David Byrne and the

David Byrne and the
Utopian Imagination

Benjamin Gillespie

We’re not fixed, our brains can change.
Who we are thankfully extends beyond ourselves . . .
to the connections between all of us.
—David Byrne, American Utopia

F or as long as I can remember, I’ve been an enthusiast of singer-songwriter

David Byrne. At a young age, my father introduced me to his music through
the Talking Heads commercial breakthrough album Speaking in Tongues, A
textured art-rock compilation that shaped New Wave music of the 1980s. Der
album contained well-known tracks like “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody),”
“Slippery People,” and “Burning Down the House,” and has remained in Byrne’s
repertoire since the band split in the early 1990s, at which time he launched a
successful solo album career while collaborating with numerous artists span-
ning music, film, theatre, opera, and visual art. But Byrne is not only a brilliant
musician: in conceptualizing his concert performances, which might be more
aptly described as full-on theatrical productions, he functions as an auteur, col-
laborating with artists on everything from the set, lighting, and costume design
to movement and choreography. He produces conceptual frameworks for his
performances that serve to foreground his dynamic stage presence and powerful
voice. His work unreservedly crosses artistic boundaries and borrows elements
from a wide range of cultural sources, from Noh theatre to downtown experimen-
tal dance. More than any other popular rock artist (perhaps aside from Laurie
Anderson), Byrne continues to collapse the boundaries between the mainstream
and the experimental, always hovering somewhere in between, drawing disparate
audiences together that might otherwise never cross paths while remaining part
of the cultural zeitgeist.

Byrne’s performances seek to derive an embodied response from audiences: sein
rhythmic playfulness and off-kilter lyrics necessitate an immediate kinetic reac-

© 2021 Journal für darstellende Künste, Inc.

SEITE 129 (2021), S. 7–18. 

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https://doi.org/10.1162/pajj_a_00573

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tion, further accentuated by his high-energy stage persona, motivating spectators
to move freely and dance together in unison. His penchant for theatricality was
famously captured in the live concert footage featured in Jonathan Demme’s
renowned 1984 film Stop Making Sense, the first recording I ever saw of Byrne
on stage, which expanded my understanding of his vision as a performer. Der
film showcases his frenetic, ecstatic movements on stage, at times reminiscent
of ritual dance or even evangelical preaching. This comparison seems appropri-
ate when considering the ways his songs have the power to induce a trance-like
state as he immerses audiences in heightened theatrical worlds. He possesses a
keen awareness of the audience and the uncanny ability to make everyone feel
in Verbindung gebracht, creating a theatrical utopia of sorts as a true citizen artist.

Stop Making Sense begins with an empty stage and stripped-down sound; as it
progresses, the space slowly fills up with musical equipment, band members, Und
set pieces so that we see the genesis of the music as the energy crescendos and
more and more bodies take up the stage who echo Byrne’s vocals and movement.
Byrne oversaw all elements of the stage performance captured in the film, col-
laborating with lighting designer Beverly Emmons (who had previously worked
with Robert Wilson and Philip Glass for Einstein on the Beach) and director JoAnne
Akalaitis who Byrne invited to provide feedback on the stage performance (Und
with whom he would later work on Mabou Mines’ Dead End Kids). As he has
stated publicly, Byrne doesn’t want his work to be naturalistic in any way, Aber
prefers his performances to be heightened above the mundane of everyday life.

Byrne’s performance style remains markedly theatrical, influenced by a career-long
engagement with the avant-garde. His work is both experimental and popular,
allowing him to bring different perspectives to audiences who might otherwise
never venture below Fourteenth Street. His collaborations include productions
with Robert Wilson, Twyla Tharp, Spalding Gray, and Meredith Monk, among
many other experimental artists. These experiences undoubtedly pushed Byrne
to adopt a more presentational style in his work. Rebelling against the industry
standard of authenticity and naturalism with roots in the 1960s, he opts instead
for a unified artistic vision that encompasses all aspects of theatrical and musical
production. This aesthetic development and his own performance philosophy
are the focus of his remarkable book, How Music Works (2012), which covers
everything from the genesis of music to its distribution, how music shapes col-
lective experiences, and his personal influences and stories from a life spent in
music.1 Byrne’s utopian imagination is one that invites audiences into his creative
mind for a collectively uplifting experience that confounds any singular genre
categorization.

