My high school English teacher once said that if you want to convince someone to care about a certain thing, defensive argument never does the job. The best way to convince another person that something matters, he said, is to sing an ode to the thing.
That’s how I would best describe “On Behalf of Nature” (notice how it isn’t called “In Defense of Nature”): it is a work that praises the fundamental elements of our existence. By expertly weaving together unique vocalization techniques, fluid dance movements, and instrumental music, Meredith Monk and her ensemble successfully reimagined essential human experiences using their bodies as instruments: capturing emotions like the hypnotic power of fascination, the joy of working together, the frustrations of learning to communicate one’s desires, and the serene beauty of being with a loved one.
Ms. Monk composed all of the music for this 75-minute work, in addition to directing, choreographing, and performing in it. Nothing about the piece was obtrusive or aggressive. It was clearly not meant to force an agenda on its audience. It would’ve been difficult for it to do so even if that were the creator’s intention–no words were ever spoken or sung for the entire 75-minute work. Many moments came across as improvised, because they sounded and seemed as natural as they would have been difficult to coordinate perfectly. Like the natural world, many elements of the piece seemed simple on the surface, but were teeming with complexity underneath. Meredith and her ensemble have worked together for years, which was made evident by the coordination of body and mind that they achieved.
The instrumentation was completely unique. One ensemble member played keyboard, violin, and french horn; another played a variety of woodwind instruments; and the percussionist constantly switched between vibraphone, marimba, and an odd collection of cymbals, sticks, pans, and other objects that helped create shimmering textures. The instrumentalists played off to the right side of the stage, and were boxed in on two sides by the marimba and keyboards, but this setup did not prevent them from taking part in the vocalization and dances that took place onstage. They moved fluidly between their roles as musicians and dancers, sometimes bringing their instruments out to center stage with them. The ensemble was also accompanied by electronic textures that blended incredibly well with the live textures created onstage.
The set was minimal––the stage was bare, save two strips of white cloth flooring material that stretched across upstage and downstage, and the instrumental ensemble setup on the right side of the stage. This would come as no surprise to one who was familiar with Monk’s other pieces––she tends to make minimalist design choices in order to draw the audience’s attention to the music and movement. Because Monk’s goal was to create an art piece that wasted little money or materials, she had her costume designer create the cast’s outfits from their own clothing. Shirts became quilt-like coats, dress shirts became skirts, and the mismatching patterns somehow created a muted, earthy tone overall.
There was constant activity onstage, but it never felt overwhelming. There was always something to look at, but the work did not come across as showy or flashy. It was well-paced, balancing tender scenes with joyful ones, and progressing gradually between the two moods. The piece overall seemed to embody a living organism. It breathed. It sang. It wept. It danced.
The thing I enjoyed most about the work was that the composer in me was constantly wondering where each sound was coming from. One moment, the ensemble would be playing and singing something live, and the next you would discover that they had been seamlessly replaced by a pre-recorded track; the vocal textures often sounded like a synthesizer, or had the warm quality of a woodwind instrument, electronic drone textures crept in unnoticed––it was a delightful experience to be continuously proven wrong about what I assumed was going on underneath everything.
The collage-like arrangement of scenes and music in this piece reminded me of a hand-stitched quilt––every element of the work, while it may have seemed disconnected or strange at first, was lovingly hand-selected and crafted into a beautiful covering of love for the world it portrayed.
After the performance, one of my friends shared with me that within hours of being inaugurated, our nation’s 45th president removed “climate change” from the White House website. It was disorienting for me to receive it at first––Monk succeeded in creating a completely new world, as she said she tries to do with every work, and this world was so pleasingly simple, innocent, and natural-feeling that this information served as a rude awakening. As a recipient of the National Medal of Arts from President Obama, Meredith Monk is a living, breathing example of the impact artists can make in the world. “On Behalf of Nature” invites the audience to experience empathy, which is one of the most powerful forces for peace in existence. That’s why art gives me hope.
