EARNING A NAME (part 2a)

in re:  PERSPECTIVE

 

Many moons ago, back in Hot Springs, Arkansas, I played John Proctor in a production of The Crucible for a fledgling theatre company.  I met my future wife in that production (she was a deliciously tempting Abagail Williams) and I got my first real taste of the do-or-die attitude one MUST have when staging a show.  We lost a couple of cast-members on the eve of the production, and were forced to double up at the last minute.  You see, the mother of two of our cast-members (who was also in our production) could no longer deal with the pressures of scheduled rehearsal times.  She needed to pull herself and her daughters out of rehearsals in the week leading up to opening for ... I don't recall.  But I'll never forget her yelling at our director:

"It's amateur theatre!"

This was her entire justification for skipping rehearsals and ultimately removing herself and her daughters from our production.

Let's take a look at that word, "amateur" (from Merriam-Webster):

am·a·teur noun  1: devotee, admirer;  2: one who engages in a pursuit, study, science, or sport as a pastime rather than as a profession; 3: one lacking in experience and competence in an art or science

Harsh, especially number three.  The definition is ameliorated a bit by the derivation:

French, from Latin amator lover, from amare to love

That's a little better.  Indeed, we had quite a bit of love for the undertaking, which is why some cast members doubled up on roles the night before, and why the director pulled a bonnet down over his head and played Betty Parris himself for the run of the show.  That's love.
  

When Lorne Michaels put together the original cast and writers for Saturday Night Live, he went looking for "enlightened amateurs."  Comedy was too important to leave to professionals; he wanted scrappy non-conformists who wouldn't be cowed by an attitude of "That's The Way We Always Do It."  There is an incredible freedom at hand when you do something for love, rather than career advancement.  And in a spooky sort of way best appreciated by the likes of Wayne Dyer, focusing on the "love" actually delivers up the career advancement.  Perhaps the path isn't a straight line, but straight lines are boring and ungodly (hat tip to Friedensreich Hundertwasser).
  

There is one other advantage to being an amateur:  Not knowing all the answers.  I almost feel that should be in scare quotes, because the danger is the assumption of being right rather than actually being right. 

I guess I come off as a pretty confident guy.  I write with seeming authority and no amount of qualifiers seem to convey that most of the time, I'm just making my best guess.  Sure, my guesses are based on research, much thought, and conversations with others who have unique viewpoints.  I play the Devil's advocate to myself and I'm paranoid over making a priori conclusions and feeding my confirmation bias.  But I'm still guessing.
  

There's a great quote from Robert A. Heinlein on this subject:

"The hardest part about gaining any new idea is sweeping out the false idea occupying that niche. As long as that niche is occupied, evidence and proof and logical demonstration get nowhere. But once the niche is emptied of the wrong idea that has been filling it — once you can honestly say, 'I don't know', then it becomes possible to get at the truth."

-- Robert A. Heinlein, The Cat Who Walks Through Walls

I think the default position for amateurs is "I don't know."  Further, "I don't know, and I want to find out."

To be fair, let's look at the other side of the verbal coin, the word "professional" (also from Merriam-Websters):

pro·fes·sion·al adj 1a : of, relating to, or characteristic of a profession b : engaged in one of the learned professions c (1) : characterized by or conforming to the technical or ethical standards of a profession (2) : exhibiting a courteous, conscientious, and generally businesslike manner in the workplace; 2a : participating for gain or livelihood in an activity or field of endeavor often engaged in by amateurs b : having a particular profession as a permanent career c : engaged in by persons receiving financial return ; 3: following a line of conduct as though it were a profession

In the arts I believe that one should express an amateur spirit and a professional attitude.  Keep your heart and mind open, but keep your feet firmly on the ground.  Put succinctly:
  

soyez realistes - demandez l'impossible

"Be realstic, demand the impossible."  Be the enlightened amateur.

The Position, produced by PianoFight at Asylum Lab

review by Andrew Moore

I went into PianoFight LA's production of The Position with the highest hopes.  Those hopes were deflated, but what went wrong may be fixed.

Six candidates vie for a job in a dystopian, jobless future.  With equal parts Big Brother and The Prisoner, Playwright William Blivins has composed an intriguing, cat and mouse game where it's never really clear who's the cat and who's the mouse.  The Candidates are given Greek letters in place of their names, and are given over to their own devices in a lawless environment where practically anything goes -- and everything is being recorded.

