Following 1986’s The Yellow House (see my report on Rick On Theater on 9 February), avant-garde director Leonard Shapiro (1946-97) put together a contemporary version of Vladimir Mayakovsky’s 1918/1921 Mystery-Bouffe, considered the first Soviet play, as a project of The Shaliko Company’s residency with the Department of Dance & Theatre of Manhattanville College in Purchase, New York. (At its inception in 1972, Shaliko planned to produce in January or February 1973 a street-theater version of Mayakovsky’s original play, which Shapiro noted “is not so much about the overthrow of the government and the vindication of the oppressed—which is clearly involved—but deals directly with the more radical question: what do you do if you win.”) Billed as “A Circus Opera,” Mystery History Bouffe Goof was intended to be performed in a tent with high-wire and trapeze artists, stilt-walkers, and a circus band, translating Mayakovsky (1883-1930) “from the past into the future.” In the “Rough Scenario” of the prospective project Shapiro prepared in January 1987 for the grounds of the late World Trade Center, the “circus framework” is clearly diagramed.
With allusions to Vsevolod Meyerhold (1874-1940), who
directed the 1918 production; Konstantine Treplyev (from Anton Chekhov’s The Sea Gull); and his own dream of a company
that “can speak in many languages at once . . . so that this piece is meant to
be in English and Spanish and German and in music and in movement and in circus
and in verse and in theater,” Shapiro pronounced “circus opera” “a new form
with moving sculptures, dissident art, prophetic poetry, ritual choreography,
giant puppets and wild music.” In fact,
coming three years before Strangers (ROT report posted on 3 and 6 March 2014), Shapiro’s
most sophisticated attempt to craft his new theatrical form, Mystery History
was a rough and rowdy Model T of his dream.
Unhappily,
Shaliko never completed Mystery History, though they performed pieces of
it on 25-28 March 1987 at Manhattanville College; on 1 August at the Yellow
Springs Institute in Chester Springs, Pennsylvania; and in September at
Creative Time’s Art on the Beach at Hunters Point in New York City’s borough of
Queens. After years of development—Shapiro
put it at “three or four”—and “hundreds of thousands of dollars,” a final
performance in Boston never took place as planned.
Had Shapiro’s experiment succeeded, it might have ended with something resembling the “circus opera” he envisioned, the “new form built out of elements of environmental theatre, moving sculptures, visual art pieces and giant puppets, choreography, text, jazz, rock and third world popular musical forms, and sophisticated electronic-percussive-rhythmic musical structures” of which he dreamed. To create this project, Shapiro had to collaborate with two composers, two choreographers, a “circus choreographer,” a visual artist, and two poets; the performing ensemble, aside from being multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural, and multi-generational, was skilled in acting, dance, music, and circus arts. These were all the elements of Shapiro’s dream production.
Had Shapiro’s experiment succeeded, it might have ended with something resembling the “circus opera” he envisioned, the “new form built out of elements of environmental theatre, moving sculptures, visual art pieces and giant puppets, choreography, text, jazz, rock and third world popular musical forms, and sophisticated electronic-percussive-rhythmic musical structures” of which he dreamed. To create this project, Shapiro had to collaborate with two composers, two choreographers, a “circus choreographer,” a visual artist, and two poets; the performing ensemble, aside from being multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural, and multi-generational, was skilled in acting, dance, music, and circus arts. These were all the elements of Shapiro’s dream production.
Creative Time, the organizers of Art on the Beach as part
of a program to bring art to the city’s public spaces, originally used the
Battery Park City landfill that was just north of what was then the World Trade
Center. In 1986, Creative Time moved the
project to Hunters Point in Long Island City, Queens, on land donated for the
summer program by the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey (owner, too, of
the WTC). Despite the 1987 date of
Shapiro’s scenario, it was probably originally prepared for Creative Time’s
previous venue, where Art on the Beach had been presented from 1978 until 1985;
Shapiro reconceived Mystery History for Hunters Point, but the scenario
remained unchanged from the earlier conception.
(The World Trade Center towers fell on 11 September 2001 after the
terrorist attack in which they were struck by hijacked airliners.)
Creative Time, a peripatetic non-profit arts organization
that mounts art installations and performances in unlikely sites all over New
York City, was founded in 1973. Art on
the Beach, one of its summer programs, was forced to move from Battery Park
City in 1986 because of commercial development.
(The BPC complex, a 92-acre, multi-building planned community, was
opened for occupancy beginning in 1985.)
