February 27, 2008
The Moral of the Problem
In my previous post, Problem Solving Skills, I talked about how Scott Walters has identified several problems that plague the current LORT theatre world and how he has recently moved on to proposing possible solutions. On a challenge from Devilvet, Mr. Walters has provided a short four point proposal for getting the status quo to shift to more favorable terms.
I had a point with my last post, but I got distracted and wound up writing about something completely different. This time, I’m going to go back to my original post.
I began talking about Mr. Walter’s blog because it provides a direct parallel to something that I see in my alma mater’s theatre all the time. It’s hard to walk into the dressing room, costume shop, scene shop or green room of this theatre without running into at least one person complaining about the administration’s shortcomings. So-and-so didn’t do this, or such-and-such didn’t do this, so Joe Schmoe can’t do this. Blah blah blah.
Let me give a more specific example. At this particular theatre, we are wrapping up a production of Fiddler on the Roof. Apparently, on this past Sunday there was supposed to be a photo call immediately following the show. Unfortunately, none of us (including the director) were made aware of this until intermission on Sunday’s performance. Several actors sat in the dressing room and green room while waiting for their next entrance. All they did was bitch and moan about how they weren’t given advance notice and they had better things to do. They pointed out the facts that we didn’t receive rehearsal schedules, there were no announcements made, and somebody fucked up and by God, it’s not our fault.
That’s fine and dandy, fellas. But what are you going to do about it? Instead of going to the stage manager and/or director and relating their concerns, the cast bitched and moaned about the problem. They identified the problem. They talked about the problem. They repeated the problem again. The thing is, these guys were preaching to the choir. We should have been given advance notice, and the entire cast shouldn’t have to suffer for one person’s fuck-up. But the cast didn’t do anything to improve the situation. They simply restated the problem over and over to each other.
This kind of thing happens all the time. All — the — time. A few years ago, an entire semester worth of shows was cast in the first two weeks of the school year. The two shows were of small casts (8 people each). To make matters worse, half the cast of the first was also cast in the second. Why is this a problem? There were over thirty performance majors who wanted parts, and half the people cast weren’t even drama majors. Of the thirty-plus performance majors, only four had been cast in either show. What did the rest of the department do? They bitched and moaned about it.
Finally, I had enough. As a graduate student, I said “Guys, if you want parts so badly, propose a play for you guys to do, pick a director, and put a show on yourselves.” They looked at me like I was crazy.
“No,” they replied. “It’s the department’s duty to provide us with performance experience.”
I’ve always been of the opinion that I would only help those who helped themselves first, but for some unknown reason, I stepped up to the plate. I picked and proposed a play, got it approved, and cast 12 more performance majors for a show that semester. That’s 12 people who wouldn’t have gotten a part otherwise.
That was my first directing experience, fraught with mistakes and screw-ups. But I helped them out by providing a solution rather than expounding upon the problem.
So what’s the moral of this convoluted post? (It’s past 4am, so please forgive me if it seems like rambling.)
The moral: once you’ve identified the problem, figure out a solution. Re-identifying the problem only wastes time, resources, emotions, and energy.
Mr. Walters is well on the way to providing a series of alternatives to the Nylachi way of theatre life. Let’s support him and create a tribal force to be reckoned with.
February 25, 2008
Problem Solving Skills
In the past few months over on Scott Walter’s blog, he has begun posting about his vision of the new frontiers of theatre — re-imagining theatre, if you will. When I first began reading his blog, and Mr. Walters had just begun his war against the status quo, he explained repeatedly what the problems are with the current set-up of LORT theatres across the country. He identified and defined dozens of aspects of the current set-up that simply are not working. I’m not going to launch into a recap of them now (honestly, it would take far too long), but I will make an observation.
In the beginning, God said “Let there be—… wait, wrong beginning.
In the beginning, Mr. Walters did nothing but explain the problem. Several readers of his (including myself) felt he was preaching to the choir. We were already on his side, or we would not have been reading his blog. Perhaps we hadn’t fully identified all of the problems that he did for us, nor had we thought through the consequences until he pointed them out. But many readers asked Mr. Walters to slow down on the expounding of the problem and attempt to identify some solutions.
