Wait Until Dark, The Little Theatre of Savannah's latest melodrama, manages to present a mixed bag for the spectator in its November 13-30, 2008 run at the Freight Station Theatre. The script, adapted for the screen in 1967 by Robert Carrington, is a veritable danse macabre of menace, though the cast has difficulty at times finding where the true menace lies.
The story, revolving around a recently blinded young woman, follows a trio of con men in their attempts to retrieve a heroin stuffed doll from the apartment this young woman shares with her photographer husband. The story twists a torturous path where Sam is slowly implicated in smuggling and marital infidelity, until the con is finally discovered and the thugs must resort to sheer force.
The cons Mike (Justin Kent) and Carlino (Phil Keeling) are, much in the way of confidence artists, quite likeable in their own way. Indeed, there is something of Laurel and Hardy or the Three Stooges in their relationship. Their main shortfalling is that they simply do not go far enough. Scenes that could truly relieve audience tension through a bit of laughten tend to fall short, as the schtick is neglected. While it could be raised to almost monumental heights, a la Noises Off, it fails to fully please. Instead, one has two likeable men caught, essentially, in a bad situation.
If Mr. Kent and Mr. Keeling do not paint their characters with broad strokes, the role of Harry Roat Jr. (Giles Gonnsen) stepped straight out of Hannah-Barbara's animation studios. Mr. Gonnsen has, unfortunately, reduced Mr. Roat from a frightening killer to a simple pop-culture meme. If Heath Ledger's Joker from The Dark Knight had stolen Peter Seller's sunglasses from Dr. Strangelove, one would then have an accurate picture of Mr. Gonnsen's performance. While possibly a great deal of fun, wearing monstrosity so clearly on one's sleeve ultimately robs the piece of menace. Had this role been played straighter (think Hannibal Lecter) then greater vistas of frightening depravity could have been opened in the playing of Roat. Instead, as one already knows where the beast lies, Roat is surpassed in creepiness by the lurking, nine-year-old Gloria (Kasey Siebert).
Acting honours for the evening go to Ms. Rachel Herrick in her performance of Susy Hendrix. Ms. Herrick manages a nearly convincing performance as the blind Mrs. Hendrix. Given the difficulty of playing disability, particularly one so keyed as sight, Ms. Herrick's performance manages to succeed in simply not distracting, though it manages much more. Darwin Hull, as Sam Hendrix, puts in a brief but amiable appearance that recalls a sentimentalized Lee Cobb from Death of a Salesman.
The cast, under the direction of Savannah theatrical veteran Christopher Soucy, primarily undershoot the mark, barring some exception. Given certain personnel issues throughout the rehearsal process, the cast has managed to put together an engaging show.
The set (designed by Jeroy Hannah) is an effective and spacious use of the Freight Station's sometimes limited square footage. However, the tone is truly set by the lighting (designed by director Christopher Soucy), oddly enough for a play about darkness. Mr. Soucy's choice of a brilliant, hard edged lamp for his house light helped to set the tone by bathing the waiting audience in harsh, white light.
Though Wait Until Dark is not without its shortcomings, Mr. Knott asks us to simply swallow a Byzantine con game extending to Montreal and tosses in Roat with almost no explanation as to his origins into the story, while the cast at times misses the opportunity to truly terrify, The Little Theatre of Savannah manages to put together an engaging evening of theatre.
Though the drawbacks and limitations of community theatre are a common, recurring theme here in The Savannah Dramaturgy, there is still an expectation of goodwill and excellence. Perhaps the most disturbing moment of the evening comes when this author is apologized to by multiple departing cast members. Such behavior is not only ungracious, but it also indicates to an audience member that their appreciation is unplaced and that absolution is desired. Given Savannah theatre's already limited resources, we cannot afford to lose goodwill, quite simply.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Falling off the Map
Firstly, the Savannah Dramaturgy would like to apologize for the dereliction of its duties recently. We have, indeed, missed much:
- Cardinal Rep's productions of "'Night Mother" & "Catch 22."
- AASU's productions of "Copenhagen" & "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
- I'm sure there are numerous other productions from other companies that we didn't cover.
- The changing of the guard at Savannah Cultural Arts.
- Wray Kessel's (founder of the Little Theatre) departure of this mortal coil.
- Essentially, anything of consequence for this fall season.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Once on This Island: Savannah Cultural Arts
Bravo to DJ Queenan and Savannah Cultural Arts for demonstrating precisely what the theatre in Savannah is capable of once it has the resources it needs at its disposal. With the production of Once on This Island, the production team of Savannah Cultural Arts has mustered the significant creative power from various agencies throughout the city and created something truly enjoyable for the city.
