The State of Theatre

This past weekend, I was honored to serve as an adjudicator and workshop presenter for the Wyoming High School State Thespian Festival.  This is the annual event in which theatre students from high schools all over the state gather for the purpose of putting on the best theatre they can.  And, while the hardware that they can come home with seems like something of Gollum's ring every now and then, the true reward that should be sought after is the environment of inclusiveness that this art form can engender.  

During one of the feedback sessions with one of the schools after they had performed a one-act play, the other judges and I asked some questions about what the students look forward to when putting on a play.  We expected to hear about the opportunity to express themselves artistically or the ability enter another world and search for truths.  However, an answer we got from one student through happy tears was that this student had found a tribe, as it were; a people who accepted any and all simply for who they were, and what they brought to the table.  The student smiled and cried, knowing that it was senior year, and these opportunities might not come up as often in the future.  We encouraged her to find it, as it's definitely and always out there.  If it isn't, make it!

I then returned home to Sheridan, where I realized again just how fortunate we are in Sheridan to have these opportunities with what seems to be more frequency than a lot of communities in this state.  

For example, this week, I conducted auditions for the upcoming WYO/CTG co-production of a stage adaptation of Stephen King's "Misery," and got to see some incredibly dedicated theatre artists of all skill levels putting their hearts on the line.

Meanwhile, I keep getting emails directed to me in my capacity as the President of the Civic Theatre Guild board, about the production of "A Christmas Carol: A Live Radio Play," and the many levels of logistics that happen behind the scenes to make sure a production like that has everything it needs, including an audience!  And we had to grumble just a bit that our audiences weren't as big as they could have been for our opening weekend.  But that grumbling was with a grain of salt, because one of the biggest draws away from our show was the San Diego Ballet's production of "The Nutcracker," which involved many many young dancers and actors from the community, all of whom have now had experience working alongside a professional traveling production company.  We couldn't have been happier to have that as our competition.

The common thread that I see in all of these companies - and the many other local companies I didn't mention that are preparing works for the upcoming season - is the camaraderie inherent in each production.  I love seeing that.  Each of these groups forms a little family that exists for just that time period, and into the future when members of these families continue to see each other, or just run into each other once in a while.  They knew that at one time, they got together to create something special and magical and inclusive and thrilling and beautiful.

To say that the arts are a luxury in Sheridan seems almost a little demeaning.  I would suggest that part of the personality of Sheridan lies deep in its need for performing arts experiences.  It's not a luxury, it's an essential element to living in this community.

It's never been said to me, but I have heard it lodged as something of a complaint in the past: "There's just too much theatre."  Frankly, Sheridan, I beg to differ.

I'll see you at intermission!

Noises Off: The Super Bowl of Farce

First of all, before you read any further, if you haven't already purchased your tickets for the 2023 WYO/CTG co-production "Noises Off," go to www.wyotheater.com immediately and get them.  Advance tickets are selling very well, and once people see this production, they WILL want to see it again and again.  Don't miss your opportunity!

That being said, the show opens next week, and I guarantee we'll be ready for you.  However, right before it opens is a period among the cast and crew of adding a lot of new technical elements that make the show even more real.  Costumes start getting tested.  Rehearsal props are exchanged for the props we'll use in the show.  Growing pains are stretched out as we go from the rehearsal space to the actual set.   Soon lighting and sound will be added, and we'll all have to adjust to the glare of the lights and how to control our voices with microphone packs and little devices on our faces.  

All of this means one undeniable thing: this thing is actually happening.  We're actually going to do this incredibly difficult play for an audience.  While often this can test an actor's faith in the health of the production, it also can be used as turbo fuel into the next phase. It kind of feels like athletes prepping for a major sporting event.

Over the last several years, I've become a fan of professional hockey in addition to being a fan of professional basketball.  Both the NHL and NBA seasons are in their playoffs, and it's been interesting to note the parallels.

An idea that I remember from my studies is the element of creating a theatre event that makes an audience have the same feeling as watching a live sporting event.  The stakes are high, lines have been drawn, and no one knows what the outcome will be.  Needless to say, tensions are high.

Where this applies in this play is just how a farce is constructed.  As I've said on my podcast several times, Comedy is about watching someone (or several someones) be given a set of potentially unbeatable circumstances and watching to see if they can set the world right again to hilarious effect; maybe they will, maybe they won't

But, as it relates to team sports, generally the audience is all cheering for the same team.  Secretly, the audience wants the actors to set the world right again, but have no idea if it will happen.  What they know is that they'll enjoy watching it, and if the actors get themselves out of their unbeatable circumstances, the effect should be similar to when your team wins!  Hoorah!

In some cases, I've actually seen audiences not just applaud and laugh, but cheer when a cast finishes a show, just like a sports crowd would when a game is won at the buzzer.

We hope that's what you find when you sit in the audience for the next two weeks at the WYO.  We'll bring our A-Game and our A-Team.  You get to sit out there and see if we win.

I'll see you at intermission!

On the Creation of a Role

Not that it’s ever really left me, but since re-catching the acting bug performing in “First Date" last spring, I have been steaming out the wrinkles on my character creation abilities, post-COVID.  For “First Date,” most of us in the cast had to play several characters, albeit each individual character was somewhat one-dimensional at best.  My new challenge is the upcoming CTG/WYO Co-Production of “Noises Off” that will be on Sophie’s Stage at the WYO this coming May.

For those of you unfamiliar, “Noises Off” by playwright Michael Frayn is a satirical look at the creation of a play, and the many personalities that can show up in a production.  It uses the playwriting tactic of a play-within-a-play that allows us to see the actors not only be characters, but people, too, and the many different amusing, and often toxic mixtures when put together in a sterile environment.  On top of all that, the play they’re doing is a fake British bedroom farce, which has its own salacious implications, all designed for patrons to have something of a clean but naughty night out.

