Movies

Review: William Kentridge’s ‘The Great Yes’ at the Wallis: A dazzling meditation on a world out of kilter

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The title “The Great Yes, the Great No” is quite captivating. And William Kentridge’s latest chamber opera, debuting in the U.S. at The Wallis in Beverly Hills, truly embodies this title as one of his most awe-inspiring works. The concept, direction, set and costume designs, projections, video, text, music, choreography, and performances by an enormous ensemble of singers, dancers, actors, and a similarly large creative team – all are nothing short of fantastic.

As a movie enthusiast, I must admit that this “Great Yes” is part of Kentridge’s Centre for the Less Good Idea, an innovative workshop in Johannesburg he refers to as an “interdisciplinary incubator.” For Kentridge, clinging too tightly to a brilliant idea might result in being stuck, preventing you from exploring other, potentially fruitful ideas. He often quotes a South African proverb: “If the renowned doctor can’t heal you, seek out the less renowned one.” This lesser-known healer might have more creativity up their sleeve.

In Kentridge’s diverse and multilayered creations, thoughts abound, regardless of their perceived importance – they can range from a simple charcoal drawing to an intricate video, a complex installation, or a spectacular opera production. The grand Kentridge exhibition titled “In Praise of Shadows,” which was held at the Broad museum two years ago, encapsulated history and the contemporary, oppression and fantasy, colonialism and individual strength, humor and sorrow, elation and agony. The Broad resonated with vitality. A previous chamber opera, “The Refusal of Time,” staged at UCLA’s Royce Hall seven years ago, was an intense examination of 19th-century South African colonialism seen through a cosmic lens.

In “The Great Yes,” Kentridge focuses on a worn-out cargo ship named SS Capitaine Paul-Lemerle that journeyed from Marseille to Martinique in 1941, carrying approximately 300 passengers fleeing Vichy France. This motley group included renowned artists, writers, intellectuals, and revolutionaries. The story of this voyage is mostly known to us through the initial chapters of anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss’s seminal work, “Tristes Tropiques.” He portrays the conditions as grueling but the atmosphere as invigorating. During the trip, he formed a friendship with one of the founders of surrealism, André Breton – the novelist and theorist.

Among those aboard were modern Russian poet Victor Serge, who was also a Trotskyite anarchist, Aimé Césaire, a Martinican poet and founder of the anticolonial Négritude movement, Cuban painter Wifredo Lam, influential Marxist psychiatrist Frantz Fanon, and several other intriguing individuals. Kentridge, however, doesn’t limit himself there. He also adds Josephine Bonaparte, Josephine Baker, Trotsky, Lenin, and Stalin to the list of passengers.

As a film enthusiast, I find this journey symbolizes the dismantling of concepts conceived by some of the brilliant minds and artists of their era. The affirmatives and emphatic negations they once stood for no longer carry significance. They are departing, we’re informed, from a place where they won’t be remembered fondly, and venturing towards a destination where they may not find acceptance. Theirs is the destiny of the eternal wanderer. Kentridge equates the captain to Charon, the ferryman in Greek mythology, who transported the deceased across the river Styx into the underworld.

These extraordinary individuals strut, jive, bicker, and express deep affection. Now adrift from their previous constraints, they find themselves in a transitional phase, existing rather than living. As freedom advocates, they have the liberty to be true to themselves. This liberation, however, carries the heavy cost of rejection and sacrifice. Having forfeited everything, they endure squalor, starvation, and illness during their prolonged journey towards an uncertain future.

As I watched for 90 uninterrupted minutes, Kentridge’s captivating characters truly shone. They donned oversized masks depicting themselves and attire that echoed their artwork. The visual backdrop was constantly transforming; one moment it was a drawing, the next an abstract animation, another a black-and-white documentary film. Documentary and fiction seamlessly blended together. Kentridge’s libretto was a compilation of the characters’ own words and various historical references. In essence, I found myself immersed in a unique blend of reality and artistry.

