Julie
Taymor, Playing with Fire: Theater, Opera, Film
Julie
Taymor, Playing with Fire: Theater, Opera, Film. By Eileen Blumenthal and Julie
Taymor. New York:
Harry N. Abrams, 1995; 208 pp.
Julie Taymor's work is highly visual, lush even, saturated
with color, pulsing with rhythmic movement. This large-format book shows Taymor
as a visual theatre artist. Fifteen performances, from Way of Snow
(1974) through Titus Andronicus (1994), are presented in photographs,
drawings--often enough Taymor's working sketches--and brief processual and
descriptive texts in which Taymor explains the why and how of each work. Preceding
this chronological march through Taymor's oeuvre is a 46-page biographical and
analytic essay by Eileen Blumenthal. What the material reveals is the
consistency of Taymor's vision. Some artists, like Picasso, change their styles
and modes of presentation radically as they move through life; others, like Richard
Foreman, remain very fixed. Taymor falls between these extremes. She varies her
texts, media, and place in the production hierarchy--sometimes working as
director-designer-adapter, sometimes just being in charge of the visuals, and
often serving as both director and designer. She constructs her puppets, masks,
and performing objects. But for all the changes, her basic style remains
recognizably her own throughout.
Blumenthal points out that Taymor's work:
is not so much eclectic as it is
cross-bred. She draws on an enormous pool of forms, genres, traditions. [...]
Usually she assimilates disparate elements rather than leaving them in native
dress. Only historians of European theater might notice how closely the stage
arrangement in Taymor's design for a Passover Haggadah pageant resembles
that of medieval Christian Passion plays. Only viewers familiar with Chinese
theater [End Page 52] would be
likely to realize that the show's Red Sea of billowing cloth derives from a
Peking Opera convention. Taymor's Juan Darién incorporates techniques
from Japan, Indonesia, Czechoslovakia, and Western fairgrounds [...]. (7-8)
Taymor is a theatre artist who emerges from a rigorous
academic and adventurous intercultural background. As a teenager she trained in
mime with Jacques Lecoq; as a college student at Oberlin she joined Herbert
Blau's experimental group, Kraken. I saw Kraken perform The Donner Party
at the Performing Garage in the early 1970s. Taymor played various roles, human
and animal, with a great physical intensity drawing fully on her mime training.
But Blau's work was not only artistic. He demanded from his actors intellectual
commitment. Taymor was well-prepared for her experiences in Indonesia later in
the 1970s. Half a world away from the USA she learned first-hand how to form a
theatre company; she experimented deeply with masks and puppets.
Because of her great gifts as a costume designer and mask
and puppet maker, Taymor found herself slotted as a "visual artist"
in the theatre. But her ambitions were much broader. As success in one area
opened up opportunities in others, Taymor was able to direct more often and to
work across genres in theatre, television, opera, and film. Blumenthal's
introduction follows Taymor's progression. There is not much deep analysis or
attempt to locate Taymor within the whole spectrum of modern American theatre. Taymor's
enormous success in The Lion King takes place a few years after this
book was published. But the seeds of that success are well noted. Taymor's own writing
in the book sticks fairly close to the various grounds she stands
on--narratively, theatrically, technically. Taymor is not given to theorizing
or comparing herself to others. To some degree Taymor is unique. Peter Schumann
has kept strictly to his origins in the counter-culture. The Muppets are
popular puppetry par excellence. Taymor has emerged from the avantgarde into
the mainstream. What this excellent book shows most clearly is how Taymor has
happily realized her ambition to be a director: the person who conceives and
executes what happens on stage, whatever the medium.