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!

More Than Just a “Comedy”

This weekend, Sheridan College Theatre & Dance will present “Five Women Wearing the Same Dress” by renowned screenwriter Alan Ball.  You may know that name: he won an Oscar for writing the screenplay for the film “American Beauty,” and also created the HBO series “Six Feet Under” and “True Blood.”  While not necessarily renowned for being a playwright, Ball has a talent for writing characters who wade through the mires of true love, physical intimacy and truth and deceit.

This ability to create a pantheon of characters who contend with this short, yet very complex laundry list of psychological constructs is what attracted me to this play in the first place - beyond the fact that “American Beauty” has been my favorite movie for decades.  I’ve wanted to do this play since I first read it, as I knew it would be a piece that would speak to many, and would allow the actors and audience moments of levity and honest self-reflection.  Like any seasoned director would tell you, the conditions have to be just right for such alchemy.  I firmly believe the conditions are right for such a perfect storm.

The play is about bridesmaids.  While the Oscar-nominated comedy of the name “Bridesemaids” might conjure images of over-the-top humor and abs sore from laughing, this play will also offer moments of humor, but balances them with some dark turns as well.  Through the play, we see five women who have been asked to be the bridal party for a woman who has all made them feel “less than.”  Each of them is dealing with a personal cross to bear, of which they are not necessarily embarrassed, but ... well, we all have our skeletons.  The play takes place in a bedroom of the bride’s parents house, as each of the women escapes the awkwardness of the reception, seeking refuge.  And, without spoiling too much, they find solace and unity in each other.

However, as nicely resolved as that sounds, I will suggest that not one of these characters finds resolution in the two hours’ traffic of our stage.  As Chekhov would have us wondering with any of his plays, as spectators of these events, we get the opportunity to identify with these characters, either wholly or individually, and ask ourselves some essential questions about life.  We get to see the consequences of choices made, and how they affect these characters.  Similar to the characters in Sartre’s “No Exit” (which has offered comparison many times throughout the rehearsal process), these characters are in something of a purgatory, between a choice and consequence.

I would suggest that this is precisely what our predecessors in the Greek Theatre - and those eras it inspired - had in mind for the purpose of theatre: self-reflection.  In addition, it’ll give you some laughs.  My students were lucky enough to have the Actors from the London Stage in residence last week, who said that these students have absolutely “cracking comedic timing,” and described their performances as nothing less than “extraordinary.”

“Five Women Wearing the Same Dress” is at the WYO this week; Thursday, Friday and Saturday, April 11-13 @ 7:30p, with an additional matinee on Saturday the 13th at 2p.  Tickets can be reserved at the WYO Theater Box Office.

I’ll see you at intermission!

Art is representative of its time ... I guess. ;)

As I prepare for my classes this week, I came across this little nugget, which has given me some food for thought: “As art a reflection of the society in which it was created, a playwright’s words reflect the societal viewpoints and the circumstances of the time and period when the works are first created.”  While I agree with this to an extent, I am also reminded of the idea that themes often present themselves throughout history, and therefore we get the impression that history repeats itself. While this allow plays from different eras to have similar themes, it also allows themes from different eras to be consistently relatable and give the feeling of being “present tense.”  For example, why do we see so many plays about revenge?  Perhaps because, as a people, we’ve never learned our lesson about the metaphysical destructive potential of vengeful actions ... but I’m just spitballing, here.

Really, what I wanted to convey with this column is to illustrate my fascination at how themes tend to present themselves throughout history, but can still be relatable to new generations throughout history as well.  This came to my attention last week at Sheridan College while I was teaching Theatrical Backgrounds, which is the Dramatic Literature and History course.  This year, I have one student in the course, so we meet as an independent study.

In our meeting last week, we were discussing the classic Greek Tragedy “Medea.”  As a refresher, this play is about the sorceress Medea, who is accompanies the fabled hero Jason throughout a good portion of his journey, and engineered many of his successes, mainly because of her love of him.  When he marries another woman for political gain, her heartbreak drives her to a madness that culminates in the deaths of not only Jason’s wife and father, but Medea also murders her own children herself.

In further reminder, Greek Tragic heroes - or heroines in this case - all carry a tragic flaw, which is a human misgiving that leads to the character’s downfall.  An audience watching should recognize the flaw, and hopefully learn to correct this said flaw.

