Acts: Three, Two, One

I'm in the midst of writing a play in three acts. My last play was a one-act full-length (came in at about an hour and fifteen minutes) and the preceding it was three short acts. Most of the time, the act structure I choose is based on preference and contect. "The Death of King Arthur" was a five act play because is aped Shakespeare, for example. "The Americans" was a full-length one act because it was three characters speaking in monologue, and didn't sustain a broken up act structure.

That being said, I'm curious if the three act (or more) structure is really one that has much future on the stage. Audience are more and more used to watching a performance at an average of 90 minutes without a break. Theatre companies look for ways to appeal to the audiences of today, and a two-act structure seems to suit them fine: one intermission fuels concessions and chatter and bathroom breaks. Do two intermissions make for an unorthodox experience?

I'm curious what other writers and producers out there think about the choice of structure for a writer. Is it impolitic or naive to insist on a larger number of acts, even if it goes against the grain of what audiences are used to or what is best for the box office? Or should we simply follow our impulses as to what is "in the play" and let the chips fall where they may?

Open question. Comments are appreciated below, as always.

Ted Kennedy... as usual my favorite Senator of All

A quote from the New York Times that says it all about "Scalito."

''Rather than selecting a nominee for the good of the nation and the court, President Bush has picked a nominee whom he hopes will stop the massive hemorrhaging of support on his right wing. This is a nomination based on weakness, not strength.'' -- Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, D-Mass.

More on Indie Theater

Joshua James, ultimate fighter and playwright, has written a very sharp post about the cost of doing business in NYC, Indie Theater or no. Check it out here.

"Indie Theater" and "Church"

Two very interesting and different views of theatre can be found at Theatre Ideas and the Nytheatre i. In one, Kirk Wood Bromley discusses (with responses) the idea of transforming the term "Off-Off Broadway" into "Indie Theater." Over on Theatre Ideas, Scott Walter's suggests a new model of theater that broadly resembles Church. I won't repost their comments here (go read them on the links above) but I'd like to comment on each.

Bromley's idea is, as far as I understand it, that we do away with the old term "Off-Off Broadway" and adopt "Indie Theater" to remove the pejorative stigma that comes with being "So Very Not Broadway." He also takes great pains to define it as more than just a rebranding. His ideal for the phrase is that Indie Theater is theater that is artist (as opposed to producer) driven; that embraces the freedom that low financial risk and little financial reward can provide.

On a gut level, this has a lot of merit. I've happily spread the term in the past, as I'd heard that comment passed along from Kirk before. I think it's good for the ego, good for our public, and promotes the idea that freedom from money isn't always the same thing as being poor in art.

I am, though, entirely comfortable with this as a rebranding "as such." As opposed to applying a litmus test to make sure the label has merit ("Was the producer too involved to call this Indie?") we could simply leave Off-Off alone and start calling it Indie Theatre. I think that Off-Off Broadway would already be widely accepted as Independent when you consider that neither the Schuberts nor Disney are involved. And frankly, the language police won't be able to keep up with the term if it spreads.

The term "alternative" comes to mind from the mid-90s. Alternative Music sprung up from Seattle Grunge and became the mainstream. The sound of the bands was still labelled "alternative" because it was a response to what was popular before these bands hit the charts. One week it was Michael Jackson, the next Nirvana and suddenly "Alternative" was popular.

Once something becomes popular, is it still "Alternative?" Of course not. But who was there to tell anyone differently? No one with a voice loud enough to keep the word from spreading.

That's why I think "Indie Theater" is simply the perfect name to adopt in order to raise awareness of, pride in, and the popularity of "Off-Off Broadway" as it is. If shows hit Broadway and that have that "Indie" feel, no harm in it. What we create is a sense that there is something on the small stages in New York that is worth seeing for less than $50 a head; and frankly, that's all I feel is truly missing.

