What does Artaud mean when he talks about theater as plague that can only be resolved by death…
Becoming, fatality, chaos… These are Artaud’s main things in the theater of cruelty…
The cruelty-as-necessity is a metaphysical kind of cruelty… it’s not cruelty on the body… it’s the way object exist in the world… this kind of necessity…
Theater without objects or humans (Bauhaus)
Non-psychological object theater… is that all Artaud is trying to create? no. Artaud moves past the law of non-contradiction…
Oh shit. I’m going to throw the desk through the window.
pup. puppet. pup. puppet. pup. puppet.
da da da. Da is Russian for ‘yes.’
Sanitary napkins. Why do we call them sanitary napkins?
sanitary: clean and free from agents that cause disease or infection
napkin: a usually square piece of cloth or tissue paper used at mealtimes to protect cloths and wipe the mouth.
p 40: sudden appearance of a fabricated being that corresponds to nothing… the god inside the machine…
models of montage: (film and theater/art)
– What is the synthesis of montage? (dialectical materialism conceived in Marxist terms is the key to Eisenstien’s model of montage)
– Surrealist montage is a theory of the marvelous, contradictory. The sythesis isn’t political, but aesthetic.
What is a language half-way between gesture and thought?
What does it mean to surpass the lyricism of words… He’s interesting in the ways that languages relate to eachother… He’s looking for a mroe encompassing lyricism… There’s a realtionsihp between liguistic lanugages, object-languages, and gestural languages… etc.
The theater is not to be pre-determined by signs.
Part of what’s at stake for Artaud is the question of the exotic.
The central position of the theater is till intact in the theater of cruelty… there’s not a destruction of theater… breaking down the barriers between life/art yadda yadda…
The set is non-existant… because the objects are always in flux.. there is no set point of veiw…
Hacking up people on stage…That’s just great.
I need a cigarette. Bad. Really bad. Last night, I felt a pain in my right lung. I wonder if that’s cancer. Alex told me to go to bed. But I couldn’t sleep. It was sharp. Right under the rib cage. To be honest, I don’t really know if the lung was hurting, maybe it was just gas or something… but I imagined it was the lung for a long time. Alex was half asleep and I said ‘I’m going to die very young.’ He told me that I would if that’s what I thought I would do. He’s such a dick sometimes.
Bringing the background into the foreground. (Elizabethian theater with no text/words).