Sun God Stuff from the past

Stories of the Sun God

“Stories of the Sun God” is a narrative that follows a powerful and immortal Sun God on a heedless quest for knowledge through a mythical empire in which secrets are the currency of power. Indeed, the keeping of secrets is of great importance to the characters in this dark fable.

The tales begin with 7 Golden Birds who share a secret, the keeping of which brings death to them, to other Birds, like the Red Bird, and even to a studious Princess. This Princess and the Sun God become lovers, a jilted poet hatches a plot that will eventually unravel the most elusive of the secrets and the Birds of Prey cause all manner of trouble before they are disbanded. No human, no magical bird is untouched by the influence of the brilliant but sadistic ruler for whom there can never be accountability. The narrative draws from ideas as old as Rome and is a meditation on the nature of power and the importance of information in any age.

The story calls for movement to bring it to life. My original vision of it was that of a feature film; something that may yet happen. However, I gave the script to my friend Michael Chang, who is a painter, and the paintings he made in response to the work have forced me to re-think that vision. What I am working on is something with a minimal cast of 4 dancer/ actors playing all of the parts, a strong theatrical element that includes some dialogue, and an emphasis on integrating the paintings. To facilitate a conceit in the script, I will use a sculptural “wheel” on which dancers and stand and move; giving the effect of a music-box dancer. The conceit is that there is a bird who is such a good imposter that she can “become” anyone or anything. The work will run as a series of vignettes, some set to classical music and other parts set to the music of Brookyn-based musician J. Greco. The script is inherently violent, but most of the death (many of the characters die) will occur off-stage.

Michael and I have been working separately on paintings and choreography, some of which has been posted to his web-site:

http://www.michaelchang.dk/17_projects/storiesofthesungod.html

New Artist's Statement

My last artist’s statement was really long and boring. I’ll try to do better this time.

I used to seek revenge but now I feel peace in my heart and want to use my art for good. Really.

I will never give up philosophy, no matter how close scientists get to determining that my existence, personality and purpose are written in my DNA. Genetic code is the new fate. However, I have to believe in free will. I won’t put down my existentialist tomes, no matter how canny those evolutionary psychologists may seem. Is evolutionary psychology really a serious area of inquiry? Philosophy is rooted in the hard sciences; ancient peoples took it upon themselves to question the very nature of things.

I may not believe in fate or worship Fortuna, but I do believe there is a lot of be learned from the Romans. I so love the Republic that it took me years to finally research the Empire. And my favorite emperor is Julian. I dealt with Constantine by making a ballet about him, inspired by Sartre’s use of Constantine in an example. The premise is that we are all responsible for the end result of our actions, even if we can not predict what that ultimate end might be. I’m not sure I agree with this, but it was a good place to start a dance that addressed the conversion to Christianity and the founding of Byzantium.

I am accustomed to being uncomfortable and I really like it. I am disingenuous; I choose discomfort because it keeps me honest, because doing so seems like a more difficult choice and if I think something is going to be almost really difficult, that is usually what I want to do. Where do all of these stressful choices lead me? I crave structure. Not to mention vodka and potato chips. I really like to impose order wherever possible and embrace any ritual I can find. For example, when I was at my least comfortable (in Korea) I started ballet classes and this made me brave. I didn’t need written or spoken language, I had dance.

Choreography

I continue to dance and choreograph and work toward making performances that are theatrical and sometimes involve technology or collaborations with artists who work in other media. As a choreographer I feel no sense of boundary. Nothing is sacred, so to speak. I started in ballet but I will steal with impunity from almost any form of movement. It’s good to study, it’s good to know which rules you are breaking, but it is important that we keep moving this art form forward by doing as al other art forms do and drawing from all available influences. Globalization is upon us. Abstraction is a great thing as long as it takes us somewhere. Content is crucial. There are stories to be told, systems of thinking to be understood, emotions to be expanded upon. Because these things are of humanity, they can be made physical.

