
Welcome to the next exciting and new era of theatre. It is not often that one can point to an exact moment of time that they are living through and say with complete certainty that “everything has changed” but here we are on the other side of a world-wide pandemic, and it would be foolish to think that things will simply revert back to before. At this very moment we are seeing theatres large and small, American and International, rearranging their seasons, rethinking their organizational structures, and in some cases, completely closing their doors because the old ways of doing things are no longer sustainable. Change is certainly in the air.
We are about to see some of the most interesting artistic explorations of our generation as my fellow performing artists take on the challenge of returning to the stage after years of artistic isolation.
Will this new wave of theatre challenge audiences with realistic expressions of the human experience told through traditional theatrical forms? Will we hear from new voices, telling stories from unexpected points of view, asking the audience to see the world around us in a new way? Will it be aspirational or apocalyptic? Straightforward or satirical? Humorous or humorless?
Will the theatre of this next moment happen in a proscenium theatre, with rows of seats facing a familiar stage complete with red curtains? Will it happen in the streets, through spontaneous demonstrations that shake up the status quo? In a tiny black box theatre or an immense football stadium? State-of-the-art three-quarter thrust or abandoned shopping mall?
Forest or field?
Broadway or Off-Broadway?
Regional or community theatre?
Big budget or shoestring?
Abstract or realistic?
Multimedia?
Yes.
The answer to all of the above is yes. The theatre of the next generation will have different rules and unfamiliar boundaries. It will require courageous theatrical exploration and a comprehensive reevaluation of our current ideas about what theatre is, where it happens, who it is for, and how it is funded.
So, there can be no manifestos telling everyone what art must be. No lists of who can and can’t participate. No destruction of the past to build the future. No throwing out the baby with the bathwater this time.
Instead, this post-COVID Manifesto for the Theatre and Theatre Artists will be a manifesto of the could, not the must. Of the perhaps, not the have to. Of flexible possibilities, not rigid definites.
To face a very uncertain theatrical future, we need artists to be smart, brave, strong, and endlessly adaptable to a rapidly shifting landscape. We need art and artists from every background to test the boundaries and bring their unique stories and storytelling techniques to audiences old and new.
To face a very uncertain world around us, audiences will need the option to see theatre of all kinds. Theatre that will lift them up when they are down. That will challenge them when they are fired up. That will make them laugh. Think. Cry. Feel. There will be theatre that warms the heart. Theatre that sends chills down your spine. Theatre that comforts. Theatre that is uncomfortable.
To this end, in order for theatre to continue to grow, the theatre makers of today can build upon the best of yesterday and not completely destroy and disrespect our history the way other manifestos in the past have suggested. In the end, the “new” always gets absorbed into the old, creating a “new” new. There will be room for traditional stories and storytelling alongside the new and Avant Garde. Room for innovative, groundbreaking productions of classics and faithful restagings and revivals of musicals. Room for brand spanking new pieces about topics that have not yet been explored, or even imagined.
There is only one must in this manifesto for the next generation of theatre.
It MUST remain human.
I have seen the story of Humpty-Dumpty retold as an animated hip-hop musical for an adult audience. I have seen Shakespearian plays and Gilbert and Sullivan operettas reset in new eras, recast in thoughtful ways. I have seen ballets about magical swans, mechanical dolls, and a child’s sugar induced holiday dream.
No matter the subject matter, in each case, these stories were written by humans. These characters were brought to life by humans who were directed and choreographed by other humans. Human beings designed the sets, the lighting, the sound, and the costumes. It doesn’t matter if you’re doing a play about the highest, newest technology or if you’re playing a dinosaur; a robot or a caveman; a wizard or a madman; when you walk into any theatrical experience, you are a human being watching art made by other human beings. We are not machines nor should we strive to become machines. We are humans having a theatrical experience and not for one second should we pretend that we’re not.
We do not need plays written by machines, designed by machines, and performed by machines. Art and theatre are at the very core of what it means to have a human experience. If we ignore that, we risk losing our humanity.
So be brave…
Curious,
Experimental,
Thoughtful,
And adventurous.
Human.
Be human.
A special note to the artists:
Protect your passion.
We are humans. We put ourselves through so much pain and we sacrifice so much of ourselves to make theatre for others.
Demand respect.
Demand a fair wage.
Demand safe, healthy working conditions.
Stand up to the toxicity of this business.
The show doesn’t have to go on.
Being a starving artist is not a noble thing to strive for.
For the love of the theatre, we must turn the business completely on its head.
We must, and I do mean must, end the time of celebrating our sacrifices and pain as something to be proud of. We must end the abuse that is not only accepted but expected in this business.
Say no to the unpaid apprenticeships. No to the sexual advances of people in power. No to working six days a week. No to “doing it for the experience.” No to the emotional abuse. No to the unrealistic beauty standards of Hollywood. No to finding your own housing. No to gigging for life with no retirement. No to the encroaching dangers of artificial intelligence stealing out creativity.
Artists spend an incredible amount of emotional, spiritual, and physical energy at every single production meeting, rehearsal, and performance. In order for us to be at our best, we must give ourselves the gifts of time and rest to be human and to heal. When it is time for rest, you must rest. Art should not destroy the human beings that make it.
Protect your passion, artists. Demand a better future. We need you at your best.
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