Much like the stock characters in Commedia dell’Arte, Frayn’s play shows us a number of recognizable stereotypes as well.  There’s the once-celebrity actress who’s trying to have one last hit before she realizes she might be washed up.  There’s the blustering leading man who is brilliant on stage, but can’t put two thoughts together offstage. And many, many more.

My character, though?  I play the director.  If you have seen the 1992 film adaptation, this is the part that Michael Caine played.  So, this then becomes something of a challenge for any actor: How do I make my performance my own, and do I need to worry about the shadow cast by such a great performance in this role?  Having directed this at SHS in 2008 with high school students, I’ve been very eager to be in a production.

The creation of a role is different for every actor, and there is no one-size-fits-all methodology for creating a character.  For me, I usually start with what I bring to the role, so there is something of an honest inventory of character that needs to be run through.  When I teach acting, I ask students: “What is the one thing that is the same about every character you play?  YOU.”  Out of all the people who auditioned, the director chose me to play this specific part because he believed that my set of characteristics was the best at playing specifically this part, as was everyone else in their specific roles.

So, what do I bring to this role?  This is where I sometimes fall into a dangerous trap, as I start to think about what I CAN bring to this role as opposed to what I SHOULD bring to this role.  Our director, Dan Cole, asked me to apply a British accent to the character, which solved a lot of problems for me.  That’s because another adage that has stuck with me throughout the years is this: “Everything you need to know about your character is in the script.”  This is also problematic for me, because sometimes there are things in the script I don’t understand, so I have to go look them up.

Here’s what I knew about Lloyd. He’s British (due to director’s choice). He has a reputation for the quality of his shows, since as soon as this play is on its feet, he already has another job lined up.  Plus, this is a British professional touring company, so Lloyd is no amateur.  But, if things were to go wrong with this one, his stance as a credible director could affect his future employment.  Now, I can’t directly relate to much of that, but that’s the whole thing about acting isn’t it?  We’re imagining.  That’s basically what the great Stanislavsky taught us with the Magic ‘if:’ “What if I was this person in these circumstances?  How would I behave?”

To me, those elements about Lloyd were all I had to know.  Going into our first rehearsals, with all that in mind, I had some great ideas to play off my stage partners and really dig into this role.  However, I have found that those fundamentals were really all I needed.  At the end of the day, a British bedroom farce is a well-constructed recipe, and if it’s not done just right, it really leaves a bad taste in the audience’s mouth.  So, my Lloyd is now someone with those fundamental characteristics, but I realized that he’s simply trying to keep the lid on the pot, while everyone else is determined to blow it off.  That’s the joke, as one of my fellow actors says several times.

And, somewhere in there, yes, we learn all those lines.

I hope to see you in the audience in May, and I’ll see you at intermission (or rather for this production, at the Stage Door.) 

A Good Quarter

  It’s been a good quarter for Trident Theatre ... and the child in me says, “Gross,” to the fact that I made that statement. I struggled with exactly how to word that, since I don’t really consider myself much of a business person, but I needed to more accurately describe the recent months I’ve had doing theatre or theatrical events in Sheridan. Period? No ... “the last little while?” No .... 4 month of the year equals a quarter? Okay, I guess so. A quarter it is, then. And, it HAS been a great one.

I personally reserve Christmas as a day to be thankful for what I have that makes my life special, rather than what is being added to it from under a tree. Make no mistake, I enjoy that, too. But, I often find myself around my loved ones just taking a day to enjoy them, all our own little traditions, possibly making new traditions, and just taking stock of the positive in my inventory.

2022 was a pretty rough year again (how did we survive 2020? Or 2021 for that matter?), and not to get too personal, it was especially tough for me. I had a lot of loss this year, and I don’t know if I still fully realize the impact it had on my creativity. But, I knew that something felt off.

So, to counteract that, I’m so glad for the opportunities I’ve had to drag me out of that slump that gave Trident some good direction.

In October, Trident hosted Full Moon Fort at Fort Phil Kearney, in which we stripped down the story to its grisly core, and focused more specifically on the terror that was life at the fort. Each tour culminated in an actual campfire story recounting the Fetterman Battle, and all the fear-inducing and gory details therein. This helped me so much in that it reminded me that fundamentally what we are as theatre artists are storytellers. Frankly, it helped me begin to build my creativity again from the ground

 up. During the drive home after the event concluded, my frequent Trident co- collaborator, Jenni Reed and I were awash with new ideas.

Also in October, Trident presented “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” at the WYO, for its second year on the MainStage. This was the 10th time in a row it has been performed annually in Sheridan, my 6th time directly involved, and my 2nd time directing. Recently, I was the guest on The History of European Theatre podcast, in which the host asked me why we keep doing it annually, which actually tied into the topic for that show. I responded that this year’s production solidified just what theatre meant to the audience, and how that experience was something for them to look forward to every year, much in the same way I look at Christmas. We can be around people who are looking out for us, enjoying the same things we enjoy. It just happens to be around a campy sci-fi burlesque romp. That episode drops on Dec. 24th by the way, wherever you get your podcasts.

But, speaking of podcasts, I’m reminded that I just released episode 50 of my podcast, “Euripides, Eumenides: A Theatre History Podcast.” This project has been an absolute labor of love, and I don’t see anything that will prevent me from continuing. The fact that I still have a returning audience after 2 years of researching, writing, recording, editing, and publishing episodes helps me remember that maybe I do have something unique to offer this world, something that people want to consume. As artists, we often doubt that. So, it’s good to know that I still have something to contribute.

Here’s to hoping 2023 will be just as profitable, even if I only present work in one quarter of the year.

 I’ll see you at intermission!

A Wide Range

    In the middle of a rehearsal on a Sunday evening, my mother texted me to update me

about the Kansas City Chiefs game she was watching, and how exciting it was. I texted her

once I was done with rehearsal to let her know I was done, and that I didn't respond right away

because I was in rehearsal. She responded, "... that's a bit of a shift, huh?"

