"As long as theater limits itself to intimate scenes from the lives of a few puppets," Antonin Artaud wrote in 1933, "it is no wonder the elite abandon it and the great public looks to movies, the music hall, or the circus for violent satisfactions." Often discussed and seldom read, Artaud was a theater artist, critic, and freaky piece of work. Even Susan Sontag decided, after 56 pages of dithering in "Approaching Artaud," that the man was "unreadable." Still, he has devotees, a shadow army lying in wait to give monstrous birth to his "Theater of Cruelty." Last week was their first assault.
Act One exploded in a rehearsal for The Devil and Daniel Webster at Seattle Children's Theatre, where, according to a witness, actor Richard Ziman and another thespian fought violently over a question of blocking. Cast members separated the combatants before they could fully inflict their ideas on one another. Perhaps Ziman's daring vision burned too brightly for the theater's dim eyes. According to SCT, he was fired. He could not be reached for comment.
Artaud also proposed that, "a little real blood will be needed, right away," to manifest his cruel theater of excess. Act Two erupted at the 5th Avenue Theatre's production of The Wedding Singer. An agent identified in the police report as "Marek" (Czech for Mark) drew, and shed, a little "real blood" in the lobby, consecrating the vulgar space, now a sacred stage. Marek, a radical Artaudian critic, talked loudly during the show and tried to embrace fellow audience members. Theater employees told him to leave. He wouldn't budge. Police officers told him to leave. According to their report, he "stowed his [62 ounce] jar of beer in his backpack," staggered into the lobby, and began to scrap with the cops. During the tussle, Marek reached into his pocket and slipped on his brass knuckles. He "punched Officer [name withheld] in the face with the brass knuckles, causing two deep cuts on Officer [name withheld]'s right brow." (Those cuts required stitches.) More police arrived and, according to a 5th Avenue usher, knocked Marek repeatedly over the head with a flashlight until she "saw a pool of blood coming from the man's head and forming a pool of blood on the carpet." Marek kept struggling, threatened to kill police and theater workers (ever the critic!), and was eventually booked into King County Jail.
Were Ziman and Marek rude, violent imbeciles? Perhaps. But they have a theater of spectacle and pain to enact and no time for pretentious civility or elitism. "It is idiotic to reproach the masses for having no sense of the sublime," Artaud wrote. "If a contemporary public does not understand Oedipus Rex, I shall make bold to say that it is the fault of Oedipus Rex and not the public." Here, here! The Artaudian Army inspires me. Nietzsche called us to philosophize with a hammer. And I shall criticize with brass knuckles.
