Before heading out on the campaign trail today, Mr. Clinton signed
just the third of 13 appropriations bills that must reach his desk
before Congress adjourns — the bill financing the Department of
the Interior and related agencies. But he did so only after his
negotiators had extracted key concessions.
The bill contained the first aid increase for the National Endowment
for the Arts since Congress proposed eliminating it in 1995.
To which I add: Yea.
Now, let's watch Karen and Pizza and Eagle pile on and squawk.
Jeff, right now, the only thing I'm concerned about is that the
rf'er pack his duffle bag and get TFO come Jan---They'll have
to call in an exorcist after his gang leaves office.
>
>From today's TIMES:
>
>Before heading out on the campaign trail today, Mr. Clinton signed
>just the third of 13 appropriations bills that must reach his desk
>before Congress adjourns — the bill financing the Department of
>the Interior and related agencies. But he did so only after his
>negotiators had extracted key concessions.
>
>The bill contained the first aid increase for the National Endowment
>for the Arts since Congress proposed eliminating it in 1995.
>
>To which I add: Yea.
>
>Now, let's watch Karen and Pizza and Eagle pile on and squawk.
Jeff,
15 yards for unsportsmanlike conduct. You know full well that we
never expected an end to public funding via the NEA. Our was a theoretical
debate based on what the role of the feds should be. Frankly, the NEA funding
is lost in the rounding and in this appropriations season as in the past, WJC
has shown a willingness to horse trade and when you compromise, you can't
win 100% so, let's all be happy that he signed some appropriations bills.
Karen never disappoints, does she?
Doc
First appropriations hike since 1992 will fund community outreach and arts
education projects
October 5, 2000
Washington, D.C. -- Today, the Senate passed appropriations legislation
granting the National Endowment for the Arts a $105 million budget for
Fiscal Year 2001, giving the agency its first budget increase in eight
years. The measure was passed by the House on Tuesday and President Clinton
is expected to sign the legislation shortly. The $7 million spending hike
will fund community outreach and arts education projects as part of the
NEA's Challenge America initiative.
"This is a tremendous victory," said Bill Ivey, Chairman of the National
Endowment for the Arts. "It is the culmination of a decade-long fight in
which the President, our supporters in the House and Senate and many
thousands of citizens working at the grass-roots level fought and won a
battle to protect our nation's continuing investment in arts and culture. It
is the beginning of a restoration process that will enable all Americans to
benefit from our country's rich and varied living cultural heritage."
The $7 million budget increase will fund community outreach and arts
education projects as part of the NEA's Challenge America initiative.
Challenge America will connect arts organizations more closely with families
and communities, provide access to the arts in underserved communities and
encourage the development of cultural organizations.
The Arts Endowment has received flat funding of just under $100 million for
the past five years. The agency's funding peaked in 1992, with $176 million.
More information on Challenge America is available on the Web site.
http://www.arts.gov/endownews/news00/Funding.html
Paul ("cite your sources") Wilson
Fayetteville, NC
"Politics is the art of the possible"
"Politics is not an exact science."
"Politics ruins the character."
and
"The luxury of one's own opinion."
All by Otto von Bismarck.
Doc
I don't think the NEA will ever die because some politicians pull the
plug on it. The NEA will only die when it becomes irrelevant -- when
society matures enough to realize that more can be accomplished for the
good of all by allowing freedom (limited, of course, to respect for
individual rights) than by the use of force. Too many vested interests
want to keep the NEA afloat, so a change won't happen overnight.
Society has to change first. Politics is only the end result of the
dominant philosophy of the culture.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
You might find Joe Klein's article in the current NEW YORKER interesting.
Never said you did. But it's good news for me, ya know. I believe in the
agency. I think it's done good things for the arts, the artists and the
public, so I applaud the increase, however modest.
It's particularly fitting in the wake of Sidney Yates's recent death. A nice
memorial.
Well, I truly hope that someday it becomes irrelevant and that this society
learns to value what is truly valuable by giving it appropriate support. Till
then, though --
I wish we had as active "vested interests" as those that dole out so much
corporate welfare and support plans like building a stadium on the West Side of
New York to help make Steinbrunner richer. THAT's what I call "vested
interests."
The day: agreed, horrible, tragic, appalling.
BTW Jeff---I'm against corporate dole for baseball owners too---voted
against the bonds for the new stadium to be built in San Diego.
