Mario Azzopardi: between poetry and theatre

Mario Azzopardi: between poetry and theatre Interviewed for The Maltese Herald, Sydney, Australia by Roderick Bovingdon
You truly live your poetry Mario. What significance does this art form assume in (1) the life of humankind and (2) in your life? Despite all the efforts to enable the contemporary thesis eliminate the poetical component from our lives (just take a glance at what's happening within the consumerist frenzy), poetry steadfastly persists anchored to the human psyche. It can get buried and they can gag it, it can be swapped with all forms of distraction, but poetry remains, awaiting that unique moment to sprout. Even when the media and the phenomenon of Macdonaldisation feel they are giving their utmost not to belittle us with their “poetry”, the images and the implications remain. The dead bodies along the streets of Palestine and Iraq will remain as well as the miserable throngs who work twelve hours a day to earn the meager dollar dished out to them by the designer clothing companies. That's poetry. I live those perceptions. That's the kind of poetry I live. Oftentimes it is a poetry which abides within my mind, never expressed in writing, yet it makes me thirst for what is just. I believe that every genuine poet acknowledges different values and interpretations in the art of versification, to those of every other poet. This argument comes close to that of the deist, in that each individual who believes in God embraces a unique meaning for what the concept of God represents. I do not know what God is. If I knew what or who God is, I would almost be God myself. I have no idea whether God is more man than woman or the other way around and I don't know whether He is made up of a mixture of both. What I am sure of is that I do not believe in the biblical God of antiquity. I believe in an abstract intelligence, cosmic, which I am unable to define. But it is an ever present intelligence which frequently I consider as a point of reference, even to present daring questions, without compromise, regarding all the misery in this world, regarding the enduring suffering oppressing humankind. I ask what placing and measure does God share in all of this. There is that theology which states that he who seeks God has already found Him. I have sought Him out all of my life and I still haven't found Him. Regarding Christ: I regard him as a model, singular mystic, the son of God. I believe in much of what he has proclaimed. The preoccupying element of theatre (and all forms of spectacle and entertainment) is a powerful tool which enables the perpetuation of power. I believe in that form of theatre which offers contrariness, which provokes, which has the capacity to be irreverent by means of satire and other carnivalesque forms, which disturbs the conscience, which provides critical questions and moves the community to think and (maybe) to act. This type of theatre in Malta is rare because the cultural machinery prefers institutional alliances. This is honey for the politicians,	because they won't need to worry about some spectacle which might incriminate them. This alliance results in the principal movers within the cultural institutions (and therefore also theatrical) asserting themselves of the patronage of those in power. Theatre, in the eyes of Mario Azzopardi, is it the principal point of reference between the author and society? How do you visualise the relationship an author has towards society? I believe in theatre as political action. All forms of theatre are political acts. Even mere entertaining theatre has a political reference, for it is in the interest of the agents of power that their peoples are entertained; giving people circus entertainment means that they will not have the capacity to scrutinize the dimensions of power and thereby confront it. Betwixt poetry and theatre, although the language and the technique are vastly different, there exists a certain esoteric dimension. Where is the individual to be found within this surrealist mélange? In both cases he is right in the centre. I perceive poetry in theatre and theatre in poetry. The difference is to be found only, incidentally, in form but the essence of everything is the individual. In your critique you sound as if you are torn between the two genres, in a philosophical sense. I see an intimate connection between theatre and poetry. One must understand also that in a contemporary sense, theatre is not seen exclusively in a literary light. Nowadays there are several anthropological motives which make for the spectacle. Theatre is being applied in several disciplines, for therapeutic purposes and even as a catalyst or as a tool with which to empower the citizen. I feel I am very close to this type of theatre. And when you provide access to power for the common citizen, you give vent to the exposure of widespread and democratic creativity. You grant an expression to the frustrated and discarded poetry of the populace. A number of critics and commentators of your works have described you as the enfant terrible of Maltese poetry. Even these days! Can a genuine artist ever escape these great forces within all of us: those of the little boy and that of the rebel, without capitulating to compromise? Labels always remain just that, labels. What matters is the authenticity. I believe in the organic artist, who does not harp on his own exclusivity and who doesn't pretend to soar beyond the public arena. If we are going to place our faith in the artist as a voice of inspiration for others, we cannot accept their opportunistic and convenient silence. The world of art, in its entirety (not merely the literary scene) is replete with committed individuals, laden with anxiety and internal rebellion which then projects itself onto the community. I do not know how one can compromise by silencing oneself. If you silence yourself, you will have sealed your own casket. You will have abrogated your responsibility as an intellectual. At least this is the intellectual that I conceive of.

