Don't bother "saving theatre"

You've heard the gloom and doom predictions about theatre, I'm sure. They usually sound like one of these:

• The audiences are all older people, and when they die... no one will come.  
• Movies are killing live theatre. 
• The internet is killing theatre. 
• It's the prices! 
• People just don't have long enough attention spans.

Some of the above things have some truth to them, but I want to address this idea of "saving theatre."  I think it's misguided.  Me and the internet like lists so I'll make a bunch of vaguely outlandish claims and then support them with my experience or logic.  

(First let me make a distinction between what Broadway is/should be doing vs. nearly everywhere else. Broadway is a behemoth, high cost, high risk market, and what they're doing has little to do with what I'm talking about.  Broadway is largely (but not entirely) a tourist trap where only the shows that are known commodities and which have a very wide appeal will ever be successful.  I'm not really talking about those theatres.  They are in a trap of producing the Big Macs of theatre, and they can't really do much else.  It's not their fault. Blaming them for playing it safe would be like blaming a tight-rope walker for concentrating on balance.) 

1. Theatre doesn't need saving.   

During many periods in history, theatre was the popular form of entertainment.  It no longer is. Let it go.  The dominant form of entertainment will always be 1. the most convenient and 2. the broadest and least challenging thematically.  "Ease of access" and "lacking in substance" will always be the recipe for WIDE appeal.  Examples: McDonald's, Candy Crush, YouTube videos of cats in your FB feed.  It's right there, and it takes no investment of time, money, or thinking.  Theatre used to fill some of those needs, but it is no longer the easiest to access and it's rarely vapid in content.   

Happily, theatre doesn't have to be for the masses. Because things made for the masses are dumb and often bad for the masses.  I am suspicious of any work of art that everybody likes.  It usually means it's too easy to be profound, and too socially reiterative (read: the way things are now, is the way they should be).   

The truth is, theatre has found its place on the artistic landscape.  Poetry, dance, symphony orchestras, and studio art aren't trying to produce the next Marvel superhero movie, so why is theatre looking so hard to be something everybody likes?  Not everyone will love theatre and that's ok.   

Don't get me wrong, I have a considerable evangelical zeal for the art form.  I have spent most of my adult life introducing people to theatre and trying to get them to engage as audiences or artists.  I have just learned to stop bemoaning the fact that I dedicate countless hours to the production and promotion of a play, and most people would rather just watch Netflix.   

But theatre is not going anywhere.  It may not be as popular as it has been, the market may shrink, and there are certainly drawbacks for the artform as a result.  But history has shown us again and again that humanity longs to enflesh its beliefs, big questions, and demands for justice in a communal setting.   

2. The internet and cellphones are neither the destroyers or saviors of theatre.   

It's funny to me that many theatre people forget the words of Shakespeare: "There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so."  The internet falls into this category as well.   

There are those who bemoan its impact on the brains and attention spans of audiences. These are some of the doomsayers who think that there's no way we can make theatre work in a world where people want to check their phones every ten minutes.   

Then, on the other end of the spectrum are those who want to make theatre more like the internet to appeal to the digital generation.  I've seen productions that encourage people to Tweet about the production with a hashtag during the performance and they even project the tweets on a screen throughout the show.  And of course, smart theatre promoters have been able to utilize social media. 

I don't believe that smart phones and Facebook have made us dumber.  I believe that this generation has been brought up to read, process, and synthesize at a much more rapid rate that other generations.  Some would argue that they can't just sit down and read a book well, and that's true for some.  But the kind of "reading" people are doing today is just a different kind than that of the past.  Creators of theatre can certainly take this into consideration, but I think it's a mistake to think that all theatre now needs to feel like 140 character tweets, or 2-minute cat videos.   

As a side note, I think playwrights, directors, and designers will be wrestling for sometime with staging the internet.  It's not something we need to do to stay sexy, but it is necessary because the internet is a locus of culture.  People meet, fall in love, create and destroy on the internet.  We can't ignore it.  But staging it presents an interesting challenge.  I've seen some plays do this well, including dark play or stories for boys and Water by the Spoonful.  It will be interesting to see how future plays take it on.   

3.  It's okay if your audience is nearly dead, as long as your theatre isn't

I see a lot of people bemoaning theatres doing 50-year-old musicals and Neil Simon plays in an effort to get the blue-hair crowd.  And I understand the commercial necessities of producing plays that will fill seats.  The truth is, people just don't come to shows they don't know.  I am a HUGE fan of new work, and would dedicate my work entirely to it if I could. But a theatre without an audience isn't a theatre at all.

