by Robert Faires We’ve all suffered the bratty child: the child who is given a toy and, instead
of being thankful, demands more toys; who runs too fast and stumbles, then
blames the fall on the sidewalk, the sunlight, other children, anything but
himself; who is reprimanded in a mild voice and squeals as if beaten. I fear the Austin theatre community has become a bratty child.
It pains me to say this. I much prefer to use my space in these pages to
praise our theatre artists and their achievements on the stage. But once in a
while, some less- than-positive aspect of the theatre scene calls out to be
addressed in print. This is such a time.
I see our theatre community in the midst of what appears to be an epidemic of
self-absorption. Over the past several months, I’ve encountered an increasing
number of people whose field of vision seems to have narrowed to their own
company or the project in which they are currently engaged. They display no
apparent interest in any work but their own, and any occurrence in the
community is interpreted strictly in terms of its effects on their endeavors.
This would be bad enough by itself. Having a city of theatre artists focused
only on their own work undermines any sense of community that should exist
among those who share an interest in the art of the stage.
However, this current outbreak of self-absorption is made doubly insidious by
a seeming absence of internal criticism and a resistance to external criticism
in those whom it afflicts. I’ve been amazed this year by the number of theatre
people I’ve talked to who have avoided taking responsibility for any problems
in or adverse reactions to their work. It doesn’t matter if the topic is an
unfavorable review or low attendance, public funding or poor turnouts at
auditions, nearly everyone rushes to lay blame somewhere other than themselves:
The papers didn’t give us the right kind of press. The other theatres took our
audience. The funding process is weighted against us. The critics had their
minds made up before the show. The audiences only want to see fluff.
So far, this might sound like a tempest in a teapot. After all, these are
“show people,” a breed notorious for its narcissism, not to mention its love of
gossip and complaint. Which is true, and I must concede that in my 15 years
here, I’ve seen much cliquishness and carping, and several self-focused artists
with the credo, “If I do it, it must be good.”
But I maintain that something is different now. We have turned a corner. In
the past, the serious self-absorption was limited to a handful of individuals.
Most people, however cliquish, were open to the activities and opinions of
others. When they bitched and wailed, it was typically to salve a bruised ego
after a negative notice or failed audition or part of the show biz ritual of
dishing and trashing traditionally conducted in dressing rooms and at parties.
What has happened recently, though, is the moderate forms of self-interest and
grousing have been superseded by the most intense forms, and they’ve spread
throughout the scene, even to people once very involved in the community.
This new attitude has been most evident to me in a heightened response to
criticism, and I mean not just published criticism by myself and my colleagues
but all kinds of criticism, from remarks by Arts Commission peer
panelists to comments by colleagues and friends. I’m seeing more and more
theatre people meet any less than stellar evaluation of their work – even those
that couch a modest notice of imperfection amid bouquets of praise – with
exaggerated defensiveness. They adopt an air of indignation and may respond
with a sharp remark. There is a new vehemence in the air, the edgy tone of
people who feel they’re under attack, that they’re being truly persecuted.
Now, I grant you that this is a time of great challenges for the theatre.
Finding support just to keep on keepin’ on is difficult and draining. Trying to
expand, as many companies in town are doing – renovating facilities, increasing
pay for artists, building programs for playwrights, and so on – is staggering.
Connecting with audiences, particularly those for serious drama, is complicated
and frustrating. Some theatres are operating so close to the edge that one
poorly attended production could mean their end.
But while I’m sympathetic to the precariousness of producing theatre right
now, I do not feel that it excuses the withdrawal of companies and artists into
walled camps or outsized responses to negative comments. The fact of the matter
is that no one in this theatre community is being persecuted. No one is
attacking Austin’s theatre artists, forcing companies to shut down productions,
or jailing the individuals behind them. On the contrary, there is considerable
support for theatre here, arguably more now than ever, from the press, from
funders, from greater numbers of Austinites and more different kinds of
Austinites than any time previous. To respond to the people contributing that
support with harsh recriminations and finger-pointing is the act of a
bratty child.
I believe that if local theatre artists and companies are to survive this
trying period, and not only survive but prosper, they must win even greater
support from the people of this city by creating, as local producer and stage
advocate Don Howell likes to say, “theatre that astonishes.” We must develop
live drama of such vision and quality that it cannot be ignored, even by those
who have never seen a play. Now, you may believe we – or at least you – are
already doing that. To which I say, yes… sometimes. I don’t believe many of
us do it with consistency. I think a level of theatre that impresses with its
quality and energy show after show after show is still a goal for most in our
town.
And I cannot see any way for anyone here to achieve that level of work in the
current climate of defensiveness. Reaching that level requires looking closely
at one’s own efforts and measuring them with a steely eye. It requires being
honest about one’s shortcomings and devoting attention to improving what one
does and how one does it. After every production, even the successful ones,
each of us should ask: What could I have done better? How could I have made
this a more exciting project? How could I have helped bring more people to this
production and to theatre in general? Then we should take the answers to those
questions to the next project and apply them. We must approach each project not
as just another show but as a step forward in the march toward “theatre that
astonishes.”
At the same time that we turn our eyes inward, we should turn them outward, to
the work of our colleagues in the community. We should be watchful for work of
quality and applaud it for furthering the cause of theatre in this city. And we
should take the best of what we see and adopt it as a standard against which we
measure our own efforts and toward which we strive.
We will gain nothing from this present trend of self-absorption but
alienation. Each company will draw further from the rest and from anyone not
offering unqualified support, and each will lose some support: from artists,
from patrons, from the media. Some companies will fade, but that doesn’t mean
the survivors will truly thrive, and the community will certainly not benefit.
What makes this atmosphere of division and harshness so incongruous for the
artists of this particular discipline is that theatre is a collaborative art.
Everyone who has ever taken part in a production knows it cannot succeed unless
all the elements – design, direction, performance, technical support – work
together. This is no less true offstage than on. For theatre of any kind to
thrive in this city, all members of the community must work in unity. We must
hang together or we shall surely hang separately.
There are a lot of things that could be said to be “wrong” with Austin
theatre. But none of them – I don’t care whether it’s the city funding process
or lack of a good 500-seat house or paucity of rehearsal space or slipshod
marketing or weak corporate support or the idea that audiences don’t like
serious work or the damn critics – can be addressed effectively without a
change in the attitude that’s spread through the community lately. I feel
everything that’s wrong begins with us, and you`re welcome to dismiss my ideas
as one man’s ravings. I just hope you take a hard look in the mirror before you
do. n
This article appears in June 9 • 1995 and June 9 • 1995 (Cover).