Scott Walters is doing less evangelizing than Kirk: he's asking us to rethink the "current model." He suggests that when theater is treated as a commodity to be bought and sold, it simply doesn't have the economic efficiency to carry that burden. He suggests we look at Church as a new model, as Church builds a community, is free, asks for donation, doesn't sell tickets. It attracts it's audience through word of mouth, the idea that something imperative is going on, and asks at the appropriate time for an infusion of material support from those who can afford it.

Scott's question is, will it work?

Well, the concept is beautiful, but it depends entirely on one's ability to create that community. In New York, the community would be large, but it is spread so thin from competing productions, a glut of artists, that I'm not sure a sustainable producing model can come from any one company relying on a sense of community and donations alone. I think the model may work better for regionals, though, than it does here.

Another question I have for this new model is "Would it be sustainable to support Equity Actors?" The logistics are a bit foggy.

What works, though, about the concept is that it is looking for a way to bring audiences in the door and it is looking outside the regular model with an eye on a model that already exists and works.

Scott and Kirk's ideas seem rather far apart, of course: Kirk is writing mostly for the New York community and its dilemma, and Scott has a broader and more academic approach. What I think is strikingly similar here, though, is that both seem to find the idea of pure marketing a bit distasteful.

What is it about simply saying "we need to sell more tickets and here is a way to do it" that makes theater artists, especially the most earnest of us, so incredibly uncomfortable?

"Scooter" resigns and is toast

A fine reason not to elect a jackass frat boy to the White House: we have to use his friggin' nicknames in the actual News. "Scooter" is not a grown up name.

Nonetheless, screw him. Let him burn.

Joy.

Harriet Miers Runs For It

So long Harriet Miers. Hello Lame Duck Presidency.

This one's a plus and a minus, honestly. Will Bush nominate someone who will please conservatives with their radical views, or a moderate that continue to show his fear of a Democratic backlash.

He's screwed either way and there's a good reason: he's invested a great deal of his "political capital" into screwing Democrats at every turn, and now that his own party is turning away from his failed policies, he's a goner. He's got no one out there that supports him.

Looking more like Nixon every day.

If the indictments come down today (and they very well should) then we may be looking at this day as the day Bush's presidency finally went up in flames.

If only this had happened in the first term.

A little note from my Father

My father was reading over my blog and sent a few comments that I wanted to share. Not only because they're illuminating, but because he's my Dad.

A while back, there was some discussion about transubstantiation, and whether or not something of merit happens when an audience is present or isn't. I think it came from Scott Walter's intitial posts about Theatre and Religion, and George Hunka and I had a little back and forth. My father speaks about this, and also Rosa Parks.

Been reading some of your blogs.. interesting stuff. Comment on a couple...
the one about religion and theater and the conversation about
transubstantiation etc.... Good Anglican theology is in fact that unless
there are at least two people present, nothing has happened. That is, as a
priest, I am the one authorized on behalf of the church to bless the bread
and wine... but if I do it all by myself... it wasn't the body and blood of
Christ. We differ from the Romans in that by the way... .their priests do
individual masses all the time, with noone else there.... we see that as a
kind of magic, that we don't believe in.
   My hunch is that the writer was trying to make some point about there
being an objective reality to spiritual things, whether believed in or not
(if God exists, then God is present whether one believes in God or not...
the difference will be in the experience of the situation by the believer or
non-believer). Karl Jung had something like that written over the lintel of
his home -- "bidden or not bidden, the gods will be here."
   But Anglican theology has always seen the eucharist and other sacraments
as functions of humanity's innate connection to one another....

Re; Rosa Parks... I never met her, but you probably know that I bodyguarded
for MLK in a parade in Boston one day. I walked along beside the car he was
in, me on one side another guy on the other like secret service guys do. we
were supposed to jump in front of him if someone had a gun....
   Now that I think of it... what was I thinking??!
   Well I know what I was thinking, really, it was a time when a lot of us
realized that we needed to stand up and be counted.

Thanks for sending that in, Pops.

Thoughts on Civility and Attack

A more thorough response to Scott Walters recent post on Theatre Ideas. The one I wrote on his blog last night was a bit quick and dirty, and perhaps a little too glib.

