From the Executive Summary

• In the 2010-2011 season, approximately 62% of all Broadway tickets were purchased by tourists.
• Sixty-five percent of the audiences were female.  
• The average age of the Broadway theatregoer was 44 years, older than in the past few seasons.
• Eighty-three percent of all tickets were purchased by Caucasian theatregoers.
• Broadway theatregoers were a very well-educated group.  Of theatregoers over 25 years old, 78% had completed college and 39% had earned a graduate degree.
• The average Broadway theatregoer reported attending 5 shows in the previous 12 months.
• Playgoers tended to be more frequent theatregoers than musical attendees.  The typical straight play attendee saw eight shows in the past year; the musical attendee, five.
• Fourty-four percent of respondents said they bought their tickets online.
• Bullet about the female audience deleted. (sic)
• In general, advertisements were not reported to have been influential in making the purchasing decision.
• The average Broadway theatregoer reported attending 5 shows in the previous 12 months. The group of devoted fans who attended 15 or more performances comprised only 6% of the audience, but accounted for 33% of all tickets (4.1 million admissions). 

Source: www.broadwayleague.com

Given all the demographics we know about theatre in the US and westernized countries today, I think it’s safe to make the following conclusion: Theatre is primarily for white people, as both audience members and practitioners.

When I first saw these statistics, I got those old familiar feelings of guilt and anguish, that it’s a “bad thing” that theatre isn’t shared or enjoyed by large numbers of non-whites. I would like it to be – I would like everyone to like and enjoy theatre. I would like more white people to enjoy theatre (those numbers, although large, represent only a small fraction of the population as a whole, maybe 2% according to the NEA research on arts participation). I would like to see audiences grow, witness theatre houses full with a diverse crowd of theatre-goers. Clearly, it ain’t happening.

But then the question came to me – is it so bad to admit that theatre is for white people? White western culture has, for better or worse, risen to a dominant position in this multicultural, heterogeneous society that has evolved in this country, and because of that fact alone it is subject to criticism and the push of upward mobility from cultural forces below (at times rightfully so). But perhaps it’s just worth the few seconds it takes to stop and  consider the idea that white people, like any other culture or race, deserve to have a culture and forms of art that they enjoy and that is reflective of their values and history. Theatre, as it has evolved from the Greeks, seems to be one of those cultural art forms that people of white European descent have enjoyed for a long time (and the majority of them enjoyed it until the advent of mass media). And that, in and of itself, is OK. Isn’t it?

This is not to say that other races or ethnic groups do not have theatre or do not enjoy it. But the particular form of the scripted written work as interpreted by actors in a linear story-telling fashion seems to be one that has interested western Caucasians for a long time, and apparently continues to do so for a certain demographic slice of white people as a whole.

Now am I not arguing that non-whites do not enjoy theatre and participate in it. Of course they do. But statistically speaking, on the whole, non-whites simply do not appear interested in the art form as defined above. No other race or ethnic group charts in double digit percentages either as audience members or practitioners of “legit” theatre. The question that really needs to be asked to probe these numbers more carefully is whether or not these low numbers are the result of institutional discrimination, or simply general disinterest in the art form. I suspect many people will want to believe the former, but the numbers seem to indicate that perhaps the latter is closer to reality. One aspect of this question that needs serious consideration is the economic inequality question, but even that may reveal that whites are more willing to sacrifice economic hardship to see and do theatre.

Perhaps an example will serve to illustrate the point. During the Negro League era of baseball, a sport created by Caucasians, the institution of Major League Baseball clearly discriminated against African-American players. But it was also pretty clear that African-Americans were interested in baseball – enough to form and maintain their own league as a viable business on a national level, and populate it with first-class talent.

By comparison, African-American theatre companies today are few and far between, and the non-white plays that make it to professional theatres in New York and regionally are mostly viewed by the same white patrons who like the art form. I found three different listings of African-American theatres, and none listed more that 100 theatres nationwide. Of the 20 theatres listed on the Theatre Alliance of Buffalo website, 2 (10%) are primarily African-American (Buffalo is 38.6% African-American); one exists in name only, and the other produces rarely. Nor have I seen any indication that African-Americans are dominating the audiences at The Motherfucker with the Hat, nor are Asian-Americans the majority audiences at Chinglish. All this is not by way of criticism, mind you – if the interest isn’t there, then there is nothing really to criticize. To each their own.

