Theatre Ideas

Once Size Doesn't Fit All

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 03:05:00 +0000

When you're stepping outside the well-trodden path and trying to create something new, you often have to find inspiration outside of the discipline itself. I tend to read books on local economics, environmentalism, and small business practices seeking analogous situations that might help to define this new pathway.

To that end, I am in the midst of reading Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way We Make Things, by William McDonough and Michael Braungart (highly recommended). The chapter "A Question of Design" has a segment entitled "One Size Fits All," in which the authors discuss the Industrial Revolution's underlying design assumption that "universal design solutions" (i.e., one size fits all) could be implemented to improve the world. They use the examples of International Style architecture and mass-produced detergent to illustrate the flaw in this orientation. I think it is worth quoting at length in order to fully understand that what has happened to the arts is not an isolated and unique historical development that was "organic" and "natural," but rather part of a larger social movement resulting of a particular way of relating to the world.

First, the International Style of architecture as developed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Walter Groupis, and Le Corbusier:

Their goals were social as well as aesthetic. They wanted to globally replace unsanitary and inequitable housing -- fancy, ornate palaces for the rich; ugly, unhealthy places for the poor -- with clean, minimalist, affordable buildings
unencumbered by distinctions of wealth or class. Large sheets of glass, steel, and concrete and cheap transportation powered by fossil fuels, gave engineers and architects the tools for realizing this style anywhere in the world.

However, the vision of the originators was debased by those who followed:

Today the International Style has evolved into something less ambitious: a bland, uniform structure isolated from the particulars of place -- from local culture, nature, energy, and material flows. Such buildings reflect little if any of a region's distinctness or style."...Buildings can look and work the same anywhere, in Reykjavik or Rangoon. (italics mine)

The photo is of the Aluminaire House, and it is, without a doubt, one of the ugliest things I've ever seen.

Shifting to detergent, the authors write:

Major soap manufacturers design one detergent for all parts of the United States or Europe, even though water qualities and community needs differ. For example, customers in places with soft water, like the Northwest, need only small amounts of detergent. Those where the water is hard, like the Southwest, need more. But detergents are designed so they will alther up, remove dirt, and kill germs efficiently the same way anywhere in the world -- in hard, soft, urban, or spring water, in water that flows into fish-filled streams and water channeled to sewage treatment plants."

In the interest of appealing to as large a market as possible, detergent is disconnected from its relationship to local conditions.

The arts have fallen prey to exactly the same one-size-fits-all approach, not only in mass-produced art such as television, popular music, and movies, but also in art forms that have an intrinsic local orientation, such as theatre and visual art. Plays, for instance, are designed to appeal to NYC audiences and critics. If they achieve a successful NYC run, then across the US regional theatres will produce their own versions during the next couple years, and twenty years later community theatres will do their own reproduction. But is it really true that the stories and styles that appeal to a New York audience will automatically be right for one in Asheville, NC or Lincoln, NE?

Let's think of this by analogy. Here are two pictures of places in the world:

Would these two places not lead, for instance, to very different paintings -- paintings that would be created using different palettes, different shapes, different rhythms, different styles, different brushstrokes, different techniques?

And yet when it comes to plays, we see plays such as Rent being performed in Peoria and witnessed by the ultimate New Yorker, Rocco Landesman, who will judge it according to New York values. We universalize those values, and disseminate New York stories as if, like the International Style architecture and mass-produced detergent, they are completely isolated from place, from local culure, traditions, history, and values. People in New Amery WI watch CSI: New York despite the fact that it bears no resemblance whatsoever to their reality. We have become so alienated from our specific place in the world that we no longer even notice that we have been colonized by urban values, urban rhythms, urban styles, urban stories. The gangsta rap music blasting from the car next to mine in downtown Marshall NC is likely to be owned by a farmer's son out on a Saturday night toot.

The natural outgrowth of this colonization is for the colonizer to see themselves as the pinnacle of quality, as the natural goal of all who labor in the arts. So nobody bats an eye when Rocco Landesman, visiting Peoria and seeing the aforementioned production of Rent, is noted as having observed "earlier in the day that amateur arts are worthwhile much in the same way that minor leagues and amateur sports have value in relation to the big leagues and professional sports." There is no recognition that local arts done by amateurs or pro-am artists might not give a tinker's damn about the self-identified "big leagues," that the local arts might be a vibrant end in themselves. And artists buy into this value system. Why? Because they are brainwashed with the ideas from a young age. More importantly, what should be commented on is not whether the Peoria production of Rent is "as good as" Steppenwolf ("I'm not going to let you trap me on that one," Landesman said transparently -- har har), but rather whether it makes any sense for Rent to be performed in Peoria at all.

When are areas outside of New York going to develop some pride, some sense of individual identity? When are they going to express themselves, instead of compulsively sneezing "Me too" after every artistic twitch on the East Coast? When is a visit to the theatre in different parts of the country going to be a unique experience, seasoned with local flavor and served with pride of place? When traveling, every tourist seeks an opportunity to experience the local cuisine, whether it is barbecue in Kansas City, gumbo in New Orleans, or kringle in Racine WI. But going to the theatre is like going to the mall -- once you're inside the doors, you could be anywhere.

University theatre programs need to stop teaching this generic approach, regional theatres need to reclaim their local roots, and artists need to wake up and reclaim their individuality.

Standards of Education

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 00:51:00 +0000

I just returned from a quick trip to Illinois to see my stepson, Jake Olbert, perform in Illinois State University's production of Into the Woods. It was a very strong production, marred only by a small amount of directorial tinkering. After the performance Friday night, the show, which was an Associate entry in the American College Theatre Festival, received a "response" from an ACTF rep from a school down the road.

