a poor player

Dunkirk NY – It is going to be a busy day today, as I return to classes for the last three weeks of the semester and prepare for acting juries, the presentation of 14 one-act plays from my directing class, and finals. So I had better get this post done now, or given today’s schedule (which runs until probably 11PM) I might never get another chance to write it.

What have I learned in the 30/30 challenge? I’ll give you a bullet list:

• I actually did it, and it certainly gave me a lot of great perspective on those who choose writing as a career. Having to get something on to the screen every single day is certainly a challenge in and of itself.
• I think maybe I have learned to write a little faster. I tend toward an academic style of writing which is quite deliberate, and I like my posts to read like well-composed and thoughtful essays. Usually that means a lot of deliberation on my part. This exercise has taught me to put things on the screen a little faster and gather my thoughts a little quicker.
• I have a small but dedicated readership. My biggest day was 50 hits, according to WordPress stats. I averaged about maybe 30 or so hits a day. Thanks to those who kept reading throughout this whole project.
• Since Scott Walters and I have formed an academic partnership in the area of revitalizing theatre curricula, we have discovered throughout this process that we share the same viewpoints on what the problems are, but each of us comes at solutions in a slightly different way. Thus we help each other gain perspective. It’s a great collegial relationship, and one which I think will continue to gain traction and steam over the coming years. Thanks Scott!
• As of this writing I have no theatrical projects in the immediate future. This 30/30 exercise makes me wonder how much more writing I can do, and if I should now, at this point in my career, pay more attention to my writing and less attention to actual theatrical production. I have thought on this question before, without making any real decisions, so perhaps the time is coming soon (over this winter break perhaps) to shed the actor/director skin and use the time to get thoughts in order and on paper. That might be quite hard, but it deserves some real thought.
• I had fun! Churning out a post a day was fun. Not every post was brilliant or even interesting, but one thing I did learn is that it was fun to sit down at some point each day and pound something out. I felt some excitement, some nervousness, and some urgency each day no matter what kind of day it was. It was never a chore.
• I think that I am gaining some more confidence in my writing, something I do lack. I’ve always admired writing but never thought I had the skill. I’ve always considered my style too academic for general readership. But perhaps in giving writing a little more focus, I can overcome that perception of myself and develop a style which has an academic underpinning but is not too stiff or formal. I’ll just have to keep at it.

That’s it I guess. I hope I didn’t bore anyone too much. Again, if you stayed with this, thanks for reading. I’ll give you a break for just a bit, but it may be that this habit will now become hard to break!    -twl

Dunkirk NY – I am cheating a little again, because rather than reply to Scott’s comment in my post of yesterday, I will make my reply a separate post. For convenience, here is Scott’s reply to Theatre 2.0:

Is this a problem to be solved, choosing one or the other, or a polarity to be managed, maintaining the strengths of both? Theatre 1.0 is not necessarily one-to-many — that is a model that became dominant in the scientific age that led to realism. Web 2.0 is not a many-to-many, really, but rather a your-turn-my-turn medium. Is there anything that stops theatre from doing that, other than this rigid attachment to the idea of the specialist-artist and the consuming-public?

Like you, I am equally drawn to Thoreau and Shirky, but I don’t think they are mutually exclusive. I don’t think…

My reply is that I think it’s an issue to be either solved or managed, and I prefer the second choice, maintaining the strengths of both. To me, it’s one of those issues that, if you don’t find a way to deal with it, then what happens is you get overwhelmed by it. Regardless of whether you view the communication capabilities of the internet as “many-to-many” or “your-turn-my-turn,” the critical question is how will theatre adapt to the realities of the existence of this form of communication? It’s something like how the creators of Google Wave approached their development of Google Wave: what would email look like if it were invented today? Ask the same question about theatre: What would theatre look like if it were invented today?