The script, by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahren, actually does fairly little to assist a production in the realm of audience identification or empathy. The piece, essentially a retelling of the 1830 Hans Christian Andersen fairytale The Little Mermaid, suffers from the classic character weaknesses of the traditional fairytale. Characters are, by and large, ciphers and silhouettes. Indeed, the main character, Ti Moune (played by Brittny Hargrove), is largely pathetic, surrendering herself to a mad quest for love. However, such victimization (self-inflicted or otherwise) is common among fairy-tale heroines and should not be taken as unusual. It is simply a measure of the script's weakness that such remains the case for Ti Moune. However, the liability is limited due to a solid showing by Ms. Hargrove.
Despite weaknesses of the book, Mr. Queenan has managed to assemble an entertaining and stimulating show. His most recent musical endeavour, The Boyfriend for the Little Theatre of Savannah, fell short largely due to musical limitations. However, the more formidable resources of the city allowed for the hiring and retention of a much stronger musical core. Further, energetic and appropriate choreography has been provided by Muriel Miller and Nancy Holmes of Abeni Cultural Arts (who also made quite an impression with their dance-based Othello during the Savannah Shakespeare Festival). The strength of the dance not only exceeded expectation, but also provided a very visceral connection to the Caribbean beat of this piece.
Further, the city has managed to bring in the varied talents of designer Danica Leigh (who provided the headpieces of the god characters), Adrienne Cronberger (costumes), and the acting talents of Ryan McCurdy, who had an excellent turn as an engaging Papa Ge. Again, the variety of resources which can be drawn upon by the city, including Abeni, Cardinal Rep, and SCAD, are a testament to the strength of Savannah's theatrical community. However, as has been evidenced by other productions, that strength is only made most fully evident when the proper resources can be brought to bear on the project. Much like this years Shakespeare Festival, Once on This Island has primarily succeeded by pulling in an combining the various orbits of Savannah's theatricality.
It should also be noted that this marks Mr. Queenan's final production with the city's Department of Cultural Affairs. He is departing to teach at Savannah Country Day, where The Savannah Dramaturgy hopes we will see more good work from him and steps forward in the training and inspiration of young artists. It is our fervent hope that Mr. Queenan's successor will draw upon the integrational abilities of the city in order to continue to strengthen Savannah's theatrical community.
The script, by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahren, actually does fairly little to assist a production in the realm of audience identification or empathy. The piece, essentially a retelling of the 1830 Hans Christian Andersen fairytale The Little Mermaid, suffers from the classic character weaknesses of the traditional fairytale. Characters are, by and large, ciphers and silhouettes. Indeed, the main character, Ti Moune (played by Brittny Hargrove), is largely pathetic, surrendering herself to a mad quest for love. However, such victimization (self-inflicted or otherwise) is common among fairy-tale heroines and should not be taken as unusual. It is simply a measure of the script's weakness that such remains the case for Ti Moune. However, the liability is limited due to a solid showing by Ms. Hargrove.
Despite weaknesses of the book, Mr. Queenan has managed to assemble an entertaining and stimulating show. His most recent musical endeavour, The Boyfriend for the Little Theatre of Savannah, fell short largely due to musical limitations. However, the more formidable resources of the city allowed for the hiring and retention of a much stronger musical core. Further, energetic and appropriate choreography has been provided by Muriel Miller and Nancy Holmes of Abeni Cultural Arts (who also made quite an impression with their dance-based Othello during the Savannah Shakespeare Festival). The strength of the dance not only exceeded expectation, but also provided a very visceral connection to the Caribbean beat of this piece.
Further, the city has managed to bring in the varied talents of designer Danica Leigh (who provided the headpieces of the god characters), Adrienne Cronberger (costumes), and the acting talents of Ryan McCurdy, who had an excellent turn as an engaging Papa Ge. Again, the variety of resources which can be drawn upon by the city, including Abeni, Cardinal Rep, and SCAD, are a testament to the strength of Savannah's theatrical community. However, as has been evidenced by other productions, that strength is only made most fully evident when the proper resources can be brought to bear on the project. Much like this years Shakespeare Festival, Once on This Island has primarily succeeded by pulling in an combining the various orbits of Savannah's theatricality.