The thing about having a passion for something like theatre is that you really, really want to share that passion. It is difficult to accept that statistically many people out there simply don’t share your passion for or interest in theatre. They have other things they enjoy doing more. When we talk about audience development, isn’t that what we are trying to do? Get people who are fundamentally uninterested in our passion to share it with us? Statistically that doesn’t seem to be working so well, particularly among the young. Perhaps the time has come to say that theatre is what it is – an art form for older, well-off, educated white people. Nobody else is truly interested in it at the moment, because the numbers do not indicate any support for the art form beyond this small slice of the American demographic profile.

Discussions like these make people feel uneasy. Heck, I feel uneasy writing about it. I’m not even sure I am doing the right thing writing about it. But statistics, while not necessarily speaking anything one would label “the truth,” do carry a certain reality about them. For theatre, the current reality is that the art form is an art form for and about white people. This reality does not mean that crossover artists don’t exist; August Wilson is one of the most revered playwrights in modern theatre. And, just as many white people enjoy an art form like rap/hip-hop, which has its roots in African-American culture (as does jazz), many non-whites enjoy the art form of theatre. But I don’t think we should spend a lot of time wailing and gnashing our teeth anymore and feeling guilty over the constant barrage of data that indicates that theatre is a culturally Caucasian art form. We should just admit the obvious, say it’s OK, and move on – unless we can absolutely ascertain that these numbers are a result of institution discrimination. What is important is that theatre remain an open “big tent” art form, open and welcoming to all comers of whatever creed or race or nationality. -twl

Goethe’s final words: “More light.” Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that’s been our unifying cry, “More light.” Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlelight. Neon, incandescent lights that banish the darkness from our caves to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier’s Field. Little tiny flashlights for those books we read under the covers when we’re supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, lead thou me on; the night is dark and I am far from home; lead thou me on. Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge, light is life, light is light.

Chris in the Morning, from the television show Northern Exposure.

And once again, Marilyn and her friends perform the story of The Raven.

Tomorrow begins a stretch of time wherein I will have few days off that are not holidays. I begin rehearsal for The Hostage at the Irish Classical Theatre Company up in Buffalo. Once that opens, I will begin rehearsal for a new play by playwright and poet Red Shuttleworth, High Plains Fandango. By that time I will be performing in one play, rehearsing another, and oh yeah, teaching classes and running the department. Life eases up after Feb. 5 when The Hostage closes. Fandango runs until March 4. Then life eases up a bit. I talked to my father about all this the other day and his response was, “Well, that’s your choice.”

I find these days, though, that I have something of a love-hate relationship with being this busy. I think the reason is that I have come to believe there are many things I would still like to accomplish, but not enough time to accomplish them. Earlier today I was reading this post from my favorite scooter blog, Scooter in the Sticks. The author discusses his new relationship between his love of driving his Vespa, and his recent diagnosis of psoriatic arthritis, a potentially disabling condition. He knows he will have to adapt his riding habits and adapt to his condition. And his age.

It seems to me that the older I have gotten, the more ideas I get of what I want to do. And even as I get these ideas, the realization of how little time is left to accomplish these things is sobering. Just to give you a taste, here is the bucket list as it stands right now:

• Re-invent my department. I would love to create a theatre department that focuses much more on the realities of today’s theatre scene and less on the Broadway dream and the LORT model. My ideal would be a department that is less concerned with producing a theatre season of large-scale productions and more concerned with producing smaller pieces more connected to communities, placing students, designers and performers, in smaller entrepreneurial teams to produce these shows. I’ve sort of run out my own personal desire to put on large-scale shows.
• Start a theatre company. Really. I would like to start a theatre company in Buffalo that was composed of recently graduated Fredonia students (or any local students) and use that theatre to help them continue their training beyond college, giving them a place to practice their craft. I would specialize in new work or, better yet, bringing to Buffalo the best from the NYC indie scene. Mix in some work from local playwrights focusing on the Buffalo community. And use the students to bring in people from the community to help them produce their own work.
• Write a book on acting technique that fuses Spolin improvisation techniques with Stanislavskian acting concepts.
• Get in an RV and travel the country writing reviews of shows from regional theatres all across the country.
• Collaborate with an international artist and bring some international work to Fredonia.
• See the great sites and art of Europe. Add a walking trip to Ireland.
• Take a shot at auditioning for work on the LORT circuit. Why not?
• Retire to Chicago and hook into the theatre scene there.
• Retire to a quiet life in the woods somewhere and forget about everything listed above. Just like Shakespeare.

