Just Wrought

Recovering playwright, once won a STRANGER Genius Award for theater. Now writing a bloated novel about… G-d help me! Theatre.

Tag: The Wooden O

  • Shakespeare Would Hate Us

    Shakespeare Would Hate Us

    A couple of weeks ago I mentioned to a friend of mine that I was thinking of auditioning for The Wooden O this year, since for the first time in a years I won’t be on vacation during their run.  My buddy, who happens to be a Seattle firefighter, but whose wife acts with the O on occasion, trotted out a taunt he likes to tweak me with: “But Paul, you hate Shakespeare.”

    He bases this facetious conclusion on a challenge I proposed some years back calling on all Seattle  theatres to self-impose a Shakespeare hiatus for one year.  Brendan Kiley, Arts Editor for The Stranger, picked the idea up and wrote about it here.  I still genuinely believe this would be a grand and beneficial experiment, but not because I hate Shakespeare—quite the opposite.  As a playwright I flatter myself that I understand the man’s genius better than most of the directors and actors who worship so sycophantically at his altar for all the wrong reasons. 

    “It’s the language that makes his plays so exquisite.”

    “No, it’s his sumptious, multifaceted characters.”

    “No, no, it’s the tradition, the chance to etch one’s mark on the living canon of performance.”

    It’s all bullshit.  Shakespeare was a great—yes, even the greatest—playwright for one and only one simple reason: he wrought great plays.  All the rest is just so much makings.  You might praise a chef for her choice of ingredients, but you wouldn’t claim them as the reason for her genius.  A year without Shakespeare would help us gain some much needed clarity and distance from the material.  We would come back to it ready to attack with refreshed hearts.  And it would also get us off his cash-cow tit for long enough to taste a little bona fide self-sufficiency.  Hell, we might actually miss Shakespeare.  That currently unfathomable notion alone would make a break worth it, wouldn’t it?

    Never mind.  I already know the answer.  It was shouted at me and Kiley at the Seattle Theatre ShitStorm back in 2008.  And it has been shouted just as fiercely upon every subsequent mention.  “Never!  We will NEVER stop staging Shakespeare. Not for a year.  Not for a month.  How dare you!?  You and the rest of your modern playwright ilk are not fit to wipe the soles of his pointy shoes.”  The level of vituperation one encounters upon even suggesting a breather from the bard naturally calls a paraphrase of one of his more famous lines to mind, “Methinks the status quo doth protest too much.”

    Yes, American Theatre literally worships Shakespeare.  And I have to laugh, because I am pretty sure he would have hated us.

    Shakespeare was a playwright, poet, player and proprietor, in equal measure, despite our hindsighted emphasis on the first of those four.  He made plays to make money and he made a lot of both. He would hate our precious process of endless workshopping plays to an early death on dusty shelves.  At the Globe you worked the problems of a play in performance. 

    He would hate that people more often read his plays than see them.

    He would hate, or not have been even able to comprehend, a system in which playwrights make plays for performance in cities far from where they live, for less than it costs them to create, for the narrowest sliver of society.

    He would hate that so many modern American playwrights have never acted and never produced, have never done anything in a theatre except watch silently from dark seats.

    Since he shared them, he would sympathize with the milquetoast middle class aspirations of most American playwrights—“I just want to have a house and a family and make the same kind of money as my friends I went to college with”— but he would grow to hate them eventually.  Shakespeare may have envied his social superiors, but he also knew at his core he was better than them.

    He would not hate that we kiss the asses of our benefactors and patrons, but he would hate how poorly and surreptitiously and self-loathingly we do it; almost never managing, as he did, to flatter and skewer with the same loaded lines: floating sublimely above, then suddenly crawling at them from beneath, being everyone and no one at the same time with such stunning success that even today reasonably sane and educated people entertain themselves with the pseudo-intellectual dalliance that he did not even write the plays which he so clearly did.

    He would have hated the MFA system for generating new viral spores of actors, playwrights and directors when there isn’t enough work for the ones already in the system.

    He would have hated the advent of the auteur director, smothering the natural brilliance of his plays with their dense cloying concepts.

    He would hate that artistic administrators make the decisions about which plays get done, instead of a consensus of proprietor/players, all sharing the ownership of the theatre, and thus the risks and rewards.

    And most of all, he would hate our necrophilic prejudice for his plays, even the poor ones, over anything new, even the good ones.  As the consummate playwright, he would want us to love the living writers as much or more than the dead.

    So, yeah, I’m pretty sure if Shakespeare were alive today he would hate us.

    And he’d be writing for television.

  • Let’s Put a Bullet in the Ugliest Rumor

    Let’s Put a Bullet in the Ugliest Rumor

    Much as I may seem to like banging on Seattle’s Big Houses here at Just Wrought, I am compelled to make clear from the outset of this essay that they are not the perpetrators but rather the victims of the ugliest rumor currently hovering like a toxic miasma over the Seattle theatre scene.  To understand this you need to understand that beyond the Big Houses, and the dwindling mid-sized houses, and even the small alternative theatres, there exists a whole other tier of arts professionals that exercise a huge influence on the operations of these producing entities, while putting little if any actual creative “skin in the game.”  I am talking about the “booster class” of arts organizations– entities like Theatre Puget Sound, ArtsFund, PONCHO, and the boards of directors at every mid to large theatre in this town.