    She was referring to the fact that I just got out of a rehearsal for this year's production

of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," but for the previous two nights, Trident Theatre led the

storytelling tours at Fort Phil Kearny for their "Full Moon Fort" event. Quite the shift indeed.

    While this year's Full Moon Fort tours told the story of the Fetterman Battle with intense

description of life in the post-civil war frontier and frozen and mutilated bodies, the tours were

nonetheless intended for a more general audience (although families were warned that ONLY

the first tours of the evening would be scaled down for kids to enjoy). So jumping from a

detailed theatrical retelling of history to a niche cult classic with strong sexual themes told in a

hilarious campy format ... perhaps my mother was surprised I didn't get whiplash.

    At the time she said it, I guess I didn't think much of it, other than counting my lucky

stars that I was able to land two great theatre gigs in one season. But, once she said it, my

introspective gears started turning. On one hand, being the head of a theatre production

company allows for the sovereignty to choose projects that would be interesting to pursue. On

the other hand, it's hard to turn down a job.

    But, upon reflection, I think it's an absolutely wise thing for artists to be able to have a

breadth of diversity to their product. For the photographer, it must have been quite the shock

to switch from film to digital, to not actually need a darkroom anymore, and just how that

change made photographers view the world. And still, there are photographers who still prefer

film over digital, but again, I think it's fascinating to have such versatility within a single art

form.

    I also realize that not every show can please every audience. Try to name a play that

meets all needs. I'll debate anyone on any play, even my favorites. I know I've been guilty of

thinking, "How can anyone like THAT?" But yet they do, which I believe speaks to the diversity

of tastes that are out there. There is something for everyone.

    But all in all, I do appreciate the fact that since its inception, Trident has evolved into

something that can offer a variety of not only types of plays and productions, but also delivery

methods by which it entertains its audiences.

    For those of you who attended Full Moon Fort, I sincerely appreciate your patronage.

And, if you think it might be for you, I encourage you to give "The Rocky Horror Picture Show"

a shot. I've got a lot of high-minded reasons about why the experience is still a valuable part

of collective culture. But, you could just come and let your inhibitions loose for a night, and

have a crazy fun time. It plays ONE NIGHT ONLY on October 29, 2022 at 7p at the WYO.

Oh, and by the way, the Chiefs eventually won that game. I personally am not all that

entertained by football, but I'm glad mom has that to rely on each week.

    I'll see you at intermission! 

Theatre for Grown-Ups

  On July 29th of this year, I presented the first episode of my podcast in which the episode was recorded in front of a live audience. I was quite careful to remind potential ticket buyers that the show would most likely include adult language, and I knew the topic was going to be fairly scandalous. So, I made sure to help people understand that the show was rated "R."

While discussing this with a fellow Sheridanite one evening, he commented about the "R" Rating by simply saying: "That's good." This led to a conversation about how frequently entertainment in Sheridan is marketed as family-friendly, or otherwise non-offensive. While neither of us disparaged relatively clean entertainment, this conversation delved deeper into respecting diversity of tastes, and addressing specific entertainment needs in the community. My friend said that it was nice to know that there was something that maybe didn't have to edit itself for more mass consumption; that maybe it was okay for adults to go out and hear some dirty jokes on stage.

At this point, I could continue this tangent, in which I would probably end up soliciting people to "let their hair down," and "enjoy themselves more." But, that's not always the best thing for everyone. I think we have to remind ourselves that there is almost no stage performance that will please everyone, or be suitable to everyone. It's virtually impossible. However, on the other side of that coin, we do have to understand that there are a variety of entertainment needs that need to be addressed.

But, I think more than anything, its been fun to see how Sheridan has accepted a little more grown-up entertainment recently. I'm still seeing people who saw my friends and I in "First Date" in April, and they're still lighting up just talking about it. On the other hand, if you look at that show from a certain angle, it more or less forced two

 adults to air their dirty linens in public amidst a pretty heavy amount of adult language. And people loved it.

I'm reminded of Shakespeare's Puck in the closing monologue of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in response to people who may not be seeking more adult content, but accidentally find themselves in a show that contains something they find objectionable: "If we shadows have offended/ Think but this and all is mended/ That you have but slumbered here/ while these visions did appear ..." Mainly to say, what you just saw on stage wasn't really real. So maybe try not to take it too hard.

In that vein, I guess I'm one theatre artist who doesn't mind telling a few naughty jokes and doing more prurient stuff on stage, just as long as people have a good time. I guess I'll just keep serving that need a little bit, since people are happily buying tickets for these shows.

Speaking of which, don't forget - The WYO and Trident Theatre will be partnering up again around Halloween to present "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." It was an amazing time last year, with a big crowd. This year, let's make it even bigger! If you're interested in getting involved, just drop me a line at trident@tridenttheatre.com!

I'll see you at intermission!

 

Burned-Over

 In a few episodes of my podcast, "Euripides, Eumenides: A Theatre History Podcast," I talk about the "Burned-Over District" of upstate New York in the first half of the 1800s.  This is in reference to the fact that virtually everyone in that region had firmly committed themselves to a religious institution.  So, anyone trying to recruit new members to a church didn't have a lot of luck there.  At times, being the host of a podcast that isn't even two years old yet, I can empathize with those ministers looking for new parishioners in the "Burned-Over" District.

One thing you learn pretty quickly in the podcasting game is that you have to find your audience.  A statistic I heard earlier this year is that 99% of people polled watch videos on YouTube, whereas only 36% of people listen to podcasts.  But, those who do listen to podcasts consume them voraciously.  So, it's basically a matter of putting your show in front of people who would find the content interesting, and they'll devour it.  While I've been fairly successful with that - I do love seeing how many countries my episodes get played in - I want to give myself even more of a challenge, and try to convert that other 64% of people who don't listen to podcasts.

I've learned a lot about what listeners like as far as podcasts are concerned, which make it easy for first-time listeners to engage.  I've learned the pace that will keep an audience listening.  My episodes generally range from about 45-75 minutes in length, and I consistently release them every two weeks on Wednesdays.  A new episode will be out this Wednesday, in fact.

