The Art of Occupy: A Mini Blog Salon with Jessica Holt by / Guest Author

Welcome to The Art of Occupy, a mini blog salon continuing this week. Today, two invited Bay Area guest authors discuss aspects of the art of the Occupy Movement. These authors then begin a dialogue about their ideas, which readers can continue and develop. What compels you about the Art of Occupy?

Right now, there is a lot of talk about the Occupy Movement's varied and vibrant works of art, in all media – and how these artworks have reactivated fierce debates about the possible intersections of art and political action. Today's guest authors are director, teaching artist, and artistic director Jessica Holt and poet, playwright, and arts blogger Marisela Orta. Their blog pieces jointly address the resurgence of the human microphone, and the relationships between artistic expression and political parties and monuments.

Guest Author: JESSICA HOLT

Title: THE NATIONAL STAGE

Some friends and I recently completed a cross-country trek that culminated, in a way, in our nation's capital. We hadn't planned it that way, but after a 21-day journey across the national landscape, it seemed fitting to end up in D.C. gawking at the national monuments, the unifying symbols that connected all of the disparate states we had passed through. After some obligatory photos at the White House, we passed an Occupy encampment just a stone's throw from Obama's home. More interesting to me, though, was the camp's placement right in front of the National Theatre. Printed on the largest tent's roof: "We the People, Occupy the World." I was struck by the juxtaposition of the Occupy tents next to the nation's oldest touring house, and it made me think about the question of where theatre happens.

Actors. Audience. Space. Theatre and performance scholars suggest these are the three essential ingredients needed to make theatre, broadly defined, happen. The story emerges from the interplay between the three. Composer John Cage suggested that if you want to see theatre, sit on a park bench and put a frame around what you see. Your intention makes it art. With these ideas in mind, we can understand the Occupy movement as both a social-political protest and a national political performance gripping our collective attention: an audience of virtual spectators tune in globally via YouTube, Facebook and live stream to watch the actors—citizen protestors and police—engage in a brutal conflict over the democratic right of the citizens to peaceful assembly in public space. Dramas of Greek proportions are unfolding in public squares across the nation.

On December 2, Occupy Wall Street descended on Broadway for a 24-hour occupation replete with speeches and performances by groups like Bread & Puppet, The Living Theatre and The Civilians, and artists like Reverend Billy, Mike Daisey and Adam Rapp. The move to New York's theatre district was an act of creative resistance where the people could "take back the stage" and the public spaces that belong to them. In his welcome address, political activist Benjamin Shepard said, "Welcome police, occupiers, and fellow New Yorkers. You are all part of a show. Instead of sitting on the sidelines, regular people around the world are tearing up the seats and rushing the stage. And no one can tell the difference between spectators and participants. We are all the show -- you, me, us, now." (Watch the video here; Shepard's speech comes at 2:24.)

This theme also played out on another recent New York night when composer Philip Glass made an Occupy Wall Street appearance outside the Metropolitan Opera, after the closing night performance of his 1979 social protest opera Satyagraha. As the opera ended and audience members filtered out, a group of Occupiers had assembled at the base of the Lincoln Center steps in anticipation of Glass's talk. Police were directing audience members to avoid the main steps and take the side exits. Protesters encouraged them to disregard the police, walk down the steps, and listen to Glass speak. One protestor exhorted them: "What would Gandhi do? It's a real life play. The play is your life. The opera is your life. Your life is the opera. Satyagraha! Satyagraha!" Slowly and then in increasing numbers, the audience members streamed down the blocked stairs to support a new moment of "satyagraha" or "truth-force." The lines between art and life now blurry, Philip Glass recited the last lines of his opera with the help of the now-mightier human mic: "When righteousness withers away and evil rules the land, we come into being, age after age, and take visible shape, and move, a man among men, for the protection of good, thrusting back evil and setting virtue on her seat again." (Watch video here; Glass's speech is at 3:00.)

With a simple shift of frame, these spectators became actors, part of an ensemble of thousands: creative resisters on the national stage, in a national theatre show touring across this great land. Welcome to the show.

To read the companion piece in this salon, click here.

Jessica Holt is a Bay Area director, teaching artist and the Artistic Director of the annual Bay One Acts Festival. She sees theatre everywhere she goes, literally. Contact her at jessicadirect@gmail.com

The views represented in this Chatterbox Art & Opinion post are those of the individual author, and do not necessarily represent the views of Theatre Bay Area or its staff.