Monday, November 7, 2011

Good Theatre & Teaching Philosophy All Rolled Into One

I wrote this recently and while it is a little less polished than it should be, I had a lot of revelations about my thoughts on theatre and teaching theatre that I think are important to share.






As a working theatre artist, my philosophy on teaching is deeply intertwined with my philosophy about theatre as an institution. Thus, let me quickly outline my thoughts on what makes good theatre.



First, good theatre is truly collaborative. By this I mean it is more than a few artists coming together to make one artistic piece. True theatrical collaboration is about a few artists coming together to influence each other’s work and input in creating one cohesive artistic piece. In order to do this, a scenic designer must not only welcome suggestions from the lighting designer about, say, what material is used to build the set in order to facilitate an interesting look scenically and through light, but also know enough to suggest specific alternative footwear to the costume designer if the deck poses trouble for an actor who is supposed to appear barefoot. Furthermore, I believe truly collaborative theatre allows the designers to work alongside, rather than subordinately, with the director so that all ideas can and will be considered.


Second, good theatre is more than the final product and the bottom line. While it is important to create a product that will garner recognition enough to get the proverbial “bums in seats,” theatre cannot be an example of “the ends justify the means.” Theatre is an art form that has allowed countless playwrights, directors, designers, actors, and audience members explore society from new and engaging ways. When we answer “Why are we doing this show?” with answers like “It is a crowd-pleaser” or “It will make money” we are not doing the art justice. As theatre artists we must engage with the production from start to finish, finding the important reasons to tell any story, from Oklahoma! to Orpheus Descending, from The Cherry Orchard to The Little Mermaid. Furthermore, theatre is a living, breathing art-form. It changes in the design, rehearsal, and performance process because of the many different people—including the audience—that are a part of making it happen. Good theatre and good theatre-artists recognize that not only are the public performances important, but also the journey from conceptualization to realization.



Lastly, good theatre is vital to our society. Sadly, theatre’s popularity is rapidly dwindling in the face of the instant, often-free media offered up by our ever-wired life in the twenty-first century. Too often theatres face concerns over the rising age of their dwindling audiences. Nevertheless, as theatre artists we know that theatre is important. Why else would we be in the business? But, more than that, good theatre is important. As hinted above, it is easy to look at theatre as merely a money-making operation and pander to many audience’s desires to be transported from their mundane lives by special effects and happy endings. While there are some truly remarkable plays and productions that do happen to have those elements, more often than not, much of that theatre is Peter Brook’s definition of deadly theatre. Historically accurate, devoid-of-life productions of Shakespeare for the Canon’s sake. Ridiculous farces that make the audience laugh but leave them with hardly a new thought in their head about life. But good theatre, vital theatre, is more often the spark that reignites the people’s passion for our art. Productions of August: Osage County, Ruined, Next to Normal, Spring Awakening, Rent, The Lion King, to name a few, all brought audiences back to the theatre through gripping stories or amazing theatrical magic (or both). And all of those productions of good theatre proved to artists and audiences alike that good theatre is a vital, unmatched way of dissecting and understanding our world. Only through this live, collaborative art form can the audience commune in real-time with living, breathing, nearby people on and off stage. Through these types of productions theatre becomes, even for an instant, important again.



Now, how does this translate into my teaching philosophy? Do I envision myself using my role as teacher and mentor to grandstand about these points on theatre? No. My passion to be an artist who makes and takes part in good theatre drives me to be an inspiring and demanding teacher of theatre. I want to give my students the tools to define good theatre for themselves and know how they can contribute to that theatre if they choose to pursue it as a career.



Theatre as a collaborative art form is most directly applicable to my work as a teacher. While I was more than content to work solo on projects during my time as a student, group work and discussions allowed me to grow the most as a critical thinker and artist. As a teacher I translate my desire to bounce ideas off of people into encouragement of a collaborative way of learning and, thus, creating art. As a design professor I envision projects that mimic the collaborative process of designing with 2 (or more) other designers and even a director. This teaches students about the process of designing, and encourages a growth in communication and public-speaking skills. It also can create the space for students to learn about very important traits as a collaborative artist: humility and compromise. Undergraduate theatre students often have the most exciting ideas about art (because they don’t know what is “impossible” yet) but also have the most challenges either overcoming or building up their egos. A good theatre teacher will nurture the exciting possibilities that the untested artist brings to the table while identifying which students need to learn how to step back and those that need encouragement to step forward in sharing ideas about a given project.



My second assertion that theatre is more than the final product and the bottom line is more in line with my philosophy on (theatre) education as a whole. It speaks to the question of what is more important, the process or the product. Many of the educational institutions I have had contact with have struggled with this concept. It is easy to say on paper that the theatre department is committed to the process of putting on a show, but, when push comes to shove, the product takes precedence over the process because of ticket sales or institutional oversight. I firmly believe that my role as a theatre teacher and mentor is to highlight the process as a learning opportunity for the student as student and as artist. In her book The Creative Habit, Twyla Tharp asserts that the best productions for her have been critical failures because she learned the most from them as an artist. Through critical evaluation of the artistic work during and after the process, I wish to instill in young artists critical thinking both for their own, their peers’, and their mentors’ work. As well as encourage them to see that the act of making art is as vital as the final artistic product.



Furthermore, as a woman in a male-dominated area of theatre with an underprivileged childhood, I personally have struggled to define what the process of design is for me. As a teacher I not only expose my students to the traditional design process as discussed by the forefathers of design (Robert Edmund Jones, Adolph Appia, Lee Simonson), but also encourage students to define their own process based on how they artistically interpret and experience space. During my time at UNCG I was fortunate enough to read and discuss new design pedagogy, including that of veteran theatre professor Richard Isaacks of UT Austin. He has challenged the script as the sole jumping off point for design, instead creating exercises that force students to create the visual narrative and then apply it to the written word. As an artist I’ve challenged myself to break out of the process in this way with great and eye-opening results. As a teacher I aim to challenge my students to approach design from every angle and to question not only what they are choosing but why they are choosing it to represent the world of the play. This ties directly into my paper on the intersection of feminist theory and the design process, which is less about a gendered approach to design but more about the individual’s response and synthesis of their world into the picture created for the stage and what role that plays in creating meaning for the actors and the audience.


Finally, as a student of theatre for seven years I was painfully aware of the professors that no longer cared about our art. I worked with professors who had been in academic theatre for so long that they were out of touch with the current trends in theatre and only viewed the art form through an academic lens. While academic theatre can be vital, it is often too bounded by curriculum and community desires to challenge its audiences and artists. As a theatre teacher I believe it is important to continue to work professionally. This not only allows me to continue to grow as an artist, but keeps me up to date with artistic and thematic trends that my students will face as they pursue a career in theatre. I aim to mentor them on their theatre, not merely my own.