In 1987, the program ran at Hunters Point, a “six-acre site that still
looks more like the garbage dump it once was” than the home of an art exhibit,
from 24 July to 20 September. (Hunters
Point in Queens should not be confused with Hunts Point in the Bronx.) The event was envisioned as “a
multidisciplinary collaboration between visual and performing artists,” and of
the nine sculptures on display, other performances of music, poetry, and dance
were connected to eight, each presented at dusk twice a week. Mystery History Bouffe Goof was
performed on Sunday and Wednesday evening, 13 and 16 September.
Mayakovsky’s
Mystery-Bouffe was a farcical parody
of the biblical story of the flood in
Genesis. As Shapiro described the
pageant, which Mayakovsky created in 1918 to celebrate the first anniversary of the
Bolshevik revolution (and then revised and remounted in 1921 for the fourth):
It’s a six-act epic about the Russian
Revolution in rhymed verse told through the story of Noah’s flood. The first act is at the North Pole and flood
of revolution is sweeping the world. The
second act is on the Ark; the third act is in Heaven; the fourth act is in
Hell; the fifth act is in the Land of Chaos; and the sixth act is the Workers
Paradise. . . . [Meyerhold] did it with
a cast of twenty thousand in some huge stadium.
This was in Moscow at a celebration of the Revolution. It’s a great play and it’s full of wonderful
irony. It’s got great enthusiasms and
passions.
Each scene is filled with puns, grotesqueries, Commedia lazzi, satire, topical jokes, and circus
acrobatics. Mayakovsky regarded poetry as
his weapon, and Mystery-Bouffe was
pure, obvious, and simple propaganda meant for mass consumption.
Arguably Shaliko’s largest work and clearly inspired by
Peter Schumann’s Bread and Puppet Theatre which Shapiro admired, Mystery
History was described in publicity for the Manhattanville College
performance as a piece that “will bring together giant puppets, ceiling-high
moving sculptures, circus artists, dancers, painters, and a company of . . .
actors.” An archetypal mixed-means
piece, fully employing Shapiro’s take on Sergei Eisenstein’s “montage of
attractions” (see my ROT report on 31
January 2010) as practiced by Meyerhold and exploiting as many forms of popular
entertainment as possible, Shaliko’s Mystery History Bouffe Goof evoked
“a world of balance and diversity . . . of a symbolic journey to create a world
possible only through collaboration, each of us with the other . . . an
optimistic vision of human possibility” in contrast to Mayakovsky’s Mystery-Bouffe.
The preface to the 1921 version of Mystery-Bouffe
includes a notice that reads: “In the future, all persons performing,
presenting, reading, or publishing Mystery-Bouffe should
change the content, making it contemporary, immediate, up-to-the-minute.” Shapiro took the playwright at his word. While both plays were allegorical and
propagandistic, Meyerhold’s version used the flood to represent world
revolution at the end of which emerged the “promised land” of a “mechanised
state of Socialism”—a cold and rigid vision.
Shaliko’s version, on the other hand, “used [Mayakovsky’s] play and the
myth of the Revolution as a metaphor for the transformative power of the human
creativity” just as the Russian poet had “used the mystery play and the myth of
the Flood for his ‘heroic, epic, and satiric’ representation of the Russian
Revolution.” “Our show,” said Shapiro
and Greta Levart, the director of Manhattanville College’s dance and theater
department, “is about courage, hope, and the necessity of working together to
change the world,” reiterating several consistent Shaliko themes, as well as
Pyotr Kropotkin’s fundamental thesis.
(Prince Pyotr Kropotkin, 1842-1921, was a 19th-century
Russian aristocrat who found court life repugnant and eventually espoused an
anarchist philosophy. His beliefs were
steadfastly non-violent and he held that cooperation was the way to advance the
human condition, not competitiveness. His
most famous work, Mutual Aid, which Shapiro read along with other
material concerning Kropotkin, proposed that collaboration is the natural order
of the world for both humans and animals.)
At Manhattanville College, Mystery History,
conceived as a six-act modern mystery play using Noah’s flood for its
storyline, was performed in the East Room of the Benziger Building, an
“arena-size” room wired for sound, while at Hunters Point the company performed
the piece outdoors in an overgrown, disused Long Island City landfill, part of
the grounds of the Daily News plant. Starting at dusk and playing into the evening
as the Manhattan skyline, centered on the United Nations complex across the
East River to the northwest, began to light up in the background—the only
artificial light in the production—the
allegorical and mobile Mystery History Bouffe Goof meandered
through eight other large-scale artworks on the “rocky, riverside mound,”
redolent of fresh-baked bread courtesy of a nearby bakery, to its own set piece
on the riverbank: “two giant wood figures tugging at a fragile blue globe
suspended above a small gray battleship,” designed by recent Soviet immigrant Leonid Sokov.