In addition, to me what’s really critical is the speed at which things change – I think few people, in their thinking and planning, are accounting for the speed at which technology changes. The initial impulse is to solve the problem in terms of the here and now, and not think too much about what your solution will be like 25 years from now in the face of cultural change. It happens everywhere in technology. Look what happened to the music industry when digital technology appeared. Records replaced by cassette tapes replaced by CDs replaced by mp3s replaced by – records (not really, but records are now glowing with the warmth of nostalgia and a niche market has grown up). It all moves fast, and my concern is not so much what this generation thinks, but what succeeding generations will bring to the table in terms of what they have grown up with and what their cultural and technological milieu has been.

For example, I teach stage acting. My students have not grown up with stage acting; they have grown up with movie acting, and I do not teach acting for the camera; in fact, we have no such course here. Students ten years ago were able to keep up with goings-on on Broadway to a limited extent; today they can read Variety and Playbill and can access all sorts of fan sites about their favorite shows and stars. More and more, students are appearing in their freshman year having been more influenced by American Idol and the mega-entertainment fashionable on Broadway rather than the dramatic literature of 60 years ago (or even 10 years ago; these kids do not even know names like Sam Shepard or Neil Labute). Alumni who graduated not 10 years ago comment all the time about the excessive use of the cell phone they see as they walk around campus; it’s the major change they point to. In terms of communicating with my students, it would be better if I could text them all as opposed to using mass emailings, because they do not check their email as frequently as when email was the only form of electronic communication. I text my youngest son all the time because it’s the fastest way to communicate with him, and I do so even to tell him to check his email when I need to send something longer than a text.

What it boils down to for me when I formulate these questions is whether or not the effort in terms of re-thinking theatre is founded on conserving the 1.0 model, or re-shaping a 2.0 model, all the while thinking about what a 3.0 model will look like. At Fredonia we are beginning to have the conversation about creating a 2.0 academic environment, and of course there are the predictable sides being taken: IT people want to preserve the current structure and cite security considerations, while progressive faculty and staff are pushing for adaptation of tools such as Google Apps for Education as replacements for in-house email, WebCT, Blackboard, Angel, and all the other Web 1.0 tools in place. The time it will take to solve all these political issues will be time lost in evaluation and adaptation, and more time lost in planning for the next technological innovation.

For me, Theatre 2.0 has to be an adaptive growth process which grapples realistically with how technology is changing cultural expectations and assumptions, and one which looks ahead as much as possible to the cultural realities of succeeding generations, rather than looking behind in McLuhan’s rearview mirror. -twl

PS – Scott, this is why we need to get on Google Wave!

Dunkirk NY – Lately my thoughts have been swirling around between the world of Henry David Thoreau and the world of Clay Shirky. Thoreau was noted for his observation that Texas and Maine, once they were connected by telegraph, may have nothing to say to each other. Shirky has observed that the internet allows all of our concerns to have equal and valid weight, and that in the digital age Texas and Maine are so interconnected that their concerns are similar and mutual.

This is going to be a difficult post to write, because I find myself equally attracted to both worlds without knowing which is the “right” world. On the one hand, the world of Thoreau preaches a slower, more localized approach to living, an approach which attempts to make life simpler. This notion fits in well with the basic foundational principles of community arts, since it has a rural foundation and a localized sensibility. On the other hand, Shirky points out that, for the first time in human history, a majority of people around the world now have within their grasp something he calls “many-to-many” communication. Individuals can now bypass all sorts of cultural and political institutions, creating new means of receiving and transmitting news and culture to ad hoc networks which they create on a “many-to-many” basis, as opposed to the standard “one-to-many” basis. Question: does this developing ability for “many-to-many” communication mean that people will soon be bypassing institutions like television, radio, movies and – gasp – theatre?

We are already seeing how bloggers have affected the professional class of journalists. Independent filmmakers are beginning to crack major holes into the Hollywood institutions. YouTube will sooner or later begin to replace television as homegrown sitcoms develop and mature.

