|
Home > Guardian
Thursday, 27 May 2010
... asks David Jays in today's Guardian. I'm
rather with "zauberberg" in the comments section when she or he says,
"I find the very fact that this question is posed baffling."
But more, they'd pretty damn well be literature or the May 2010 issue
of Theater journal from the Yale School of Drama
is a waste of so much pulp and ink. This new issue specifically addresses
the current status of play-as-text or vice versa,
featuring new performance texts from the Nature Theater of Oklahoma
(Romeo and Juliet) and Big Art Group (SOS), as well as
essays by editor Tom Sellar, Juliana Francis Kelly, Jacob
Gallagher-Ross and Karinne Keithley. I suppose I provide my own
response to Jays' question in my own contribution to the issue, "The
Booking of the Play" — about six thousand words of it, I think, and
only available to paying customers there, or on your local newsstands
now.
But in brief: are plays proper literature? Of course they are, and
capable of
being interpreted from a variety of valid standpoints as readers: for
entertainment, for study, for formal qualities. It's just that, like
novels, poems and other forms, sometimes they're very poor proper
literature indeed.
Home > Guardian
Wednesday, 05 May 2010
The recent announcement that the Broadway production of Lucy Prebble's
Enron will close this Sunday unleashed rare vitriol from the
pen of the Guardian's Michael Billington today. Apart from some
harsh words (including "obtuse") for the review of the show from New
York Times' chief critic Ben Brantley, Billington is more exercised
about Broadway in general:
[One] reason for the attacks is the entrenched American
view that visual pyrotechnics and razzle-dazzle are the special
province of the musical. Plays, on the other hand, are judged by their
fidelity to what a critic once called "the visible and audible surfaces of
everyday life." It's permissible for Wicked or Legally
Blonde to deploy expressionist techniques but, on Broadway at least,
plays are expected to conform to the realist rules. ...
If the melancholy saga of Enron proves anything,
it is Broadway's irrelevance to serious theatre. It is simply a big, gaudy
commercial shop-window where fortunes can be won and lost; and I've
long argued that the beating heart of American theatre is to be found in
Chicago, from which a truly terrific American play, Tracy Letts's
August: Osage County, recently emerged. Next time an ambitious
producer thinks of taking a London hit play to Broadway, I'd suggest they
ask themselves one simple question: is your journey really necessary?
With the rumored transfer of Jez Butterworth's highly-regarded Jerusalem, which recently concluded a
successful West End run, to Broadway soon, it will be interesting to see
if Billington's dismay is well-founded (though from all reports
Jerusalem is as realist as ... well, as August: Osage
County). Meanwhile, off-Broadway, MTC is now previewing the
American premiere of That Face, the Olivier-nominated debut
work from British playwright Polly Stenham.
Though Brantley (and the Times generally) has the reputation
of being somewhat Anglophilic, this Anglophilia I think has been rather
limited to only a few Brits — Tom Stoppard, Martin McDonough, and
perhaps a few others. Obviously it doesn't extend to Lucy Prebble; will it
extend to Butterworth and Stenham? Only the future can tell; in the
meantime, Billington's full article is here.
Home > Guardian
Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Good luck, theatre
UPDATE: David Mamet's response to
issue-oriented political theatre, published on Sunday in the
Guardian (an excerpt from his new book Theatre), makes additional cogent points
under the subhead "Parable of the cop and the drunk, or, the trouble
with political theatre":
[The] light is not good in the alley. And the alley is the
dark, hidden, forbidden human. A trip down into that alley, for the writer
or actor, may be disturbing, revolting, frightening — for that is
where the
monster of our self lives, and there we may find not only the falsity of
our constructed personality, but also the truth of our feverishly
suppressed perceptions.
The dark alley lies beyond the rational and, so, beyond the
conscious. To face the notions there, to entertain them, is dangerous. For
how may we value them? Are they the thoughts of madness? Will they be
acceptable to the public? Are they acceptable to the artist? They may not
be plotted upon a previously existing and accepted graph of values.
...
