|Theatre of Death
||[Jul. 1st, 2009|11:38 pm]
I saw an exhibit of the work of Tadeusz Kantor here in Prague about 7 years ago, and it has stayed with me. I picked up a small monograph on him in Krakow. His plays are full of deep suffering, the wound of the war, and existential angst. I find existentialism to be severely honest, yet tiring. The core remains true, of course, but it is deadening to stay tuned in to the nihilism of existence. I fear that I am falling into a void, bathed in the light of a dark star ... we should traffic in joy, not pain, regardless if joy is less true. And yet I find it difficult to make joyful art ... I used to be a romantic, but I've lost that path, and now I see no clear road to follow. But I dont want to end up like Kantor, though he does intrigue, an artist of despair and poverty of the spirit. And really in the end lets face it, I'm a middle class American from the suburbs, my pain is somewhat different than Kantor's. My life has seen much less despair. Simply put one could say that his pain is about the real, while mine is about the loss of the real. But somehow I can relate to his abstraction and symbolic gestures, which is much freer than my laboured, weak output. I find his work to be powerful and I would like to know more about it.
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