The performance text was built on contributions by
sculptor Sokov, poets Bob Holman and Paul Schmidt (who was also a Meyerhold
expert), composers Phil Marsh and David Linton, circus artist (and Shaliko
actress-teacher) Cecil MacKinnon, and choreographers Kei Takei and Nina Martin,
many of whom also performed in the five episodes that were “specially
conceived” for the Hunters Point performances. (The cast comprised Laz Bresser, Mia Kanazawa,
Mark Kindshi, MacKinnon, Lily Marsh, Michael Preston, Takei, and Tad Truesdale. At Manhattanville, a dozen student performers
also participated.) Described as “an
updated, contemporary version of the story of Noah’s ark, wherein characters,
having gathered atop the World Trade Center, build an ark on stage—and break it
up—steal God’s thunder and lightning, reinvent locomotion, plant trees and take
off and fly,” it was presented as “a utopian piece about the possibilities of a
world based on diversity and respect for individual differences.” As Shapiro pointed out, Shaliko’s
“collaborative process is meant to mirror the world envisioned on stage,”
pointing to the “remarkable range of artists” he had assembled for the project.
Though Shapiro later felt that the
work, which he described at the time as “an anthem for action, and a grand,
insane spectacle full of optimism for the scope of human possibilities,” was
“hippie-ish,” videotapes of the performances at Art on the Beach and
Manhattanville College reveal a raucous and exuberant spirit that ignited the
blunt, utopian message. There was
plainly an air of the street performances of the 1960s—of the kind that Shapiro
himself had conceived and performed in his younger days (see my blog posts “Brother,
You’re Next,” 26 January 2010, and “New York Free Theater,” 4 April 2010)—and even
a little of the Happening; however, the wandering performance, the towering
puppets of foam over a metal or wood frame, the singing, dancing, and
acrobatics more closely evoked the kind of all-day events mounted during Indian
festivals like the Ramlila.
In the scenario of Mystery History
Bouffe Goof as he saw it in completion, Shapiro laid out an elaborate, even
epic, event, carefully conceived with images and actions and metaphorical and
figurative associations for all the aspects of the six acts. In the scenario, the “circus framework” is
clearly worked out, as are the theatrical and performative elements of the
project, “so that circus elements . . . are a natural part of the action.” The director’s vision for the piece also
included sounds created not only by the musical instruments which were part of
the ensemble, but by the actors’ striking parts of the set and everything in
the mise-en-scène, on all of which contact microphones were installed. “In other words,” Shapiro explained, the
company “will create the musical score through the playing of the set just as
members of an orchestra play their instruments.”
In the same way, Shapiro planned that
every part of the mise-en-scène, including the audience, would be incorporated
in the choreography. Had Shapiro
realized the whole project with the same incisive care that he applied to the
segments Shaliko presented, it could certainly have been an exhilarating
theater experience. Alvin Klein called
the play “extravagant” in the New York Times and observers of the
workshop at Yellow Springs remarked on “the incredibly resilient, energetic
quality of the production, which swept the audience up into a posture of a kind
of similarly resilient reception.”
Saying that the performance “inflamed” them, the workshop viewers added,
“It was interesting to be a participant while a spectator, which is very
different from the way one normally is a spectator . . . .”
True to Shaliko philosophy, Mystery History
complected music, poetry, art, and movement from many cultures and sources; especially
prominent were circus arts, in which Shapiro had a special interest since his
days as a student at New York University.
Composer Linton built a kind of xylophone, which Shapiro called a
“communal instrument,” from 36 pieces of pipe and sculptor Sokov created a ten-
or fifteen-foot-long, six-foot-tall ark, modeled after the Bolshevik battleship
Aurora, “with hatches, a gun turret, a tower and two smokestacks,” all
mounted on wheels.
The six acts of Mystery
History each unfolds in a different geographical or allegorical place. The performance space is adjusted according
to the progress of the scenario. At
Manhattanville College, the performance began when a character named Volodya, a
guide, demanded, “Why is the theater nowadays in such a mess?” and offered
to take the spectators “to the wild, wonderful, wacky and wide, wide world of
total spectacle.” When the first act
ends, the stage and seats are set up in a traditional theater configuration and
the ark is built; the flood is represented by the blue-colored seats. In an approximation of what the British dubbed
“promenade theater,” the actors and the spectators occupied the same space and could
move among one another as they wished.