I, myself, have been an ACTF Respondent many times over the course of my career, and had many of my shows adjudicated as well. It isn't an easy job. You see the show, take some quick notes in the dark as the show goes on, and ten minutes after the curtain comes down you face the assembled cast, crew, designers, and director to share your thoughts about the production.

No time for thought of reflection. It is made even more difficult by the attitude ACTF takes toward the response.

The attitude exhibited by ACTF is based on a deep fear of actual criticism, a fear that is endemic to the field as a whole. When you are a respondent, you are sent a document that

gives you guidelines for respondents. It includes a suggested "disclaimer" that might be shared with the assembled college students. It reads as follows:

I’m here representing the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival and I’m charged to respond to the performance I just experienced. I was not a part of the process that helped bring the play life, and I cannot comment on your growth in the work during that process but I can respond to what I just experienced as an informed member of the audience with a certain amount of training and experience as an artist and a teacher. I am not the art police, the oracle of theatre or the supreme authority on how this play works best in performance. Hopefully some of the things I’m about to say will resonate with the very fine training you are already receiving, and if so, please take my words to heart as the gifted and insightful comments of a remarkably astute theatre professional. On the other hand, if I say something you don’t agree with or you hear something that doesn’t resonate with what you’ve been hearing all through rehearsals, for heaven’s sake dismiss my remarks as the lunatic ravings of a sadly misguided schmuck with no discernable taste whatsoever. No matter what we say here in this session, you should in no way alter the choices that you and your director have so carefully built.

You can imagine the kind of mealy-mouthed responses that result from this approach to critique. It is the adult version of the undergraduate belief, trotted out whenever the issue of quality arises, that "what is good and bad is subjective." But if that is the case, then why do college departments pay $250 plus travel, lodging, and food to bring in someone from another university to provide feedback? After all, if he or she is "just one person," just an "informed member of the audience" and not, God forbid, an expert, then why not simply choose an audience member at random to stay after the show and give their impressions. I guarantee that they would at least be forthright, which is more than can be said about ACTF respondents.

What is ironic is that students, who know they are supposedly being prepared to go out, like lambs to the slaughter, into a profession with 87% unemployment, are hungry to hear an honest appraisal of their work. They want to hear what they did well, yes, but they also want to hear what they could have done better, because they want to have a chance when they graduate. Instead, what they get are airy generalities and gentle ego massages. It is a terrible disservice.

The response to Into the Woods followed this pattern to the letter. Everything and everybody, one at a time, was "wonderful," and the highest point of praise was that nothing happened that "took me out of the play." Consider the altitude of that particular bar: "you didn't do anything that took me out of the play." That this is worthy of notice, indeed that it serves as high praise, is an indication of the general level of college productions; that it is considered a critical insight is an indication of the general level of critical thinking by college theatre professors. I wish I could say that the level of discourse when the faculty talk amongst themselves is considerably higher -- informed by broad knowledge, deep experience, and careful reflection. But I can't.

We lack a common vocabulary, much less a common set of critical values. Most college professors, especially if they have been "trained" in an MFA program as most have, have spent their graduate education focused on the development of their own creative abilities -- period. They have spent 90% of their time doing plays, doing scenes, designing sets or costumes, cranking out production after production. They are never required to read broadly, develop critical thinking skills, clearly describe what they do, analyze their own work (both before and after it is done), develop a vocabulary and the skills that would allow them to learn from the work of others, see productions by masters, expose themselves to other art forms, or gain a knowledge of the world that would be deep enough to interpret a play by Kushner, Goethe, Shakespeare, Aeschylus, or whoever. What they are required to do...is plays. And then, when they do, they don't receive high level feedback.

Compare this to, say, college sports. A college football player or basketball player spends a lot of time doing, just like a theatre major, but the feedback they get is specific, demanding, and highly critical. Their performances are put under a microscope in the newspaper or on television after every game by experts, and fans don't hesitate to express their feelings about their work at the stadium, on the newspaper blogs, and in restaurants. If a coach comes in from another school to watch practice, that coach is likely to be brutally honest, because that's why he was brought in -- to improve the team. Most importantly, the coaches will share a common vocabulary and set of values that allow real communication to take place.

Compared to sports, the level of discourse in theatre departments across the country, even the most so-called prestigious, is woefully backward. It isn't only, as Tom Loughlin writes in his brutally frank discussion of "The Artist / Educator Gap," that theatre education provides students with "a skill set that is rapidly becoming outmoded and does not give young artists the tools they need to continue being artists," although that is bad enough, but that even these outmoded skills are being poorly taught by people who haven't taken the time to really understand what they are doing. All they've done is put on plays. That many of these professors have the temerity to include these productions on their annual reports as "scholarship or creative activity" shows a total lack of understanding of what scholarship really is.

Scholarship involves joining an ongoing conversation, making a new and original contribution, having that contribution reviewed by qualified peers, and making those findings public. If theatre teachers at the college level held themselves to the same standards as other disciplines, and felt they were responsible for making each production a contribution to the field, and felt responsible to communicate their findings to the field -- well, maybe American theatre programs wouldn't be so amateurish, and as a result maybe the American theatre scene wouldn't be so relentless superficial and inept. And maybe artists wouldn't be so resentful of their college professors. (All one needs to do is play the song "Nothing" from A Chorus Line in front of a group of actors to understand the full extent of the residual anger.) The fact is that the students know instinctively that they have been ripped off, that their professors are more concerned with their own egos than with helping them grow as artists and human beings (yes, those things are equally important), and that they have been either coddled through four years of college (and three years of grad school), or arbitrarily abused by unreflective egotists who haven't the faintest idea what they are doing but nevertheless do it loudly and with bone-jarring force.