Karen
Haven't read the book yet myself, but here's a pertinent article to our
discussion (debate, wrangle, battle -- whatever you want to call it):
http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/10/12/munson/index.html
It's worth examining the fact that the NEA, to my knowledge, has never
defined exactly what art is -- only that it would support "artistic
merit and excellence." But that is an evaluation according to some
standard, but not a standard in itself. If ANYTHING is art just
because an "artist" says it's art, then how does one evaluate it as
having "excellence" or not? Excellence according to what standard?
What's the essential difference between very bad art and something that
isn't art at all? I'm not talking about what art DOES -- that it
challenges society's attitudes, for instance. It might. But art can
also inspire. How does one define what "art" IS?
http://www.reason.com/0010/fe.td.angry.html
I understand how foes of government arts funding are disturbed by the lack of a
clear definition of what art and artistic excellence are. Luckily, as with
those assumedly necessary weapons systems, the government hires experts to
choose the institutions (and, occasionally, artists) that get federal funding,
and it costs me pennies a year.
The article is interesting, though I disagree with some of what she says.
"But politics and art are two very different things and to confuse them is very
dangerous for both." This is a patently silly statement. Politics is a social
phenomenon and much of art (particularly the performing arts) is, too, so
inevitably the arts are going to frequently engage political issues. To
suggest that art should steer clear of politics is to cut off subject matter
that has inspired much good work. Shakepare's histories are certainly
political. Daumier's work, too.
Art is a combination of intention and reception, to my mind. If you intend to
make art and a significant part of the audience receives it as art, then it's
likely you have made art. It shouldn't be accidental or natural (a sunset,
while beautiful, is not art), it should at least involve choice and
point-of-view (a painting of a sunset could be art). If you make what you
think is art and nobody else thinks it is, at best you've made failed art.
Obviously it's easier to appreciate something as art if it falls into
established forms of composition and distribution. A theatre piece that is
performed in a conventional theatre is more easily perceived as a play than a
happening staged by some avant garde group in the middle of an audience that
didn't know they were going to be an audience.
Yes, there is some trendy stuff going on, some of it silly. But some of it
also acts as research and development and ends up being incorporated into more
mainstream stuff. If you saw A CHORUS LINE you saw elements of staging
appropriated and adapted from work by the Living Theatre in the Sixties, for
instance.
> Art is a combination of intention and reception, to my mind. If you
intend to
> make art and a significant part of the audience receives it as art,
then it's
> likely you have made art.
But if the audience reception to a supposed work of art is an important
element in judging whether it indeed IS a work of art, then how can
government arts funding panels judge a submission as being a work of
art, or even as having "artistic merit and excellence" BEFORE it's
received by a significant part of the audience?
It shouldn't be accidental or natural (a sunset,
> while beautiful, is not art), it should at least involve choice and
> point-of-view (a painting of a sunset could be art).
I agree with you that it shouldn't be accidental or natural. But a
number of writers I know think that making conscious choices about what
they're writing about would be antithetical to the creative process,
and they encourage "accident" in art and letting the "natural" muse
simply work through them.
I also agree that having a point-of-view is important. But I also know
a number of writers who think that the artist shouldn't have a point of
view of the subject matter they present, and should let the audience
decide for themselves how to interpret it. I even remember a "New York
Times" interview with the creators of "Assassins" (when it premiered at
Playwrights Horizons), where Sondheim and/or Zaks expressed similar
sentiments that it wasn't their job to have a viewpoint about the
subject, but for the audience to make up their own minds instead. I
don't buy that argument. A writer writing about a certain subject is
assumed to have at least thought about the subject more than an
audience member would, so if there ARE any conclusions to be drawn,
shouldn't the writer be in the best position to state them? The
audience will make up their own minds regardless of whether or not the
artist clearly states their point of view on the subject. I can see it
being more consistent to say that the audience should only contemplate
the subject matter, as the writer has, and shouldn't draw any
conclusions either -- but that's not what most people argue.
I don't think a writer can really get away from having some point-of-
view, whether they admit it or not. There's a point-of-view implied in
just the choice of subject matter, if not in the style of
presentation. But even if the point-of-view is to try and not express
any point-of-view -- well, that's a point-of-view in itself.
> If you make what you
> think is art and nobody else thinks it is, at best you've made failed
art.