But, in order to get new listeners, fresh tactics become necessary.  So, I'm taking another approach this summer.  At the end of July, I'll be recording a live episode of my podcast at the WYO Performing Arts and Education Center.

Here are somethings you can expect:

You don't need to be an expert in theatre.  I make my shows quite accessible.  More than anything, you need to be someone who loves to hear juicy gossipy stories, or just truly baffling "oh wow" stories.  The ones I tell just all happen to be about theatre history.

Often, my shows are a little more grown-up in nature.  So, they may not be the best for kids.  For those of you who saw me and my colleagues in "First Date," it's more like that: some good adult humor.  We'll probably have some adult language and talking about adult things.  So again - probably best to consider it rated "R," or "E," for the podcast lovers out there.

We'll probably also have drinks for the show, so if that isn't incentive....

PLUS!!  By purchasing a ticket, you could have the chance to win 1 of 4 gift cards to Frackelton's, valued at $50 each!  I'd like to here and publicly now thank Frackelton's for sponsoring the show in this way!

My guests for this episode will be Photojournalist Matt Gaston from The Sheridan Press and past guest and Theatre Instructor Dustin Hebert from Casper, Wyoming.

Finally, if you've listened to my show before, you know that I don't tell my guests what topic we'll be discussing for the episode.  So, just to keep your curiosity bubbling, I won't tell you either.  But, I will tell you that it's a story from recent theatre history, you'll most definitely be familiar with the people involved, and that I giggle and blush a bit every time I think about it.

So, that's it!  A live episode of "Euripides, Eumenides: A Theatre History Podcast" will be at the WYO Performing Arts and Education Center on Friday, July 29.  Tickets will be available soon.

I'll see you at intermission ... or after the show in this case!

Silver Linings

"You've no dough, so relax. / You don't have to pay an income tax."

"When your car runs out of gas, then no red lights can you pass!"

These are some of the lyrics from the song "Sunny Side to Every Situation," from the Musical "42nd St." This show played a huge part in my development as an actor, and I keep getting struck with epiphanies from its words even decades after I was in it.

I'll give you a little set up.  The play takes place in the Great Depression, and the lyrics above are sung by a company of actors and dancers who have just found out that the play they were getting ready to take to Broadway has been cancelled.  Thus, they are all now unemployed in an absolutely dismal job market.

But, they take the time to remind themselves of what they actually still have going for them with the song "Sunny Side to Every Situation."  Not that their fortunes changed all that much, but they at least feel better about their current circumstances.

I'm thinking of this song while writing this, as I'm in the cast for the WYO/CTG's co-production of "First Date," which opens April 8th in the Mars Theater at the WYO.  When I was contacted by the directors to come audition, I didn't really know the play.  It took me about 10 minutes of listening to some of the songs to say, "Absolutely yes - I will audition."

I made my decision based on just what the play is reminding us.  Even earlier in my development as an actor and theatre artist, I was told that theatre must be for the community in which it is being performed, meaning it must relate to them, or connect them with something beautiful in this world, and here "beautiful" can have a multitude of definitions.  Overall, the theatre must connect an audience with feelings they haven't felt in a while, and get a chance to exercise them.

I know we're probably all tired of hearing about the pandemic.  Those of us who got through it fought some pretty tough battles, and the world often looked pretty bleak.  I would suggest that for the better part of two years, we all got to experience just about as many negative feelings as we can.  Not that I'm suggesting that we aren't still feeling those now that the surge of the pandemic has subsided.  But rather, I'm saying now that it has, and we can start living in a post-COVID world, we get a chance to take stock of what we DIDN'T lose during the pandemic.

Here's some feelings you may have forgotten: the anxiety of meeting someone for the first time, with the mutual intent of determining the feasibility of being life partners, all determined over this initial meal or drink.  The flashes of terror as red flags start to wave, and at any moment it could all end in disaster!

I'll also remind you of what humor is on stage: it's pain happening to someone else at that exact moment.  It's the pain of being insufferably human against a personal expectation of perfection. It's watching the groom's pants fall down on his wedding day.  It's the bucket of water poured over someone else's head.  Or, it's watching two people stumble through a blind date.

Without spoiling too much, there isn't too much heavy with "First Date."  It's a fun night to leave the kids at home and have some good grown-up comedy.  But, deeper than that, it's just the kind of show we need right now.  We need to be reminded that somewhere deep in us, we have things we didn't lose during COVID, things that weren't necessarily altered by COVID.  We do have delight and joy, and we get to come into contact with them again.  So, I invite you to come share a date with us, and go home sufficiently connected with things you thought might be gone ... but they're not.

I'll see you at intermission (just kidding, we don't have an intermission for this show)!

Year in Review 2021

        On January 27, 2021, I published the first episode of "Euripides, Eumenides: A Theatre

History Podcast." I pledged to do a new episode every two weeks, and on January 12, 2022, I

published by 26th episode, which effectively ends my first year in the podcast game. It's been

quite a journey, and one I'm happy to still be taking.

        For the past several years, I've touted shows I've been a part of, or shows that I have

coming up, and I will do that in some of the paragraphs below. I've waxed on a wide range of

topics that all relate back to not only the global theatre situation, but also to how the art is

presented in Sheridan. Again, we are so blessed to have a thriving arts community here, and

it's wonderful to see how it grows and develops.

        The past couple years ... do I even need to say anything about how strange or difficult

they were? So much of our society was challenged by something that seemed impossible to

prevent, and we all just wanted things to resemble some sort of "normalcy." Unfortunately, we

can't pick the times in which we live, we just have to figure out how to maneuver our lives

through the circumstances.

        But, that takes a toll; mentally, physically, emotionally, and socially. There is a reason

people would just rather erase 2020 and 2021 from our collective memories. And, I'm not sure

that we're out of the woods just yet.

