thought experiment: racial power analysis of indie theatre scene

I want you to participate in a little thought experiment. But first, I need to give you some background information.

I came across an article by Zora Neale Hurston called "What White Publishers Won't Print," and I'm sighing and shaking my head at how relevant it still is.

I've recently been involved with The People's Institute for Survival and Beyond's women of color anti-racist organizing group. What I really enjoy about this group is that it's not about tools and skills. It's not about rhetoric. It's about transforming institutions through anti-racist principles. In other words, The People's Institute forces us to look at what we take for granted and see how it contributes to racial marginalization and oppression. This is the most crucial aspect of anti-racist organizing*. Without a grounding in these core principles, we risk perpetuating racial marginalization and oppression despite our best intentions.

* What I love about The People's Institute is how they demystify organizing as something that only "experts" can do. The process of anti-racist organizing is extremely accessible to anyone who cares enough to put a little time and energy into it.

While racism is the focus of The People's Institute, the principles they use can apply to other forms of oppression as well. This does not mean that you should rip off their work and apply it to other forms of oppression without first wrestling with race. No, no, hell no. What I do mean is that once you understand how racism works, you have a leg up in understanding and counteracting other marginalizations and oppressions.

* Seriously, the last thing people of color need is yet another White person coming in, stealing our shit, and profiting off of it.

If you ever get a chance to attend one of their workshops, I highly recommend that you go. But for now I'd like to focus on a few ideas that really stood out to me as highly relevant to the indie theatre scene. All of the principles connect with each other. However, let's examine two or three: analyzing power and gatekeeping.

This is where we come to the thought experiment. It's very simple. I'm going to ask a few questions, and you answer as fully as you can. But first, a few ground rules.

1. Focus on race. Too often, when it comes to discussing race, the temptation is to ignore or erase that and make it all about something else. Without question, all systems of oppression are linked, but let's not pretend that we already know everything there is to know about race and how it functions in our lives.
2. This is engagement, not debate. This is a place for thinking and reflection, not judgment. Practice active listening. Nobody is on trial. Racism is not a charge you have to defend against. It's merely the situation we're dealing with because it was built into the fabric of our society.
3. Speak from your own experience. Talk from your own life. It's OK not to know this right away because we're trained not to think or talk about it like this. Parroting what somebody else said or regurgitating something you read or heard somewhere else turns this from a human interaction into an academic one.

Power analysis

1. Where is power concentrated? 
2. Who exercises power?
3. Who controls and/or has access to resources?
4. What barriers prevent full participation?
5. What are the effects of the power structures?

In your experience, how does the indie theatre scene do the following?

1. Exclude
2. Exploit
3. Oppress
4. Underserve

Gatekeeping

1. Which institutions and/or organizations do you work with?
2. What community does it serve?
3. Who is in that community? Where do people of color fit into that community?
4. Where does your organization or institution interact with that community?
5. Who describes that community?
6. Who represents that community?
7. Who speaks for that community?
8. Who mediates with or for that community?
9. Who evaluates the people within that community?
10. Who speaks for that community?
11. Who helps people navigate the system?
12. Who has access to your organization or institution?
13. Who are the leaders in your organization or institution? Who is represented in that leadership?
14. Who gets people to join your organization or institution?

Of course, there's no pressure to answer all of these questions right away. Just some things to think about. Feel free to leave answers here or to link to this post on your own blog with your answers.

synchronicity and doubt

I read a post linked to from the Community Dish Yahoo group where fledgling playwright Natalie Wilson talks about the period shortly following a successful reading. She describes it as a kind of post-partum depression.

I’m ashamed -- I feel like if I haven’t landed anything then it must not be that good. Or at least that is what people must think, because the only way to know in the arts that something you have done has merit is if other people give it a stamp of approval. Without the mark of commercial success on something, what you have created (or what talent you may possess) is all so much drivel. At least that is how I feel. I can say my play is good until I’m blue in the face, but without an external stamp of approval no one else has any reason to believe that.

You know what? I know exactly how she feels because that's where I am right now. Brian M. Rosen gives a fantastic response about the difference between success and merit:

I think the trick for the emerging creative is to keep a rock solid wall between the concepts of merit and success. You need to be able to look at your output and see its merit without the coloration of success (or lack thereof). It’s the internal voice that defines your creative output, not the external. That’s the voice that will make decisions, this note or that note? Transition to a new section or keep repeating this idea? Who speaks next? What do they say?