So, it's fine to do older plays occasionally, or plays that will appeal to an older audience sometimes, but it must always be ALIVE!  I simply mean, that doing Arsenic and Old Lace exactly as it has been done for the last 60 years might please your blue hairs (and it might not), but it will kill your theatre.  

We must never lose sight of what makes theatre unique and powerful.  We must never be reduced to doing a play that would be just as successful as a movie.  This has a lot to do with how we tell the story, staging, audience arrangement, etc.  How can we make the "aliveness" of the work, the urgency of live theatre, conspicuous and meaningful?  

The best plays, the ones I want to see and direct are the ones that demand to be live theatre.  I want people to walk out of performances I direct saying, "That HAD to be a live experience".  If you could video tape my play and get a pretty good idea of the experience, I have failed.  

Once audiences, new and old, come to trust the work of your company, they'll trust you enough to come see a newer or lesser-known work.

So, do "A Christmas Carol" if you must, but figure out how to make it something special for the people who decided to see your version. Or next Christmas you can bet they'll just watch it on Netflix.  

4.  Let there be theatre on Earth, and let it begin with me.   

For as many conversations as I've had about "the future of theatre" on a national or international scale, exactly zero of those conversations have been with the director of the NEA, or program directors for major theatres like the Steppenwolf or the Arena Stage.  So why are we playing armchair commander, when we are foot soldiers, at best?  Our job is to make theatre, support theatre, and see theatre (oh, and probably to bring our friends). Period.   

Nothing will transform people into theatre-lovers like them giving them the chance to love theatre.   

The future patrons of theatre are in middle schools, high schools, and universities right now.  And I'm not talking about those kids that are destined for the stage.  I'm talking about the DABBLERS!  Dabblers are the future.  I know lots of theatre educators and what I hope they are doing for the majority of kids is giving them the love of theatre. That's it.  Be infectious with your love of the thing.  People will go see a play as adults if they were in that show in middle school, or they read it in high school and loved it.  I know far too many theatre teachers who think they need to be tyrants in order to get hard work and good productions out of their unskilled casts.  I'd rather high schoolers do terrible productions and love theatre, then do great shows but be resentful about their treatment during rehearsals.  

So we need to teach people how awesome this thing is.  Here are a few tips on theatre evangelism:

• One-on-one outreach works the best. Invite along a friend to a show, especially someone who doesn't consider themselves "a theatre person".  Guilt your friends and family into seeing the shows you are in.  

• Kids get and enjoy more theatre than you think. Bring them to grown up plays, not just children's theatre.  Most people who love plays were exposed to them early on.

• Be mindful of "Gateway" theatre.  Don't bring a staunch conservative to a showing of Hair. Don't bring a first time theatre person to a high minded, avant-garde work about suicide.  DO bring people to improv shows to get them exposed to live performance, then follow it up with a scripted comedy.  Then they might be ready for something heavier.  DO start people off with a very fun stuff, or straight-forward stories. Remember for most non-Theatre people STORY matters the absolute most.  If you have become fond of unresolved endings or non-linear plays, you might want to leave your "beginners" at home for those.  

• Get involved in bad stuff.  No one was a brilliant playwright, director, or actor in their first production. We get better by doing it more, but if beginners keep having doors shut in their face, or being judged as poor quality, they will leave the artform defeated.  So help the local community theatre, give the aspiring playwright feedback on his script. And remember that you sucked once too.  

I'm certain there will be people who disagree with me on a lot of this.  And that's okay.  I have been fighting the fight for theatre for a long time, and these lessons are earned through some success and a lot of failure.  But there's a lot of wild speculation in there as well. Feel free to take me to task on those.  :)  

Audition Tips

This weekend I saw nearly 300 high school seniors auditioning for college theatre programs at SETC (Southeastern Theatre Conference). On the whole, I saw a number of fantastically talented students, many who seem very kind, and excited about this crazy art form that I love. So, you know... that's good.

But of course, after about number 88, you start to realize there are some types of monologues you are just praying will stop. I thought I'd share some of my observations from the point of view of an auditor. I can't say that EVERY theatre professor/recruiter will agree with these, but I'm betting they'll be on board. (Special thanks to my new friend Amanda Wansa Morgan, from Ole Miss, who was very fun to sit next to during the first portion of these auditions.)