>
It depends on what "you" think art is. Just because "you" do it
doesn't make it art in itself. If I say that spitting is art, and I
show you all the different creative ways I can spit, but I can't
convince anyone else that this is art, is it just failed art, or am I
really a con artist, and how would you tell the difference? On the
other side -- in the context of Vincent Van Gogh's time, he may have
called his work art, but few others thought it was then, so in the
context of his own time, did he make failed art?
> Obviously it's easier to appreciate something as art if it falls into
> established forms of composition and distribution. A theatre piece
that is
> performed in a conventional theatre is more easily perceived as a
play than a
> happening staged by some avant garde group in the middle of an
audience that
> didn't know they were going to be an audience.
>
True.
> Yes, there is some trendy stuff going on, some of it silly. But some
of it
> also acts as research and development and ends up being incorporated
into more
> mainstream stuff.
>
The NEA is supposed to fund works of "artistic merit and excellence."
Do you think it should also be funding works that are for "research and
development" as well?
See, this is what makes me suspect you don't know what the NEA is about.
Most of the money goes to funding institutions' operating costs and educational
arms. There has been no direct funding of individual artists for years.
(Which I regret. I got one of those grants years ago and it made a major
difference in my career.) And when those grants were made, they were made on
the basis of past work. Somebody was likely to be a candidate for funding
because they had a track record of well-received work in their field --
productions, exhibitions, etc. -- as well as being reviewed by a peer group. I
remember that one of the judges for my award was Romulus Linney. Very
satisfying because a) I think he's an important American dramatist and it was
nice to have him express a good opinion of my work through his recommendation,
and b) after getting the grant I met him, we became friendly, and he ended up
hiring me to teach at the Actors Studio, which is a significant chunk of my
livelihood these days. So the NEA experience was plenty positive for me. But
I got that grant because a play of mine called PORCH had made a bit of a stir
and, on the basis of that, the panel thought I was worth supporting.
Incidentally, PORCH is NOT an experimental play. It's very realistic, is one
long scene in real time, and has little overt political content. Not a trendy
choice at all. Just, I think, a good play. Anyway, it still gets done a lot,
thank God. (A revival is scheduled in Portland, OR this winter.)
> But a number of writers I know think that making conscious choices about what
they're writing about would be antithetical to the creative process, and they
encourage "accident" in art and letting the "natural" muse simply work through
them.
But making the choice to be open to accidents is in itself a conscious choice.
To put oneself into a state of mind in which one trusts following the intuitive
a little. Besides, you ALWAYS rewrite and clean it up. As the saying goes,
"the first draft is written by the artist, the second by the critic."
>But I also know a number of writers who think that the artist shouldn't have a
point of view of the subject matter they present, and should let the audience
decide for themselves how to interpret it.
There's a difference between having a point-of-view and overtly articulating it
in the text of the work. Every artist knows he or she has a p.o.v. whenever
you commit anything to paper. But the craft lies in not evaluating your own
work, articulating your themes, but rather in encouraging the audience to put
the pieces together for themselves. I do a lot of writing and teaching on
this. I call it putting the premises onstage and leaving the conclusions to
the audience. If you put the premises onstage correctly, most of the audience
is indeed going to arrive at the conclusions you intend. But it's better to
let the audience figure it out than to write a speech articulating the theme.
Doing the latter results in preachy, tedious plays.
>I even remember a "New York Times" interview with the creators of "Assassins"
(when it premiered at Playwrights Horizons), where Sondheim and/or Zaks
expressed similar
sentiments that it wasn't their job to have a viewpoint about the
subject, but for the audience to make up their own minds instead.
Well, I know these guys a little and I doubt they would deny they have
viewpoints. But good theatre is about not articulating what your viewpoint is
in overt language but about encouraging the audience to create the meaning with
you in their response. They made very strong, sometimes outrageous choices
with that material which, of course, were calculated to trigger strong
responses. Making such choices presupposes a strong p.o.v. I have a hunch you
misread the article.
>so if there ARE any conclusions to be drawn,
>shouldn't the writer be in the best position to state them?
Maybe in a position, but to state them isn't very artful. you want to state
your positions, you write an essay. In the theatre, you don't articulate your
theme if you want the audience to invest in the evening. And, indeed, the
audience resents writers who are so presumptuous asto put Cliff Notes about
their own material in the text. And I resist talking about the themes of my
plays when I get interviewed. That stuff sounds pompous and off-putting in
print, and I think discourages an audience from attending.