It should also be noted that this marks Mr. Queenan's final production with the city's Department of Cultural Affairs. He is departing to teach at Savannah Country Day, where The Savannah Dramaturgy hopes we will see more good work from him and steps forward in the training and inspiration of young artists. It is our fervent hope that Mr. Queenan's successor will draw upon the integrational abilities of the city in order to continue to strengthen Savannah's theatrical community.
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Boy Friend: Little Theatre of Savannah
There is a saying, that one cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. While scientists at MIT have proven this to be false, they also found that it takes more than one ear. Which, once again, brings the Savannah Dramaturgy around to the perennial problem of Theatre in Savannah... more resources are needed.
Upon seeing the latest offering of the Little Theatre of Savannah, this author found this to be all the truer. The Boy Friend, performed in the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre, falls all too short. This is through no real lack of effort on the part of the people involved, who should be applauded, but instead through various inherent shortcomings.
The story itself is almost as old as the theatre. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, and boy gets girl in the end. This time honoured story can be found in musicals from Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. The Boy Friend is perhaps the most overt of all of these, but that is no real weakness, as such a primal story must have been addressed eventually, much to the pleasure of this author and anyone else with a romantic interest.
Yet, one cannot help feeling that the Little Theatre's production might have missed the point here. In the program notes, director DJ Queenan writes of a 1950's show spoofing earlier the musicals of the 1920's. And yet, if this piece is to be thought of as a send up, it most certainly lacks teeth, both scripturally and in the production. Though opportunity is ample to engage in self-referential fun, this is rarely done. Indeed, the opening song of "Perfect Young Ladies," seems a perfect opportunity. And yet, the tongues stay very firmly out of the cheeks and falls flat in a meta-theatrical sense. Indeed, only once, when Madame Dubonnet (played with gusto by Carol Melton) calls the spotlight to herself in true diva fashion before breaking into song. As such, there is a lost expectation here.
Further, there is a sharpness that one find highly desirable, and lacking, in this particular piece. Unfortunately, the Freight Station Theatre is an unforgiving venue, and errors can be glaring. Even small issues such as which particular leg is extended in the choreography do truly stick out around here. The combination of venue and the demands of the piece itself does the Little Theatre no favours. Combine this with the inherent limitations of the community theatre (which was addressed in the curtain speech preceding the show) and one most certainly has vagueness worthy of Monet himself. Unfortunately, beautiful as Monet's work is, the content of the piece does not lend itself to impressionism or watercolour.
Further, this author must wonder that an art city like Savannah lacks willing musicians. While musicians in the theatre are traditionally paid, even in community theatre, one must wonder if there is nobody out there. The use of electronic instuments (primarily keyboard and synth) kept the full impact of this piece from reaching the audience. Musicals are effective primarily because of the music, pure and simple. Indeed, one can often stand in the parking lot of a theatre after a musical and be treated to an impromptu performance of most of the showstoppers, being variously hummed, whistled, and sung by the departing audience. And yet, such was not the case. Proper orchestration helps to give the music a truly visceral effect, as one's skin thrills to the cadenza of a trumpet and the rhythm thumps in one's chest. And yet, the reliance upon electronic instruments instead of tradition orchestration robbed the audience of such an effect and failed to produce the impromptu parking lot performances. Indeed, by the end of this show, one finds oneself willing to sell one's soul for a trumpet (one should note that is production made limited use of trumpet, played from backstage by a member of the cast, but the effect was limited) or one's firstborn for an entire brass section.
And yet, despite all of this, one truly wants to feel the transportation inherent in the genre. The cast performs with such effort that one truly wishes that their boundless goodwill can be translated into the audience identification their pains deserve. Jeroy Hannah, who was also featured in the Little Theatre's The Moustrap, presents the clear-cut and slightly uptight of Percival Browne to great effect. Hortense (Lariena Brown) struts her stuff to delightful effect in "Nicer in Nice." Nick Bushkar as Tony, who could not have been better rendered by Norman Rockwell, is the quintessential perfect young man, and Polly Browne's (Jonette Page) shock and dismay at the possible derailment of her fledgling love affair grips the heartstrings of anyone who has ever feared the same.
In the end, this production was to be seen once, repeat performances neither needed nor desired. The fault is not that of the cast, but instead should be placed directly at the feet of the community's limitations. However, it should also be noted that this author also barely managed to get a ticket to the performance. Evidently, it clicked for some. Given that the average age of the audience was "post-mortem," perhaps there is something that this author needs time to see.