8  BLUME 129

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His most recent theatre project, American Utopia, which ran on Broadway at the
Hudson Theatre from October 2019 through February 2020, closed just prior to
the Covid-19 pandemic, when theatres shutdown for a year and a half. In the
production, Byrne presents himself on a narrative journey from independence
to communion with the audience—a kind of Everyman figure for the contem-
porary world. The Broadway version incorporates monologues and a more vivid
narrative through-line for theatre audiences than the world concert tour that
preceded it in 2018 of the same name, while keeping much of its original design
and choreography. The shift from concert venue to Broadway theatre (and later,
to film) required a revision to the original material and design for the show, als
well as the addition of monologues spoken by Byrne between musical numbers.

Collaborators include downtown choreographer Annie-B Parson, whom he’d first
worked with on Everything That Happens Will Happen Today (2008, with Brian Eno).
Parson worked on both the concert tour and Broadway versions of American Utopia,
as did lighting designer Rob Sinclair. For the Broadway version, they brought in
writer and director Alex Timbers as a production consultant to assist in drama-
tizing the narrative. (Vor allem, Byrne, Parson, and Timbers had worked together
previously on the musical Here Lies Love, which premiered at The Public Theater in
2013.) The production also inspired an illustrated book project with visual artist
Maira Kalman, whose drawings also appeared on the drop curtain in the Hudson
Theater. With the release of a cast recording in 2019 and a concert film in 2020,
American Utopia seems to have mutated across every possible medium, making it
accessible to audiences who might favor one genre over another.

American Utopia recalls Stop Making Sense in numerous ways: the entire cast wear
neutral gray suits; the stage begins emptied out and gradually fills with bodies as
musicians and musical equipment are added; and gestures and movements are
performed and repeated to create a sense of flow and rhythm with the music. Als
with the Speaking in Tongues album and tour that inspired Stop Making Sense, Die
live performance of American Utopia too began as an album tour and became the
subject of an extraordinary concert film by another major director, Spike Lee. Der
film version of American Utopia was released in September 2020 at the Toronto
International Film Festival and then on HBO’s on-demand platform. Overseen by
Byrne, both shows mutated seamlessly into different media platforms, increasing
the impact and accessibility of the work.

American Utopia offers an antidote to the dwindling connections in an increasingly
isolated and divisive world. Over the course of each evening, Byrne performs
the show alongside eleven other band members, transforming the Hudson The-
atre into both an intimate concert hall and ritual theatre space as audiences are

GILLESPIE / David Byrne and the Utopian Imagination  9

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Top/bottom: David Byrne and the company of American Utopia at the Hudson Theatre on Broadway. Photos:

For David: Dance Chart for American Utopia (2019). Foto: Annie-B Parson. Courtesy the artist.

Matthew Murphy © 2019.

10  BLUME 129

GILLESPIE / David Byrne and the Utopian Imagination  11

inevitably moved to their feet to dance and sing along with the music, emanat-
ing pure joy that promises a more connected present and future. Byrne’s utopian
imagination is defined, es scheint, by a desire to expand human connections across
perceived boundaries, providing a message of hope in dark times that stave off
feelings of anxiety and detachment in our increasingly virtual reality. As choreo-
grapher Annie-B Parson has remarked of the piece, “It’s very hybrid. What you
will see is more like a dance performance. And what you’re going to feel is more
like a play . . . [Byrne] has completely invented a new form of theatre. I don’t
know what to call it. But it’s something unexpected, visually very different, sehr
minimalist in this beautiful open space, which is very different for Broadway.”2

Parson and Rob Sinclair collaborated closely to take advantage of the blank gray
canvas on stage, placing movement and lighting at the center of the production.
Even with a cast of primarily non-dancers without formal training, Parson was
able to employ repetition and simplistic gestures to connect the music. Cast mem-
bers come and go frequently, taking up space and exiting or entering from all
sides of the stage. This is a black box (or gray box) theatre without walls, replaced
by chain-link, metallic curtains that surround the stage space and change color
depending on the desired lighting effect. Since Parson had no equipment, cords,
microphones, or platforms to contend with, the sky was the limit in terms of
how she could use the space. Each song was choreographed as a separate entity
before bringing it back to the whole, and Parson considered both shape and line
to create what she calls “movement phrases” in the piece. In tandem with the
lighting, the musicians/dancers step in and out of focus at different moments as
rectangles and circles of light are projected on the stage floor, creating the effect
of a living chessboard. The lighting design serves to emphasize Byrne’s journey
weiter, moving from monochrome to a spectrum of bright colors; while the
color palette starts out on a very limited scale, it then moves into more vivid
hues as he discovers the larger community on stage and begins to recognize the
presence of the audience more fully.

