Actually Twittering The Future

I knew someday that Twitter thing would be useful. And apparently that day is today. (Or rather last week.)

A Thought About Bias

In this article, as with other places I've seen, the shocker seems to be that women adminstrators are rating plays by other women more negatively. That's one thing that actually makes perfect sense to me. Chances are that woman is going to have to answer to a man, either an artistic director or a board chair or somebody, since most of those positions are held by men. And when she does, she's got to make damn sure that there's no whiff of "I chose this play because it's by a woman." In fact, choosing a play by a woman at all is pretty suspect. You have to be stringent and harsh, even cruel, because you have to protect yourself. If all you bring to your AD are plays by women, even if they are the best plays, you're not going to keep that job for long.

And there's the whole tourism aspect. Since women playwrights are often hemmed into writing plays about women and "women's issues" (whatever the hell that means), there's a good chance that another woman would be very familiar with those issues and attitudes and able to smell out false steps more easily than a man. Since a man is a tourist in the world, he takes it all in at face value, maybe even elides over some of the false steps because, in his mind, it's fresh and new and innovative.

When you're dealing with a culture rife with sexism, racism and other forms of inequality, it takes on many, many forms.

One Last Thing...

Um. Duh. A whole lot of duh on all of this. It's always good to have facts to back up what everybody knows and is already talking about, but...really? Oskar? You want to have a meeting? Guess you don't read the papers.

Shouting Myself Hoarse

I obviously haven't felt too much like blogging here lately. I figured I'd put out there what's been going through my head. I, of course, have an example. And, of course, it involves Isaac and Parabasis.

A couple of days back, Isaac posted this piece on having Broadway shows that recoup donate 1% of their profits to an unrestricted fund for artists. I thought it was a good, simple and relatively actionable idea, so I forwarded the link to someone I know in the institutional world, for their thoughts and feedback. I got back a long, thoughtful, but ultimately disapproving e-mail from my friend, who had some good points about why that kind of plan wouldn't work, or couldn't be implemented, some points I disagreed with, and some worthy of discussion. Near the end of the e-mail, though, my friend basically said that these ideas come from people who don't really know how the industry works. Which I took some small exception to. But I also encouraged my friend to post that e-mail on Isaac's site, since, knowing him, he'd be very willing to engage the points raised. That hasn't happened and I don't think it's likely to. Maybe my friend e-mailed Isaac privately. I doubt it, but maybe.

And that for me is one of the reasons that I've been slowing down here. I've felt it for a while and kept trying to figure out ways to put into a post, but that experience encapsulated some of the frustration I've been having with the theatrosphere, this blog, my thinking about all of these stuff, even.

I don't currently work in a New York theatre, but I did for a long time. I don't consider myself some amateur who has no idea how business functions or what the expectations are. I do. I just happen to disagree with a lot of those expectations. I think the same goes for a lot of us out here writing. We disagree with the status quo. That's not ignorance; it's dissent.

The thing I love about the internet, the theatrosphere, blogging is the conversation. The idea of comments and linking and having a wide-ranging conversation about what's going on in the field. Sometimes, you go too far and step in a pile of crap. Sometimes you stumble upon a hidden gem or overlooked corner. It's supposed to be a back-and-forth, point and counterpoint, where we're all contributing. But over the last few months, especially, I haven't felt like there's been a lot of back-and-forth. The voices out here are strong, captivating and interesting, and the point of views are great and each one is unique. But it feels like we're coming from the same place and, in more ways than one, saying the same things over and over and over. They're good, smart things. But it feels like an echo chamber sometimes.

The attitude of "well, they're all a bunch of idealists with no sense of how the world works" contributes mightily to that. The people working in the system, for the system don't come down here and tell us what they think. It leaves me more frustrated to feel like either they agree with us, but are too afraid for their jobs to say anything or they disagree completely with us and don't feel like the conversation is worth being a part of. Either way, it sucks.

I don't really begrudge the people working in the institutions their way of life. I've been there and I know it. What's frustrating is that it's all so one way. Why not defend institutions? Why not defend the system? Why not join the conversation, even anonymously? For all of our fire-breathing and flame-warring, I think we actually want to hear what you believe. And we're willing to incorporate new ideas into our own. When I went on my MTC rant, and Isaac dropped some actual information on me, you know what? I backed off. The silence of our institutions about this stuff is what leaves me feeling so angry.

After a while, you just want to focus on the work itself and leave the system to sort itself out. But, for me, part of the frustration is actually the thing that makes this blog possible: my anonymity. I'd like to talk more about my work and my projects and what's exciting. But I don't want to let the cat out of the bag just yet. And I don't think it does much good to talk about the work in generalities. The one thing you learn in playwriting school: specifics, specifics, specifics. That holds true in blogging.

So...I'm not throwing in the towel. But I am taking a break. I've shouted myself hoarse out here, yelling at the battlements, hoping someone is listening. I'll be back, once I've let myself lay fallow. (I just figured I'd throw as many metaphors as possible in there.) I'm still available at 99seats-at-gmail.com, if you want to drop a line. I'm always happy to correspond.

I'll see ya on the Rialto...

Good Thinking...

From Isaac. Check it out.

Getting distracted...

I was just in the middle of a post on diversity, responding to this and this and then, honestly, I found that I couldn't even care all that much about it. It's an important issue and one that needs discussing, but...I don't know, maybe right now, I just can't get my dudgeon high enough or something. I blame Isaac. His post got me all excited about a new project I'm working on and now I'm all happiness and contentment. Grr. And I would love to share with you folks, but it would get into personal details and such and that don't fly with the whole anonymous thing. So...there you have it. I might go off and be happy for a while.