>If I say that spitting is art, and I show you all the different creative ways
I can spit, but I can't convince anyone else that this is art, is it just
failed art, or am I really a con artist, and how would you tell the difference?
My hunch is that you might be deluded, which is something else. But some
people think that the movie TITANIC is art and there's a lot of spitting in
that.
>On the other side -- in the context of Vincent Van Gogh's time, he may have
called his work art, but few others thought it was then, so in the context of
his own time, did he make failed art?
Different ages see different works as having different values. So the artistic
status of a work is not a fixed thing but something that rises and falls
depending, yes, on how it's received by an evolving audience. Sometimes we see
things and wonder why previous audiences were so stupid as to not recognize the
palpable greatness. But this simply underscores my contention that art is in
the intermix of intention and reception. And, being so changeable, not subject
to scientific description.
>The NEA is supposed to fund works of "artistic merit and excellence." Do you
think it should also be funding works that are for "research and development"
as well?
Well, I would like it to, if it were funding people who seem to be IN THE
PROCESS of worthwhile exploration. For instance, Paul Sills has spent his life
in a constant state of worthwhile exploration. Little of his work has made a
big splash in the general consciousness, but it has influenced such more
polished pieces as RAGTIME, THE GRAPES OF WRATH, NICK NICK and endless number
of pieces developed through improvisational techniques he helped pioneer.
Funding Paul Sills would be a very smart thing, to my mind, because he has been
like Johnny Appleseed, planting trees that have borne fruit for countless
others.
Karen, don't you ever get tired of demonizing people who you disagree with
philosophically.
I know that WE are sure TIRED of you doing it.
Just because YOU believe something, try not to be so arrogant as to think
that God or whoever is in agreement with you.
It makes you truly insufferable.
Yeah, but even God's in agreement on me with this one!
> Yeah, but even God's in agreement on me with this one!
The frightening thing about your post, Karen, is that you actually believe
it.
For a person who loves musical theatre, you're otherwise a disgrace.
This was a very interesting take on the issue. Thanks for sharing it. It's
nice to read something that has a definite point of view without being
shrill and strident about it.
Doc
The Ambien is starting to kick in.
Doc
"'The piece should speak for itself,' Mr. Sondheim says. 'We don't
want to tell people how or what they should think about. We don't want
to preach or promulgate.'
And then the composer, who has presented his audiences with so many
challenges over the years, gently issues another, 'What would be nice
is to tell them to take the journey with us," he says. 'It's a real
roller-coaster ride.'"
I understand your argument: "If you put the premises onstage correctly,
most of the audience is indeed going to arrive at the conclusions you
intend" (although I'm not certain exactly what you mean
by "correctly"). And I generally agree that preachy speeches are
ineffective (although in Ayn Rand's novel, "Atlas Shrugged" -- second
only to the Bible in being cited as a book which has most changed
people's lives -- Rand goes on for 60 pages in a speech that very
explicitly "tells" her audience what she's trying to convey -- so
there's always an exception to every rule). But it strikes me as a bit
less than candid to say of one's intentions, "We don't want to tell
people how or what they should think about." Of course they do -- just
not overtly! For starters, of course they wanted to have people think
about American assassinations. By their very choice of subject matter,
they "told" people WHAT to think about. HOW they were supposed to
think about it is a bit more ambivalent, but if I were to go through
the script, I'm sure I could find examples of HOW one was supposed to
interpret what was being portrayed (and the telling details would
probably be more in what contexts and details were left out of the
situations being presented than in what was actually included) (By the
way, I was one of the few who actually saw the original run of the
show, so I'm not speaking out of ignorance).
The authors put their premises on stage and wanted the audience to draw
a certain conclusion (presumably about how uniquely violent America is -
- it's yet another play with the general theme of "the dark side of the
American dream" -- or "there's something rotten in the State of the
Union") but without overtly stating it. If taken absolutely literally,
I suppose you could say I misinterpreted Sondheim's remarks, and that
what Sondheim said was indeed true: they didn't want to "tell" the
audience anything -- but nevertheless they certainly were trying to
SHOW it.