The show employs cutting-edge technology in wireless audio and BlackTrax
lighting design, featuring real-time tracking of the performers; untethered from
cables, this technology allows free movement across the stage—a sight uncommon
for a Broadway show or even a rock concert. Unseeable to audiences, BlackTrax
sends positional information to lighting consoles and merges it with Sinclair’s
pre-designed lighting cues. In a conversation I had with Sinclair, he stated that
Byrne had certain rules he wanted the creative team to follow: A) never blackout;
B) have nothing on the stage other than the performers; and c) eliminate any
equipment and crew from view. Since the cast members wear identical clothing,

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perform barefoot, and carry their musical instruments around with them, Die
costumes could be highlighted or made to completely disappear with a wash of
color depending on the mood of each song.

Byrne begins American Utopia by talking about the function of the human brain.
He informs us about a study he read which found that babies have many more
neuro-connections than adults do. Sitting alone at a table placed center stage (eins
of the only set pieces in the show, which quickly disappears after the opening) Er
holds a plastic replica of an adult brain. He notes that, as we age, our cognitive
connections deteriorate, and we become more closed off from other humans as
we prune down our social networks. Singing the first song in the show, called
"Hier,” Byrne points to different parts of the brain:

Now it feels like a bad connection/ No more information now/ As it
passes through your neurons/ Like a whisper in the dark/ Raise your
eyes to one who loves you/ It is safe right where you are/ Here is an area
of great confusion/ Here is a section that’s extremely precise/ Here is an
area that needs attention/ Here is a connection with the opposite side.

The song speaks directly to the times on many levels, especially in hindsight as
we consider the cut-off connections resulting from the Covid-19 pandemic. Der
word “here” doubles for what Byrne points at directly (the model brain), Aber
also functions in a more metatheatrical way to point to a divided and alienated
Amerika. But the production’s message remains optimistic, ultimately showing
how connections can be repaired and remade.

Relatedly, In 2019, Byrne began a website called “We Are Not Divided” with the
sole purpose of collecting and sharing stories of unity to combat the increasingly
negative portrayal of the U.S. in the media.3 “We Are Not Divided” is just one
part of Byrne’s Reasons to Be Cheerful, a non-profit online magazine that shares
and covers stories about positive social change in the arts and culture as well
as in climate and environment, economics, Ausbildung, health and science, Und
urban life. As the website notes, “Through stories of hope, rooted in evidence,
Reasons to Be Cheerful aims to inspire us all to be curious about how the world
can be better, and to ask ourselves how we can be part of that change.”4 This
description could easily double as one for American Utopia. Tatsächlich, many of the
songs in the show reiterate the theme of positive social connection, even those
released decades ago, which take on new meaning in the present. Zum Beispiel,
in “Don’t Worry About the Government,” released by the Talking Heads in 1977,
Byrne sings:

GILLESPIE / David Byrne and the Utopian Imagination  13

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I see the states, across this big nation/ I see the laws made in Washington,
D.C./ I think of the ones I consider my favorites/ I think of the people
that are working for me/ Some civil servants are just like my loved ones/
They work so hard and they try to be strong/ I’m a lucky guy to live in
my building/ They own the buildings to help them along.

While the song’s meaning remains somewhat ambiguous and is perhaps ironic
in tone, when I saw American Utopia, it functioned to reinforce the importance
of civic engagement. It’s meaning will undoubtedly be modified again when the
production returns to Broadway in September 2021, as audiences will recall the
insurrection and storming of the U.S. Capitol building in January 2021.