Under the Influence

Don Hall posted this a while back and I meant to respond to it, to try to get a meme going. (If I could do it with Travis Bedard Day, I can do it with this!) Then I let it fall by the wayside. But with Issac's call for less doom and gloom and more excitement, it seemed like a good time to give it a whack.

Alan Ayckbourn: the most prolific playwright in the Western Hemisphere (and probably both hemisphere). Dude writes a ton.

What I Steal: Write a lot. (He wrote all three plays in The Norman Conquests in three weeks. All three. At the same time.) Never write the same kind of play twice, even if you're writing about the same subject. Everything - style, format, genre - is fair game. Entertain 'em.

Lanford Wilson: after I was turned onto Lemon Sky, I devoured everything else of his. I saw all of the productions of the Signature's Lanford Wilson season.

What I Steal: Write for actors, not to actor-proof it. Tell all the truth, but tell it slant. (Yeah, that's Emily Dickinson, but it applies.)

Naomi Wallace: One of the more unsung greats working today. Slaughter City and One Flea Spare just plain blew me away.

What I Steal: Political writing can be emotional and powerful. Let images do some of the work for you.

Constance Congdon: Tales of the Lost Formicans basically made me a playwright.

What I Steal: Have fun out there, even when you're writing about the heavy stuff.

Tony Kushner: Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's all been said before. And it's all true.

What I Steal: Do your research. Use your research. Pull in all the disparate threads. It will come together.

August Wilson: The grand old man, R.I.P.

What I Steal: There's nothing wrong with telling the story straight. And using a lot of words. Use lots of words.

What are you stealing?

I Like This.

In the midst of all the stress and strife and demands to tear down various walls and screw various bastards, it's nice to have a little reminder of why we do this stuff. And that's what this is.

The Million Dollar Question

Well, not THE million dollar question, but a good one nonetheless. From the comments here, DPS asks a very good question:

In all of this, I continue to wonder why we're so worried about institutional theatre? Let them die out in 15 years. They've had a good run.

A fair point and one, I think, a lot of people would agree with. Like, a lot of people. We get our revolutionary fervor up and think, "Screw it. Let 'em fail." And I'm not one to argue that anything is too big to fail. But there is something to all of this discussion. I think the reason is here.

We want to let the institutions go? Fine. Then we need to have a pretty good and clear plan about how to NOT become institutions and repeat all the same mistakes. We'll make new ones, to be sure. But the story of the last fifteen years is that all of the small, hardscrabble, make-it-up-as-you-go-along theatre companies that cropped up in the late '80s and early '90s have either folded or turned into institutions. The system is going to push us that way. How do we push back? That's really the conversation.

I'm not saying I wouldn't love a seat at the big table, but if they keep serving what they're serving, I'll pass. I can make my own food. I just have to make sure my recipe is in order. (Not to belabor a metaphor...except I did.)

But, Then On The Other Hand...

So, after taking a look at it through the lens of the AD, I put back on my theatre blogger hat and say a hearty WTF. If you didn't want to juggle that stuff, you know, don't become an artistic director. Like the man said, this is the business we've chosen. Pick your ass up and get to work.

And Isaac is right on: better marketing isn't working. Not even close. And you have to see that, artistic directors. You have to know that, managing directors. Lipstick on pigs, and we all saw how well that worked out.

There is an audience out there, a hungry, excited audience that is actually interested in live performance, in real engagement. And they're seeking it out in places where they can get it. Those places are not in your theatres. You're not doing the kind of work they want to see. They're not dumb, or easily fooled or pandered to. Not really. And they are reachable. Absolutely. You just have to give them more.

We hear the mantra of "education, education, education." It's as though we're ready to write off everyone between the ages of 22 and 45 as lost to us, a philistine generation of videoheads and thrill-seekers. You're not seeing them. cgeye in the comments thread above mentions sketch comedy. Here in NYC, we're seeing that big time. UCB is churning, humming along (by all appearances), doing relevant, interesting work, sometimes three shows a night, and staying connected to the mainstream culture. It's quick, it's fast and it's connected. It's not about turning all of your shows into improv sketch comedy, but look at their models, look at their ways of connecting to the audience. You don't need more robust e-mail lists. You need to give young people something to bring them in. And, will you listen, it's not just sex, hip-hop and drugs. You sound like Michael Steele when you do that. And these people aren't stupid. So don't treat them as such.

And don't treat them like just another consumer you want to sell your product to. The whole point of outreach shouldn't be "Well, we have to replace our old, boring, dying audience." It has to be about engagement and connection. You know, those things you say theatre does better than television. Except more people feel engaged in their television shows. You have to connect to them and their lives. Not some 45-year old's idea of a young person's life, but their actual life.

I'm not saying this will be easy. It won't be. We've done a pretty good job over the last twenty five years turning theatre into a backwater, regressive, backwards-looking art form. But it can be done. You do have help. Out here on the internets are dozens and dozens of people who want to help you, all over the world. We love theatre and we want it to thrive. We may talk dirty, say nasty things or tell you things you don't want to hear, but we love this thing. Take a listen. Or even better, join the conversation. Mostly? We know what we're talking about. And we're willing to learn about the things we don't know. This is an easy first step. Start talking to us.

Here endeth the lesson.