Small Theatre Aesthetics

I am late in noting this gem of a post by Travis Bedard at "Midnight Honesty at Noon," which gives excellent advice for people trying to produce plays on a limited budget. In a nutshell: quit your bitchin' and use your creativity instead of whining about how poor you are. He says it much better. Be sure to check it out.

Reactions to Tribalism Post

Despite having this blog for several years, I have just now figured out how Technorati works -- sort of. Ahem. Please no "old dogs" comments... Anyway, I was able to follow a few people who commented on my tribalism posts.

Don Hall, for instance, posts an endorsement with reservations in "A Tribe Has No Divas." Read the whole thing -- as is usually true with Don, he combines idealism and pragmatism with just a tang of skepticism. Sort of a Bacino's deep dish pizza of ideas. (God, I miss Bacino's.)

Anyway, there was a part of his post I wanted to address. He offers this scenario:

Jack can't get cast in anything substantive. He joins a theater tribe through volunteering his time and energy. He does box office, sweeps the floors, picks up the drycleaning, folds programs. In the back of his mind, he anticipates an eventual pay off for his labor. He is frustrated the next time he auditions for a show with the tribe and is not cast - after all, he has swept the floors and cleaned the toilets, he deserves an opportunity to be in a show.

The tribe can do one of two things. Cast Jack (even though he is not talented or skilled enough for an onstage role) and water down the artistic product, the very thing that whole tribe relies upon for its sustenance or not cast Jack and risk losing their volunteer janitor or worse, put up with the constant headache of an unsatisfied box office guy who is now starting to want that wage, given he can't seem to receive any artistic fulfillment.

My interpretation of Quinn would be that this isn't tribalistic behavior, but something more like the current theatrical model of internship, where young people do crappy jobs in the hopes of getting their foot in the door (and on the stage). According to Quinn, a tribe is a "coalition of people working together as equals." My reading of Quinn is that you don't "join a theater tribe through volunteering [your] time and energy," you join a theatre tribe by having something to offer that extends the tribe's earning power. You enter as a full member, not a junior member working your way up, and you only join if the tribe accepts the value of what you have to offer. So this isn't about doing the crap jobs -- everybody does these jobs, because they are necessary to produce work. But if you want to act, you must make that desire clear when you join, the tribe must see that as a needed and useful contribution. As Quinn notes, "A group that doesn't take good care of its members is a group that doesn't command much loyalty (and probably won't last long)." So having a frustrated actor cleaning the john isn't a great way to survive.

This is why Dennis Frymire's description of the Shadowbox Cabaret is not a description of a tribal theatre. Here's why:

The company runs on the philosophy that everybody in the company does everything: Not only do you perform, but you serve food and drink, you prepare food and drink, you run box office, you sweep the floors and clean the bathroom. [So far, so good.] If you can get past the fact that this requires 14 hour work days from the core company, and even more from the members who have "moved up", it looks great on paper. [the "core company" and the "members who have moved up"???]

Here's where the train goes completely off the tribal track:

The less-talented in the company are strung along, being told what they need to change to get stage time, while still having to do equal work as the people who are getting the stage time. [Uh-oh -- this is not a coalition of equals...] (I know of one girl who had corrective eye surgery done so she wouldn't have to wear her thick glasses, and thus, have the right company image.) [Shouldn't have let her in if you didn't like what she brings to the table in the first place...] Also, if a tribe is supposed to mean that everyone is getting their share equally, that was corrupted as well: When I was with the company, average company members were taking their meager pay [of $1000 a month] while one of the founding company members drove a beemer. [ding ding ding!!! That's not how it works, people -- the proceeds are equally divided. There is no hierarchy.]

In another part of the comments, Kerry brings up another problem:

I was in a playwrights' collective for a while in the Bay Area, and continued to participate from afar for a couple of years after I moved back to Chicago. After a particularly trying conference call concerning collective bidness, I got a call from a friend who used to be in Oobleck. I told her "I'm going to say a phrase, and I want you to utter the very first thing that comes to mind. Ready? Okay. 'Consensus-driven, nonprofit arts collective.'" She screamed loudly.

