The Spasms of the Macrocosmos

I decided to go with two:

• A variety of major Bay Area theaters—the Magic, ACT, Marin Theatre Company, the Aurora, San Jose Rep, and SF Playhouse—have opened their 2010-2011 seasons with plays that either prominently feature an African-American performer, or, more likely, center on a part of the African-American experience. What does this trend say? Why are these shows at the beginning of the season? Do any of these theaters make African-Americans a focus later in the season? And why, in a city in which Hispanics outnumber African-Americans by two to one and Asians outnumber African-Americans by almost five to one, are no other racial and ethnic minorities getting plays produced about their experiences?

• Last month, when departing the Magic Theatre after a show, I was approached by a woman with a video camera about giving an “audience testimonial.” I declined because I was reviewing the production, but it seemed she was taking comments from anyone leaving the theater. Later, I received an email from the Magic touting the success of opening night—with filmed audience testimonials to prove it! But how do audience members feel about being used for marketing purposes in this manner? Are there certain pressures inherent in it that make for less-than-honest responses? Why do some theaters use it? Why do others refrain?

If American Theatre isn't interested, maybe I'll solicit another publication!

To read, or not to read?

The Players of the We Players' Hamlet: Ali Hanson, Cara Zeisloft, Rebecca Longworth, Caroline Rebecca Parsons, and Sallie Romer

(Photo by Peter Merts)

In working on my review of the We Players' production of Hamlet, I have been, I'm only slightly sorry to say, influenced by exogenous forces.

Because I write for a weekly, other critics' reviews of a play often appear days before mine do. Nonetheless, I usually avoid reading their work. My articles are supposed to be about the play itself, not about the conversation surrounding it.

But when I quasi-accidentally catch a glimpse of those articles, my work, I feel, improves. Rather than trying to assess the work generally, I am then primed to focus on points of inquiry others have already singled out as worthy of discussion. Those writers have done the dirty work; I get to capitalize on it.

My review of Hamlet this week falls into that category: I skimmed someone else's article before writing my own. (The height of sin!)

But partly due to my inadvertent engagement and partly due to the unique nature of the We Players' site-specific production, I'm writing what I consider one of my most honest reviews in a while. I was even able to get away from the format I've felt trapped in: catchy intro/overall assessment, plot summary, acting evaluation, design evaluation, suggestions for future productions.

It's counterintuitive that by reading someone else's work I should be able to become more original, and despite this week's success I will try to avoid the habit, lest I should start to feel the pressure to say something new, instead of just saying what I want to say.

Or should I just suck it up and be as informed as possible?

Stay tuned: The hemming and hawing continues.

My New Source for Critical Pith; A Challenge

(Or, just to overwhelm this site with images of dead white guys.)

"A good drama critic is one who perceives what is happening in the theatre of his time. A great drama critic also perceives what is not happening."

-- Kenneth Tynan

Over the next couple weeks, I'll be brainstorming "pitch ideas" that this grant, which would allow me to write two articles for American Theatre (the biggest theatre magazine in the country), requires as part of its application. So far I have only written about individual productions. Trends, currents, or even spasms of the macrocosmos -- these things that require longitudinal analysis, conclusions drawn from often anecdotal evidence (which requires actually talking to people) -- have not yet entered my journalistic purview. But never fear: I shall find ye, "topics related to the Bay Area theatre scene," even if at first my short-sighted means can find little more than ripples and twitches!

A Brief Indulgence in Pessimism

"As a spokesman for newspaper drama critics, Winter defended his coterie against attacks levied by Dion Boucicault in 1889. Boucicault accused critics of being both corrupt and detrimental to the theater. He said they were generally incompetent and biased. Newspapers, said Boucicault, had usurped the public's rightful role as drama's judges. Winter conceded that neither the press nor the public showed very good judgment in evaluating plays, but he argued that newspapers were not corrupting public taste since they had little influence upon their readers."

-- Charles W. Meister, Dramatic Criticism: A History

Theatrical Copywriting: Some Origins

From the playbill of the December 1, 1864, performance of Coriolanus, starring Edwin Forrest, at the American Academy of Music, in Philadelphia, which was under the management of John T. Ford:

"The Splendid, Popular and Artistic Triumphs, which the Presence and Applause of the Nightly Crowded Audience conveyed, has abundantly confirmed Mr. Ford's confidence in the appreciative taste of Philadelphia, and encourages his anticipation of a succession of similar triumphs, the Wealth and Brilliancy of which will become Memorable in the Annals of Art."