Video

When I decided to pursue kinetic media I had a goal in mind. I would make dance more accessible to people who are accustomed to watching things on a screen. What I had not anticipated was how easily video would bring me to the dark soul of content that I sometimes felt was difficult to convey through either movement or still images. I am influenced by the work of Nam June Paik and Zbigniew Rybczynski, as well as a childhood of watching early music videos. And while I have not succeeded in making dance more accessible to the uninitiated, I have been finding new ways to use movement in my kinetic media pieces to explicate content.

Photography

My forays into photography these days are few and far between, as I have been focusing on kinetic media. What I have consistently returned to as a photographer has been the portrait, and very frequently, the self-portrait. I am interested in compelling subjects (apart from myself) and I’m even more interested in the compelling subject in a dramatic costume placed in an unusual landscape. Having begun my work in the visual arts as a photographer, I often mine my vast body of work for images to use in my videos.

More photos from New Hampshire, winter 2008

New Hampshire

New Hampshire

New Hampshire Ally

Not very Anthropological Stills

North Korea

I’ve been to my first pariah state. A communist country. Have you?

The trip was really quite surreal. It was also mostly outdoors. Luckily it was above 0 all day, and actually not that uncomfortable. I did wear many layers in preparation. But I was also quite ill, and have yet to fully recover from the flu that had started making my life miserable a few days before the journey.

The soldiers at the border were not unfriendly, but they seemed tense.
Not as tense as the poor souls who had to stand guard at every single lane or road that we passed on the main road into North Korea. I can only hope they relaxed their posture once we were out of sight. There was terrible deforestation of the mountains when we first crossed. Past a large industrial complex that is being built, villages of traditional-looking houses were surrounded by stepped land formations that looked like they were already plowed for planting. They were not organised into plots, just cut into rows of dark soil in every spare meter without a building on it. Without weeds or vegetation of any sort, the landscape had an eerie, surreal feeling, like a faded Cezanne. There were people out and about, but no food vendors like we have here and no cars apart from our caravan of tourist busses. Some of the cheery citizenry rode bicycles. Especially once we got into the "town", which we passed on our way to our 1st tourist destination. There, Asian houses and plots of land gave way to more socialist-looking structures - complete with Soviet-influenced illustrations on the gateways to the guarded housing complexes. Oh, and the Elder Kim (still the president in spite of his death) smiling, the text on his portraits admonishing; "lift your hands to your leader".

It's worth noting that we were not allowed to take photos from the bus, and they were so determined to enforce this rule that each bus has 2 North Korean reps on it during our trip. I would certainly love to have photographed the soldiers guarding the villages, the desolate and architecturally disparate housing complexes, the tree-less mountains. Before my visit, people told me that these villages are empty, and people are “planted” there to give the impression of a happy, prosperous North Korea. If this were indeed a fiction, I hate to think what the rest of the country must be like. I somehow don’t think there would have been such restrictions on photography if this were their advertisement.

So, we passed through town and on to a mountainous area that had normal vegetation, and after traveling uphill for a long while we arrived at Pakyon Falls. Now, it would never have occurred to me to visit a waterfall in the middle of winter, but this was when the trip was planned, in honor of the New Year. That said, I don't think I have ever seen anything quite as amazingly beautiful as a frozen waterfall. This I have photos of (nature was allowed, structures and people not allowed). Above the waterfall, there was a steep path up a mountain which was quite beautiful; rocks, ice, snow and the surrounding mountains, which were steep and jagged and unlike anything I've ever seen. The path was not a difficult one and it was very warm in the higher elevations. At the top there was a temple and a cave, as well as an archaic farmhouse, which I'm guessing was the dwelling of the Buddhist monk who was in charge of the temple. It was very beautiful and I was sad to leave - it doesn't seem likely I'll ever go back there.





Not that I would want to stay!