I think the bugaboo here is that every decision must be made by the group. Not so. Areas of responsibility are divided sensibly among the members of the tribe. The whole group is not voting on each light cue or marketing decision. But there is no doubt that tribalism is less efficient than hierarchy, but as I mentioned elsewhere, the inefficiency is magnified because we are never given any education in collaboration and consensus-building techniques. We think it just "happens," sort of like gravy just "happens when you cook the meat" according to Oscar Madison in The Odd Couple. We are brought up with the hierarchical model, and we don't really know how to effectively work as a group. If colleges would adopt tribalism as an additional model for theatrical production, then we would be required to teach those skills, in the same way that now we teach actors audition skills (one of the biggest waste of limited education time I can conceive of -- do business school spend an entire semester teaching their students how to create their resume?). [Someday, I will write a post venting about the incredible stupidity of the way we "train" theatre artists -- but it will be a long one, and a flamer. Stay tuned.]

Over at Collisionworks, Ian Hill, in what he calls a "massive sideline," writes:

One thing I've realized in seeing the posts about this idea is that the most fruitful tribes I've been a part of, as member or as boss (or, what I think is a more accurate term for this position in a tribe, "catalyst"), have all been based around a physical space - a theatre, a group of theatres, or a neighborhood.

He is completely correct, I believe -- a tribe is not only centered around an idea, but a place. It is comprised of a group of people who want to do a specific thing in a specific place. It isn't a launching pad for "stardom," but rather an end in itself, a way of life. If someone dreams of "moving up" to some more "prestigious" venue, then you don't want him or her in your tribe. Tribes require a commitment. And they require a place, because it is the place, and the variety of people in that place, that provide constant stimulation and broadening. Ian writes, "When the tribe becomes a single theatre company, it tends to turn in on itself and not work as well -- inbreeding produces defects." Yes, you need new members occasionally, but more importantly, you need substantive connections to the outside world. The 14-hour day mentioned by Dennis above is a recipe for disaster as far as personal growth is concerned. Art requires air, and contact with the world. When it becomes too focused on simply "doing shows," you end up with productions that no longer have anything to do with anyone outside the tribe. Tribe members should be involved in the community, doing service work, running for office, hanging out at neighborhood centers, playing pool in the pool hall, participating in the life of the community. Otherwise, all the air is sucked out of the theatrical balloon.

Pointer: Tom Borrup

Every once in a while, I like to point my readers toward essays that I have found inspiring or stimulating. I prefer to do so without adding my own comments, in the hope that readers will offer their insights in my comments box without my having spun it first. This is from Tom Borrup's great essay "Toward Asset-Based Community Cultural Development: A Journey Through the Disparate Worlds of Community Building":

I've thought a lot about how the arts contribute to (or work against) building empowered, civically engaged communities. The paradigm shift for me came when I was able to look into the community, the neighborhoods of everyday people around me, and see a vast well of creativity, culture, art and history. I no longer saw a cultural void or vacuum needing cleaning up, educating or the importation of great art and the cultural canons.

I believe that people are more engaged when they're respected for who they are and what they bring to the table. For cultural administrators, leaders and policy makers, it's more than the half-empty or half-full glass perspective. Contrary to most cultural institutional practices, I think it's about seeing opportunity to learn from the people around us, to foster exchange among them, to respect their cultural richness, and to nurture their creativity and talents. It's not about devising better packaging and marketing strategies for the artists we decide will be best for the community.

Some reluctant arrivals to the "multicultural movement" have simply substituted the idea of importing or imposing western European cultural norms with a wider menu of great cultural accomplishments, a view that still denies the self-worth and the existing cultural resources of their constituents and neighbors. It's not that masterful artistic achievements, Eurocentric or otherwise, aren't worth experiencing, it's that they're more meaningful to those who have their own sense of cultural self and self-worth.

