Breath & Shadow
2006 - Vol. 3, Issue 5
"Interview with Lynn Manning: Strive Toward Making that Opportunity"
written by
Kari Pope
Lynn Manning is an award–winning poet, actor, and playwright in Los Angeles. He is also a Paralympic silver medalist and former World Champion of Blind Judo. Recently, Kari Pope sat down to talk with him about his 2005 tour of the United Kingdom with his one–man play, Weights.* (Weights was most recently featured at the Bodies of Work Festival** in Chicago, in April.) Lynn also discussed his success as an artist and athlete and the power of creative endeavors to shape people's lives and make the world a better place.
KARI: What I'm most eager to talk with you about is your tour of the United Kingdom. Was the response to Weights — as a piece of disability theater and culture — any different in the UK than it has been here [in the US]?
LYNN: That aspect of it was very interesting, because I had quite a bit of self–doubt about whether a lot of the play was transferable culturally. But that turned out to be groundless; it was definitely transferable. Extant, the blind theater company that sponsored the tour around the UK, had seen the first production of Weights — at the International Blind and Visually Impaired Theater Festival in Croatia, in 2003. I [was] invited by the host theater company in Zagreb, New Life Theatre of the Blind, to open the 2005 Festival with Weights, and this time I opened it with the musical accompanist I used on the UK tour, Gary Bergman; he's a blind musician who worked with Theater By the Blind in New York. So it was a different production than what Extant had seen at Croatia the first time, and a different production than what was originally put together here in the States with the Taper, Too production. It was a greater representation of blind artists because [Gary Bergman is] blind and I'm blind, as opposed to before, with a sighted musician and a sighted DJ. It was more of a disability culture presentation, I guess! (Laughter) That was an important aspect of the UK tour because Extant is the first blind theater company in the UK. So the issues [from the play] of adventitious blindness (blindness acquired later in life) and coming to accept and learn what that is all about, and coming to terms with people's perceptions of that, transferred just fine.
KARI: My impression of the disability arts and culture "scene" in the UK is that it's very strong.
LYNN: Yes, it is, indeed, and I expected as much because, though [that] was my first time in the UK, I had had contact with athletes from the UK in my travels with the Paralympics and Blind Judo, and I learned a lot about what sort of supportive mechanisms and accessibility adjustments were made with regard to blindness, and disability in general, in the UK and Western Europe.
What surprised me with the tour was the ethnocentric interest, the African interest: being African–American, in terms of the juxtaposed cultures that I people, [from] one moment to the next. There's the black culture and the disability culture, and sometimes I'm pulled between the two. I was surprised, in the UK, to find a very strong black sensibility, a cultural sensibility, and in that, an acceptance and understanding from that point of view.
KARI: That actually answers another question that I had in terms of the transferability. I read some of the reviews of Weights, particularly from the Off–Broadway run, and they said things about "the author's journey from Black man to Blind man."
LYNN: [That aspect] really was [transferable]. We performed the play in different venues, mounting the show for one night, one performance only, in different parts of the country, and then settling into a two–week run at one theater in London. We started off the tour in Brighton, and then went from Brighton to Birmingham, which is a blue–collar working community. We were in a theater venue that is generally Afro–centric, and they usually hosted poetry, spoken word presentations, and performances. The audience at that particular venue, The Drum, was of African origin.
From here in LA, I had had a phone interview with a [radio] DJ [in the UK] promoting that Drum appearance, which was part of a festival of African culture and art. The cultural connection, particularly dealing with the preconceived notions and prejudices and lowered expectations of being Black in America and flipping that with those same lowered expectations of being blind in a sighted world, was quite well received, and I got a lot of requests for autographed programs and all of that there. (Laughter)
It was quite invigorating, a good way to start this tour, and help me get past all questions of cultural limitations. Because there really were none, beyond certain language usage[s.] At one point [in the play] I make a quote about the owner of the bar where I got shot, that if his business could survive without Blacks, then he'd be happier than a linen salesman at a Klan rally. That gets big laughs here in the States, but it just fell like a rock over there, because "clan" means something different [in the UK]. So around the fourth performance, I decided to change it and say, "He'd be happier than a linen salesman at a Ku Klux Klan rally," and then the laughs came. They knew what Klan I was talking about! (Laughter) I had to make a couple of [other, similar] adjustments down the road, but beyond that, communication lines were open.
