DramaLit Blog 1.0: BU School of Theatre

Stages of Decay

November 22, 2011 at 12:28 am

I stumbled upon (yeah yeah, who cares – its a great website) this really cool site that showcases a bunch of theatre spaces that were once majestic and perfect and are now decayed and abandoned. THe title paage says “Before being darkened forever, they were sites of entertainment, pleasure, and contemplation- sometimes for audiences who had no other means of escaping from their worlds”

You guys gotta take a quick scroll through these various closed performance spaces! They are just beautiful. I know, I found myself saying my god they are so beautiful. And yet most of them are covered in dust, the stage is broken in, the curtains are ripped, the walls are falling down and the half seats are missing. But I still find the most interesting beauty in it all. Why is that?

I think its because I realize all the worlds that were once created on these stages. The hundreds (thousands?) of plays that were mounted on these unique spaces, in these specific towns/cities/villages etc all of the word… All that life still fills these pictures. Theres something really special and sacred and comforting to look at these photos. Again, comforting? huh? But for some reason it is! I wonder how this website would look to someone who is not constantly in the world of the theatre. Is it my close attachment to the art that makes me see all these decaying spaces so special?

I also see within all these spaces, NEW life that can be created. Whole new worlds that can still thrive in the decaying nature of the stage. I’ve been working on All My Sons in my directing class with Judy Braha and I’ve been interested in the nature of the play taking place in a haunted liminal space – like a purgatory. These abandoned spaces can serve that purpose! It holds such character and history and life.

I think about the building we work in everyday. All of Its history, where it started and what its become. We are performing an all girls production of Julius Caeser in a room that use to be a showroom for old Buicks?? (seriously check out that link and go to 1:16! CRAZY!) Its amazing! Thinking about the history of the CFA brings character and vibrancy and life into the building. I think theres something really special to be taken away from both these things. We constantly create worlds on top of the previous world – its like do you ever wonder how many layers of paint the TheatreLab has gone through? The layers of history in the space? It’s just really interesting to think about– how it provides a sort of sacredness to everything we do as artists.

By dkeohane | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

“Goodbye, God. I’m going to Bodie.”

November 21, 2011 at 2:49 pm

I present to you (In my estimation) a dramaturgical FEAST:

Three-hundred and sixty-one miles, six hours, fifty-four minutes from Los Angeles, California...

Bordering the Sierra National forrest and Yosemite National Park: A town founded in 1860, abandoned by 1941...

Approximately 150 structures "maintained in arrested decay..."

........Welcome to your stage.

Bodie, California was a gold-mining town that evolved slowly from a small mining camp in the early 1860's to "...the third most populous city in California by 1880." At its peak, Bodie contained over 50 saloons, a red light district and was known throughout the state as one of the roughest, most dangerous and lawless places to live. As one source states, a little girl, upon learning she was moving to Bodie wrote in her diary: "Goodbye, God. I'm going to Bodie."

........If that isn't a title for a play then I don't know what is.

Bodie was also home to Rosa May (Rosa Elizabeth White) who lived in the red light district. Rosa May was one among many prostitutes who plied their trade in lawless Bodie, but she distinguished herself as a hero -- beyond the label of "prostitute"-- in the winter of 1911. A pneumonia epidemic struck the town, specifically the men who mined for gold and thus fed the commerce of Bodie. Rosa May sacrificed her life (contracting the disease) to care for the men when many would not. Despite her acts of courage, her wooden grave is sequestered outside the Bodie township, amongst those of "...murderers and other Bodians of ill-repute." In the small, ramshackle town museum hangs Rosa's own red light from her days in Bodie's red light district and a single framed picture of the heroine.

.........Now, we have a potential protagonist.

Some other interesting information to note about the Bodie township:

The fire bell (hanging in the museum), which rang out the ages of the deceased as they were buried and was said to ring with grotesque regularity at the peak of Bodie's history.

Hollow graves remain in the Bodie cemetery, used for concealing alcohol during prohibition.

The Bodie hearse remains, utterly intact, in the museum-- beer bottles sit exactly where they were left (with sips remaining) in the last intact saloon-- Pews in the methodist church still dutifully face forward at an empty frame that once contained the ten commandments, painted on oilskin.

Here lies a wealth of history and memory that can be physically touched, held, smelled and-- if you're brave enough-- tasted (a la "sploosh" from Louis Sachar's Holes!). This is the sort of situation that inspires me dramaturgically, that makes my brain start buzzing and my heart start beating. It is a situation that illuminates my understanding of the creativity of dramaturgy and inspires me to push at the limits of artistry in all aspects, to blur the line, to drive a van full of actors to the middle of nowhere and stage a devised production on abandoned grounds where life once thrived.

So--

Goodbye, God. I'm going to Bodie.

(If you'd like to come with, check out these links!)

LA to Bodie...zoom in to see some pictures of Bodie

A wealth of Pictures

Even though its from \"Stumble Upon\" give it a chance-- check this blog out for some great info and pictures

By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

“I Know it’s a Theatre” Manifesto

November 20, 2011 at 7:33 pm

"I know it's a theatre. I know it's a stage." - Victor, House

Yesterday I saw Canadian playwright Daniel MacIvor's play House over at Studio 210 and had a slightly-universe-rocking experience. I felt moved, affected deeply - at times in ways I could put my finger on and at times in ways that still escape my conscious understanding.