It seems to me that, when you see all this technological development, theatre begins to look like a hapless, one-to-many, 1.0 institution. More to the point, eventually as generations turn over, how will you ever convince the emerging generation who will be raised from the cradle with this kind of technology that theatre is worth becoming involved in? What will babies being born today, breathing technology as they do air, think about theatre?

It is clear that Thoreau’s philosophy of how life should be lived, despite its romantic and, in many ways, practical appeal, never took hold in American culture as anything more than a romantic idea. Do we try to preserve theatre as Theatre 1.0, with its roots planted firmly and resolutely in its 2500-year-old tradition, or do we look to what the new technologies hold and try to imagine what Theatre 2.0 will try to be, as it revolves around new ideas of communities and new methods of communication? More on these questions in future posts.  -twl

Dunkirk NY - I understand the term “Black Friday” as the day that ushers in for me the darkest time of the year – literally. The next 60 days are the days with the least amount of daylight in them, and of course I can expect from this point on a series of winter events such as snow, slush, freezing rain and the like. Today is grey and rainy, which at this time of year is considered a good day. Any day which does not bring snow is considered a good day.

I would like winter better if I had a snowmobile, but of course they are too expensive and used too little to justify their cost. But I did go snowmobiling a few times with a friend who had one, and I must say the I really, really enjoyed it. Traveling along trails through the woods is a fantastic experience. It’s a way to get lost in the woods and see a lot of open country and actually feel like you’re going somewhere. The inns and stops along the way make it possible to have a destination in mind and then return home.

Particularly exciting to ride is Alleghany State Park. Just getting to the park via snowmobile trails is a challenge. Once there, the trails lead all through the park and then into Alleghany National Forest in PA. You can travel a good 70 miles via trails and get pretty close into central PA by the time you’re done. It’s really a great way to enjoy winter.

I had also found that another way to enjoy winter is snowshoeing, although you have to be in pretty good shape to go very far. The best, of course, is to go snowmobiling to a nice place in the woods, and then pull out the snowshoes and find a nice trail to walk.

My recent foot injury has prevented me from starting up my winter routine of exercising, which is the way I fight the winter darkness. I have been staring at my treadmill waiting for the day I can get back on and go, but the ache in the bottom of my foot still remains. A little blue light therapy and some exercise will have to serve for the time being until I can splurge for that snowmobile. I am willing to take any and all suggestions on fighting the blackness.  -twl

Dunkirk NY – Happy Thanksgiving! Do give thanks for what you have, but take a moment or two to be thankful for what your friends and neighbors have as well.  -twl

Dunkirk NY – The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. So wrote Henry David Thoreau in 1854 in his famous tome on simple living, Walden. On this Thanksgiving eve, I wonder if people are eager to talk about what they are thankful for because so much of the rest of their lives has this quiet desperation about it.

I count myself among those about whom Mr. Thoreau is speaking. But I wonder if, when he talks about despair, he is talking about personal despair, or the fact that a person can despair for people and conditions around him.

I think the cause of my own internal despair is the continuing and seemingly unstoppable cultural slide into mediocrity. I do not know how to stop this slide, and even if I did, I do not think I have the talent or ability to do so. The onslaught of cultural mediocrity is so massive and so intense that I have no words left to describe it.

Reading the facts from the NEA Cultural Workforce Forum has given me this renewed sense of despair, along with various other theatre news this week. Some of these facts I had already known, and nothing can cause despair more than facts. Here are a few culled from Ian’s post on the forum:

• US artists are highly concentrated in urban areas; a fifth of them reside in just five metropolitan regions. This causes some despair for those working for a return to grassroots community arts: how ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?
• The unemployment rate of artists rose twice as fast during the current recession as that of the overall workforce. This means it will take twice as long for artists to recover financially.
• They are more educated than the overall workforce, but do not earn as much compared to those with comparable education levels. This is a great marketing statistic for recruiting undergraduates to study the arts, no?
• Artists’ geographic distribution by state is quite unequal, with New York and California reporting more than twice the number of artists per capita than the average. In other words, flyover country has been practically abandoned by artists.

