Play Out the Play!

A Moratorium on Shakespeare?

I know I've been posting a lot from the blogosphere lately, so forgive me for continuing to do so.  But this post from Praxis Theatre in Canada is directly pertinent to my work at the Woodward Shakespeare Festival. 

A theoretical moratorium on Shakespeare productions is 'proposed' and a very interesting discussion ensued in the comment section.  It eventually points to why some artists (and audiences, I imagine) avoid Shakespeare like the plague and offers some little insight about how artists producing classic works need to up the ante.  Below are some highlights from the discussion that I felt useful for me as an artist working with a Shakespearean company:

First from the initial post (which is, of course from another post at the Guardian UK):

"Every Shakespeare revival should treat the play as if it was brand new and the ink barely dry on the page, and until that happens and we have worked out how Shakespeare really can be our contemporary in 21st century Britain, maybe we should do him a favour and give him a rest.”

and then excerpts from the comments (seriously, go read them all. . . they're at turns amusing and intelligent):
a moratorium would prevent all of those productions that do treat Shakes with a breath of new life. It seems like a step towards a helpful idea, but let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater.

 stop picking stuff that's been made into movies over and over again, and I think we might see more interesting Shakespeare stuff.


The problem is that (most of) the artists hold the same depth of interest in the work as the audience. When the artists are basing their interpretations of Shakespeare on the reactions they have to other interpretations they've seen (i.e. the movies and legions of stuffy stage productions) rather than their reactions to the actual words, what can we expect but a downward spiral?


See, this is where we tread into touchy ground for me, because I'm as much in favor of supporting new work as the next guy, but 'new work' doesn't have to equal 'new words'. You can do new and innovative work in so many ways alongside of producing new plays.. . .Bottom line for me is a moratorium on shitty productions

There's a lot more bad art being created than good. Always has been, but history tends to forget the bad. It also serves to follow that this means there is a reason Shakespeare has survived. It's not the material, it's the artists reviving it. Give (dis)credit where it's due.

Though I wonder, is there anything about Shakespeare, in particular, that fosters the creation of bad art? Is it because it's so good that most people try and fail? Is it because it's so good that people assume its genius to be self-evident and therefor work less hard to unlock it? Or is it because some practitioners are attracted to Shakespeare's readymade audience, and those kinds of practitioners are more interested in making money than art?  (I have to chuckle at this one-- how many of the regional Shakespeare Festivals in North America are making a significant amount of money, I wonder?~Heather)

If you don't find Shakespeare accessible in the least, then you shouldn't be doing Shakespeare (not that I'm assuming you are). And that's not a value judgment; artists should create in the manner that best speaks to them. Too many artists are more concerned either about selling the Shakespeare crowd or doing some overblown idea of capital-T theatre (and nobody is more capital-T than Willy) than what they truly feel is a necessity to the spectrum of the theatrical world.

Some of the most moving times I've ever had at a theatre has been at Shakespeare plays. I've personally put a moratorium on Dream, R&J, Comedy of Errors, & Tempest; yet I broke it recently to see Tim Supple's Dream, and I regret never seeing Jonathan Crombie play Romeo at Stratford.

It doesn't seem like a ban is in order, just more artists doing like I am and not immediately jumping to direct/act in it. It is a different style, like the Greeks, and all too often the text seems to be at the mercy of some grand concept.
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So, what is it about Shakespeare that either makes people want to ban it or embrace it?  And how can we keep it from being "overcooked and sauced up like a bad entree", in the sentiments of Geoffrey Tennant on Slings and Arrows? 

Theatre Blog Reading- June 30

Below are some interesting posts in the theatre blogs I've read recently:  Read and consider. . .

As I See It:  Why We Need Critics

Criticism should not need ethical guidelines

Be Quiet! We're Making Progress!

Push/Pull: The Bitter with the Sweet

Theatre Code of Ethics. . . still greatly needed

This item has been making the rounds in the blogosphere over the last week and a half.  I saw it last week, but didn't get the chance to post it for my local readers.  Dating back to 1945, it still resonates today.  Now, probably more than ever in my experience.  The manifesto was written by actress Kathleen Freeman, who died in 2001 when she was appearing in The Full Monty (her number in that show, by the way, is my very favorite musical comment on showbiz, and I want to develop it for a musical audition piece).  She was only 24 years old at the time of the writing and she was establishing the the Circle Theatre in Los Angeles.

In the last few weeks, topics of conversation about local professionalism have been a theme in my theatrical life.  I know that it may seem like an oxymoron "local professionalism".  Most local actors are not theatrical professionals.  They have jobs and to many of their family members and friends, theatre is an all-consuming "hobby". 