Scott breaks down his objections to other's critiques of his recent posts one at a time but ends with what I think I will term his "key graf:" (I actually made little quotation mark signs with my fingers after I typed that)

Listen, I am not against art that provokes. I think we needed the provocative art of the 60s and 70s as a way of breaking us out of the complacency of the 1950s. But today's mass media is filled with hostility. We are constantly yelled at on TV, the internet, magazines, newspapers about environmental damage, the economic destruction of the global economy, the increasingly wide gap between rich and poor. We are constantly told, at least implicitly, that changing things is impossible, that idealism is stupid, that competition beats cooperation, that capitalism red in tooth and claw benefits everyone, that the spiritual is nonsense, that personal piece is impossible and undesirable. 2005 is not the Leave It to Beaver world of the 1950s, one that needed to be shaken up. Today, we are shaken up hourly, to the point where we no longer notice that we are shaking. Maybe if we want to attract attention, we need to stop shaking, not shake harder.

And closes with a sort of open ended, wide eyed question:

Is that so objectionable? Why are we so very much attached to attack?

I think I've made a bit of a mistake about what I thought Scott was trying to say previously. It's been my impulse to take him to take for trying to tell artists what he thought they should do. I think, more accurately, he's expressing exhaustion. He thinks that people can hear us anymore, no matter what we say, if we join in on the "noise."

There is something unique to our time, about the constant barrage of information. How we walk around with our cell phone, music, e-mail, video games all in one small device, hooked up to our ear. It's the age of competeing 24 hour news coverage, of constantly updated blogs, of screaming from the right and negotiation on the left.

What's amazing, too, is that the level of discourse has dropped considerably. We speak in sound bites, the rhetorical version of McDonald's cheeseburgers. Just read some of the letters and speeches of "The Founding Fathers" and compare them to one or two speeches of our current President to see the brutal leap backwards we've made. We hear more and more noise, and that noise has less and less to say.

Scott seems to be responding to this, more than anything else. And I would say that he's in the right business.

He's in theatre.

That's one of the things that may save us, gentlemen and women. We are in an industry that expressly says "Come and sit down and be quiet and turn off your cell phone and be with other people." Unlike film where the movie can overwhelm the senses, invite conversation, and the actors can't hear you or respond to you; theatre is a place where our senses are heightened and we are very, very aware of one another. It's a place that I feel will become more and more attractive (if we make it so) to people who feel, I'm sure, very much like Scott does: that they can't get away from the awful clanging and banging of todays 24 hour mediastream.

So while I disagree with Scott that the solution is to change the plays in order to appeal to people that want a little less conflict; I think we all need to take heart. We're standing in the oasis, and we just need to get a sign to those in the desert that says "Water here."

The Death of Rosa Parks

A few rambling thoughts about Rosa Parks...

Rosa Parks died yesterday at the age of 92.

When I was growing up in Maplewood, New Jersey in the 1980s, the neighborhood was a diverse and affluent suburb. My good friend Marcus Johnson had a black father and white mother; I had friends who were Asian; one of my best friends was Jewish; my next door neighbor and still one of my closest friends, Josh Izzo, was, and still is, Italian. In my family alone, there are two adopted children, my sister Kate and my brother Michael, both Korean.

When I first learned of the Civil Rights Movement, it was in that very town. I lived there from Kindergarten until the 5th grade, formative years. While as I've grown older, I've come to judge the complacency and affluence of commuter towns like Maplewood, it gave me a grand delusion that I will hold with me forever: that the Civil Rights Movement was a success of the past. That we were living in its afterglow, where racism was something of a bygone era.

It wasn't until I moved to rural Pennsylvania, in 1988, that I ever heard the word "Nigger." When I did, I was sure that someone just hadn't phoned the people of Boyertown and told them that they were 20 years late in their worldview. I came to understand that I was mistaken, and that Boyertown was probably far more representative of this growing, aching nation than it should have been.