First, the good:

The set design (uncredited) is simple and effective.  Black walls with Jackson Pollack-esque spatter paintings surround a neutral space with spare furniture.  Long banners carrying Orwellian slogans hang from the high ceiling of Asylum Lab, a pleasant use of vertical space and a constant reminder of the reality the characters live in.  The lighting (Kristen Hammack) is effective; realistically framing a cold and clinical room yet shifting into a more expressionistic mode as necessary.  Takashi Morimoto attires the cast with appropriate utility.

Sofie Calderon is a delight, instantly believable as the outgoing, amiable Zeta.  Jeremy Mascia brings a very realistic charm to Delta, walking the line between reality TV show parody and a hopeless Tomorrowland.  Akemi Okamura brings heart and hurt to a very lonely yet ambitious Gamma.  Perhaps the most difficult role in the piece belongs to Eric Delgado, as the inhuman Baylian, a subservient servant eager and willing to please.  What could have become a Twilight Zone-style cardboard cutout is given uncomfortable dimension by Delgado.  If his level of commitment had set the bar for the rest of the production, I would not have to progress to ...

The not so good:

The play never really lives up to its potential.

I don't believe these people want the position.  We are told, through vignettes and dialogue at the top of the show and through the promotional material that this play is set in a dystopian future.  "The Great Down Turn" has plunged us into mass unemployment and destitution.  Only The Concern can possibly save us, and they are only offering one job that hundreds of thousands of people applied for.  Where's the hunger?  The ambition?  The desperation?  The recruits don't behave like a group of people who have to scavenge for sustenance.  Entering a room with food on a nearby table, they hang back, seemingly not interested in something that should be dear to them.  Without a sense of urgency, there is no sense of danger and no sense of risk.

The problems with the play are embodied in a single prop:  The knife that one character pulls on another early in the show is the same generic breakaway knife that joke shops have sold since who knows when.  It is instantly identifiable as a fake; a dull-edged, plastic toy that couldn't possibly hurt anyone.  We in the dark are willing to suspend our disbelief and go on this journey, but the folks taking us for the ride need to meet us halfway.

(The one exception to this curious lack of specificity may be found in Mascia's Delta, who stuffs rolls and fruit in his pockets at a couple of points in the play.  This is a fantastic specific; the show needs more moments like this.)

It also doesn't help that every ten minutes or so, someone in the audience popped open a can of beer or soda.  It doesn't help that late arrivals weren't held in the lobby until the first black out.  When you are staging a thriller, you must maintain a thread of tension between the action onstage and the watchers in the dark.  Lose your audience, and you are sunk.  Any extraneous distraction must be eliminated -- for god's sake, tell your audience to open their cans before the show starts!

The net result of all this is a laughable climax, lacking the dramatic punch it should have.  I can see the effect they were going for and I am truly sad they didn't hit it.  I don't doubt the sincerity and passion of the folks involved in PianoFight LA.  I believe they have great potential to make their mark on Los Angeles theatre landscape, but their ambition needs to be tendered with specificity.  If they focus on those details, making every choice count, there's no limit to what they will be able to do.

The Position is performed Thursdays through Saturdays at 8:00 pm, through October 9th.

Asylum Lab is located at 1078 Lillian Way in Hollywood, California.  Street parking is available on the side streets behind the theatre.

Tickets are $20 at the door or online at www.applyfortheposition.com

EARNING A NAME (part two)

[NOTE: The following is part-two of a write-up I presented to the other administrators of Theatre Unleashed back in July. Part one may be found here.  I have edited it to make it a more general observation on the Under-99 World in Los Angeles, and to add in a few things I've since discovered. This is my "The Things We Think and Do Not Say," and it had about the same effect for me that it had for Jerry Maguire. Enjoy.]

CORE AND CHAOS

I am going to clearly define two categories of shows, and what it means to be CORE or CHAOS.

“Core” productions are productions that have a more-or-less traditional run in a theatrical performance venue. Call them “Fringe Productions,” “Main Stage,” “Second Stage,” “Late Night,” or whatever, these are shows that could only exist in a theatrical environment. Core production is typically the main business of Under-99s.

We do a great disservice to ourselves by pretending that a Core production is anything other than a Core production. “It’s a ‘Fringe’ show – we don’t have to worry about a budget” is stupid, backwards thinking. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it is. The audience doesn’t know the difference between an evening of scrappy one-acts and a full-blown production of Shakespeare when they are both performed in the same house. When you sacrifice production values because “it’s not a Main Stage production,” you only succeed in shooting yourself in the foot with the audience (and reviewers, for that matter.)