It's about understanding that people are interested in the cultures of others and in great artists, but are likely to shut down or turn away when these works are brought to them with the attitude that they are superior to their own cultural experience. Respectfully drawing out the creative and cultural assets of each person, and of communities of people, is a first step to sparking an expansive cultural dialogue.

On Being a Thinking Blogger

Many thanks to Laura Axelrod for giving me a "Thinking Blogger Award." The origin of the award is the Thinking Blog, and the rules are as follows:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think,
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote (here is an alternative silver version if gold doesn't fit your blog).

The five blogs that make me think are as follows (and I will not include those already tagged by Laura, or Laura herself, although that makes this list incomplete):

Arlene Goldbard: Culture, Politics, and Spirituality: Arlene is a renowned expert and leader in community-based arts, and so her insights are worth their weight in gold to me. But in addition, as someone who sometimes gets a little too up-in-my-head, I appreciate Arlene's introspective, heartfelt posts that bring me back to my feelings.

Jill Dolan: The Feminist Spectator: Jill's insights bring me great joy, her non-elitist joy in all kinds of art reminds me to refuse to get too damned academic, and her writing soars.

Ian MacKenzie: Theatre Is Territory: There is a refreshing openness to this blog, a joy in the many different people and ideas that make up the theatre scene in Canada and the US. This is an engaged blog that is simulatenously non-judgmental.

Matt Freeman: On Theatre and Politics: I really like Matt's no-nonsense, pragmatic thought processes. He can cut through the BS like no other.

Andrew Taylor: The Artful Manager: Like Matt, Andrew has a pragmatic flavor to his blog. I admire the way he brings in ideas from all over the intellectual map and applies them to theatre. Great stuff.

Thanks to you all, and the many others who contribute their thoughts to the theatrosphere, that keep me inspired, stimulated, and entertained.

More on Tribalism

I'm going to cannibalize a comment I made on Paul Rekk's outstanding blog Que j'ai reve. Paul was writing in response to my post immediately below concerning Daniel Quinn's ideas about occupational tribalism. In his post (go read it) he notes many past theatres and movements that seemed to follow the tribalist impulse.

In the comments, Tony quoted Ben Cameron's excellent advice offered as he left TCG:

* Do not assume that you have to have some prescribed conditions to do your best work.
* Do not wait.
* Do not wait for enough time or money to accomplish what you think you have in mind.
* Work with what you have right now.
* Work with the people around you right now.
* Work with the architecture you see around you right now.
* Do not wait for what you assume is the appropriate, stress-free environment in which to generate expression.
* Do not wait for maturity or insight or wisdom.
* Do not wait till you are sure that you know what you are doing.
* Do not wait until you have enough technique.
* What you do now, what you make of your present circumstances will determine the quality and scope of your future endeavors.

I replied as follows:

Quinn's personal example of a tribe was when he and his wife started a community newspaper, the East Mountain News, in New Mexico. First, there was just the two of them, and they put out a few issues together. Then, a retired newspaper photographer called them and asked if he could work with them -- he said he could do everything except sell advertising. They said that unless they sold more advertising, they wouldn't be able to make it. He said he'd sell advertising. Then a writer contacted them and asked if she could work with them: "Can you sell advertising?" "I can sell anything." This is the rule about new additions adding to the income in some way. And so the four of them did the newspaper. They only printed as many copies as the advertising would pay for, and they split the leftovers equally. No salaries or wages.

The point is that they didn't spend a lot of time making sure they had a common vision of what a newspaper should be, they just created a newspaper together and shaped it as they went. They were four people who wanted to do a newspaper -- period. When Quinn suggested, when money was a little low, that they turn the newspaper into a shopper, which would be more lucrative, everyone said no -- because they wanted to do a newspaper, not a shopper. The money was secondary -- important, but secondary. If it was primary, they would have done a shopper.