Not only was American Utopia staged in the lead up to—and during—the
tumultuous presidential election campaign of 2020, Aber, looking back now, Die
show is eerily prescient of the longing for connection we would all face as the
pandemic brought audience gatherings to a halt and the country was forced to
practice physical distancing. At one point in the production, I remember Byrne
thanking the audience for coming out of their homes and being there together
at the theatre in a singular space and time. Hearing this line echoed again in
Lee’s adaptation of the production to film made me long for the experience of
in-person theatre once again. Another song that changes from its original context
is Byrne’s “Everybody’s Coming to My House,” which provided an even more
salient message of inclusion when he collaborated with students from the Detroit
School of Arts Vocal Jazz Ensemble on a cover of the song in “American Utopia:
Detroit.” As Byrne writes on his website, “When I saw what the Detroit School
of Arts students did with my song, it completely changed the way I thought of
Es. Tatsächlich, it changed the meaning of the song—I realized it was about inclusion,
welcoming, and not being alone . . We are all in the same house—if we want to
Sei. Just goes to show how a song can change (radically!) depending on who is
singing it.”5 Of course, the song’s meaning in the production will change when
the show returns to Broadway after more than a year in isolation and visiting
others in their homes is once again possible.

In his monologues, Byrne encourages audience members to register to vote, Zu
have faith in democracy, and most of all, to persevere. While American Utopia is
never fully steered by political content, there is a sense of unrest that undergirds
die Produktion, making it feel like change is on the horizon. The performance
directly addresses the racial reckonings happening in the U.S. (and beyond) als
Black Americans continue to be unjustly killed by the police, galvanized by the
Black Lives Matter movement after the murders of Freddie Gray (“Say his name!”),
Eric Garner (“Say his name!”), and Trayvon Martin (“Say his name!”), among

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others who are named in a call-and-response format during a cover of Janelle
Monáe’s 2015 protest song “Hell You Talmbout.” In the film version of the show,
Lee includes George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor, whose deaths
occurred after the closing of the show, in images held up by the victims’ mothers
during what becomes the most politically charged moment of the film. Racial
violence is evoked earlier too when the cast performs “Slippery People,” the lyrics
uncannily speaking to the street protests that call out these injustices happening
Vor, während, and after the run of the Broadway production:

Put away that gun/ This part is simple/ Try to recognize/ What is in your
Geist?/ God help us/ Help us lose our minds/ These slippery people/
Help us understand/ What’s the matter with him? (He’s alright)/ I’ll see
his face (the Lord won’t mind)/ Don’t play no games (he’s alright)/ Liebe
from the bottom to the top.

Performing beside Byrne is a cast reflective of the diversity of America includ-
ing Black, Braun, and queer bodies on stage—especially in the extraordinary
performances by lead vocalists and dancers Tendayi Kuumba and Chris Giarmo,
who envelope Byrne’s left and right sides for most of the performance, often
stealing the show. Though the performance begins with a focus on Byrne as an
individual, it ends with a message of the collective power of a community when
it embraces difference.

Byrne’s status as an established artist now in his late sixties is also relevant to
American Utopia, especially since the production foregrounds his own fluctuating
perceptions as an aging artist. It seems clear that Byrne is not only interested in
actively listening to voices of the younger generation and the protests happening,
but that he wants to bring those voices directly into his vision for the future. Als
he says near the end of American Utopia, “Despite all that’s happened—despite all
that’s happening—there’s still possibility. As James Baldwin once said, ‘I believe
we can do with this country something that has not been done before.’” The
need for change is captured in the overall metanarrative of the work: despite
being a compilation of disparate songs, the production weaves together a clear
storyline of collective social possibility that results from restless times, providing
a positive message of tolerance and the power of shared experience to combat
fanaticism and “America first” policies indicative of the Trump era. Byrne evokes
his own status as an immigrant from Scotland and naturalized American citizen
alongside the immigrant status of many cast members in his band. “We are all
immigrants, and we couldn’t do this show without them.” This is the kind of
exaltation for the change America needs.

GILLESPIE / David Byrne and the Utopian Imagination  15

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The experience of seeing American Utopia has continued to remain with me
during and after the lockdown in the absence of live theatre, especially with
the timely release of Lee’s concert film, which echoed the feeling of live per-
formance even from my living room. Lee uses a dizzying number of camera
angles to capture the visuals, emphasizing the choreography and highly evolved
lighting design of the piece while also showcasing the presence of an audience,
especially by filming from behind the performers as well as from the back of
the house. When I saw the production live, I sat in the upper balcony of the
Hudson Theatre, which provided me with an aerial view of the stage. Das war
also a perspective captured in the film, and it brought me right back to that
embodied experience of being there. In a conversation I had with Parson, sie
told me this was her favorite angle to watch the show from because you get to
see everything: the movement, the lighting design on the stage, and the complex
patterns they create in unison.