Of course, many of the things on this list are contradictory. Choices will need to be made. And therein lies the rub. I wonder why, at this stage of my life, these ideas are coming at me now. Why wasn’t I thinking of them 25 years earlier? Was I just so focused on being a good teacher and doing my job well that I wasn’t expansive enough in my thinking? Did living in a rural area cut me off from possibilities and inspiration? Was I so busy raising kids, earning a living, and enjoying Buffalo that all that was satisfying enough? Or am I looking into a future where I will need at some point to fill up the free time? Am I incapable of leading a simple, un-busy life?

Ah well, no sense in worrying about all this now. I’ve got a few busy weeks to get through.  -twl

What was truly inspirational to me, and just as much fun to watch, if not more so than his playing, was the way he came out and interacted with the orchestra. No doubt he’s played this piece of music so many times he can do it in his sleep. So this affords him the opportunity to engage the orchestra in a way few people possibly could.

Yo-Yo Ma with the Fredonia College Orchestra

When he was not playing, he would turn to the violin section or the viola section or the cello section or the wind section and listen to them, but I mean actively listen to them. He would smile, nod in their direction, and even wink at one or two of the student players while they were playing. His demeanor was so infectiously joyous that it became far more than playing the concerto – it turned into having fun while playing the concerto!

When it came time for his solos he was, of course, spot on. He plays vigorously, with great energy and verve, and still manages to take those quiet, elongated notes and get the maximum emotion out of it. He ended almost every small solo moment with a large flourish of his bow, a great combination of showmanship and style. There was one moment he had where he finished a section, but he just seemed to stay with that last note he played far into the following section such that I thought I was continuing to hear that one note by itself even though the orchestra had moved on, because HE was hearing that one note in his heart, even though he had finished playing it ten seconds before. Amazong.

And even when playing with the orchestra, he continued to involve them in every step. He would play and lean into the string section as if physically wanting to join them, playing and looking at the kids right in the eye as they were playing. He was terrific at responding to the solo flutist. Even though he could not turn all the way around to actually see the young lady, you would swear he had eyes in the back of his head, his response was so in tune to her playing.

It was a remarkable demonstration of teaching while playing. He did not come out to play for people, he came out to play with people. So often we all get caught up in that notion that we are out there on the stage doing for other people, and lose sight of the fact that we are out there to play with other people, both on the stage and in the audience. That is a concept that is very hard to actually teach students, so it was so remarkable and so wonderful to see internationally renown Yo-Yo Ma do exactly that right here in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure those young people who got a chance to play with him will not long forget it. I know I won’t. Certainly, for me as a teacher and an actor, it was a joy to see. I only regret that it is so much more difficult to do this in theatre than it is in music. Difficult or not, it’s worth the efffort. -twl

Dunkirk NY

They seem to be quite fashionable lately. Almost everyone I come across these days, either actually or virtually, seems to have a pair. And they seem to wear them no matter what they’re watching or reading. Politics, television, college sports, the economy, theatre – just doesn’t seem to matter. Careers are going well, every show is “outstanding” or “brilliant,” facts are polarized out of view, and all is – well, rosy.

I am really jealous of those that have them. My glasses are bi-focals with only clear lenses. They don’t even have transition lenses. I have to wear OTG (over the glasses) sunglasses when I go out because I can’t really see the sense of paying about $300 to get a pair of sunglasses with my prescription in them. I’ve tried to find the rose-colored ones in the same place I get my OTGs, but every time I go to Wal-Mart, they seem to be sold out, they’re that popular.

I should let you know in advance I will probably need double-strength glasses if they come that way. And you don’t have to bother with making them OTGs for my regular glasses, because I get the feeling they will work that much better if I don’t have my daily glasses on. I need all the help I can get.

