"It's Not About US" - Ferguson shooting reaction

A couple of years ago I had the privilege of participating in a performance piece that was in response to the shooting of Michael Brown, an African American teenager in Ferguson, MO. The Ferguson shooting occurred in August 2014 and sparked a nation-wide response to the frequency of police-shootings involving unarmed African-American males as the victims. When I saw the audition notice it simply said “Ferguson Thanksgiving.” I had no idea what the piece would even be, but was intrigued. I quickly learned that this was to be a performance art piece combined with a loosely scripted scene. And that there would be pie. This piece was the brainchild of Phoebe Bachman, herself a Caucasian woman who had written the scripted scene based on a conversation that occurred among her family members at a dinner table over Thanksgiving 2014. Her extended family was present and the conversation became very polarized as soon as the “first character” gave his first line, “So Ferguson, huh?”

The set-up for the performances was this: The actual venue was an art gallery and when the doors opened, the patrons entered to view the art that had been curated to display works which highlighted themes consistent with the Black Lives Matter movement and police brutality issues. While they were perusing, a Caucasian actress and myself began walking through the space serving slices of pie to the patrons. We didn’t speak, we just offered. They happily accepted.  We made several rounds with pie, then entered and began doing a devised movement piece throughout the space and in the midst of the crowd. Our movements were motivated by trust, mistrust, power, push, pull, etc.

All the while there was a table at the far end of the gallery that had been donned with place settings. There was a place setting for each of the 5 actors, plus an extra one for a randomly invited audience member. At the conclusion of the movement piece, the six of us sat at the table and began the scripted scene. The characters ranged from those on the side of the court ruling not to indict the police officer that shot Brown, to those enraged by it, to passive, to peacemaking, to those who simply laid out the facts. The scene concluded pretty open-ended and without a real “conclusion.”

The protest/demonstrations that occurred for weeks after the shooting of Michael Brown were so strong that the National Guard was called in to offer support to local law enforcement. There was fire, tear gas, looting, marching, standing, rubber bullets, etc. Bachman felt that the polarized energies in Ferguson had been channeled into her parent’s dining room at their Thanksgiving dinner. She wanted to bring that to the community and open up a conversation about police brutality and race relations.

With each performance, as with most theatre, the audience response was vastly different. The crowd gathered around the table, some with pie in hand, not quite sure what they were watching. The person at the table was likewise usually pin-drop silent, yet deeply contemplative. There were two nights that the invited audience member interjected into the scene, unable to kept quite when bigoted remarks were made.

This artistic response to a tragic event, in my opinion, was a safer route. She could have chosen to go as far as reenacting the event, which would have undoubtedly caused much upset and been seen as going “too far” by some. The closest she got was directing one of the actors to point at another actor with their hand in a gun configuration. Regardless of the safety factor, it definitely stirred emotions and sparked conversations as evidenced by several post show talkbacks. If she had decided to make the decision to “go over the line” in anyway, the question really is “what is more over the line than the actual event?’”

MANIFESTO

We cannot be silent. Words are the tool to spark awareness. When will the masses awaken from the monotony of “the norm?” When will they hear what’s sole purpose is to break then from their jaded reality? We can wait no longer. They will hear their own words. They will ingest them. They will struggle with them. They will wrestle with them. They will answer for them. They will not go unnoticed nor unanswered. Magnified, words spoken to destroy will serve to correct.

That sounds a lot like....

After deliberating over this week’s topic and readings, I was reminded of the words of one of my mentors: “If you want to be great, study the greats. Watch them. If you want to act like ‘so-and-so’, watch and study ‘so-and-so.’ If you want to write like them, read their writings. If you want to make music like them, listen to their music.” His approach seems very simplistic, but it’s also fundamental. As babies our senses are constantly stimulated by what we see, hear, and feel. The information we take in from infancy about how to communicate quickly begins to be imitated – and we are rewarded for it. The more accurately we imitate, the more positive reinforcement we receive. I find it interesting that there is some murky, gray-colored phase of life where imitation ceases being “good” at the risk of being “fake” or “shallow.” What once garnered praise, suddenly receives ridicule.

It’s also interesting that while some reject mimicry, others are of the school of thought that, well beyond our formative years, imitation can actually be a positive platform for creativity. Aristotle suggests this in his Poetics. This led me to “mimic poems.” Mimic poems (or imitation poems as they are sometimes called) are poems that are written in the style of a particular poet. While not an imitation in the word-for-word sense, the original poet’s work is intently studied for meter, tone, and rhyme scheme. What results is poetry that is reminiscent of the original without being a true copy in the literary sense. Here are some examples:

Perhaps this “copying” of style is a happy medium between full-out plagiarism and originality. But one could also argue that inspiration must stem from somewhere so it is completely original. The original work sparked emotions and peaked consciousness in the artist – something that Auslander would agree distinguishes robotic performance (input=output) from true creative performance. Regardless of how clear it may seem that the artist is influenced by another work, those who practice mimic poetry typically site the work that prompted them.

Are these imitation poems better than the original? I would venture to say they are different and can be just as wonderful in their own right. If the artist is creating content from a true place, should it matter that their form is unoriginal? And what of the poetry that the artist will create in the future on account of having “practiced” the form of “greats?”

This brings me to the other thought I had when contemplating this week’s prompt, which I’ll say just a few words about. Painting With a Twist is a phenomenon that has taken this country by storm. All of a sudden anyone can be a painter! BUT, everyone in attendance is guided – step-by-step – to paint a replica of the same pre-determined painting. This is an example where the copy is often not superior to the original to the outside eye. Most people who sign-up are not professional artists. But if there is sentimental value tied to a "sub-par" painting, all of a sudden it is priceless. Originality just might be in the eye of the beholder.

Sources:

http://www.gbt.org/poetryimitationexamples.htm

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/mimesis-imitation

https://penandthepad.com/directions-writing-mimic-poem-3668.html

https://www.nwp.org/cs/public/print/resource/448