It’s funny what a photo invokes. A contrail and the sun:
When he was young Beethoven wrote a ballet called The Creatures of Prometheus. It is too big for modern ballet companies to produce and symphonies have a difficult time adding it to their program because – well – it’s a ballet and the music needs something to tie it together. I had the great good fortune to develop a story based on original program notes and perform The Creatures of Prometheus with The Portland Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Yaki Bergman, in 2008.
It is a story of the creation of human beings. It is the story of jealous Zeus forcing the newly created humans to accept him as their god rather than their true creator, Prometheus. Zeus is an irrational bully. The other gods on Olympus go along with his brutality because they, like the humans, fear him. Apollo the sun god, the god of reason and light, despises Zeus and plants the seed of reason in the creatures in the hope that, one day, they would awaken to their true nature, they would recognize the old god Prometheus as their true creator.
At the height of the Black Lives Matter protests Yaki contacted me and asked me to rewrite the script to make it relevant to the events of the day. We were to perform the new piece, entitled The Last of the Old Gods, in the spring of 2023. There was a contract snag delay. Yaki was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and passed before we could perform it. I grieve him. He was a great artist with a big vision and even bigger laughter.
Art is meant to carry the conscience of a community. It is meant to express and explore the values of society. And, since society is mostly blind to itself, It is meant to be a mirror, a mechanism for people to see themselves. Yes, it needs to entertain but entertainment is the warmth that draws the community to the hearth fire. Art is the fire that sustains.
It is enough to say that we are currently living in a time of a false bully who would-be god. He must lie and fearmonger to achieve his desire, just like Zeus in the ballet. In re-reading both of my versions of the script I was struck how they are now more relevant than when I wrote them. The Last of the Old Gods will live in my files. It will, I hope, someday, find its light-of-day.
Here is a segment of text from The Last of the Old Gods, the final bit of story that leads into the musical Finale:
“In an instant, Apollo sent a tiny spark, a thread of sun that wove through the spell of Thalia’s masks, that opened a possibility of release. A chance at remembering. As the creatures circled each other in their dance, one reaching, the other rejecting, like a drowning man, one pressing the other down to elevate itself, Apollo whispered into their souls a possibility, a pathway home.
His thread of sun ignited the seed Prometheus planted.
If someday, they could turn and face their fear, see through the false division, let go of the lust for power and belief in dominance and division, if one day these creatures could take a chance and reach toward the other, it might remember itself. Thalia’s masks would fall. The seesaw game would collapse. And the creatures’ natural iridescence would be restored.
It might, someday, look in the eyes of the other, and remember itself. Whole. Prometheus’ touch would finally reach them. The last old god, Prometheus, and his creation would be free.”
read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SUN AND CONTRAIL
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Filed under: Art, Creativity, Metaphor, Story, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: art, artistry, beethoven, black lives matter, community, conscience, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, entertainment, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, performance, reflection, story, studio melange, the melange, Yaki Bergman | 1 Comment »
The Direction of Intention 
Just Look Around [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]
If you seek levity, if you are in want of a giggle, may I suggest that you follow Kerri and me through the grocery store and politely eavesdrop on our commentary.
I’m aware that for most people grocery shopping is a chore, a routine obligation. For us it evokes our inner stand-up-comic. Grocery stores tickle our whimsy and unleash tsunamis of sarcasm or impromptu songs. There’s so much material to work with!
“Baby Bok Choy is fun to say,” I mention as Kerri scrutinizes the baby bok choy options. Never one to let an alliteration pass her by, she launches into a lyric, a pseudo-rap personifying the virtues and exploits of the leafy green cabbage. The aisle clears as other shoppers find spontaneous public art dangerous.
Later, using her big, outdoor voice, she reads aloud the list of ingredients on a jar, proclaiming, “Trans-fats! Uh-OH! Get ready! Those MAGA Republicans are going to pop-a-gasket over this one!” Reading on she asks the entire world, “Does anybody really know what butylated hydroxyanisole is, anyway! Who would eat this stuff?”
“What does it meant to be butylated?” I ask, using my quiet indoor voice to model appropriate volume control.
“Don’t be a hydroxy-ANISOL,” she says and smiles. And then: “Someone butylated the baby bok choy…” she declares in mock alarm, unaware that the aisle has once again emptied of shoppers.
I push the cart so I regularly discover that I am holding conversations with myself. When she doesn’t respond to my commentary I realize that some odd grocery item two aisles back caught her fancy. I navigate a u-turn and find her standing incredulous before a multi-layered pastel cake. “Did you seeeee this?!” she exclaims.
“No.” I say.
“Oh. My. God!”
“What is it?”
“Have you ever seen anything so hideous?” she looks at me, wide-eyed.
“What is it?”
“The thought of eating this makes my teeth hurt! Doesn’t it make your teeth hurt?”
“What is it?”
“Who would ever think this was a good idea?”
“What is it?”
“And they made it Easter colors so people would buy it? Do you think people actually buy this?”
“What is it?”
“No wonder this nation is in trouble. People will eat anything!”
“Oh, it’s fox news!” I blurt, “In a cake!” A revelation.
She looks at me as if I haven’t been listening, “It’s a cotton-candy-cake!” she says, a new alliteration rising.
“Yeah. That’s what I just said. Fox news.”
“Who eats this stuff,” she asks, wrinkling her face.
“Just look around.” I say. “Sad.”
It makes my teeth hurt.
read Kerri’s blogpost about COTTON CANDY CAKE
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Filed under: Flawed Cartoon Wednesday, Flawed Wednesday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: alliteration, artistry, baby bock choy, commentary, cotton candy cake, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, grocery shopping, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lyrics, poetry, story, studio melange, the melange, whimsy | Leave a comment »