If they come in styles or shapes that can be used for particular types of experiences or events, let me know. For example, I can use the style that seems to let millions of Americans view the field of Republican candidates as if there is actually a viable candidate there somewhere. Or, because I tend to lean Democrat, maybe the ones that allowed people to see Obama as the second coming, or perhaps Andrew Cuomo as the friend of the working class would be a good idea.

I can also use the economic style that allows so many Americans to view the economy in a way that does not make them angry. For some reason, every time we have a recession that squeezes out another 14 million jobs from the economy and never replace them, people seem not to see what’s happening around them. I was super-jealous when those glasses-wearing geniuses were able to leverage their houses to buy so many beautiful things!! But the ones that must really be expensive are the ones worn on Wall St., where people seem to be unable to see that the money-making schemes they’ve hatched over the years continually threaten to bankrupt the entire country. They’ve got to be gold-plated as well as rose-colored, no?

The political ones I think may be out of my price range. I presume you have to have those purchased by a lobbyist of some sort.

And, oh, if they don’t cost an arm and a leg, I need some to watch television. I don’t watch a lot of TV, but it seems so many people around me do, and I guess I am missing some world-class stuff.  Two And a Half Men, Two Broke Girls, The Big Bang Theory, CSI, Hawaii Five-O, Glee, Survivor, Fear Factor, The Amazing Race,  and so, so many more. These shows right now are perfectly unwatchable without these glasses. This also goes for movies. They got those 3-D glasses there but they don’t help much, just make me twice as nauseous as I get watching them with my wire rims.  And yes, theatre. I would think these are pretty cheap, since there can’t be too much demand for them. But they would really help me so that I could see why everyone stands after a fairly average show.

And don’t let me forget sports! Wow! So many things must disappear with this style – money, drugs, money, boys getting raped, money, graft, out-of-control fans, out-of-control athletes, crime, and money. The “Penn State” model must be super-effective! I could really enjoy sports again, I think, if I had a pair of these. No doubt I would see men of ethics and character playing sports by the rules for the love of the game. Just think!

There’s probably many more pairs out there that I could use, but on a professor’s salary I doubt I’d be able to afford any more than these. Oh, perhaps one more – the “Retirement Model.” Perhaps those pair will let me look at my retirement accounts without remembering how those Wall St. bastards reduced my savings by 35% three years ago, and let me see that my accounts will be gaining 7% over the next 30 years. Wow, that might be enough incentive to get me to give up blogging!  -twl

Nobody really teaches you how to age; you just go through that experience, flailing and learning as you go. But it’s clear to me that one of the benefits of becoming ever more mature is that you begin to take just about everything in life less seriously. Things just matter less and less. And so everything is just another experience, and that takes off a lot of pressure.

Examples? When I first started out teaching, it was so important to me that my students become successful professional actors. Now, I am very happy if they have a good experience while in my classes and in the department. What they become after they leave here is no longer so important to me as long as they become solid citizens, good people, and have a lot of good memories of doing theatre here.

Acting? I am going to be starting my next show in a few weeks, the role of Monsewer in Behan’s The Hostage. I’m glad to have the experience of doing another role, because acting is fun. Reviews? Who cares? Trying to get the next job from this? Who cares? The fact that it’s in Buffalo NY? Great! Hanging out with theatre people, people I like? Great! If I get another job after this, it will probably be for the experience.

Directing my next show? It’s an original play by an old friend of mine who’s been writing plays since 1986 or so. I did one of his first plays back in 1991. We’re going to have some fun sharing the experience of working again together. Back in 1991, we really were trying to advance both our careers, looking to get the play viewed and marketed. This time around? Just getting the play produced will be enough for both of us. We’ll get together for a few days, drink some whiskey and Sobes, and work with the kids doing the show. Fun. An experience. That’s it.

The profession? Well, despite several attempts to help the profession by analyzing data, it’s clear I will never get my points across to anyone in a position to change thinking in the profession. I am much too small a voice, and I think the profession is far too diverse and fractured to be swayed anyway. And I also think that the profession has too many powerful people with vested interests ensconced in too many key positions who will work very hard to block all attempts to change the status quo. So I don’t mind speaking my mind, but I think I have to let go of any expectations that any of this work will change anything. At least in the immediate future. Years from now, who knows? Evolution is a funny thing. But writing about it is a great experience for me, and I like it. So there. Just no point in engaging in issues seriously, as no one really takes anything but themselves seriously in theatre anyway.