Upon seeing the latest offering of the Little Theatre of Savannah, this author found this to be all the truer. The Boy Friend, performed in the Seaboard Freight Station Theatre, falls all too short. This is through no real lack of effort on the part of the people involved, who should be applauded, but instead through various inherent shortcomings.
The story itself is almost as old as the theatre. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, and boy gets girl in the end. This time honoured story can be found in musicals from Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes, and West Side Story. The Boy Friend is perhaps the most overt of all of these, but that is no real weakness, as such a primal story must have been addressed eventually, much to the pleasure of this author and anyone else with a romantic interest.
Yet, one cannot help feeling that the Little Theatre's production might have missed the point here. In the program notes, director DJ Queenan writes of a 1950's show spoofing earlier the musicals of the 1920's. And yet, if this piece is to be thought of as a send up, it most certainly lacks teeth, both scripturally and in the production. Though opportunity is ample to engage in self-referential fun, this is rarely done. Indeed, the opening song of "Perfect Young Ladies," seems a perfect opportunity. And yet, the tongues stay very firmly out of the cheeks and falls flat in a meta-theatrical sense. Indeed, only once, when Madame Dubonnet (played with gusto by Carol Melton) calls the spotlight to herself in true diva fashion before breaking into song. As such, there is a lost expectation here.
Further, there is a sharpness that one find highly desirable, and lacking, in this particular piece. Unfortunately, the Freight Station Theatre is an unforgiving venue, and errors can be glaring. Even small issues such as which particular leg is extended in the choreography do truly stick out around here. The combination of venue and the demands of the piece itself does the Little Theatre no favours. Combine this with the inherent limitations of the community theatre (which was addressed in the curtain speech preceding the show) and one most certainly has vagueness worthy of Monet himself. Unfortunately, beautiful as Monet's work is, the content of the piece does not lend itself to impressionism or watercolour.
Further, this author must wonder that an art city like Savannah lacks willing musicians. While musicians in the theatre are traditionally paid, even in community theatre, one must wonder if there is nobody out there. The use of electronic instuments (primarily keyboard and synth) kept the full impact of this piece from reaching the audience. Musicals are effective primarily because of the music, pure and simple. Indeed, one can often stand in the parking lot of a theatre after a musical and be treated to an impromptu performance of most of the showstoppers, being variously hummed, whistled, and sung by the departing audience. And yet, such was not the case. Proper orchestration helps to give the music a truly visceral effect, as one's skin thrills to the cadenza of a trumpet and the rhythm thumps in one's chest. And yet, the reliance upon electronic instruments instead of tradition orchestration robbed the audience of such an effect and failed to produce the impromptu parking lot performances. Indeed, by the end of this show, one finds oneself willing to sell one's soul for a trumpet (one should note that is production made limited use of trumpet, played from backstage by a member of the cast, but the effect was limited) or one's firstborn for an entire brass section.
And yet, despite all of this, one truly wants to feel the transportation inherent in the genre. The cast performs with such effort that one truly wishes that their boundless goodwill can be translated into the audience identification their pains deserve. Jeroy Hannah, who was also featured in the Little Theatre's The Moustrap, presents the clear-cut and slightly uptight of Percival Browne to great effect. Hortense (Lariena Brown) struts her stuff to delightful effect in "Nicer in Nice." Nick Bushkar as Tony, who could not have been better rendered by Norman Rockwell, is the quintessential perfect young man, and Polly Browne's (Jonette Page) shock and dismay at the possible derailment of her fledgling love affair grips the heartstrings of anyone who has ever feared the same.
In the end, this production was to be seen once, repeat performances neither needed nor desired. The fault is not that of the cast, but instead should be placed directly at the feet of the community's limitations. However, it should also be noted that this author also barely managed to get a ticket to the performance. Evidently, it clicked for some. Given that the average age of the audience was "post-mortem," perhaps there is something that this author needs time to see.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Laughing Wild: Cardinal Rep
Life is tough, why must we make it tougher on ourselves? This is the message promulgated by award winning playwright Christopher Durang in his show Laughing Wild. Chronicling the course of events surrounding an ill-fated shopping trip for tuna fish, Mr. Durang suggests that life could indeed be easier if we all would just breathe, live, and empathize with our fellow humans.
Written during Durang's early years in New York City, a city which he regarded with the deepest fear and loathing, the damaged souls that he parades before the audience do what they can to cope, even if it requires violence. And yet, despite the fact that the minds of his characters are not merely twisted, but indeed are fully sprained, there is a hopeful call for understanding between fellow humans.