“Chaos” productions are special projects with irregular runs or irregular performance venues. Sketch comedy, performance art shows, and specialty would fit in this category. These are shows that could conceivably exist outside of a traditional theatrical environment.

In truth, Chaos productions should be performed outside of traditional theatrical environments, if only to avoid the rental fee. You can stage a 24-Hour Play Festival in a bar that has a stage for live music. In such an environment the bar till effectively offsets the cost of the stage.

By defining our activities in this way, a theatre company may more intelligently elect a cap on what we do. For instance, each season we do no more than three Core Productions and two Chaos productions. It’s too easy to lard a season with a bunch of “Fringe” or “Late Night” shows – shows that require the same amount of manpower and resources as a so-called “Main Stage” production.

Under the model I envision, fundraising activities are focused on specific productions; encapsulated with individual shows. For example, the lead up to a Core production that requires a production budget of $5,000 will include fundraising plans to raise that money. The company members involved in that Core production are compelled, as a condition of their continued membership in the company, to assist in fundraising activities.

(It is important to draw a distinction here: Under the 99-Seat Plan, you cannot require a 4-A to participate in fundraising activities. However, participation in fundraising activities can and should be a condition of membership in a company.)

Likewise, any budget money needed for a Chaos production is raised by the members involved in that Chaos Production. (Please note that Chaos productions are the type of shows that require little in the way of production budget.)

A NEW PRODUCING MODEL

"You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete."

-- Buckminster Fuller

By now we should all have at least passing familiarity with Kickstarter. Theatre artists all over the country are taking advantage of it, and it is something about which I have written at some length on this blog.

Theatre is relevant only so long as it serves the audience. Integrating a service such as Kickstarter – or at least the philosophy that informs such a venture – into an end-user-based funding model places the ensemble before that audience at the very beginning of the process. "Fans 'are not buying music,” says Kickstarter co-founder Yancey Strickler, “they’re buying a personalized experience.”ⁱ

The term "Suspension of Disbelief" never sat right with me. It feels like a passive action, a disconnection of some sort. "Audience investment," on the other hand, expresses an active role for the audience; a connection between audience and performer that allows for tension (e.g., dramatic tension, comedic tension, emotional tension, etc.) to be applied.

To quote marketing guru Seth Godin, "the act of paying fundamentally changes the dynamics of the relationship." One of the most frustrating things for me in the past has been the attempt to involve the audience in the process of making theatre. "Read the blogs! Watch the videos! Tell us what YOU think!" Involving the audience in direct funding of the project would actually invest them in the project, in fact and in spirit.

Further, I believe it would revitalize any ensemble to be made accountable to the People in the Dark well in advance of "Ladies and gentlemen, the house is now open." Can you imagine determining a season with Kickstarter? If the selections not funded by the deadline, they don't get produced. We would have to engage the audience before they so much as pick up a postcard for the production at their local coffee shop.

Let's say a theatre company has a raft of shows they’d like to do in 2011. The Artistic Directors post six productions online, with “seed” budgets, enough to get pre-production off the ground. Whatever gets funded, that's the season. There is an immediate feedback loop from the community-at-large as to what they want to see on stage.

And that's just one side of the coin. The other side: Competing with other artists. Sure, it's a gentle, friendly competition wherein everyone can get funded. I encourage you to go to Kickstarter and browse through the projects up for funding. Not just the theatre projects; all of them. To have your project listed in that incredible marketplace demands you bring your best.

The funders must be engaged from the very beginning, and that means bringing your “A” game. When placing projects on their site, the Kickstarter people look for three things:

• Creative Ideas
• Ambitious Endeavors
• Specific Goals

Successful projects post blog entries, videos, podcasts – “project updates” that keep the backers who have contributed and potential backers informed on the progress of the project.ⁱⁱ It can’t just be, “We’re putting on a show.” It has to be one HELLUVA show. No laurel-resting is allowed.

