The Living Theatre in “Paradise Now”
The Living Theatre’s History
Founded in 1947 as an imaginative alternative to the commercial theater by Judith Malina, the German-born student of Erwin Piscator, and Julian Beck, an abstract expressionist painter of the New York School, The Living Theatre has staged nearly a hundred productions performed in eight languages in 28 countries on five continents – a unique body of work that has influenced theater the world over.
During the 1950′s and early 1960′s in New York, The Living Theatre pioneered the unconventional staging of poetic drama – the plays of American writers like Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, Paul Goodman, Kenneth Rexroth and John Ashbery, as well as European writers rarely produced in America, including Cocteau, Lorca, Brecht and Pirandello. Best remembered among these productions, which marked the start of the Off-Broadway movement, were Doctor Faustus Lights the Lights, Tonight We Improvise, Many Loves, The Connection and The Brig.
The difficulty of operating a unique, experimental enterprise within a cultural establishment ill-equipped to accept it led to the closing by the authorities of all The Living Theatre’s New York venues: the Cherry Lane Theater (closed by the Fire Department in 1953), The Living Theatre Studio on Broadway at 100th Street (closed by the Buildings Department in 1956), The Living Theatre on 14th Street (closed by the I.R.S. in 1963) and The Living Theatre on Third Street (closed by the Buildings Department in 1993).
In the mid-1960′s, the company began a new life as a nomadic touring ensemble. In Europe, they evolved into a collective, living and working together toward the creation of a new form of nonfictional acting based on the actor’s political and physical commitment to using the theater as a medium for furthering social change. The landmark achievements of this period include Mysteries and Smaller Pieces, Antigone, Frankenstein and Paradise Now. . . . (for more info: http://www.livingtheatre.org/about/history)
On “Paradise Now”
“In 1968 The Living Theatre, an anarcho-communalist troupe led by Julian Beck and Judith Malina, returned to America from years of self-imposed exile in Europe with what would become their best-known production: “Paradise Now,” a play that sought to completely dissolve the boundaries of human interactions through a practice of live collective creation, forging a revolutionary harmony between actors and audience. “The purpose of the play is to lead to a state of being in which non-violent revolutionary action is possible,” wrote Julian, and he meant it. What happened each night onstage—and offstage, and then out into the streets—was a series of purposefully provocative and interventionist actions, from marijuana smoking and full-body group nudity to screamed declamations, [and] intense arguments . . . . often involving audience members.”—Arthur Magazine
From the video we watched in class, I agree with Arthur Magazine that the actions, which occurred offstage, were purposefully provocative and interventionist. The display of public indecency in the streets certainly fails to advocate for sides in controversial issues such as the legalization of marijuana smoking and reaching ceasefire in a war. When the government sees publicly indecent citizens protesting, they would treat and view them as uncivilized individuals whose voices do not deserve to be heard. It is possible that the provocations in the 1960’s (as seen in the video) led to police brutality in several occasions, such as The Kent State University Massacre of May 4th, 1970. It is true that the government’s support for the war was questioned many times, especially after Americans learned of the gruesome news about the My Lai Massacre. However, those protesters should have expressed their views in a more convincing and solemn manner, so that their dignity and position on the matters would not be overlooked.
But if you are an artist, how do you express your dissatisfaction with the world?
Here’s an excerpt from The New York Times’ obituary for The Living Theatre’s founder, Julian Beck:
”I think if we will look at this world as it really is,” Mr. Beck wrote in 1965, ”we will find that even what is most ugly has within it the sparks of life. And I think we go to the theater to glimpse those sparks. That’s why we get so excited before we go to the theater. It’s because we’re looking for light in a very dark world.”
Political activism characterized Mr. Beck’s life outside the theater as well as in it. By Miss Malina’s count, the couple were jailed 12 times on three continents for various acts of civil disobedience. They spent 30 days in jail in New York in 1957 for refusing to take part in a civil defense drill. They were indicted for – and later acquitted of -indecent exposure for a 1969 performance in New Haven of ”Paradise Now” by the Living Theater. (http://www.nytimes.com/1985/09/17/theater/julian-beck-60-is-dead-founded-living-theater.html)
There’s something incredibly postmodern about the entire concept of The Living Theater—this appropriation of things considered “not art” into an art form. It is not quite one solid, individual thing, but rather a gathering-together of these separate cultural acts of rebellion: nudity, smoking, chanting, statements of opposition to the culture and government of the day. And I think that this collection, this pastiche of separate acts of protest and liberation, makes the Living Theater its own form of revolutionary art. At the same time, though, I think it is a byproduct of the self-indulgence, as you call it, of the sixties, a byproduct of the adjustment to and striving for greater freedoms, of the way in which people were, in the sixties, seeking to right civil wrongs. I don’t think it could have come to exist in any time except its own: the shock value would have been too great or too little, the culture would not have understood it as a movement.