        So, in my estimation, there has been a general malaise. Not just in Sheridan, but

everywhere.

        In a webinar I recently attended about podcasting and growing my personal brand, it

was suggested to take an inventory, meaning that each show has certain elements that make it

unique in the business. These should be the selling points. So, here's my inventory for the

year, and these will be the finer points that Trident Theatre plans to focus on until we can

determine that this malaise has subsided.

        Frankly, I believe we need the performing arts to connect us to beauty again, which can

take many forms. But, what I mean by this is that we need to help people find joy again.

        Let me see if I can explain. I'm currently re-watching the HBO series "Westworld," as I

never finished upon initial viewing. For those of you that haven't seen it, I'm not so sure that

the superficial meaning of the word "beauty" could apply. The show is quite dark, quite

gruesome at times, and manages to cram in deep existential thoughts to ponder on long after

an episode is complete. There is very little that is pretty or warm about that show. But, the

beauty I refer to is the impressiveness of the writing, the scale of the production, and the power

inherent in the acting. There is just a lot to admire. So, when the credits roll, I have gone on an

hour-long journey that left me feeling more enriched than when I started, which makes me

happy.

        Now, Trident is not planning to launch anything near the scale of "Westworld." But,

what I can say is that the productions that Trident has been involved with the last year have

helped remind its audiences what is good and right and self-affirming; helping the audiences to

see that in a world of dark, there is still light. Our team-up with the WYO Theater for the

"Rocky Horror Picture Show" got people to feel comfortable in their own skins, and be around

people who felt likewise. I was involved with Aspen Grove Music Studio's "All Together Now,"

which reminded people just how much connection we have on a global scale, rather than

feeling isolated during a time in which many are feeling despair. And, the podcast - if you

haven't enjoyed it yet, there's still time - brings joy and laughter to a subject that, as I say in the

intro to each episode, "... could be considered rather dry and stuffy."

        Frankly, Trident is focusing on the positive. Feel free to join us.

        I'll see you at intermission!

The Touchy-Feely Side of "Rocky Horror"

            It’s the genuine hope of the WYO and Trident Theatre to present “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” on an annual basis.  Our production goes up tonight, and each year presents new and amazing challenges.

I’ve been involved with the production for several years now, and the show is in its ninth year running in Sheridan!  But this is the first time I’ve ever directed it, and I’m proud to do so on the main stage of the WYO, the nexus of performing arts in Sheridan.

While “Rocky Horror” is a staple piece for the LBGTQ+ community, there is so much for anyone to appreciate within such a show.  Of course, there is the dressing up, the audience interaction that truly breaks the fourth wall, the props, the dancing and signing; all of which are required to have the full “Rocky” experience.  And, if you’ve had a good time, then most of the work we did behind the scenes won’t leave too much of a trace.  But, since I’m talking about it, let me give you a “behind-the-scenes” look.

As many of you know, this show is quite sexual in nature, and many patrons may not realize just how much personal work can go into being somewhat intimate on stage.  It can be even more difficult for an actor to be as generous with their sexuality that this show requires.  In the past in the acting world, it was just expected that an actor gets onstage and does what is written on the page for them to say or do with very little question about how the content will affect them personally.  For many, performing such actions could unlock unfortunate past traumas associated with acts such as kissing or cuddling or even dancing provocatively.

Thus, we employed intimacy training and choreography, which is a big thing in the theatre world right now.  At the beginning of every rehearsal we would conduct personal body and emotional “check-ins,” an honest audit of sorts.  Sometimes, someone might say, “My shoulders are off limits tonight,” or, “I’m having a difficult mental health day.”  Knowing that we still had to deliver the content on the page while still keeping each other safe, this group maintained much more professionalism than I have seen in many productions I have been involved with before.  If any body restrictions came up, we would ask what could be appropriate, and honest answers came out with positivity, such as, “Instead of putting your hand on my shoulders, how about my hips?”  All parties would agree, and we’d move on.  If someone would be having difficulties with mental or emotional health, a bevy of therapeutic solutions would be offered and would require consent from the actor before proceeding.  It’s really been something.

I don’t think we could have had such openness as a group without the suggestion of one of our actors early in the process.  It was suggested that, since we would have to be so open with our bodies, we should be open with our emotions as individuals, too.  Therefore, we sat down and each gave a personal reason as to why we wanted to be part of this production.  Once we started sharing, it became clear that everyone needed this show to be part of their lives right now.  Some were getting over stage fright.  Some were answering very personal questions about themselves.  Some planned to use this show to help heal psychological wounds.  Knowing that, each of us gained such profound respect for each other that we’re going to have a hard time letting this go.

So, yes, this show still has all the makeup and glitter and fishnet stockings and corsets and feather boas and sexual freedom that “Rocky Horror” fans have come to expect over the years.  But just know that for us, this means something a little more, and we’re going to give our all.

But, if all goes according to plan, we’ll be back at it next year.

I’ll see you at intermission!

Theatre On-Demand

It's been a pretty exciting time on my Instagram feed in the past couple weeks as Broadway shows have been rolling out their re-opening dates for a post-pandemic New York City.  Most of them are looking at opening in the fall or winter 2021, and I've seen a lot of people on social media buying tickets to their favorites.  This is the moment I've been anticipating: the moment when we start to figure out what the world will look like after over a year in relative isolation.

But for those of us who can't necessarily afford to see all these new shows, what's in it for us?

On my podcast, "Euripides, Eumenides," the subject of streaming rights to live performance has frequently come up in conversation.  Before the pandemic, rights to record video of a live performance such as theatre were strictly prohibited.  There were only granted under either very special circumstances, or if additional fees were paid.  In my understanding, as far as the theatre is concerned, this was to ensure that the only way to see a performance would be to pay for it.  While this wouldn't affect smaller markets as much, this definitely would affect larger markets such as Broadway.  But also, Broadway shows usually have something bigger in store for audiences.  For example, while it would be incredible, it's probably not likely that I'll be able to convince someone like Hugh Jackman to appear in a musical in Sheridan, Wyoming.  So, by limiting performances to be solely for a live audience, buzz can generate, and more tickets can be sold. 

