The Oberlin Review \\ Staff Box

S T A F F B O X:

Arts are losing their left edge
Impending attacks in Iraq

Arts are losing their left edge: the lack of progressive pieces at Oberlin

In my years at Oberlin, I have heard endless discussion about how Oberlin is losing its progressive edge. Last week's story Has Oberlin lost its left edge? by staff writer Sumi Wong reminded me, once more, that this place will never be able to shake off the legacy of '60s activism. Oberlin will always strive to emulate the climate of that tumultuous era by hyping its own liberalism. But are we all talk and no action?

I'm not speaking in terms of politics, but the debate about whether politics is as vibrant now as it once was is still a hot topic. What about progressivism in the arts on campus?

Oberlin seems to pride itself in pushing the metaphorical envelope in terms of the arts. In my years as an arts reviewer, I've been fortunate to attend more than a dozen plays and musicals, several dance recitals, concerts, operas and readings. And I can count on one hand those which I found truly cutting edge.

Why is this, I wondered, as I walked out of Warner Main after this year's disappointing Fall Forward. I distinctly recall being wowed after the Fall Forward my freshman year. Not to idealize the past, but the whole evening seemed a lot more eclectic, a lot more brave. I still recall a piece called "Jellyfish", which was just so much more daring. It bordered on performance, which does not necessarily make it better, but it was more substantial, more risky. It was not the kind of thing you can learn to create in a class. It's a far cry from the sacrosanct Oberlin phenomenon that is contact improv, which seems to dominate the dance department here.

My favorite part about writing for the Review has always been the opportunity to go see plays. The experience of live theater is unlike any other art. The interaction between the audience and the actors can be wonderful and complex, and drama allows artists to really reach their audience with far more immediacy than, say, poetry. But there are only three dramatic productions I've seen here which have grabbed me by the lapels and shook me. Those are Keely and Du, a play produced my freshman year, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf, which ran last semester, and was revived for Commencement weekend, and last weekend's production of Weldon Rising.

Keely and Du tackled the thorny political question of abortion. But it did so with poise and elegance, not in a whiny self-indulgent manner. There's a difference which can't quite be articulated. Perhaps the strength of that production was in the choice of script. The Theater Department has been less than experimental in their choice of scripts-which would be fine if their productions attempted at all to inject new life into the material. This year's Kindertransport, and to a greater extent last fall's The Children's Hour, were both considerably lacking in that respect.

For Colored Girls... was (number one on my list, in case anyone was wondering) uplifting and beautiful. Its strengths lay naturally in the choice of script, written by Ntozake Shange, which explores the identity of the modern black woman, from all walks of life, and intersperses mythology and history, with contemporary realities. The multi-talented ensemble cast was another joy of the production, since it allowed audiences to see some new faces, rather than the old favorites of Theater and Dance.

Last week's production of Phylis Nagy's Weldon Rising is of course the most timely to discuss. Senior Sara Rooney should be commended for approaching this script. Rumors of its risqu� material were the topic of conversation all last weekend, which is perhaps the single strongest point in defense of my argument. The fact that all we heard about this play was the fact that the actors got naked is very telling. These kinds of things should not be shocking in Oberlin arts. They should not be commonplace, because then strong material can be reduced to simple shock value. However, we are no longer in high school and can more than stomach the experimental at this point in our lives. The number of warnings audiences were given concerning the shocking nature of the material did more harm to the production than anything. I myself sat waiting and wondering just when the clothes would come off-not because the play was lacking in any other way, simply because I had been hit over the head by that fact.

In case you missed the show, the sex scene was graphic, it's true, but the actresses (Lisa Ward and Fedje Tangen-Donelly) should be commended with the poise they displayed. They were brave to take that risk in front of the audience, and it paid off. The sex was not the point of the play, it was the logical if mysterious conclusion to the play. It was perfectly in context and not the simple shock factor which the warnings made it out to be.