Since I've been here at BU I've been constantly redefining my idea of what theatre is, and especially what GOOD theatre is. I've come to a place where I can read Mac Wellman's Antigone and find it moving. I can draw meaning from it's intentional chaos. I've come to enjoy post-modern dance and am generally a good little liberal theatre student.

So why did House rock me so? It struck me at once as avant-garde and utterly traditional.

Traditional - total unity of time, place and action. Victor is a clearly delineated character who operates via realistic psychological processes. Even when he takes flights of fancy, they seem to come from a certain internal logic. His world, if not EXACTLY ours, is very close. He is a bit of a Willy Loman - the dysfunctional modern everyman, chewed by the world. He is the protagonist, the projection screen for the audience's own neuroses.

And in other ways the production is near avant-garde - especially in its meta-theatricality. The fourth wall is obliterated, and the theatre is utterly undecorated except for the audience's seating and a few theatrical lights. Like the post-modern dancers, it strips away much of the theatricality of theatre to look at what is underneath. As I watched the performance I became more and more aware of my own assumptions walking into a theatre (even with all the stripping away that has happened at BU!)

The production was brutally simple and performed, directed and designed with such razor-like attention that every aspect felt necessary. Never did anything happen that felt unjustified. The power of the piece was in that it was a story told simply.

And why not? Simplicity! Human truth! Humor! These things don't need huge budgets or spectacle or anything, really, apart from people committed to telling a story truthfully. Once Victor admitted that he knew it was a theatre, a permission was given. Permission to listen. To feel, or not to feel.

It is easy in the exploration of the theatrical illusion for me to forget that it's okay to just be a storyteller. To just tell stories and trust that the meeting of human soul with human soul will simply, with no fanfare, inspire terror and pity.

So this is today's manifesto. Tomorrow a different one, maybe, but this for now. Simplicity, truth, admission of pain and pleasure, generosity, and humor. Occam's Razor stripping away all the artifice, all but exactly what is necessary. Let us speak truth, and trust that truth.

By Joseph | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

Grab bag! A comic for you – and my heart – and my threshold for Art.

November 20, 2011 at 12:25 am

So I went to Daniel MacIvor's play House on Thursday, with my very literal-minded best friend from Elsewhere, and I went to The PGK Project at Movement at the Mills on Friday, dragging along my roommate, also from Elsewhere, who was like, "...Oh. We're going to see a dance show?" (just imagine the tone)

I really enjoyed both performances! And not just because they were relatively short and I have no attention span! Sonia was also at The PGK Project, so maybe she'll write more about it specifically, but it was beautiful. So was House, though in a quite different way. And they were both - what was the word I used? Oh, right. I described them as both being "on the more palatable end of the spectrum." The spectrum being the range of bizarre Art that I've attended, participated in, studied, or encountered in some way since coming here.

Guys, I'm different than I was. I don't know how the kid who applied four years ago would have felt about these shows this weekend; for sure, she had a different spectrum than me. Bestie, who wishes she were less literal-minded, but alas, (I still love her!) spent the better part of House and before and after looking askance at me and going, "What???" and I was all, "What?" because it was so... normal. To me. And she couldn't "get" it - the experience-don't-analyze thing - until she'd read the program (which we received after), at which point she went, "Well, if I had known that beforehand!!" And I was like, "But that's the...point." Is it? Well, I don't know, but for sure I go into spaces more open-minded than I did, for all I still whine that we don't do anything "normal" or "happy" or "fun."

This permeates my non-theatre life, too - a friend pointed it out last spring, when I wrote about some of the things we talk a lot about here (the value of half-formed thoughts! being open to having your mind changed! generosity of spirit in the sharing of ourselves!). I guess it comes through even when I'm talking about, say, TV - I get into these long, involved conversations that wouldn't happen if not for this sense of listening and responding, of not being convinced of your own right-ness, not just waiting for your turn to speak.

Not that the journey is done, but, especially if you're graduating in May 2012, think of what you were like in DR100. Think of what some of your peers were like. I was terrified of you. Are you stiller/more measured/more open today, or am I braver? Maybe both? I hope both. Because of how we talk! Here! Around! THANKS, SCHOOL. I like you. Have another poem about the heart:

Another Poem About The Heart

When the floor drops out, as it has now,
you cannot hear the squirrel on the wire
outside your window, the wheels spinning
on the road below. You want only pity
and are presented with the unbelievable
effrontery of a world that moves on.
But wait: this is not the person you are.
You're the kind of person who
sits in dark theaters crying at the collarbones
that curve across the dancers' chests,
at the proof of a perfection they represent;
a person who goes out walking in a four-day drizzle,
sees a pot of geraniums and is seized, overcome
by how they can bring so much (what else
can you call it?) joy. You love the world,
are sure, at least, that you have. But be truthful:
you only love freely things that have nothing
to do with you. You're like a matchstick house:
intricately constructed but flimsy and hollow inside.
You're a house in love with the trees beside you -
able to look at them all day, aware of how faithful they are -
but unable to forgive that they'd lie down
leaving you exposed and alone in a large enough storm.