So, here are the tips. A list of 9 DON'Ts followed by 1 big DO: (and then a SECRET of auditions)

1. Don't cry.  I know, you want to show your emotional range.  And what actor doesn't fantasize about that UGLY CRY moment where they lay it all bare on the stage and the audience is left flabbergasted?  But the truth is, those moments are earned by the full length journey that a character takes throughout the course of a whole play.  I only care about your crying if I know you, if I feel your pain with you because I've gone with you on a part of your journey.  In a 1-2 minute monologue, we don't have that.  And no matter how good you are, we won't have it.  So mostly, crying monologues just feel whiney, hard to understand, and uncomfortable.
   
   If you absolutely must do a sad monologue, than do everything in your power to play against the sadness.  I'm much more moved by a person who is trying not to show that they are sad, than by someone who has just given themselves over to screams and tears.  If I see you deliberately trying to hide sadness, or any emotion, really, than I might take notice.  But, in truth, it'd be better not to do a sad monologue at all.
   
2. No monologues about suicide.  I know it's a serious topic.  But it feels cheap, like an after-school special (does that reference make sense anymore?).  It feels like you are using the seriousness of suicide to make me take you seriously.  And it doesn't work.  It just makes me feel uncomfortable, and not in a good way.
   
3. Or cancer.
   
4. Or rape.
   
5. Or being molested.
   
6. Don't choose "adult" material.  I'm no prude, but in most of these auditions you have a lot of older professors watching a much younger actor or actress (often 18 or younger).  When you talk about sex, or your body,  it's difficult to like your monologue without feeling a bit creepy.  We don't want to be creepy.  We want to see the best in you. We want to feel great about helping you along the way of your career.  But not this way.
   
7. Don't scream or yell!  It feels like a cheap way to get my attention, and I might spill my coffee a bit, which makes me like you less.
   
8. Don't be quiet (even for dramatic effect).  Whenever a song or monologue was too quiet during the SETC auditions, I'd lean in to try to hear better, and my new friend Amanda, from Ole Miss, would say "it's a secret".  Don't have secrets.
   
9. Don't stand still and don't move uncontrollably.  So many students walked up to the downstage center spot, looked straight ahead, and delivered their monologues nearly motionless. MOVE!  Theatre is a visual as well as auditory art.  If you can't use your body to convey a character, then I have no idea if you can act.  I always tell my students, "If you could have performed your monologue just as effectively over the phone, it wasn't very good."
   
   On the flip side of this, don't move all over with no apparent control of your arms and legs.  You should make CHOICES about when to move, when to gesture.  Your ability to identify the moments and movements of the monologue are what I'm looking for.  Have someone direct your monologue for you.  Find someone you trust to find the move points and give you feedback.
   
10. And finally the DO ... MAKE US LAUGH!!! I used to think this was just a suggestion, but after watching 270 or so students I have decided this is the only IMPERATIVE in an audition. Pick a funny monologue or song, and make us laugh the whole time.  If you can make us laugh, I don't need to see that you can "do serious" as well.  Comedic monologues done well require serious acting, it's all I need to see.  (I'd even go so far as to say that if the audition calls for contrasting, make the language/period contrast, but make them both funny.)
    
    Which brings me to the secret... 

SECRET TIP:  More than you think, and certainly more than most adjudicators will admit, we are looking for students that will be a joy to work with.  And I honestly believe that if you do a crying, weeping, or screaming monologue, there's a part of us that feels like you may be like that in real life. And we would rather pick the guy or girl who has us laughing in the middle of a long day.

So, when picking a monologue, pick a character who you'd have a lot of fun hanging out with. Seriously. It sounds stupidly simple, but I'm 98% positive it will work better than a screaming, weeping monologue about someone who committed suicide after aborting her baby. 

A few bonus tips that are purely my opinion:  

• No songs from Phantom, Guys and Dolls, or Les Mis.  
• No monologues from Our Town or The Fantasticks.  If you notice the professors saying the monologues along with you, you have chosen something too common.  
• I love Dr. Who as much as the next guy, but I think bow ties are done.  (I know, I'll get some pushback here.)  
• I used to be a real stickler with my students about choosing monologues from produced, full length plays and avoiding monologue books (where the monologues were written as stand alone pieces just for audition).  I'm not sure I feel that way anymore.  The Make Us Laugh rule seems so important that if the monologue does that, I don't think I care where it comes from.  I'd be curious to hear what other theatre professors and casting directors think of this. 

---

Applause for Jason Francis

As a freshman at Taylor University I was cast as Tom Sawyer in Big River. It was thrilling to be cast in a good role as a freshman and on opening night the audience was responding to very well to everything I was doing. It was electrifying.

At the end of our opening night performance, as the lights faded on the curtain call, I ran backstage to meet friends and hear praise. But before I could reach the stage door, a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was Jason Francis, a senior and gifted actor.