However, maybe we don't live in that world anymore.  I wouldn't go so far as to suggest that we've gotten accustomed to preferring our live events to be streamed to our living rooms or mobile devices.  But, it could be another method of allowing access to people who might not otherwise be able to attend EVERYTHING.

One of my recent guests on the podcast teaches theatre at a high school in Wyoming.  During the pandemic, he found out rather quickly that while Broadway and most regional theaters were shut down, playwrights and publishing houses were almost desperate to have any of their productions staged.  So they quite willingly allowed streaming rights to be available.

Now, it's a pretty common thing to see an option for streaming rights when requesting  rights to perform a play.  And, I hope that trend doesn't go away.  This same theatre teacher  I mentioned earlier stated that streaming rights would make professional theatre productions available to his students who simply do not have the means to travel far out of town, much less afford to see them live.

Another recent guest - who is a major producer in London - opined that while streaming   performance should not be a replacement for live theatre, it definitely should be a component of it going forward.  There are a lot of students who formally studied theatre during the pandemic, and saw it provide them opportunities to connect with audiences on a much grander scale than just within their individual communities.  They now have the opportunity to change the industry for the better.

Of the many episodes of my podcast I have done, only one of them has been in person thus far.  All the rest have been via Zoom.  But this has allowed me to have guests from virtually anywhere, and thus to reach an audience in several different countries.  Frankly, I just don't see much of an argument for this part of show business to "go back to normal."  I've been saying it here and elsewhere: I'm not sure if that "normal" exists anymore.  But what does exist in its place is an opportunity to evolve, and that is honestly quite exciting.

Please feel free to listen to my podcast "Euripides, Eumenides" on any major podcast provider.  I've also got links to many of them on the Trident Theatre website: tridenttheatre.com/euripides-eumenides/.

I'll see you at intermission!

Beyond the Horizon

 So ... now what?

The governor has lifted the restrictions on theaters so that performing arts venues can fully operate again.  While the virus hasn’t totally gone away, the numbers do indicate that we can probably start to look towards relief soon.

But, I keep hearing the phrase “back to normal,” and I actually don’t understand what that means.  Effectively, the entire world has faced this pandemic in different ways, but I think we can easily say that the last year has been a transformative one.

I just got done recording a new episode for my podcast “Euripides, Eumenides.”  (If you haven’t begun to listen, feel free!  We’ve got several episodes out now!)  However, after recording the episode, my guest and I talked for a long time afterwards about what the arts might look like in a world where society was forced to live in relative seclusion for an extended period?  What really has this done to us?  Because we are not the same people we were a year ago.

I think about how the jazz age of the 1920s can be linked directly to the Spanish flu pandemic a century ago.  The artistic expressions that gained popularity were those that would allow people to appreciate the life they’re living, and that there is no guarantee of that life in the first place.

One of my recent guests on Euripides, Eumenides put it this way: “A renaissance always follows a plague.”  So, what will our renaissance look like?

I think it’s safe to say that 2020 was one of the most tumultuous years in recent memory, particularly from a sociological perspective. Division ran rampant, and it seemed as though rather than look for solutions and opportunities to ask questions of those we don’t agree with, we seemed to be more content to dig in our heels and remain firm in our own personal stances, ultimately staying divided.

This year, the Sheridan Civic Theatre Guild has scheduled me to direct a play.  I have sometimes been that stage provocateur who likes to use the forum to help us as a community raise and examine some difficult questions about society.  Sure, we can add some gags and things for fun, but I would like to have you stroke your chin a bit after my shows.

I knew I was going to be directing last summer, and I had picked a play that would have addressed a fairly sensitive social issue.  But, now that we have left 2020 behind us, I was asked if this was really the right thing to be doing now.  And I agreed that maybe rather than show us another element of society that drives a wedge between us, perhaps it would be better to help us grow together as a people again.

So, my next project for the stage is to be a radio play adaptation of the OLD, OLD Hitchcock film “The 39 Steps,” an espionage thriller that ends relatively peacefully.  I have intended for this to be a streaming opportunity that can be enjoyed at home.  But, as Bob Dylan so eloquently stated, “Times are a-changin’.”  I still plan to do this play, but it might look a little different than the version I intended for a more secluded world.

A friend of mine who teaches theatre at a college recently imparted these words on social media.  They come from a new biography of the stage and screen director Mike Nichols: “I passionately believe that in art, and certainly in the theatre, there are only two questions ... The first questions is “What is this, really, when it happens in life?”  Not what is the accepted convention ... but what is it really like?  And the other question we really have to ask is, “What happens next?”

We’re there, Mike.  We’re there.  What is going to happen next?

I’ll see you at intermission!

Trident Dabbles in Podcasting

       Due to this once-a-century pandemic, performing artists have had to completely re-imagine what live performances mean, or if live performance could even happen without jeopardizing the safety of everyone involved.  Frankly, depending on whether or not life can return to something resembling normalcy anytime soon, this is the status quo: if we don’t reinvent the wheel right now, what else can we do?

    For Trident, reinventing the wheel means figuring out how this pandemic is affecting the theatre community at large, and reminding it that it is a community.  Everyday on Twitter, I read the laments of understanding theatre artists who see the reason why most performance venues are shut down, but miss the times that were, and the sense of belonging to a group of people with whom they shared a somewhat transcendent connection.  Cue the musketeers: “One for all, and all for one!”

    Therefore, I’ve chosen to begin a podcast.  The main topic will be theatre history, more specifically some of the unusual stories and absurd nuances that have enraptured me or that have made me shake my head.  But all have made theatre my lifelong study and chosen practice.