~ Jenn Habel

And thirdly, for fun, an xkcd comic I've had in mind since a recent class of ours:

By kmjiang | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Walkoutabout

November 18, 2011 at 10:36 am

Have you ever walked out of a show? If so, what and why? I'd love to read your answers.

There's an article in the Gaurdian about the RSC production of "Marat/Sade" and how people have been storming out. inspired by this, they asked their critics to recall a time they walked out of a show...or should have. Read it here http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/oct/24/arts-walkouts-marat-sade

The reasons for walking out seem to fall into three categories: BOREDOM, the offensive/abusive nature of the production, or the fact that it's just really really baaaad. I've certainly seen shows that fit in every category, or maybe all three categories, as was the case of one truly horrendous community theatre production I saw of "Kitty Kitty Kitty." So is it better just leave, or to stick it out and waste a valuable two hours. In my current life, two free hours represents an shining nugget of productivity or sleep, and I get really angry if that is taken from me. On the other hand, as artists we have a responsibility to stay and support our fellow craftsmen and also learn what we can from a failed production. I didn't walk out of "Kitty Kitty Kitty" because the theatre sat 30 and it would have been unbelievably awkward, so I guess that's a third reason.

I have yet to come across a play that was so offensive that I considered leaving. In my experience, if plays are vulgar, abusive, or explicit I'm usually more engrossed. When obscenity is used as the scaffolding for an otherwise boring play, THEN I start to get antsy. I had an interesting conversation with one of my co-workers about the Mabou Mines DollHouse. She's an english major with very little experience with theatre beyond the page. She loves Ibsen, and had read "A Dolls House" multiple times, and so she went to see this at the urging of one of her teachers. She told me she spent most of the play with her head in her hands, watching through her fingers. She also kept talking about how they all got naked. This is sort of how our conversation went:

Her: And then they got naked, even the little guy!

Me: Completely naked?

Her: Well no...

Me: So they still had something on.

Her: well yes, but they were still basically naked! When that happened I was like, "Ok, its time to go."

Me: Did you leave?

Her: No...

Something kept her in her seat, and I think it was the substance behind what she perceived as obscenity. To her it may have seemed like a car crash, to horrifying to look away. To theatre artists, I think its a wonderful success.

To conclude, here's my walk out confession: I walked out of the Colorado Shakespeare Festival's production of Romeo and Juliet this summer. It wasn't too rude because it's a huge outdoor theatre. I left because it was unspeakably boring, and half the actors didn't know what they were saying, and the other half were treating the audience as though they were four. I left because I got so angry that I thought staying would be bad for my health.

I'm really interested to hear about productions you walked out of--or should have, please comment if you have a story!

By sophiegr | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

“The Show Must Go On”

November 18, 2011 at 10:25 am

The Royal Opera House has developed a game for the iPad/iPhone/iPod touch that lets anyone "step into" the world of stage management through five mini-games. The player keeps track of lights, props, scenic changes, costumes, and gathering lost sheet music. The app has both Royal Opera and Royal Ballet options. Chief Executive Tony Hall said that it will "excite people who don't know about opera and ballet." I haven't played with the app yet, but from the description, I take issue with parts of it. The things the game has the player pay attention to does not encompass all of what a stage manager does. It completely ignores something I would have thought that it would touch upon: making sure we have actors/singers/dancers ready for entrances. If the developers really wanted to make an audience that probably has little to no understand of what a stage manager does more aware, I would also think that they would split the game into two. This way, players would be able to act as both stage manager and assistant stage manager. Having the ability to play both roles, I think the game could be more successful, and give more people a glimpse into the world of stage management. That being said, I do appreciate the fact that someone, somewhere, thought that there is a need for a stage management game. I know that when people ask me what I do, I sometimes struggle explaining it to them, because it feels as though we do so much and there is not an easy way to condense it. This app will answer some of those questions, along with having others experience some of the work we do.

http://www.roh.org.uk/news/royal-opera-house-launches-a-new-game-the-show-must-go-on

By jswolf | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

More dance shows!! The PGK Project @ Movement at the Mills (BCA)

November 17, 2011 at 2:50 am

...If you can't tell from the titles, I was going to combine these posts, but I know when things get long, people stop reading. So:

I guess the BCA has this thing called Movement at the Mills? It's basically, from what I can glean, a dance exhibition where three different companies perform in the same gallery and, instead of sitting down, people walk around and watch. I think it sounds really great, as my attention span for sitting down and watching performances "properly" seems to be getting rapidly worse instead of better, the more Art I encounter and the older I get? It's terrible.

Anyway! This Friday, November 18, 2011, at 7:30 PM, The PGK Project will be one of these groups! From their website:

The PGK Project is an eighteen year critically acclaimed, award winning contemporary repertory dance company originally founded in Munich, Germany now based in San Diego, California. Our mission is to create and produce affordable, artistically accessibile performances that promote diversity and community in entertaining, innovative, qualitative ways that educate audiences through dance.

Our performances are known for creating appreciation and awareness for the arts where dance is a cultural expression available and intended for everyone. Whether at home or on tour our objective is to engage community support of the arts where the arts can in turn support and promote community.