Funders become “brand evangelists” who repost the link to our Kickstarter project through their social networks, thus expanding our potential funding base well beyond who we may reach through traditional fundraising. We may just find new fans, new supporters.ⁱⁱⁱ

THE CHARRETTE

A French word that evolved from the idea of architect students finishing their work on the cart ride to school:

The word charrette may refer to any collaborative session in which a group of designers drafts a solution to a design problem. While the structure of a charrette varies, depending on the design problem and the individuals in the group, charrettes often take place in multiple sessions in which the group divides into sub-groups. Each sub-group then presents its work to the full group as material for future dialogue. Such charrettes serve as a way of quickly generating a design solution while integrating the aptitudes and interests of a diverse group of people. Compare this term with workshop.^iv

The folks at Kickstarter are “looking for projects that offer rewards rather than begging for help. Projects with a history of effort or a path to completion. Projects that fit our focus on creativity.”^v Projects presented on Kickstarter have to hit the ground running. This approach to producing will require advance planning: Production and marketing meetings way earlier than we usually schedule.

Back when we first started Theatre Unleashed, I submitted a few documents for consideration regarding the Collaborative Process, including a flowchart of the process adapted from The Scenographic Imagination by Darwin Reid Payne. I have appended that flowchart to this document, as it is germaine to the requirements of this producing model. The steps “Preliminary Discussions: Exchange of ideas, Appropriateness and Practicality,” and “More Detailed Discussions Leading to a Single, Unified Approach” are the activities that will take place during our Charrette. The products of our Charrette—in addition to allowing us to realistically budget for what is needed, coordinate our promotional efforts and produce the best possible show—those products will be the building blocks of our initial fundraising pitch (whether facilitated by Kickstarter or not.)

[I'm not going to post the derivative work referenced above. Instead, here is the original on which the derivative is based, to give you an idea.

["Preliminary Discussions: Exchange of ideas, Appropriateness and Practicality," is roughly equivalent to "Scenographer and Director Confer: They Explore Possibilities ..." on the chart below, and "More Detailed Discussions Leading to a Single, Unified Approach" is roughly equivalent to "Scenographer and Director Confer Again ..."]

BECOMING PROFESSIONAL

It sounds like a lot of work. In reality, it’s not much more than what Under-99 companies already do, just more focused and driven by end-results. What I propose will move a struggling or fledgling Under-99 company to a new level of professionalism. Attendant to this approach is something Under-99 types (in my experience) feel uncomfortable discussing: The Administrative Staff deserves remuneration.

They won’t be making Pasadena Playhouse money. Company operating expenses—web hosting, phone, insurance, etc.—will come out of box office receipts. (Recall, each show is funded directly by fundraising activities and contributions from individuals.) After the operating expenses are deducted from the box, the remainder will be paid out to the administrators according to a point system. Work has value, and ought to be compensated, even if by a meager amount that doesn’t quite measure up to what 4A’s get paid. However small an amount, it elevates what Under-99s do from “volunteer” and “amateur” to “professional.”

In addition, and recognizing that all the people who bring a production to the public have value and deserve remuneration for their work, I propose an “All or Nothing” policy. If a show is produced under the Under-99 Seat Plan and the 4A’s are guaranteed a per performance stipend, it is only right to extend that same dollar amount to the other principle people involved in the production: non-union actors, stage managers, designers, directors and playwrights. The payroll for each production will be factored into the budget during the Charrette.

TO BE CONCLUDED ...

-----------------------------

ⁱ Randall Stross, “You, Too, Can Bankroll a Rock Band,” The New York Times, 4/2/10, Web.
ⁱⁱ Kickstarter FAQ, www.kickstarter.com/help/faq, 2010, Web
ⁱⁱⁱ Christine Lagorio, “How to Use Kickstarter to Launch a Business,” Inc., 5/19/20, Web.
^iv “Charrette,” Wikipedia, accessed 7/09/10, Web.
^v Yancey Strickler, “Where Projects Come From,” The Kickstarter Blog, 6/1/10, Web.

EARNING A NAME (part one)

 [NOTE: The following is part-one of a write-up I presented to the other administrators of Theatre Unleashed back in July.  I have edited it to make it a more general observation on the Under-99 World in Los Angeles, and to add in a few things I've since discovered.  This is my "The Things We Think and Do Not Say," and it had about the same effect for me that it had for Jerry Maguire.  Enjoy.]

WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS

Focus. Discipline. An enthused membership base that does not have to be cajoled into doing things. Front of House assignments that never go blank. High production values. Critical acclaim. Packed houses. Industry attention.

Professional and personal fulfillment.

Five years from now, will we still be scraping? Producing hand-to-mouth, depending upon the personal outlay of funds for production budgets? It is not difficult to imagine such a future. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans,” or so a poet once wrote. It’s not enough to dream big; efforts must be coordinated towards a desirable goal. That is the purpose of strategic planning, and it is what I have set out to do in this document.