The “Embarkation” initiates with a joyful, seven-voice South African women’s choir singing Zulu verses from Aeschylus, Brecht, and more. They question, in the words of Anna Akhmatova, why is our era more troubling than others?

In my opinion, the movie unfolds with an intriguing premise: “The world is falling apart!” This is the compelling statement delivered flawlessly by Tony Miyambo, who breathes life into the charismatic Captain character. Throughout our journey together, he serves as a friendly, hilarious, captivating, and insightful guide, making our exploration of this thought-provoking film all the more enjoyable.

As you proceed, you’ll encounter a series of distinct sequences, each featuring various genres of theater, music, choreography, and visual artistry, often with new cast members. Despite these differences, they are all metaphorically sailing the same ship, seamlessly transitioning one into another. On-screen, we witness Nazi tanks rolling down the Champs-Élysées, followed swiftly by a world of dancing espresso pots. Text is creatively displayed on the screen in various formats such as roulette-wheel graphics, post-it notes, and banners.

A remarkably adaptable ensemble of four musicians, headed by percussionist Tlale Makhene (accompanied by Nathan Koci on accordion and banjo, Marika Hughes on cello, and Thandi Ntuli on piano), appears to encapsulate the entire spectrum of music. In one moment, they play Schubert; in the next, it’s reminiscent of Satie, and countless moments that shine with South African grandeur.

There’s no end to praising the singing, dancing, and music performances on this dismal journey. It’s astonishing how vibrant they make an otherwise bleak experience feel. Despite their glamorous appearance, Kentridge doesn’t romanticize these exiles. Art and poetry that challenge norms won’t mend the world’s brokenness. Fanon cries out his laughter to the heavens in despair: “Get accustomed to me.” Exile is a void.

The performances were amazing on such a sad trip, yet it was still a sad journey. Kentridge doesn’t make the exiles seem glamorous. Art and poetry that challenge the norm won’t fix the world’s problems. Fanon says he laughs at the stars in despair: “Get used to me.” Exile means emptiness.

The travelers manage to endure a horrific tempest prior to touching down, only to encounter mistreatment afterwards. A chorus member, reminiscent of Milosz’s words (originally in Polish), sings in Zulu, “I have no love for any land, for lands quickly vanish,” with the rumble of thunder in her tone. Later on, she admits, “The world is off balance.” She proclaims resolutely, “We shall restore it to harmony.

Titled “The Great Yes,” this artwork made its debut last summer in Arles, France, was created specifically for the Luma Foundation, an exhibition space designed by Frank Gehry. Now, Kentridge is bringing it to America, eager for fewer affirmative and negative responses. (The Wallis and Cal Performances in Berkeley are both co-commissioners, with the opera set to be shown at The Wallis in March. From my understanding of Kentridge’s message, he cautions us about the illusion that we secure ourselves by expelling immigrants. Not only do nations risk vanishing, but in our swiftly changing post-fact society, it might be reality itself that could soon vanish, leaving us all adrift.)

Ultimately, “The Great Yes, the Great No” showcases the powerful unity of exile, as demonstrated by the captivating and chaotic collective effort that went into its creation. Each member seems to be on the same thrilling, unpredictable wavelength, with a lengthy list of credits to back this up. Nhlanhla Mahlangu serves as both choral director and associate director, while Greta Goiris designs the costumes and Sabine Theunissen creates the set. Each aspect of sound, lighting, and projections is exceptional on its own.

Kentridge’s collective essence transcends the boundaries of Wallis. Last weekend, Kentridge showcased lively works from his Centre for the Less Good Idea at UCLA’s Nimoy, which was then followed by performance artists at the Broad museum presenting their interpretations of these ‘less good ideas’. Notably, the American Cinematheque has announced that it will screen Kentridge’s entire “Drawings for Projection” on February 21 at the Aero Theatre.

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2025-02-09 06:31

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