I don’t think I’m really going to stop anything that I am doing. It’s just a matter of seeing things with a different perspective. Less pressure. Less concern. It just doesn’t matter as much now as it used to. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Yup, going all John Lennon these days:

People say I’m crazy doing what I’m doing,
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin,
When I say that I’m o.k. they look at me kind of strange,
Surely you’re not happy now you no longer play the game,

People say I’m lazy dreaming my life away,
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me,
When I tell that I’m doing fine watching shadows on the wall,
Don’t you miss the big time boy you’re no longer on the ball?

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go,

People asking questions lost in confusion,
Well I tell them there’s no problem,
Only solutions,
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I’ve lost my mind,
I tell them there’s no hurry…
I’m just sitting here doing time,

I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.

-twl

Regan – We shall further think of it.

Goneril – We must do something, and i’ th’ heat. King Lear, I.1

As a kid growing up I was enamored of the TV series Dragnet (the 1967-70 remake, not the 1951-59 original, thank you very much). Quietly and without much fuss at all (and, to my recollection, never firing a weapon), Sgt. Joe Friday of the LAPD went about meticulously gathering the facts and, in the end, solving the crime. His catch phrase “Just the facts, ma’am” (which he never actually said in the series; it was “All we want are the facts, ma’am”) always rang out when someone on the show became emotional or tried to drag in some useless information not related to the questions Joe was asking. The facts always solved the case.

I have always based my decisions in life on trying to acquire the facts. Information has always been valuable to me. Having as much information and as many facts as possible has always made decision-making a lot easier. That is not to say that every decision I have made was easy. When the facts told me that, in all likelihood, I was not going to be a major American actor, there were clear emotional consequences. There still are. But the facts told me it was time to make a change, and so off I went to grad school.

Today’s society feels different to me, or perhaps I never fully understood how people can so willfully ignore facts. Scott Walters of Theatre Ideas just published a three-part series entitled “Occupy Lincoln Center,” outlining the facts concerning how grant money is distributed in the arts in this country. He based his series on an analysis of a report issued by the National Committee for Responsible Philanthropy (NCRP) written by Holly Sidford of Helicon Collaborative. The report is not theatre-specific, but looks at arts funding distribution as a whole. To give you a gist of the report, here is a salient quote from the Executive Summary:

 Much of this work is being done at the grassroots and community levels by artists and relatively small cultural organizations. Yet, the majority of arts funding supports large organizations with budgets greater than $5 million. Such organizations, which comprise less than 2 percent of the universe of arts and cultural nonprofits, receive more than half of the sector’s total revenue. These institutions focus primarily on Western European art forms, and their programs serve audiences that are predominantly white and upper income. Only 10 percent of grant dollars made with a primary or secondary purpose of supporting the arts explicitly benefit underserved communities, including lower-income populations, communities of color and other disadvantaged groups. And less than 4 percent focus on advancing social justice goals. These facts suggest that most arts philanthropy is not engaged in addressing inequities that trouble our communities, and is not meeting the needs of our most marginalized populations.

In other words, there is an elite group of artistic institutions, catering to white, upper-income patrons, getting the bulk of the money. Read Scott’s analysis for more information. It is interesting to note that the cut-off for the definition of “large organization” is $5 million. What would the numbers show, I wonder, if the cut-off figure had been half that?

But because we currently exist in a society where facts are routinely ignored, none of this information will have much of an impact on anyone. In every area of our society, from education to the arts to politics, facts are routinely dismissed, ignored, or misused. It seems as if no one can even determine what the facts actually are anymore, since the way we deal with facts these days is to spin them.

Nor does it seem apparent that any of these facts will cause people to coalesce over the injustices they represent. In the manic world of the blogosphere and twittosphere, these facts will be hotly debated, tweeted and re-tweeted, and then give way to the next hot topic that the internet manages to bring to us (we are currently on to the role of the theatre critic). Despite the fact that “We are the 99%” had gotten a lot of media play, 6 out of 10 people are indifferent to the OWS movement, and little action of any sort beyond occupation is taking place. Facts, it appears, do not lead to action. Every fact you can find about income disparity and the growing realization that we are all getting an economic screwing from Corporate America seems incapable of moving the American people to action.

