Friedrich Nietzsche recognized a disturbing trend of the modern world in The Birth of Tragedy. Following in the footsteps of philosophers such as Socrates and Plato, we have placed the utmost importance on rationality and the sciences, while abandoning emotion and the arts. According to Nietzsche, the balance has shifted greatly towards the Apolline rather than the Dionysian.
Would Nietzsche consider “I Don’t Believe in Outer Space” to be an oasis in the cold desert of rationality? I cannot help but believe that the answer is a resounding no. This cannot be the Dionysian art that Nietzsche revered so greatly. The performance included unorthodox dance movements and extremely limited plot development; it is in direct opposition to the majority of ballets. The talent of the performers is undeniable. One performer was impressively able to vary both her movements as well as her voice in accordance with the two parts that she played. However, this is not the nature of chaos that Nietzsche envisioned in art’s most perfect state.
Dionysian art is completely immersive. There may be chaos, but the audience is united in chaos. The performance only left me feeling alienated and annoyed. William Forsythe’s esoteric references only served to exacerbate these feelings. In addition, the most important form of Dionysian art, music, was relegated to a secondary role. Instead, dialogue and dance were put in the forefront. Dionysian art is supposed to be intoxicating. The only intoxication involved in this performance must have taken place while Forsythe produced it.
I despise being a spectator. Although I was involved in athletics throughout most of my youth and teenage years, watching sports on television or even from the bleachers has always been a mind-numbing bore. For this reason museum and art exhibits have always been extremely difficult for me to appreciate.
Fluxus art is clearly different though. Whether it’s the anti-commercialism theme of many pieces, the way in which it combines different art media, or even it’s anti-art message, Fluxus is an alien movement in comparison to most art. However, the aspect of Fluxus that interested me the most was the attempt by artists to produce interactive works of art.
Such pieces were on display at the “Fluxus and The Essential Questions of Life” exhibit in The Grey Art Gallery. For example Yoko Ono’s “Painting to Be Stepped On” instructed the observer to leave a canvas or painting on the floor so that it could be stepped on. Such pieces kept in spirit with the anti-art message of Fluxus while giving a more direct involvement to the observer. Other “event” pieces held instructions for the observer to complete as well. However, I was utterly disgusted when our peer was told not to touch a book that was part of an art piece. It was then that I noticed all of the Fluxboxes held in captivity underneath clear glass cases. Surely the creators of these boxes would not be pleased. The exhibit had completely twisted the message of Fluxus. Rather than working in the lab, we were reading the textbook.
In Brother I’m Dying, Edwidge Danticat delivers a memoir with poignant and candid writing. It was an excellent choice for the required freshman reading for Brooklyn College students. Although, most of our struggles cannot nearly compare to the author’s, themes such as immigration and family provided us with relatable material. In addition, I believe her message for action in the face of injustices was necessary for us to hear. As the future of America and college students, it was important for an older generation to remind us that there are certain things more important than the pursuit of our career.
During the most memorable part of Danticat’s visit to Brooklyn College she motherly echoed her sentiments through a series of Haitian proverbs. When I heard “proverbs” I expected cliché ideas. However, their origin in a culture I was unacquainted with made them far more interesting. “Those who care cannot sleep,” she told us. There are still far too many troubles in the world for those who want change to take rest. Another proverb, which obviously centered on her passion for writing, was “Words have wings, words have feet.” Although, I plan for my future to revolve around the sciences, specifically medicine, these words still resonated with me. Literature has always been an escape from the mundane for me. Furthermore, as imperfect as democracy in America may be, this proverb reminded me how lucky I am to live in a country which gives its citizens freedom of speech. To be as voiceless as Danticat’s uncle was in Haiti is something that I could not bear.