Over the past two months, more and more blogs have taken pages from Mr. Walters’ proverbial book and posted on the issues as well, identifying and further clarifying the problems. Once more, there is more discussion about the nature of the problems and less coming up with solutions.
In recent weeks, Mr. Walters has begun offering possible solutions to the problems he has identified. He refers to his philosophical ideal as a tribe — a group of people who work closely together to solve the problems they’re faced with. If you would like more information on his tribal structure, check out his blog here.
I had a different point when I began this blog, but I’ve run out of time for now. I’ll post further on the subject when I get some more free time to work.
I challenge you, readers, to identify any issues or problems that you recognize in your theatres and offer possible solutions, whether on your blogs, in my comments, or on Mr. Walters’ tribe website.
Cowboys and Indians, go!
February 20, 2008
How to Respond to a Cell Phone in a Theatre
As sort of a sequel to the How To Annoy Your Director post, I’ve got another little list for you to peruse. Tell me if this hasn’t happened to you!
Every show I’ve ever been to and probably every one I’ll go to in the near future, I can guarantee you someone’s cell phone is going to go off. Instead of being embarrassed and whispering “Sorry!”, they pick up the phone, and loudly exclaim “Yeah?! I’m at a play. I SAID, I’M AT A PLAY. Yeah! It’s okay, I guess. That fat girl up there sucks, and the scrawny guy — well, I can’t hear a damn word he says…” Meanwhile, the rest of the audience is glaring at her. She prattles on, oblivious.
This has happened so many times on stage that I’ve come up with quite a few scenarios as to what I would like to do.
- I’ve actually done this: I waited until they were done, and then once they realized the action stopped, they got up and left. The audience applauded when they left, too.
- Throw a prop at them, preferably a sword or knife of some kind. I haven’t done this for liability reasons, of course, but… it’d be so nice.
- Yell, “Out, damn phone! Out!” in character. Haven’t done this yet, either. Mainly because it’s not likely I’ll perform in the Scottish play anytime soon, and I haven’t figured out a way to do it in character and not screw up the moment in other plays.
- Break character and say “Excuse me, ma’am, we’re in the middle of a play.” Not gonna happen.
- Walk off-stage into the house, grab the cell phone, drop it on the floor, and squash it with my boot, then walk back on-stage and pick up where I left off. I wish.
People just don’t respect the theatre these days.
February 15, 2008
February 13, 2008
Has Theatre Failed America?
I’m down with the flu right now, so I’m not going to spend a whole lot of time writing. I will, however, direct you to two blogs that you absolutely must read. These are two of the most thought-provoking things I’ve read regarding theatre in a long time. I’ve talked to some people in person regarding these two writers’ thoughts, but I get the “you’re crazy” look and excuses. If you truly care about theatre, whether as a professional or an audience member, you should read these two blogs (preferably in order) and try and understand the dilemma that plagues American theatre today.
The first is The Empty Spaces, or How Theatre Failed America. The second is Scott Walters’ response titled Buckminster Fuller is Right.
Read them both, and leave a comment letting me know what you think. I’ll be following up with my own thoughts later, once this nasty flu goes away.
February 11, 2008
18 Simple Reasons Why You Should Date An Actor/Actress
Stole this from a Facebook Group. Funny stuff!
You should date actors/actresses because:
- we practice until its perfect
- we’re used to role playing
- we work well in big groups of people
- we’re trained how to scream loudly
- we’re used to performing in front of large audiences
- we’re used to adding to the scene
- we love to use our props
- we work for the pleasure of others
- we do it on cue
- after a brief intermission we’re ready to go at it again
- we always wear our costumes
- we’re used to quick changes
- we work onstage and Backstage
- we know how to put on a GREAT show!!!
- we do it on the spot
- we may take hours to get ready but in the end its all worth it
- we can stay in one position for hours and still make it enjoyable
- our mouths know just how to move
- we can make you stand up and scream for more at the end
February 8, 2008
Excitement
I read several other people’s blogs, and one of them is by a woman who worked as co-chair of a theatre company in God-knows-where. I’ll leave her anonymous, for various reasons.
The guy she co-chaired the company with, to hear her tell it, is a prick. He wants the lead in every show they produce. He also wants his name as producer, director, and whatever-else. It’s painfully obvious to me that he’s doing this job for two reasons: a) he thinks he’s good at theatre (and maybe he is), and b) he likes to be in charge and in the limelight.
One thing I have learned in my years is that the only reasons you should stay in theatre are because you have a passion for theatre and it excites you. Excitement is the key here. If you’re excited, if you’re passionate about theatre, then you’ll find a way to make it. You won’t listen to the naysayers out there, who say you can’t make a living. You won’t listen to those who say theatre’s a waste of time. If you’re excited enough, you’ll find a way.
Excitement has a strange habit of crossing that 4th wall to the audience. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen a show or been in a show where the audience afterward says “Can’t say I enjoyed the script, but the audience looked like they were having a blast, and I thought that was very, very enjoyable!” Excitement inspires people. It inspires them to come in the first place, to stick around for an entire performance, to come back next time.
Be excited.
Be passionate.
Inspire.
February 6, 2008
February 4, 2008
An Introduction to Les Miserables
Last night, I saw what was possibly the best show I’ve ever seen in my life. The Virginia Samford Theatre hosted a production of Les Miserables presented by the Shades Valley Theatre Academy. For those who don’t know, Shades Valley is a local high school. However, this school edition of the hit musical wasn’t solely Shades Valley High students but consisted of students from all over the state. I mean, these kids were top-notch. I couldn’t believe they were only high schoolers. So, here comes my review!
Plot. There’s not much to say here — it’s your traditional Les Miserables plot. Still a great show, though. My father, my step-mother and I got into a discussion at dinner before the show. Now, I’d never actually seen Les Miserables before last night, so I was looking forward to it. I’d only heard the music up until this point. My father said “I don’t really care about the plot and the story, I care about the music.” My step-mother was aghast, “but, honey! The story’s the best part!” I decided to reserve judgment. Incidentally, my stepmother cried half the time during the show, she was so moved, and my father just tapped his foot to the beat.
Music. After having that conversation and watching the entire show, I decided that both of them were correct. It all comes down to whether you consider Les Miserables to be a musical or an opera. In my mind, an opera is all about the music — it’s basically a musical score that just happens to have a plot. A musical, on the other hand, is a play that happens to have music. It all depends on whether you like the music or the plot better, I think. I loved both aspects. The kids’ voices were incredible. The kid who played Enjolras had the best voice, by far, but the others were incredibly strong as well. The guy who played Jean Valjean did a lot of sing-speaking, but I’m not sure if that was written into the score or if that was a function of his voice capabilities. I’m inclined to believe the former, since he got standing O’s for a couple of his solo songs.
Choreography. The choreography was phenomenal. There wasn’t anything terribly difficult, but I was kept entertained throughout. The only lulls were when the soloists came forward to sing songs. The scrims would drop and it would be the actor downstage in a special singing alone, with very little movement. I thought that was rather boring. As I listened, I pictured them doing other things besides standing still and belting out the music. Other than that, there wasn’t a dull moment. The Threnadier’s were amazing, with some pretty complicated movements, and the students and revolutionaries had some pretty amazing stuff, too.
I was most impressed with the kids in the play. I mentioned that they were high schoolers, but that wasn’t entirely accurate. The show consisted primarily of upperclassmen, but there were a handful of middle-school and elementary-school children in the show as well. Little Eponine sang an adorably cute solo, and Little Cosette was cute as a button.
Another thing that impressed me was how each of the Ensemble members had a prominent position in the show. They each had solo parts, they each took centerstage at some point, and yet when their time was done, they seamlessly blended into the background chorus. Just great choreography and direction in this show.
Set. I’m going to admit that I spent a good part of the show trying to figure out how much the set cost. The set was incredibly done, with detail far beyond what I’ve seen in the few theatres that I’ve been in. They flew in a bridge and whole set pieces from the fly space. Honestly, I was shocked when kids walked across this bridge suspended in air, but apparently the techs knew what they were doing — nobody fell. The set was designed in separate modules that, when pulled together in different configurations, completely changed the way the set looked. I’ve never been backstage of the VST, but I was constantly shocked at how much set there was. Each scene was a completely new experience. I took my camera along, hoping to get pictures after the show, but they dropped the main drape and denied my request to take pictures. Oh well.