Scott and I, probably because we are primarily academics, have both tried to base our commentaries on the state of American theatre from the point of view of data. I have tried to formulate my critiques of the university system of training actors based on data from the NEA. I offered a list of theatre facts last year for people’s consideration. I did two different analyses on the data compiled by the Innovative Theatre Foundation. I even surveyed my own graduates back in 2007. Despite all these efforts, and all these facts, there seems to be very little action taking place.

But more than that. Both Scott and I – Scott more than myself – have had instances where our facts were either summarily ignored or vehemently denied. Perhaps even more insidious, in some instances the facts are acknowledged, but when it comes to one’s own individual circumstances, do not apply (“I am the exception. I will overcome the facts.”). And yes, there are exceptions to almost every non-scientific, physical fact, but assuming that the facts won’t apply to you is not supported by the facts; mostly that’s a matter of luck and the odds (both of which are facts).

There seems to be little doubt that one of the unintended consequences of trying to create a multicultural, diverse society has been the fracturing of that same society into ever smaller silos.  Margo Davis could speak of a movement of regional theatres in her time, and get a hearing, because there was almost universal agreement on the worthiness of the idea. Today, you can’t get universal agreement on anything. Even facts will not produce universal agreement, because in today’s contentious atmosphere, the idea is not to understand facts, the idea is to refute or spin them. Our current congressional situation is a perfect reflection of how this plays out in the real world.

I truly despair of anything happening to change the climate of theatre in this country anytime soon. Both entropy and evolution will have more of a say over time than any collection of facts I can accumulate. The current theatrical climate will crack not because of any sage planning or collective action on the part of theatre practitioners, but because larger economic forces will force the changes. Young artists currently “in training” in higher education today are not pushing the status quo; they are fighting for entry. It seems to me that, like Regan, collectively we shall think – and blog, and tweet – further on this. Few of us will take Goneril’s advice. -twl

PS – Diane Ragsdale has also chimed in on this exact subject. Give it a read.

"Fisherman and The Siren" - Knut Ekwall

Dunkirk NY – Over the past three days I have been in Houston, TX on something of a fund-raising event for the university. The “big idea” being discussed involves the participation of the Alley Theatre in Houston, and so this past Wednesday I got a tour of the facility and saw a production of Horton Foote’s Dividing The Estate. It was all very wonderful. And therein lies the rub.

The actual show itself is sort of besides the point. It was just being in the atmosphere of a working theatre that got to me. The Alley is probably an exception to the state of LORT theatre in the US at this point. It is financially sound, and embarking on an $80 million renovation of its facility. It is one of only three LORT theatres in the US that employs a resident ensemble of actors and designers. Some of the Alley’s resident actors have been there for 20+ years. They have an in-house scene shop, costume shop, props shop, etc. They have a 60+ year history. They produce 11 shows in 2 spaces. They do new work – two this season. They are, in many ways, exactly what the LORT theatre movement intended a regional theatre to be.

Of course, the demographic picture of the audience is the same as it is everywhere: upper middle class educated whites. That in and of itself is part of the rub. So is the $80 million campaign for a new space – can anyone else think of better uses for $80 million than a new theatre space for UMCEW theatregoers? But the real nub of the rub was its seductive attractiveness. At heart, the Alley represents and embodies everything I always dreamed theatre could be when I was a young, aspiring theatre artist.

If I were to be brutally honest with myself, I would have to admit that in touring the Alley I became enchanted. I cannot resist the seductive power of a complete evening in the theatre. The space was terrific; nice modified thrust stage with about 500 seats. The set, while flat, just screamed of attention to detail. The lighting was subtle and elegant. Costumes were all accurate and yet spoke specifically to each character. The acting was a tad uneven but not one actor was horrifically bad, and the general flow of the play was engaging. It could easily have been a night on Broadway in 1958.

