Before I Go A-Wandering
Dunkirk NY – Posting has been light because I’m in something of a vacation mode. Since closing The Tempest 10 days ago, I’ve been working to re-orient my daily routine to something more akin to what it usually is during the school year. I’ve been resting, trying to get back on a more normal sleep pattern, eating better, and so forth. I think I’m there just about now. I call this my de-compression routine. I am always a little taken aback at how long it actually takes to re-adjust mental and physical routines. Your body really gears up during a show, and getting that physical and psychological “there’s a show tonight” feeling takes more time than I’d really like it to. Tomorrow it’s off in the car to visit Eric at Blue Ridge Dinner Theatre down in the hills of Virginia. That’s when the real vacation begins.
As a consequence theatre hasn’t been much on my mind lately, even though I have been doing my best to keep up with readings in the blogosphere. I have been taking mental notes on some of the things I’d like to write about, but they will have to wait until after vacation. I’ll give you a preview of those topics, but before I do, here’s some thoughts prompted by a post by David Cote in Time Out New York that got me thinking a bit on the nature of blogging (h/t 99 seats, whose own post was also thought-provoking). Two quotes for context, first from Mr. Cote:
5. Bloggers: Engage/enrage
This item will generate noise (and that’s the point): I wish bloggers would mix it up more. Does it take a Rachel Corrie fiasco to generate heat? The theater blogosphere has been dull, insular and quiet lately. We need more arguments, more dirt, more bloody knock-down-drag-out fights. Not just self-promotion, obscure manifestos and production diaries. And here’s hoping for a new breed of long-form critics worth reading.
And from 99 Seats:
It’s a larger problem with our community. David is asking the bloggers to “engage and enrage” with a community that doesn’t want to engage and certainly doesn’t want to be enraged. We’re on the outside and, in fact, as long as we seriously attempt to engage, in the blogosphere, or enrage or criticize, we’re going to stay on the outside….Only certain people are invited to join the actual conversation or, even more important, the actual doing of things, contributing, and once you get your ticket punched, you’re in and you’re not coming back out. Talking to the people howling outside the gates is now beneath you, or at least possibly damaging to your credibility and credentials. So you don’t.
Now, since Mr. Cote does write primarily for a NYC-centric audience, it’s pretty obvious he’s probably not all that concerned with bloggers outside the NYC sphere of influence. It’s upfront in the title of his piece – “Nine Wishes for NYC Theatre.” He’s addressing himself to NYC bloggers only. And hence the problem, because, like it or not, since theatre on a national level is subsumed by and preoccupied with NYC theatre in general, his call for bloggers to “engage and enrage” will no doubt be interpreted as a national call to bloggers everywhere. So what’s a theatre blogger living outside NYC supposed to do with this call?
There is, of course, a subliminal, subconscious pecking order in the blogosphere (in case you hadn’t noticed), which places those people blogging in NYC about NYC theatre (indie and otherwise) as those people who are blogging about the “real” action in theatre. Like most sociological phenomena, it wasn’t consciously created; it just came to be, rather like gender bias. So no matter how much we attempt to “engage and enrage” with the bloggers of NYC, no one there is truly going to take anyone outside the city seriously if we make any suggestions about theatre or how to reform it. I mean, when was the last time you read about a panel on theatre bloggers and theatre blogging which had as one of its participants a blogger from outside NYC? Bloggers like myself who blog outside the realm of NYC are even more on the outside than someone like 99 Seats.
It would be nice if the NYC blogosphere would look up long enough to try and get a pulse on the rest of the country theatrically and at least acknowledge its existence (it would be too much to expect them to “engage and enrage” the country as a whole). That’s why I have a lot of respect for Terry Teachout as a critic who sojourns every year to see theatre outside of New York and write about it in the Wall St. Journal, and for Leonard Jacob’s Clyde Fitch Report, who makes the attempt to educate others about voices outside NYC with his From The Blogroll section.