The theatre is probably second only to opera in the complexity of the demands it makes on its artists. It deserves a professoriat worthy of those demands.

The Rareness of Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:52:00 +0000

I received an email today promoting the new American Theatre 25th anniversary anthology. It reads:

“This is truly a special occasion,” said Teresa Eyring, TCG Executive Director. “The magazine’s coverage over 25 years offers a depth and diversity of perspective that goes unmatched in any single theatre publication. To be able to draw from that remarkable body of work to create The American Theatre Reader is a special gift that can’t be replicated.”

“These pieces offer insights not just into the history of contemporary American theater but also into the way artists and producers think -- a rare intimacy. “
---Charles McNulty, LA Times

Wow. "These pieces offer insights....into the way artists and producers think -- a rare intimacy." If McNulty is right, the "rareness" of this intimacy is a 25 year condemnation of artists and producers within the American theatre. Simply making art isn't enough. It is the responsibility of the artist to speak about the work, to write about the work, to contribute insights to the development of the field. The largely trivial nature of the last 25 years of theatre stands as a testament to the lack of ideas and the lack of communication.

By Analogy: Alexander Chee on Annie Dillard

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 17:57:00 +0000

This has nothing at all to do with theatre or theatre education, and everything to do with theatre and theatre education. It also has something to do with blogging -- the communication of ideas through words. This essay by Alexander Chee describes his experience taking a writing class with Annie Dillard. Please use the comments as a discussion thread: how does this apply to what we do? The essay is entitled "Annie Dillard and the Writing Life," and it was posted on October 16th at "The Morning N ews." (Big h/t to Patti Digh at 37days)

Comment Moderation Now Turned On

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 14:49:00 +0000

To those who think that rude, ad hominem attacks are worthwhile, I suggest you keep them on your own blogs. On this blog, they will no longer be approved. Period. Next topic of conversation.

Tom Loughlin on Quality

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 20:02:00 +0000

Over at A Poor Player, Tom Loughlin has written an excellent post entitled "A Question of Quality," in which he worries about his increasing crankiness with the general level of mediocrity he sees in theatre -- mediocrity that insists it be treated as excellence. What troubles Tom, and is of particular interest on for those of you following the development of the CRADLE(arts) philosophy, is how the issue of "quality" plays out within a commitment to participatory arts. What "keeps me from fully embracing a retreat from the concept of the “professional artist,” Tom writes, "is my fear that, given the propensity of 21st century society to raise the mediocre to the level of excellence, there will soon be no excellence at all." He goes on: "The question of quality is one that I think is tiptoed around when we speak about participatory arts. When we work to open the arts to all (an idea I fully support), in this current cultural mindset we run the risk of reducing the quality of art. When everyone can get a hamburger from McDonald’s, they begin to think that McDonald’s makes a pretty good hamburger. We know that dedication, full-time commitment, experience, and an intense passion for excellence can create high quality, and that is what we have traditionally meant by “professional artist.” Trying to ascertain what is the best process and best practices we can put into place to increase participatory arts while at the same time maintaining high quality will be the trickiest part of the entire enterprise."

The issue of quality is one that has plagued arts criticism for millenia: what makes something "good"? What if one critic "likes" something and another doesn't -- doesn't that mean that the concept of quality is "all subjective"? What if one era dismisses something, but a later era loves it -- or vice versa?

When the term "quality" is introduced into the participatory arts / community-based arts discussion, it is usually used as a way to suggest that amatuer artists don't (indeed, can't) create work with a "quality" as high as that made by a professional whose "dedication, full-time commitment, experience, and... intense passion for excellence" gives them a greater likelihood of achieving excellence. Indeed, in Malcolm Gladwell's wonderful book Outliers, he devotes most of an entire chapter to the "10,000 hour rule," which says that, no matter what it is, you have to do it for 10,000 hours before you are truly able to make a lasting contribution. The most memorable example he gives is The Beatles, whom Gladwell argues benefitted from the 8-hours-a-day gigs required of them when they were playing in clubs in Hamburg. It's a persuasive argument. On the other hand, Charles Leadbeater and Paul Miller make an equally persuasive argument in The Pro-Am Revolution. They write: "From astronomy to activism, from surfing to saving lives, Pro-Ams - people pursuing amateur activities to professional standards - are an increasingly important part of our society and economy. For Pro-Ams, leisure is not passive consumerism but active and participatory, it involves the deployment of publicly accredited knowledge and skills, often built up over a long career, which has involved sacrifices and frustrations."

Let's start with a quibble: I don't like the use of the word "quality" in this argument, mainly because it is too broad, too difficult to define. I have the same problem with its synonym "excellence," which I too often see as being defined as "those things I think are good." The characteristic that Loughlin is defining as "quality," I suspect, I'd be more comfortable calling "virtuosity," meaning "technical skill, fluency, or style." If we use that word, then I am more willing to admit that an amateur might be less likely to have put in Gladwell's 10,000 hours to develop virtuosity. (Although this is not always the case -- there are many people who devote as much time as do professionasl to their art, while not making their living at it. I question the linkage of virtuosity and money making, but that's probably best left for another discussion.)

However, I think virtuosity is only one part of "quality," and perhaps not the most important one. Virtuosity is something that is contained within the artist, and expressed through the work of art. It stands alone. For me, however, quality is an interaction, it is something that is created between an work of art and its audience.