Heading back into town we passed things like the "department store" which reminded me of a school building from Eastern Europe built in the late 40's. Form following function in a way that even minimalists would find spare; nothing advertised or displayed, the buildings obviously in a state of disrepair. The same was true of the supermarkets, where one could glimpse through the open door and sooty windows the half-empty shelves. We passed the "Hotel", which really looked like an office building in dire need of painting and re-plastering. It did not look as if there were guests – certainly no swimming-pool or cable tv.

My friend Bernell pointed out that the city, dismal as it was, was in better shape than where he's from in Guyana, or places like Detroit or Mexico. Which is true. But Kaesong North Korea looks like hell and they don’t seem to know this. There are no disaffected youths wandering the streets - there is also no litter, no graffiti, no sign of garbage collection nor recycling, no one playing instruments, nor singing. Of course, there is also no traffic, no street-lights, few antennae, limited electricity, but there are a lot of serious-looking soldiers keeping a watchful eye on a smiling, waving citizenry as they go about their business. In Mexico the poverty is worse but the presence of brightly painted houses with garish paintings of the Virgin de Guadalupe, the ever-present street vendors and musicians attest to their freedom. And in Detroit, where more of a police presence might be welcome, the folks wandering the streets would more likely chuck a beer bottle at a bus full of tourists than smile and wave.

Our next stop was lunch at the Unification Restaurant. The rice was good. Of the 13 side-dishes (no one ever told these guys about the number 13?) were some ok, some not very good. The kimchi was dreadful. The soju was far better than any soju we have here. This is likely because in South Korea they have stopped using natural ingredients in soju, which is now pure ethanol. Originally, it was made from potatoes and meant to have a more vodka-like taste. The soju came in to tiniest of brass-ware cups - the whole meal was served in brass-ware by very tense, unsmiling young ladies in hanbok (traditional Korean dress). The exterior of the hotel was Asian in feeling, but the interior was an attempt at European opulence. In addition to the brass-ware, the meal was served with cloth napkins - one very seldom sees these in Asia where you're likely to get a small tissue for a napkin in even fancier restaurants.


After lunch they let us out in the town for a few minutes where we were not allowed to photograph the town, but we could take pictures of North Koreans walking up a long hill toward an enormous statue of General Kim. However, if one wanted to be in a photo with the statue, it was required that one stand with one’s legs together. At attention, as it were.

We were then bussed short distances at a time, visiting historical sites that were similar to but much smaller than the Palaces and Temples in South Korea. There were statues of turtles meant to grant wishes. A tiny bridge with a streak of pink meant to be the blood of some North Korean hero of whom no one in my group had heard. We visited a "museum" which was the campus of a small palace. The "artworks" were placed in the outer buildings, but there was no lighting and no heat. At all. The gift shops sold an odd assortment of things; stamps (not permitted in South Korea) pictures, dolls, books, all manner of honey, ginseng and liquor as well as cough medicine, candy and snack food. My favorite purchase is a guide book for visitors to DPR Korea. It has some illustrations from the 50’s in the front, but most of the pages are blank.

Interestingly, none of the traditional buildings had gargoyles. They look to have been removed – superstition and communist atheism may be incompatible. But they did leave the dragons…

It was 3:30 by the time we got ready to leave NK (we'd arrived around 9a) and I was quite ready to go. As part of our tour we passed the Kaesong Industrial Complex (again) which was comprised of newly paved roads, unfinished buildings and vast tracts of nothing. Since they didn’t stop the bus to allow us off, we were not allowed to take photos. And even though we hadn’t gone to all of the nifty historical sights mentioned in the tourist information packet we were given, since they were all outside and it was getting colder, I didn’t so much mind. It didn’t seem like there would be much to do at night and it seemed likely they wanted us out of there before the sun went down and utter darkness descended over the town.

It was a relief to come back to South Korea, where the change in the landscape was apparent right away. There were weeds, and trash, and light pollution, not to mention tons of traffic. Street food, loud music, crappy soju and rude people pushing and shoving on the crowded subways. Yes, it was good to be home.