.
i've waited so long to articulate everything that's happened with the Onion Cellar in the last few months that i feel like i will alienate everybody with a blog that is so vast and epic in length and scope that only 4 or 5 people will get to the end.
maybe i should offer a prize? a cake?
but how will i i know? maybe a test or an essay question at the end
PLease write an essay of no less than 1500 words describing Amanda's experience with the American Repertory Theater.
or
Please choose 2 out of the 4 following questions, in essay format. Each answer must be no less than 1000 words.
1. Why did Amanda ignore all the red flags waving in her face when she still had time to fix the problem?
2. Is there a difference between art that is "good" and art that is "bad"? What about art that is "safe" or "not safe"?
3. Do you agree with Amanda's decision to continue on with the project despite the drastic turn of events? Why or why not?
4. Please expound on the difficult artistic terrain between "integrity" and "responsibility".
i'll work on it
put on pot of tea. boiling and ignoring it.
2 shows down. 38 shows left.
i feel so fucking weird and alone up there. i can't describe it. i'm working on it.
i needed the onion cellar, it self, most of all. for my self. we make what we need. that's how it works.
there was only one solution tonight:
had to borrow pope's computer, since my disc drive is broken, crawl into bed with headphones, insert Dead Poets Society DVD, watch entirety and weep.
had to put pope's computer back downstairs, still weeping, steal some of his toilet paper (i'm out) come back up here and sit in my cold kitchen.
tomorrow night maybe i'll watch Dancer in the Dark. then the next night, Million Dollar Baby. i'll alternate.
my own little onion cellar atop a few square feet of comforter. crying into stolen toilet paper and getting it all out of my system.
maybe 38 shows later, and Dead Poets Society x 12, Dancer in the Dark x 13 and Million Dollar Baby x 13 later i'll be ready to get up, get dressed, go to the cineplex, watch Borat and start life afresh. hope it's still playing by then.
all the water boiled away, just added more.
right now i'm alone, it feels fine to be alone, standing to the side, and all i have to do is look around and remind myself that for fucks sake, maybe it really did have to be this way, and that every person in the world who's ever tried to make anything real has had to deal with exactly what i'm feeling now.
i should not ever expect it to be easy....i expected that, how stupid...
i SHOULD expect that the majority will not want to cry, splatter, shake, grab, yell, mess, smear, pull...YAWP the world out of it's sleepiness, kicking and screaming!aaahhhhhhhgahgahgfahgfhashfgashgahjlehd.......
"
I went to the woods because i wanted to live deliberately.
i wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...
to put to rout all that was not life;
and not, when i came to die, discover that i had not lived.
"
AAAAAAAAACH!!!!!
.
Monday, December 11, 2006
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28 comments:
Do I ever hear that. You might not believe me, but I think the whole point of blogs is to share experience, and feeling utterly shat and hopelessly lost is one of the best ones.
GOOD LUCK.
"Sucking all the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone".
maybe shit like that happens though when you try so hard for things to work out the way you imagined them.
Perhaps those three movies are not the best uppers. or maybe you are one of those people, like myself, who fuels the mood until it ends, so much more fulfilling that way.
by the way i love your live cover of PJ's "Rid of Me" i looped it one day and i'm still not over it.
if i was in America i would definately go to "The Onion Celler" and react like the hypersensitive thing which i am.
take care of yourself. 41 shows is a lot!
love m
40. Forgive me. i think i included your dress rehearsal open-to-public. still
The age old dilemma, when does your art become someone else's during a collaboration. And what to do if you are still involved, and the new direction is not only differing from yours, but utterly repulsive to you. It's happened to me many a time. And you think that with more success comes more control - as my career grows, these situations will happen less and less. But the sad reality is these nightmares are a part of collaboration at any level. And the better the artists that are collaborating, the harder the clashes. I do hope you will find a way to make peace with the OC. I've got tickets to the final show. See you then - I hope you are still in one piece, or reasonably few pieces.
when i read this, i couldnt help but feel im missing something, probably because you didnt really want to explain how or why the onion celler moved away from what you wanted it to be..
its shattering when things like that happen but without you, the slightest inkling of an idea to produce the onion celler would never have even been conceived.
you cant stop a child from growing, even if you dont like what it becomes, its still your baby.