A work of art can exhibit virtuosity, but fail to connect to its audience in any way. For example, a concert pianist might be a virtuoso playing a Mozart concerto, but if he performs before an audience for whom the Western tonal system is foreign and meaningless, then for me the performance lacks "quality." On the other hand, a story told by someone who lacks virtuosity, but whose story connects to its audience in a powerful, immediate way, for me, is a higher "quality" performance. In other words, "quality" exists not in the work of art or performance itself, but in the experience of the art by a specific audience.

Which brings me to what I consider more important than virtuosity: authenticity or genuineness. The characteristic of being "free from pretense, affectation, or hypocrisy; sincere:; or "Honestly felt or experienced: genuine devotion." This is a characteristic that exists both within the artist and the audience. The works is genuinely felt by the artist and authentically experienced by the audience. To me, more than anything else, this is what leads to a "high quality" performance -- the authentic communication of a genuine emotion or idea from artist to audience.

Sometimes, authenticity is enhanced by virtuosity -- for instance, think of when you watch figure skating in the Winter Olympics and you have been informed how difficult a particular move is and how long the skater has been working on it. When that skater successfully executes that move, you as an audience share in his or her authentic emotion and you appreciate the sheer virtuosity of what was accomplished. But all too often, virtuosity becomes an end in itself, and it stands between the audience and the epxerience. The form has taken precedence over the content, and the result is an empty experience and a lower "quality" experience for the audience. For example, much modernist art is incomprehensible to the average spectator, and while it may exhibit a high level of virtuosity, the experience is one of bafflement.

Would that experience be improved by a degree of knowledge, so that one might appreciate the technique? Absolutely, and such knowledge might release the authentic emotion contained within the virtuosity. But again, that rests not in the virtuosity itself, but in the interaction between audience and work of art. Which in turn means that the "quality" of a work of art changed with each audience.

Like Tom, I find most theatre that I see mediocre at best. But for me, it isn't because it lacks virtuosity, but rather that it lacks genuineness -- I don't believe it, I don't feel it. It doesn't speak to me, because I have no connection to the artist, the story he or she tells has little connection to my life, and all the virtuosity in the world won't bridge that gap.

Obviously, the ideal is to combine virtuosity and authenticity. The question is which element is primary. For me, a work of art needs to first be authentic; virtuosity is frosting on the cake.

Inexplicable Dumbshow Interview

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 18:42:00 +0000

The good guys at The Inexplicable Dumbshow have posted the podcast interview they did with me last week. Check it out, and while you're there, check out all the other great stuff they do.

In Praise of Theatre Bloggers

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 15:20:00 +0000

Recently, Tom Loughlin posted a link to a a short video of director and Group Theatre co-founder Harold Clurman from the documentary Harold Clurman: A Life of Theatre, which coincidently I had just showed to the students in my Directing II class. I urge you to not only watch the snippet Tom posted, but to locate the entire documentary to watch, as it will provide your with inspiration and, perhaps, a renewed sense of purpose.

Clurman was a passionate believer in the power and importance of the theatre. He helped found the Group Theatre not because he was trying to promote his career, but because he felt strongly about what role a theatre ought to play in the American culture. If you watch Loughlin's clip, you can see how, at the age of 80, he still had the fire -- a fire that comes through most powerful in the moment that follows his condemnation of the mediocrity of our culture, when he says, with what seems to me red-rimmed eyes, "This always makes me angry."

Me too. Me too.

To me, Clurman ought to be a model for all young artists. And not simply because he was an excellent director who founded and important theatre, but because he had a strong sense of his responsibility to the art form as well. yes, he directed many important productions, but he also was a critic, an author, a speaker, and a professor at CUNY. The Collected Works of Harold Clurman, which sits on the shelf right in front of my computer, runs to over 1000 pages, and that doesn't even include his full-length books such as the inimitable Fervent Years. It wasn't enough that he just "do the work," he felt that it was important that he write about it, convey his ideas to others, work to advance the field. Aside from Tony Kushner, what contemporary artists are making a similar attempt?

Well, as far as I'm concerned, the answer is: the theatre bloggers. The majority of them are artists trying, like Clurman, to create worthwhile works of art. At the same time, they freely contribute their time to make sense of what is happening in the world of theatre, writing post after post, arguing with each other, theorizing and criticizing. Someone like George Hunka, for instance, has not only written and directed plays, but has also written erudite blog posts linking up contemporary theatre with the great thinkers and art works of modernism. Isaac Butler, Matt Freeman, and Don Hall contribute thousands of words each week. Newer bloggers, too many to mention (a few: Chris Ashworth, Travis Bedard, Bob Fisher, Ian Moss) bring their own insights into the conversation. And a few of us older academics -- Tom Loughlin, Andrew Sullivan, and I -- throw our oars in as well.

What often gets lost in posts such as David Cote's call to action is that this activity is a true contribution to the art of the theatre, a contribution made in moments stolen from lives that are already chock full of day jobs, art making, and everyday living. It is truly heroic, like Clurman's heroic life. And while from time to time things may get tired in the theatrosphere, and may not be as consistently insightful as some would wish, nevertheless these bloggers are the keepers of the flame. Most of the well-known theatre artists have abrogated this responsibility, choosing instead to focus on their own careers while feeling no responsibility to advance the field or to represent it to the larger society. In a time when the internet allows such artists to bypass the mainstream press and communicate directly with the world, most make no attempt to do so, leaving the field to flounder.

And so I take this opportunity to salute the theatre bloggers. Thank you for your work.