It is necessary to step outside the day-to-day, and take a longer view on what we are doing and how we are doing it. To begin, let’s step outside of Los Angeles. 

THE MAP AND THE TERRITORY

I heard an economist recently who pointed out that a wrong map is worse than no map at all. For instance, if you're lost in New York, depending on a map of Chicago to right yourself is futile, perhaps even destructive. Looking at the information provided by the New York Innovative Theatre Awards and the Broadway League, I can only half agree. If we kept our noses pressed into the statistics out of New York, oblivious to the scene in Los Angeles, that would be cause for alarm.

But Chicago and New York both have grid systems. If we combine our observation on the ground with reference to a similar situation elsewhere--actually look for the similarities and differences--We may in fact better orient ourselves to where we are.

Broadway is theatrical tourism. I had always heard this, but it took actually going to New York for the idea to sink in. Hungry for some concrete facts and figures to either confirm or falsify the observation, a Google search led me to the Broadway League and their research report, "The Demographics of the Broadway Audience 2008-2009."

"In the 2008—2009 season, approximately 63% of all Broadway tickets were purchased by tourists."ⁱ That's nearly 8 million of the 12 million tickets sold. By way of comparison, Disneyland had total park attendance of about 15 million in 2008ⁱⁱ. Theatrical tourism: Check.

New York and Los Angeles are very different towns. What drives tourism to Los Angeles is very different from what drives tourism to New York. We don’t have a Times Square, much to the chagrin of the developers behind Hollywood & Highland, LA Live, and other attempts to replicate the magic found at Broadway and Seventh Avenue. Certainly, using Broadway as a similar map would be foolish.
There is, however, a subdivision of New York City theatre from which we may draw inspiration and know-how: Off-Off-Broadway. Off-Off-Broadway shows are produced under the AEA’s “Basic Showcase Code.” This code is comparable to the Los Angeles specific “99-Seat Plan” in one significant way: It applies to houses of 99 seats and less.

Wondering if someone had conducted a demographic survey of the OOB world, a Google search brought me to the New York Innovative Theatre Awards’ Off-Off Broadway Survey Program. Some interesting facts from their reports:

• 84% of companies rent various locations, rather than find residence in one location (11%) or own their own place (5%).
• A plurality of companies (22%) have production budgets of under $5,000.
• A plurality of the companies (33%) produce 2 plays a year. The next highest percentage (29%) produces 3 to 5 plays a year.
• OOB plays run an average of 14 performances.
• 56% of the shows produced are new works.ⁱⁱⁱ

This is all very revelatory for me, and confirms both first-hand observation and sinking suspicions.

Under-99 theatre in Los Angeles is capable of fantastic success, if we continue to produce good shows that audiences love. But it seems we often occupy ourselves reinventing the wheel. I wonder how many other producers of Under-99 theatre in LA are in the same boat? It would be wise to avail ourselves of the hard-earned experience others have gained, even in a city as geographically and socially distant as New York. 

MOVING UP THE RUNGS

One interesting aspect of New York theatre is the way in which Off-Off-Broadway can feed Off-Broadway, and Off-Broadway in turn feeds Broadway. For instance, A.R. Gurney, playwright of Love Letters, frequently premieres his plays with the Off-Off-Broadway company, Flea Theatre.^iv Shows such as Avenue Q and Spring Awakening made the jump from Off-Broadway to Broadway.^v

In his book Theatre, David Mamet writes:

The currency of any new play depends on its reception in New York. If it is not staged in New York, it will not be published or awaken the interest of the stock and amateur theatres from which a playwright might derive continued income. If it is not well received in New York, it will fare similarly.^vi

Steven Leigh Morris offers the following observation in a recent article regarding the importance of the audience:

American behemoths of commercial theater, from Neil Simon to Christopher Durang, have openly expressed the influence that the decidedly noncommercial but fiercely respected Samuel Beckett had on their work, and the works of generations that followed. If our experimental wing is clipped, and we grow to depend only on what is popular in order to define what is relevant, we are actually consigning the art form to inevitable, eventual irrelevance. (Read: abject boredom.) Because it's risk that moves the art form forward; popular theater, and the economic imperatives that create it, have by definition an aversion to such risk.^vii

I believe in the importance of the audience, but I don't believe that working for The People in the Dark is necessarily the same as chasing popularity at the expense of relevance. Au contraire, it would be a sad world indeed if Nunsense was the only show going. There is a need for innovators and early adopters in ANY industry. Those are the entrepreneurs, the experimenters who seek out unexplored or under-explored territory. More and more it becomes apparent to me that the Under-99 world MUST serve this purpose in Los Angeles, just as the Off-Off-Broadway world serves the same purpose in New York.