    These institutions tend to be led by well-meaning, “right-thinking” liberal-minded members of the upper upper middle class (formerly the “Upper Class” before the rich began to resent being called “rich”).  The boosters usually come from a corporate background and tend to have adopted standard corporate best practices as articles of faith.  (Full disclosure: I work at a large bio-tech company for my day job.  So I am both tainted by the American corporate ethos as well as intimately familiar with it.)  The Booster Class sees themselves as the noble guardians and advisors of the Artist Class.  They believe they understand quite a bit better than their artistic little brethren how the big bad real world works; and they are convinced that the best way to ensure the survival of the art form they are boosting—in this case theatre—is to apply the rules and philosophies of business to their operation.  Thus, we get general, inoffensive/ineffective, broad spectrum marketing campaigns like ArtsCrush, or the cold-blooded shuttering of the Empty Space because its board of directors decided it was not performing to the standards of a viable Silicon Valley startup.

    That sad story brings us to the ugliest rumor: that many of the leaders at or near the top of these booster organizations believe that Seattle just isn’t big enough, rich enough, or cultured enough to sustain three major League of Resident Theatres (LORT) venues like A Contemporary Theatre, Intiman Theatre and The Seattle Repertory Theatre.  One of these will have to go, goes the thinking, preferably in the next few years.  Whether this happens via out right murder, like the aforementioned Empty Space, or merger, like the recent marriage of Seattle Shakespeare Company to The Wooden O, remains to be determined; but either way, murder or merger, what seems to the corporate-minded like a necessary act of cultural husbandry will in fact be an irrevocable disaster for the cultural ecology of Seattle.  We have to make sure it never happens.

    I understand that to corporate eyes, the Seattle theatre is overdue for a down-sizing.  No other town of our population size has asmany large regional theatres.  In corpo-speak there are all kinds of economies of scale to be leveraged and redundancies to be eliminated by closing one of the Big Three or merging it with another.  What this analysis overlooks is that theatres are less like widget-manufacturers and more like ecosystems.  Diversity matters.  For Seattle to make a run at world class status as a theatre town, it needs all of its Big Houses, plus a lot more middle-sized spaces, and it needs all of them to be as different from each other as possible.

    Of course, sadly the Big Three have done everything possible over the last fifteen years to make themselves less distinguishable from each other as an Applebee’s® is from a Red Robin® is from a T.G.I. Friday’s®.  They hire the same actors, designers and directors.  They fight for the same plays, semi-fresh from New York.  When called on their lack of local freshness, they hold up for cover the same one or two nice playwrights, local or not, call them “local” and call it good, while hoping that the call for “local” goes the way of the Empty Space.  (It won’t.)

    Instead, they should privately strive and publicly argue for what sets them apart from their competitors.  (Yes, Big Three, I said “competitors.”  The concept might make you squeamish, but your Booster bosses don’t share your scruples, and your audience actually enjoys an honest rivalry.)  The Bigs should also locally source as many of the stories they stage as possible.  (Just ask Tom Douglas: great local restaurants start with great local ingredients.)  Finally they should develop an aesthetic and stick with it, building their artistic corps around this defining core. 

    That’s right, B3: pull the artists you like working with in house.  As celebrated local scenic designer Matthew Smucker once plaintively exclaimed in the comments section of this blog:  “Freelance is killing us all, so give us all a home.”  Oh, and while I’m ranting: stop choosing safe plays.  Theatres are built to contain danger so that audiences can experience it without actually being damaged.  When you consistently choose safe plays, or direct dangerous plays safely, you smother the internal fires of our art form.  Instead of strategizing to survive, strive to make a difference.

    The differences matter; and as happy irony would have it, they better ensure your survival.  When theatres are truly diverse, audiences will care about diversity.  Then they will make ticket purchases based on it.  People will go to all three venues to marvel at the differences, like enjoying varied species at the zoo.  As it is now, they aren’t convinced they are missing anything if they fail to catch Intiman’s latest because they are fairly certain that eventually they will see something similar at ACT. 

    Now, in all fairness, I could be wrong.  The rumor could be baseless.  When I recently checked my sources,  a certain much more knowledgeable colleague of mine said:  “The movement toward ‘consolidation’ of big houses, which was at one time aimed at ACT and Intiman, and then at the Rep and Intiman, is now largely over.”  What’s more, apparently there is a counter rumor circulating that the booster organizations which were originally pushing for these mergers (ArtsFund and PONCHO, to varying degrees) are now in worse shape than the theatres themselves.  There might even be a movement afoot to merge them.  Hah!  True or not, you cannot help relishing the poetic justice.

    Still, we have to stay vigilant.  Seattle cannot lose even one of these Big Houses, and the boosters who seek to “right-size” Seattle theatre need to be convinced that our theatre scene is fatter than an average city’s because Seattle is destined for greatness.  Let’s put a bullet in this rumor once and for all.  Let every leader at every booster organization even remotely associated with the survival of the Intiman, ACT and the Rep publically avow the following:

    I understand that for Seattle to rise to its rightful place as a world class theatre town it cannot afford to lose any of its three LORT theatres.  I will do everything in my power to ensure the survival of the Intiman Theatre, A Contemporary Theatre and the Seattle Repertory Theatre in perpetuity, and I will reject any attempt to destroy or dilute their potential diversity whether by murder or merger.

    Further, I will demand that these institutions maximize the differences among themselves, so that a truly vibrant and viable theatrical ecology can thrive here, such that the loss of any one of these theatres will be utterly irrevocable, and thus unthinkable.

    Now, this is not too much to ask, is it?

    Step forward, Boosters!  And take the pledge!