And they've invited six dancers from the local dance community to join them to create and perform! Not that I know who any of these people are, except the one that teaches here, but local + national = awesome! And I was actually most intrigued by the fact that the email that told me about this included the word site-specific. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh you guys - I'm dragging my roommate to it Friday night! If anyone doesn't have rehearsal, I totally encourage you to go as well! It is only one night, and it's free and open to the public! (And it sounds like you can leave whenever you want!) Again:

MOVEMENT AT THE MILLS
Friday, November 18, 2011 - 7:30 PM
Mills Gallery, 551 Tremont St.
Boston, MA 02116

By kmjiang | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

More dance shows! ORIGINS 2011.

November 16, 2011 at 10:40 pm

Guys, it's a problem that every time I come here to post I get massively distracted by all your interesting posts before me...

But anyway. Joe posted about helping Stuart with his work on DTG's annual Origins! but he did not tell you how to go see it! So:

Boston University's Dance Theatre Group is pleased to present ORIGINS 2011, a fall dance concert. This production showcases a wide variety of original works by student, alumni, and faculty choreographers.

Performances are:
Friday, November 18, 2011, at 8:00 PM
Saturday, November 19, 2011, at 4:00 PM & 8:00 PM

Tickets:
$8 BU community and students (with ID)
$12 General public

You can get tickets at the GSU Link from 10:30 AM to 4:00 PM tomorrow or Friday. You can also purchase tickets through the Dance Theater Box Office by calling 617-358-2500, or get them at the door!

I really enjoyed the BU Dance Showcase, when I went! And Stuart's in it. Why not? It's like ten steps from our door!

By kmjiang | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

The dramaturgy of our lives

November 16, 2011 at 6:37 pm

I’ve been thinking lately about the dramaturgy of life. If social constructs and categories (i.e. race, gender, sexual identity, ect.), cause us to ‘perform’ in life (i.e. gender performativity) then are we the dramaturgs of our own lives? After all, as Shakespeare says, "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts" Is not dramaturgy what leads us to change roles? A changing of what we need to be as defined by our circumstances? New parts of ourselves becoming relevant and needed? Aren’t we constantly contextualizing what is going on with us to our ‘viewers’ or those around us? Is therapy nothing but the forming of a dramaturgical concordance? We look into our past to understand our present in the same way that a dramaturgy researches terms and ideas referenced in the play. Often these are historical and help to make sense of the plays’ present world, just like therapy helps us make sense of our present. This idea hit me while reading a blog that I often peruse, written by my old director’s partner who has a non-traditional gender identity. Her (She identifies as a woman, but not in the patriarchal gender roles sense) post describing her gender identity reminded me of dramaturgy. The dramaturgy of our lives. Making sense of ourselves and others in the larger context of society. Making choices that make us accessible or inaccessible to society, the same way a dramaturg does for a piece of art. We are the living art, making conscious or unconscious dramaturgical decisions everyday. Some food for thought.

By sdecker | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

From Stage to Silver Screen

November 16, 2011 at 6:11 pm

I was thinking a lot about our quick discussion in class about the filming of stage pieces, particularly in reference to comments on "The Shipment." Ilana said something about the translation from stage to screen, and how effective or ineffective it can be, and I find this radiotimes article to be pretty relevant to what we do.
Based on what the article says, there has been an increasing trend to screen theatrical performances in order to make these events more available to the public. Anywhere from plays, musicals, to big concerts, there has been a rise in the joining of these two worlds. And while I still believe that there is nothing like being present in a live performance, I love that we, as two separate communities, are trying to come together. Especially because once a cinema-going audience sees a filmed theatre piece that they like, they are extremely likely to come back for more. And I think that by doing this, there are ultimately going to be more people who decide to take the big leap in seeing an actual piece of theatre.
I think the greatest thing about filming live performances and broadcasting them all over the world is that so many more people get the opportunity to see pieces of theatre. There was a huge increase in the population of lower-income citizens and younger audiences seeing things like "Young Frankenstein" and "FELA," because it was so much more accessible. And while I don't think these pieces of theatre are AT ALL the end all be all of theatre, it sparks something in those who don't have the privilege to see live theatre. In 2009, I got the opportunity to see U2 perform in concert. And not because I paid $200 to see one of their concerts, but because I got a free Sundance ticket to see the world premiere of "U2 in 3D" concert film. And it really was like being at one of their concerts. The cinematography and thought that went into this film really was incredible, and it felt very similar to my own live concert experiences. Except I was in the front row!!!
So while I will always believe in the power of live theatre, I think there is something to be said for it's translation to the screen. It provides filmmakers with new creative challenges, theatre artists more opportunities, and less fortunate citizens more of a chance to figure out what theatre is all about.

By bsands91 | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

The Intiman Theatre…MAKING A COMEBACK!

November 16, 2011 at 12:54 pm

This summer, while I was interning for a theatre company that was in the process of reestablishing themselves in the world of the arts, I was required to do a lot of administrative work to enable them to get back on their feet and moving forward in the right direction. One of the tasks I was required to do was conduct research on all of the LORT theatres in order to understand each theatres mission, how they dictate their season, if they offer any sort of educational or schooling benefits, and how they deal with their status as a non-profit organization.

One of the theatres I became particularly interested with was the Intiman Theatre which is currently based out of Seattle, Washington. When I was researching, I couldn't believe what I was reading. The theatre had actually temporarily closed down and brought its season to an abrupt halt due to a complete lack of funding and support. It was incredibly frustrating as a theatre artist who, ultimately, would like to work with a company of this nature and magnitude.