But the fact is that whenever your hobby OR your livelihood depend upon so many people working in congress together, a code of ethics and professional behavior is absolutely necessary to get the job done. Without it, the periphery feelings muss up the whole picture-- thus emphasizing the importance of rule number 8:  "I shall forego the gratification of my ego for the demands of the play."

But even where ego isn't involved, sometimes the need for such a list comes from the bad habits and juvenile approach to the work of some actors (and directors, and designers. . . ).  I was lucky enough to have come across a book in my second year in the theatre department at College of the Sequoias, "An Actor Behaves" by Tom Markus.  I still reread the book regularly and pull from it for my cast contracts. 

But most other young or new actors to the scene don't have someone outlining this stuff for them.  They don't understand how the lack of a professional code of ethics diminishes the show and their appearance in it.  If they ever do come to understand, it may be too late. 

So I say to all of my local readers. . . please take what Ms. Freeman had to say seriously.  Consider this list.  Order a used copy of An Actor Behaves.  Then start making your own code of conduct for your productions.  It may seem like you're putting restrictions on something that is supposed to be "fun".  But the fun in theatre doesn't come getting to do what you want-- that's what vacation is for.  The fun in theatre comes from putting on exemplary, compelling work filled with professionalism. 

Props to Geoff Short for the article find. 
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A 1945 Code of Ethics for Theatre Workers Surfaces

Foreword to the Code

“A part of the great tradition of the theatre is the code of ethics which belong to every worker in the theatre.  This code is not a superstition, nor a dogma, nor a ritual which is enforced by tribunals; it is an attitude toward your vocation, your fellow workers, your audiences and yourself.  It is a kind of self-discipline which does not rob you of your invaluable individualism.

“Those of you who have been in show business know the full connotation of these precepts.  Those of you who are new to show business will soon learn.  The Circle Players, since its founding in 1945, has always striven to stand for the finest in theatre, and it will continue to do so.  Therefore, it is with the sincere purpose of continued dedication to the great traditions of the theatre that these items are here presented.”

The “rules” follow:
1.  I shall never miss a performance.

2.  I shall play every performance with energy, enthusiasm and to the best of my ability regardless of size of audience, personal illness, bad weather, accident, or even death in my family.

3.  I shall forego all social activities which interfere with rehearsals or any other scheduled work at the theatre, and I shall always be on time.

4.  I shall never make a curtain late by my failure to be ready on time.

5.  I shall never miss an entrance.

6.  I shall never leave the theatre building or the stage area until I have completed my performance, unless I am specifically excused by the stage manager; curtain calls are a part of the show.

7.  I shall not let the comments of friends, relatives or critics change any phase of my work without proper consultation; I shall not change lines, business, lights, properties, settings or costumes or any phase of the production without consultation with and permission of my director or producer or their agents, and I shall inform all people concerned.

8.  I shall forego the gratification of my ego for the demands of the play.

9.  I shall remember my business is to create illusion; therefore, I shall not break the illusion by appearing in costume and makeup off-stage or outside the theatre.

10.  I shall accept my director’s and producer’s advice and counsel in the spirit in which it is given, for they can see the production as a whole and my work from the front.

11.  I shall never “put on an act” while viewing other artists’ work as a member of an audience, nor shall I make caustic criticism from jealousy or for the sake of being smart.

12.  I shall respect the play and the playwright and, remembering that “a work of art is not a work of art until it is finished,” I shall not condemn a play while it is in rehearsal.

13.  I shall not spread rumor or gossip which is malicious and tends to reflect discredit on my show, the theatre, or any personnel connected with them—either to people inside or outside the group.

14.  Since I respect the theatre in which I work, I shall do my best to keep it looking clean, orderly and attractive regardless of whether I am specifically assigned to such work or not.

15.  I shall handle stage properties and costumes with care for I know they are part of the tools of my trade and are a vital part of the physical production.

16.  I shall follow rules of courtesy, deportment and common decency applicable in all walks of life (and especially in a business in close contact with the public) when I am in the theatre, and I shall observe the rules and regulations of any specific theatre where I work.

17.  I shall never lose my enthusiasm for theatre because of disappointments.

In addition, the document continued:
“I understand that membership in the Circle Theatre entitles me to the privilege of working, when I am so assigned, in any of the phases of a production, including:  props, lights, sound, construction, house management, box office, publicity and stage managing—as well as acting.  I realize it is possible I may not be cast in a part for many months, but I will not allow this to dampen my enthusiasm or desire to work, since I realize without my willingness to do all other phases of theatre work, there would be no theatre for me to act in.”