i cant come see the play, i dont live in america all i want to do when i read your blog is hug you and suggest you watch garden state rather than the films you have been, that'll warm your cockles luvie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Amanda: You are one of the most creative and inspiring performers that I have ever had the opportunity to witness. Every time I indulge in your genius I see how much you force every inch of your being into a one note or a phrase or even a breath of air. When you put so much emotion into a work of art it is heart wrenchingly painful to be censored or changed in anyway. I know that you are hurting with that special kind of hurt that only time, tea, sleep, good movies and good friends will heal. We all love you here in cyberland. This is not pity. This is understanding and agreement. See you sometime this month in the cold city. Come down to Ol' Cape Cod and have a cup of coco, soon. ~S
Amanda: You are one of the most creative and inspiring performers that I have ever had the opportunity to witness. Every time I indulge in your genius I see how much you force every inch of your being into a one note or a phrase or even a breath of air. When you put so much emotion into a work of art it is heart wrenchingly painful to be censored or changed in anyway. I know that you are hurting with that special kind of hurt that only time, tea, sleep, good movies and good friends will heal. We all love you here in cyberland. This is not pity. This is understanding and agreement. See you sometime this month in the cold city. Come down to Ol' Cape Cod and have a cup of coco, soon. ~S
Amanda: You are one of the most creative and inspiring performers that I have ever had the opportunity to witness. Every time I indulge in your genius I see how much you force every inch of your being into a one note or a phrase or even a breath of air. When you put so much emotion into a work of art it is heart wrenchingly painful to be censored or changed in anyway. I know that you are hurting with that special kind of hurt that only time, tea, sleep, good movies and good friends will heal. We all love you here in cyberland. This is not pity. This is understanding and agreement. See you sometime this month in the cold city. Come down to Ol' Cape Cod and have a cup of coco, soon. ~S
Amanda: You are one of the most creative and inspiring performers that I have ever had the opportunity to witness. Every time I indulge in your genius I see how much you force every inch of your being into a one note or a phrase or even a breath of air. When you put so much emotion into a work of art it is heart wrenchingly painful to be censored or changed in anyway. I know that you are hurting with that special kind of hurt that only time, tea, sleep, good movies and good friends will heal. We all love you here in cyberland. This is not pity. This is understanding and agreement. See you sometime this month in the cold city. Come down to Ol' Cape Cod and have a cup of coco, soon. ~S
Amanda: You are one of the most creative and inspiring performers that I have ever had the opportunity to witness. Every time I indulge in your genius I see how much you force every inch of your being into a one note or a phrase or even a breath of air. When you put so much emotion into a work of art it is heart wrenchingly painful to be censored or changed in anyway. I know that you are hurting with that special kind of hurt that only time, tea, sleep, good movies and good friends will heal. We all love you here in cyberland. This is not pity. This is understanding and agreement. See you sometime this month in the cold city. Come down to Ol' Cape Cod and have a cup of coco, soon. ~S
amanda,
i'm sorry i'm not helpful and/or comforting in any way, but i think i know what you feel.
i saw the onion cellar two nights ago. amazing show. you scared the shit out of my friend. she was terrified you were going to come over and stick the mic in her face and expect her to say something.
i hope you feel better.
-jackee
amanda,
i'm sorry i'm not helpful and/or comforting in any way, but i think i know what you feel.
i saw the onion cellar two nights ago. amazing show. you scared the shit out of my friend. she was terrified you were going to come over and stick the mic in her face and expect her to say something.
i hope you feel better.
-jackee
Come work with us in Houston. We are Infernal Bridegroom Productions and we don't suck. We saw the Dolls play in Portland and have had very high regard for your work ever since.
'i should not ever expect it to be easy....i expected that, how stupid...
i SHOULD expect that the majority will not want to cry, splatter, shake, grab, yell, mess, smear, pull...YAWP the world out of it's sleepiness, kicking and screaming!'
However, to the small amount of people who do want to do that and more, you mean the world to them. Please keep that in mind.
I'm sorry if things aren't how you'd like them to be, be it the play or anything else. I wish there was something else I could say or offer, honestly. Loneliness, frustration, disappointment; they're all bitches. All I can really offer up is that they're all only temporary.
Though I will say you should see Borat simply for one reason: A bear in an ice cream truck. That's it. The rest you'll just have to experience.