You can imagine my excitement when I came across a small article on the Arts Beat blog that was tracking the theatre's financial growth and plans to reopen. The theatre is in the process of trying to raise $1 million dollars in order to reopen its doors next summer for a completely new season that will showcase the theatre as a big, bad wolf on the West Coast Theatre Front. So far, the Intiman has successfully raised $100,000.00 in pledges from the board AS WELL AS a $100,000.00 donation from an anonymous source.

Despite this progress, the Intiman is true to their word. They have stated that they will not touch the money until they have completed their goal of raising $1 million. With growing anticipation and excitement, The theatre has announced their proposed summer season in the hopes that it will generate excitement and help move them farther along in the fundraising process. They have decided upon "Romeo and Juliet" set against the backdrop of the Palestinian-Israeli Conflict, Ibsen's "Hedda Gabbler", and a new work that has not yet been released.

The Intiman Theater in Seattle may be down, but it’s not yet out. After suspending its operations the financially struggling regional theater is trying to raise $1 million to stage four productions next summer, and the board announced on Monday that it had so far raised $100,000 from board pledges and $100,000 from an anonymous donor, according to The Seattle Times.

“Whether someone has committed $20 or $5,000, we only will spend it if we reach our entire goal for the season,” said Andrew Russell, the theater’s consulting artistic director. The proposed summer season includes Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” staged in the context of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, Henrik Ibsen’s “Hedda Gabler” and a new work that the theater characterized as “outlandish” by the author and activist Dan Savage.

By laynek | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Morality in Art?

November 15, 2011 at 9:40 pm

Okay guys, I have been chewing this quotation form Orson Scott Card over for a few weeks now. I cannot get it out of my head, and I thought I should share it with you. Orson Scott Card is the author of the Ender's Game series. He's a devout Mormon and this series is complete science fiction with no mention of Mormonism. In this interview he was asked if his moral lessons were intentional in his books. This is his answer:

There's always moral instruction whether the writer inserts it deliberately or not. The least effective moral instruction in fiction is that which is consciously inserted. Partly because it won't reflect the storyteller's true beliefs, it will only reflect what he BELIEVES he believes, or what he thinks he should believe or what he's been persuaded of.

But when you write without deliberately expressing moral teachings, the morals that show up are the ones you actually live by. The beliefs that you don't even think to question, that you don't even notice-- those will show up. And that tells much more truth about what you believe than your deliberate moral machinations. There are plenty of Mormons who think my stuff is terrible or evil because I don't preach the Mormon gospel in every book. My answer is, "Yes, I do, but only to the extent that I believe it so deeply that I don't even realize I'm teaching it as it comes out."

And, of course, there's a lot of other beliefs from other sources. I'm also an American, I'm an individual with a certain set of experiences, and I'm a member of my family, and all of those communities have given shape to my life. So moral teachings that arise from all of those settings will emerge in my fiction. At the same time, I'll also reveal the areas where I disagree with many mainstream beliefs in each of those traditions.

Here's what I want to highlight. "It will only reflect what he believes he believes." YES. As a huge offender of trying to stuff a moral lesson down audiences' faces, I know this is not successful. Also, Card makes a great point that looking at your own art is a great way to realize what you really believe. Isn't that a cool way to approach the combination of morality and art?

By alassar | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

Rape, Race, and Religion

November 15, 2011 at 9:28 pm

In high school I competed a lot in speech and debate competitions, and during the down time we tended to discuss the merit of come of our competition. (ie. rip them apart) A theme we constantly berated was the overuse of what we called the three R’s: rape, race, and religion. I came home again and again swearing that if I saw another girl spend ten minutes pretending to cry about being raped, then having cancer, then finding Jesus, and subsequently discovering she was actually black, I would die. I was bored of the three R’s, and more than that, I felt strong animosity towards them.

Last night I came home from a poetry slam in which the R’s made another appearance. In the poetry slam community, I also get a little sick of these themes. So last night when I came home, I was very interested to read the article by Eve Ensler that a friend had shared with me on facebook. This article has been spreading around the web like wild fire. In it, Ensler posits that she is over the trivialization of rape. The article is incredibly well written and reads more like a monologue or poem than article.

This article really made me think. REALLY made me think. I too have written poems about the three R’s, and have enjoyed plenty others. Why do I get sick of them? It’s because I too am over the trivialization of rape. I’m over the exploitation of rape, race, religion, and a myriad of other topics. In fact, I’m not sick of the three R’s. They are so integral to my life that I realize my anger comes from their use as justifiers for bad art. I might even want to see more art about rape. I don’t want to see art that tries to cover its flaws by manipulating our “rape sympathy button”. We need more of the three R’s in our art, because I’m not over them. I deal with all three intimately every day of my existence. Truly, I am deeply offended that artists would exploit these topics to get praise.

Here’s what I’m interested to know now. Have you guys ever come away from a piece of art feeling like your emotions were exploited? Have you ever used easy emotional triggers in your art? I don’t think I was alone in feeling manipulated by the three R’s, and I have learned a valuable lesson about why.

