The LURE of Independent Theatre (gratitude to Mr. Miller)
I am always amazed, inspired and rejuvenated when involved in producing a play with artists who are dedicated to the theatre for a common good. In the theatre this good is sometimes stated but often only understood or felt on a lower membrane level. The actors, designers and participants might never communicate with one another why they are doing this thing they call a play. It will probably never be said, but it is the energy that moves them forward, creates innumerable experiences and, I would argue, gives many of us some sense of hope in a challenge of living that can often be filled with messages to the contrary. The walls are closing in but somehow when we reach opening night there is a glimmer of imperfect light at the end of the tunnel.
These actors and designers - the cast and crew - gather to make uncounted collective sacrifice that is rarely seen or discussed during the process or after. They sacrifice opportunities for income that will keep them alive and a roof over their heads. They sacrifice opportunities to gather with family and friends at weddings, funerals, and birthdays. They sacrifice untold hours of preparation outside of rehearsal to learn lines, research roles and share the activity with others in the community.
A more crass observer might say these were only self-interested individuals promoting their professional activity so they might advance in their profession. While the understandable human desire to advance professionally is present as a pre-text, the unliklihood of such progress would discourage even a snail from it's shell. The professional entertainment industry grazes infrequently in our fields. Another unspoken collective truth that furthers my admiration of the warriors who gather. We are bound together by not only the hope that we will succeed by also the collective recognition that it will not reward us greater than the experience itself. It is an inevitable disappointment. I know of no other professional activity that asks of all it's members such a prelude.
When I hear actors scoff at doing "free theatre" as if they had risen to a level above and beyond it's boundaries, I am reminded of the moments in such adventures when true art happens in the midst of this collective gift to our communities and then I know that we are engaged in a much greater , primitive joining of souls that has the power to renew individuals and restore their vision for the following day's challenges.
I am reminded of Rebecca Darke, who was first introduced to our company in her early 70's, having lived a life of sorrows and joys - a lifetime member of the Actors' Studio. I think of her magnificent grace in small roles in some short plays we produced. I think of the stunning disappointment when, at 80, she failed to recall her lines on evening when the NY Times was present for a two hander she had led. The crushing defeat she felt in her eyes of having disappointed a fellow actor. And I hear her mentioning to me, some 2 years later , that after a performance as the grandmother in Horton Foote's, The Trip to Bountiful, she mentioned to me, "I'm finally an actress." I am reminded of the gentlemen who left a letter in our hat after show, saying because of hard times the letter was all he could offer but our performance was what he looked forward to every day. I am reminded of the gentleman - missing teeth - who wait after each performance he sees of ours , records our autograph in his program, delivers copies of free newspapers with our listings in them and tells us we are the next Public theatre.
There is a kind of eternal frustration and disappointment that binds us in the theatre as we search for that light. But there is an experience of true collective joy when it's seen, the requisite envy at the seer, but nonetheless joy at its sight, that can remind us all that the predicament of the life is a shared one. We are still looking for the answers and only discoveries made with the depth of our joined hearts can show us the way.
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