That’s just for openers. Here are the economic stats for you:

• Two-thirds hold at least one job in addition to art-making.
• Two-thirds made less than $40,000 in 2008. (ed – presumably before taxes)
• Artists who spent all of their time on art-making (as opposed to other jobs) had the highest overall income on average (an interesting result, though not one that implies a causal relationship).
• Half reported a decrease in art-related income over the past year.
• 40% report not having adequate health care.
• Artists use the internet for many things, but using it to sell their art is surprisingly not that common.
• Despite all this, 75% think it’s an inspiring time to be an artist.

What is most despairing is the final bullet point, that the vast majority of artists, despite the economic realities cited above, still think it’s an inspiring time to be an artist. What’s despairing about this point is its utter delusional quality. If artists have become so delusional, how can one hope for a victory against the rising tide of mediocrity?

Want more? Perhaps most despairing of all to me, the educational bullets:

• One of the most surprising findings was that schools themselves, for the most part, have no idea how many of their alumni end up in the arts. Collectively, they only even had email addresses for barely more than half of their graduates, and 20% of those bounced back undeliverable.
• A postcard was sent to those without an email address, but less than 1% of recipients took the survey as a result.
• Among the respondents, those who had become professional artists were more likely to hold multiple jobs. 58% had three or more.
• The survey saw some extremely polarized responses. 95% of respondents reported satisfaction with the artistic training they’d received. Yet only 37% felt that their programs had given them adequate leadership training, and just 3% felt that they had been well prepared in financial matters. This despite the fact that more than 40% of graduates started their own businesses.
• Half said that student loan debt had influenced their career choices.
• Of the nonprofessional artist graduates, 44% said that they continue to practice their art in some fashion. (All bolding mine).

So to sum this up, schools have no idea whether or not their curricula or educational methods actually work based on any data about their graduates; students are clearly confused about how much they enjoyed their education as opposed to how useful it was (3 jobs?); and we do not know what the phrase “in some fashion” actually means (do they do community theatre? sing at the local church on Sunday? sing in the shower? paint landscapes for the local coffeehouse?)

In reading over these statistics yesterday and today, and then contemplating the billions of dollars spent on mediocre art and entertainment such as one can find in the movies and on television (not to mention the theatre), I find the overall picture bleak and despairing. It affects me personally because I spend so much time educating artist hopefuls. What kind of wisdom can one possibly impart?

Since Thoreau started all this, perhaps I should let him finish with another quote from Walden:

The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior. What demon possessed me that I behaved so well? You may say the wisest thing you can, old man–you who have lived seventy years, not without honor of a kind–I hear an irresistible voice which invites me away from all that. One generation abandons the  enterprises of another like stranded vessels.

-twl

Dunkirk NY – You must read this post on Createquity. It is a wrap-up of the recent NEA Cultural Workforce Forum, and it’s excellent. I have been reading these rather obscure reports from the NEA for awhile now, and basing a lot of my critique of theatre curricula based on its information, but this is the first time I’ve seen the NEA actually hold a forum on this information and discuss the findings. It’s very interesting stuff.

I want to sort through the wrap-up in more detail before commenting on it, as well as try to get in the actual webcast (which is not yet archived). There is a lot to take in here, and a lot of ramifications for arts education. It will take a bit of time, especially over the holidays.  -twl

Dunkirk NY – Well, well, well – it appears I was asleep at the switch when my blogging tag-team partner Scott Walters started up TheatreIdeas again. Amazing what post-tenure review will do for a man!

And you know what? That gives me a day off, because this post counts for today’s posts, but you get to go over and read the latest from Scott instead of me – a great post entitled Standards of Education. And for those of you not in the know, Scott and I are in the planning stages of creating a joint blog which we hope will debut after the first of the year, a blog that concentrates on issues in theatre education and curriculum. We will probably make the joint announcement once it’s up and running.

