Superfluities Redux

by George Hunka
Artistic director, theatre minima

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Monday, 30 November 2009

New blood and old fogeys

Leonard Jacobs today discusses a blog post by Laura Parker on a recent public interview in Australia with American dramatist Edward Albee. Parker drags up from the depths the usual arguments with Albee's insistence on the integrity of his written drama and his dismay with directorial interference with it. To quote Parker:

According to Albee, the problem is that the world of theatre has changed in ways he disapproves of. He is especially irked by the increasing importance of a director's vision, which is now understood to be just as valuable as what is being directed. In interviews and public speeches, Albee has been vocal about his distaste for those who neglect his strict stage directions. In his eyes, directors who foist their own vision on a production are nothing but "interpretive types that think they know our work better than we do."

And the usual entirely predictable references to Beckett ensue as well ("Following Beckett's death, the playwright's licenses and rights to perform his plays fell into the hands of his nephew, Edward Beckett, who has maintained an iron-grip on his uncle's work. He is known for refusing to grant licenses for productions that do not strictly adhere to Beckett's stage directions"). As Jacobs rightly notes, there's some fast-and-loose playing with the biographical facts of Albee's career. I'd also note that while Beckett and the Beckett Estate have come in for their fair share of disapproval when it came to their insistence on the integrity of Beckett's texts as well, the three most egregious instances of protest (the JoAnne Akalaitis staging of Endgame in 1984 at the ART, the Fiona Shaw/Deborah Warner production of Footfalls in the West End in 1994, and Beckett's long-standing refusal to grant approval to an all-female Waiting for Godot) tend to obscure the hundreds of Beckett productions that have revisioned his dramatic and prose texts, opening them to new directorial approaches (including the work of the Mabou Mines in the 1970s, even Akalaitis' recent theatre staging of the teleplay Eh Joe), all with Beckett's or the Estate's explicit permission.

This aside, as Jacobs also notes, this is not an argument that anybody is going to win. In part, much of this is dependent on the way in which the dramatist sees his or her own work: as the springboard for a more collaborative production, or, among fewer dramatists, as something more in the nature of a musical score. All the words and notes are there, but there is more to a musical composition than that: there are also the dynamic markings, notes on timbre, rests and precise silences. This, too, is music, as the written stage direction is a part of the drama. It takes no great exercise of negative capability to realize that playwrights can lie in one camp or the other. The written dramatic text is not simply prey for the target of any director, designer or performer who comes along to revision it. If a director is true to the spirit of collaboration, they will recognize the author, living or dead, as a collaborator and honor such wishes as the author of that text expresses. The death of a dramatist does not entail the death of his or her stage directions as well.

Only a simple mind will conclude that such an approach will lead to identical stagings of an individual play; they may be similar, but there is room enough for the live performer and director to draw from the text individual nuances, as conductors and musical performers continually find new dimensions to the work of great composers. Perhaps it would be best for those directors who chafe against authorial integrity to avoid staging these plays altogether; surely there are other texts, other dramatists, to which they can bring their own idiosyncratic vision. Of course, this would mean that they wouldn't be able to attach their names to a work commonly attributed as being "by" Samuel Beckett or "by" Edward Albee, and thereby bask in an unearned, opportunistic glory. And that would be too bad. But better that, perhaps, than to engage in pointless wrangling and possible court action; both dramatists and directors have better ways to spend their time.

I didn't mention that Ms. Parker provides her own punch line to her original post; it's here.

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