Hello Amanda,
My flatmate recently lent me your music. I quite like.
Both her and i like the personal, human approach of your blogs. Encore.
I'm a writer, btw; perhaps you'll like my work, and i'd be honored to have Ms. Palmer read it.
Hang in there, and take care.
K.
Hell, I could write another version of what everyone else is saying, and don't get me wrong, they are right, saying many of the things I'm thinking myself, but I don't want to be redundant. No one is going to tell you anything you don't already know. I'm at a loss to give a real contribution to this blog entry since I'll never see the play. I've read comments or posts from people who've seen it, and it's been 98.9% praise and all around goodness. However, I can only imagine you reading it and saying to yourself, "oh you poor people, if you only knew what it could've been, would've been, should've been. It would've really had you crying. It's good but it's so safe, can't you watch it and see how it's not ME, not MINE?" I do wonder how you're taking the praise from people. If it was me I can imagine being happy hearing that people like it but it's not the same because the play isn't what it's meant to be. If I wasn't in this band, what would people think? They wouldn't know me, they'd feel no loyalty to me, what would they really think?
Honestly, I'm sure it's good but I don't think I could see it now without imagining what I assume it would have been if you'd had total control. You'll strive through. I mean, what else can you do really? You ignored the red flags, nothing you can do about it now. Any art you love is good art, right? Do you love it? Should you have continued? That is not easy to answer. What would have happened if you hadn't continued? The what-if's would be greater than they already are. Shit fuck. Just say that 25 times, it'll make you feel better. Go on, do it, I'm serious. Now, go!!!
.......
I think we'd get through you epic blog. It's something that has really meant a lot to you so I think it's earned this web space. I know it give me more insight, and I'm already very curious.
I'll have a cup of tea for you. Maybe two. There's always more art to create, and you could always do the play again, your way, someday, somehow. It's possible isn't it?
All my love,
Andrea
i had heard that the Onion Cellar hadn't turned out the way you'd wanted it to before i saw the performance tonight. my dad is a wesleyan grad ('85), and i'd heard about the show months ago through A.R.T., and it sort of worked out as a birthday present i wasn't expecting. and we went to that reception-y thing but neither of us has any social skills at all so it was awkward and we left.
anyway, i really just wanted to say- i thought it was totally magnificent, even if it wasn't what you'd intended.
i hope you warm to it by the end.
love sarah.
I am so very sorry that I posted the same comment five times. I am blogger illiterate I guess...
2. Is there a difference between art that is "good" and art that is "bad"?
Everything, somewhere within it, is art. Artists are those people who have taken to task showing that art to the world. Pick a medium, express something, and you are an artist.
I have a desk. This desk is oak, simple, solid, and plain. It has existed for around fifty years; it started as my grandfathers work desk, and then became my uncles, before becoming mine. It is art. The hours the carpenter put into cutting the oak to fit together to make the desk, and the generations of homework completed, and papers written, and drawings drawn on the desk, and countess numbers of various items stored inside the desk, are all components of its art. I could express this art in some medium if I wanted to. Acting as and artist, I could say make a painting of the desk that embodies its "_____"ness. I could show that painting to the world and maybe they too would see this "_____"ness in my desk. Then it would stand not as a lifeless object, but as a work of art.
But, I choose not to paint my desk. I would rather see it as my old sturdy desk. The person who built my desk defied the universe in putting it together. They took a formless pile of dead wood and constructed a desk. Simple, strong, and static it has refused the relentless force constantly pushing it rip apart, and return it to an anarchic pile of ash. In its fight, my desk has cataloged its history in every nick and scratch. They tell the scar stories of its life. I hope that whoever built my desk did realize that they were an artist, and fully intended for these ideas to be the voice of there artwork. They chose carpentry as there medium, and built a solid oak desk.
So, you sing, and I write. We have chosen our mediums. We take what we see and what's inside us and we try to give it to the world. They judge it, and since it is ours, they judge us. The judging has two criteria that count: what are we expressing, and how well did we do. Bad artwork expresses nothing, better artwork expresses something poorly, great art work expresses something unmistakably. You could be Pollock and simply express your minds interaction with a canvas. If you do it well enough people will be taken aback. People will cry, people will realize something profound, or meaningful, or see in a new perspective. People will notice. We are all essentially the same, if you are expressing part of yourself effectively, there are people who will identify with it and take notice. If you aren't finding those people find a bigger audience. If they still don't notice, you are either not expressing what you really want, or you are expressing it poorly.