Theatre professionals in Los Angeles need to cultivate an upwardly-mobile meritocracy in Los Angeles Theatre. I believe we (the larger “we” of theatre professionals in Los Angeles) know this, and I believe we are working on this. I know playwrights who have taken their successful Under-99 to Off-Off-Broadway and Off-Broadway. Layon Gray’s Black Angels Over Tuskegee has recently re-opened Off-Broadway after a successful run in New York earlier this year.^viii

Locally, the Ford has partnership productions, giving a leg-up to Under-99 companies who do good work.^ix Circle X is one such company, who produced Lascivious Something at [Inside] the Ford earlier this year.^x Louis and Keely Live at the Sahara made the jump from the stage at Sacred Fools to the Geffen in 2009.^xi It can and does happen, and nourishing this meritocracy is as much our responsibility as it is the larger houses. If we do good work, they will take note.

Insofar as advancement based on merit is possible, it is incumbent upon us as a company to pursue it. Otherwise, we are largely wasting our time and efforts. Our productions should have a greater end goal in mind: Participation in Fringe festivals locally and outside of Los Angeles, publication (in the case of new works,) advancement of a play to one of the LORT houses locally or to New York, etc.

Pushing ourselves to reach beyond a four-week run will invigorate our membership and give much needed focus to our overall mission as a company. The status quo has us running in place. What I propose will give us a goal to run towards.

TO BE CONTINUED ...

-----------------------------

ⁱThe Broadway League, The Demographics of the Broadway Audience 2008-2009, September 2009, Web.
ⁱⁱThemed Entertainment Association/Economics Research Associates, 2008 Attraction Attendance Report, April 2009, Web.
ⁱⁱⁱNew York Innovative Theatre Foundation, Statistical Analysis of Off-Off-Broadway Budgets, April 2008, Web.
^ivErnio Hernandez, “Cast Announced for World Premiere of Gurney's A Light Lunch at Flea Theater,” Playbill, 11/12/08, Web.
^v “What’s Off-Broadway?” OffBroadway.com, 2009, Web.
^vi David Mamet, Theatre, 2010, pg. 15.
^viiSteven Leigh Morris, “What About the Audience?” LA Weekly, 5/27/10, Web.
^viiiAndrew Gans, “Off-Broadway's Black Angels Over Tuskegee Re-Opens at Actors Temple Theater June 5,” Playbill, 6/5/10, Web.
^ixKaren Wada, “[Inside] the Ford helps troupes without homes,” Los Angeles Times, 1/24/10, Web.
^xCharlotte Stoudt, “’ Lascivious Something' at the Ford,” 4/1/210, Los Angeles Times, Web.
^xi Lawrence Vittes, “Louis & Keely Live at the Sahara -- Theater Review,” The Hollywood Reporter, 3/20/09, Web.

SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT

[What follows is an email I sent out to the leadership team at that theatre company I'm affiliated with.  I edited it slightly so it would make more sense to more people.  There is a conversation that is NOT happening that NEEDS to happen.]

Mulling it all over, giving it some deep thought, I recalled the following quote from my write-up of two months ago*.  From Tim Errickson, Artistic Director of The Boomerang Theatre in New York:

Many people who start companies in NYC either come directly from school, or also working other non-profit orgs at first to cut their teeth (mine was working for Lincoln Center Theater), so often people see how professional orgs are run and try to mirror those models.

I believe to some degree we are mirroring theatre companies we used to belong to in the structure of our company because that's what we know.  There was a lot of talk about how other Artistic Directors at those companies managed to get people to work calls, company meetings, etc.  But we need to recall the environments we left and why we left.  There is no need to emulate a model that we were ultimately repulsed by.  Indeed, why not dissolve this company and return to those other companies?  We know why.