So, as I discussed this with my student, we tried to identify Medea’s tragic flaw, which could be argued to be her love of Jason.  And, truly representative of her generation, my student said that Medea broke the “golden rule: never date a ****boy.”  Having an inclination of what she meant, but still showing my age, I looked the term up in the Urban Dictionary, and found this definition: “.... [a] boy who is into strictly sexual relationships; he will lead a girl on and let her down ... Boys like this will pretend to genuinely care about the girl but always fail to prove the supposed affection.”

While I laughed heartily, it pleased me beyond measure to know that a student can truly extrapolate a profound truth about her current reality and circumstances upon reading ancient texts.  Of course, upon thinking about this later, I realized that the current generation sees a story like this through these particular lenses, to the point where there is actually an unspoken code with a “golden rule” understood about such circumstances.

I think about this as I look at the world and how it is interpreted by the youngest generation of adults.  Women like Ms. Wyoming, Beck Bridger, who I worked with this summer in “Master Class;” women who have remarkable things to say, remarkable stories to tell, and profound perspectives to share.  A playwright writing in this time MUST take these perspectives into account to truly capture the voice of the time and period.

In the end, though, it’s somewhat bittersweet that ancient works can still be relevant: sweet that current readers can connect to them, and bitter that the tragic flaws have apparently not inspired better behavior in the populace.  I guess we dramatists still have our work cut out for us.

I’ll see you at intermission.

A Dream Fulfilled

Years ago, I saw a play that changed my life.  I was attending a college trip to a larger city, the goal of which was to see several professional productions in a weekend.  This was 1999, and the play was Terrence McNally’s “Master Class,” the title still freshly abuzz in the theatre world for having won the Tony Award for Best Play just three years prior.  I went in hoping that the play would live up to the hype.  I left the play, having fully experienced a word I had just learned in my theatre studies, and had come to love: “Catharsis.”  Here I am, 19 years later, fulfilling an oath I swore to myself that I would do that play someday.

“Master Class” is inspired by the series of master classes that opera legend Maria Callas taught at Juilliard in the early 1970s.  As an audience, you will get to experience what we hope will be an adequate representation of being in one of those classes.  Ambitious singers from all over the world attended these master classes, hoping to extract something of the magic that made Madame Callas arguably the most famous opera singer of all time.

I’ve assembled quite the crew for this one.  For the first of what Maria jokes are her “victims,” we have Miss Wyoming hopeful Becky Bridger, who has just spent two years enhancing her musical craft in Los Angeles.  Next is fan favorite Dan Cole; notably, we’ve seen him recently as one of the outstanding ensemble members of “The Musical of Musicals: The Musical.”  Finally, we have Trident mainstay Jennifer Reed, who many may remember from her performances in “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying,” and as one of the ensemble members of our production last summer “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) [Revised].”

But, stepping into the main role of Maria Callas (“La Divina”) is the incomparable Mary Jo Johnson.  To be honest, this is a project that Mary Jo and I have talked about for years.  Evidently, we had both had a similar experience of seeing the play, and thinking, “Ooooh ... I wanna do that.”  This is quite the role, as I would estimate about 80% of the play’s lines belong to Maria, but the role is much more intimidating than just an exercise in memory.

The real challenge of this play will be to enter Maria’s mind, which the audience actually does at a few key points in the play.  The play has something of a magic realism to it, which allows the audience to transcend the seemingly fragile film of reality, and see the inner workings of one of the greatest artists of the Twentieth Century.

For those of you intimidated by the subject of opera study, worry not.  The play is as much about opera as “Million Dollar Baby” is about boxing.

Trident will present “Master Class” at the WYO Theater during the last weekend in June, and the first weekend in July.  We hope to see you there!

And, as always, I’ll see you at intermission!

An Academic Opportunity

For the now come-and-gone holiday season, I was gifted something particularly exciting.  Most of my recent additions to this column come from my position as the artistic and managing director of Trident Theatre, but I am afforded the chance to expand beyond just that position every now and then.  This spring at Sheridan College, I will be teaching THEA 1000: Introduction to Theatre; a foundational course in theatre, open to any and all who wish to enhance her/his theatrical prowess.

On the surface, the course obviously explores the basics of theatre.  Of course, attendees can expect to gain a better understanding of the skeletal structures of how the art form has developed in America.  But, beyond that, the course offers an enhanced perspective on theatre as a collaborative effort, which can therefore amplify theatre viewing in the future.  My goal is to give you the tools to become your own armchair coach, but in the realm of theatre.