By alassar | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Ending up a Dramaturg

November 15, 2011 at 8:59 am

Last night I was asked by our friend and classmate Stuart to come participate in the tech of a solo he is performing this weekend in BU's Dance Theatre Group show "Origins." I showed up and provided a body to see the lighting on, filmed a run, and gave comments. I've been helping Stuart out in this way for a few weeks now, occasionally helping him out by lending an outside eye.

I've spent my time with him primarily noting how things are hitting me. "I don't get what's going on there", I'll say, or "Yeah, I found that really surprising!" During this last run of the piece we both realized that one piece of choreography was breaking out of the choreographic world that had been set up, and were able to change it. I've helped out with music selection, choreography, and served as the eye of the audience.

I was thinking about what exactly my "role" might be in this process. I'm not a choreographer, certainly - that's Stuart. He takes any comments I make and then decides his own movement. So what am I? I'm kind of a dramaturg. Excluding the reams of research necessary on a written text, I found myself filling many of the parts we've studied as falling under the hat of production dramaturg. Serving as the naive audience member, watching for continuity, expressing my own good ideas with discretion and aplomb.

The articles we read at the beginning of the year that mentioned the possibility of dramaturgs for things as wide-ranging as architecture make more sense to me now. The weaving together, the eye for continuity, the subtle observation of all the parts and how they will relate to the public - this is such a vital function!

In this piece I was truly a facilitator, both for Stuart himself and for Stuart's connection with his audience - it's not my voice or choreography out there on stage, not by any means (and has no right to be) but I can look at sections and see how my contributions eased a transition or clarified a moment.

Dramaturgs are USEFUL, man.

By Joseph | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

The Divine Sister at SpeakEasy: Women’s Studies and the joyful legality of satire

November 15, 2011 at 8:55 am

My Sex and Gender class (fantastic, so interesting) is visiting SpeakEasy tomorrow to see The Divine Sister.

From SpeakEasy's website: "The Divine Sister is an inspired homage to every Hollywood film ever made about nuns. Written by Charles Busch, the comic genius behind such classics as Die, Mommie, Die!; Psycho Beach Party; andVampire Lesbians of Sodom, this gleefully twisted tale tells the story of an indomitable Mother Superior trying to cope with a young postulant experiencing "visions," a sensitive schoolboy in need of mentoring, a mysterious nun visiting from Berlin, and a former suitor intent on luring her away from her vows."

The only other experience I've had with this is is that it happens to be my old choir director's favorite. And he loves Wicked, I thought, so it must not be for me. But if my Women's Studies class is making an outing to witness it, I think I need to reconsider my assumptions... I've always been severely turned off by satire that is explicit in its protest. I oftentimes (not always) find it abrasive because of the sometimes holier than thou attitude. But perhaps if my incredibly intelligent feminist professors are making a thing of it, I should try it out. Also, through the writing of this I have rediscovered that I still avoid theatre I think I won't like... I thought I was getting better about it, but hey, here's an example of my self-detrimental pickiness.

Lastly, I point out something that is irrelevant to what I addressed above, but in light of last week's discussion on copyright law, I think it's cool. How rad is it that satire is protected? We can be bummed out about not being able to use Mickey Mouse in our plays, fine. But at least we know we always have satire. (looking on the sunny side.)

FULLER, OVER AND OUT!

By cofuller | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

24 Hour Play Projects

November 15, 2011 at 4:20 am

227594_8398357853_629102853_376256_268_n My freshman year here, getting to participate in SOT's own rendition of the "24 Hour Play Project" was the best thing to happen to me at the time.

Not being in the casting pool for that first year seems like such a bummer when you're in the thick of it all (although in retrospect I'm glad to have waited), and I know that I was itching for a chance to do that acting thang we do. Not only did I get to be involved in my first "show", but I got to work with some amazing sophomores (holla Kate, Bridget, and Dan you seniors you) and experience what it's like to create something in under 10 hours. Although for the playwright, the process began the night before. It was hectic, it was crazy, it was incredibly nerve-wracking, but it was oh-so-amazingly rewarding. If only for the fact that I got Matt Ketai's stamp of approval that night when he introduced himself to me and said "I don't talk to people I don't like. So hello".

However, the most important thing I think I learned from that experience was that time-crunches are the instruments by which we tell the stories we've dreamed of telling, but never forced ourselves to finish. It gives everyone involved such an amazing opportunity to get right down to work and discard the theorizing, the dilly-dallying, the excess conversation. It's straight-up work. But the time-lock is exhilarating and exciting and adds a sense of danger to the whole process. Now, one might say that because of the short span of time the emphasis is more on product than on process. Well, maybe, but who cares? Even if one's emphasis is product, don't you still learn something through the PROCESS of getting there? I love that our mantra at this school is Process over Product. It's been really helpful for me as an artist because I've had to reflect on all the journeys that have brought me where I am now. Like my experience with the 24 Hour Play Project which I wouldn't trade for the world. But also...I want my product to be good. And I think that's really okay. If I didn't want my product to be good, good as in moving, meaningful, helpful, cathartic, life-changing, than what am I doing here?