I don't know if these links ever get followed when I include them, so I included a brief summary.  Watch this:

"Dan Pink on the surprising science of motivation"

http://www.ted.com/talks/dan_pink_on_motivation.html

Length: 18:40
Description:  "Career analyst Dan Pink examines the puzzle of motivation, starting with a fact that social scientists know but most managers don't: Traditional rewards aren't always as effective as we think. Listen for illuminating stories -- and maybe, a way forward."
Takeaway:  The solution is not to do more of the wrong things, i.e. the "carrot and the stick."  We need to focus on intrinsic motivation:  Autonomy, mastery and purpose. 

Definitions
Autonomy:  The urge to direct our own lives
Mastery:  The desire to get better and better at something that matters
Purpose:  The yearning to do what we do in the service of something larger than ourselves.

We were intrinsically motivated to start this company.  Autonomy was the big draw--no longer looking to an artistic director who had moved to New York for permission on the tiniest details.  A new company allowed us the chance to prove we could run a better company, which is mastery.  Finally, we were driven to create something larger than ourselves.  We sweated over a mission statement that is often maligned, but which contains a most potent charge:

"[T]o work to together as one, passionately and professionally, in creating truly remarkable theatre."

We talked a lot about recommitting last night, but we failed to agree on what we are recommitting to.  Rededicating to front of house and workcalls?  We will have the same success we've enjoyed so far this year.  Ultimately, the enthusiasm will die off and we'll be right back where we started.  A drudgery.

I like words.  I try to use the exact right word for the situation, and "drudgery" is it.  From Merriam-Webster:

drudg·ery noun: dull, irksome, and fatiguing work : uninspiring or menial labor

Look, we're all volunteers.  If we need to have our asses kicked to care about the company, ultimately no amount of ass-kicking is going to do any good.  It's only going to build up more and more resentment -- the very kind of resentment that propelled us away from those companies we left.

I believe we need to retreat, regroup and re-approach.  I believe we need to take a good, hard look at why we are making theatre, and what contribution we believe we can make to the art.  We need to get back to the intrinsic reasons people make theatre in the first place, and move forward from there.

From The Empty Space, by Peter Brook:

There is always a new season in hand and we are too busy to ask the only vital question which measures the whole structure.  Why theatre at all?  What for? Is it an anachronism, a superannuated oddity, surviving like an old monument or a quaint custom? Why do we applaud, and what? Has the stage a real place in our lives? What function can it have?  What could it serve?  What could it explore?  What are its special properties?

Can we do this?  Can we spend some time asking ourselves "Why?" between now and our next meeting?  That is the conversation we need to have.  What's it going to be?  Drudgery or passion?  And what are we passionate about?  Passion is attractive.  Drudgery is repulsive.  Consider it this way:  If you were to quit this company tomorrow and start a new theatre company, what would you do different?  Why?  There is no reason we can't wipe the slate clean and start anew.  We just have to want it, and we have to communicate it with each other.

Bonus link (a podcast, not a video):

http://www.scpr.org/programs/offramp/2010/09/20/

Length:  29:28
Description:  Director Kiff Scholl, actor Kimberly Atkinson, writer/director Jaime Robledo, and managing director Padraic Duffy join Off-Ramp host for a romp through the current season of The Sacred Fools Theatre Company, which has done more than 100 productions in its 14 years in Hollywood.
Takeaway:  Passion = success, and passion does not equate with "carrot and stick."


* I will post this write-up here in the near future, in a slightly edited form.

[NOTE:  This review was originally published at Stage Happenings.]

Waiting for Lefty at Theatre West

by Andrew Moore

The "storm birds of the working class" have landed onstage at Theatre West, and they have brought a thoroughly enjoyable evening of theatre.

Director Charlie Mount has done a masterful job. Young directors would do well to attend this play and take notes: Mount owns his stage. No bit of blocking is wasted on trifles or dead-end conceits. Each player is exactly where he or she needs to be at all times. Yet there is a looseness about it all; an engineered chaos that doesn't seem engineered. It is the stamp of a professional that the strings never show, and so it is we know that a master is at work.

There is an effortless congruity in the design work. It is rather difficult to comment upon an environment so thoughtfully and elegantly rendered. It simply exists, an understated presence that lends authenticity to the actors efforts. The set by Jeff Beck encompasses the audience ever-so subtly. The attention to detail (a historically accurate, 48-star flag adorns the stage, no doubt to the delight of many a stickler) and utility elevate what could have easily been a perfunctory box set. The scene shifts from meeting hall to "various locations around New York City" is accomplished by Yancey Dunham's lighting and the director's sound design. The costume designer is not credited, which is unfortunate. Such attention to detail should be acknowledged.