Think of it like this: when I teach to students, I usually recommend that they become a fan of a team sport, as it broadens their potential as a theatre artist.  Certainly, in every sport there are standout players, but each of those is only as successful as the team around them.  The pitcher that throws a no-hitter is only as good as the team that applies the right amount of fielding pressure. The strategic quarterback is only as good as the offensive line that leaves the opportunistic holes in the defense.  The triple-double point guard is only as good as the power forward that slams down the alley-oop pass.

In my opinion, this is the same in theatre.  While we have artists like Lin-Manuel Miranda and Sutton Foster (look those names up - they’ll certainly show up in course work this semester), those artists are only as good as the teams that help them set up their works.  I often use the following analogy when describing this concept as it relates to the stage.  Let’s say a performer is about to give the most inspirational or heartbreaking or gut-wrenching monologue or song, and that performance will define the art form for the next generation.  This performer only has one shot at perfecting this, and the time is now.  But, imagine that the light board operator didn’t turn on the lights at the right time.  Or, imagine that a stage hand didn’t open the curtain at the correct moment.  Or, imagine if the performer’s stage partner had tried to steal the show right before this moment.  In all of these instances, the influential performer is only as good as the team that helped create that opportunity, and without their contributions, the performance is not as successful.

That’s what I aim to help my students discover this semester.  Beyond just the bare bones of theatre and its history, I aim to offer my students a deeper understanding of the collaborative efforts just behind the facade of the performances seen on stage.  A look at the playbook, if you will.

The class begins on Wednesday, January 17th, and will take place every Monday and Wednesday at 5:15p on the Sheridan College Campus.  If you’re interested, please contact the college on how to proceed.  We have this extraordinary learning institution in our community, and any course is a great value for the low price you’ll pay.

Thanks for listening, and I hope to see you in class!

Something Wicked Comes ... Soon-ish

  Hello, friends of theatre!  It’s been a while since I’ve graced these pages, and a few things have happened with Trident Theatre since my most recent entry.
     First of all, I want to thank those of you that took the time to attend Trident’s first full-length production, “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) [Revised].”  I’m hoping that those of you that attended enjoy a pang or two of nostalgia from the sore cheeks and guts we may have given you during the one of the performances.  Personally, I consider the production a fantastic success, mainly in that the goal of the production was to entertain.  If nothing else, I would hope attendees would at least have a better understanding of Shakespeare in performance.

  Next, I would like to thank the Sheridan Press for my recognition as one of Sheridan’s “20 under 40.”  I feel truly honored to be amongst such a magnanimous group of individuals that all are working to make Sheridan an even better community.  

  However, I’ve often felt that being recognized for a body of work has something of a dubious pleasure to it.  While I feel grateful for the recognition, I also realize that the standard that earned the recognition is now set, and I hope I can be consistent in the delivery of my product.

  Perhaps this is on my mind now, as I am now frequently met with the same question.  After I finished with “Shakespeare,” and often when I’m seen in public now, I very often have to answer the question: “So, what’s next for Trident?”  While I could leave a preview of coming attractions here, I may only offer a teaser.  I’m working on something akin to a thriller.  

As some of you that may have been following my Trident exploits for a while, you know that one of Trident’s first projects was a classic horror film festival at the WYO.  While that may be something we’d like to repeat in the future, I want to stress again that I’m more of a casual horror film fan.  However, I do love the micro-community built around the multitude of shared experiences in a theater.  For example, during the showing of “Psycho,” there were a few moments upon experiencing an unexpected fright when virtually everyone in attendance jumped at the same time, and came down from the jump at the same time, all reacting to the high of the cocktail of activated neurotransmitters at work.

  But, in that example, the proverbial fourth wall is ever present, mainly in the fact that that reality is projected on a screen.  It is a one-way communication.  There is no direct reaction in the communication from presenter to receiver.  So, I’d like to offer the concept of “fun” tension and fear as a more personal exchange.  Simply put, I want to elicit that same level of tension with the audience in real-time, in an imitation of real life, in the only kind of 3-D that needs no extra charge to be legitimate: on the stage.

  I have a few specific projects in mind, and I don’t hesitate to suggest that all would be compelling.  And, yes - I realize that Halloween has just passed.  But, I refuse to believe that any type of feeling should be relegated to a specific time of year.  Mostly, I would hope that, in the spirit of adventure you, the Sheridan audience, would be as daring as you have been in the past, and step into a theater expecting to have fun ... but maybe a more sinister concoction of fun.

I’ll see you at intermission!

Brush up your Shakespeare/ Start quoting him now ...

