The End of An Era (Not 2011, but When Theatre Had Political Power)

When Vaclav Havel passed away one week ago, I felt an era end. He rose to be president of Czechoslovakia and the first President of the Czech Republic after leading the Velvet Revolution that peacefully overthrew Communism. He rose to be a leader of the Revolution...by being a playwright. (We performed his Cahoots Macbeth at Brookline High School. It rocked.) The voices and ideas he put on stage spoke powerfully against oppression and ignited and inspired his audiences to action, so much so that his plays and performances were first restricted and later simply banned.


Only two years earlier, Augusto Boal died. In Brazil, he rose to both indirect and direct, elected political power – as a City Councillor in Rio – through theater writing, creating, and directing. The leftist, Brazilian-born nature of his theater work in the 50s and 60s led to his being kidnapped, tortured, and exiled to Argentina after the 1964 Brazilian coup. In exile, he codified his work in the now-classic book "Theatre of the Oppressed." His work from then to his death – including returning to Brazil in 1986, getting elected to public office, and using theatre to generate and enact voter-written legislation – used theatre to empower oppressed communities around the world.


Today, it's rare to find someone who, asked to list influential people, would name a playwright. Celebrities would abound – and perhaps a filmmaker or two – but not playwrights. We lose something when we minimize theatre's voices, for theatre is a storytelling form that's inherently populist, much freer from corporate and governmental pressures, much more local in its nature than are broadcast media.


In the wake of Havel's death, I've been remembering when I've most doubted the value of continuing as an actor and producer, whether doing so mattered at all. (I have doubts and fears regularly – that's just part of the game – but I'm talking about deep, existential doubt, which is rarer.) In 2009, I was doubting a lot, just feeling like telling a bunch of stories was no way to make a difference, and the world is too damaged to let myself – a smart, effective person – not make a difference. I started to ask around about how to get directly involved in public issues, from nonprofits to White House Fellowships. I talked to everyone I knew who seemed to be making an impact, from veterans to counselors to clergy members (I thought semi-seriously about becoming a Rabbi).


Simultaneously, I started work on Stage Matters, a short documentary on why/how/if theatre matters that Firefly made for Theatre Communications Group (TCG) to kick off their 2010 National Conference on Theatre. (I'll get to the video below.) Through late 2009 and early 2010, we traveled the country talking to the people who make theatre. Every last person we interviewed was inspiring – dedicated, passion-driven, bright. 


By the spring of 2010, I found myself sitting at opening night of Firefly's off-Broadway production of Geraldine Hughes' Belfast Blues, and I was recommitted. Geraldine tells her story of growing up in war-torn Belfast, and I realized how profoundly and inherently political, how wonderful a use of the First Amendment, it is to sit together in a dark room and hear directly from the unflinching voice of a child of war. The discomfort and catharsis of the audience on that night brought home the truth of what TCG's Board Member Bruce Johnson said of good theatre when we interviewed him: it should "comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable."


As the end-of-year contemplative time approaches, I remember with gratitude the life and work of Vaclav Havel and other artist politicians like him throughout the ages.  


Happy Chanukah, Merry Christmas, and soon, a Happy New Year,
SK




As promised, Part 1 of Stage Matters...

Stage Matters pt. 1 from Theatre Communications Group on Vimeo.

And for those interested in the more insidery exploration of the challenges facing theatre today, here's the brief Part 2...

Stage Matters pt. 2 from Theatre Communications Group on Vimeo.


And lastly, for an amusing look at some of theatre's impact throughout the ages (it's been banned often), here's a link to Firefly's amusing animated short, The Complete History of Theatre, Abridged.

Being Bi-Coastal, aka "Living the Dream"

I take the end of each year seriously, feeling great pressure to get closure on projects, set everything up for success the next year, and leave enough time before New Years to dig in to ritualized introspection. For a decade, I threw a weeklong New Years retreat with a bunch of friends. We’d head to the mountains of Lake Arrowhead, get a cabin, and discuss our year past and to come while enjoying lazy days and some bacchanalian nights. They are treasured, youthful, life-loving memories, and they’ve also instilled this state I enter every December…a state that, apparently, challenges blogging, given my absence.

We’ve also begun work on the 2012 iteration of Unscreened, an evening of theater that was originally thought up by Black Sheep Entertainment and which we produce together. We invite brilliant, buzz-worthy screenwriters to write short plays. The immediacy of theatre production them gives them what is always a rare and sometimes their only experience of working directly with actors – including me – on the words they write. It’s been absorbing. But more on that in posts to come.

I was going to write only about Being Bi-Coastal. I live in both Brooklyn and Los Angeles, with apartments in each, and I don’t have a trust fund. Artists often dream of this life – as I did years ago – and folks ask "how" often enough that I thought I'd say: there are a few tricks worth mentioning. Of course, you have to have built your career and/or sustenance job to a point that you can have some freedom. But, as you gain that – which is much less than you think – you’ll see people around you start spending more on...well, just about everything. Don’t. To boil it down: (i) Don’t ratchet up your standard of living while those around you do, even as you start to gain your first success. This is a key to lifelong living as an artist anyway. Live within your means. (ii) When others start moving into nicer digs, allocate for two cheaper apartments instead. With time looking, you’d be surprised what you can find. (iii) Double clothes and toiletries and put some at each place. (iv) Here’s the trick: you’ll pay for far fewer flights than you’d think. Get a credit card with airline miles attached and build points. Especially if you charge portions of production and start well ahead of your Bi-Coastal Launch, you’ll find you pay for only a minority of the flights you take. (v) You're done. You've come out as bi-coastal. You can fly with just a carry-on, knowing there's a toothbrush at the other place. And you can head to NY for foliage and LA for...well beautiful weather always, if that's your thing.

But it’s also interesting to me, as evidenced by my blog lag, how much I resist the whole Social Media thing, even as I recognize its power. I feel sometimes like my dad staring at a DVR. I never understood his hesitation before. But, yes: given what I do, my resistance is something I’m working to overcome. Speaking of which, a reader sent in an amusing and related link thinking back about how tweets from artists now gone might have changed things. 

Hope the holiday build-up goes well!