The ensemble delivers to the hilt. There is not an ounce of dramatic potential that goes untapped, and the level of commitment is at times overwhelming -- particularly in the heat of the union meeting, when voices pierce the darkness of the back of the house, heckling the corrupt union leader who is trying to steer his constituents away from a strike. Stand-out performances (from a host of stand-out performances) include Paul Gunning and Kristin Wiegand as a pathetic couple past the brink of poverty, barely holding on to what little they have. Anthony Gruppuso, in the thankless role of racketeer and company stooge Harry Fatt, gives dimension to an otherwise two-dimensional baddie. Elizabeth Bradshaw brings earnest, white-hot frustration to the role of Dr. Benjamin, in an inspired bit of gender-blind casting.

Clifford Odet's stark morality play still packs considerable punch, even if the propaganda value has worn thin over the decades. He drops us in the thick of a union meeting as it turns ugly, the narrative repeatedly shifts away to vignettes that reveal the harsh reality these cab drivers inhabit. The pacing is economical, pushing the audience toward the inevitable climax. It is an effort any playwright should be envious of, but it is not without its problems.

Waiting for Lefty is a production of Theatre West's "Chestnuts" program, an aptly named effort "dedicated to quality revivals of great plays." Indeed, Lefty is a quality revival. What does this mean for a seventy-five year-old polemic written in the midst of the Great Depression? The production is largely a museum piece. Dramatic moments that must have seemed startling and bold when first performed seem simplistic and hackneyed in today's ever changing, increasingly complex world. Odet's play at times has the narrative depth of a "Shock SuspensStory" comic book or "Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln." Theatre West ably presents a living piece of theatre, despite the drawbacks of the material. The ensemble deserves high praise for breathing life into such stale lines. (Preaches one character: "One dollar buys ten loaves of bread, mister. Or one dollar buys nine loaves of bread and one copy of The Communist Manifesto. Learn while you eat!")

Waiting for Lefty is performed Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00 pm and Sundays at 2:00 pm through October 10th, 2010.

Theatre West is located at 3333 Cahuenga Blvd. West in Los Angeles (Just over the hill, north of the Hollywood Bowl.)

General admission is $22. Theatre West has a range of prices depending on your age, military affiliation, and various and sundry other factors. Visit the company at http://www.theatrewest.org/ for the whole ticket price smorgasbord, as well as online ticketing.

STOP PILING IT ON

 
We all know (or should know) how dreadfully important it is to have fantastic publicity.  In Los Angeles, the din is deafening.  To make theatre without a marketing plan of some sort; without someone serving as press agent is to find out first hand what happens when a tree falls in the woods and there is no one there to hear it.  Raise your hand if you've ever had more people on stage than in the audience. 

"Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place," said the Red Queen to Alice.  "If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"

Los Angeles is a town fueled on bullshit.  Raise your hand if you "have something in development," or are "talking to producers."  Everyone is working on a screenplay, and everyone is seeking new representation.  Yes, these are gross generalities, but you get the point.  Sit in three random Starbucks in Culver City, Hollywood and Santa Monica, and odds are you'll overhear variations of the above.  And why not?  This is the Eureka state.  Come for the gold, stay for the sunshine.

I wonder sometimes if we don't invest too heartily in our own bullshit.  Perhaps we shine things on a mite too much.  What would happen if postcards were outlawed tomorrow and if Facebook had a massive system failure?  What if we relied solely and completely upon -- gulp -- word of mouth?

Would we produce the same shows in the same way?  Would we endeavor to start on time and present ourselves more professionally in the lobby and box offices?  Without a kickass website and a seasoned publicist, would we find ourselves up shit creek?  I trust we'd still have the "first tier" audience (i.e. friends and family of the cast.)  How would we capture the tier two audience?  Those are the strangers who would otherwise pick up a postcard or click a link that got reposted somewhere.

I ask this in part because despite all the Los Angeles-quality PR it seems that few theatres successfully tap into that second tier audience.  I know Theatre Unleashed struggles to reach beyond the first tier.  It occurs to me that putting in the elbow grease and taking care of your customers -- and make no mistake, the People in the Dark are paying customers -- would generate over time the kind of general goodwill that PR efforts attempt to spark artificially with a glossy photo and a catchy slogan.

If you were no longer able to hide behind your bullshit, what would you do differently?  And why not go ahead and do it differently?  It's not like we couldn't use larger houses.