Sooooo, it seems I have been somewhat misled over the purpose of this whole 'blogging' thing. Having never had one before, I wasn't sure of the apparent rules and regulations involved, and I was certainly not aware that I would be judged on 'professionalism' on something which I write whilst sitting in my pyjamas with a cup of tea and a DVD flickering in the background. Call me a rank amateur, but when it's 1:30 am, I can't sleep and I've had a long, exhausting day of lugging cameras around, the last thing I'm thinking about is being professional. Especially when I've no make-up on.
I knew we were to use our blogs to reflect on all things filmy, on what we'd covered in class of a particular week, on what we felt we'd learned and the experiences we'd had whilst out, y'know, putting what we'd been taught into practice. I thought when we were given our first 'real' filming assignment, the 'performance class' annual 'graduation' festival, we'd get the chance to interact with the performers beforehand, or at the very least I thought they'd know we were coming. There seemed to have been a lack of communication somewhere between our class and theirs, and the whole experience left me feeling a little cold. Good practice? Yes. An enjoyable experience? Aw, hell no.
ANYWAY, after the whole ordeal was over, I came home, had a wee think about what I'd witnessed, gathered my thoughts about what I really felt about it and wrote all this down in blog-form, as did everyone else in the class, as we do whenever we have a shoot or some other collective class experience. I may not have been entirely eloquent about it, but hey, I was honest at least. Unfortunately, I didn't realise the sensitive disposition of those who'd perhaps stumble upon it. I also didn't realise that I couldn't express my true feelings about being treated like the 'workie scum', an annoyance, a 5-foot-8 obstacle on the road to artistic nirvana, with a speedbump in the form of a 570 camera.
I took a week's holiday from my job to work on the shoot, and I'm not just blowing smoke when I say I think everyone in our class worked really hard despite a total lack of preparation, and no sense of where we had to be and when. We kept ourselves out of the way as much as possible, and didn't say a word when we were shuffled about by performers who really didn't want us to be there. The fact that we were doing it as a class assignment was irrelevant, especially on the Saturday afternoon symposium, which I'd opted to do on a voluntary basis.
Still, I'm digressing here. I've said my piece about the performances and the ins and outs of our interactions with the performers. What really sticks though, and brings me back to my original point, is that my reflection on the event was criticised too. I'm sorry, but if someone is disrespectful towards me, I'm not going to go out of my way to write them up a glowing review. I was originally told that mine and Amelie's blogs about the shoot were good examples of the general consensus of the experience, and for this to be retracted because someone complained about my using the word 'arseholes' is an absolute joke. It makes a mockery of the point of writing this in the first place.
When you're a performer, or artist, in any sense of the word, you're opening yourself up to criticism as well as praise. Not everyone is going to fawn over your work, especially when to all but the most learned Performance Practitioners it's pretty much incomprehensible. If you can't take criticism, especially if you're of a less-than-agreeable disposition, you're in the wrong profession. I'm not going to pander to someone because they've had a hissy fit over my own personal opinion. Not everyone is going to like what you do, whether it be film, music, television, art, theatre, anything. Different opinions are part of what make us human (well, that and opposable thumbs).
What else really irritates me is that we post our opinions, someone else voices theirs, and then all of a sudden our original opinion is wrong. I'm not going to change what I think, never mind retract it. Yes, I understand that many of the performances are autobiographical; it's just that with this type of performance art the meaning is totally unclear. I can't say in my life I've ever felt the need to express my life story by whipping all of my clothes off and rubbing glitter on myself. That's what people do at house parties maybe, but it's not how I'd sum up my life's work.
If someone didn't like a piece I'd written, or a film or television idea I had, I'd use the criticism as a positive thing, and utilise it to make my next idea even better. I wouldn't cry because someone referred to my behaviour as being that of an 'arsehole': I'd be even less bothered if that opinion was posted on a website, which serves the primary purpose of being a vehicle to express my thoughts and experiences, and what I think about them. It's like being 15 and whining because someone doesn't like your pictures on Facebook.
At the end of the day, we're all creative people at the [establishment], whether it's in performance or being behind the scenes. There'd be no performance without an audience, so don't alienate the people who can help you on the way up, or cry because someone doesn't like you. I'm not going to retract or change my opinion, because I believe in it, the same way that the performers believe in the validity of their work. And if I'm going to be criticised on posting it online, what's next? Am I going to be reduced to writing things in my journal or on the backs of bus tickets, never to be read by anyone? Like I said before, I didn't realise my personal thoughts and feelings were judged on the strength of their professionalism. At least even when I'm sitting in the middle of the night with slipper socks and a chipped mug of tea, I still keep my clothes on.
And here is a comment from the original blog, which unfortunately gets deleted as soon as the post does:
ReplyDelete"It seems bizarre to me that performers who thrive on offending people through their art are so sensitive to criticism.
These performances are designed to offend, involving graphic nudity and self-mutilation. These are elements of a performance with one single aim: to get a reaction - preferably one of shock and disgust.
When someone raises the point that they are offended by the performance, they are patronised as somehow not being strong enough to cope with "real art". The flaw seems to lie in the one who takes offence: not being strong enough to deal with it.
However, when the tables are turned and the offence is levelled against these performers, everything suddenly changes. The flaw is no longer in the one who takes offence. It is in the one who gave the offence.
Double standards."