If that relatively small production could cause such a stir, imagine what might happen if the Winter Term production of The Cherry Orchard throws in contemporary class critique or sexual politics. Just a suggestion. If Oberlin truly is committed to progressivism, than the arts here should reflect that philosophy. Though last year's boom in installation art in the visual art department suggests that we're still trendsters in some respects, and Oberlin is dragging its feet. Students flock to TIMARA shows and installations because they're often more new and exciting. The classicists, however, maintain the upper hand. That's fine with me; it allows the subversive nature of experimental art to thrive. The traditional, the staid, will always remain in place, but for Oberlin to maintain its progressive slant, we need a healthy dose of the subversive around here.

Rumaan Alam is a College senior and Review arts editor.

Impending attacks in Iraq: the need for an end to U.S. violence

By the time you read this article, United States military may have begun an attack on Iraq. Ground troops, ships and aircraft are surging towards the Persian Gulf. It is a most dramatic reenactment of the Gulf War, a game of epic proportions.

It is, to too many people, a game. It is a political game that involves launching missiles into a already decimated people. It is a game that will surely result in deaths in Iraq, although less than the hundreds of thousands who have died as a result of economic sanctions against that country.

What I ask for is the avoidance of violence at all costs.

As horrid as it is to say, it appears that the United States is quick to forget the pain of war. It is easier to rationalize military action as a response to the danger of Iraq than to question what should be the basis of our politics.

And don't say that this doesn't concern you. For the way our nation acts against Iraq, either peacefully or with violence, shifts the foundation of our human society one way or another. Our lives are as comfortable and secure as they are because our generation has, for the most part, avoided mass violence. We have no draft, as the U.S. did in the 1950s. The U.S. has fewer weapons than it did during the Cold War.

But the export of billions of dollars of weapons and the impending attack on Iraq nullifies the possible long-term effect of this. The tolerance of violence against others (and this relates to the on-going hate crimes debate) and the unwillingness to try our utmost to avoid it in essence admits that our society has room for hate and war between peoples.

From an interview with a Gulf War veteran:

"Q. And what was your most vivid memory, your snapshot memory of that engagement?

A. Just... one ... teenager, basically, one... 17 year old (Iraqi) conscript who was in the truck... who was just sitting there crying. I don't know how badly he was wounded... He... wasn't in the throes of death, but he was just sitting there crying, and he was covered in blood. He was shot or injured somewhere 'cause he thought... he was going to die which... it's pointless doing anyway, all of that stuff; you just want to get away."

My great concern is this: the U.N. Security Council is divided on military action against Iraq, but the U.S. doesn't care what the rest of the Security Council thinks. If it were to disagree with missile attacks, we may very well launch them anyway. International cooperation is being made worthless by the world power.

The Iraqis indicate they welcome an initiative to allow inspections if it includes a plan to lift economic sanctions. That's it. Lift some economic sanctions, and the pressure is eased. Compassion is perhaps the most difficult, but surely the most promising, response to hatred.

In the news: "U.S. officials indicate... strikes against Iraq could be launched at any time. More military firepower will arrive in the Persian Gulf region Friday, including 12 B-52 bombers loaded with air-launched cruise missiles."

The people of Iraq are not to blame for the action of Saddam Hussein. Hussein is a truly evil man, bent of destruction of his enemies. But when I envision the use of violence against Iraq, regardless of the excuse, I do not see the face of Saddam Hussein. I see the face of that 17-year-old conscript. Peaceful answers are vague, but they exist.

I have a strong admiration for the grand experiment that the U.S. is. From the creation of a unique constitution and democracy to a multi-cultural world power, I hold it in awe. But power is not an end in itself, but rather a tool, a tool that we should feel obliged to use for the betterment of mankind. Such grandiose phrases seem to have been lost in the greed and harshness of our attitudes towards one another and towards other nations. I am disillusioned, and I will continue to be so until there is a fundamental change in the nation's philosophy.

"We don't see a point in negotiations," said State Department spokesman James Rubin. There is always a point to negotiation.

Russell Menyhart is a College senior and a news editor.

Staff Box is a column for Review staffers.

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