I started thinking about these 24 Hour Play Projects while perusing the good book (of faces) and coming across a picture that a close family friend had posted. Peter Ellenstein, or Uncle Peter to some, is the current Artistic Director at the William Inge Center for the Arts in Independence, Kansas and he has had the good fortune of participating in the 24 Hour Plays in NYC for the last several years. The 24 Hour Play galas in New York, LA, and London each invite celebrities to participate and raise money for the Urban Arts Partnership which fosters inner city kids to transform their lives artistically. Today, Peter posted a picture with the caption "Really Fun Cast!" that included Justin Long, David Cross, Gabourey Sidibe and I thought to myself, who are you and how do I lead your life? I started this post with the intention of posting that picture, but I think in good form I will not as it is not mine to share. However the picture above is from the 2007 24HrPP from the piece Peter directed called "Tenure" by Michael Lew. It starred Elizabeth Banks, Aasif Mondvi, and for their first-but-not-last encounter, David Cross. Basically he directs famous people and I do not. Yet. I also got this photo from facebook but I feel like enough time has passed that all is appropriate with the world.

Last year we didn't do the 24 Hour Play Project and I hope it does not happen again. It is such a wonderful opportunity for our community to come together and create! Seniors...register us please here. We can win things like fame and fortune and notoriety. Let's do it!

By mcherzog | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Marina Abromovic is present…

November 15, 2011 at 1:52 am

Marina Abramovic has been calling out to me this week, and I have only touched the surface of a deep, rich pool of art and creation.

A New-York based Serbian artist, Marina Abramovic has been making work since the 1970's. Since the beginning, her work has explored the relationship between performer and audience, the limits of the body, and the possibilities of the mind. In her early performances, she carved a star with a blade into her stomach, she stood naked in a doorway with another man as people passed through and she created a piece entitled "Rhythm 0" in which she placed 72 objects that could inflict pain and pleasure and, for hours, allowed the audience to act with the objects as they pleased. She is a revolutionary in the art world and has been honored for her avant-garde work.

This is a film she created called "The Star." It's one of the best films I've ever seen. Simple, yet oh so complex and provocative.

This is a recent talk she gave at the Smithsonian. It's absolutely WONDERFUL. She talks about her process of making performance and shows several videos of well-composed pieces that portray the artful, speaking body.

This is a link to her manifesto. These are wise words I'd like to live by and I feel are worth reading.

One of her most recent pieces is titled "The Artist is Present." In this piece, Abramovic spent 3 months at the MoMA and sat at a table where one audience member at a time was allowed to sit there with her. Marina and the audience member sat with each other and stared into each other's eyes. The beauty and challenge of this piece was to question how long presence can last. To be present is one of our greatest struggles in the modern era. What can we do in our circumstances to be in the now for our loved ones and ourselves? What conversations must we have with ourselves to push our limits of presence?

In her Smithsonian lecture, Abramovic talks about the difference between performance art and theatre. Having only created one piece of theatre, which is an autobiography that is redirected every 4 years (now it's being worked on by Bob Wilson), she states that theatre is unattractive because it's fake. In performance art, nothing is fake. Everything is happening in real time and the circumstances are real. For example, if you bleed, you are really bleeding.

Having been deeply inspired by this work, I question how I can make my theatre more real? How can I really serve my audiences through art in a genuine way? I think one of the answers to this is what was explored in "The Artist is Present." To push our notion of presence reveals transparency, which is the key to universality. But I think modern artists can look even deeper into this question and push its possibilities in theatrical performance. Figuring out how I can make reality a part of my performance-practice is a question I think worth exploring.

By sbmeyers | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Consider…. the Flash Mob…

November 14, 2011 at 9:27 pm

So I was doing some reading around the Arts pages of some big name newspapers and it got me thinking about flash mobs. On the storytelling gambit people in flash mobs seem to run between spontaneous explosions of joy and laughter, to advertisements for major corporations. To me flash mobs have always seemed to dwell someplace on the Guerilla Theatre front. In the type of society we live in now where so many things happen instantly and then disappear from our world and from our thoughts what better medium to use to communicate with people than a Flash Mob? They're a mob... so you cant' ignore them and they're there and suddenly gone, so their not wasting your time, they're free and usually make people smile... all things that the common theatrical experience isn't...

Typically going to the theatre is an investment, an investment of time, usually of a good chunk of money, and, like it or not, you're pretty much bound in your seat until intermission (if there is one). Now, by no means am I insinuating that the theatre should adopt more of the mindset of a flashmob, at least, not in totality. My initial reaction is to say that there are certain things that a flashmob can't do that theatre can (one might be pay the people who participate but this could also be up for debate), but is there? If theatre is a reflection of the culture, if it's purpose is (to quote the cliche) " to hold as twere the mirror up to nature," then why, in our fast paced society, are shows still three hours long and pricier than a Van Gogh? I've always been a big fan of developing a story, giving it time to develop and take the audience on a journey in the mean time but I think that the culture is nudging us in a different direction. Really, this is nothing new, before revenge tragedies got big I'm sure there were theatre artists sitting around saying "you know, I'm going to miss the love and the pretty language and the frolicking, but the culture needs some gore every now and then, and a few severed heads." These artists saw the disconnect between their art and their society and jumped in and viola, theatre happened and people loved it! I love to take time to develop a story, take time to delve into a character, but what if what the society needs is something a little more instantaneous, if nothing else perhaps it will demonstrate that there are certain things that require time to be great, on the other hand once again we are able to reflect and be in harmony with the society around us and, in doing this become an important part of it instead of a luxury that merely exists on the outside.