One of the limitations of this script, however, is its inherent topicality. Very much a product of 1980's angst, numerous references are made to Chernobyl, the rising AIDS epidemic, and the king-hell of all unsympathetic father figures, Ronald Reagan. Given this topicality, which borders on the level of stand-up comedy at times, one might wonder if Laughing Wild can still speak to audiences today. Indeed, topicality in scripts is an issue that one must wrestle with when considering production. Even hallowed Rent, very much a product of its times, has been considered a candidate for topical update, in the hopes that freshness will be retained if the transcendent message is leavened with fresh topicality. However, one should note that all truly great drama not only contains these connectors to transcend time and place, but also is firmly rooted in the milieu of the time in which it was created.
Laughing Wild is a product of the Boomer/Yuppie ennui of the 1980's, he who dies with the most toys wins. While there are striking similarities between that ennui and the existential boredom that currently infests the culture, one should note that they have distinct roots. While today's ennui is the outcome of failed economic policy, fear, and interminable war, that of the 1980's was far for affective upon the fringes. Given that the United States would soon emerge victorious from the Cold War as the world's last remaining superpower, there was a tinge of victory in those times. Yet, the ennui of Durang is very much that of one who will not share in the celebration. Thus, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds the director, Ms. Bridget Tunstall, and Cardinal Rep for refraining from updating this script. Only Twinkies keep their freshness unsullied through the ages, and keeping Laughing Wild rooted in the original context of the 80's actually helps the audience build a greater understanding of their own disillusionment by seeing that of another age honestly depicted.
Further, Caridal Rep has constructed, in Laughing Wild, a strong argument for its consideration as the flagship of Savannah's theatrical community. Given the spare set, really a stripped and repainted version of the Little Theatre's Moustrap, one is allowed to focus far more on the talents of actor and director without being distracted by flash. Ms. Tunstall, in her professional debut, has molded a moving and entertaining piece that reaches across the almost twenty years since its writing to shake the audience roughly awake and shine an almost Beckettian light in their faces. The acting, ably executed by Cardinal Rep Literary Director Phil Keeling and stalwart Valerie Lavelle, navigates the twisting, thesaurus infected stream of consciousness Mr. Durang has provided. Foundering upon the rocks of obscure referentiality or simple, ridiculous absurdism in order to keep the audience laughing would be easy with this piece, and yet the cast navigates well. Mr. Keeling effectively conveys the fear of one living in the United States and yet trying to retain that small shred of dignity and coherence that could all too easily be whisked away. Ms. Lavelle quite simply glows in the dark with the crushing madness of one who has already lost everything and now seeks only to survive.
Indeed, much can be said about the acting here. Which is another of the strengths of this piece, and Cardinal Rep's choice thereof. Though Edward Albee's Seascape had originally been planned for this slot, only having to be abandoned due to certain personnel issues, Laughing Wild has a particular strength in service the Cardinal Rep's mission to build an indigenous theatrical community for the city of Savannah. The sparse nature of this production, along with the opportunity for virtuoso performance from the city's actors, provides much-needed exposure to the talents available to the city's growing theatre. While Seascape is a wonderful play, it provides far less of this and therefor may be considered of lesser service to the development of Savannah's theatre community. Savannah now knows, because if they have not seen then The Savannah Dramaturgy is telling them, that there are some true virtuosos at their disposal. Further, we issue a warning that such talents MUST BE fostered if there Savannah truly aspires to have a theatre of its own. This extends to those groups outside of Cardinal Rep, and should be addressed across the board.
Finally, it is worth noting the intesly communitarian spirit felt in this production. The setting at the Freight Station Theatre is delightfully intimate and projects an aura of ongoing activity. In much the same way that mid-century movie houses would run their fare continually, including newsreels, on the off chance that one must step out and return, the feel around Cardinal Rep is very much that while you might miss one thing, the institution is here to stay. Indeed, if Mr. McCurdy and company keep this up, then The Savannah Dramaturgy prophesies that "The Rep" will soon become shorthand and an integral part of the Savannah lexicon.
Written during Durang's early years in New York City, a city which he regarded with the deepest fear and loathing, the damaged souls that he parades before the audience do what they can to cope, even if it requires violence. And yet, despite the fact that the minds of his characters are not merely twisted, but indeed are fully sprained, there is a hopeful call for understanding between fellow humans.
