You see, I have made a great discovery. I no longer believe in anything. Objects don't exist for me except in so far as a rapport exists between them or between them and myself. When one attains this harmony, one reaches a sort of intellectual non-existence — what I can only describe as a sense of peace, which makes everything possible and right. Life then becomes a perpetual revelation. That is true poetry.
--George Braques, artist
The Exalted--a modern performance piece born out of a collaboration by two artists quite revered in their respective fields--chronicles the last years of German-Jewish art historian Carl Einstein as he advocates for the merits of African art, rallies against the rising German fascists and sheds light on the first genocide of the 20th century: in German occupied France.
Themes so distinct, yet clearly related, were toyed with and conveyed via spoken word, song, monologues, movement and brief exchange between the two players. A video projection provided the backdrop and thusly more context and visual stimulation.
Without a real story or even formal dialogue to advance the what of very complex situations, the piece--at its best--aspired towards a "rapport" between objects and ideas that Braques so poetically mused on in his thinking about beliefs and convictions. That said, while the ability to "not know" and to see the perpetual opportunity for connection between all things is integral for performers, it seems a sense of commitment to some dramatic purpose--when structuring the script and story--is most needed. For without some kind of anchor to which the piece is committed, an avant-garde, form defying piece such as The Exalted merely feels like a college thesis project.
All in all, the piece proved that, sometimes, more (stuff) is not always better. Amalgamation of disparate parts can certainly equal a greater whole if in service of a story that is on some fundamental level--be it conscious or unconscious--vital, impactful or meaningful. With a gifted writer/actor (who did seem to be "indicating" in Meisner's terms and not so authentic) and a brilliant musician/player (whose physical command of his instrument put the audience at ease) there were moments of artistic synergy which produced thoughtful introspection.
But the video added nothing; I dare say it detracted from things. Sometimes overstimulation distracts the soul, the mind, the emotions--or, at the very least, the senses from relating. Mind you, we synthesize all artistic experience through our joint senses. Many of the images seemed unrelated or misleading relative to the story. They often lagged behind the spoken/sung text if/when they were intended ot somehow align and on a few very painful occasions the images used (ie: bright, florescent clip art flowers) looked like random 90's era power point presentations excavated from the floppy disk of a 7th grade girl. At best, the later provided a laugh; at worst, it cheapened what the creators wished to convey.
The fact that Anne Bogart directed this piece simply astounds me. Upon reflection, her penchant for the primitive, the incorporation of the ritual and sacred and her emphasis on gestural language beyond mere movement were noticeable. But unlike so much of the Bogart work we've come to admire and adore, it fell flat--perhaps because the script, story and players were not fully integrated; not working towards more than a "rapport" between themselves; with no objective in their hearts and mind.
All in all, the piece had significant problems but it prompts the perennial question--does it matter? Do those problems matter?
I don't think this piece will move the masses, but it was created and did something for its creators and generated at least on standing ovation. In our "criticism", lest we not forget how difficult it is to make anything--even something only partially good (which those most certainly has its parts). Lest we forget the privilege and duty of art is not so much to succeed but to fail, not so much to achieve but to perceive.
John Cage quipped that it is impossible to be both creative and critical at the same time. So here I'll remove the critics cap to say even that which was doesn't move or shake us can in some way prod us towards the creative--if by nothing else, by showing us what not to do.