You love theatre. If there are a couple more people who also love it, and who are willing and able to contribute their energy in whatever way is necessary to keep the theatre going, then you're on your way. Negotiate as you go.

I agree with Ben Cameron: work with what you have right now. Don't have a theatre, and don't have enough money for a theatre? Then find some place else to perform -- a community center, a retirement home, somebody's living room. Scale your work to the resources available. This is how Commedia dell 'Arte worked, and to some extent Shakespeare and Burbage worked (although they employed wage laborers to play the smaller parts, so it wasn't a pure tribe.) This isn't a new-fangled idea, but something we've forgotten.

I also like your idea about looking outward, too. This is how Steppenwolf and Mabou Mines works -- their members always return home. But initially, they worked intensely together.

By the way, I think a tribe could extend beyond simply using theatrical techniques to create productions. For instance, you might hire yourselves out to businesses to help with training, with team building -- use Boal techniques to help people brainstorm solutions to problems. Write grants to collect oral histories, and then occasionally use those oral histories to create new work. Do podcasts and audiobooks. Expand as desired, but always make sure you have enough people who extend the income base.
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Note: Thanks to Slay for this correction: "In the long quotation from Ben Cameron up there, he's actually quoting at length the last page of Anne Bogart's book "A Director Prepares". So, if you like what he says there, get the book. It's full of gems like that." You heard him -- go get the book!

The New Tribalism and Theatre

I have been wanting to write about Daniel (Ishmael) Quinn's book Beyond Civilization: Humanity's Next Great Adventure, but I haven't had sufficient time to do it justice. I still don't have time, but if I wait until I do I'll never get it posted.

The book as a whole is a fascinating exploration of of what Quinn called "Taker" and "Leaver" culture in Ishmael. I urge you to read Beyond Civilization in its entirety, and then read Ishmael and Providence: The Story of a Fifty-Year Vision Quest. I've read all three in the past couple weeks, and they made a strong impact.

The part six of Beyond Civilization is called "The New Tribal Revolution," and it begins with this quotation:

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

--Buckminster Fuller

I'm not certain that what Quinn is proposing is a new model as much as a return to a new and equally original version of an old model. In essence, what he proposes is "occupational tribalism: self-sustaining "tribes" organized around a way of making a living. Before we go any further and you start having 60s flashbacks, it is necessary to differentiate a "tribe" from a "commune." "Communes are about living together and may or may not involve working together. Tribes...originate among people who want to pool their energies and skills to make a living together" and they don't necessarily live together (in fact, it is probably better if they don't).

If you're thinking, "Say, this sounds like what theatre people sometimes do, especially in the indie movement" Quinn agrees with you. In fact, two of the three examples he gives of tribes in our culture are theatrical: small traveling circuses, and the Chicago theatre group the Neo-Futurists. He also talks about a small community newspaper that he, his wife, and several committed friends ran in Arizona.

However, be careful about thinking that all small theatres are tribal, because it isn't true. Most theatres, large or small, involve employees arranged in a hierarchy of power, whereas "a tribe is nothing more than a coalition of people working together as equals to make a living." [ital mine] It is a self-sustaining, ongoing group of people who, "among them, have all the competencies needed to start and run a given business," who are "content with a modest standard of living," and who are "willing to think 'tribally -- that is, to take away what they need out of the business rather than to expect set wages." A self-sustaining tribe "needs to perform all the functions that will make it successful." While each person may have something they are especially good at, they nevertheless share responsibility for all aspects of the tribal business. So, in the case of a theatre, a person may be an actor, but if program ads need to be sold or lights hung, you willingly pitch in. Again, at least to some extent, this is the case in most indie theatres.