It is dark in the alley because we have removed the light
from those things we would much rather not examine. But the desire to
examine them, to bring them to light, to form the unformed thoughts into a
logical presentation, is the desire to create art. And the repressive
mechanism, just as it darkens the alley, also illuminates the
worthless.
As much as I admire some of his work (Edmond,
Oleanna, Glengarry Glen Ross, The Cryptogram
and his film adaptation of Rattigan's The Winslow Boy), I had
almost given up on Mamet, I admit, and perhaps this is the case
of a stopped clock being right twice a day. Nonetheless, the full excerpt
is here.
In today's Guardian piece "Can political theatre change the world?", Dan
Rebellato discusses the avalanche of explicitly political plays opening in
the United Kingdom as the election season gets under way. Rebellato has
written one himself, he says (And So Say All of Us, for Radio 3),
and considers the efficacy of political theatre in changing a political
culture:
A cynic would say that if you wanted to influence current
debate, the last thing you should do is put on a play. The most urgent
show about current politics, performed in the largest theatre in the
country twice daily until 6 May 2010, would still play to less than half
of 1% of the electorate — and that's making the dubious assumption
that you
sold every seat. ...
[We] routinely expect the theatre to change the world.
Sometimes I wonder if this isn't down to stubborn, residual puritanism: we
want the theatre to change the world because that would give it a reason
to exist. Beauty, pleasure, stories, metaphor — mere delights are
not good enough for us.
I wonder if the question that the title of the essay raises isn't, in
fact, the wrong question — if, moreover, the question itself doesn't
stack the deck in a way. All theatre is political in the sense that it is
created, is produced and presented, and operates within a culture's
existing economic, cultural and moral ideology: the beauty, pleasure,
stories and metaphor that Rebellato cites all have their political
dimensions (who determines beauty? is something a social or aesthetic
"good" just because it is pleasurable? and certainly stories and metaphor,
and those who create and distribute them, have political intent). And one
could dissect the politics behind yesterday's Pulitzer Prize drama award for weeks, as I'm sure the
blogosphere will.
But that's an implicit politics; what of agit-prop, theatre
directed specifically towards social change? One might ask Brecht if his
own political theatre changed the world, even as it operated within its
politics, first within Weimar, then during the 1940s, and finally during
the division of Germany during the Cold War. Did The Measures
Taken, his most explicitly, deliberately political play, lead to any
political revolution, or even play a small part in it? Otto Dix's 1924
cycle of lithographs Der Krieg (currently on view at the Neue Galerie through the end of August) is an
astonishing, often shocking indictment of modern warfare — and
within 15 years, the world would be embroiled in yet another war.
But there is "the world," and there is "a world." If a theatrical
experience has any effect, it is upon the perspective, the world, of the
individual audience member. Calls to mass political activity aside, real
change first occurs in the consciousness of the individual: a play which
speculates on different experiential and cultural possibilities for the
lone spectator, a play which speaks to that spectator, may lead to a new
view of the world and one's place in it — and suggest, finally, a
different way of acting in and reacting to that world, a manner which
might be reflected not only at the ballot box but also in the close
intimate relationships he or she continues to maintain in that culture.
One might suggest that this is personal, not political; but politics and
cultural expectation play a role in our interpersonal relationships as
well, the way we treat others, the recognition of others' suffering and
pleasures — the most intimate details of our private lives. Complex
questions all, with no simple answers (and simple answers are what
radical, progressive, conservative and reactionary politicians and
propagandists love best).
Theatre may not change "the
world." But it may change ourselves: each of our worlds, one at a
time.
More about political theatre here.
|
|
Superfluities
Redux home page
George Hunka
home page
theatre
minima home page
Theory and polemic
95 Sentences About Theatre (2007)
Organum I (2006-2007)
Organum
II (2008-2009)
Critique of
Tragedy (2010-continuing)
Notes
Howard Barker
1
Howard
Barker 2
Samuel
Beckett 1
Samuel
Beckett 2
Bertolt
Brecht
Richard
Foreman 1
Richard
Foreman 2
Je Suis
Sang
Sarah
Kane
Music
Marilyn
Nonken
Saint Oedipus
Contact
geh@panix.com
Copyright © 2003-2010 by George
Hunka
|