That’s the voice that needs to look at your work and say, “Yeah. This is good. I need to make more of this.”

That's a sentiment I can definitely get behind. Nevertheless, I can't shake the feeling that it's not quite getting to the core of the playwright's dilemma. Natalie presses the idea when she says (bold mine):

We've all known those artists/performers/writers who think they have this amazing talent, but they just... don't.  I can think my play is great, but if no one wants to hear it, or if when they do hear it, no one responds to it, then I don't think I can really call it great.  I do rely on what other people think - not to the exclusion of own instincts, but along with - because my goal is to create art that speaks to people, that touches people, that causes them to look at something in life a bit differently than they did before.  To me, my instinctual feeling that my work has merit can only be validated by achieving that goal.  Which I can't know unless I put it up in front of an audience and observe their response.

To which I say: exactly.

Am I the only one in the theatre blogosphere who has anything to say about my play? This is not hyperbole. I mean this is all seriousness. Is my time better spent talking via e-mail with the handful of people who will respond to me as opposed to putting everything out here and making myself look like the homeless person talking to herself?

Know actors looking for something to do? Read on.

There's already a Craigslist ad for it, but it's good to have it everywhere.

On Saturday, May 29, I had an improv staged reading for Tulpa, or Anne&Me. An improv staged reading I had less than 36 hours to put together. Remember, this is Gus Schulenburg's fault. If you feel you should be fairly compensated, I suggest robbing him at gunpoint.

So, here is the pertinent info (aka, the part that makes me look like a serious theatre professional):

TULPA, OR ANNE&ME
"Tulpa, or Anne&Me" is an experimental, semi-autobiographical full-length play that confronts the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality through pop culture, womanism, and Tibetan mysticism.

SYNOPSIS
When a tulpa in the form of Anne Hathaway crawls out of your television, what do you do? What do you talk about? What hopes, fears, desires, and resentments emerge? How would you change one other?

"Tulpa, or Anne&Me" explores the hidden inner life of a Black woman in order to expose how marginalization traumatizes the human psyche, thus taking the first steps toward healing it.

CHARACTERS
Actors needed for 4 female roles. Credentials and experience are great. What matters most is being easy to work with and your ability to bring passion, intelligence, sensitivity, and conviction to the role. Available parts:

• ME: Black woman, mid-20s to early 30s. Plain-looking, reserved, introspective. 
• ANNE HATHAWAY: Tulpa of the movie star. More than what she seems. 
• GUARDIAN ANGEL OF BLACKNESS #1: An angel. The protective one. Big, loud, and fierce. 
• GUARDIAN ANGEL OF BLACKNESS #2: An angel. The nurturing one. Warm, calm, and compassionate - to a point.

Trans women encouraged to audition.

BASIC INFO
WHAT: First audition for a staged reading of "Tulpa, or Anne&Me" followed by brief interview
WHEN: Saturday, June 5. Audition time slotted for 5PM-9PM. Plan for 15-20 minutes for audition and interview.
WHERE: WOW Cafe Theatre. 59-61 E. 4th St (Manhattan), 4th floor.
HOW: Best way - send me an e-mail. Give some info about yourself and why you're interested (this part is important). Let me know when you're coming and which character you want to audition for (this part also important). Headshot and resume welcome, but not necessary. I can send you character-specific material to look over before you arrive. Second best way - just show up.

PAY: Gratitude.

Know someone who'd be good for this project? Feel free to let me know.

First a reading, then the world!

Great news! Anne&Me is getting a full reading at the Blackboard Play Reading Series. It's really awesome that I managed to get a reading due to all the changes that Blackboard Plays and The Cell are going through. I couldn't have asked for a better place to midwife my piece, although if they could get some ninjas that would be great.

When does a play with issues become an Issue Play?

I saw Garlia Jones' Stranger in My Body at the New School on Saturday, and I came back to witness a reading Monday night for Blackboard Play reading series at the Cell. I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially when watching what the actors brought to the readings of the characters, both on stage and in a reading.