I could more readily accept him saying that they didn't want to hit
people over the head with their "message," but there was indeed an
implied "message" in the show. It was obviously not a mindless piece of
entertainment for the "tired businessman." They wanted their audience
to think about the subject, and wanted them to think about it in a
certain way, even if they weren't going to "tell" them overtly.
Eagle
Yes, this is consistent with what I'm saying. Preaching is when you tell
people what to think, and usually people resent the hell out of it. Especially
in entertainment.
>I understand your argument: "If you put the premises onstage correctly,
>most of the audience is indeed going to arrive at the conclusions you
>intend" (although I'm not certain exactly what you mean
>by "correctly").
Well, it's a little like algebra. If I write 2x=54, you're gonna figure out
that x=27. Let's say I wanted you to think "27." Then I've set up the
circumstances at which you figure out "27" for yourself. Or let's say I say of
Andrew, "He tipped fifty cents on 40-dollar check." You're gonna draw a
conclusion about Andrew on the basis of that behavior, yes? My hunch is the
word that you're going to think is "stingy." That would be correct.
> And I generally agree that preachy speeches are ineffective (although in Ayn
Rand's novel, "Atlas Shrugged" -- second
only to the Bible in being cited as a book which has most changed people's
lives -- Rand goes on for 60 pages in a speech that very explicitly "tells" her
audience what she's trying to convey -- so there's always an exception to every
rule). But it strikes me as a bit less than candid to say of one's intentions,
"We don't want to tell
people how or what they should think about." Of course they do -- just
not overtly!
Yes, but that's the point of art! In my opinion. And of course they don't
want to announce in an interview what their intentions are. That's a great way
of setting yourself up to be smacked by the press. "Sondheim said that this is
meant to represent thus-and-such -- he wishes!" Also, if you announce you
thesis in press that the audience can read, it short-circuits their function in
the theatre. I try never to talk directly about theme when I'm interviewed.
(Besides, people don't flock to a show because it has a particular theme. If
you're gonna do p.r., do effective p.r.)
>>Re ASSASSINS: (By the way, I was one of the few who actually saw the
original run of the Show, so I'm not speaking out of ignorance).
So did I. Things to admire in it, but not my favorite show by a long shot. No
pun intended ...
> If taken absolutely literally, I suppose you could say I misinterpreted
Sondheim's remarks, and that what Sondheim said was indeed true: they didn't
want to "tell" the audience anything -- but nevertheless they certainly were
trying to SHOW it.
Well, yes. As I say, that's the point. Theatre isn't explicit -- like an
essay or editorial -- it's IMplicit. You don't involve an audience by doing
all the work for them.
>I could more readily accept him saying that they didn't want to hit people
over the head with their "message," but there was indeed an implied "message"
in the show. It was obviously not a mindless piece of
entertainment for the "tired businessman." They wanted their audience to think
about the subject, and wanted them to think about it in a certain way, even if
they weren't going to "tell" them overtly.
Working implicitly isn't just about not articulating "the message," it's about
even making sure that certain specific facts or details are conjured by the
audience rather than having them explained.
For instance, Mark Twain once wrote about a guy who cheated him on a business
deal. This man has since died. Twain says of him, "But I bear him no malice.
In fact, I'd send him a fan if I could." There's not theme in that joke. But
there is something that is left unstated for the audience to figure out --
where Twain imagines his dead enemy is spending his afterlife. If Twain had
used the word "Hell" he would have blown the joke.
Eagle
"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you
nothing. It was here first." - Mark Twain
Every playwriting instructor I know says this the very first day.
It is a fundamental truth in any art form.
Doc
Not necessarily. Andrew could be some European who thinks that a service
charge has automatically been added to his bill---or there were SERIOUS
issues with the service itself. Sometimes the really fun/interesting
situations are set up when you think [by law of averages, i.e. "Andrew
is cheap"] it's because of reason X---but then you find out reason Z was
the real reason. Something turning out to be because it was not the
obvious is usually more gratifying.
Karen
Karen, the point of the post wasn't the fictitious Andrew, the point was that
if you just give people data, they will draw their own conclusions, and that
will be more involving than if someone on the stage tells them the conclusions
the author wants them to ingest. If you don't like my example, fine, but the
theory actually does work. Most of the score of MY FAIR LADY is based on the
premises-and-conclusions model, in fact.
Eagle
Oh, no dispute here-sorry if it came off that way. Just pointing out
that often times the fun comes when a reason/result is not the "obvious"
one.
Karen