On Artists and the Immediacy of Theatre
“We are joy-makers for a living. We create joy from nothing — from fiction.” —Rob McClure
I’ve always been an optimist. It has its shortcomings, don’t get me wrong, especially since my brain has a knack for pointing out the silver linings while I’m still trying to grasp the enormity of the clouds that have been looming recently. Usually, however, it helps my outlook on life rather than hindering it.
For instance, this situation that we’ve all found ourselves in is... rough, to say the very least. It’s really easy to get caught up in the worry and the questions and the wondering about the unknown. I’m still trying to stop overthinking and cycling through every possible scenario to every situation. However, I can’t help but appreciate all the good that is coming out of this terrible (temporary) new normal. What other time have I had the opportunity to watch several livestreams hosted by my favorite actors and artists within the span of a few hours every evening? What other time have all my friends been available to FaceTime or have drinks over Zoom? When have I seen my artist friends step up and rise to the occasion, blowing my mind with the things they’re doing?
Speaking of artist friends, I love and appreciate them so much. I grew up as a “theatre kid,” and have always appreciated the art of theatre. There’s something about the immediacy of this art-form that always surprises me no matter how long I’ve been a part of it. As one of my orchestra conductors once said, “Music is art in real time.” The same can absolutely be said about theatre. It’s there, working and living and breathing and playing out right before our eyes. And then it’s gone.
I’m all for recordings of shows (hence my enthusiasm when I found out that we’d be releasing a stream of our production of Naked Mole Rat), but there’s just something about seeing live theatre that thrills me. It’s so fleeting. Even recordings can’t capture the nuances and fluidity of a live performance. I saw Maybe Happy Ending four times. After watching that show's progression from the first table read to the final performance, you would think that it would be like clockwork. And it was, don’t get me wrong. Massive props to the people backstage who literally kept that show going! But no two performances were exactly the same. From subtle costume or inflection adjustments to bigger set or blocking changes, it was a true example of how theatre fluctuates from performance to performance.
However, the thing about art that never changes is the call for it. In this time of unrest, people are looking to artists whether they realize it or not. They’re consuming art on a daily basis as a means of escape. The books they read, the shows or movies they watch, the music they listen to, the games they play — it’s all thanks to artists and creatives and passionate people who churn out entertainment, often with no tangible return. To reference a show I was assistant directing before rehearsals got shut down (Recommended Reading for Girls by Ellen Struve), they’re doing their “sawdust best.” Artists are improvising (which is another art) to provide a service — content or entertainment — during this incredibly rough time.
I, for one, am greatly looking forward to the future of the arts after we come out on the other side of this. (And we will, if we all do our part.) Will the arts receive the renaissance that they so deserve? Will artists finally get the credit they are due? I’m anxiously awaiting finally getting to go outside without worrying about everything and everyone I come in contact with, but I’m also looking forward to seeing a show, going to a concert with friends, grabbing a book off the shelf the day it comes out, and cranking up my music while driving to work or rehearsal or nowhere in particular.
Until then, how can we help right now? Donate to a local community theatre that’s struggling to fund their next season. Hype up favorite local businesses on social media. Borrow a book from a local library and leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Make a few extra cookies and share them with artist friends. This historical event that we’re living through is scary, but it’s also an incredible opportunity to rebuild community in our local circles. So let’s do it, and when we’re all able to go outside again, let’s enjoy it.
Support Atlanta artists through the Atlanta Artist Relief Fund: www.atlartsrelief.org
Image: Terry Burrell, Molly Coyne, Brian Walker, and India S. Tyree in the Alliance Theatre’s 2016/17 world premiere production Cinderella and Fella. Photo by Greg Mooney.