KARI: Going from Zagreb to the UK — I am curious about the transferability factor in that move. What transferred in the UK that didn't in Croatia?
LYNN: In Croatia there was a running translation for people who didn't speak English. So there was a bit of a whisper, hum, or buzz in the audience while the performance was going on, since they lacked the equipment to do this through a closed–circuit earpiece. It was lip to ear translation in real time, which affected the performance somewhat; I would slow down at times to try to let people catch up with me.
The Croatian audience is more removed culturally from that whole Anglo–Saxon Protestant/African–American thing, but the piece itself seems to be universally accessible. This was the second time that I'd performed Weights in Croatia. It so moved the artistic director and the host theater company that they wanted me to bring it to the largest possible audience this time around, that being the opening night audience. The folks who spoke English firsthand were very, very much appreciative of the piece, including their Minister of Culture there. And certainly a great effort was made to bring people out from the American Embassy and the American school, to have as large an English–speaking audience as possible, and they responded with great enthusiasm, as well.
KARI: You made reference to having traveled as an athlete in the UK and Europe, and so you were familiar with some of the accommodations and accessibility features that were available there. What was your experience actually doing the play? In the UK and in Croatia, did you have the accommodations you needed to perform?
LYNN: Yes. I had gone to the performance spaces and to the alternative spaces [we] performed in, and they were very accessible; the dressing rooms and the pathways to the stage were more easily maneuverable once I was introduced to them. I had with me a stage manager, and a production manager, so they served as sighted guides when necessary. The host/sponsoring theater company [in the UK] was a blind theater company, [so] I think they made sure the people with whom they booked us were aware of the needs of blind and visually impaired performers. So they were very conscientious about the environment being safe and maneuverable.
I found an odd thing in Croatia. When I was asked to participate in an interview on a national television news talk show with the artistic director of New Life, [the theater company that] hosts the [International Blind and Visually Impaired Theater] Festival. I had thought we were going to speak pretty much about the Festival itself; the artistic director is totally blind, and I'm blind, and we were [the ones] in the interview, [but] the host [of the show] asked the artistic director a question about blind actors and how they could seek training. [The director's] answer began with what was a revelation to me: that the blind aren't allowed to attend university in Croatia; they have to go to a special school. They're not allowed to attend a general university where they could pursue, say, theater arts. That was the first thing he said, and he said that the rules needed to be changed to allow for blind or visually impaired performers, those who want to pursue careers in theater, like himself and his twenty–member ensemble, to have access to general education in theater at the collegiate level.
So while I was sitting there with my mouth hanging open (Laughter), I was asked how that compares with what goes on in the United States. And I had to reply that we now have this law, this Americans with Disabilities Act, designed to protect us from that sort of discrimination and to allow us the opportunity to contest that sort of discrimination in the courts. But it also hit me that under certain circumstances, there are disabled people who do get discriminated against in the collegiate arena when they try to venture into theater arts. Because the general population doesn't recognize that we do this sort of thing. And then a lot of the instructors feel like they have to spend too much extra time with a blind or physically disabled person, and they do what they can to discourage participation in [theater]. I didn't get a chance to get all that detailed about it, but I did get a chance to express the fact that we do have some avenues to do battle with that. Now, it was my understanding that the day after I left [Croatia], they did actually have a political demonstration in which several thousand people showed up to demonstrate for greater accessibility to things like the university for blind and visually impaired people.
KARI: In Zagreb, and in the UK, did you meet very many people with other disabilities [than blindness/visual impairments] or not?
LYNN: In the UK, I had the opportunity to meet quite a few folks with a variety of disabilities. When I went to Coventry, we performed in a church, and the performance was part of a disability culture celebration that had been going on for a week, and Weights was the final event. So there were folks of various and sundry disabilities there. And in London, there were several different groups that came [to the performances]: disabled women's organizations and disabled artists' organizations. I got to meet with a great number of those people after the show, you know, post–performance pub greeting! (Laughter)
In Croatia I can't say that I had the opportunity to meet folks of other disabilities than blind and visually impaired, since the whole Festival's focus is [on blind and visually impaired performers], but I don't recall anyone describing [themselves as] or being described as disabled in any other way.