So how about this for Mr. Cote and the NYC blogosphere in general as an “engaging and enraging” statement: The biggest problem with NYC theatre – one Mr. Cote fails to mention – is that it is doing nothing more than perpetuating the notion, held by the nation at large, that theatre is, by and large, a gay art form written by effete, white, upper-middle-class liberal types who are concerned largely with musicals and with plays where whining characters can’t look up from gazing at their navels long enough to get a real life. It has nothing to say to anyone outside NYC or its own practitioners. It is, furthermore, wholly unconcerned with communicating with ordinary people about national problems such as high unemployment, recession, Wall St. terrorism, unending and useless wars, government secrecy and illegality, racism, poverty, or other national ills (unless, of course, we can turn these topics into a musical). If it does do this, it does so only in a way its own practitioners can understand. It believes we should all be watching 7 hours of Les Ephemeres.
Engaging enough? Enraging enough? I’ll leave the reader to decide whether or not I am actually serious, just being sarcastic, blowing professorial smoke, playing devil’s advocate, re-casting myself as an ancièn terrible, or just being a curmudgeonly pain in the ass. Your call.
Upon returning from vacation, here are some topics I want to take up:
- Gender and the theatre. I am not willing to say that gender bias doesn’t exist, but I am not sure if the nature of theatre as an art form doesn’t lend itself to the possibility that some roles in the theatre fit one gender better than the other. Example: I can’t think of the last time I worked with a male stage manager. Is there something about stage managing which lends itself more to the “feminine” aspects of our human nature than the “masculine” (assuming you agree that we all carry feminine and masculine traits)?
- Writing style. In the blogs I read, I can always detect a personal style. Getting to know someone’s style is important to understanding what they are saying. Sometimes I think the issue of style is not accounted for very well by readers of blogs.
- The obstacles in the way of the grassroots theatre movement. I am a great believer in the <100K Project championed by my theatrical comrade Scott Walters, but I think the movement needs to understand the serious cultural obstacles standing in its way. We need concrete strategies to overcome the Wal-Marting of art. Perhaps we can take a tip by trying to understand how small businesses have fought Wal-Mart itself and what have been the result of those strategies.
- Theatre Education. This is, of course, my main pursuit and interest in life. I want to write not so much talking about how to reform theatre curricula or whether or not an MFA is a good degree to get, but why the theatre community as a whole does not take the issue of theatre education and training seriously, and why they are so disassociated with the education of young artists in this country.
- Perceptions about theatre held by non-theatre goers. I recently went to a show written by some students of mine which made me begin to seriously ponder how theatre is viewed by our students and, more specifically, their parents and other family members. It’s an issue which gets little play, but it has a lot to do with whether or not theatre will ever be accepted back inot modern culture.
That’s all I got for now. It’s time to pack and practice how to say “you all” like a southerner. I’ll be returning sometime in the first week of August. -twl
[...] A Poor Player, Tom Loughlin assures everyone he’s “in something of a vacation mode” since [...]
“Engaging enough? Enraging enough? I’ll leave the reader to decide whether or not I am actually serious, just being sarcastic, blowing professorial smoke, playing devil’s advocate, re-casting myself as an ancièn terrible, or just being a curmudgeonly pain in the ass. Your call.”
This seems gutless to me. Why don’t you actually step up and identify which of the statements in the paragraph preceding the one excerpted here you actually believe to be true?
Hello Mac,
Thanks fro commenting! I hope, though, you’ll forgive me if I don’t take the bait. One of the oldest teaching techniques in the books is to throw out an outlandish statement at the beginning of a class and let students dissect and analyze it. It’s most often used in philosophy classes, but occasionally I use it in my theatre classes. As a teacher I believe it’s my obligation to be able to cogently argue any side of an argument so as to better develop critical thinking skills in my students. Hopefully I am skilled enough at this technique that a student would have a difficult time ascertaining what side of an argument would be my personal choice. I do not want my students believing something because “I said so” or because they want to mimic my personal choices. I want them to believe something because they’ve worked it out for themselves.