One of the limitations of this script, however, is its inherent topicality. Very much a product of 1980's angst, numerous references are made to Chernobyl, the rising AIDS epidemic, and the king-hell of all unsympathetic father figures, Ronald Reagan. Given this topicality, which borders on the level of stand-up comedy at times, one might wonder if Laughing Wild can still speak to audiences today. Indeed, topicality in scripts is an issue that one must wrestle with when considering production. Even hallowed Rent, very much a product of its times, has been considered a candidate for topical update, in the hopes that freshness will be retained if the transcendent message is leavened with fresh topicality. However, one should note that all truly great drama not only contains these connectors to transcend time and place, but also is firmly rooted in the milieu of the time in which it was created.
Laughing Wild is a product of the Boomer/Yuppie ennui of the 1980's, he who dies with the most toys wins. While there are striking similarities between that ennui and the existential boredom that currently infests the culture, one should note that they have distinct roots. While today's ennui is the outcome of failed economic policy, fear, and interminable war, that of the 1980's was far for affective upon the fringes. Given that the United States would soon emerge victorious from the Cold War as the world's last remaining superpower, there was a tinge of victory in those times. Yet, the ennui of Durang is very much that of one who will not share in the celebration. Thus, The Savannah Dramaturgy applauds the director, Ms. Bridget Tunstall, and Cardinal Rep for refraining from updating this script. Only Twinkies keep their freshness unsullied through the ages, and keeping Laughing Wild rooted in the original context of the 80's actually helps the audience build a greater understanding of their own disillusionment by seeing that of another age honestly depicted.
Further, Caridal Rep has constructed, in Laughing Wild, a strong argument for its consideration as the flagship of Savannah's theatrical community. Given the spare set, really a stripped and repainted version of the Little Theatre's Moustrap, one is allowed to focus far more on the talents of actor and director without being distracted by flash. Ms. Tunstall, in her professional debut, has molded a moving and entertaining piece that reaches across the almost twenty years since its writing to shake the audience roughly awake and shine an almost Beckettian light in their faces. The acting, ably executed by Cardinal Rep Literary Director Phil Keeling and stalwart Valerie Lavelle, navigates the twisting, thesaurus infected stream of consciousness Mr. Durang has provided. Foundering upon the rocks of obscure referentiality or simple, ridiculous absurdism in order to keep the audience laughing would be easy with this piece, and yet the cast navigates well. Mr. Keeling effectively conveys the fear of one living in the United States and yet trying to retain that small shred of dignity and coherence that could all too easily be whisked away. Ms. Lavelle quite simply glows in the dark with the crushing madness of one who has already lost everything and now seeks only to survive.
Indeed, much can be said about the acting here. Which is another of the strengths of this piece, and Cardinal Rep's choice thereof. Though Edward Albee's Seascape had originally been planned for this slot, only having to be abandoned due to certain personnel issues, Laughing Wild has a particular strength in service the Cardinal Rep's mission to build an indigenous theatrical community for the city of Savannah. The sparse nature of this production, along with the opportunity for virtuoso performance from the city's actors, provides much-needed exposure to the talents available to the city's growing theatre. While Seascape is a wonderful play, it provides far less of this and therefor may be considered of lesser service to the development of Savannah's theatre community. Savannah now knows, because if they have not seen then The Savannah Dramaturgy is telling them, that there are some true virtuosos at their disposal. Further, we issue a warning that such talents MUST BE fostered if there Savannah truly aspires to have a theatre of its own. This extends to those groups outside of Cardinal Rep, and should be addressed across the board.
Finally, it is worth noting the intesly communitarian spirit felt in this production. The setting at the Freight Station Theatre is delightfully intimate and projects an aura of ongoing activity. In much the same way that mid-century movie houses would run their fare continually, including newsreels, on the off chance that one must step out and return, the feel around Cardinal Rep is very much that while you might miss one thing, the institution is here to stay. Indeed, if Mr. McCurdy and company keep this up, then The Savannah Dramaturgy prophesies that "The Rep" will soon become shorthand and an integral part of the Savannah lexicon.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Crossing the Footlights: Theatre and the Public
"You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete."
--R. Buckminster Fuller
Admittedly, The Savannah Dramaturgy stole that quote from Theatre Ideas, but it is fitting to our topic nonetheless. Conventional wisdom is that the theatre is dying. Of course, according to that same wisdom, it has been dying for almost four thousand years. It is, in quite simple economic terms, unwieldy. Take into consideration, for example, the resource input, in terms of manpower alone, for a production of Death of a Salesman. Even if, during a three-week run, this piece is a smashing success and fills its 500 seat auditorium, that is still a fraction of the total audience exposure compared to a comparable piece of cinema.