Be Careful What You Wish For

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:54:00 +0000

I am up for "post-tenure review" this fall, and while I was putting together my dossier, I decided I wanted to mention the impact of my blogging on my career the last four years. I mentioned, for instance, that my NEA grant would have never happened without the blog, and that my ideas wouldn't have been as polished had they not gone through the burnishing of my fellow bloggers. Anyway, I remembered that Chris Wilkinson had said something nice about my blog after I announced I was shutting it down, and I wanted to quote him in my PTR cover letter, so I went to "Noises Off" and did a search on my name. Imagine my surprise when I found a post on July 29th, two months after I had stopped writing Theatre Ideas, entitled "Fighting Talk on Theatre Blogs." I knew I hadn't been fighting, so I was curious why my name was mentioned.

In it, Chris summarizes the "controversy" over David Cote's article in TONY in which he called on bloggers to "Engage/enrage." As someone who has engaged Cote only a few times (most of them enraging), I was sort of tickled to see him calling out the slumbering theatrosphere, something I had occasionally done as well. As Pink Floyd once said, "Is there anybody out there?"

Reading further, I found out, to my amazement, that the reason I was mentioned was, in fact, that I was to blame for the sleepiness of the theatrosphere (well, me and George Hunka). "Why have things been so quiet?," Chris asked rhetorically. "Partly, it seems, it is because some of the blogosphere's more combative, abrasive voices have either moved on or mellowed out." Ahem. He then went on to quote Matt Freeman, who wrote on his blog, "So...has the blogosphere been dull lately? I'd give that a big yes. Scott Walters has gotten a grant and left his New York bashing ways behind, although we did give each other a pair of parting middle fingers before stopped writing Theatre Ideas." While I don't remember giving Freeman the bird, I suppose it happened -- I'm certain it was done with great respect and affection, as always. However, that the disappearance of a couple bloggers should lead to nap time in the theatrosphere amazed me. Who knew that George and I were so damned important -- not to mention combative and abrasive (OK, I knew that part) -- that in our quietude we were damning the theatrosphere to zombihood? Especially when Don Hall was still around raising the banner of abrasiveness.

But after I read Wilkinson's piece, well... I just couldn't bear carrying that guilt any longer. I decided it was time, after a five month hiatus, to open the windows, remove the sheets from the furniture, and open Theatre Ideas for business once again. It's the least I can do. On my CRADLE(arts) blog, I will continue to address issues concerning the arts in small and rural communities. And I also plan to soon create a blog concerning theatre and arts education in higher education. I'll just be a blogging fool...(wait for it). But dang it, I'm feeling sort of abrasive and combative (George, are you feeling pretentious and self-aggandising, and ready to drop a few quotes?). Maybe I'll engage and enrage somebody. I just hate so much quiet! Don, I'll let you throw out the first douchebag.

Oh, and for those of you who wish I'd kept the windows shuttered: direct your complaints to . Chris Wilkinson and David Cote. How could I ignore a call from New York and London, the two capitols of the theatre world?

Conversation on the NEA

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 15:15:00 +0000

For the past couple of weeks, there has been a conversation (well, a series of statement laid out to look like a conversation) on "Barry's Blog" for the Western States Arts Federation concerning the NEA. Participants have included Steve Tepper (Engaging Arts), Ben Cameron (Doris Duke, former TCG), Ian Moss (Creatiquity), Patrick Overton (Front Porch Institute), Doug MacLennan (ArtsJournal.com) and many, many others including yours truly. To give a taste, I am pasting one of my contributions below, and there are many others that are well worth commenting on, both at Barry's Blog and on your own (should you be a blogger).

In response to Barry's question "What would you like to see the Endowment accomplish? What policies should govern its actions? What should be its priorities? If you were to advise Rocco Landesman on what the agenda for the NEA should be --what would you tell him?"

SCOTT: First, I think the NEA should completely stop giving money to mega-institutions like Steppenwolf and Lincoln Center – those institutions that previous responders have noted currently have captured the NEA. Why? Because those organizations don’t need it. That little splash of NEA money disappears in the ocean of their multi-million dollar annual budgets without a trace. Instead, use the money where it will have a serious impact: small and midsize institutions in out-of-the-way places. New York City, Chicago, and Los Angeles are rolling in dough; but hand out a decent grant in Paducah KY or Amery WI and watch things happen. It’s a big country, and most of it isn’t comprised of places with a million people. They deserve the arts, too.

Second, the NEA should make it clear that its focus isn’t on the artists, isn’t on the institutions, but is on its constituency, which is the American public. The focus should be on inspiring creativity in the public (see my comment on arts education), and that might, of course, involve “providing” works of art, but it also might involve facilitating creativity in the Average Joe. If they want public money, artists should be servants to the greater good, not special, privileged people whose only commitment is to their inner muse. If you take public money, you are a public servant. It is time that artists recognize that.

Finally, the NEA needs to swallow hard and recognize that its main contribution should be in promoting the arts of today, not the constant reinterpretation of works from the past. Antonin Artaud said it: no more masterpieces. We need to tell our own stories in a language that speaks to today’s audience about today’s life. There are plenty of foundations out there who will fund Shakespeare and Mozart, but the NEA needs to be funding institutions that are committed to finding and developing our own artistic worldview. Prior to the 20th century, the focus was on new work, not old – and as a result, we got Aeschylus, Shakespeare, Mozart, Beethoven, Michelangelo and Leonardo. In the 21t century, what does America have? Aeschylus, Shakespeare, Mozart, Beethoven, Michelangelo and Leonardo. We are an echo culture, not an originating one. That has to change.