I think all cultural movements work that way, though: because they are fluid responses to events happening at the time at which they occur, they can’t just be taken out of time and reused somewhere else. They don’t make sense out of their own time, and they lose their impact if they’re repeated. To me, for example, the act of standing up on our chairs in the middle of class was not a symbol of revolution. It’s true that this was in part because we were told to do it, and I’m not sure an act of revolution can be as structured as a teacher’s command, as you said in class. But it’s also true because we were just repeating an action from the Dead Poet’s Society. For the boys in the movie, standing on their desks was a revolution, because it was their way to herald their teacher, who earlier in the movie has them stand on his desk in order to view the world from a new perspective. When he’s fired, their standing on their desks is a sign that they are willing to fight against the rigidity of their school for the freedom he taught them. An act of revolution is a reference to the structure it emerges from and the steps it has taken in emerging, so it has to stand in its own island of time, or must, anyway, if it wants to hold the full brunt of its power.
Dear Esther: Sublimely argued. But now that I’ve asked you to stand on your chair, isn’t there a chance someday that you might just climb on a chair yourself and start screaming out? (Bravo on your “Dad Poets Society” connection.) By the way, John F. Kennedy once noted, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.” Weren’t the members of the Living Theatre peaceful revolutionaries?
Though this may have seemed revolutionary at the time, I felt this to be a form of sixties’ self-indulgence. They were indeed pushing boundaries and were extremely provocative; however, when should they stop. Since this was a theater, a member of the audience would expect something artistic. I did not feel that this was artistic. When they were completely naked, it seemed more of an act that a protester would do in a rally. It was not tastefully done.
YeJoon mentioned in class that we might have felt different if we were living in their era. I do not think I would have felt differently. The chants and tribal acts were no doubt different, but where does the art come in? Everyone views art differently and has their own standards, but to me, this is not art. If they truly wanted to protest, why did they hide it in the theater? Why not take it to the streets? They took it to South America and were put in jail, probably because it defied the natives’ culture. It definitely defied mine. This makes me wonder, is it alright to protest your personal culture in another country? Wouldn’t that disrespect the natives?
I personally did not think this was revolutionary art. Some people may say differently. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion
Well, Linette, that you felt uncomfortable watching their performance might just be the point. Julian Beck wanted to take you out of your comfort zone. To give you the unexpected. Actually, the group was arrested in Brazil because the government felt threatened by the politics of the group’s art, which incorporated the natives and their economic/political problems.
You might check out the article from which this is an excerpt: “During their stay in various villages and cities in Brazil, the Living Theatre observed the corruption in politics and society, and sought to advocate for change, freedom and justice. Through a pacifist approach, the Living Theatre demonstrated metaphoric performances that challenged subordination. The six themes from the play each explored issues regarding a martyr-victim relationship, as well as complexities within sadomasochism and how such theories relate to Brazilian power structures. Performed in “favelas”, Brazilian shantytowns, the Living Theatre penetrated relevant matters in society, and sought to challenge the citizens’ submission to class systems, to confront the corrupt government, and to encourage individual expression.” (http://graceesmith.wordpress.com/2011/04/10/a-nonviolent-revolution-the-living-theatre-in-brazil/)
I am conflicted. It is my own fault that I categorize what art is or is not. When I observe bizarre contemporary art, I see the “bizarre” and not the “art.” And when we watched the video of The Living Theatre performing, I felt like I was not watching “theater.” I try to see the art in the abstract, but it is difficult. Perhaps I was conditioned by mainstream influences into categorizing what good art is. Or maybe I was raised into it- my mother is a professor of music and my family and I have been to many opera, ballet, dance, Broadway, orchestra, concert and dramatic performances, all of which were beautifully presented by artists who have practiced their entire lives for the well-deserved spotlight. And what all of the performances had in common was a sense of order. There was a plot, a program, a timeline, a careful growth, a rising action, climax, and resolution, beautifully showcasing a variety of emotional expressions that parallel the human experience. Even if there was chaos on the stage, it was controlled. It was well rehearsed and delivered by incredibly talented performers. This is my experience with art, but I understand that we live in a place and time where it is ok to break free from normalcy and expectation for the sake of expressing dissatisfaction with the world. The artistic sphere is no longer “a cultural establishment ill-equipped to accept” unique and experimental forms of expression. Still, I am conflicted. I want to be more accepting but it is difficult. Experiences like the Chelsea art galleries and The Living Theatre are slowly widening the tunnel vision I have. By slowly, I mean very slowly. It is a work in progress, progress being the key word.
Dear Alina, When I was in high school, dungarees were not allowed to be worn, and females couldn’t wear pants. Also, the guys’ haircut lengths were dictated. We also had to stand when we answered questions. Imagine the same rules applied to theater and the other arts. What you are championing or what you feel comfortable with is the tried and true. But, you must remember, much of the tried and true that you adore was once considered revolutionary in the time it was created. The great artists often break rules. Remember Stravinsky caused riots. The original “Faun” was labeled shocking. The same goes for the Impressionists and Any Warhol. Ditto for the cinema. What is considered subversive today is staid tomorrow.
Please also note, that the “Paradise Now” we watched was a semi-documentary of the event. Edited clips of where the cameraman’s lens was pointing. I’m not sure of the complete reliability of the film, although I do accept that it captured the event’s essence.