The Sleep

I apologize for the long absense and derth of postings. I have many spinning plates right now. I have signed on as the dramaturge for the University's final main stage production of the school year, Cabaret . Yes, that is a musical. I'm confronting my phobia of spectacle, and the project is actually part of a larger Event. I'm exploring ways to make dramaturgy more active in our department and in the community with which we mingle now and again. I'm sure many of you have only a fuzzy idea of what a dramaturge is or does, and you are certainly not alone. I'll elaborate further on this role and in what it consists as we get closer to opening night, which is, ironically, Hitler's Birthday - April 20.

Looking at the larger picture, I am close to pinning down exactly what it is that I wish to explore with my studies. I was watching an interview with Bob Dylan from the Scorcese documentary that came out a few months ago when the idea struck me. Reporters were grilling Dylan about his latest success, Highway 61 Revisited. The folk/rock icon looked to be around twenty-three years old, he was wearing a superbly fashioned tweed jacket, and he was chain smoking. You could tell Dylan was uncomfortable but that he was also trying to take all the questions seriously and tell the public whatever it was they wanted to hear. This was a hard task, however, because the questions smacked of that 60s era generation gap. The questions made cear the meanings of "square," "dud" and "old-timer." Mr. Dylan, what are the deeper meanings of your songs? Bob, tell the public what you're really trying to say. Why do you think this generation has put its faith in you? The questions may as well have been Zen koans, and while Dylan could meditate on them for a short while, he certainly wasn't capable of giving a sharp answer to any of them.

The thing that made me so interested in this awkward clash between media and artist was precisely the awkwardness of the situation. The entire event was absurd. Mr. Dylan, how many musicians are there like you in the world? Ummm...about 163. About 163, or exactly 163? ...It's either 163...or 172. I'm not sure which. 163, then, that's very interesting.

Ridiculous. But what exactly made it so absurd? What were the mechanics of that conversation gap. Was Dylan actually communcating with the reporters? Was anything really being said at all? I want to find words to describe this absurdity. I want to research and explore this ridiculousness. I am hung up not on that specific instance with Dylan and the reporters but rather the concept of that type of absurdity and nonsense. I find it fascinating. It interests me because I see something in that topic that relates to the theatre, specifically to the audience/performer relationship. I'll be occupied with this thought for a while, so I'll keep you all posted.

I won't dally so much between entries.