I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the nature of art, where magic fits into that, and what kind of statements are being made in the modern zeitgeist. And yes, I did type all of that while sipping a cognac, stroking my goatee, and wearing a mortarboard.
I've been thinking about kids lately. I don't often perform for kids because I think a lot of the things I try to do might not be the sort of thing they'd be into. Seance theater? Too heady and requires a patience most young children haven't had time to really develop. Mind reading? You generally don't do mentalism for kids for the same reason that you don't do it on the streets. Genre deconstruction through parody and satire? Without meaning to sound like an elitist, most kids don't take enough in to be able to appreciate that sort of thing.
But then I started thinking about this a little more. And I got to looking at things I like and saw some patterns emerging.
I suppose it started when I read a column on Cracked dot com (no link because the language is a bit strong for a family-friendly website) by Michael Swaim in which he described 10 video games that should be classified as modern art. I smiled as I remembered playing some of the titles myself. The Oddworld games, the Fallout series, Psychonauts... I was a little surprised to see that the first on the list was Katamari Damacy. He described it as follows:
The first thing I looked through was my trade paperbacks of PS238. For those unfamiliar, the title is a comic book series by Aaron Williams about the world's first public school for the children of superheroes. The focal character is Tyler Marlocke, the son of two of the world's most powerful heroes who himself possesses no superpowers whatsoever. His parents enrolled him anyway, convinced he had some grand cosmic destiny to fulfill. Later on he makes friends with Julie Finster who is the 84th metahuman documented with the flight, invulnerability, strength, and speed powerset. The two of them both share identity crises. Tyler has no powers but must survive in an environment full of children who could flatten a building. Julie has powers but she's seen as nothing special and redundant.
The series is family-oriented and is unique in that it is able to talk to children about complex issues such as identity, wisdom, bravery, ingenuity, self-respect and the desire to do the right thing without ever insulting their intelligence. It shows instead of tells. Above all it proves that children can understand and digest complex material without having to be led by the hand. Williams trusts the reader's imagination to fill in the gaps, he gives his readers the benefit of believing enough in their intelligence to be able to connect the dots, pick up the meanings and infer without being beaten about the head with hamfisted explanations and exposition.
After that, I looked at some of my Pixar DVDs. I started to pick up that Pixar has done something that Disney all but abandoned by the time I hit my teenage years. You notice that most of their movies are about male leads and the stories have very male themes. These are cartoons for guys. And in many ways they try to make the perspective of the older generations more accessible to younger viewers. A Bug's Life is The Magnificent Seven as told from the perspective of the guy who's got a lot to give but doesn't know how. The Incredibles has a lot of father/son subtext. Toy Story is the inevitability of growing up and the conflicting messages from different influences that come with it.
Next I found my old Calvin & Hobbes books. I reread them once a year and find something new every time. When I first started reading the series I was about... 12 I think. I was enthralled. It was the one newspaper comic I never passed over. Ever. As a kid I remember identifying a lot with Calvin, though in hindsight that said some less than flattering things about me as a child. As I got older I started to see new ways of reading it and came to appreciate the depth of the comics in a way I never had anything else prior. Bill Waterson tapped into the mind of youthful imagination, ambition, selfishness, alienation, and impatience. Very powerful stuff.
I went to my video games and this will naturally lead to me once again raising Psychonauts up on a pedestal. I was struck by the fact that this is a game that kids will be attracted to because of the comic book-y aesthetic, but at the same time it deals with some truly weird and even sometimes dark themes. And this is all told from the perspective of a 10-year-old boy with enough enthusiasm and zeal to power the Vegas strip, but also possesses a certain classiness and charm when interacting with his fellow campers that makes him more than just another excitable little boy.
I've been thinking about kids lately. I don't often perform for kids because I think a lot of the things I try to do might not be the sort of thing they'd be into. Seance theater? Too heady and requires a patience most young children haven't had time to really develop. Mind reading? You generally don't do mentalism for kids for the same reason that you don't do it on the streets. Genre deconstruction through parody and satire? Without meaning to sound like an elitist, most kids don't take enough in to be able to appreciate that sort of thing.
But then I started thinking about this a little more. And I got to looking at things I like and saw some patterns emerging.
I suppose it started when I read a column on Cracked dot com (no link because the language is a bit strong for a family-friendly website) by Michael Swaim in which he described 10 video games that should be classified as modern art. I smiled as I remembered playing some of the titles myself. The Oddworld games, the Fallout series, Psychonauts... I was a little surprised to see that the first on the list was Katamari Damacy. He described it as follows:
That sentence really caught my eye. It got me thinking, and I started to look a little deeper into my vast (and nerdy) collection of media to see what I could find to expand on those renegade thoughts bouncing around in my head. I came up with some very peculiar examples and that led my already badly confused brain down even more different paths.
The first thing I looked through was my trade paperbacks of PS238. For those unfamiliar, the title is a comic book series by Aaron Williams about the world's first public school for the children of superheroes. The focal character is Tyler Marlocke, the son of two of the world's most powerful heroes who himself possesses no superpowers whatsoever. His parents enrolled him anyway, convinced he had some grand cosmic destiny to fulfill. Later on he makes friends with Julie Finster who is the 84th metahuman documented with the flight, invulnerability, strength, and speed powerset. The two of them both share identity crises. Tyler has no powers but must survive in an environment full of children who could flatten a building. Julie has powers but she's seen as nothing special and redundant.
The series is family-oriented and is unique in that it is able to talk to children about complex issues such as identity, wisdom, bravery, ingenuity, self-respect and the desire to do the right thing without ever insulting their intelligence. It shows instead of tells. Above all it proves that children can understand and digest complex material without having to be led by the hand. Williams trusts the reader's imagination to fill in the gaps, he gives his readers the benefit of believing enough in their intelligence to be able to connect the dots, pick up the meanings and infer without being beaten about the head with hamfisted explanations and exposition.
After that, I looked at some of my Pixar DVDs. I started to pick up that Pixar has done something that Disney all but abandoned by the time I hit my teenage years. You notice that most of their movies are about male leads and the stories have very male themes. These are cartoons for guys. And in many ways they try to make the perspective of the older generations more accessible to younger viewers. A Bug's Life is The Magnificent Seven as told from the perspective of the guy who's got a lot to give but doesn't know how. The Incredibles has a lot of father/son subtext. Toy Story is the inevitability of growing up and the conflicting messages from different influences that come with it.
Next I found my old Calvin & Hobbes books. I reread them once a year and find something new every time. When I first started reading the series I was about... 12 I think. I was enthralled. It was the one newspaper comic I never passed over. Ever. As a kid I remember identifying a lot with Calvin, though in hindsight that said some less than flattering things about me as a child. As I got older I started to see new ways of reading it and came to appreciate the depth of the comics in a way I never had anything else prior. Bill Waterson tapped into the mind of youthful imagination, ambition, selfishness, alienation, and impatience. Very powerful stuff.
I went to my video games and this will naturally lead to me once again raising Psychonauts up on a pedestal. I was struck by the fact that this is a game that kids will be attracted to because of the comic book-y aesthetic, but at the same time it deals with some truly weird and even sometimes dark themes. And this is all told from the perspective of a 10-year-old boy with enough enthusiasm and zeal to power the Vegas strip, but also possesses a certain classiness and charm when interacting with his fellow campers that makes him more than just another excitable little boy.