KARI: Specifically about the UK, since that's what I started with: What was the highlight of that trip?
LYNN: It's difficult to isolate one particular thing! Unfortunately, the trip was marred by the fact that through the whole event I was suffering from a newly diagnosed case of severe arthritis in my right hip. That caused me a great deal of pain, so I had to make some adjustments in my performance because of my limited mobility onstage. I also had to limit how much running around I did in the course of the days. I was doing five performances a week, and I didn't have a whole lot of chances to do any sightseeing or traveling around.
The thing that stood out for me as an artist and a performer was the very significant presence of Brits of African descent and the similarity in cultural conflicts that they find themselves in [as members of] their society, and how [those conflicts] parallel [what African–American people face]. I watched BBC chat shows — I got very much interested in the television, because I couldn't get out in the street (Laughter) — and was surprised at the great number of discussions about ethnic conflicts or ethnic discrimination, about the tribulations of people of color in the UK, be they Black, be they Muslim, be they Asian or South Asian or East Indian.
KARI: 2005 was a really busy year for you — not only with the tour and the Blind Theater Festival, but also Blind Justice, [the ABC television series on which you served as a technical advisor], as well as a residency in Pennsylvania.
LYNN: Yes, at the Erie Art Museum, a seven–day residency, where I did workshops in conjunction with a cultural anthropologist and also a curator and a musician. There was a show on display called The Weavings of War, of rug work from places like South Africa and the Middle East and Afghanistan. These were traditional weavings with nontraditional symbology in them [depicting] the submersion of [those cultures] in war — like the Afghan weavers having incorporated images and icons of tanks and choppers and paratroopers into their artwork, and the same with the South African work, the tire necklaces, and all that. There was a real representation of how something as traumatic as war can affect the art, and how the art can reflect the change in the culture and the society, and can record that in its own way through its own traditional means.
My involvement was dealing with the trauma of losing my sight, of being shot and blinded and how the creation of Weights was grown out of that, and how some of my poetry was born out of traumatic experiences. We had workshops for people to explore traumatic experiences in their own lives, creatively, whether it was through visual art or spoken word or performance. It was an enlightening time for me to learn how artists in these other cultures have responded to their circumstances and their environment, and to feel a part of that continuum as well, not really having thought [previously] of my work as an outgrowth of a traumatic experience.
I find it most exciting when I can bring my work to a variety of cultural organizations or groups. One group that we did a presentation for was an urban dance troupe, basically African–American youngsters, moving from hip–hop to ballet and everything in between. We had another workshop with people with physical disabilities pursuing the performing arts, who were part of a growing disabled theater troupe there. Another session was with folks who had emotional challenges, and were using the visual arts as a means to express and deal with those challenges.
KARI: I know that you do a lot of community work, and this residency sounds very community–oriented. What are some of your most important community endeavors here in Los Angeles?
LYNN: There are three or four basic things I involve myself with. One is my involvement with disability arts and culture, trying to promote that particularly as far as theater is concerned, and involving persons with disabilities in theater, most often through the Firehouse Theater Company. Another is [with the Watts Village Theater Company] — bringing theater arts to the underserved populations of Watts's Afro–Latino, impoverished communities — using theater to tell stories that don't get told otherwise, or to address themes and issues that folks in the communities can relate to, or just as a means to inspire some of the young folks to pursue the arts, at least to the point that it enhances their literacy skills. The other is trying to make people aware of the Paralympic movement: the great, diligent, dedicated population of athletes with disabilities out there who are striving for perfection in competitive sport and don't get the exposure or recognition that I think they so desperately deserve.
KARI: How has your community involvement served to enhance your career or helped you deal with some of the barriers that you face as an artist with a disability?