Hello, I Must Be Going

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Tue, 26 May 2009 13:44:00 +0000

Dear Readers -- This will be the last post for Theatre Ideas. It isn't that I'm going to quit blogging, but rather I am moving my shingle to the 100K Project blog (http://lessthan100k.wordpress.com/), where I will focus completely on the issues and ideas that connect to theatre in small and rural communities. "Focus" is the important word in that sentence. It is important to me that I focus my energy on the iniative that I am most passionate about, and that the NEA has acknowledged as making a contribution to the field. There are many, many others who will continue to write about the other aspects of the theatre and arts scene, so I do not feel as if my voice will be greatly missed.

Theatre Ideas and those who have read it both have served me well. Over the almost four years I've been writing here, I have developed and burnished my ideas about theatre. I owe this almost entirely to those who have engaged me in discussion. To those who have disagreed with me, sometimes angrily, I have learned a great deal about style, about persuasion, about vision. Yes, there were times when things got a little out of control and overly personal, but that happens when people realy care about something, and when they are looking closely at values and beliefs. Joshua James, Don Hall, George Hunka, Bob Fisher, Matt Freeman and Isaac Butler -- you all challenged me to seek more clarity, more evidence, more commitment.

There were others who helped through their support, and who added their ideas to my own to make even stronger amalgams. Dennis Baker, Laura Axelrod, Mike Lawler, Mike Daisey, Playgoer -- when the onslaught seemed a bit overwhelming, it was always good to see your name appear in the comments, or an email appear in my inbox.

If I have forgotten anyone, I sincerely apologize -- there are so many of you who have contributed over the years.

Many of you will remember that I have shut this blog down before, and returned to blogging thereafter, and of course I reserve the right to do so. However, in this case I am not giving up blogging, simply shifting to a new community of readers who share my orientation. If that describes you, I hope you will follow me to http://lessthan100K.wordpress.com

Unless a compelling issue arises that is inappropriate for the 100K Project blog, then future posting will be sparse to non-existent.

Again, thanks to everyone, and I wish you all the best luck possible in building a creative and fulfilling life in this challenging and rewarding art form. I hope you'll keep me informed.

To those of you interested: the next bus for 100K Project leaves in 5 mins.

Playgoer on Bart Sher

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 21 May 2009 01:11:00 +0000

Gossip aside, though, there is a larger question: what do we make of jetsetting regional theater Artistic Directors who spend more time in NYC than in their "home" town? Lord knows, there have been several. Jack O'Brien ran a veritable Broadway empire for years out of the Old Globe. Ditto Des McAnuff at LaJolla. (And now at Canada's Stratford Festival.)

Kind of reminds me of Mike Daisey's image in "How Theater Failed America" of NY actors being freeze-dried and flown into random cities for their six weeks before being sent back to NY. If our "regionals" need to build stronger bonds with their local communities, shouldn't it start at the top? With Artistic Directors truly living and working there year-round?

Amen, Playgoer, amen.

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Network of Ensemble Theatres Conference

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 21 May 2009 00:24:00 +0000

I'll be there. If you will be, let me know!

NETWORK OF ENSEMBLE THEATERS Promotional Video from Bruce France on Vimeo.

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A Final Thought on the NEA Chair

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Fri, 15 May 2009 12:43:00 +0000

One more thought: having someone serve as Chair of the National Endowment for the Arts whose name is Rocco is worth its weight in gold.

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Theatre As Baseball

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Fri, 15 May 2009 12:41:00 +0000

Travis Bedard hits one out of the park with his latest post "Is This heaven? No, It's Iowa." Give it a read.

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Fingers Crossed

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 14 May 2009 16:17:00 +0000

This gathering of sixty artist-activists from around the country recently at the White House, perhaps timed to coincide with the nomination of Rocco Landesman as Chair of the NEA, is an excellent sign that the Obama Administration understands the role the arts could play in our nation. I am pleased to see Dudley Cocke (Roadside Theatre / Appalshop) and Linda Frye Burnham (Community Arts Network http://www.communityarts.net) among the gathering. Read about it at Alternet.org in the article "Forget Tech for a Sec, How Will the Arts Help the Obama Administration?"

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Rocco Landesman as NEA Chair

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Wed, 13 May 2009 13:58:00 +0000

Apparently, theatre producer Rocco Landesman has been nominated as Chair of the National Endowment for the Arts. He is an interesting choice, and one that I have mixed feelings about.. I remember reading Act Two: Creating Partnerships and Setting Agendas for the Future of the American Theatre, and he seemed to be one of the few voices who saw the increasingly snuggly relationship between the regional theatres and Broadway as disturbing. Isaac notes a similar orientation when he was on a post-How Theatre Failed America panel and Landesman said ""I realized when we were doing Caroline or Change on Broadway as a commercial production and a non-profit was doing Barefoot in the Park that something was deeply wrong." I have a sense that Landesman has a clear and strong opinion of how the regional, non-profit theatre ought to be different than a commercial production. Furthermore, many of the plays he has brought to Broadway have been excellent, including the aforementioned Kushner musical and Angels in America.

My uneasiness, perhaps predictably, is with his seeming NY-centricity. It is my sincere hope that Dana Gaoia's support for geographical diversity for the arts will continue to be championed by Landesman. If the NEA is going to receive the funding it deserves, it will have to reach out to all of the states and districts in this nation, and not only those in the Northeast and in the urban areas. I also hope that Landesman will use his bully pulpit to lead both the public and the arts themselves. I hope he will speak and write extensively, and provide a sense of direction for the arts in the country.

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Congratulations to Dennis Baker!

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Mon, 11 May 2009 12:08:00 +0000

From Dennis Bakers' Facebook page: "

Caroline Grace Baker. Born 6:32am, 5lbs 1oz. Mom and Baby are going well. Caroline is breathing on her own, but hanging out in the NICU for fun."