After the reading there was a brief talkback. Several people made comments to the effect that they were relieved that Stranger in My Body was not an "issue play." I found that . . . odd (read: slightly disturbing), particularly since the blurb about the play makes it quite plain that Stranger in My Body grapples with Issues. I also found it odd (read: slightly disturbing) to see who the comments were coming from, especially taking into account the playwright herself and the performers. Here are a few things to give you some context:

• The playwright: cisgender Black woman.
• The actors: 2 Black women, a White woman, a Black man, and non-American woman - all cisgender as far as I know.
• The audience: 20-30 people, male-to-female ratio about even, a 50-50 split of White and non-White. All cisgender as far as I know.
• The people who said that they liked Stranger in My Body for not being an issue play - all White.
• From the looks of it, a mixture of sexual orientations.

Let me get this out of the way: I'm sure they meant it as a compliment. Apparently, many plays that deal directly with "issues" can come across as pretty fucking didactic. I can see why that would turn people off. Nobody likes to be manipulated, and no one likes being told what to think or how to feel. I get that.

But that's not what I'm talking about, so please don't make comments pointing out the obvious.

Here is where I start to squirm a bit. Of all the things that Stranger in My Body does right, what's with the trend of praising it for not being an "issue play"? What is that even supposed to mean in this context? The play itself has issues all over the place - gender issues, sexuality issues, religion issues. Stranger in My Body focuses on the lives of its characters and their relationships with one another, but does not make it apolitical. Hell, the play opens up at a fucking voting booth! The personal is political, and all that.

What am I supposed to take from this sort of commentary? The playwright is a Black woman who writes a play full of Black characters who don't make race the topic of conversation, and that's what's praiseworthy about it? Nevermind the sensitivity and nuance she brings when she writes about a man trapped in a woman's body. Nevermind how she brings complexity and depth to characters who would be all to easy to stereotype. Nevermind her skill at writing naturalistic dialogue that flows smoothly and feels spontaneous each time the actors say the words. Nope - the thing that 3 or 4 people felt most compelled to comment on is that Stranger in My Body is not an issue play or a topical play, but the only topic I see not getting any attention is race.

No, I'm not going to make this post about race per se, but I will venture a working theory I have about what constitutes an "issue play." Especially considering this discussion happening over at Parabasis, I'm starting to get the idea that an "issue play" is any play that directly confronts the experience of a marginalized identity that makes those who are not marginalized in the same way feel uncomfortable.

I wish I could be more precise than that, but I'm working with what seems to be the only two criteria: privilege and discomfort.

What do you think an "issue play" is?

My kinda show

I'm gonna save up my pennies to go see Vampire Cowboys' Alice in Slasherland. Why? Because it's fucking Alice in Slasherland, that's why. It's like asking "Why Frank Sinatra?" Because it's fucking Frank Sinatra!. Do you really need any other reason?

After this serious turn with Anne&Me is over, I'm gonna see about writing a D&D game as a script using genre-savvy characters. Or my personal favorite - a horror story for smart people. Imagine:

SCENE: Woods. Late night.

CAMPER 1: What's the name of this place again?
CAMPER 2: Crystal Lake.
CAMPER 1: Why does that sound f - hey, ain't this where all those people got cut up?
CAMPER 2: Yeah, but it was a long time ago. Hey, where you going?
CAMPER 1: Home. I'll just watch Animal Planet or something.

SCENE: Big-assed house in upstate New York.

1ST HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: This is so cool! And it's only $2,000. This is amazing!
2ND HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: Yeah, and in this economy with our credit score.
1ST HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: I know!
2ND HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: Too bad we can't stay.
SCARY VOICE: (Whispering) Get. Out.
1ST HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: I heard the South Bronx is really nice this time of year.
2ND HALF OF LOVELY YOUNG COUPLE: If we sell one of the kids I think we could scrape by in Williamsburg.

Or maybe something like . . .

The world must be made safe for new plays!!!

"Softening the Ground for New Work" at 2am Theatre (H/t to cgeye). A snippet:

What could we be doing, right now, BEFORE we have a new work project to present, to help accli­mate our exist­ing audi­ence to the risks and rewards of new work in gen­eral? How can we be using our reg­u­lar com­mu­ni­ca­tions with our audi­ence to pique their curios­ity what’s going on nation­ally and locally in the arena of new work?