Swimming to Cambodia

I found Spalding Gray’s Swimming to Cambodia to be an incredibly moving piece. His brilliance derives from the simplicity with which he performs, calling forth a haunting minimalism that nearly explodes with weight and tension. His use of fragments and digressions give his monologue formal substance and reflect the debilitating psychosis that is at the heart of this piece. I can definitely appreciate what Luis mentioned in class the other day about Gray’s nonlinear form and how it allows him to weave in and out of the opposing emotions of transcendence and damnation, as experienced in the repetition of the “perfect moment” and the “free floating cloud of evil.” The bipolar tension between these deeply intense and symbolic sentiments seems to characterize not just the mood of this individual monologue, but also carry weight in the life of Gray, particularly in its tragic ending. The “perfect moment” and the “free floating cloud of evil” ultimately collide in the monologue (about three-quarters of the way through, if I remember correctly) in a moment of sublimity when Gray describes his experience in the waves: “And suddenly there is no fear because there is no body to bite. There are no outlines, there is no me.” The rate at which transcendence and damnation weave in and out of one another occurs so quickly that they ultimately are weaved together and create this perfect moment that is, in reality, clouded by the possibility of death; however, death—while it still exists—is not feared, because the moment is spiritual and signals a disconnect between body and mind. Transcendence for Gray has occurred, and it is a moment in which time ceases to exist; his voice temporarily calms and gives the impression that his floating is one of eternity—that Gray has been, currently is, and will forever be there floating (this of course is eerie, considering his suicide years later).

The wild, frantic gestures, the speed of narration, the intense spotlight, the sublime oceanic background, and the alterations in pitch that Gray uses in the waves scene (and throughout the piece) also seem to be a nod towards Artaud and his Theater of Cruelty. While my understanding of Artaud derives primarily from a lit class on drama, I can see his influence in the experimental performance art of Gray. Despite the relative simplicity of the performance and staging, it is precisely this minimalism that offers a theatrically overwhelming experience that calls into question not only the sanity of Gray and the characters he depicts, but also the good judgment of the audience who is called to engage with the monologue on a humanistic level. Ultimately, it is the theatrics of the production that carry the weight of language and often substitute for language in their significance, thus assaulting the audience in order to expose a harsh reality of which many are naïve.