Welcome, Carolina, and congratulations Dennis and Karen!

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SF and TCG Follow Up

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Fri, 08 May 2009 18:53:00 +0000

Melanie Colburn, who sent me the original email about the study of San Francisco Bay Area theatre community that I wrote about here, has followed up with more information that may be helpful in this discussion. I appreciate Ms. Colburn's efforts. She writes:

After reading the interesting discussion that’s followed, I think a few clarifications are in order on the media alert and the fiscal snapshot report I sent Scott.

The “Taking Your Fiscal Pulse” snapshot provides the first comprehensive look of how the Bay Area not-for-profit theatre community is faring since the economic downturn.

Instead of scaling back on performances or staff, independent San Francisco theater companies are returning to their mission to connect with their donors and stakeholders. They are doing this both through reinvigorating time-honored methods of donor cultivation and embracing new social-networking technologies for the first time.

A few clarifications, in response to some of the posts above:

- The data represents a snapshot survey of independent not-for-profit theatre companies in the San Francisco Bay Area. So yes, smaller companies are well represented.

- The report shows companies are using more new media and social networking tools as a way to engage their supporters—and, yes, finally discovering facebook!

This is a first step in engaging stakeholders with new technology and much experimentation and learning is, no doubt, underway.

- The report also shows that the theatre community is also doing more hand holding with donors, cultivating the personal relationships that are at the heart of their mission.

- This is just a sampling of the findings and much more is contained in the full report.

Theatre Bay Area and TCG hope that other regions and theatre communities can learn from the survey. The full report is accessible for download online at: http://www.theatrebayarea.org/_docs/_data/Fiscal%20Pulse%20Report_Bay%20Area_20090427.pdf

A more comprehensive report will be released in the fall (September/October).

And my apologies to Scott for any missteps! You and your community of readers here are exactly the people whose insight and thoughts on the report we are most looking forward to.

Now, aren't you ashamed of yourself, Mr. Walters?

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Amen

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Wed, 06 May 2009 21:31:00 +0000

Let art begin at home, and let it spread through the children and their parents, and through the schools and the institutions and through government. And let us start by acceptance … that the arts are important everywhere, and that they can exist and flourish in small places as well as large … according to the will of the people. Let us put firmly and permanently aside the cliché that the arts are a frill. Let us accept the goodness of art where we are now, and expand its worth in the places where people live.

—Robert Gard, “The Arts in the Small Community,” 1968

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Wanted: Small Theatre Photos

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Wed, 06 May 2009 21:00:00 +0000

Folks -- As part of the <100K Project, I would like to start gathering information about theatre taking place in spaces not originally intended for performance. I'm particularly interested in small facilities (say, less than 100) that have solved a problem in a creative way. For instance, LaMoine MacLaughlin, founder of the Northern Lakes Center for the Arts, writes in his article "Let Art Begin at Home: The Amery Story" about their search for a place to use as the performance space for the arts center orchestra. They were looking at a 100-year-old church that had been through several owners.

"Although the acoustics were excellent, the sanctuary that we envisioned as our proscenium stage had been raised almost six feet by the Ford dealership [that had previously owned the building] so that automobiles could be driven into the building for repairs; it was too high for our performance needs. We wanted to seat 100 people for our concerts, but that seemed impossible and remodeling to that extent would be cost-prohibitive to us." Then he attended a performance of the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra that took place in " the Colonial Church in Edina, one of the wealthier suburbs [of the Twin Cities]. The venue is very intimate; you can almost reach out and touch the performers and the audience is seated on three sides of the orchestra. That performance sparked a question in our minds: what if we looked at the church in Amery in a new light? What if we arranged the audience around three sides of what would be an arena stage with the fourth side as a balcony in the raised sanctuary? We measured and found we could seat 75 people around the three sides, with 25 in the balcony. We had our 100 seats! Voila! And it would be a much more interesting performance facility than the common proscenium venues found everywhere."

I'd like to collect pictures and/or descriptions of other small spaces like this. If you have something, email it to me at swalters at unca dot edu

Thanks!

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SF and TCG

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Wed, 06 May 2009 18:18:00 +0000

I just received an email that reads as follows:

Theatre Bay Area (TBA) and the Theatre Communications Group (TCG) recently released new data from a snapshot of the San Francisco Bay Area’s theatre community that I thought you might want to share on your blog.

“Taking Your Fiscal Pulse: A Report on the Fiscal Health of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Community” (attached as PDF)

Among other findings, the report reveals that in the face of economic adversity theatre companies are returning to their mission. Instead of scaling back, companies are embracing new social networking tools to develop personal relationships with their stakeholders.

The Snapshot report provides preliminary findings; a more comprehensive report will be coming out in the fall (September/October).

Now, there's part of me that wants to make another crack about the TCG's recent discovery of Facebook, and how this report (or at least this email about this report) apparently sees it as the savior for a failed business model. Oops! I guess I did make another crack... But seriously, does anyone else think that sentence is weird: instead of scaling back, SF theatres are using Twitter more? Wha? And does anyone really think that Twitter and Facebook really "develop personal relationships"? And "stakeholders"? Stakeholders???

Anyway, if you want the report, email me and I'll send it as an attachment. It might actually have info that is useful, who knows?

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Tom Loughlin on Inertia in Theatre Education

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Tue, 05 May 2009 13:24:00 +0000

Tom Loughlin's production of Romeo and Juliet is over, and he is back writing blog posts again. He has written one about the death of Augusto Boal, noting the media silence surrounding it (I hope to write something about Boal and Theatre of the Oppressed soon -- right after I get my grades submitted). He has also written a pointed analysis if the current situation in theatre and theatre education entitled "If It's Broke, Don't Fix It." Here's a taste, but go read the whole thing:

Theatre? As broken as anything can get.

