Exegesis

For this project, we kept with our theme of resurrecting childhood trauma.

On hearing the recent news of the discovery of Winston Churchill´s gray parrot, and the media´s excitement that it might indeed divulge secrets from the past, we became fascinated with the idea of an animal from the past that exists as a recorder/retainer of memories or secrets.

This idea plays with the breakdown of the public and the private, but also the misconception that divulging the “private lives” of our suspected monsters will lead to a safer and more healthy existence for our “normal” citizens. The idea of citizenship and human rights also comes into play: who gives and owns the right to the surveillance of our “monsters”? Who decides what look like or say and do?

We srew on Foucault´s concept of the panopticon and a power that is ubiquitous, omnipresent and invisible. Hidden behind the guise of everyone´s childhood buddy, a teddy bear, our recorder lives and breathes, remembering our secrets as an inanimate confidante who who then divulges our secrets to the world .

We liked the idea of recording a troubled youth who questions his sexuality, his sex and his place in the world. This extends the idea of surveillance and monstrosity to the not-quite-monstrous body, but a body with the potential to be so. The quelling of the would-be monster by society, especially in the current climate of the US, is startling. No one is given a chance to learn the rules of the game, to develop an awareness that they are being watched and to protect themselves accordingly. The watchful eyes, and in this case, the watchful ears of culture are always upon us.

The nursery rhymes the boy recites represent both his imbibement of cultural messages (ie. he is an abomination) and the ubiquity of prescriptions for living. At the nascient age of 5, the boy is aware that he is both living inside and outside these prescriptions. Mommy/Daddy and Teddy both become something diabolical in this prescription, givers and preservers of prescribed culture and constant surveillence.

The fact that a teddy bear is both carried by a child as a playmate and friend, but also as a bedmate allows that surveillance to enter into our unconscious,our dreams and our introspective moments where not even we are aware of what we say and how we feel. The desire to know beyond what the individual knows about himself/herself, and to use that information to categorize, label and at times to destroy, becomes an everyday occurrence-- maliciously hidden under the doe-eyed expression of teddy.

Script

5 years of age: the beginning

Ok, teddy. Let´s start the tea party right. Do you have all your accessories? Oh no, teddy. Not that hat with that dress. You look…too fancy for this party. Oh teddy, I love you. La di da di da.

Baa baa black sheep
have you any wool?
yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.

One for the master,
and one for the dame,
and one for the little boy
who lives down the lane.

Maybe we should invite him? What do you think, Teddy? Do you think the little boy down the lane wants to come ?

Yaaaa!! Ok, mama. Ok, dada. Ok, teddy, time for sleepy sleepy.
Teddy bear, teddy bear
touch the ground,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
turn around,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
pick up your shoe,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
that will do,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
go upstairs,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
say your prayers,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
blow out the light,
Teddy bear, teddy bear
say goodnight.

7 Years of age:
Teddy take off that dress and let´s go to the ball now. Let´s go all decked out, as mommy says, in our finery. A dance, Teddy…why I´d love to? I´d really love to dance with Freddy from the playground. He´s so nice and pretty. He´s so…now Teddy don´t tell anyone this…but I think I love Freddy. It feels kind of strange and…well…I don´t know. I wish he wanted to play with me. He always hanga around with those mean boys who tease me because I paint my nails and play with my mother´s clothes and makeup. Sometimes I forget to wipe it all off, and I go out with lipstick on. I wish I could always go out with lipstick and no one would tease me or call me names. And all the boys would blow me kisses instead of pebbles.

What are little boys

made of,

made of?

What are little boys

made of?

Frogs and snails

And puppy dog tails,

That's what little boys

are made of.

What are little girls

made of,

made of?

What are little girls

made of?

Sugar and spice

And all things nice,

That's what little girls

are made of.

Oh, Teddy. Why can´t I be a girl?

9 years of age:
As though masturbating:
Teddy, no hold still while I…oh come on teddy, don´t be like that, just…a…little…bit. Oh teddy I love you.

I had a little husband

no bigger than my thumb,

I put him in a pint pot

and there I bade him drum.

I bought a little horse

that galloped up and down,

I bridled him and saddled him

and sent him out of town.

I gave him some garters

to garter up his hose,

and a little silk handkerchief (climaxes)

to wipe his pretty nose.

11 years old:
God damn them all of them. Mrs. Calandrillo the puffy haired old bat, the organ player at my school, I´ve told you about her before, Teddy. Well, she told me that children like me go to hell for not doing what they´re told, acting like they ought to. She told me I was an “abomination”. What´s that mean? Hmnnnn, let´s see (flips through pages of a dictionary searching for the word) Abom-Abom-Abomination (Finds the word). Abomination. Something abom-abom-abom…abominable. Ok, teddy, let´s find abom-i-na-ble. (As though frightened) Worthy of or causing disgust or hatred ???!!! Quite disagreeable, unpleasant. (starting to cry)

Some loud interference and people running. The boy starts screaming.

Mommy, mommy help. They´re hurting me. Daddy, where are you? Teddy, Teddy, T-e-d-d-y! (his voice fades out as he screams for Teddy.
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