Monday, March 9, 2009

Doctrine of Responsibility for the Theatre Activist

Graduating from the sandbox of my youth, I emerge wielding ideology and a toy-shovel. Today is The Now and forever is The Now. For as long as there exists the foundation upon which I stand, I have achieved immortality. Herein lies a doctrine for responsibility and participation recognition to be applied by theatre activists (patrons, students, enthusiasts and professionals alike) everywhere. Should a theatre activist accept their responsibility, we might unbind this art form yet from the ropes of tyranny set in place by The Mouse and his minions.

“Upon paying for admission and entering a theater, I, the theatre activist, recognize my monetary transaction as a contract for collaboration – not the price of a nap. I expect of the performers, and I expect of myself full attention, efficient use of time, and the physical and mental labor necessary to create this individual and unreplicate piece of art.”

The common reputation of the theatre precedes it unfavorably. The general public understands it to be a tired form of art. And yet the standards to which it is compared are unfair. Theatre should never be cinematic. Cinema serves a fine purpose, but at its base level is a recorded art form, unalterable by its patrons until after the credits roll. Walking out of a film does not change the performers’, directors’ or technicians’ recorded work. It is a document; an artifact. Theatre is not. A performance only exists for one night and is alterable by the true theatre activist.

Having been disappointed greatly by the level of commitment I see in young theatre activists, let me explain in common terms: theatre is an art that is as dynamic as we are. It has moods. It can be sleepy, over-caffeinated, horny or a myriad other things. A performer looks to the theatre activist for guidance. A performer has a need to relate a story and to have an audience understand their character. To have neglected your audience is the most brash and conceited crime a performer can commit. And yet, realize that to a performer, an audience of faces bathed in blue light – the clicking of thumbs on plastic screens, each a pinprick in the majestic breath of silence – is not only deterring them from participating with an audience, but fatal to their spirit as artists.

Nic Adams
March 9, 2009

1 comment:

  1. Nicely articulated, Nic. I'd take that pledge.

    I understand your point about having an engaged audience, naturally. But as a perpetual audience member, I would also assert my feeling that performers often seem only to care how the art exists only as it relates to them, as artists. I've often felt like a kind of inconvenience to actors, like my viewing of the piece is not as legitimate as theirs. I am not talking about The Now in particular, but as actors and artists I would implore you to think about how the audience's understanding of a piece is incurably different than a performer's. You seem to already know this, but perhaps another goal of the theatre enthusiast could be to make the difference between the two less daunting? An audience should not be cajoled or fawned upon, obviously. But they should feel valued (another aspect that has suffered with the Mousification of the stage, I think).

    I am again impressed by the ambition and passion behind this movement, and I am excited to see where it goes. Just don't invite the theatre outsiders to be a part of your productions, don't try to make the audience less "they" and more "we", unless you are really willing to share your proverbial stage of ideas and consideration (though you appear to be honest and honorable in your intention to do so).

    Thanks again for being engaged, engaging people writing with intelligence about art and life.

    Anna

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