Quite simply, the theatre cannot compete with cinema and television in terms of sheer numbers. The march of technology, along with the need to pay theatrical artists a living wage, has made that impossible. Instead, the theatre must offer a substantial qualitative difference from these other two art forms. While volumes have been written about the specific power of live performance, and this article does not attempt to deny said power, this power is but a fraction of the possible qualitative difference that the theatre can offer to patrons.
The remainder of this difference, in my opinion, is where the concept of local theatres in various cities becomes involved. Theatre companies looking to be truly competitive need to reach out across the footlights and grasp the hands of the community as a whole. Indeed, the community needs to feel somehow involved with the theatre company, to develop a relationship, in order that they may then begin to look out for the welfare of the company.
This locality is the very heart of the qualitative difference between the theatre and film. The average film, while it will reach far more people, stands less of a chance of building a strong relationship with an audience that counts than an organized local theatre company. Films, made wherever taxes are cheapest and shipped to all corners of the Earth, can tend to be impersonal and lack a real connection to the community in which they are filmed. Take, for example, Glory. This piece ostensibly took place, primarily, in Boston. Yet it was filmed right here in Savannah, GA.
Theatre, on the other hand, is forced to be local. Unless one is dealing with a bus or truck tour, theatre is irrevocably rooted to the city in which it is located. And, in order to be their most effective, they must acknowledge and act as if they are beholden to their community. This means, and this may be something of a shock to many thespians, crossing the footlights and living in the community. This can take many forms, from partnership with local business to participation in civic events to simply cutting the locals a deal to ensure they can afford the best.
Benefits from such engagement run two ways. Not only does the community have the advantage of brightly plumaged birds (artists) that help to raise property values and general quality of llife, but also it has access to quality entertainment that is truly their own. One of the louder laments from the critics of the Regional theatre is that these institutions are often maintained as an object of civic pride, as opposed to artistic merit. However, what city would boast a shallow theatre? But the theatre itself also benefits, and not only financially. It has an engaged audience that, if fostered properly, will support the organization in taking certain artistic leaps.
However, all this is only possible if the theatre takes the initiative. Unfortunately, thespians are creatures of immense inertia. Indeed, Frank Rutledge once told his theatre history class, "The reason theatre people do certain things is because that is the way things are done in the theatre." Essentially, one can become so isolated that one becomes detached from the audience. To become so is to forget the most important of the collaborators, the audience. So, The Savannah Dramaturgy reissues its challenge to the city of Savannah and the theatrical community. Link up, all will be the better for it.
--R. Buckminster Fuller
Admittedly, The Savannah Dramaturgy stole that quote from Theatre Ideas, but it is fitting to our topic nonetheless. Conventional wisdom is that the theatre is dying. Of course, according to that same wisdom, it has been dying for almost four thousand years. It is, in quite simple economic terms, unwieldy. Take into consideration, for example, the resource input, in terms of manpower alone, for a production of Death of a Salesman. Even if, during a three-week run, this piece is a smashing success and fills its 500 seat auditorium, that is still a fraction of the total audience exposure compared to a comparable piece of cinema.
Quite simply, the theatre cannot compete with cinema and television in terms of sheer numbers. The march of technology, along with the need to pay theatrical artists a living wage, has made that impossible. Instead, the theatre must offer a substantial qualitative difference from these other two art forms. While volumes have been written about the specific power of live performance, and this article does not attempt to deny said power, this power is but a fraction of the possible qualitative difference that the theatre can offer to patrons.
The remainder of this difference, in my opinion, is where the concept of local theatres in various cities becomes involved. Theatre companies looking to be truly competitive need to reach out across the footlights and grasp the hands of the community as a whole. Indeed, the community needs to feel somehow involved with the theatre company, to develop a relationship, in order that they may then begin to look out for the welfare of the company.
This locality is the very heart of the qualitative difference between the theatre and film. The average film, while it will reach far more people, stands less of a chance of building a strong relationship with an audience that counts than an organized local theatre company. Films, made wherever taxes are cheapest and shipped to all corners of the Earth, can tend to be impersonal and lack a real connection to the community in which they are filmed. Take, for example, Glory. This piece ostensibly took place, primarily, in Boston. Yet it was filmed right here in Savannah, GA.
Theatre, on the other hand, is forced to be local. Unless one is dealing with a bus or truck tour, theatre is irrevocably rooted to the city in which it is located. And, in order to be their most effective, they must acknowledge and act as if they are beholden to their community. This means, and this may be something of a shock to many thespians, crossing the footlights and living in the community. This can take many forms, from partnership with local business to participation in civic events to simply cutting the locals a deal to ensure they can afford the best.