Speaking of theatre curricula, this came in concerning a new MA program in Applied Theatre at USC School of Theatre by way of API News. It has me wondering if the notion of community arts education isn’t something that needs to happen more at the MA level than the BA level.  -twl

Note World Series Cap

Dunkirk NY – Last night I attended a basketball game between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Philadelphia 76ers. Two of my department colleagues and I had bought tickets early in the semester in the hopes of seeing LeBron James and Shaquille O’Neill play on the same team together. Shaq was unfortunately out with a shoulder injury, but LeBron was his usual outstanding self. It was a decent enough game.

More striking that the game, however, was the sensory overload of everything that went on around the game. In fact, it could be said that the entire event was really one huge piece of entertainment where a basketball game broke out every once in a while.

It was the first time I’ve experienced an indoor Jumbotron. Yikes. The thing is large, and assaults the eyes with non-stop images. The LED ring around the entire arena is always animated. Spotlights and mirror balls. The Scream Team and the Cav Girls. The Wheelchair Cavaliers at halftime. The kid traveling teams. All manner of dance routines. Jumbotron interviews. And at the beginning of the game, the unbelievably dramatic introduction of the players, complete with flames spewing from the Jumbotron (video taken with phone). Both my colleagues and I sat in stark amazement, wondering how we could ever get anything like this in our shows, knowing that we couldn’t. We can’t compete with that (can we, JT?). When you realize that 20,000 people in that arena get exposed to this on a regular basis, and that’s what they expect entertainment to be, you really despair of live language-based theatre ever making a real comeback with the general public. The sensory overload is off the charts.

So I had to counteract that today with a scooter ride on an unusually lovely late November afternoon. My ride took me down to Long Point State Park on the east side

Long Point State Park

of Chautauqua Lake. My foot is still hurting from last Monday’s accident and causing me to limp slightly, so I was unable to hike any trails. Rather, I sat by the lake, remembered it was the anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination, and thought to myself that it all began to go downhill from that moment. Kennedy’s administration remains for me a time where the arts were still on center stage in the American public, and the NEA was formed out of that spirit of culture. So much has been lost since then. The silence of the ride after the assault by decibel of the basketball game provided a welcome relief and proved to be a soul-calming experience.

I’ve been having trouble with words of late, because it has seemed to me that words no longer can contain or explain many of the thoughts and feelings I have swimming about in my brain, and I seem to be unable to convey myself adequately to students with my words. The contrast of last night and today put that in some focus. From the overload of images, sound and sensation to the quiet of the woods, the soft lapping of the lake on the shore, the rush and slight chill of the wind around and through the body as I move down the road, words themselves seem to play a very small role in all that. I am thankful for that – no need to explain anything to anybody.  -twl

Dunkirk NY – If there is one decision I made in my life which I truly regret, perhaps it was the decision not to move to Seattle WA in 1977. Had I done so, I probably would have been in on the ground floor of the Seattle theatre scene, and my life no doubt would be quite different.

I was in NYC at the time, had just left the NYU MFA program, and was trying to think about what to do next. As a city, Seattle had always fascinated me from the moment I first visited it in 1976. My wife and I had developed a plan whereby we would move to Seattle, get jobs, and after a year to establish state residency requirements, I would audition for the University of Washington’s MFA acting program and hopefully get to study with Duncan Ross. But the lure of a full-time high school teaching job in upstate NY, an area I absolutely love, lured me away from taking the risk of moving to Seattle. I actually turned that job down initially, but they came back a second time, and I thought that to have that job offered twice to me meant that I should take it. I quit after four months at that job. Eight months of nearly penniless living later, I was enrolled in the MFA at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, mostly as a means to escape debt.

It’s not necessarily the road less traveled, but the road not traveled that comes back to haunt you.  -twl