COLUMN: Art imitating life imitating art

From Daniel Septimus's, "I Know My Last Name is Septimus," Fall '00 From Daniel Septimus's, "I Know My Last Name is Septimus," Fall '00According to Nietzsche in The Birth of Tragedy, life can only be justified as an aesthetic enterprise. In making life into art, we must be the crafter of our reality and at the same time the work of art itself. In the ultimate act of creation the artist is, "at once subject and object, poet, actor, and audience." It was this characteristic which made the late Andy Kaufman the intriguing and important figure that he was.From Daniel Septimus's, "I Know My Last Name is Septimus," Fall '00According to Nietzsche in The Birth of Tragedy, life can only be justified as an aesthetic enterprise. In making life into art, we must be the crafter of our reality and at the same time the work of art itself. In the ultimate act of creation the artist is, "at once subject and object, poet, actor, and audience." It was this characteristic which made the late Andy Kaufman the intriguing and important figure that he was. Kaufman's life is the subject of the critically acclaimed film Man On the Moon. The movie has furthered Kaufman's name and reputation as a unique and influential comedian. Our generation knows Tony Danza as the housekeeper from Who's The Boss? and Danny Devito as that short fat guy from those Danny Devito movies. Kaufman's every act was aimed at soliciting intense emotional responses, laughter, sadness and hatred. Sometimes it was unclear for whom he was acting. When his hideous alter-ego, Tony Clifton, poured water on a seemingly innocent bystander, the audience was horrified. However, Kaufman and Bob Zmuda -- the innocent bystander who was really Kaufman's writer -- were amused. For whom were they acting? Who were the actors? Who was the audience? There was no clear distinction between "subject and object, poet, actor and audience." With Kaufman, life did not just imitate art, it was art. What should Kaufman's and Nietzsche's message mean for us? How can we aestheticize life? Nietzsche told us that we must attach our life to a myth. But myth is a bad word in universities; it is synonymous with falsity and lies. So what was Nietzsche talking about? Let us start by discussing a myth with which we are all familiar. We would all agree that Quaker basketball is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. And yet, those who experienced the crushing one-point defeat at the hands of Princeton last year know the emotional effect that basketball games can engender. Our emotions tell us that at Penn, basketball games really do matter. Not only do we feel this myth, we take part in it. In the Palestra we are not only the audience, we are actors as well. Our lines are, "Air ball, air ball, air ball, you suck!" and "Let's go Quakers!" The Palestra is a stage. The fans watch the players, the referees watch the players, the players watch the fans, the players watch the refs, etc. More importantly, the myth of Quaker basketball unites us, it serves as the locus for a community. In short, Nietzsche would be proud. So how can we aestheticize life at Penn outside the Palestra? Appreciate subtlety. Appreciate comedy. Appreciate drama. Appreciate beauty. Create myth. We create myth by taking what is irrelevant and essentially meaningless and making it relevant and meaningful. This is the lesson we learn from Penn basketball. When you walk down Locust Walk, filled with multi-colored leaves and young people, tell yourself that it matters that the leaves fall off the trees in winter. Convince yourself that you really do understand what it means to be young. Connect the two so that multi-colored leaves will make you feel young for the rest of your life. Apathy is not only reflected in a lack of social activism and ecological awareness. Apathy creeps into our daily strolls down the Walk. We are apathetic when we lack myth, when we don't have the artistic imagination to link random, meaningless sights and events. Perhaps we do not believe that a beautiful day is a gift from the gods, but maybe if we did, we could appreciate it more. I am not plugging paganism. I am challenging us to internalize the legend of Andy Kaufman, to try and make sense of Nietzsche, to extend the mythic power of Penn basketball to our everyday lives.