    For each episode, I speak with a guest who I have met through my many years of study and work in theatre.  Some of these guests are local, but many are far away from Sheridan.  Overall, the fact that we have a few common connectors does in a way show that we are all in this together.  We are all affected by this, and we can all make something of it.

    The title of the podcast is the punchline of the favorite joke told my old college theatre instructor, Tom Empey. Besides being the most influential theatre mentor I had, Tom instilled in me such deep love and respect for the art, and at the same time the ability to acknowledge and enjoy some of the oddball turns that the art has made in its evolution.  Tom died in 2016, and I credit most of my successes to him. He was a great man.

    When teaching Ancient Greek Theatre, amongst the glossary of terms to know are the influential tragic playwright Euripides (sounded out: you-RIP-a-deez), and the tragedy by Aeschylus titled The Eumenides (sounded out: you-MEN-a-deez).  After thoroughly explaining the significant impact of the two terms in a very stoic and scholarly manner, Tom would look at us and pinch the fabric of his slacks by his knee.  He’d say, “You see these pants?  Euripides, Eumenides.”  The term “dad joke” doesn’t even begin to cover it.  Nonetheless, a moment of levity was achieved in the midst of what could be otherwise considered fairly dry material.

    That’s precisely what I mean to do with my podcast: Euripides, Eumenides. I mean to inject just a little more humor into the world today as I discuss bizarre and often hilarious stories from the history of theatre with a friend who has no prior knowledge of what will be discussed in the episode.  This way, with the element of surprise, the guest has the opportunity to react more honestly, much as we are challenged to do with a role we would take onstage.  

    Even if you’re not a student of theatre history, these stories and the interactions with my guests give some light to our somewhat bleak current circumstances.  Even with the promise of a vaccine, we may still be in this for the long haul.  So, feel free to laugh a little, and possibly learn some things about why we, as the theatre community, keep practicing this art.

    I’ve already got a few episodes done, and I plan to make them available in the new year on all major podcast providers.  If you want to know more information, I’m always happy to hear from you!  Feel free to write me: trident@tridenttheatre.com

    I’ll see you at intermission (when we can have one of those again, that is)!

Rediscovery Version 2.0

 

Rediscovery, Take 2

This past spring, my time ended as the full-time Theatre Instructor at Sheridan College.  The position was always interim, which by definition, is unfortunately finite. 

At this point, I must publicly thank my faculty partner Stephanie Koltiska for all her support, engagement, and positive collaboration.  We did great big things together and I wouldn’t have made it through the last two years without her, the angel on my shoulder.  She’s going to continue doing some amazing things for that college and her students, and if you invest in Stephanie and her program, you’ll be proud that you did.  She’s a gem, folks.

Transition always allows the opportunity to reflect.  But moments of nostalgia and self-evaluation should be similar to the interim nature of my Theatre Instructor position: finite.  So, now that that chapter in my life is over, I’m wondering what some of you might be wondering: what am I going to do next.  Well, I’ve got some ideas brewing.

The lockdown earlier this year and the following months have allowed me the opportunity to recharge my creative batteries, as they were nearly spent.  In that recharge, I reminded myself what truly matters to me about the delivery of my artistic product.  

A mentor of mine once told me that theatre must be for the community in which it is delivered, otherwise the message doesn’t land.  Allow me to translate.  One of the original purposes of theatre that has maintained its presence throughout theatre history is to allow the audience the chance to view itself in a controlled format in order to correct any damaging practices.  If theatre doesn’t engage, sustain, progress, or challenge a community (yes, challenge – but much as an instructor would challenge a student to learn), then the art form may not have a purpose in the community.  I wholeheartedly believe that theatre has a place in this community.  Your consistent patronage has shown me that, Sheridan.  So, I look forward to developing a theatre product directed at you ... and beyond

I looked back at the mission and vision statements for my production company, Trident Theatre.  Feel free to go look at them as well at tridenttheatre.com.  Despite not devoting myself to the development of my brand for the past two years, my mission and vision statements remain true.  Trident “strives to … [remain] progressive and relevant in the creation of its product…” and “… connect audiences to theatrical experiences on a visceral level that demand conversation long after the theatrical event is over.”

So, what does this mean?  The theatrical community as a whole has also taken a punch.  At this time, Broadway theaters are closed until at least January, and I’d be surprised if the Great White Way opens even then, and thousands of other theatrical communities throughout the world are facing similar challenges.  So, what is the future of live performance?

I’m looking at several options for myself and Trident.  I’m currently working on several productions for the Sheridan area.  I’m also looking to expand the “community” with podcasts, and I hope to launch my own after Thanksgiving.  I’m working on models for acting lessons, and for consultation for dramatic experiences.  Mainly, the goal is to connect people to those “visceral experiences” I tout in my mission statement, and to help theatre evolve to a point where it is safe for COVID times and beyond, and relevant to the time in which it is presented.

If you'd like to know more, how you can get involved, or just would like to connect, Trident has platforms on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, or you can just write me at trident@tridenttheatre.com.  I'd love to hear from you!

I’ll see you at intermission!

** This post was originally written in May 2020.  Feel free to read through prior blog entries to find the original!**

Rediscovery

Rediscovery

This past week marked my final week as the full-time Theatre Instructor at Sheridan College for the foreseeable future.  The position was always interim, which by definition, is unfortunately finite.  I consider it a privilege to have worked for the division of Visual and Performing Arts in the capacity that I did, and I’m not entirely vanishing from the department in the future.  I get to teach a class this fall with a lot of the students I recruited; a great group of hungry minds. 

At this point, I must publicly thank my faculty partner Stephanie Koltiska for all her support, engagement, and positive collaboration.  We did great big things together and I wouldn’t have made it through the last two years without her, the angel on my shoulder.  She’s a gem, folks.

Transition always allows the opportunity to reflect.  As I look back on the last two years of work, under fast-paced conditions in which long-term planning almost didn’t exist, I had my successes, to greater or lesser degrees.  Within that time, I directed more plays than any other time in my life.  Some of them came together weeks before opening, some of them came together mere hours before opening.  The students grew and adapted to new concepts, and faced introspective challenges, as should happen in college. 