Mario Azzopardi: between poetry and theatre

Interviewed for The Maltese Herald, Sydney, Australia

Roderick Bovingdon

You truly live your poetry Mario. What significance does this art form assume in (1) the life of humankind and (2) in your life?

Despite all the efforts to enable the contemporary thesis eliminate the poetical component from our lives (just take a glance at what's happening within the consumerist frenzy), poetry steadfastly persists anchored to the human psyche. It can get buried and they can gag it, it can be swapped with all forms of distraction, but poetry remains, awaiting that unique moment to sprout. Even when the media and the phenomenon of Macdonaldisation feel they are giving their utmost not to belittle us with their “poetry”, the images and the implications remain. The dead bodies along the streets of Palestine and Iraq will remain as well as the miserable throngs who work twelve hours a day to earn the meager dollar dished out to them by the designer clothing companies. That's poetry. I live those perceptions. That's the kind of poetry I live. Oftentimes it is a poetry which abides within my mind, never expressed in writing, yet it makes me thirst for what is just.

I believe that every genuine poet acknowledges different values and interpretations in the art of versification, to those of every other poet. This argument comes close to that of the deist, in that each individual who believes in God embraces a unique meaning for what the concept of God represents.

I do not know what God is. If I knew what or who God is, I would almost be God myself. I have no idea whether God is more man than woman or the other way around and I don't know whether He is made up of a mixture of both. What I am sure of is that I do not believe in the biblical God of antiquity. I believe in an abstract intelligence, cosmic, which I am unable to define. But it is an ever present intelligence which frequently I consider as a point of reference, even to present daring questions, without compromise, regarding all the misery in this world, regarding the enduring suffering oppressing humankind. I ask what placing and measure does God share in all of this. There is that theology which states that he who seeks God has already found Him. I have sought Him out all of my life and I still haven't found Him. Regarding Christ: I regard him as a model, singular mystic, the son of God. I believe in much of what he has proclaimed.

The preoccupying element of theatre (and all forms of spectacle and entertainment) is a powerful tool which enables the perpetuation of power. I believe in that form of theatre which offers contrariness, which provokes, which has the capacity to be irreverent by means of satire and other carnivalesque forms, which disturbs the conscience, which provides critical questions and moves the community to think and (maybe) to act. This type of theatre in Malta is rare because the cultural machinery prefers institutional alliances. This is honey for the politicians,

because they won't need to worry about some spectacle which might incriminate them. This alliance results in the principal movers within the cultural institutions (and therefore also theatrical) asserting themselves of the patronage of those in power.

Theatre, in the eyes of Mario Azzopardi, is it the principal point of reference between the author and society? How do you visualise the relationship an author has towards society?

I believe in theatre as political action. All forms of theatre are political acts. Even mere entertaining theatre has a political reference, for it is in the interest of the agents of power that their peoples are entertained; giving people circus entertainment means that they will not have the capacity to scrutinize the dimensions of power and thereby confront it.

Betwixt poetry and theatre, although the language and the technique are vastly different, there exists a certain esoteric dimension. Where is the individual to be found within this surrealist mélange?

In both cases he is right in the centre. I perceive poetry in theatre and theatre in poetry. The difference is to be found only, incidentally, in form but the essence of everything is the individual.

In your critique you sound as if you are torn between the two genres, in a philosophical sense.

I see an intimate connection between theatre and poetry. One must understand also that in a contemporary sense, theatre is not seen exclusively in a literary light. Nowadays there are several anthropological motives which make for the spectacle. Theatre is being applied in several disciplines, for therapeutic purposes and even as a catalyst or as a tool with which to empower the citizen. I feel I am very close to this type of theatre. And when you provide access to power for the common citizen, you give vent to the exposure of widespread and democratic creativity. You grant an expression to the frustrated and discarded poetry of the populace.

A number of critics and commentators of your works have described you as the enfant terrible of Maltese poetry. Even these days! Can a genuine artist ever escape these great forces within all of us: those of the little boy and that of the rebel, without capitulating to compromise?

Labels always remain just that, labels. What matters is the authenticity. I believe in the organic artist, who does not harp on his own exclusivity and who doesn't pretend to soar beyond the public arena. If we are going to place our faith in the artist as a voice of inspiration for others, we cannot accept their opportunistic and convenient silence. The world of art, in its entirety (not merely the literary scene) is replete with committed individuals, laden with anxiety and internal rebellion which then projects itself onto the community. I do not know how one can compromise by silencing oneself. If you silence yourself, you will have sealed your own casket. You will have abrogated your responsibility as an intellectual. At least this is the intellectual that I conceive of.