
Mary Helen Porter
artist - curator
The Dangerous Pursuit of Empathy
From the cracks in the curtain I saw white paper scattered all across the black floor by performers yelling phrases in Italian, German, English, and French. There were people wandering, somewhat aimlessly, behind and beside two dancers dressed in white. The yelling, mangled dancing, and conversational stringed music, created an atmosphere that mimicked feelings of miscommunication. This was my creation. Between the folds of the curtain I saw a glimpse of the chaotic mess audience members were also witnessing.
The final 2015 Comparative Arts’ show titled, Sins of Hope: Pandora’s Box, featured the year-long projects by the upperclassmen in the Comparative Arts Department at Interlochen Arts Academy, as well as a piece by the entire major and an underclassmen project.
At the beginning of the process I knew our final show would be a collaged mess of precarious art, and not because I had to run around holding hazardous chemicals throughout. Even though I knew what the nature of the show would be as I accepted the title “Artistic Director,” I also know that saying “yes” to any and all artistic opportunities is an essential trait of an interdisciplinary artist. Nicola Conraths, the head of the interdisciplinary department, oversaw the process of putting together this show, but ultimately it was up to me and my Assistant Director, Emily ‘Tink’ Baker, to pull together six individually created projects, an instillation, a documentary, a project directed by a guest artist, and more.
In directing all of these student created and produced projects there was quite a bit of tension when it came to pulling everyone’s concepts and creations together. After months research artists created a thesis that would accumulate into a final project, and one of my tasks was to create an overlaying theme that would tie all the different projects together. We eventually decided on the concept of Pandora’s Box.
Pandora, according to Greek mythology, was the first woman on earth. She was given a jar by the gods with two requirements: do not ask what is in the jar and do not open it. Pandora, being human, curiously opened the jar and released all the evils into the world. Although one item did remain in Pandora’s jar: hope. Now, this sounds a bit like the biblical story of Adam and Eve. This tie between two ancient stories is where the Comparative Arts Department found our common thread. Humans have been trying since the beginning of time to explain or understand misfortune through storytelling, and all the projects included in Sins of Hope: Pandora’s Box dealt with dark topics. From misconceptions to miscommunication to rape, each project made an attempt at commenting on an ‘evil’ present in society through narration.
The stage was filled with people. Too many people moving too much and saying too many different things. The boom lights casted the dancers’ shadows onto the black curtains and made them multiplied and giant. I was lost in my piece's own chaos of words and interactions. At times it seemed everything was slightly off balance, but then one of the dancers was lifted into the air by the other dancer, the music would swell and I heard beautiful words. My piece, Rosetta, seemed to be a representation of how the creative process can work.
Finding the overall theme of the show started the forming of the shows’ hierarchy. The hierarchy was made up of artistic directors that had power over the eight student directors who had power over their performers. Within this power structure there were many miscommunications because of the mass amounts of collaboration and the interdisciplinary nature of the show. On the simplest level, there were miscommunications within the show like tricky transitions and time restricted costume changes that had to be solved like a puzzle, but the highest form of miscommunication was born in the essence of the creative process. Each of the eight student directors had their own vision for their individual project, their brainchild, and at times everyone's’ tunnel vision got in the way of creating a show under a common theme. Emily Folan performed in four different pieces and was constantly juggling diplomacy. Folan is a first year sophomore who had the job of not only performing in the show, but also ‘shadowing’ the upperclassmen. In her observations she saw how the nature of the process made communication murky:
“People were prioritizing in different ways. To one person the show ends with their piece and for a lot of the performers in the show that wasn’t the case...which led to some serious problems when it came to trying to fit the show together.” Folan later said with a smile, “If you have faith in what you're doing or what someone else is doing it will come together, and the strain on you is less because you feel confident.”
Even with miscommunication, the show came together successfully and beautifully because of the whole department’s faith in each other. As the artistic director, I was insanely proud.
Miscommunication is not only present in process, but also in whether the product reaches the audience successfully. The Comparative Arts Department is notorious for creating works that leave audience members wondering what they just saw/heard/felt, and most of the time it takes a conversation with the creator, the reading of an art statement, or just pure acceptance to appreciate the nature of the artistry. Thaddeus Kaszuba, a four year senior theatre major at Interlochen Arts Academy, came to the show without expectations and an open mind (this may have been because his girlfriend was performing in one of the pieces...or maybe he was interested in original, student produced work). :
“With the kind of stuff you guys do we walk out with a lot more questions because it is so interdisciplinary and because we don’t know what to expect going into it and I think that’s what’s also kind of exciting about it...but it can be also very dangerous.”
What the Comparative Arts Department ‘does’ is dangerous because our boundaries and rules are self-made. There is great responsibility that comes with self-made rules seeing as then it is up to the directors to produce work that is relatable and understandable to the audience. That is the challenge of this type of work, but it is also what makes it so exhilarating and worthwhile when a spectator understands your abstract performance about something so non-concrete such as communication.
It wasn’t till after producing this show that I understood the dance between understanding and miscommunication present in collaborative art. My personal project was based on the concept of communication, so it is no surprise that this experience was an enlightening one that made me hyper sensitive to the tension within communication. With this being said, I came to understand that empathy is the only tool humans have to overcome miscommunications. I say this because it is just that, empathy...a whole lot of empathy...that made directing the entire show worthwhile. Being a performer, a student director, and the artistic director really gave me the advantage of understanding how the creative process works on three different levels.
In the last seconds of Rosetta, paper was thrown frantically, violins screeched with determination, and performers dressed in black ran frantically around the finally graceful dancers. This, was the most chaotic, but beautiful part of the piece. Then, all nine performers ended in a harsh line right in front of the audience and stated, “I am humanity.”
Maybe part of being human is miscommunicating and learning how to still dance through the disorder. Maybe the hope that Pandora saved was enough to endure evils. Maybe art is about finding harmony within upheaval.

