Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Humanites post #4

Stage Door: Theatrical Social Realism



"Stage Door" is a play about a group of aspiring actresses living in a boarding house in New York City. It is set during Great Depression. It has been adapted into a movie of the same name.

Historically, the Great Depression hit the world of Broadway just as hard as everywhere else. The number of running shows decreased dramatically, and actors (who, as a whole, are largely unemployed even during periods of economic stability) were struggling to survive. During this time, many stage performers were recruited by Hollywood, and left for California on multi-year contracts with studios. The studio system was rapidly approaching its peak (Hollywood’s “Golden Age” was primarily in the 30s and 40s) and as a result, many theatre people abandoned Broadway in favor of the more stable, albeit less “artistic” Hollywood. The study guide written by the production's Dramaturg provides some excellent additional insight into the role of women in the 30's and the studio system. It's online at http://www.byuarts.com/downloads/Stage_Door_Study_Guide.pdf


I found significant evidences of the influence of the Social Realist movement in this play. It was written in the 30s, in the middle of the movement. In particular, I noticed three things: the glorification of the dedicated, perseverant working class; the implied moral lesson in Keith Burgess’ views, and the unabashed portrayal of the ugly side of things.


All of the girls who live in the boarding house are aspiring actresses. Some of them have more talent than others, and some are more successful in their searches than others. Despite this, they all got along amazingly well. They supported each other in their triumphs and disappointments, sometimes even paying rent for those who had been out of work for so long that they couldn’t. This respectful, glorifying portrayal of the lower classes is very much in line with the communist/socialist undertones in Social Realism.



“Stage Door” may be about acting, but it certainly isn't about glamorous starlets and fabulous parties. The only girl who succeeds financially in the play is painted as a villain because she abandons the art of the stage for the lure of Hollywood. Even when she comes back to New York to visit, she isn't connected with her friends at the boarding house anymore, because her life has been consumed by her fame as a Hollywood pretty girl. Another girl commits suicide later in the play, after she is fired from her part in a show. Even the girls who manage to land roles are frequently not employed for long, because whatever show they were cast in closes.


Keith Burgess’ character is the most obvious Social Realism element in the play. In the beginning of the play, it quickly becomes apparent that he has socialist/communist political leanings: every play he writes and everything he says is about the masses, the people, and the message. He hates Hollywood and its pretty, sappy portrayal of life, and he is determined to write a play about the truth and get it produced. However, he is corrupted by the lure of Hollywood's corrupt but lucrative capitalism, and abandons his ideals for a prosperous career writing junk for Hollywood hits. His symbolic decision to leave Broadway and move to California is portrayed as entirely negative: he is undoubtedly a fallen character.


I thoroughly enjoyed this production. It offered a wonderful insight into the clashing worlds of Hollywood and Broadway in the 1930s and the political tension that was inescapably part of that clash.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Hum 262 #3


"Evening Council"

Understanding

By the 1870s, relations between Native Americans and white immigrants began to deteriorate rapidly. Massacres like Sand Creek, Wounded Knee, and the Trail of Tears exemplified the prevailing attitude held by the white population that the indigenous peoples were subhuman, and their existence interfered with the Manifest Destiny of the United States. However, there were a few individuals who recognized the beauty of these civilizations and strove to understand them: one of these people was a painter named Joseph Henry Sharp. His respectful, documentary-style paintings of Native Americans directly challenged the common perception of the Native American as savage and sub-human. “Evening Council,” an undated painting of an anonymous group of Indians, is no exception to this style. However, to someone unfamiliar with Sharp’s attitude toward the indigenous peoples of America, the painting could be interpreted as an ignorantly curious snapshot into the lives of the “savages.”

As an aspiring artist, Sharp travelled to Europe where he spent two years studying realist techniques. He returned to America, and in 1883, he travelled out west for the first time, and discovered his passion for the native peoples of America. However, he still felt that his training was incomplete, so he returned to Europe a few years later and spent two additional years studying art in Paris. Afterwards, he spent most of the remainder of his life living with and painting the plains Indians and Taos tribes in New Mexico. Throughout his career, he strove to “respect…Indian customs…and reflect…reverence for Indian manners and ways.” (Shaefer and Steele 15) Unlike many other artists who had tried to capture the Native American, Sharp took the time to get to know his subjects, and to understand their traditions and ways of life. (Fenn 111) In stark contrast with the prevailing attitude towards Native Americans during Sharp’s lifetime, Sharp sided with the Indians. He “wondered what right the government of anyone else had to interfere with Indian traditions.” (Fenn 161) Unfortunately, in a society that was largely ignorant of those “manners” and “ways,” his paintings, such as “Evening Council,” could have been misinterpreted.