All members of the Circle Theatre were required to sign this document. And they must have—because the theatre, and the group into which it evolved, was successful for many years.

Theatre Awards: Yay or Nay?

So, it's been nigh on two years since my moderately infamous and marginally self-righteous dissention with the results of the Visalia Community Players Lizzie (Elizabeth Dobson) Awards in 2006.  Even all of the eventual fall out from that time and my now owning up to my share of the fault, I still don't regret that any of it happened.  I think it got people talking and thinking in a serious way about what kind of work we publicly approve, what kind of work we want to be about, and better defining both.  But it really did take being faced with a lot before any of us involved-- actors, directors, or theatre companies-- could bring ourselves to really take a look at those things.

And now time, the Lizzies, the VCP, and I have all moved on to other things and all seem the better for it.  But whenever that time comes in up conversation among my theatre friends, there is still a great deal of question about what we, as local theatre artists-- most of us likely to remain big fish in small ponds-- benefit from local awards. 


Here's a NYTimes article about regional theatre awards in the age of the Tony.

So, I ask you, gentle reader:  Should local arts communities have such awards?  Yay or Nay? (Support your answer with pithy insights and observations, says the former English teacher). 

Friction isn't a bad thing

A tremendously insightful post by Scott Walters (a U. of NC theatre prof) over at Theatre is Territory yielded this quote:

"The art form is best served by being populated with thoughtful artists who have thought deeply and critically about their own work. What passes for “being supportive” – focusing on the vague and general positive and not speaking criticism – doesn’t allow artists to grow and deepen. Artistic creativity benefits from being burnished, polished to a luster through friction. Without it, the result is rust."

The post is all about theatrical artists being willing to engage in critical discourse-- being willing to have some sense of peer review of work for the rigor and growth of the artform.  Too often people do not speak their opinions about what works and what doesn't for fear of reprisals down the road.  Friction is not a bad thing if people know how to utilize it and get the work done. 

My opinionated nature has certainly led to some backlash-- even some excommunication--, but I don't regret it.  I feel that I work best with people willing to be challenged and willing to fight for their own perspectives.  It's in that space that we achieve something larger than ourselves. 

Anyway, the whole post is located HERE, for your own reading pleasure. 

A page of local quotes on the value of theatre is in the sidebar to the right.  I'll add to it as things progress.
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Okay, my random thoughts about the value of theatre. . . especially for non-theatrical types.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT?

0 Ideas combined stylishly with entertainment.

0 Exploration of theme and meaning in life stories.

0 It’s about community experience with live performers.

0 It’s about immediacy of action.

WHY IS IT IMPORTANT?

0 Provides a communal, interactive experience of art and story-- as it is made.

0 If TV and Film can explore the more literal stories of our world, theatre explores the dreamworld of our humanity.

WHY ATTEND?

Other artists attend theatre for a variety of reasons: cross germination of ideas, immediacy of experience, emotional catharsis, blah blah blah.

Regular people, though. . . they attend the theatre because:

0 They want to be seen as “patrons of the arts”.

0 It makes them feel more cultured and intelligent than the average joe.

0 It’s a decently impressive date.

0 It’s “something different” for a night out.

0 For younger audiences, it separates them from the retail, “commercial” hobbies of their peers.

0 For older audiences, it is thought to be a safe, pleasant, “lovely evening”. 

Here’s the kicker: Theatre’s inherent value is that it doesn’t have to be ONLY the above.

What makes theatre valuable to everyone is that it can seem harmless and antiquated (and perhaps it often is), but it can also be very subversively DANGEROUS while remaining oddly accessible.

And I don’t mean ‘dangerous’ in just the revolutionary form of the word. While in some quarters of the world a theatre production yielding marches in the streets for political and societal change could be a good thing, I’m actually speaking more about danger in the personal sense. (And who doesn’t love a little personal danger now and then?)

