Critical

ISLANDIA
10.08.2018

Drag performer La Brandy sings on stage at a gay club, dressed in dark tulle and holding a microphone in her white polka-dot gloves. The crowd is blurred in motion, holding up cameras as they dance.

Esta imagen es del fotógrafo Óscar Sánchez Gómez quien la tomó en un evento privado en el centro nocturno La Purísima, unos días antes de su inauguración oficial en el 2010. Sobre escena se presenta la legendaria Brandy, quien interpretó "Bad Romance" de Lady Gaga en aquella ocasión. La Brandy está retirada del mundo del espectáculo y ahora se dedica al estilismo.

This photo was taken by photographer Óscar Sánchez Gómez at a private event held at La Purísima nightclub in downtown Mexico City a few weeks before it officially opened in 2010. The performer is legendary La Brandy, who interpreted Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" on that occasion. La Brandy is now fully dedicated to her career as a beautician.

In English below.


La critica y lo crítico

La Critica y lo crítico

Lo inmediato. La tensión y el placer de persistir sobre aquella delgada línea, la que nos lleva a cruzar universos, escenarios, dificultades. Lo crítico es el número de cabaret que acaba de terminar, sin importar si fue tedioso o satisfactorio, sin importar si estuvimos sobre el escenario o en el público. Lo crítico es la sensación que se queda en el pecho y la tensión de los músculos de la cara, queda suspendido en el aire como polvos mágicos.

Sabes? La tela sobre el escenario es idéntica a la que cubrió el cuerpo de mi padre cuando murió. En su momento pensé que debíamos quemar esa tela, pero mi madre simplemente la guardó… Esta noche le aventamos globos de agua.

El impulso crítico de ser, crear y sobrevivir a través del compartir es lo que hace un show. El escenario sucede cuando artistas y audiencia se presentan. El cabaret sucede antes, durante y después del espectáculo: reside en una forma específica de crear y ser espectadorx.

Lo crítico está también en la forma en la que nos relacionamos entre nosotres, la forma en la que creamos cultura cabaretera. Pasamos de ser artista a ser público, de ser presentadorx a ser organizadorx, y mientras que el show pasa de tener actos excelente, a actos aceptables y actos no tan aceptables, desarrollamos lo que artistas y críticas del cabaret tales como Alisa Salomon (citada en Dolan, 2013), Danette MacKay y T.L. Cowan (comunicación personal, 2018) llaman el conocimiento de lo que sí y no funciona sobre el escenario (aunque no siempre sea necesario señalarlo). Es decir, vamos desarrollando la capacidad de ver cómo los traspiés sirven para darle perspectiva al espectáculo como conjunto. El aprender a hacer y leer cabaret significa que comprendemos que ningún show tendrá una serie de actos de la misma calidad, y que apreciamos las faltas, o como dice Donna Haraway, nos quedamos con los problemas (Haraway, 2016).

En una carta que cita Eve Sedgwick, Joseph Litvak le cuenta que “mucha energía queer […] se vierte en… prácticas encaminadas a restarle el terror al error, a hacer de los deslices algo posiblemente sexy, creativo y hasta cognitivamente poderoso” (Sedgwick, 2003). Es precisamente esta energía queer y conocimiento crítico que alimental a la puesta en escena del cabaret. Adicionalmente, esta energía queer y conocimiento crítico son la columna vertebral del Cabare Commons Critical Project: los buscamos en nuestros marcos teóricos, los reconocemos en nuestras metodologías creativas.

Los encontramos en lo que Jill Dolan explica como ejercer una práctica de público feminista y generosidad crítica. Es decir, una “estrategia de diálogo, no sólo entre el/la críticx y el/la artista, pero esperamos que también entre una comunidad amplia de público, escritorxs y realizdorxs de arte quienes se ven a sí mismxs como parte de un proyecto más grande de creación de un mundo en el que cada producción, cada pieza de arte importa” (Dolan, 2013).

También los encontramos en el impulso al que Eve Sedgwick ser refiere como lectura reparadora. “Como Proust, quien ejerce la lectura reparadora ´se ayuda a sí mismx una y otra vez´; no es tan solo importante, sino posible encontrar formas de atender a estos motivos y posicionalidades reparadoras” (Sedgwick, 2003). Por lo tanto, la lectura reparadora significa desarrollar una práctica crítica desde la cual podemos aprender “las muchas formas en las que seres y comunidades consiguen extraer sustento de los objetos de una cultura” – aun cuando esta cultura se esfuerza en negarles dicho sustento (Sedgwick, 2003).