The performance moved about the space in a peripatetic,
processional performance—“in, on, over, under, around, through and with the
sculptures, which become giant puppets as they are animated by the performers,”
who stood above the sculptures on ladders and manipulated the arms with strings
and voiced them over a microphone—visiting such locales as Heaven (depicted as
Disneyland) and the Land of Chaos.
What
happens in the final location, representing hell and the future, was supposed to
surprise the spectators. The monumental
“metaphorical sculpture” designed by Sokov, was described thus:
The installation is of two giant
figures, God and the Devil, with a tightrope stretched between them. On the rope the Earth moves back and forth,
powered by windmills which sit on the heads of the figures. In between, down below, is the Ark. Water will come out of the globe and rain on
the Ark.
. . . .
The two giant figures—God and the
Devil—are approximately twenty feet high.
They face each other across a distance of abo[u]t 25-30 feet. Because the movement of the globe between
them is powered by the windmill-like action of the wings of the birds which are
perched on top of the figures, the globe’s action is irregular and dependent on
the wind; it is always part of the moment.
On the ground between the figures is the Ark, which is a combination of Noah’s
Ark and the battleship Aurora. The Ark
comes apart and is approximately 12-15 feet long and 6 feet high.
On a promotional video for the company from 1992, Shapiro
gave his own description of the ending of the performance:
The scenes of Mystery History
Bouffe Goof at Hunter’s Point, ending with a performer on a tightrope
silhouetted against Manhattan’s skyline, the Empire St[ate Building] prominent
on the left, and with a resounding boom-boom-boom redolent of nearby thunder
claps or art[iller]y barrage. The sounds
are from a moment in the Yellow Springs performance, overlapping the later one
on the tape, when five actors outside huge windows are seen from inside the
room banging rhythmically with open palms on the window panes as curtains
slowly close in from each side, obliterating the performers and literally
cutting them out of the scene to total darkness.
The performer on the tightrope, Mark Kindshi (also the
tech director of the performance), was a “man from the future who walks on
water.” (The tightrope Kindshi walked
was the guy-wire on which the Earth
traveled.) There was no
artificial lighting in the performance at Hunters Point, so by the time the
production reached the final scene at the “ark,” it was dark. Kindshi on the high wire was a silhouette
back-lighted only by the skyline of Manhattan, principally the United Nations
building, across the East River. Shapiro
said that he chose not only the site of that final set piece, but also the starting time of the
performance so that this effect would occur.
(This was not the first time that the Shaliko director had done this:
see my report on The Yellow House,
referenced above.)
Besides its obvious reflections of the 1967 John Arden-Margareta
D’Arcy War Carnival on which Shapiro had collaborated as an NYU student
(see my blog report on 13 May
2010), and the works of the Bread and Puppet Theater, Mystery History
was also very evocative of The Shaliko Company’s namesake ritual, the Zuni
shalako ceremony (“‘May You Be Blessed With Light’: The Zuni Shalako Rite,” posted
on ROT on 22 October 2010). Mystery History’s “giant puppets” and
“ceiling-high moving sculptures” as well as the clowning and the peripatetic
nature of the staging are the focal characteristics of the shalako rite. The shalako itself—the word refers to the
deity, the masked dancer, the mask itself, and the ceremony—is a nine- or
ten-foot-tall figure, towering above the villagers and the attendant each
dancer needs to keep from toppling over.
Six of these shalako personators enter the village after
the way is prepared by “mudhead” clowns, called koyemshi, and the
progress of the shalakos is accompanied by singing, clowning by the koyemshi—some
of it pretty low—and prayers. In fact, the ritual, like Mystery-Bouffe and Mystery History Bouffe Goof, is a kind of circus-cum-mystery
play.
Just as Mystery History tells the tale of Noah’s
flood, the shalakos are representatives of the rainmakers, the principal Zuni
deities, and the ceremony is an interpretation of the Zuni religion. And just as the flood of the Judeo-Christian
Bible signifies rebirth and renewal, so does the shalako ceremony. It would not be wrong, in fact, to see Mystery
History Bouffe Goof in part as Shapiro’s attempt to produce a modern,
Western version of the shalako ceremony with topical political impact. If the shalakos can transform Zuni society,
perhaps a Shaliko production could transform ours. And just as the Navajo healing rites, another
inspiration for the director, were expected to bring the out-of-balance world
back into harmony (see “‘My Mind Restore For Me’: Navajo Healing Ceremonies,” 15 May 2013), Shapiro declared that “MYSTERY will present a vision of an
emerging world culture which doesn’t exist yet but might. A world of balance and diversity which we
might create if we don’t kill each other first.”