By lumiere1 | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Fitz and the Tantrums

November 14, 2011 at 6:23 pm

SO... on Friday night, I went to The House of Blues and saw this incredible band called "Fitz and the Tantrums." You may know them from their breakout hit, "Moneygrabber," which is burning up the radio a little bit right now. This experience was notable for multiple reasons: 1. I felt like a real, live, 21-year-old college student living in Boston by going to a concert on a Friday night with a non-CFA friend. 2. I made a conscious effort (bought tickets in advance, took a cab, made a dinner reservation) to see art without it feeling like a duty/obligation/chore. 3. It got me thinking about how every type of performance might ultilize similar if not the same elements as actors use in theatrical performance.

Okay, so to speak to point 1: I just find it easy to forget that I'm young and I live in a vibrant city where cool things happen everyday, and it's easy for me to get caught up in the SOT because of our schedule. I'm not complaining--I'm paying to be here and to be trained in a conservatory-style environment--but it is so rad to have a Friday free every once in a while.

Point 2: I've been finding myself in a disturbing pattern (with these posts, as well) wherein thinking about/talking about/seeing/experiencing art feels obligatory. Like, "OH GOD I SHOULD see that show/exhibit/what-have-you because if I don't, I'm not doing my JOB." Well, let me just say to myself and all y'all: Uh-uh. That ain't right. First of all, I love art--theatre, visual, music--and it feeds my soul to experience it. So why do I resist it? I could blame over-saturation, i.e. being immersed in art all day/night for most of my time, but again, aren't I paying for that? Why is it so easy for me to turn a trip to the MFA or BCA into a chore? I've been using the gym analogy a lot lately, it seems, but it works: Why do I resist with every bone in my body going to the gym, when, after every visit, I feel GREAT?! And, when did seeking out art become like the gym? Is it because I know I should? Because I know it's "good for me"? Is that okay? I'm wrestling. At the beginning of the semester, on my big staples calendar on my desk, I wrote out my goals, and most of them included "gym-like" activities: cleaning my room and doing laundry AT LEAST once a week, eating healthier, ...going to the gym, doing my work at my desk and ahead of time...etc. So, is it okay that I'm blocking my time up like this? And, even more important, is it okay that seeing art is becoming a bullet-point on my "TO-DO" list? Is collecting/seeing/experiencing/seeking out art a muscle you have to exercise that will eventually be strong enough to not even give a second thought to?!

3. I was completely entranced by these two. They were flirtatious, funny, angry, sorrowful, regretful, lost, joyous, scorned, etc. etc. etc. with ABANDON! They did everything they were doing, and fully. And let me just say, Noelle Scaggs plays a mean tambourine, and she plays it like she means it. So, as they sang to us and to each other, I couldn't help but notice how strong their intentions were--when they were seducing each other, they were seducing each other, when they were inviting us, they were inviting us, etc. etc.--and how they went after their objectives so strongly! (THEATRE NERD!) And I was wondering, was it purposeful, or did it flow freely from them? And, if it was purposeful, they are the best actors I've ever seen perform. If it wasn't, how do I bring that sense of ease, urgency, assuredness, confidence, and strength to my acting? It's a weird rant/connection, and it might not make sense, but it got me thinking.

Also, check these guys out, they're incredible. Also also, let me know how you feel about this gym/art debate/analogy. Do you feel the same? Do you make yourself see art or does it just happen naturally?

By ccleary7 | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

Anne Carson’s “Nox”

November 14, 2011 at 1:17 pm

Anne Carson's book, Nox, may be considered an exploration of grief through translation. This is my best grasp at defining an undefinable work. Like the act of translation itself, in trying to find a definition of this work to post for you, I could discover no "one-to-one" correlation between mediums I am familiar with as a reader and this work. That is not to say that the book is unstructured, it simply plays by its own rules, rules that I was unfamiliar with as a reader.

Nox is a meeting of two events. Anne Carson's translation of Cadmus's poem 101, her fragmented relationship with her brother after he ran away from home and his death. Carson began translating the poem before the death of her brother, though it seems always in relation to him. Perhaps she began in an attempt to process their fractured relationship.

Many the peoples many the oceans I crossed --
I arrive at these poor, brother, burials
so I could give you the last gift owed to death
and talk (why?) with mute ash.
Now that Fortune tore you from me, you
oh poor (wrongly) brother (wrongly) taken from me,
now still anyway this -- what a distant mood of parents
handed down as the sad gift for burials --
accept! Soaked with tears of a brother
and into forever, brother, farewell and farewell.

-- Catullus (translated by Anne Carson)

Anne claims even after the publication of Nox that the translation contained therein is unsatisfactory to her. The words she has chosen are not her perfect words. She is still searching, and even in Nox, the pages-- filled with definitions of all possible options for a word-- are an invitation to search with her.

Nox contains, among the process of translation laid bare for the reader, the personal fragments that Carson dealt with in composition. The only picture of her brother, fragments of the only letter he ever wrote after fleeing home, and pieces of her own story: what happened after her brother's death, accounts of what he said the few times she spoke to him on the phone. And tucked in at every corner the Greek and Latin words that flooded her world. This is physical evidence that (at least for Carson) translation is anything but clinical.

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By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)