Benefits from such engagement run two ways. Not only does the community have the advantage of brightly plumaged birds (artists) that help to raise property values and general quality of llife, but also it has access to quality entertainment that is truly their own. One of the louder laments from the critics of the Regional theatre is that these institutions are often maintained as an object of civic pride, as opposed to artistic merit. However, what city would boast a shallow theatre? But the theatre itself also benefits, and not only financially. It has an engaged audience that, if fostered properly, will support the organization in taking certain artistic leaps.
However, all this is only possible if the theatre takes the initiative. Unfortunately, thespians are creatures of immense inertia. Indeed, Frank Rutledge once told his theatre history class, "The reason theatre people do certain things is because that is the way things are done in the theatre." Essentially, one can become so isolated that one becomes detached from the audience. To become so is to forget the most important of the collaborators, the audience. So, The Savannah Dramaturgy reissues its challenge to the city of Savannah and the theatrical community. Link up, all will be the better for it.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Does Theatre Spend too Much Time Navel Gazing?
Recently reading my way through various theatre blogs, I was struck by the fact that many posts were simply "interviews" where a list of questions had been sent to one artist or another and their answers listed. Questions such as "What role does anger play in your work?" seemed to abound, and yet there really seemed to be very little said. This is not to insinuate that the questions were not answered, in many cases they were, but there seemed to be little real substance.
One, however, should not mistake this reference to "real substance" as a condemnation of the answers afforded by these artists. For the most part, the questions were answered truthfully and thoughtfully. However, what was lacking was that essential aspect of a good publication, the concept of significance.
While there is nothing inherently wrong with such questions, they must be posed for a specific reason. If a playwright's work is based in anger... what does this mean for the theatre? Similarly with a director, dramaturg, or any other given discipline, what is the significance of their mindset? Samuel Beckett, poet laureate of the Theatre of the Absurd, lamented his Nobel Prize in literature, assuming that commentators would then search to find meaning in his plays from the context of the man's life when, according to Beckett, his own life experience had little impact on his dramatic theory and expression. Beckett refused questioning, as opposed to embracing it, but had a significant reason for doing so.
The fact that playwrights do/do not draw much of their work from anger and frustration must be given a context. Quite simply, what does it mean? Might such a fact point to a decline in the standard of living, or other such source of frustration, and thereby the drama be turned outward as a weapon against the root of said frustration? Such would be the ideal.
Aristotle viewed good drama as having medicinal qualities. Brecht posited that impulses could be directed to affect social change. The Savannah Dramaturgy encourages these artists, particularly the originator of the questionnaire that is the centre of this article, to try and draw some significance from their attitudes. It will not only inform their drama, but also might assist in curing what ills them. Attitude without context is simply navel gazing, much akin to simply "being avant-garde" for the sake of being edgy, as opposed to finding it to be the most effective method of dramatic expression for one's own particular message.
One, however, should not mistake this reference to "real substance" as a condemnation of the answers afforded by these artists. For the most part, the questions were answered truthfully and thoughtfully. However, what was lacking was that essential aspect of a good publication, the concept of significance.
While there is nothing inherently wrong with such questions, they must be posed for a specific reason. If a playwright's work is based in anger... what does this mean for the theatre? Similarly with a director, dramaturg, or any other given discipline, what is the significance of their mindset? Samuel Beckett, poet laureate of the Theatre of the Absurd, lamented his Nobel Prize in literature, assuming that commentators would then search to find meaning in his plays from the context of the man's life when, according to Beckett, his own life experience had little impact on his dramatic theory and expression. Beckett refused questioning, as opposed to embracing it, but had a significant reason for doing so.
The fact that playwrights do/do not draw much of their work from anger and frustration must be given a context. Quite simply, what does it mean? Might such a fact point to a decline in the standard of living, or other such source of frustration, and thereby the drama be turned outward as a weapon against the root of said frustration? Such would be the ideal.
Aristotle viewed good drama as having medicinal qualities. Brecht posited that impulses could be directed to affect social change. The Savannah Dramaturgy encourages these artists, particularly the originator of the questionnaire that is the centre of this article, to try and draw some significance from their attitudes. It will not only inform their drama, but also might assist in curing what ills them. Attitude without context is simply navel gazing, much akin to simply "being avant-garde" for the sake of being edgy, as opposed to finding it to be the most effective method of dramatic expression for one's own particular message.
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