hannahgadsby   17

Hannah Gadsby Refuses To Make Lesbianism The Butt Of The Joke
Watching Nanette made me question the way queer people tell our darkest stories, and who we’re telling them for. Namely, how often are we either sensationalizing these experiences, or else downplaying them and making jokes, worried that what we’ve gone through isn’t traumatic enough to merit more than a passing mention? Tragedy of all kinds is usually centered in the queer stories we do see, particularly in the mainstream, and not for nothing — for so many of us, our identities were formed in times of trauma. But what would it mean if the stories we told about ourselves weren’t focused on the worst things that have ever happened to us?
hannahgadsby  nanette  queerness  comedy  buzzfeed 
august 2018 by laurenipsum
The distance I can be from my son
"We took the 5-year-old docent and his brother back to the Blanton Museum this afternoon. My favorite piece was Lenka Clayton’s The Distance I Can Be From My Son (2013). In three short videos, Clayton films her son walking away from her until she can’t stand it anymore and runs after him. The videos were part of Clayton’s “Artist Residency in Motherhood:” an attempt to “allow [motherhood] to shape the direction of my work, rather than try to work ‘despite it’.”

["The distance I can be from my son - Supermarket"
https://vimeo.com/54984971 ]

In Hannah Gadsby’s devastating Netflix special, Nanette, she deconstructs how jokes work on a system of tension and release — the setup is “artificially inseminated with tension” and the punchline releases it. Each of these videos is structured like a joke: You see the son toddling away, and at the very end of the video, the mother bolts after him. Tension and release. Setup and punchline.

["The distance I can be from my son - Park"
https://vimeo.com/49564932 ]

There are interesting layers here: Clayton is setting herself up to see how far she can let her son go, and she’s setting us up, too. (Gadsby points out that her job as a comedian is to build tension and release it and do that over and over again. “This is an abusive relationship!”) We watched the videos with our kids after spending an exhausting 30 minutes in the museum trying to keep them close, my wife restraining the 3-year-old from leaping onto the paintings. (Unfortunately, art museums do require “helicopter parenting.”) The joke, I think, is not on the kid, or the kid viewers: my sons laughed out loud during the videos — I think they were rooting for him to get away!

["The distance I can be from my son - Back Alley"
https://vimeo.com/54962435 ]

Then, you remember the news and the fact that our government has split thousands of families apart at the border. Suddenly, The Distance I Can Be From My Son takes on a completely different meaning. You laughed and now you want to scream."
art  austinkleon  parenting  freedom  lenkclayton  tension  releas  hannahgadsby  comedy  tragedy 
july 2018 by robertogreco
"Your resilience is your humanity." So glad I got to see 's Nanette, the only word I can think of that…
hannahgadsby  from twitter_favs
july 2018 by mildlydiverting
Welcome to Twitter
Yep. Sticking a stamp on it doesn't make the whole concept any less distasteful. Of course w…
Nanette  HannahGadsby  from twitter_favs
august 2017 by jkerrison

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