Yet there seems to be very little will or ability to fix broken things anymore. Take educational theatre. It’s broken because it trains students for a broken profession while simultaneously breaking their personal financial situations by leaving them thousands of dollars in debt with no practical way of recovering their money. This piece of news seems not have reached theatre departments, but even if it had, theatre departments have too much invested in what they currently do to ever change.

Sometimes it’s not even a question of finding solutions. In many cases the solutions are out there just waiting to be implemented. I think it goes deeper than that. We, as a culture, seem to have a deep affinity towards inertia. We want things comfortable. We want things to be predictable. We want them to be the same. And we do not want to have to do the hard work involved in maintenance. Consensus seems harder than ever to achieve.

I might argue, as does he later in the post, that maintenance is less required than a complete reinvention,. His analogy comes from thr world of baseball:

What theatre needs is a to undergo a change something along the lines of Rick Ankeil of the St. Louis Cardinals. a big-time prospect as a pitcher who posted a record of 11 wins and 7 losses with 194 strikeouts and a 3.50 ERA in his rookie year 2000. Inexplicably, he became unable to throw a strike, and after Tommy John surgery and other injuries, he re-constructed himself as an outfield and hitter. In the 2008 season he hit .264, had 25 home runs and 71 runs batted in over 413 at bats. It’s all about the adjustments.

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Great Post By 99 Seats

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Mon, 04 May 2009 15:57:00 +0000

For those of you who want to change things without burning down and starting over, and who responded to Isaac's call for practicality, 99 Seats offers a series of excellent suggestions that, if followed, could actually make a difference: "You Say You Want a Revolution? Or Seven Concrete Steps." Tell him Scott sent you...

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The REAL NEA Announcement

noreply@blogger.com (Scott Walters) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 18:14:00 +0000

Back on April 1st, I posted that I had received an NEA grant for my Less Than 100k Project. At the time, several of my readers suspected an April Fool's prank, and they were likely strengthened in this opinion from the post disappearing from my blog a few days later. Actually, what I had discovered was that I was not supposed to announce anything until there was an official press release by the NEA on April 30th -- today. Here is the official NEA release and the list of theatre awards. I am very honored to have been even considered for this, much less to have actually received it. It is my hope that this funding will lead to the creation of many theatres in small and rural communities across America, who are underserved by the mainstream theatre.

While there seem to be quite a few community-agnostics and -atheists among the theatre blogging community, and many more who feel as if the connection between artists and their community should be weak or nonexistent, I have great belief in the power of the arts to change lives, to grow and support communities, and to foster a better world. However, I think that that power comes from not only being an arts consumer, or even primarily from being one, but from being a participant in the arts as well. That's why the focus of the Less Than 100k will be on artists and community together.

I look for inspiration to people and places like LaMoine MacLaughlin at the Northern Lake Center for the Arts in Amery WI, Caryn Leake with CHOAS in Ottawa IL, Patrick Overton at the Front Porch Project in New Richmond WI, the Ukiah Players in Ukiah CA, Samuel Mockbee and the Rural Studio in Hale County AL, "Swamp Gravy" in Colquitt GA, the Community Arts Network that gathers so much information about community arts and works out of a trailer in NC, and so many, many other places where people give of their time and their creativity to create gifts for members of their community, and help others to share their own stories and creativity.

It is only in a post-Kantian "art-is-by-definition-useless" world, a world where art has become a product to be sold like deoderant rather than an experience and a means of connection, that such work is dismissed as "social work." But any acquaintance with the writing of Wendell Berry, Wes Jackson, Robert Gard, Percy MacKaye, Augusto Boal, Lyle Estill, or David Diamond reveals a rich, largely untapped source of rich creativity and beautiful sharing.

In the post I made earlier today that included the TED presentation by Elizabeth Gilbert, Gilbert argues that this belief in an internalized "genius" possessed within individuals leads to illness for artists. I would argue that it also leads to illness for communities as well. Once only "special people" make art, the underground spring of creativity that supports humanity begins to dry up, and the result is not thirst but rather resentment at those who have diverted the spring to their own purposes. The deep suspicion and even hostility toward artists often expressed by "non-artists" reflects this unconscious resentment that the creative wellspring has become privatized, hoarded by the specially-trained "Creative Class."

It is necessary for regular folks to relearn how to sing, to tell stories, to play instruments, to paint murals, to carve statues -- in short, to contribute their creative energy to each other, instead of (or at least in addition to) relying exclusively on those who devote a greater amount of time and attention to those pursuits. More than anything, this has been the outcome of television and radio, who created the sense that art should be passively consumed rather than created. The days of telling stories or singing with a guitar have been replaced by Netflix and cable television. Like the escaped contents of Pandora's box, these evils have been relased into the world and connot be sealed up again. But at the bottom of Pandora's box one thing remained: Hope. Hope, like Community a much-scorned gift in this cynical world, has been dismissed by many. But it is from Hope that the Future emerges; and it is through Community that the Past is reclaimed.

As the gardener knows, his plants come from a combination of good soil, the efforts of the gardener, and gifts from Nature. Like the daemon or the Roman genius mention in Elizabeth Gilbert's talk, the success of the garden is only partly under the control of the gardener. One must rely on the gifts of Nature, and on the remnants of the past that lie within the rich soil.

My intention is to do my part to enrich the soil and plant some seeds. I don't know whether anything will grow, but I will do my part out of a faith in the value of the process, the goodness of the soil, and the benevolence of the Communal Spirit.