Every writer has her or his personal style when it comes to writing. This is as true of bloggers as it is of any other writer. If you have read some samplings of my other posts, I think in the end, once you’ve determined what my personal style of writing is and what habits of mind I reveal in my writing, you’ll be able to determine for yourself which of the statements I actually believe is true. I think that will be more fruitful for both of us than simply having me “step up” and declare myself. -twl
Growl!
Hi Tom. I was a little hesitant to comment here because I’m getting the sense from all of these blogs that this is really a penis measuring contest and not a sincere interest in changing the landscape of the American theater. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m new to the theater blogs.
I sort of agree with you about how focused on itself New York theater is and the general perception that it is an elitist art form. I write about class-ism in the theater constantly. That said, I was totally offended by your inclusion of “teh gays” in that summation.
It really, really seemed like you were insinuating that LGBT folks belonged to some sort of privileged class and that our stories should be purged from the theater to make it more populist. Maybe I read too much into a what was a small piece of a larger statement. I hope I did.
The theater is one of the only places gay people have a real voice. And yes, a lot of us live in big fancy cities. It’s not because we’re rich. I’m certainly not. It’s because our birth communities rejected us. Please believe me when I say that I never felt safe if my picturesque small town as a child. Not once. Not even in my own home. I never felt safe until I was eighteen and went to art school in liberal, effete Seattle. I live in New York now even though I can’t afford it because I feel safe and comfortable here. So, for me, your comment equating being gay to being part of some sort of elite class was offensive because I feel it’s a miracle that gay kids make it to adulthood at all in this country.
And then you go on to write that we should be producing more plays about racism and sexism. What gives? My struggle bores you or something?
In closing, I’d like to see how many gay plays get produced in rural America. I think theater should be made by and for its community. For instance, I run a theater space in the East Village. My audience is under 30, poor, liberal, of mixed sexuality and mixed race. It is not at all like the audience you describe. People generally ignore the real communities of New York when writing blogs like yours as if, like, The Public or MTC in any way represents an entire city. Why should a theater in rural Kansas want to do what we’re doing? Why would we want to do what they’re doing?
Two things.
1) As Isaac at Parabasis pointed out, I work for a magazine called Time Out New York. In what way am I responsible for addressing the nationwide theater scene, including your niche? I mean, I’m flattered, but your ire might be more profitably directed at bigger fish. As a corollary, I find it ironic that a NYC-centric story supporting its own community is tasked with the job of representing you as well. Shouldn’t you be busy representing yourself, not expecting us to do it?
2) My “engage/enrage” provocation to bloggers is somehow construed as small-minded, yet yours—with its gratuitous homophobia and classism (however rhetorical)—is a teaching moment? No thanks, prof.
Yeah, Tom. Weak move. Throwing a homophobic bomb into the conversation and then asking us, “Well, did I REALLY mean it?” is pure cowardess. There’s nothing fruitful to be gained from the conversation when all you’re contributing is coy provocation. Where’s the lesson? You’re sincere, and thus a homophobe with no real grasp of what theatre in New York is? You’re not sincere, and willing to throw your gay brothers and sisters in theatre under the bus for the sake of a point? A point that remains utterly indeterminate?
Here, I’ve got one. If only those blacks would write theatre that didn’t so doggedly exclude the white experience. Honestly, it’s so alienating. Do they think they’re better than everyone else or something? I think they do. I think they’re just racists who play the race card to inure themselves against criticism.
Okay, pop quiz! Did I REALLY mean that?
Horse shit, Tom. And weak sauce of the first degree. Shenanigans, twice over.
Hi all,
Thanks for commenting here. I do appreciate the feedback from all of you. It’s most welcome. You all deserve carefully crafted responses, so I’ll do my best with as few words as possible.