Stylistically, the painting is most identifiably connected with the realist tradition in which Sharp was trained. The image is largely representational: the figures and objects are proportional, the colors are life-like, and the setting is easily recognizable. The image does not attempt to capture life exactly how it appears, like a photograph, but it is far from abstract. The brushstrokes are soft, but visible: this contributes to the reverent feeling of the image, especially in the graceful flow of the pine needles and the thoughtful curls and arcs of the smoke from the fire. The subjects’ faces are indistinct – again, revealing Sharp’s respectful sensitivity towards the customs of the people he painted.

To emotionally sensitive viewers, Sharp’s exceptional respect for Native American culture is beautifully evident in “Evening Council.” It is a simple scene, depicting eight Native Americans gathered around a fire under the light of a bright moon. Sharp’s respect is clearly manifest by the polite distance he keeps from their council – as a viewer, it is obvious that while you may be curious to know exactly what is happening, it is not your place to know. The people depicted are very real – not caricatured. They are comfortable with each other and with their surroundings, and they are participating in intelligent, meaningful conversation. This portrayal is precisely the opposite of the general cultural perception of the natives as savage, subhuman creatures in need of civilizing.

Unfortunately, to those people who viewed the Indians as savages, this painting could have been misinterpreted, and the message of respect and acceptance completely lost. Those very attributes that serve to emphasize Sharp’s respect – such as the distance from the subjects, the graceful brushwork, the indistinct faces, and the unclear purpose of the council – could be construed as expressions of the general misunderstanding of the cultures. The distance from the subjects could just as easily be out of fear as respect. The graceful, shadowy brushwork creates an unfamiliar, almost magical aura around the Indians – and what is unfamiliar is scary and must be changed so that it is understood. This scary unfamiliarity is further emphasized with the lack of distinction in the faces of the subjects. By obscuring their facial features, Sharp eliminated a primary avenue of human communication and made it very difficult for viewers unfamiliar with the culture to guess at the emotions of the subjects, or to even know if they had emotions to be guessed at. Essentially, by avoiding clarity in his subjects’ faces, Sharp failed to break down a barrier between the natives and the ignorant newcomers. Similarly, by offering no clues in the painting or its title as to the subject or nature of the “council,” Sharp shrouds these already misunderstood people in even deeper secrecy.

Both of these interpretations played a part in my understanding of the painting. I passed through three recognizable fazes: my initial response in the museum, my response to the information I learned about it and my analysis of it, and then my synthesized, thought-out reaction. In the context of the museum, I saw the painting as a visually attractive representation of the romanticized American wilderness. Many of the other paintings in the exhibit featured glorified landscapes and picturesque oneness with the environment. Because of this environment of idealization, I became lazy in my observation of the paintings: in other words, I reacted similarly to how many people in Sharp’s day would have. I saw a strange culture doing something I didn’t understand, so I fell back onto my preconceived notions of the Native American cultures and entirely missed the message of acceptance and respect. As I learned more about Sharp’s life and his goals in painting these people, I quickly distanced myself from everyone who would have misinterpreted his intentions, and imagined myself and the painting as honest, real, and absolutely willing to go against common cultural perceptions. Unfortunately, this understanding is just as incorrect as my initial reaction; it is only with a synthesis of these two opposing views that I can truly represent my understanding of this work of art. I cannot fully separate myself from my initial, aesthetic reaction to the work: it is beautiful, and it is strange to me. However, I realize that there is more for me to understand, and I try to understand that.

While Sharp may not have portrayed the Native Americans in “Evening Council” in such a way that all the misconceptions of his time period were addressed and corrected, he succeeded in teaching me - and perhaps others - something more about their culture. While I don’t understand everything, I understand the beauty, and his passion inspired me to understand more.


Joseph Henry Sharp

Note: To learn more about Sharp and his work, I recommend "The Beat of the Drum and the Whoop of the Dance:A Study of the Life and Work of Joseph Henry Sharp" by Forest Fenn.