I knew the moment I watched this CNN video that I’d have to blog it. It’s a story that resonates with me on many different levels.
First of all, Sibahle Tshibika, the video’s protagonist, has a very strong presence in the film despite being so soft-spoken. When I look at her, I see a deep-seated sadness (or world weariness) in her eyes, but, while watching her dance, I can’t help but feel that she’s learned to use her emotionality as a kind of fuel, one that will take her far in life (it has already carried her across a vast ocean) even if she doesn’t end up being a professional performer. Rosemary Ringer, the viewer who felt compelled to contact Atlanta Ballet after watching the HBO documentary, mentions, when discussing Tshibika’s early life, that our dancer grew up in impoverished surroundings. After taking a look at this very interesting site about the township where our aspirant was born and had her formative experiences, it’s easy to see that Ringer was perhaps being a bit generous in her assessment of the place.
As a student of the arts, I have often been fascinated by creative endeavors done by “outsiders,” meaning people who are not part of the cultural elite. These artists are often called “self-taught” and the work that they do is sometimes referred to as “naïve.” I would say that Sibahle falls into this category. I would also say that it would be a misnomer to call her (or her dancing) naïve, at least in the more pejorative sense of what that word can mean. (An aside: one of my favorite women “outsider” writers is Tillie Olsen, profiled here.)
Now, getting back to the CNN video. I found the message to be a powerful one: When one door closes, another one always opens. I have discovered this to be true in my own life. I can’t think of many times when I didn’t get a second chance at something after the first one came and went.
To use another metaphor, there really is truth to the old saying that every cloud has a silver lining.
Often, while I’m getting ready to go to work, I listen to a live, online broadcast of the day’s news put out by a relatively new media outfit called Russia Today. I like RT because their reporters frequently bring an interesting perspective to their stories. Plus, I once lived in Poland and have traveled a lot in central and eastern Europe, so I like to keep up with what’s going on in that part of the world.
A few mornings ago–I forget which day it was now–I was wandering around my apartment, buttoning up my shirt or brushing my teeth or doing whatever I happened to be doing at the moment, when RT aired a poignant report about Maria Mamzurina-Volkova, a septuagenarian Muscovite with an interesting connection to the small town of Kistelek in southern Hungary. The “Spiritual Mission” hook used to introduce her story was enough to draw me into my living room where I ended up taking a seat and watching the entire four-minute video, the very same one embedded here.
Immediately after seeing this story about “family duty”–that’s Volkova’s phrase–I composed an email to myself which included a link to the archived version of the report and then wrote, in the subject line of the message I was typing, the following: “My Next Savvy Blog.”
I can’t entirely put into words why I find this story so captivating. Maybe it’s because the protagonist reminds me so much of any number of indomitable women I’ve known during my own lifetime? Or, perhaps it’s because I feel that I’ve had my faith restored in humanity after watching this report? In this age of the short attention span, when it seems that just about everything has become expendable, here is a story about a very strong woman who refuses to forget or discard, and that, my friends, makes her very precious.
For additional information about Volkova, her brother, and her life’s mission, check out this story, from 2006, on Pravda.
I’m blogging my second Rocketboom video this week. It’s pretty self-explanatory, so I’ll let you go ahead and have a look.
Now, to get the full Mortified experience, check out these “Shoebox” clips. I recommend that you start with “Stairway to Winnipeg,” featuring Joanna Stein. I wanted to include that one here, but alas the site doesn’t allow individual samples to be embedded. I don’t want to give everything away before you’ve seen Stein do her thing. I will say this, though. After watching her musical “report,” I’ve found that I can’t get her “Stairway to Winnipeg” refrain out of my head.
At this point, I could take this blog any number of directions. I could talk about the genius of Dave Nadelberg’s concept. I could confess that I, too, have dozens of notebooks full of embarrassing juvenilia. Rather than exploring either one of those topics, though, I think I’ll discuss psychology.
Mortified works because it partners exhibitionists with voyeurs, and that’s a match made in heaven. (I want to be absolutely clear, though, that I’m not casting aspersions on either of those types by using those terms.) In fact, to be frank, I’ve got a little bit of the former (and the latter) in me. A lot of my writing is autobiographical and a touch confessional, and I also enjoy reading memoirs, especially those where the writer is willing to candidly engage in full self-disclosure.
I guess I’m trying to say that I find these sorts of performances to be my cup of tea.
