The Olympics: Drama, Balance, and Empathy

I write today's blog by request. How nice is that? :) :)

In this house, we watch the Olympics like everyone else, but I guess our comments are not the same as in every other house. For example, the other day, watching the athletes, the whole conversation going on in our living room was whether the term apparatus was pluralised into apparati (following the second declination Lupus, -i in Latin. Was it the second one?) or whether it would be left as apparatus. Probably nobody else on Earth was having that type of reaction to the Olympics. But there you go, aliens do exist, they do postgrad studies.

I get the feeling this year that the Olympics are where they should be: in Greece. There is something that feels right about the Olympics being in Greece, and I think they should always be in Greece.

I also think the Olympics should be a bit more theatrical. Watching the athletes yesterday, I was thinking that probably it's very special for them that it's in Greece, because that's where this thing started, isn't it? As Richard Schechner says, we don't give a damn about origins. Well, he doesn't say that, he puts it like this: "Origin theories are irrelevant to understanding theater." (Performance Theory, p. 7) And no, origins are not that important, but the space is. This is a repetition of the games, on the same spot, and I am sure the gods are watching, above the athletes, above the apparati/apparatus/apparatuses/whatever, above the judges, and above the non-existant roof. And I would like to see a bit more drama, which is what Greece is about. If you don't believe me, go meet Greek people ;)

So, for example, in artistic gymnastics, they should look at the film "Flashdance", which we watched last night, and incorporate drama to the performance. In fighting, judo, and all the contact-sports, they should make a little presentation and create an atmosphere of "Karate Kid", for instance, or some Jean-Claude Van-Damme film. Or, better than that, a fight scene from "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". Or "Kill Bill". I miss some artistic element in the Olympics, because, well, because I couldn't be less competitive. I watch it merely for the sheer visual fascination of watching people taking their bodies to extremes, and striving not to lose balance and control. That, I guess, is part of the essence of the Olympics for me.
And it's fascinating to watch because of the empathy factor: you watch them do that, and you experience some of it just by watching. The same as when you watch "Flashdance", and you end up wanting to become a dancer, you dance your way upstairs to your room, you download the soundtrack from the internet, and the next morning you start the day with "What a Feeling!" and "She's a Maniac" at full volume. Or in the same way as the prince of Spain gets married to a woman called Letizia who is a journalist, and in 10 years you have millions of journalist-women called Letizia. A rush of empathy that people should be able to control sometimes, like athletes do with their strength.

So, I guess, my opinion on the Olympics does not factor in the element of competition. I hear comments from British people in the house, some saying things like "we don't win medals because we don't want to", and others saying "where did we f...-up again?". Both comments boil down to: are we better? are we worse? But a British athlete yesterday turned things around when he got a medal, a bronze medal, in some swimming competition, I think, and was interviewed by a journalist. Asked why he was so happy when he was expected to get gold, he said something like: hey, this is the olympics, people here are the best, you come here just to test yourself and perform against yourself. With an enormous smile on his face. I guess the gods are around there, and not here today...