Do-Your-Own-Thing-Ism: The Future of the American Theatre?

Among the immeasurable traits of our species, no idea is more human than the concept of identity, and no medium has served as a better outlet for expressing that identity than art. From the hands stenciled on cave walls in Argentina to modern day film and television, art remains an institution that will carry on, hopefully, ad infinitum. 

More fascinating still is the phenomena of trends that have formed within art throughout the centuries following its formalization: the Neoclassicism of the eighteenth century, Surrealism in the 1920s, and Postmodernism following the Second World War. Each movement is characterized by its own traits, like melting clocks or the introduction of domestic issues to the American stage, but has this generation found its historical distinction that will catapult it from the stage to page? 

The art form in question here is primarily theatre. Across the country, and perhaps even the world, students of the Theatre in their history courses are taught the big names and ideas that have transcended the ages, but the question on the tip of everyone’s tongue is “What will we call our movement? Who will we be to the students ages from now?” 

It’s a particularly valid question in an age where electronic communication has made the transmission and digestion of information an almost instantaneous process. As such, the cultural boundaries between styles have begun to crumble and the world is rapidly becoming a more

integrated place to live. The process is still gaining momentum, so it’s possible that its identifying traits may have yet to take shape. 

At the moment it appears the world of artistry is in a state of “do-your-own-thing-ism”, which is exactly what its name implies. As the arts are on the rise in American universities, there has been a mass influx of young artists graduating with no particular prescription for form in an atmosphere that’s open to try just about anything. For theatre artists, this means that the already slim job market is losing opportunities fast, which drives the young artists to become entrepreneurs, forming their own experimental theatre groups in found spaces with their colleagues.

You might could even consider it a rebirth of the Independent Theatre movement of the late nineteenth century. With Broadway full to the brim with musicals and Disney adaptations as well as an intensely competitive theatre scene, it’s no wonder new artists turn to “new play” houses or even each other for support instead of the starstruck conglomerate that has become the American Theatre.
In time and with careful nurturing, today’s young artistic community has the potential to blossom into a full-blown artistic movement every bit as powerful as the counter-culture movement in the sixties or the romanticism that contested the rationalization of nature. What makes this generation unique, however, is that it is self-aware it’s evolving into something spectacular. So. What will the history books read?

A Defense of the Art of Constructive Criticism

In another day working with prestigious theatrical critics, the student critics attending the KCACTF workshop had the opportunity to pass their work in front of Celia Wren (Washington Post) and Chris Jones (The Chicago Tribune). Jones spent his few hours with the critics delivering an interactive lecture before critiquing a few pieces of student-written journalism.

Jones spoke on what it means to be a responsible critic and noted how criticism, no matter who from, has the potential to damage reputations and shatter egos; thus it's always important to take special care in your writing when dropping names. Just as it's necessary to give credit where credit is due, the critic must place blame where it belongs.

Jones suggests the responsible critic will consider whether the fault is with the performer/performance relationship or the actor/material relationship. It's also incredibly important to take your time to determine whether the artist at fault is the actor or the director.

Jones went on to explain his perception of his target audience(s) and described them as two groups that can be further divided into three: the "Insiders"and "Outsiders", which are then subdivided into "the Artists", "the Attendants", and "the Absents", the latter two will be discussed momentarily.

The artists of course look at criticism as an assessment of their work while the attendants and absents see it as a kind of consumer guide. Many artists detest this function of theatrical criticism and believe assigning stars or a numerical value to their work puts a kind of "grade" on an emotional response. There's no shortage of blogs and websites attacking critics for their reviews, asserting if an artist puts their heart and soul into a piece of art there's no way it can be "bad". They argue art is a subjective industry and no one man should have the power to pass judgement.

What these artists fail to realize is that the critic understands one hundred and ten percent the subjectivity of all artistic industries - be they Art, Theatre, The Culinary Arts, Music - and that is precisely the reason his position exists: To share a trusted opinion on the intent and execution of an artistic piece that illustrates the piece with a group of readers that may share his tastes.

Chris Jones explains the two other subdivisions of his readership - the Attendants and the Absents - as those who read the review with the intention of attending the Theater, and those who read the review purely for recreation, respectively. These may be a lesser portion of his readership, but the one that has the most direct effect on the box office, and ultimately the preservation of the art as a whole.

The Theatre is struggling to survive in a world where instant gratification and the declining necessity to leave the couch for entertainment drains audiences from their seats. Many people who love the Theatre even may prefer staying at home with their on-demand films to the kind of investment it takes to visit the theater. An evening at the theater requires a financial, chronological, and emotional commitment that many are not prepared to make for something they may or may not appreciate. It is therefore the responsible critic's primary duty to offer their unbiased opinion on a work while always acting as an advocate for the Art (that is, encouraging the progression and growth of the Theatre by way of always demanding better). It is my opinion that a malicious critic or one who treats his profession as a game and the industry as a chess board has no business behind a keyboard.

A Day of Workshops

Being involved in the Institute for Theatre Journalism & Advocacy here at the Kennedy Center has turned out to be (though not a bad thing) quite different than what I expected, and the atmosphere has taken a unique shape. Given the Institute's emphasis on criticism as an art form, it's almost mystical or Meyerholdian when considered how the sessions take shape from the outside: The critics, all tucked into a small room at the end of the hall in the back of the back of the back of a theatrical building; glasses perched at the bridge of noses, eyes narrowed as forty fingers bludgeon keyboards relentlessly. Sages of the generations past visit the young artists to share their wisdom as part of an even grander festival celebrating the Arts while shaping and molding the future. Aristotle would be proud.

 Joining the aspiring journalists during the day are Bob Mondello of NPR and Chris Klimek of the Washington Post. Mondello shares his wisdom in the field of radio-delivered criticism by offering tricks of the trade and encouraging each of us to venture out and join our local radio stations because they are "in dire need of critics . . . and they want the youth". Klimek offered to read our reviews of Laugh and gave constructive criticism to help us better revise our columns. After a hasty dinner and spectacular performance of Man of La Mancha, we were (albeit exhausted) to bed to await another day.