When seeing a production, any audience member could be in danger of:

0 Having an unexpected emotion rise up within himself.

0 Having her imagination engaged to such an extent she’s suspended in a moment, leaving herself behind.

0 Seeing something completely unplanned happen on the stage.

0 Seeing something completely unpleasant happen on the stage.

0 Witnessing really brave actions and then feeling shameful for his own cowardice.

0 Witnessing something really cowardly on the stage and then feeling shameful for humanity’s cowardice.

0 Becoming alarmed by the events of the play, and then becoming angered.

0 Becoming saddened by the actions of the characters.

0 Feeling joyous at the revelations of love in the characters.

0 Experiencing something unpolished, unsanitized, and not approved by the FDA.

0 Having an audible response to the play in the middle of a group of silent strangers.

0 Realizing those silent strangers aren’t so different from themselves after all.

You see, when people come to the theatre, for whatever initial reason, they unknowingly risk feeling in myriad unexpected ways. And there’s little getting away from it once it starts. The actors are right there. All of these risks are heightened because it’s a live experience. They risk sharing an engrossing, real-time moment with performers and other audience members—all of whom are in the same room and part of the experience. And, they risk never having the same theatrical experience twice, so they have to grab it quick or it’ll be gone.

 

 

 

PS—that sort of risk is a major factor in appealing to sports fans for their live events.  Just think of theatre as a sports event for the literary-minded, and it makes a little more sense.

Why do we dig on it? Theatre's Value.

Theatre bloggers throughout North America are spending today tossing out ideas on the value of theatre in a multitude of forms.  I'm going to have to think on it for a bit, but I sent out the call to many local theatre practitioners hoping they'll also have a few words to say. 

In the meantime, check out what these very smart people have to say on the subject: 

The Next Stage:  How is Theatre Valuable

Theatre is Territory:  What is theatre good for?  (a compilation of quotes from blog posts)

Steve on Broadway:  What is the value of theatre?

Theatre for the Future:  Thought Attacks!

Theatre Forte:  Today we blog about value

Devilvet:  The value of theatre

I'll check back when I've formed a few thoughts and hopefully will have some thoughts from my local colleagues to post. 

~Heather

Rehearsal Progress

Well, we've only got two weeks of rehearsal left for "All's Red".  They really are going well and the cast is working very hard to make every moment count.  I think that it will be a good solid 45 minutes in seats, but I am at the point where I may be too close to really know. 

As I've reviewed my notes, though, I see that there are a number of things we've actually worked on and improved during the course of rehearsals.  We still have some things to work on, but it is encouraging to look back and see from where we've come. 

Here are some items that aren't specific notes from the show, but are rather notes to myself on creating style in theatre.  It's a hard, ephemeral thing to cultivate and is as much a product of the collaboration of actor, script, and director.  Here are some thoughts I've written down in the course of the last two months of working on the show:

If the gesture is separated from the truth of the character's circumstance and inner life, it produces artificial posturing. 

Style is content; a physical gesture is an emotion.  The actor must understand it and illustrate it in the truest fashion possible. 

Style is the distinctive way a production communicates.  It is "knowing the play you are in". 

All great acting, no matter the style, begins with a truthful inner life, an incandescence and brightness.  Any style or expression must maintain a connection to inner truthfulness-- even in its most mannered forms. 

And, scrawled across an entire page in my notebook:

How is your art in your life?  And how is your life in your art?

A question for us all, I guess. 

Beware of Precious

"The great thing about film is that it has a disposable element. You do it and it's done. That's a great thing to bring back to the theater, because sometimes it can get a bit precious. Just play it through, get rid of it. Don't play the grace notes, don't worry about them."  ~Brian Cox, Scottish actor

This is really something to think about in terms of making things compelling.  It may be the root of the feeling of complacency I often feel at the theatre-- like everyone up there is glossing things over, that things are a little too evenly orchestrated, too tentative, too pretty, precious. 

Don't get me wrong, a strong sense of style is an asset!  An aesthetic point of view that is complete and makes a statement is integral.  But when it comes to the acting, the best stuff is the stuff that has been polished so far down, you've taken the varnish off of the moment.  It shouldn't be shiny, it should expose the grain. 

I mean, precious.  Just the word brings up visions of my childhood bedroom with its pink walls and  eyelet canopy bed and white furniture with gold trimming.  How sweet!  How charming!   How Saved by the Bell!

Precious may be good for children, but adults need a more interesting diet.  Play a moment as a real thing, not a buttercream birthday cake.  But then, you'd have to be making theatre for more than juveniles to achieve such a thing. 

So remind me later:  Beware of Gollum Syndrome.  Beware of precious. 

Ditch the fragile ego bit

“While we as theatre artists may wish that our work be considered sacrosanct by virtue of our spent time and passion, the fact that we’re charging money for it makes it a consumer product, and as such we are accountable. So critics are invaluable to our audience, like it or not, and we need to develop a thicker skin about criticism. Be able to ditch the fragile ego bit and accept what is valuable in a review and discard what is not. It’s just an opinion anyway, and hopefully it’s an informed one from someone who loves the theatre.” ~Simon Ogden, theatreist.