Examine what you are expressing and make sure that it is something that you want to express. If it is, it is worth expressing. However, you may be expressing it in the wrong medium. Making a play about the beauty of cheese might be such a good idea, maybe you should write about it instead. But, then again it may be perfect. If it is perfect you may just not be very good a writing plays. Get better at writing plays, find a medium that is equality perfect, or learn to live with imperfect expression. If you know are a good playwright, and you are expressing yourself truly, then I say fuck 'em and keep on with your play. Eventually people will notice. Just hope it’s before your dead. Either way it is the world's loss for not getting to hear it. So, to answer the question; no, there is no such thing as good art or bad art, only good and bad artists.
I saw you speak at the ART a month or so ago and felt your excitement about the show...I went right home that afternoon and ordered tix online and have followed as much of the media surrounding the show as well...I am interested in all the facets of the show...the set, the actors performances, the new building at 0 Arrow and of course the music...My girlfriend and I are to attend the matinee on Saturday and I can not wait...Don't be so down on it...Your talent preceeds you...it will be fine...How is that for profound!!!! Not everyone's expectations are as high as yours...Be Happy
I have no idea what happened to it that you don't like, but I still wish immensely that I could get to boston to see the show.
I feel my realest and most alive at your shows. You've created a place of creative beauty and pure feeling...god, I don't even have words...but it's something special that isn't around in normal life.
Well, at least my normal life.
If I could justify dropping 500 bucks on flying out from california to see the show, I would. I seriously thought about it.
I don't know what I'm trying to say except that even if you don't feel like what you're creating is working the way you wanted, it's touching and changing people in good ways.
Ummm. I just spent $76 bucks for
tix for Sat's matinee. I don't want to hear this! (Not that I'd be exactly thrilled re-routing said funds to the dopey student loan folks but you get the idea...) Teeth and hands, Amanda. Smile & wave to the adoring public.
down a few shots, slap yourself a few times,and pull yourself out of it. watch plenty of Barat and run around your flat naked for a couple of hours.
the perfect ingredients to heal a stressed amanda.
No serious, depressing business...okay!!!!!!! :)
I am so sorry.
It breaks my heart to know that this has happened to you. It's a razor-edge to an artist to try to create something...pure.
I live in Texas. I will never see the Onion Cellar.
I will always hold in my head the ethereal idea of a place...hidden in an urban spiral of culture...where you cut onions to cry your heart out. It's a world that is still inside you, no matter that you couldn't let other people see it this time. I miss not getting a glimpse of it. I hope I dream about it tonight.
See you dreaming-Belle
I do find the idea of "safe" art and "unsafe" art. I would assume unsafe art is almost guaranteed to be misinterpreted, though. (I found that out recently.)
A friend of mine once said that there's no such thing as "good" art and "bad" art. There is only art that communicates, and art that fails to communicate. It has since been my favorite way of conceiving of art, since anything can be art and many people find meaning in art where I see none and the verse.
That's just it, though. Most of the people you touch, Amanda, you will never hear from, you will never know about, and you will touch them with what you thought were the most miniscule gestures. I guarantee you you've changed lives, but you will probably never know about it.
I've recently discovered the beauty of very public art that invites outside intervention. The joy of it is not the product, but people's reaction to it. Which of course, leaves a strange hole with the realization that I can never see the most important reactions.
181 words. I'll mail you the rest. One. by. one.
I just sighned up to this account blogger thing, whatever you call just to add a comment (or comments.)
I feel like that a lot. I don't like the feeling but it sometimes can be good in a sense. I just looked at some other comments and I know they are far more worth it to read their comments thein mine. Oh well... I feel like their is something you left out in this. But thats okay I do the same thing at times.
I won't be able to see the Onion Cellar, unfortunately, so I really don't know what it's like-- I only have ideas...
I'm sorry for what happened, however -- though it may be tiring to read that again. I dunno, it seems it's really rare for any sort of art to come out exactly as someone has wanted it, and by the time you realize it's gone a different way it's already become like a growing human (didn't someone already make that comparison in a comment?). I hope everything turns out well in whatever way it can be well...
-Masha
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