I thought of Martin Luther King as my personal hero and role model (in the 3rd grade, most likely), but I found the story of Rosa Parks less instantly inspiring. MLK stood up and told the world about his dream with eloquence and passion that could inspire a child. It took me a few more years to understand what kind of bravery it took for Rosa Parks to do what she did.

Now, I often hear a call to reassess the point we have reached in relations between the races in this melting pot. There are some clear successes and some subtle failures. The images of New Orleans show the unspoken truth of racial inequality; that it is not only displayed in the open prejudic of a bigot. Racial inequality is the product of systemic lack of access; of subtle distinctions between characters based on the color of their skin. In our age of "multiculturalism" who hasn't said that a certain way of talking is "black" and another way is "white?" And don't think I'm only pointing the finger at one race: it has become an epidemic. Confusingly, this broad labeling of behavior and culture by way of race has also come as the races grow ever closer in population and in economic access.

In a liberal education and liberal mindset (such as mine), we often write off racial inequality to a numbers game. We say that disparities in the performance of different races is economic. On the other side, we find an open disdain for a conversation of inequality as systemic. We find a belief that only work and achievement, on their own, creates equality. Both sides have their strengths, and their blinders.

This is why the image of Rosa Parks is one that is more necessary than ever. She was not a warrior or a disciple of a worldview. She was a Christian, a working woman, and she was trying to make her way through Alabama in the an era of social change. She became symbol for a movement, and no rhetoric could ever rise to the power of her simple refusal to move.

The important truth is that he was not truly defiant: she was exhausted. What could be more exhausting than acquiescence? What could be more exhausting than a life in the shadow of bigotry?

We should remember, from her, that sometimes its not the fight that wins the day, its the refusal to accept something false or intolerable. She teaches us that was have free will, a choice as to how we will approach our small choices. She didn't shout, or hammer a ploughshare into a sword. She showed the honesty that only exhaustion can bring; an honesty that said "I will no longer participate in something that harms me."

We should remember the most important lessons of Rosa Parks and that increasingly distant time:

There is no difference between one human being and another except what the world as placed on their shoulders.

How we carry our burden is what defines us, no matter how small that burden may appear.

There is no such thing as a small act of beauty.

Paraphrasing: A Defense

Ty has the good grace to call this post Heresy. Worth a read.

The Responsibility of the Artist

Over at Theatre Ideas, there's a little chatter about what an artist "should" do. Scott talks a fair amount about how artists have a sort of finite amount of trust from their audience, and that if we aren't careful, we loose their trust and therefore lose our ability to speak to them.

There's a fantastic response to this already at Parabasis here. But I'd like to throw in my two cents.

Scott, as usual, speaks of artists suspiciously, sets standards for them, accuses them of being rapists (figuratively) and begs them to just think of the children.

Each artist has a distinct responsibility that he or she chooses on his or her own, just as an human being chooses what they care about and believe in. If one artist feels that they are responsible for shaking up the middle class and presenting them with pictures of violently tortured religious figures or the Virgin Mary defecating in a bucket; they should follow that impulse as far as they can and never look back. If another feels they want to promote universal tolerance, love and understanding; they should do the same. It is more dangerous for artists to "check" their impulses in favor of good taste or the need for the audience to be comfortable than it is for each artist to have a personal vision, distinct from the others, and carry it through.

There are a lot of plays out there that I think are rubbish. That doesn't mean they shouldn't have been written. The more the merrier. We can debate quality all we like; but I think talking about what artists should be considering as they go about their work is wrong-headed. Without full freedom to express, learn form, and use form, as they see fit, artists are just mirrors of expectation. Their voices become the voices they think the audience wants or needs to hear.

The sole responsibility of the artist is to ask questions or make statements as beautifully or as brutally as they can, in their chosen medium. I think that's burden enough.

A writing room

Last night I fiddled with a video game, listened to the BBC, ironed some shirts, watched a DVD and talked to my girlfriend. I did all this in one room, my bedroom, which doubles as a living room.

Living in New York, space is tight and so is money. I'm not sure how it is elsewhere or what some of you have done to earn extra cash.