“All the world’s a stage, and all the people …. Something, something…” - Me

Usually, it’s suggested to start a body of writing with a profound quotation that truly speaks to the depths of not only the subject matter, but humanity in general.  This summer my company - Trident Theatre - aims to do just that … to a greater or lesser degree, for your comedic delight.  For my first full-length production under Trident Theatre, I will be presenting “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) [Revised],” a parodic delving into the full canon of the greatest writer the English language has ever known.

For those of you that may be unfamiliar, the title of this article comes from a musical number in the classic musical comedy, “Kiss Me Kate.”  In the scene, some members of the troupe find themselves onstage in musical adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Taming of the Shrew” and have virtually no idea what’s going on.  So, they make it up as they go along, and make it seem as if they had planned to do what they did onstage from the beginning.  If I were to encapsulate the essence of the play we’ll be presenting … it would almost be exactly that.

Let me clarify: No matter when a company produces a Shakespearean play, there will almost always be an element of the production that may be lost on a contemporary audience.  It could be that the plays come from a different time period in which the manner of staging plays was quite different than today.  Most people (audiences and actors alike) hesitate to do Shakespeare because of the language barrier.  That almost always sounds funny to me, as it’s not a different language; it’s just that he knew how to use it so well.

However, I think a lot of the “lost in translation” feeling has to do with the pre-conceived notion that it almost takes an encyclopedic knowledge of history, mythology, and vocabulary in order to “get” Shakespeare.  While that may be partly true, I will remind my readers that much of Shakespeare’s canon was written for the groundlings, the uneducated and impoverished (and often majority) of Elizabethan audiences; those that could more directly appreciate the truly basic concepts of betrayal, love, murder, and inappropriate humor.  Surely, they couldn’t be better at understanding Shakespeare than a contemporary audience.

So, to set the stage for our production, the idea of performing the entirety of Shakespeare in a single sitting should come across as a tad ambitious, to say the least.  In a line taken directly from the text: “… we are about to attempt a feat that we believe to be unprecedented in the history of civilization.”  So, are we approaching the area of not only hyperbolic, but utterly improbable?  I hope you’re nodding your head.

We do mean to encapsulate the “je ne sais quoi” of the full breadth of the Shakespearean tome, but more than anything to exhibit the utter enjoyment of live theatre altogether.

Again, allow me to elaborate.  One of my favorite qualities of live theatre is not only the audience’s expectation of the “willing suspension of disbelief,” the concept that the audience will believe the “truth” of what is seen on stage for the time that the play is performed, but also the sleight of hand that goes on.  What I mean by this is that, at any time in live theatre, something could and almost always DOES go wrong, but the play turns out just fine in the end.  The pitfalls could be completely against the will of the performers, or from lack of planning, etc., etc.  But, in some way, there always seems to be an element of expectation from the audience that the production could end in a flaming pile of mess.  Not pointing any fingers, but I think we all see the potential in live performances going awry; although we may fervently hope for the opposite, we can see the possibility.

Legendary improvisational theatre icon Keith Johnstone wrote of the phenomenon of denying the audience’s expectations of failure.  In improvisational theatre, the players tell the audience the impossible situation that they set up for themselves in performance, which inspires a measure of doubt in the audience.  Therefore, this convention is almost set in reverse: the audience is anticipating the players to fail, and will be nothing short of amazed if they can get themselves out of it.  Through little more than excellent communication, and laying out new expectations and working to exceed them, the players usually can attain their goal.  If they don’t, the audience is not necessarily let down, as they expected the players to fail somewhat anyway.  But, on the other hand, if the players prevail, then the audience sees the accomplishment as nothing short of magical.

That’s what we intend to do.  We’re telling you right now that we’re going to accomplish something within an hour and a half that is, by standard definition, impossible.  The hope is that, by the end, we’ve managed to do what we set out to do (borrowing another line from the script here): “… to capture, in a single theatrical experience, the magic, the genius, the towering grandeur of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare,” … in a manner of speaking.  What we will accomplish is giving you a sore gut from laughing at us, which in this circumstance, is entirely appropriate.  It is a comedy, after all.

How?  I’ll offer a teaser: for the classic tragedy, we do “Othello” as a rap.  Trust me, not a one of us should schedule an audition for “Hamilton.”  I’ll say no more.  I want to keep that carrot dangling.

Trident will present “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) [Revised]” at the Carriage House Theatre Thursdays through Sundays August 3-13.  Please follow us on Facebook (“Trident Theatre”), Twitter (@tridenttheatre), or at our website (www.tridenttheatre.com) for further information on ticketing and showtimes.

I’ll see you at intermission!