Curiously, viewing Mystery History tapes during
the George H. W. Bush-Bill Clinton presidential campaign of 1992 (when I was
doing the principal research for the article of which this blog post was
originally a part) illuminated many issues Shapiro raised in 1987 but which
seemed pertinent again five years later, as well as during the primary
campaigns and presidential and congressional elections of subsequent
years. Most poignant and apt—and
evocative of Situationist philosophy (I blogged on “Guy Debord & The
Situationists,” an influence on Shapiro’s epistemology, on 3 February 2012)—was
the idea that all our choices are really made for us by the way nominees are
selected, as demonstrated in the following exchange between two of the
“Winners” plotting against the “Losers,” who are the ordinary citizens:
COLONEL: . . .
[W]hat they need is “Illusion on a Plate.”
We’ll give them a Leader to
make them think they
rate!
rate!
Let them think they have power, autonomy, a voice
As if they have really had a choice .
. .
MAITRE D’: But of course who they could vote for would be of our
choosing
So we couldn’t help but win—even by
losing.
This
is clearly a manifestation of the broken social compact to which Paul Goodman (1911-72),
another important influence on Shaliko, referred when he asserted a “natural
right to citizenship”:
[T]hey have taken
away my society. . . . . I have the
right to my president just as everybody else does, but they’ve taken away my
right to have my president because they never give me a candidate I could vote
for.
The
same is true of the issues around which campaigns are mounted—a verb identical,
readers will note, to one we use when speaking of plays—as this pronouncement
by a character called Moneyman reveals:
The excitement an election would
generate—
The
spectacle! They’d love it. Why contemplate
Issues that have no
real consequence.
Believe me—they’re much happier in
their innocence.
For
the applicability of Mystery History Bouffe Goof to the real world, we
need only reflect on how Patrick Buchanan, Jerry Brown, and even David Duke
were effectively maneuvered out of contention by a combination of legal
challenges to their places on state presidential ballots and press neglect in
1992, and how the New York State Republican apparatus fought to keep all
challengers to Senator Bob Dole off the presidential primary ballot there in
1996. The same maneuvers were attempted
again in behalf of Republican presidential candidate George W. Bush in the New
York primary campaign of 1999-2000 until the courts intervened to require the
inclusion of contenders Buchanan and John McCain.
In addition, New York State Democrats essentially
anointed First Lady Hillary Clinton, newly moved to New York in order to
qualify for residency, as their senatorial candidate that year and in New
Jersey, Jon Corzine, a multi-millionaire businessman with no electoral
experience or record of public service, used his vast personal fortune to
obtain that state’s Democratic senatorial nomination and, ultimately, the
Senate seat. Furthermore, many political
analysts criticized the presidential candidates in 2000, George W. Bush and
Vice President Al Gore, for waging campaigns devoid of substance, relying on
empty slogans and platitudes designed primarily to make the voters feel
good. (A major issue was which of the
two major-party nominees was more likable.)
Once again, there was also wrangling about the televised presidential
debates, from which prominent independent-party candidates were excluded.
(I’ll
let readers carry the implications of these maneuverings forward to more recent
national and local campaigns. I will,
however, quote one more evocative line from Mystery
History Bouffe Goof: Lady with Hats, one of the “Winners,” asks, “Do you
think they really could be so innocent / Not to see ‘Democracy’ as fraudulent?” Does that ring any bells with anyone?)
It is too bad, in light of these machinations, that the
size and scope of Mystery History Bouffe Goof prohibited the impecunious
Shaliko from reviving it at a propitious time such as, say, the presidential
years of 1988 or 1992. Shapiro would,
however, most likely have seen a message in the very conflict of money versus
political statements. (Remember that Mystery
History Bouffe Goof was composed
almost a quarter of a century before Citizens United v. Federal
Election Commission was decided.
As Allswell, the
establishment-controlled politician, says to Moneyman: “Friend, my good
friend here just reminded me of something—now, don’t grind your axes / Just
look on your contributions as TAXES!”) He
was already on record as stating that the defunding efforts against artists and
arts organizations by the establishment are an insidious form of censorship and
he believed that “there is no question but that the establishment has won and
the experimenters have lost.”
Politics
in general—the partisan, electoral variety—was an overriding concern for
Shapiro. In addition to his sweeping
attention to politics, from the wars in Vietnam and Iraq to our failure to vote
and select our own leaders to our unwillingness to look behind the curtain, the
lack of a successful socialist movement here was a particular focus and Mystery History Bouffe Goof demonstrates
how much he was willing to invest in the subject.
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