I am, though, considering renting a writing room. I need a separate space to write it... the internet/tv/radio/phone is a combination of rather flashy distractions. If I pay for a space, then maybe I will treat it as an office and work on the plays in the way I should be.

Beats moving.

Has anyone else considered this?

This is not funny

Seriously. It's not.

I mean, not really.

Ok, it's hilarious.

No, I'm kidding. It's awful.

But seriously, you can't make this stuff up.

Sad though.

Patrick Fitzgerald Sets Up A Website

In today's War Room at Salon.com, they noted that Patrick J. Fitzgerald has just set up a website (linked above.) Why would would he do that if he was just about to pack it up and go home?

I'm feeling an old-fashioned legal fist fight coming. Bare knuckles. Nixon style.

Plame's the name we're going to remember. I bet Scooter Libby and Pig-Mask Rove wish they never leaked it.

Hooker Lane

Oh come on. It's hilarious. If I lived on Hooker Lane with my girlfriend, I'd constantly be talking about pimping my ride and telling her to make me some money.

Don't worry, she already makes more money than I do. We both know who wears the pants. She's always patting me on the butt and telling me to make myself pretty for her.

The whole point is: have fun with it, people. You live on Hooker Lane. Stop whining.

I hope this post made at least one person incredibly uncomfortable.

The Godfather / The Ultimate Vanity

On George Hunka's blog, he does a rundown of his recent wave of praise and of the comings and goings around the tiny scene. What I find lovely is that after being praised for keeping the theatrical blogsphere aware of itself, he goes on to do precisely that. Can't even help it.

He does, though, attempt to deflect my "Godfather of the Theatrical Blogsphere" line.

Hunka, you misunderstand. I mean it in the way that one might mean "Godfather of Soul."

Now... Get On Up! Get on the scene-a. Get on the scene-a.

Ahem. Enough of that James Brownishness. We're writing about theatre here. Turn on something classical before I start having fun.

And on that note: Theatre Ideas posted from Denver today, regarding the "purpose of playwrighting" issue. As usual, all of this is entirely subjective. I'm sure some playwrights think of themselves as makers of meaning, and others think of themselves as bookbinders. Shakespeare thought he was a businessman; Andrew Lloyd Webber thinks he's a composer. So it goes with self-awareness, such as it is.

Now that's established my opinion as pointless, I'll give it: I still have no idea what "making meaning" really is. Meaning doesn't come from the writer, it comes from the person observing. I get choked up when I watch Sam pick Frodo up on his shoulder in Lord of the Rings. My girlfriend says "Which one of them is Frodo?" That scene has great meaning for me. The scene itself is shown to both of us, and we find the meaning for ourselves.

Scott asks if playwrighting itself isn't the "ultimate vanity" when he's pressed on the idea that "making meaning" is vain itself. I would say there are far greater evidences of vanity than expressing oneself; if anything it's a far more generous form of vanity than others one might find. Running for public office requires far greater vanity than writing a play, especially a good play, which I think requires a great deal of humbleness and honesty. Humbleness and honesty will only get a person elected to the school board, if that.

Playwrights (and novelists and poets) are open to charges of vanity only because our society so rarely sees a desire to express as a generous act. Neither Scott nor Allison Croggon are being fair to one another by making the assumption that within expression, inherently, is a sense of self-importance. If a person feels self important (Tony Kushner) or not (Kafka, Emily Dickinson) they can still express powerful truths. Vanity is not inherent to expression. If you are vain, your writing will have that quality. If you are passionate or earnest or shy, it will reflect that. The truth will out in the work itself.

Whether we choose to "make meaning" or "tell stories" is really what makes us distinct artists from one another. I would write a play differently than Scott or Allison, I'm sure, which is precisely as it should be.

Tom Delay is all smiles in his Mugshot

Glorious. Tom Delay is booked, and above is his mugshot. Love that he took it like an actor takes a headshot. Like he's saying: "This isn't really a mugshot."

And of course, they just knew this mugshot would be all over the internet and in newspapers in seconds. In posts like this one.