Más aún, los encontramos en el compromiso empático que Irit Rogoff llama “criticality” o criticalidad. Esto significa un reconocimiento que al ser críticxs, nos encontramos en una “doble ocupación en la que estamos plenamente armadxs del conocimiento de criticar, capaces siempre de revelar mientras que, al mismo tiempo, compartimos y vivimos las mismísimas circunstancias a través de las cuales miramos” (Rogoff, 2003). Al ejercer la criticalidad, la autora explica, “ejercemos una dualidad que requiere al mismo tiempo tanto un modo analítico y la demanda de producir nuevas subjetividades que den cuenta de lo que Hannah Arendt llamó ´compañerxs de sufrimiento´ de las mismas condiciones que estamos examinando críticamente” (Rogoff, 2003).

Hacer que el show suceda es crítico. Crear y presentarse son tan críticos como simplemente llegar a formar parte del público. El diálogo es portátil, sucede mientas nos presentamos, mientras observamos, pensamos, escribimos. Comprender lo que no funciona, observar los errores, ejercer observación feminista, practicar la generosidad crítica, la lectura reparadora y la criticalidad es a lo que venimos. Una relación crítica con el cabaret es una práctica capaz de ser social, política, sexual, cultural y físicamente transformadora

The Critical

The immediate. The tension and pleasure of persisting on that fine line we walk, the one that gets us across and into worlds, stages, trouble. The critical is the cabaret number that just ended, whether it was tedious or satisfying, whether we are on stage or in the audience. It is in the feeling it left in our chest and tensed face muscles, it is suspended in the air like polvos mágicos.

You know, that comforter on stage is exactly like the one we covered my father with when he died. I thought we should burn that comforter, but my mom just stored it… Tonight we throw water balloons at it.

The critical impulse to be, create and survive through sharing is what makes a show. The stage happens when performers and audience show up. Cabaret happens before during and after the show, it resides in a specific type of creation and spectatorship.

The critical is also in the way we relate to each other and craft cabaret culture. As we shift from maker to spectator to performer to organizer, and as the show moves along from amazing to okay to not-so-great numbers, we develop what cabaret artists and critics such as Alisa Salomon (cited in Dolan, 2013), Danette MacKay and T.L. Cowan (personal communication, 2018) refer to as a knowledge of what does and does not work on stage (though we don’t always point it out). We realize how the missteps bring a show into perspective. Learning to read and do cabaret means understanding not only that no show will ever have a set of equally wonderful numbers, but to appreciate the fumbles, or as Donna Haraway puts it, stay with the trouble (Haraway, 2016).

Joseph Litvak, in personal communication shared with Eve Sedgwick, explains “a lot of queer energy [...] goes into... practices aimed at taking the terror out of error, at making the making of mistakes sexy, creative, even cognitively powerful” (Sedgwick, 2003). It is precisely this queer energy and critical knowledge that drives a cabaret show. Moreover, this queer energy and critical knowledge is the backbone of The Cabaret Commons Critical Project; we seek it in our theoretical frameworks, we recognize it our creative methodologies.

We find it in what Jill Dolan refers to as feminist spectatorship and critical generosity. That is, a “strategy for dialogue, not just between the critic and the artist but also hopefully among a community of spectators and writers and arts makers who see themselves as part of a larger project of world making in which every production, every piece of art, matters” (Dolan, 2013).

We also find it in the impulse that Eve Sedgwick refers to as reparative reading. “Like Proust, the reparative reader ‘helps himself again and again’; it is not only important, but possible to find ways of attending to such reparative motives and positionalities” (Sedgwick, 2003). Therefore, reparative reading means developing a critical practice from which we can learn “the many ways selves and communities succeed in extracting sustenance from the objects of a culture - even of a culture whose avowed desire has often been not to sustain them” (Sedgwick, 2003).

Furthermore, we find it in the empathetic engagement Irit Rogoff has called criticality. This means recognizing that in being critical, we find ourselves in a “double occupation in which we are both fully armed with the knowledges of critique, able to analyse and unveil while at the same time sharing and living out the very conditions which we are able to see through” (Rogoff, 2003). Through practicing criticality, she explains, “[w]e live out a duality that requires at the same time both an analytical mode and a demand to produce new subjectivities that acknowledge that we are what Hannah Arendt has termed ‘fellow sufferers’ of the very conditions we are critically examining” (Rogoff, 2003).

Making the show happen is critical. Creating, performing, and showing up are critical. The dialogue is portable, it is happening as we perform, as we watch, think, write. Understanding what does not work, engaging with mistakes, having a feminist spectatorship, practicing critical generosity, reparative reading and criticality is what we are here for. A critical relationship with cabaret is a socially, politically, sexually, culturally, physically transformative and transforming practice.

References:

Dolan, Jill. The Feminist Spectator in Action: Feminist Criticism for the Stage and Screen. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013.

Haraway, Donna Jeanne. Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Experimental Futures: Technological Lives, Scientific Arts, Anthropological Voices. Durham: Duke University Press, 2016.

Rogoff, Irit. “From Criticism to Critique to Criticality.” Eipcp.net, 2003. http://eipcp.net/transversal/0806/rogoff1/en. (Accessed August 20, 2018).

Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. “Paranoid Reading and Reparative Reading, Or, You’re So Paranoid, You Probably Think This Essay is About You.” In Touching Feeling: Affect, Pedagogy, Performativity. Series Q. Durham: Duke University Press, 2003.

Traducciones de textos en inglés: Islandia

(In English below)


La critica y lo crítico

Lo inmediato. La tensión y el placer de persistir sobre aquella delgada línea, la que nos lleva a cruzar universos, escenarios, dificultades. Lo crítico es el número de cabaret que acaba de terminar, sin importar si fue tedioso o satisfactorio, sin importar si estuvimos sobre el escenario o en el público. Lo crítico es la sensación que se queda en el pecho y la tensión de los músculos de la cara, queda suspendido en el aire como polvos mágicos.

The Critical

The immediate. The tension and pleasure of persisting on that fine line we walk, the one that gets us across and into worlds, stages, trouble. The critical is the cabaret number that just ended, whether it was tedious or satisfying, whether we are on stage or in the audience. It is in the feeling it left in our chest and tensed face muscles, it is suspended in the air like polvos mágicos.

You know, that comforter on stage is exactly like the one we covered my father with when he died. I thought we should burn that comforter, but my mom just stored it… Tonight we throw water balloons at it.

The critical impulse to be, create and survive through sharing is what makes a show. The stage happens when performers and audience show up. Cabaret happens before during and after the show, it resides in a specific type of creation and spectatorship.

The critical is also in the way we relate to each other and craft cabaret culture. As we shift from maker to spectator to performer to organizer, and as the show moves along from amazing to okay to not-so-great numbers, we develop what cabaret artists and critics such as Alisa Salomon (cited in Dolan, 2013), Danette MacKay and T.L. Cowan (personal communication, 2018) refer to as a knowledge of what does and does not work on stage (though we don’t always point it out). We realize how the missteps bring a show into perspective. Learning to read and do cabaret means understanding not only that no show will ever have a set of equally wonderful numbers, but to appreciate the fumbles, or as Donna Haraway puts it, stay with the trouble (Haraway, 2016).

Joseph Litvak, in personal communication shared with Eve Sedgwick, explains “a lot of queer energy [...] goes into... practices aimed at taking the terror out of error, at making the making of mistakes sexy, creative, even cognitively powerful” (Sedgwick, 2003). It is precisely this queer energy and critical knowledge that drives a cabaret show. Moreover, this queer energy and critical knowledge is the backbone of The Cabaret Commons Critical Project; we seek it in our theoretical frameworks, we recognize it our creative methodologies.

We find it in what Jill Dolan refers to as feminist spectatorship and critical generosity. That is, a “strategy for dialogue, not just between the critic and the artist but also hopefully among a community of spectators and writers and arts makers who see themselves as part of a larger project of world making in which every production, every piece of art, matters” (Dolan, 2013).

We also find it in the impulse that Eve Sedgwick refers to as reparative reading. “Like Proust, the reparative reader ‘helps himself again and again’; it is not only important, but possible to find ways of attending to such reparative motives and positionalities” (Sedgwick, 2003). Therefore, reparative reading means developing a critical practice from which we can learn “the many ways selves and communities succeed in extracting sustenance from the objects of a culture - even of a culture whose avowed desire has often been not to sustain them” (Sedgwick, 2003).

Furthermore, we find it in the empathetic engagement Irit Rogoff has called criticality. This means recognizing that in being critical, we find ourselves in a “double occupation in which we are both fully armed with the knowledges of critique, able to analyse and unveil while at the same time sharing and living out the very conditions which we are able to see through” (Rogoff, 2003). Through practicing criticality, she explains, “[w]e live out a duality that requires at the same time both an analytical mode and a demand to produce new subjectivities that acknowledge that we are what Hannah Arendt has termed ‘fellow sufferers’ of the very conditions we are critically examining” (Rogoff, 2003).

Making the show happen is critical. Creating, performing, and showing up are critical. The dialogue is portable, it is happening as we perform, as we watch, think, write. Understanding what does not work, engaging with mistakes, having a feminist spectatorship, practicing critical generosity, reparative reading and criticality is what we are here for. A critical relationship with cabaret is a socially, politically, sexually, culturally, physically transformative and transforming practice.

Traducción/translation: Islandia


ISLANDIA

Islandia (Carina Emilia Guzmán) es doctora por la Faculta de Información y el Centro Bonham para Estudios Sobre Diversidad Sexual de la Universidad de Toronto. Es licenciada en Historia y maestra en Geografía por la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM). Islandia (Carina Emilia Guzmán) is a Doctoral Candidate at the University of Toronto Faculty of Information and The Bonham Centre for Sexual Diversity Studies. She has a licenciatura in History and maestría in Geography from the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM).