Theatre for Real People

I don't want to do theatre for theatre people.  I want to do theatre for everyone.  It seems that in some of the places I've been recently, the same people go to all the same shows acted by the same groups of people to impress each other.  I want to inspire, not show off.  I want to invigorate, not impress.  I want to do something new because the times are changing and we, as a society, need it - not to be flashy or edgy.  I like flashy and edgy because it makes me think, not simply because it's shocking or . . . well, flashy and edgy. 

I want to teach theatre.  I want to get a fresh group of minds every few months and explain to them what theatre means to me.  I want to infect an entire generation with the notion that theatre should be dirty, it shouldn't cost thousands of dollars to produce and be attended by those who can afford it.  Those who need theatre the most often can't afford it - I grew up never being able to afford the theatre, and even the free stages around me weren't really "around" and required several different modes of public transportation to get to.  Public transportation that cost more money than I had.

I had the extreme good fortune to work directly with Julian Boal at an intensive workshop at DePauw University.  He told us a story that really stuck with me.  Here's my attempt at a summary.  There was a group of people being oppressed (creative already, huh?), and a troupe practicing Boal's Forum Theatre and tailoring their works specifically to the downtrodden workers.  The troupe's finale involved the actors taking up guns against their oppressors and fighting back.  The workers stood up and chanted with the actors, an act that was not only empowering to the workers, but the feeling on stage must have also been tremendous - as an artist, I would love to have a performance or piece of music inspire someone to action.  However, when the performance ended, the workers wanted to actually take their tools and guns against the oppressors, and wanted the actors to fight with them.  The actors were, needless to say, reluctant, and the workers, confused.  What gave these actors the nerve to tell the workers that they should fight back if they weren't willing to fight with them?

This story got me thinking, as I'm sure was Julian's intention when relaying it to us.  Why do theatre that I don't believe in?  I'm not calling into question how passionately these actors felt about the situation - they took the time to travel, learn about the local concerns, and perform with and for them in a manner that those people weren't used to.  But if they wanted to create change, why not back up word with action?  Should actors be willing to take up guns in defense of something they believe passionately about?

That was an extreme example, but this is war.  This is war against complacency, war against "high art."  This is war against people dressing up in evening gowns and three-piece suits to see a magical tale of an ogre making fart jokes.  This is war to tear down Broadway and make theatre accessible to those of us living below the national poverty line.  This is the time of Rough Theatre.  The Way We Live Now.  Loosen your ties, untuck your shirts, kick off your heels, and prepare your mind to think about what it lets in between your ears.  See a piece that pisses you off?  Talk to the playwright, actors, directors - I'm sure they have plenty to say about what they do and why they do it.  See a piece that inspires you?  Grab a pen write letters to the politician nearest you who can get things done.  See a piece that makes you laugh until you cry?  Good.  Feel something.  And don't be afraid.

I'm feelin' alright

I'm feeling pretty good about things right now.  I just got my U/RTA packet back and I can go ahead with preparing my auditions/interviews.  I have a lot of writing to do, though: statements of intent/artistic philosophy for the Directing interviews, as well as script analyses (analysises? analysi?) for shows I've directed (read: show, singular, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead).  In addition to all that writing, I also have to do preparation of a Sound Design portfolio (which I'm still not sure exactly how to go about doing) and monologues to memorize and prepare.  I have a few ideas, and I'm reading more and more.  I have to read 5 or 6 plays to be familiar with enough to get through a design/implementation discussion, so maybe I'll find some monologues I like there.  So far I've read all the Shakespeare that everyone wants to discuss, so I'll start reviewing that soon.  Probably after the show ends in December.

Oh, yeah:  I've been cast in an IndyFringe production of Sam Shepard's Curse of the Starving Class.  I play Emerson, a thug who blows up a car at the end of the show.  However, I'm also doing sound design and running the board, so hopefully that will pad my resume a bit.

In other news, I think I've finally decided to buy a new computer with which to do my sound production on.  You know, that and everything I would use a computer for.  But mostly sound.  I bought a external optical drive today to get over frustrations with my Mac (not the Mac's fault, just unattentive college slobs' error).  Getting it to work made me realize that I really do need a new computer, though.  Ideally I would shell out the cash for a MacBook Pro, but the problem there is lack of said "cash" to shell out.  So, I'm going to get a high-powered ultra-portable HP.  I like the smaller screen size, and I've found one at The Hellmouth (read: Wal-Mart) that is an amazing deal for the specs: 1.6 GHz AMD processor, 320 GB 7200rpm HDD, 4 GB DDR2 memory . . . yeah.  For right around $600.  With my external drive, I will be a portable machine.  I hope to utilize it first and foremost to make a kick-ass portfolio.  Then maybe for playing a little Portal?  Who knows?

Encouragement in unlikely places

I work at a movie theatre.  That entails a lot of the crap that you would think of when you think of working at a movie theatre . . . since I know all of you do that so often.  I take out lots of trash, sweep up lots of other peoples' messes, and generally going around unseen.  Or take tickets.  Or work behind a concession counter.  So, to keep myself sane, I sing.  I sing a lot.  People talk about me when I'm not around I sing so much.  Like, "What do you think of Chris?"  "Is he new?"  "Yeah, he's the one who sings all the time."  So, yeah.

Today, I'm singing "The Schmuel Song" from The Last 5 Years.  I've been singing it particularly a lot lately because I'm considering working it up as an audition piece for grad schools.  I walk into the break room at 1 AM after my shift singing the end.  You know, "Have I told you today how lucky I am to be in love with you."  I finish the song, and one of my coworkers looks up and says, "You know, you should be a singer.  You're really good."

I love to sing, but I acknowledge that I'm not the best out there.  I can carry a tune, find a pitch, and imitate good vocalists.  But I would certainly not call myself one.  This, however, encouraged me.  While I may not be able to sound like a star on every song I sing, if I can do it on this one - WHICH I PLAN TO AUDITION WITH - life will be just a little bit easier for me.  I think.