LYNN: [My involvement has] enhanced my career by bringing me in contact with other artists who are driven in the same way, who have the same aspirations as I, and want to contribute to bringing more people to the table and exposing more folks to the joys and pleasures of creative self–expression. That's just the community aspect, finding community through this pursuit. The disability arts community is something I wouldn't be conscious of if I weren't out there in the mix. And that there is such a thing as "disability culture" is something that I could easily not be conscious of, either: the history and struggles in the art and of the other artists who are out there pursuing the arts and fighting the struggle for recognition of their art and acceptance of their art as Art, [rather than as] something "nice," you know, "Look what the poor gimp did." (Laughter)
That's been a great gift of this involvement, and even though it hasn't been intended as any sort of public relations on my part, [my involvement] has gotten me quite a bit of press exposure and recognition. I've gotten an Unsung Hero award from the local PBS broadcasting station here in Los Angeles, and recognition from the Media Access Office for workshops I ran for playwrights with disabilities, and NAACP awards for a couple of the plays that were produced in small theaters here in Los Angeles. That stuff has gotten me some limited exposure, and some local–level celebrity of sorts, and it's gotten me the exposure to get the audio CD of Weights [made], as well as the spoken word CD Clarity of Vision [1994]. And then there's Shoot, my short, experimental film that runs on cable endlessly! (Laughter) I suppose all of those things have exposed me enough so that I could be found by the producers of Blind Justice, to be asked to come onto that project as a technical advisor. I've been asked to advise on other projects as well, most often just as a volunteer, adding a few insights. [Blind Justice] was a well–paying job that I had hoped would continue. But there will be other opportunities, or we'll try and make some! (Laughter)
KARI: So, in your own words, to what do you attribute your success?
LYNN: It's a challenge to find the most precise and truthful words. I've always wanted to be an artist, as far back as I can remember. Whether it was Tempera colors or Play–Doh, I aspired to greatness. (Laughter) So I strove in that direction and I was encouraged to do that by my mother and my stepfather and my early teachers.
That's where I think I get the impetus, but I can't imagine doing anything else as my ultimate career. I've worked at other jobs, but they were always simply to support the opportunity to pursue the creative self–expression. As far as the aspect of wanting to use those skills, those arts, and whatever other knowledge I have to make the world a better place — I'm not sure if that came out of early church teachings. Or it seems sometimes part of being a child of alcoholic, codependent behavior: "Can't save Mom, but I can save the world." (Laughter) I'm not real sure what drives me that way, but I've always been driven that way, long before even getting involved in judo — and part of the judo credo is to make the world a better place through self–perfection. Now, I shoot to [make the world a better place] one person at a time, one audience member at a time, or one student at a time.
KARI: What advice would you give to someone who is looking to be an artist and striving for that same kind of artistic perfection?
LYNN: I can tell folks that have that creative drive not to panic when life gets in the way of that and prevents them from pursuing that. Always keep it close within the heart that this is what you want to do and what you will do given the opportunity. [Also,] strive toward making that opportunity.
A career in the arts is not an easy thing. It's not a generally accepted thing. Folks would be shocked at how often it's disrespected. But stick to your guns, and don't be detoured too long from that creative path. Whoever you are, strive to be the best at whichever art you intend to pursue. To do that, you're doing your homework by putting in the work, by studying the art, by working hard, and by striving to be the best that you can be, so that when and if you are ever confronted with people who don't accept you as an artist or who want to diminish your value, you first have to confront the quality of your work. I think that's one of the first things that any artist with a disability or any sort of minority culture status needs to be well–equipped and well–prepared [to do].
*Weights is now available on audio CD from Bridge Multimedia at
http://www.bridgemultimedia.com/weights.php.
**http://www.bodiesofwork.org/
A version of this interview will also appear in Opening Stages. Opening Stages is a free, quarterly newsletter produced by the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. To become a subscriber, e–mail your request for a subscription to Opening Stages along with your name, e–mail address, and snail mail address to access@kennedy-center.org, or mail the same information to Accessibility Program, Opening Stages, The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, 2700 F. Street, NW, Washington, DC 20566–0001, or fax your request to: (202) 416–8802. For more information contact the Accessibility Program at (202) 416–8727 (voice) or (202) 416–8728 (TTY), or via e–mail at access@kennedy-center.org.
Kari Pope works at the National Arts and Disability Center (NADC), www.nadc.ucla.edu, coordinating the Arts and Disability Network for California, http://www.artsdisabilitynetwork.ucla.edu. The NADC is part of UCLA's Tarjan Center (http://www.tarjancenter.ucla.edu), where Kari coordinates part of the Tarjan Center Service Inclusion Project, designed to engage more people with disabilities in national and community service. Kari is on the editorial board of Breath & Shadow and holds a BA in creative writing from the University of Redlands.