The first set of songs in American Utopia—“Here,” “I Know Sometimes a Man Is
Wrong,” “Don’t Worry about the Government,” and “Lazy”—show Byrne isolated
on the stage, enhanced through lighting effects and blocking; in later numbers,
he connects with the entire cast, often moving in unison. By the time we get to
“Once in a Lifetime,” there is a distinctive shift in Byrne’s journey from the solo
to the communal as the entire audience is encouraged to stand up and dance.
In later songs, such as the pleasurably bizarre “Toe Jam,” Byrne steps out of
the spotlight altogether to allow other members of the cast to be featured. In
“Burning Down the House,” he becomes one with the ensemble as they parade
around the stage in various configurations (including a large “X” as seen from
über), signaling a collective revolution is happening as perceived divisions have
literally been crossed (out).

Nearing the end of the production, instruments are left offstage and the musi-
cians re-enter one by one to perform an a cappella version of the song “One
Fine Day.” Byrne’s closing monologue brings us back to the beginning of the
show to those neural connections in our brains that may have been broken or
severed: “Our brains can be re-established and can change. We are still works in
progress.” As the metal curtains rise up into the fly space, the show transforms
more fully into the realm of the utopian as the cast rests still in the space as a
single entity, harmonizing together:

Even though a man, is made of clay/ Everything can change, that one
fine day/ Then before my eyes, is standing still/ I beheld it there, a city

16  BLUME 129

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on a hill/ I complete my tasks, one by one/ I remove my masks, when I
am done/ Then a piece of mind, fell over me/ In these troubled times,
I still can see/ We can use the stars, to guide the way/ It is not that far,
that one fine day.

That the production is Byrne’s conceptual brainchild is clear from the outset,
but in it, he also expresses gratitude for his connections to and with others, Und
the collaborations required to realize any collective vision for the future. In How
Music Works, er schreibt: “There’s something special about the communal nature
of an audience at a live performance . . that isn’t analogous to the music heard
through headphones . . It’s a social event, an affirmation of community, and it’s
Auch, in some small way, the surrender of the isolated individual to the feeling
of belonging to a larger tribe.” After more than a year spent apart, these words
take on a deeper meaning than ever before.

Am Ende, American Utopia not only offers audiences a glimpse into the workings
of a singular artistic mind, but also the power of having a vision-in-progress for
a future inclusive of everyone. A final emphasis on Byrne’s utopian imagination
occurs in the curtain-call performance of “Road to Nowhere,” with lyrics that
continue to resonate now:

Well, we know where we’re goin’/ But we don’t know where we’ve been/
And we know what we’re knowin’/ But we can’t say what we’ve seen/ And
we’re not little children/ And we know what we want/ And the future is
certain/ Give us time to work it out

NOTES

1. David Byrne, How Music Works (San Francisco: McSweeney’s, 2012).

2. The full interview with Annie-B Parson can be found at https://www.forbes.com/sites
/jerylbrunner/2019/10/22/annie-b-parson-on-choreographing-david-byrnes-american
-utopia/?sh=1c2ee40c18f1.

3. More about the “We Are Not Divided” project is available at https://wearenotdivided.

reasonstobecheerful.world/.

4. More about the “Reasons to Be Cheerful” project is available at reasonstobecheerful

.Welt.

5. Video access to “American Utopia: Detroit” is available at http://davidbyrne.com/explore
/american-utopia/press/david-byrne-releases-everybodys-coming-to-my-house-video
-performed-by-detroit-students.

GILLESPIE / David Byrne and the Utopian Imagination  17

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BENJAMIN GILLESPIE is associate editor of PAJ and lecturer in theatre and
drama at NYU Tisch School of Drama, The New School, and Macaulay
Honors College, CUNY. His articles and reviews have appeared in Theatre
Zeitschrift, Performance Research, Theatre Survey, Modern Drama, SEITE, Theater
Research in Canada, and Canadian Theatre Review, along with several
anthologies. He is a PhD candidate in theatre and performance at The
Graduate Center, CUNY.

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18  BLUME 129David Byrne and the image
David Byrne and the image
David Byrne and the image

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