The only problem I had was that I could see into the wings the entire time. I kept wondering when the legs would fly in to conceal the wings, but it never happened. I could see actors backstage waiting for their entrances, whispering to each other, etc. I tried to ignore them, but when they’re wearing these fancy costumes, it’s hard to ignore.
Costumes. I was very, very impressed by the costumes as far as quality is concerned. However, looking at production photos from other performances in other theatres, I’ve realized that they didn’t do anything new with the costumes. They essentially took the Broadway version and copied their costumes. I was very impressed with them, though. Nothing looked fake or cheap.
Acting. These kids were phenomenal. They never broke character that I could tell, and they were very very convincing, especially in the parts where I’ve always found it hardest to stay in character. You know those parts, the ones where you’re in the background and supposed to be having a conversation with someone else while the leads are downstage singing solos. I’ve always found it difficult to make it realistic, and every show I’ve ever seen where that kind of stuff happens has been a disappointment. Not this time. This Les Miz cast completely blew me away. Everything was perfectly cast, and everyone fit into their roles like a glove. I honestly can’t believe these were all high schoolers.
Overall. I’ve always said that I can’t get into a soundtrack until I’ve seen a performance of a show. I’d listened to the Les Miserables soundtrack a handful of times, and I never could get into it. I put it on my iPod on the way home, and I’ve been listening to it non-stop. The story just came alive in front of my eyes, and now when I hear the songs, I can see vividly what happens.
I’ve seen four productions on Broadway, and I have to say that this production was right up there with them. I suspect part of the reason I’m so impressed is that I went in there expecting a high school production, and I got a Broadway production. Next time Shades Valley Theatre Academy puts on a production, I’m there. Great job, guys.
February 1, 2008
What can ya do?
One of the biggest problems that I face in my local theatre is a large sense of apathy. Most of the people here bitch and moan about how they didn’t get cast in this, they didn’t get cast in that, the theatre’s screwing them out of this, screwing them out of that. They complain and complain, and the department looks the other way. Why? Because they won’t help themselves.
The solution, obviously, is to produce their own shows — do what Scott Walters’ suggests, and work together and do small scenes together, monologues, 10 minute plays. The solution is to do their own work. The theatre doesn’t owe them anything. The theatre will, however, help those who help themselves.
A good example is a few years ago, one of the seniors embarked upon her senior project. She proposed a drama camp during the summer for kids. The rest of the department loved the idea, and so it happened. She ran it almost entirely by students, with only one faculty member assisting in scene painting. By the end of a week, the kids had performed a show for their parents. It was a huge success, raising the student drama society about $3000. Naturally, the department picked this up, and now it’s a departmental, annual thing run fully by the theatre (with assistance from students).
So, clearly, the theatre itself will assist a project, and maybe even take it on permanently, if the students, actors, and crew will start it and it proves to be successful.
Unfortunately, nobody wants to get off their asses to do so. In the past two years, there have been a handful of attempts to encourage and provide acting opportunities, including: three student-directed plays (including two by me), an improv theatre troupe (failed), and a cabaret (failed). The latter two failed largely because of a lack of participation. Everyone (well, in general) would rather sit around and bitch to each other than get off their butts and participate.
Which brings me to my conclusion. I’m going to echo, once again, Scott Walters. He has a brilliant plan to inspire change in local-actor hiring practices, but he makes a point, too: people don’t want to put themselves at risk if they don’t have to.
So, obviously, the trick is to provide them with an appropriate desire-to-laziness ratio. That is, the desire to participate must overcome their laziness. This worked in the two shows that I directed, because the students involved were sufficiently motivated to perform on stage — they were small shows and almost everyone had what could be termed a “lead role”, which motivated them to perform. Unfortunately, those kinds of shows aren’t the kinds of things that can be easily repeated. They would need to be something that worked so well that the theatre could pick it up, but similar enough that you don’t need to do an entirely new creative process every time (like, say, the drama camp). In addition, you need to have one person who is willing to do the vast majority of the work and is able to delegate the small tasks to their friends who are helping.
To summarize:
1) People are lazy
2) We need projects to do
3) The projects need to be low-risk, short in time-span, yet still produce results
4) They need to be easy to participate in
5) They need to be repeatable with minimal supervision
So what kinds of things can we do? Hmm.
I’ll get back to you on that.