It is during experiences like these that I tend to think that most people more often than not have to make do with what life gives them. You never made enough money to buy that Cadillac you always dreamed of and maybe even sat in, so you make do with a Chrysler 300. The head cheerleader won’t give you the time of day, so you date the head of the prom committee. You’re never going to quite make it to Broadway or even a LORT theatre, so you head to academia, about the next best thing, since it follows that same model.

The Alley Theatre sings a siren’s song to me. The beauty is undeniable; the attraction strong. But mythology tells us that following a siren’s song leads to bad things, even death. The Cadillac will bankrupt you; the cheerleader becomes an obnoxious self-centered harpie; Broadway becomes about nothing but dollars and cents, and plays only to the elite.

There are many good, sound, fundamental reasons why the LORT theatre model should be re-thought and re-imagined. But perhaps when you look at how the Alley Theatre is run and has developed over all the years, you are made aware of the fact that this is how a theatre can and should be run, no matter what the scale of the theatre’s production capabilities. Creating an ensemble of artists – check. Fiscally sound – check. Paying people and talking about them like they were human beings deserving of health care, homes and schools for their families – check. A decent space to produce work – check. A mix of classics with opportunity for new work – check. Community involvement – check. You can produce this kind of entity almost anywhere, it seems to me, and come pretty close to meeting these ideals. I can’t think of anyone in the community arts movement who wouldn’t want these items for its own organization. Perhaps the trick to all this is finding a way to synergize the beauty of the siren’s appeal with the realities of what you have at hand.

I would not wish the Alley to go away, nor would I wish the values and traditions it upholds to disappear. Rather, I would love to be able to scale down all that it embodies into a form that would make theatre accessible and enjoyable – and important – to everyone in our culture and society. Interestingly enough, the siren’s song generally appeals to the spirit, and not the flesh. It is the spirit of the Alley that ultimately appeals to me, and I do believe that that spirit can be created anywhere a theatre exists. -twl

There are a few things about my circumstance that have been pulling me up short lately. I attended a meeting this past Friday, and in attendance were myself, the dean, the associate dean, the Associate Vice President for Enrollment Management, the Director of Admissions, the Director of the School of Music and his Associate Director. Everyone except the Associate Director was in a tie and jacket (he wore a good sweater and slacks). I arrived in cargo pants that are a little too short for me, sneakers, and a slightly oversized Fredonia sweatshirt. All the adults at the table looked like adults – except me. After a 30-year teaching career in higher education I still can’t dress like an adult.

Last Friday night I went out for a bite to eat before rehearsal. I went to a new place in town, run by a former theatre student, whose on-campus coffee and snack business was run off campus and so moved off campus to open a new bistro. There were two tables occupied by other faculty members having dinner, drinking wine, and no doubt carrying on a brilliant conversation. I nodded, said hi, took my seat alone in the corner, buried myself in a book on my iTouch, and ate. While I work with all these people, I seldom if ever socialize with them. Not because I don’t want to, but because I seldom have time. Who wants to have a dinner date with someone who has to be at rehearsal by 7?

And every year, I find that I grow older, abut the students of course remain the same age. The gap gets wider every year. My life has never been about working with adults except in peripheral ways. It’s been about being with and among 18-22-year-olds, teaching them some acting, directing them in plays, and once in a while listening to their anxieties. That’s my main function. At least 80% of my time every day is about interacting with students. Sometimes I think this causes me to question whether or not I’m still capable of socializing with adults. Adults make me nervous.

I start a show in a month in Buffalo. No doubt when I get to the first rehearsal I will find myself one of the oldest cast members. This past summer I worked with a group of former students and their friends put on an original play during the Infringement Festival. I am hoping that there are a few people in this upcoming show somewhere near my age. It would be a relief.

All this gives me the feeling of being stuck in the same time and place for a long time now. And there is no denying it – I have been in one place for a long time. And there is no other point to this post than to express that. And the sense of wilting that it brings. The metaphor that springs to mind is that of a food product right around its expiration date. You can still sell it, and even right after the date is might be good, but you’d better finish it soon. Or pump in the preservatives for longer shelf life.

The sun has set now since I started this post. A few more leaves have fallen. And it’s chillier outside. Time to move inside, shut the windows, draw the curtains, and prepare for one of the few remaining World Series games left. -twl