But note one factor that drops many theatres out of the tribal category: it is an ongoing group. In other words, it is not a small group of "leaders" who hold auditions to cast actors and/or hire designers from the outside. All members of the tribe are insiders, and as such have equal commitment to the health and direction of the tribe. In other words, "members of the tribe aren't employees of the tribe, they are the tribe....Because the tribe is its members, the tribe is what its members want it to be -- nothing more and nothing less." Obviously, if you think that a theatre requires a single "visionary" that everybody follows, and who makes most substantive artistic decisions, then Quinn's vision is not for you.

As far as the extension of the tribe to include new members, the "tribal rule of thumb is: Can you extend the living to include yourself? In other words, if you want to live out of the tribal occupation, you'll have to extend the group's earning power to the point where it covers you."

This doesn't mean there isn't a "boss." However, "all jobs must be done -- and the boss's is just pone of them. In hierarchical organizations, the boss is a supreme being. In tribal organizations, the boss is just another worker."

What is most important is a mutual commitment from all concerned to the tribe. Each individual commits to the tribe, and the tribe to the individual. It is necessary to make money for the tribe to continue, but at the same time money isn't the object.

The theatre must be kept going so that it can keep the tribe going, but when money-making becomes more important than the idea that holds the group together, then the tribe falls apart.

What all this means, first and foremost, and perhaps most difficult for theatre people to embrace, is the abandonment of the individualistic concept of career and creativity. If you look at something like, say, the Group Theatre of the 1930s, in some ways (especially in the first years) there was a tribal sensibility. But the organization was hierarchical (Clurman, Strasberg, and _____ made all the decisions), and each individual artist abandoned the theatre to pursue their own careers. It also means giving up a sense that you are a specialist who, if all is going well, doesn’t stoop to working outside your specialty. No divas in tribes.

Why this is important, at least to me, goes back to my steadfast belief that the current industrial system of production, which resembles more a Ford plant than an artistic process, doesn’t function in a way that furthers the art forms. From an educational standpoint, I think I should be teaching students to form tribes rather than how to go out and get headshots, agents, and slick audition techniques.

Does everyone need to do this? Hell no. “What Daniel Quinn teaches is that no single person is going to save the world. Rather (if it’s saved at all), it will be saved by millions (and ultimately billions) of us living a new way. A thousand living a new way won’t cause the dominant world order to topple. But a thousand will inspire a hundred thousand, who will inspire a billion – and then that world order will begin to look shaky.”

As I mentioned, Quinn mentions the Neo-Futurists. Of course, there are other theatres who follow this same basic pattern. One might think of Mabou Mines or the Wooster Group, perhaps, or many, many other theatres around the country. So perhaps in addition to looking at what they create, we should be writing about how they create it.

The question I would ask you, dear reader, is how such an approach to theatre production might be creatively empowering. Not for everyone, of course, but if you find yourself intrigued by the idea, how might it be good for you?

Sharing

I was reading an article called "Simulation Nation" in the magazine Edutopia (published by the George Lucas Educational Foundation). In it, author Marc Prensky writes about why more simulations aren't used in K-12 education. Among his reasons: Lack of sharing. He writes:

In the age of the Internet, it seems logical that when something works for a teacher in one classroom, it should be quickly broadcast to everyone teaching that class or level. But our teachers, for the most part, are terrible at sharing. Those who have success with simulations owe it to their colleagues to post what they do on the Web -- as an HTML page, a Web site, a blog entry, or a video -- available for all to see.

I immediately thought of theatre blogging. We write an enormous amount about our opinions, but we don't often share our discoveries. What works? What doesn't? Wouldn't it be a wonderful learning tool for theatre students everywhere if there were a cache of tips and discoveries from theatre professionals that would give them the benefit of our experience? And if we created a set of tags that we would hold in common, a Delicious search would easily lead them to all the different ideas. Theatre teachers could draw from the posts in constructing their classes, motivated freelancers could deepen their knowledge base without having to rely on college profs.

We've seen the power of the theatrosphere when an idea like the national opening caught fire. Might we also harness that power for educating young people and each other?