Tenders in the Fog Opens

I've been around, really. I caught four SF Fringe shows in two days, and, I must say, I lucked out, as three of them were quite good. I also caught The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, Part 1 at Cal Shakes--on a Tuesday night, no less. (It's a three-hour play, for those who don't know.) It was fabulous; I was particularly struck by the actor playing Smike. Who's that guy? I wondered. A look in the program...a nonlocal, of course. Clifton Guterman, out from Atlanta. He's also appearing in the upcoming world premiere at Berkeley Rep, Finn in the Underworld. Seems he had been in an earlier reading, and it just so happened that Berkeley Rep was doing the play right when he was already in town.

While I was at the Fringe, Liebe Wetzel of the fab Lunatique Fantastique caught up with me: "Theatre widow," she said. It was true. Trevor has been rehearsing in San Jose for most of September, leaving me to my own devices six days or nights a week. Not that I could get away with much--he had the car! I was getting the hang of the one-car family until now.

Anyway, after much drama (it is theatre after all), Tenders in the Fog opens this week at San Jose Stage. Kent Nicholson, the best new play director in town (at least), helms the production, and there's a fabulous cast. Also, San Jose Rep built the set--apparently they build quite a few sets for neighboring companies. Well, that rocks because SJ Rep has one of the best shops in the Bay Area. Trev's been telling me great tidbits about dry ice, microphones set to reverb and a specially composed soundscore. You'll just have to take my word that this is going to be cool--even more so because I haven't even been to one rehearsal! I was going to try to catch one to see the famed Kent Nicholson in action, but scheduling just didn't work out. The only time I went down to San Jose with Trev was to drop him off at rehearsals one weekend so I could take the car to do laundry and some grocery shopping. All the way to San Jose to do laundry!

And how much have we spent on gas this month so far? Drum roll: $140. It's gonna be a great show!

Local Theatre Helps Hurricane Victims

Today's Chronicle includes an article about local arts companies who are holding benefits of one kind or another throughout the month for hurricane victims. Pink Pages editor Joe Brown also posted about it on Culture Blog.
Joe was kind enough to give me a callout, basically for sending out word to the local theatre community that the Chron was looking for info. But, like I commented on his post, the real callouts go to the Chron for helping get the word out about hurricane relief and to the local theatre community for having these benefits to begin with. In many cases, these companies stepped up right away, donating money this weekend or arranging benefits in the next couple of weeks. Many of these companies struggle under funding cuts and other challenges in this downturned economy, yet they always step up to help those in need. They truly are an asset to the Bay Area and beyond.

A Stranger Response

OK, I promised ya'll a response to The Stranger column that JB brought to our attention. Well, this probably won't be a response as much as more musings or free associations.
First, let's review some key points from David Schmader's column (apologies in advance for copyright infringement, but this is for educational purposes, ha):

"Thus commenced the conception of theater attendance as an inherently valuable and rewarding endeavor (whether the audience realized it or not) and the transformation of the theatrical experience from a viable popular entertainment into a chore."
"If theater is inherently good, any failure to appreciate examples of that form is foisted onto the audience. After experiencing a theatrical event whose preordained value doesn't translate into anything resembling pleasure, audience members may be tempted to blame themselves for the lack."

The writer is coming at this from the audience point of view, but some of his language echoes what I encounter during my daytime hours. To battle state funding cuts at the California Arts Council, we ("we" in general) gathered data that indicated that the arts pumped money into the economy. After a couple of years, and because that obviously didn't work anyway, RAND suggested we talk about the intrinsic value of the arts. That is, "theatre is good." "You have unique experiences at the theatre." And one of my favorites, "When you watch theatre, you realize that your seeing something unique. There will never be a performance exactly like the one you saw." That sounds so great until you think, "When I stood on the corner of Eddy and Taylor and saw a guy pissing in the street, I knew I was never going to see a sight exactly like that. I may see a guy piss in the street on another day, but it won't be the same guy in the exact same spot at the same time of day. And, he certainly wouldn't have drunk that much beer."

Now, let's get one thing straight: I'm not comparing theatre to a guy pissing in the street. I'm saying that the statement that a performance is unique doesn't mean it's a good unique experience. So, when we talk about intrinsic value, we have to be careful of exactly what we're saying. In fact, how much value is a "unique" experience anyway? I don’t have to go to the theatre to have unique experiences. And, like the above quote suggests, it puts the weight of the experience on the audience member: Oh god, this is supposed to be a unique experience. I'm supposed to be moved because there are actors right in front of me, sweating, and it looks really emotional, but I'm just not into it. What's wrong with me?

This is where I pause, because I'm not an ordinary audience member. I see a lot of theatre. It's my job to see a lot of theatre, so yeah, it's a chore sometimes. OK, moretimes. But, last night I saw The Overcoat. Before the show, as I was walking to Foley's (as usual), I thought: "I'm actually looking forward to this. It sounds like an interesting show. We haven't seen a show quite like this in a while, a play without dialogue that's based on a short story, with movement set to Shostakovich. And (here's the important part), I don’t have to review it. It's a touring company, so I'm not going because I have to see someone in it that I'm going to write about, or because I know the director, or because…." I can't remember the last time I went to a play with that light feeling, that feeling of a little anticipation. Instead of the feeling that I had to be able to write intelligently about the show afterward, or that I had to come up with some really funny remarks at intermission for my fellow critics/writers, oh the stress. Now, The Overcoat didn't blow me out of the water. (The show that blew me out of the water was SITI Company's Bob. Nothing has topped it since for me.) But it was one of the best shows I've seen in a long while.

But the thing is, we don’t just ask our audiences to enjoy the show, or think it was one the best shows they've seen in a while. We ask them to translate that feeling to the notion that they had a truly unique experience. An experience that profoundly changed their world view, or an experience so thrilling that they'll remember it forever. And that's why they should lobby their legislators, and be really, really angry that California is dead last on state funding for the arts. (OK, they should also lobby because we need arts in the schools, and I'm not going to argue that side of it.) But really, under the best of circumstances, people go to the theatre because it's fun. I mean, would CanStage rather I went to The Overcoat because I had to (for any number of reasons), or because I thought it would be fun? Frankly, I was in a good mood about going because I wanted to go. And I had a more positive experience because of it. Too bad I wasn't writing a review after all. It would have been a really positive one. But then, I couldn't have known I was going to write a review until after the fact. Then again, when was the last time you saw a reviewer blame themselves for the fact that they didn't enjoy the show?