For me, I learned just how much I could do in a two-year long title fight, and in this case my opponent was my own ambition.  My ambition allowed me to take a punch or two, but give them back just as hard or harder.  Some of them were knockout blows, and some of them were well-timed surprise hits that managed to increase my stamina over time.  In this quarantine, I’ve developed a rekindled love for the sweet science.  I’m prone to metaphor, as you may have noticed from prior entries. I appreciate your indulgence.

But moments of nostalgia and self-evaluation should be similar to the interim nature of my Theatre Instructor position: finite.  And, as I mentioned earlier, I didn’t have a lot of time for long-term planning.  At this point, I’m wondering what some of you might be wondering: what am I going to do next.  To be honest with you, I’m not quite sure yet.  But I’ve got some ideas brewing.

This period of lockdown has allowed me the opportunity to recharge my creative batteries, as they were nearly spent.  In that recharge, I reminded myself what truly matters to me about the delivery of my artistic product.  A mentor of mine once told me that theatre must be for the community in which it is delivered, otherwise the message doesn’t land.  Allow me to translate.  One of the original purposes of theatre that has maintained its presence throughout theatre history is to allow the audience the chance to view itself in a controlled format in order to correct any damaging practices.  If theatre doesn’t engage, sustain, progress, or challenge a community (yes, challenge – but much as an instructor would challenge a student to learn), then the art form may not have a purpose in the community.  I wholeheartedly believe that theatre has a place in this community.  Your consistent patronage has shown me that, Sheridan.  So, I look forward to developing a theatre product directed at you. 

I looked back at the mission and vision statements for my production company, Trident Theatre.  Feel free to go look at them as well at tridenttheatre.com.  The rest of the site could use some updating, but hey – I’ve been a tad busy the past couple years.  Moreover, my mission and vision statements remain true.  Trident “strives to … [remain] progressive and relevant in the creation of its product…” and “… connect audiences to theatrical experiences on a visceral level that demand conversation long after the theatrical event is over.”

So, what does this mean?  I will remain committed to creating theatre projects that are relevant and relatable to this community.  How will I deliver that?  Not sure yet.  But, here are some idea floating around in my head: new plays (or maybe older) that address the current human condition, classes or forums on film and theatre styles, possibly acting lessons for students and adults (this stuff is useful both on and off stage – I promise), and experiences that allow us to appreciate our collective culture.  Sounds ambitious right?  Well, to be honest, the bell has rung and I’m still in my corner recovering from the last round.  But, you should see the other guy.
If you'd like to know more, how you can get involved, or just would like to connect, Trident has platforms on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, or you can just write me at trident@tridenttheatre.com.  I'd love to hear from you!

I’ll see you at intermission!

The Necessity(?) of Ritual in Theatre

Nearly this time last year, I used this column to ponder the fact that plays can have universal themes throughout history, and thus maintain the true definition of the term “classic.”  This year, classes begin next week, and I approach the year with a new academic puzzle to ponder: the pitfalls and epiphanies inherent in explaining to present-day college students that theatre was linked to religious ritual for the vast majority of its lifetime.

For the purposes of this column, I’d like to take a moment to define the term “ritual.” Certainly the theatre has certain patterns that are performed in something of a repetitive manner upon each visit.  For example, we understand that when the lights go out, it is time to pay respect to the action on stage.  Some people prefer to dress up for theatre; in my experience this has actually prevented people from attending, as they don’t feel they “have clothes for that kind of thing.”

No, for this column, I’m suggesting that ritual actions performed by audience and artist alike that not only happen often, but have significance; a significance that transcends physical state, that is communal and irreversible.  Actions that are performed for the betterment of the soul.

From Ancient Greece through the Middle Ages, the western world intertwined religion and theatre.  In Ancient Greece, wars would stop in honor of theatre festivals.  Beyond the desire to avoid the ire of the gods, citizens required to attend festivals would do so willingly and gladly.  Theatre cleansed the soul of the average Greek citizen, given the thorough catharsis presented in the tragedies, and the matchless levity in the comedies.  Throughout the festivals, the gods were always given their reverence.  It was understood that the reverence in these festivals would allow citizens to reap the blessings of the resultant bountiful harvests, and prosperous business dealings.

But, how do I recreate this scenario for students who live in a world where religious ritual is optional?  In the healthy breadth of diversity available to students today - which I fully endorse - how can I make students connect to something that couldn’t be further from their current experience?

This discussion came up between myself and another academic, who suggested that virtually all art is a direct response to religion.  She felt that at times throughout our history, religion has posed a restrictive element to people’s lives, a tension then relieved by artistic expression.  This could explain the number of times any art form has been associated with evil or evildoing.

But, that didn’t explain to me how ritual could have been lost along the centuries.  For the better part of the twentieth century, many theatre artists chose to attempt to explain the human condition, warts and all.  For such a complex topic, perhaps there was no time to offer a prayer to a god who no one remembered anymore anyway.

However, perhaps that isn’t necessary.  Regardless of the Greeks’ need to appease their gods with works of art, today they are used to help us analyze social ills.  They served that purpose for the Greeks, too.  But, perhaps today the ritualism is done in a different way.

I recently read an article summarizing the reports of a psychological study done in London, meant to study biorhythms of audience members.  The results were astonishing.  Evidently, when an audience views a play, the bodily rhythms of individual members often will involuntarily sync: heartbeats, breathing, you name it.  Despite having little relationship with each other, reports showed that subjects remained synced even through intermissions, and after the plays had finished.  During the event, the audience experience the same events as one entity, ignoring any sense of individual biological makeup.

So, perhaps there is something about theatre that is ritualistic simply by experiencing it.  Maybe there needs to be no reverence to any gods to feel a communal sense of the same experience.  Just attendance seems to be transcendent enough.

I’ll see you at intermission!