The Cruelest Month
Dunkirk NY – Vacation’s over. These next few weeks will be spent preparing for the coming semester. For the first time in about 10 years I have a large lecture class to prepare. I also have the approaching Middle States accreditation to prepare for. T.S. Eliott was incorrect – August is the cruelest month. As soon as the word “August” comes out of my mouth, I know the time is short to when I have to pick up the daily grind again. But I must say that so far this summer has been one of the best in a few years. I did one show, worked summer orientation, took an actual vacation (by which I mean traveling to places where I don’t live for the express purpose of seeing new things and enjoying new places), and now have about three weeks still to prepare for the fall semester. That is not shabby. Regrettably, I neglected my Middle States duties a bit, and will have to play catch-up this month and through October, but I think it has been worth the price.
The Blue Ridge Parkway
I think the best day of the vacation was Saturday August 1. On that day Ann Marie and I drove a pretty good stretch of the Blue Ridge Parkway, from Asheville NC to Fancy Gap VA. The weather was perfect. The road itself is magnificent, rolling through some absolutely remarkable vistas. When driving on the BRP you experience the absolute sensation of being in another time and place, as on almost every part of the road the realities of 21st-century US culture are hidden from view. We spent too much money at the Folk Arts Center outside Asheville (which we actually visited the day before), I had a terrific, juicy hamburger at the small diner at Doughton Park, and had to tear myself away from the Music Center, where Ricky Skags was playing that night, because we had motel reservations in Charleston WV.
What was most amazing to me was that, during the whole drive of probably 190 miles at 45 MPH, I never felt the road was crowded. On a beautiful Saturday afternoon I would have thought that the road would have been choked with drivers out for a Saturday drive. Not so. I was never in a “line” of more than five cars at any time, and those always broke up soon. Often I found myself to be the only car I could see either ahead or in my rear-view mirror. Pretty sweet! I now have the goal at some point to drive the length of the BRP on my scooter in both directions. With available camping, that is a summer vacation in and of itself.
Eric (l) as an Oxen on one of the Jack Tales
I did see some theatre along the way, all of which sparked some interesting ruminations. The central purpose of the trip was to see my son Eric working at his first summer gig at the Blue Ridge Dinner Theatre in Ferrum VA, which has been in existence since 1978. While there I saw a presentation of the Jack Tales, and productions of Nunsense Jamboree and Alice in Wonderland. Before I left, I saw a production of a new musical entitled Spirit, written and produced by a music student at Fredonia and featuring some of my acting students. And in Asheville I saw a production of The Taming of the Shrew by the Montford Park Players, an apparently non-professional (i.e. actors and other artistic staff are volunteers) Shakespeare outdoor theatre company which has been in existence for 37 years. The most interesting thing about all these theatre experiences was that they were all locally-grown theatre.
The MPP Production of Shrew
All this local theatre-viewing led me to consider the question of quality in theatre performances, but in particular the question of quality as it pertains to locally-produced theatre. It also led me to consider questions about audience perceptions of quality, and of theatre in general. I’ll be writing on these questions in the next few posts, as well as on some of the issues listed in my last post before I left for vacation.
I am a big fan of the idea of locally produced theatre, theatre that is connected in a vital way to the community, and I will say that all the theatre I saw during this trip had that particular virtue. The Blue Ridge Dinner Theatre is supremely popular in its region. The production of Spirit was the first attempt at writing a musical by this young student, and it had its cadre of loyal supporters at the opening. And the Montford Park Players hasn’t lasted for 37 seasons because it lacks local support.
Yet each of these theatrical events lacked theatrical quality; they were not good productions. But regardless of their lack of quality, audiences for all of these events clapped, cheered, laughed, and offered standing ovations. This is what I want to explore in succeeding posts. What, exactly, is the relationship between theatrical quality and locally produced theatre? What standards, if any, should we expect? -twl