Glorious.

The NRA's Legislation Passes

Today, the House of Representative voted to protect gun manufacturers from the law suits that have and could arise when their products are used "improperly" during a crime. Then, in the article posted as a link in the title of this post, the claim is made that what happened in Katrina illustrates how important it is for the population to be armed.

It seems almost ridiculous to make this argument but:

1) Katrina proved more than anything that people shouldn't be able to walk into a K-Mart and get a gun
2) Guns aren't being used "improperly" during crimes. They are being used as weapons, which is their purpose.
3) If you make a product that is expressly used to shoot things or people; you should be ready for the consequences of that action. If you can't absorb a lawsuit or the risk that your product won't kill someone, maybe you should sell sweaters.

Amazing how the Bush agenda is stalled across the board, but the House (including many Democrats) can still find time to put corporate interests and powerful lobbyists above our lives.

Superfluities and Theatre Blogs

I was noting Parabasis today and his expression that he feels a part of the old guard (with an 18 month old blog) and his praise of George Hunka, the godfather of the theatrical blogsphere.

I wanted to note here that George was the first person to welcome me to the small blogging community and that although he and I recently expressly disagreed I have the utmost respect for him and his constant stream of academically-charged and serious-minded work. His current post regarding 4:48 Psychosis is a fine example of his generosity.

It's a rare thing for me to be able to find cause to write the word "Brecht" in the middle of an afternoon while I'm working as I did here. Or for me to find a fellow playwright in Joshua James who likes a little raucous arguement almost as much as he likes people getting kicked in the face. And then of course there's Scott Walters, who seems to be enjoy having a steady supply of cans from which worms fly.

So, in the midst of yet another quiet afternoon looking at a computer screen, trying to figure out the second act of "The Most Wonderful Love," pondering how to get an agent, and paying the bills while working in something called "the life settlement industry" I wanted to tip my hat to all of you fellows and to anyone who reads this little blog. Fun to be had, all around. If I'm not old guard, I hope the old guard is happy to have the neophytes around. This one's happy to be a source of amusement (Scott) and to be disagreed with heartily (George.)

Off to the races.

Poem from the Writer's Almanac / War in Iraq

My buddy Matt T. alerted me to this poem that's sent out through the Writer's Almanac. Fantastic. Read this and enjoy.

Of Presidents & Emperors

Comparing our imperial leader today to Nero,
whose troops were also engaged in occupation
of Parthian lands along the Euphrates, with about
the same luck as today, we surely must temper
our judgments, forgive a few lies and lives lost,
give thanks that most of the deaths are uncounted,
and not ours. After all, our leader did not murder
his mother. He and she are on excellent terms.

Nero murdered his wife Octavia, also Poppaea,
his second, by kicking her while she was pregnant
with his child, guaranteed divinity. In Washington
you see no such abominations. The lies are genteel
and murder is at the far end of Pathfinders,
Tomahawks, gun ships and Patriot missiles.
Back home we can thank our stars that tribunes
and freed gladiators do not arrive bearing swords
and platters for heads. And because Congress
consists of the deferential they would never be at risk.
Our leader needs not assassinate sassy senators.

He would never set fire to Washington or build
an ostentatious mansion like Nero's over the ruins.
As a God-fearing Christian he would never thank
Jupiter for throwing javelins of fire at his enemies,
nor would he go on tour to read his poems or play
his harp in the provinces. Yet for his speeches
our President gets as much applause as Nero,
whose soldiers prodded those who nodded off.

In the Oval Office no visitor is obliged to fall upon
knees and weary the President's hand with kisses.
Yet the fear Tacitus expressed could be voiced today.
He worried that such "a monotony of disasters"
as those ordered by Nero might, if recited, disgust all
who heard them. He preferred not to sicken his readers
lest they be "fatigued of mind and paralyzed with grief."
In Rome thousands like us could only pray for relief.

"Of Presidents & Emperors" by David Ray from The Death of Sardanapalus and Other Poems of The Iraq Wars. © Howling Dog Press.