"Wait," he said. "Listen, do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything," I said anxiously.

"That's right," his eyes widened, "The applause dies every night... Don't do it for the applause."

There was a moment and I finally said "Okay" feigning comprehension. I ran off toward the lobby lights and the kudos. But the moment haunted me, and haunts me still.

It didn't take long to learn that applause and audience praise is not only fleeting, but unreliable and inaccurate. My worst performances have received standing ovations and some of my best work doesn't result in a measurable response. But more than that, I have come to understand that there's more at stake in theatre than applause.

I learned in my time at Taylor that theatre has a foot in the spiritual realm. The movment of bodies and the portrayal of lives moves souls. Jason, in our short friendship, embodied the seriousness of this art form and its eternal implications on its creators and audience. With Jason, and ever since, my greatest theatrical experiences are those where I could palpably sense a "presence." When like-minded people put their hands to a work of art, it can be a transcendant experience, a holy moment.

Jason was all about holy moments on stage, and because of him, so am I.

I found out last night that Jason died of cancer this week.

Four months ago, I got this email:

I'm in my FINAL year of MFA. Class of 2010 baby! And it has been a great journey. I've learned tons - not the least of which BREATHE - and relax onstage - mind blowing concepts at the master level. We're doing Lear for our thesis show - I get to be Gloucester. Yay.

After not hearing from him for nearly ten years, it turned out we were both back in school for theatre! And he was still committed to exploring PRESENCE onstage.

He never got to perform in Lear and this May he will not get his degree, but he's a large part of why I'll be getting mine.

His generous spirit on and offstage was the first model I had for an actor who sees their life and work as a rehearsal for eternity. And as the theatre saying goes... "you perform like you rehearse."

Jason, I know you didn't do it for the applause, but you have mine.

Jason Francis 1972-2010

iGrad

This is a project I've been involved in since its inception. We do this little half-scripted show for the entire graduate school orientation at Baylor. But this is an effort to make it go bigger.

PART I - "I'm going to grad school"


PART II - "Secret Word"

DeNiro and 50 Cent on Acting

VIBE magazine featured an article and interview with Robert DeNiro and 50 Cent because they are set to appear in the film Righteous Kill (with Pacino as well). The interview amuses me for a few reasons. Primarily because DeNiro is an artist who was trained by Stella Adler and who's largely considered one of the greatest film actors of all time. And 50 Cent became famous for writing these lyrics:

We gon' party like it's yo birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
And you know we don't give a f**k
It's not your birthday!

Vibe gives the two equal billing in the article and a few moments strike me. First, I find it amusing that DeNiro calls 50 "Curtis". I can imagine that conversation went like this:

RD: How ya doing? I'm Robert.
50: I'm 50 Cent.
RD: What's your mother call you?
50: Curtis.
RD: Right. You ready to do this, Curtis?

Here's an actual exchange from the interview:

VIBE: When you're a method actor, you pull from your own experiences, thing that have affected you -- are you pulling from those things?

Curtis jumps in first.

50: Absolutely, I mean... I've chosen roles I can actually relate to.
RD: ...People can identify with the character, [then] make it specific based on their own experience.

My favorite part:

RD: Imagine that you've not killed somebody, but you imagine the details, the specifics of that, that's what makes it special.

I love that when DeNiro is in a conversation with 50 Cent he has to draw a hypothetical picture of an actor who has not actually killed anyone. Then later:

VIBE: (to DeNiro) 50 has made clear how the hard times he's gone through have led him to be the gangster rapper he is and to play the kind of roles he plays. Your upbringing was more... artistic. I wonder - to where are you reaching?
RD: Well, I've had other experiences in my life that were... for want of a better way of putting it, street oriented.
VIBE: Wait a minute, is Robert DeNiro saying he was running the streets.
50: Orientated... he said he's street-orientated.

That's right, DeNiro uses a real word, which Curtis then repeats incorrectly, twice.

Also notable in the article are the credits:

DeNiro:Styled by Aude Bronson Howard, Groomed by Lynda Eichner
50 Cent: Styled by Mia Maddox, Groomed by Lionel "Lyte" Jones
Prop Styling by Amy Henry
Fashion Director: Memsor Kamarake'

So you apparently need six people (including one dedicated solely to finding a baseball bat for 50 to hold) to prepare two guys for four photos. And yet they look the same as they do every other time I've seen them. And really... if your job title is "Groomer" do you really need the nickname "Lyte". It's pretty much implied.

That's all I have to say about that.