Rhetorical devices of the type I employed in my post are a time-honored tradition going back at least to the Roman writers, if not before (some argue the Egyptians invented the style). Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal” is the classic example of the use of satirical and outlandish rhetoric to discuss a real issue. Of course there were many in England and Ireland who, when they read the essay, did not immediately recognize it as a satire, but took it seriously and heaped no end of derision on Mr. Swift (who had published the essay anonymously in the first place; he must have known what was coming) for his abominable and cruel essay. I’m sure all of you would agree that Mr. Swift was not in favor of cannibalism, but merely used the device to heap scorn on those in his time who proposed simplistic solutions to the complex problems of his day.
My use of such a rhetorical device (an extreme, outrageous statement) was to suggest that Mr. Cote’s suggestion that bloggers “engage and enrage” is, in my opinion, too simplistic a solution for the complex issues facing American theatre. Anyone can devise an “engaging/enraging statement.” I have nothing but respect and admiration for Mr. Cote; he’s insightful and interesting as a writer, and one of my primary sources for trying to keep some tabs on what’s happening in NYC (despite my belief that theatre as an art form is too NYC-centric, what does happen there cannot be simply dismissed – it has repercussions for us all). I just happen to believe his “call” is misplaced enthusiasm and will only serve to distract us all from the real issues facing theatre, both in NYC and across the country.
In my opinion, the use of a recognized rhetorical device is neither cowardice nor “weak sauce.” Good writers have been using such devices for centuries. You may believe that I used the device poorly, and that may be true. But if you’re trying to connect the words I used in a rhetorical device to my own personal beliefs, then you might as well accuse Mr. Swift of cannibalism. I know this argument won’t satisfy some of my critics, but it’s not often in any debate that the debating parties ever really convince the other. All we can do in the end is agree to disagree.
Finally, I hope no one in this conversation is naive enough to think that there are not SOME people in this country who ACTUALLY believe what I wrote. My GLBT brothers and sisters do not get to experience what I get to experience as a heterosexual male: that unmistakable but unspoken glance or fleeting expression which says “but you’re not gay” when I tell non-theatre acquaintances I’m an actor and work in the theatre. I don’t run into this situation as much now as when I was a younger actor, but it’s real. You feel the pressure to prove you’re straight, and then you have to fight that urge, because you know there’s nothing to prove. You want to challenge the look, but you don’t quite know how without the situation becoming socially awkward. You should experience how angry and frustrated my straight male acting students get when they run into this same situation time and again on campus. And of course, my gay male students get the reverse: the look that says “of course you’re a theatre major – you’re gay.” I’ve spent over 25 years working through these kinds of situations with my students and myself. Perhaps these, and other critical issues, ought to be what we should discuss, not in an “engaging/enraging” fashion, but rather in a calm, open-minded and respectful conversation.
And maybe a beer or two will help. Thank you for listening. -twl
So….first, you compare yourself to Swift (a specious analogy at best, given that rhetoric such as you employed is hardly rare in discussions of the arts; Swift was operating out of a genuinely outrageous thesis taken to a grotesque conclusion, while you use inflammatory signifiers that have been conservative talking points since always), and then you slide into self-pity. You’re right, Tom. Most gays have never had “that look” from people. How hard it must have been to assert your heterosexuality in the face of such oppression! I don’t know how you managed. You have my sympathies.
No, I take it back. I couldn’t care less if you and your students experience homosexual panic in the face of a misunderstanding. I’ve experienced plenty of misgivings about my sexuality, and I don’t feel the need to clarify it. Not here or elsewhere. I have no sympathy for the plight of the heterosexual actor. You verge dangerously close to “white man’s burden” language here.
One apology, though: ‘cowardice’ is the appropriate spelling, not ‘cowardess’. Very silly of me.
There is a difference, Tom, between satire of conservative bitchery and employment of same. And it’s not subtlety.