From a London Times review of the same Mr. Forrest, in an 1836 production of Spartacus, at the Drury-Lane Theatre, in London:

"Mr. Forrest was received with a hearty warmth, which, from the first moment of his appearance, left no doubt, if any could have been entertained, that the audience were well disposed to accept his exertions for their entertainment. He is a tall, rather robust man, of some 30 years of age, not remarkably handsome, but with expressive features, and that cast of countenance which is well suited for theatrical effect."

The Pitfalls of Camaraderie: Or, A Justification of Dark Glasses

Should a critic socialize or engage with the artists in his/her field? Or should she remain detached and aloof, the better to evaluate a work objectively?

I was thinking about this question during a performance of Mrs. Warren's Profession at CalShakes this weekend. One of the show's leads, Anna Bullard, and I worked together last year, and in this current production, I occasionally saw glimpses of Anna, the actress -- a facial expression here, an intonation there -- in the way she portrayed Vivie, her character. Of course, I don't expect an actor to completely dispense with her sense of self in playing someone else -- on the contrary. Especially for a pro like Anna, the selective harnessing of personal experience and physical repertoire can help an actor relate to a character. Did those recognitions make me unable to sustain my disbelief? I don't think so: If anything, catching bits of Anna's lovely personality in her performance only made the experience more pleasurable for me.

Fortunately, because Anna performed so well, I won't have to tackle a more difficult question: Had I criticisms of her work, would I be able to voice them candidly in my upcoming review? Were I a true professional, the answer would be yes. And other Bay Area critics I've spoken with have said yes for themselves, despite the tightly-knit nature of our community. A few, so I've heard, have even started a theatre salon, in which professionals across the discipline -- critics, actors, directors, designers, writers -- meet periodically to discuss, "candidly," the artistic issues of our time and region.

Yet not all are so chipper about this epidemic of bonhomie. I've heard one editor complain that San Francisco's critics "dance around" actual criticism. And Theatre Bay Area has recently stated a desire to "hold up a new standard, challenging ourselves as an organization and striving to foster excellence -- especially artistic excellence -- in our region's theatre community." Translation: It's time to take some responsibility for the quality of our theatre.

I wonder, therefore, if critics are really as candid as they say they are. I wonder, too, if more candor would even increase artistic quality, or if criticisms would be taken too personally, the more vitriolic among them overstating their authors' cases and killing artists' creative impulses.

In any case, I know I always think more carefully when reviewing a production whose participants I know personally. When you want someone to succeed as an artist, it's more difficult to succeed as a critic.

Plot Summaries

In his review of A Visit from the Goon Squad, by Jennifer Egan, Will Blythe writes:"If you're like me, you tend to regard plot summaries as a necessary boredom at best. They're the flyover country between a reviewer's landing strips of judgment, revealing almost nothing about the way a book actually works, almost nothing about why it succeeds or fails. If plot were the crucial measure, there'd be no difference between a story about the fish that got away and 'Moby-Dick.' Reading such summaries (or writing them) is usually as beguiling as listening to some addled fan of 'Lost' explain what happened on that botched rune of a show." -- The New York Times Book Review

Your Lost politics aside, these difficulties resonate -- even more for theatre critics, I dare say, than for book critics. In play reviews, limiting plot summary to a paragraph is not just prudent; it's necessary. Theatre critics do not merely evaluate a writer; they evaluate the whole host of artistic professionals who collaborate on a production. So how could one devote more than a few sentences to synopsis when that alone is unlikely to sufficiently evaluate the playwright, let alone the cast, crew and design team?

Yet even including the most concise of plot blurbs can feel contrived, meaningless, unworthy of the paraphrased piece. The reason we have art and literature is that a few naked, purely narrative sentences cannot alone arouse emotion or conjure meaning. Plot summaries read more like straight journalistic prose than they do the literature they describe or the literary criticism toward which their (more ambitious) authors aspire. They are the book reports of journalism: Character and actor names crowd and tangle. Events all seem to follow teleological trajectories. And before one can even begin to care about disembodied names and events, the summary is over and the review has (thankfully) returned to what the reviewer does best: reviewing.

Readers, however, want and deserve to know what shows are "about." Either to judge their own desire to see a production or to evaluate a review on its own merit, they need to know a few nuts and bolts, a few objective truths, about a production. But maybe classical plot summary is not the only way to establish common ground. Perhaps a reviewer might describe more abstract themes. Perhaps she might write a "trailer" of sorts that includes choice quotes and choice images.

I'll be on the prowl for reviews that tackle this problem with stylistic ingenuity. Updates to come!