Jerome Bel accomplished quite an astounding feat in creating his “Disabled Theater” piece with Theater Hora. He was able to take the idea of “disability”–one that we are sometimes afraid of or, more often, simply unwilling or unable to fully understand–and force us to give our undivided attention to it. There were no moments more singularly powerful and raw as those in the very beginning of the piece when the ten actors were asked to come out one by one and present themselves to the audience. No speaking, no sound–just their very presence, emanating out from the center of the flat stage and reaching every corner of the rather small, yet captivated, audience. The silence alone could speak volumes. This opening act was significant for the fact that it simultaneously underscored and juxtaposed itself with the idea that those with disabilities are passive, silent members of their often cold-hearted society. We are struck by the fact that all we have to observe on stage for a minute is an actor with a disability–a sight that we very often do not have the chance or the patience to see–standing there and doing absolutely nothing but stare back at us. There is irony and power in the fact that the rest of the performance proceeds to contrast directly with the silence we experienced in these initial moments.
What Jerome Bel does in “Disabled Theater” is give these disabled persons a voice, one that they are rarely given the true opportunity to share. Not simply a speaking voice, which they are given an abundance of opportunities to explore, but also a creative one. Bel gives these actors freedom and with this freedom comes emotional liberation. He tells them they are free to make up their own dance, complete with their own choreography and music choice. And with this simple request, a performance of the purest, most unadulterated joy I have ever witnessed across a stage was born. I have never smiled as much both during and after a performance as I did for Bel’s truly brilliant piece of work.
The actors, who have disabilities ranging from more mild forms of learning weakness to more severe cases of Down’s Syndrome, were encouraged to put their all into this performance and to speak their truth, but what really added a level to the entire performance was the fact that Bel simply encouraged them to be themselves. With “Disabled Theater”, Bel taps into the creative passion and genius that lies within each individual, no matter what their external or internal disability. Anyone can be an artist, and this is never more apparent than it is in this performance. I was astounded by the creativity and true passion these actors possessed regarding their artistic expression. In particular, I was shocked and delighted by how accurately and entertainingly one of the younger actresses was able to capture the essence of Michael Jackson in her dance to his song “They Don’t Care About Us.” The symbolism of this song choice was not at all lost on the audience either. Many of the dances performed similarly surprised me with their vitality and fiery inner spirit. Every movement had been chosen for a reason by these actors and I was breathlessly anticipating what new excitement each dance would bring because each was memorable in its uniqueness.
Everything about “Disabled Theater” is intimate and extremely personal. There is little distance between the stage and the audience, with some audience members even sitting on the edge of the floor of the stage itself. There is a strikingly strong sense of closeness between the audience and the actors on stage, which seems to have been a deliberate choice on Jerome Bel’s part when selecting New York Live Arts as a venue. This closeness was not merely a physical, material closeness but also one of propinquity, a proximal and psychological nearness that is a major factor in establishing relationships between people. I felt a kinship to these actors as they danced and performed and laughed alongside their company members and friends. There was something so whole-heartedly normal about the entire experience that I couldn’t help but feel happy at seeing these people just be themselves and relate to their love for the things they do. Although there were more somber, realistic moments scattered throughout the performance regarding the truths of mental disability, I really would say that the feeling of the night was happiness and joy.
For this reason, I don’t believe Jerome Bel has any obligation to these actors after the performance is over. Theater Hora is already a well-established and respected theater company in Sweden and I never got the impression that it was because of Jerome Bel that they were getting any sort of recognition outside their home country. “Disabled Theater” was a partnership between this choreographer and theater company, not at all Jerome Bel doing a favor for or exploiting the actors in the company for the sake of his own agenda. It seems to me that all Bel and the actors hoped to do by putting on this performance was to make the audience think, even if only for the 90 minutes of the piece, that disabled persons are no more or less different than any of us without a disability. There is such strength and resiliency in the characters of those living with a disability. There is such power and respectability in the fact that they try to live their lives without letting the disability become a hindrance. There is so much to admire about these individuals who have likely experienced more pain, suffering, and hardship than we ever will in all our years, and yet who can still manage to end the night with a smile dancing across their face and laughter escaping from between their lips. Jerome Bel is not taking advantage of these actors at all; rather he is broadening their horizons and asking them to open themselves up to an audience that simply wants to understand.
–Norine Chan (Blog A)
