TCG's Crisis and Chrysalis
On Changing Beliefs about Theater
A few hours ago, I woke up from a dream. I was in a health club with walls of mirrors. It may have been the locker room, but it wasn’t divided by gender. Across the room, a man was addressing me in a demeaning way. He was sexist, I told myself. Everyone in the room was watching, and they began to murmur and repeat what the man said to me. Then the man called me a whore.
I left the room and told a friendly guard at the front door what happened. He tried to “talk me through it.” I needed to prove to him or convince him what I had experienced.
Upon awakening I realized two things: 1) The dream was about theater and what I experienced there, and 2) I don’t need to repeat the stories. At this point, people either know already or will never be convinced.
So, this update will be about the stories people tell themselves. I could’ve said “we tell ourselves” but I only speak for myself. Maybe you can identify – or not.
Insiders versus Outsiders
I have a long list of stories I tell myself – especially about writing and theater, my primary artistic concern for most of my life. One of the stories is that I am a perpetual outsider.
If you’re not in US mainstream nonprofit theater, I will tell you the insider versus outsider dichotomy is extremely strong in that sphere. Being perceived as an insider gives you clout and can help with networking, getting your work read, and even entry into play development. As a perceived insider, people will listen to your ideas and take you seriously. They will be nice to you – and that’s important.
Insiders don’t have to be nice to people they perceive as outsiders. Outsiders are often labelled as “not serious,” “impractical” or “troublemakers.” People who disrupt are viewed as outsiders. Which is unfortunate because theater needs new ideas.
How important is it to be an insider? I’ll give you an example.
I applied for a development opportunity in the late 1990s. I got rejected, which was fine. Afterward, I thought it would be a good idea to learn more about the organization by volunteering for them. From what I could tell, not many people were doing that at the time. I met the person who led the nonprofit. As they were unveiling the playwrights who got the opportunity, the person turned to a few of us and said that one of them technically didn’t submit a play. He pitched an idea. But this leader loved the idea so much that he was given a space.
I walked away thinking, wow, my play got rejected for one that hadn’t been written yet.
That’s the power of the insider.
TCG’s Crisis and Chrysalis
I surprised myself by attending Theatre Communication Group’s town hall, Crisis and Chrysalis last week. A long time ago, I would’ve been too intimidated to go. In the more recent past, I would have decided it was too triggering. It would remind me of bad experiences I had. In fact, I made plans to leave quickly if I felt overwhelmed or anxious.
But I stayed for the whole thing, fascinated as always by dynamics. When I was involved with theater (as an actor, as an intern as Circle Rep, as production staff in various NYC theaters, as a playwright), I could never get a handle on the culture of American nonprofit theater because I was too close to it. After spending over 16 years in small town Alabama as a Yankee, cultural observations have become a way of life. I survive by understanding unspoken rules.
What I liked about the TCG event is that there was such a strong culture there. The town hall felt a bit like church to me – except in a good way. It was ceremonial, both in ritual and the people who were given the floor to address the group first. There was a period in the middle when someone read an artistic piece. Then, anyone in the group could address the attendees.
To me, there was a spirituality in that culture. Did it fix the problem that faces mainstream theater in the United States? No, but I’m not sure that was the point. Maybe the reason for the town hall was to gather people together and affirm the community. Yes, there was information during the town hall. No answers, no decisions. But for people who have made their lives and living in theater, the gathering could remind people they aren’t alone in their fears. Alleviating that aloneness can be incredibly healing.
The Spirit of Theater
Throughout the week, I’ve been considering the stories I told myself about theater prior to attending the event, and afterward. The idea that certain men in theater had power and status, for example, has been a huge part of my thinking for many years. I realized those men want others to think of them as gatekeepers, but they are not insiders. They have no real power. They can bully and speak with all the certainty and bluster in the world. Nope, not an insider.
I also realized how hollow a resume can be. Those men can recite all the productions, development opportunities and/or publications they want. It doesn’t make that man an insider.
They can amplify what they think will please insiders. It still doesn’t make them insiders. In fact, I would go so far as to say that their narcissism of trying to be gatekeepers is against the spirit of theater. Their claims of power and status serve themselves and only themselves. They tear down others and only build themselves and each other up. They are doing more damage than good. That’s not the spirit of theater.
The Community
TCG’s idea of bringing people together is good. What occurs to me, however, is that they didn’t talk about artists. It seemed as though they only considered the audience and the organizations.
In the system we already have, artists are only a part of the community on a contingency basis. You like my play, you allow me into your event. You don’t like my play, you speak to me in a completely different way.
The system in place now hurts artists. It makes us not a part of your community. If you look at it, people get involved with theater so they can be a part of things. This weird idea that we’re all products and not people is painful. It creates bad feelings and anger. If you want things to change, artists must be a part of your community – a real part. When you see anger coming from artists, I think it’s because a) some of us feel as though you let us down and b) we’re worthy of respect. We are worthy of community.
I know theater strives for inclusivity. But how inclusive are you when you tell people that they don’t count because “you’re not one of us?”
I believe you won’t find a new system for theater until you look within yourself about what you got from the old one. Status? Power? A sense of importance from being viewed as an insider?
There’s no shame in change.