In September 2007, my piece Removable Parts premiered at HERE Arts Center in New York City.
(A brief synopsis: Removable Parts is an hour-long music-theater piece that utilizes the real-life phenomenon of self-amputation as a metaphor for the desire to escape physical, emotional, and psychological pain.)
The reason I mention it here is to talk about something that happened in one of the post-performance discussions with the audience. Two people in particular, including a well-known expert on disability, took issue with what they called a “lack of authenticity” in the piece. They suggested that the two performers on stage (me and pianist Kathleen Supové) did not have the experience necessary to fully understand, or fully appreciate, the issues that disabled people have to face.
Putting aside for the moment the fact that none of the characters in Removable Parts are actually supposed to be disabled, what really upset me about these comments was the implication that empathy is not enough. It didn’t seem to matter how much reading I had done, how many people I had interviewed, or even how many people in my life happened to be disabled. Only first-hand experience of disability would give me the right to explore the subject in my music.
Doesn’t this kind of academic cordoning-off of “other-ness” discourage people from exploring things beyond their own life-experiences? Apparently, the noblest quality for an artist to possess is an utter lack of curiosity.
This is really not a problem “of academic cordoning-off of ‘other-ness.'” It’s is not an “academic” opinion. Many, many, many people outside of Academia believe that one cannot understand a particular point of view unless one has lived through it. For example, many racial minorities, religious minorities, females, disabled, homosexual, etc believe that one cannot understand their experiences until others “walk a mile in my shoes.” I fall under several of those categories and I also believe that there are times when the subtle pervasiveness of bigotry, prejudice and stereotypes would not be recognized unless one lived my experience.
Corey replies: One of the mysteries of consciousness is that we can never completely understand anyone’s consciousness but our own. Some “academics” use that problem as a justification for discouraging people from trying to be empathetic by criticizing any attempt at empathy as “not good enough.” That kind of mindset seems almost 100% solipsistic. And that’s what makes it academic to me.
While I don’t agree with the disability expert’s comments, I’m not particularly surprised by them. There seems to be a perception out in much of the general public that artists can only legitimately write about what they “know”. To try to write about something other than you direct personal experience is seen as fraudulent and inauthentic somehow. I suspect this view has grown out of some of the excesses of identity politics in the 80’s and 90’s.
Obviously, to anyone who has spent anytime at a creative endeavor, it’s a load of bull. I remember clearly the epiphany of a singer/songwriter friend when he realized he didn’t have to write songs about his own love life, or even his own life, exclusively. He then went through a whole phase where he was writing songs from women’s points of view and then took songs written by women and sang them from a man’s point of view. It got a little uncomfortable at times to listen to and perhaps wasn’t always successful, but it was interesting to watch. (Think about Sarah McLaughlin’s Possession sung by a man – it takes on a slightly different meaning.)
As a composer myself, I can think of a half dozen of my pieces that would be deemed out of bounds by the rules laid out by the audience above. And the history of music, theater, writing, art, etc etc, would be immensely less rich and more narrow if all artists had followed the same “rules”.
Ultimately as artists, we have to make the case to our audience that even though we haven’t cut our arm off or shot a man in Reno just to see him die or even just had our heart broken 10 times by Sallie May, the bartender, we can still create art about it that has something to say to people. There will be some who will never be convinced and to them we just have to say, “thanks for coming out to see the show/reading the book/seeing the play/etc. Sorry you didn’t like it. Better luck next time.” Then get back to doing what we do.
Corey replies: Very nicely put, Peter. And you bring up an irony that I hadn’t thought about before: If only the expert on disability could fully empathize with the creative artists, she might not have been so quick to judge.
I have empathy, myself, for you and your experience here. But I think the answer is fairly simple: the well-known expert on disability was, sadly, wrong.
I’m sure she was wrong for all the right reasons (actually, I think she probably wasn’t, but I’m trying to empathize). And Right or Wrong questions are rare in art. But this is one of them. She got it wrong.
I think there is a great sensitivity to disabilities, whether it is physical or mental. Not everyone is perfect — and that makes great art. Good for you for tackling such a subject. Isn’t that what art is? Exploring ALL aspects of life. This morning I was asking myself what is art? Is it important because someone with a ton of money says it is? Or because someone invests their heart and soul into something they truly believe in — whether is performance art, paintings, sculptures, writings, etc. I am in LA, but I would love to see your piece…. even if on a DVD. You have a new fan! – Sophia
Corey replies: Hi, Sophia. The definition of art is far beyond my ability to articulate! Here’s an interesting podcast about it. You can find a few video excerpts of Removable Parts here. Thanks for commenting!
I suppose BB King should stop claiming to be playing “the blues” until he’s been diagnosed with clinical depression…
Corey replies: Be careful with what you say, Seth.
it’s like saying madeleine l’engle shouldn’t have written a wrinkle in time because she’s never personally experienced a tesseract. how inauthentic of her! or that shakespeare’s macbeth is faulty because dear william will never know what it’s really like to be scottish. authenticity is a red herring. the real disability here is complete lack of imagination.
Corey replies: Hi andrea. Nice to hear from you. To take another angle on it, I wanted to share this quote by Pico Iyer. Forgive me for its sentimentality:
“I may know my partner inside out, her habits and her gestures, and yet the more I see of her, the more I have to acknowledge how much will always lie beyond my reckoning — and in that very space of unknowing, my hunger for a continuing relationship may be quickened.”
Hey, Corey. Maybe another way of dealing with this person’s post concert comment is to reach out to performers who happen to be handicapped for future realizations and/or variations on Removeable Parts and/or a new work altogether?
I think you should be pleased that your work was so provocative. But no one who has commented so far has suggested a future performance with someone who is in fact in a wheelchair, or with MS, etc.
And you can reach out purely as a creative person – not as some reactive PC wimp who’s heart isn’t even in the right place. And let me state I do not personally know any performers with physical handicaps – so I don’t want to come off as pious. I just think it’s just an exciting possibility. It seems clear you have the empathy – so maybe take it to another level?
And as a sidebar, may I present my favorite lesbian handicapped rapper and producer
Corey replies: Chris, that’s an interesting proposal. Of course, it might create a strange dynamic of “differently abled performers” as opposed to “performers who happen to be differently abled.” Maybe I’m just being overly cautious in thinking about it.