Despite Pandemic, High School Shows Still Being Shut Down, For New Reasons

March 17th, 2021 § Comments Off on Despite Pandemic, High School Shows Still Being Shut Down, For New Reasons § permalink

Given the disastrous reduction in live theatre that has marked the pandemic since March of 2020, one might assume that incidences of high school shows canceled over content concerns would have been curtailed as well. But as lockdowns have been lifted and as theatre educators have devised creative means to produce safely, production shutdowns have followed. However, the reason for the cancelations that have risen to public awareness is not typical of what has come before.

Over the past decade, when school theatre productions have been shut down, it is typically because of parents or community members who object to the content of the shows, with particular sensitivity to the representation of LGBTQ lives (Rent, The Laramie Project), the slightest hint of sexual activity (Almost, Maine), violence (Sweeney Todd), or the occasional profanity. The object has ostensibly been to “protect” the students – those in the show, their classmates, and even their younger siblings from engaging in such topics. The intent has been suppression of subjects and themes, all of which the students are most assuredly aware.

What of the recent cancelations?

In late February, McCaskey High School in the Lancaster PA school district canceled the spring production of Hairspray because of students who were troubled by language they found offensive regarding Black and Hispanic characters and people with disabilities. An email from a group of students to their principal was forwarded on to the superintendent, who made the decision to cancel the show.

In March, The Chadwick School, a private school in Palos Verdes Peninsula CA, shut down a planned production of the school edition of Avenue Q. A message from the administration to parents said that while “the musical had the full support of the administration…elements of our community felt uncomfortable, based on principle, with some of the tone, timing and content of the show.” The message went on to say, “The original work has been praised for its irreverent and provocative approach to themes such as race and sexuality,” but that while “theater is an effective forum to explore important topics such as these, we also believe it is important to respect the perspectives of the individuals who raised concerns.”

This week, the Hunterdon Central Regional High School canceled plans to produce South Pacific because staff and students were concerned about the show’s treatment of race. According to NJ.com, citing the district superintendent, “the district believed [South Pacific] was ‘important and relevant,” but also that “the district was aware the musical featured stereotyped characters and dialogue, and originally intended to offer a concert version that ‘significantly reduced the dialogue’.” There is no indication whether or not Concord Theatricals, which licenses the Rodgers & Hammerstein catalogue, had approved of the concert-style cutting of the show.

While the specifics at The Chadwick School are somewhat vague in the administration’s statement, and it’s unclear where the objections originated, at McCaskey and Hunterdon the source is apparent: it’s students who wanted to see the shows shut down or replaced, specifically because they felt that portrayals and dialogue were insensitive and offensive to often marginalized communities. These incidents echo what transpired at Ithaca High School in 2018, when students pushed for the shut down of a production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame after a white student was cast in a role that had been played in prominent professional productions by a BIPOC actor.

In the wake of the heightened awareness surrounding discussions of race engendered by the Black Lives Matter movement, and perhaps influenced by the advocacy of such groups as We See You White American Theatre and the Broadway Advocacy Coalition, it should not be surprising that high school students are not simply aware of, but motivated by, such concerns. Given that the racial reckoning of the past couple of years mirrors the societal upheaval around civil rights and, on its heels, youth culture in the 1960s, activism by high school students is far from surprising, especially when one considers the greater sophistication of teens in comparison with those over 50 years ago.

When the Ithaca students spoke out in 2018, their efforts yielded death threats over their fight for representation, spurred on by right-wing sites like The Daily Caller. This week, Fox News, already deeply engaged in spreading the canard of cancel culture in relation to Dr. Seuss and the Warner Brothers characters Speedy Gonzales and Pepe le Pew, have embraced the South Pacific situation as merely another example of what they decry, namely the ostensible disappearing of material that they consumed in the days before distinct communities (women, BIPOC, disability) communities were afforded a voice to express the offense given by certain portrayals and the increasing willingness of both individuals and corporations to avoid slurs.

Adults of a certain age may not even understand where the offense lies in the Dr. Seuss books withdrawn, or appreciate how an aggressively romantic skunk might echo sexual harassment or worse. Some of that comes from being brought up in an era with different mores or only remembering the barest outlines of material they consumed decades ago. They may further be confused by the weaponization of these stories being treated as examples of yet more “political correctness,” another catch-all term, like “cancel culture,” both applied to denigrate present-day sensitivity to and concern about works which once punched down at certain people with impunity.

There is no question that given only a cursory glance, the suspension of certain high school productions looks like censorship – it is, in the case of public schools at least, government officials ending a form of expression. When it rises to that level, it is very difficult to countenance, even when done in order to avoid perpetuating harm through uncritical representations of misogyny, racial bias and the like.

So the first question to be asked of the faculty and administration is, “What was the rationale for selecting this show?” “How were its dialogue and themes considered in light of present-day viewpoints on how some works may have grown dated?” “Does this material still say what it intended back in its original era?” While some of these questions may seem absurd with such modern material as Avenue Q or Hairspray, it’s worth remembering that both are around 20 years old. South Pacific is considerably older.

The next question is whether, in recognizing what some may view as problematic material, any effort was made to contextualize it for students and even the larger community. Some may object to the use of the n-word in certain texts, but does that mean the works of August Wilson shouldn’t be studied or performed in a high school setting? How, and by whom, students are led to understand certain material can have a significant impact or the repertoire open to schools. While Wilson’s estate will not permit the alteration of his texts, that is not always the case for all works in high school settings. If a handful of words render a work ostensibly unperformable, the author(s) or their estate(s) may grant dispensation for certain changes.

That it was the student version of Avenue Q that raised objections in California is interesting in that the text and lyrics had already been altered to render it more fit by some for school performances. Perhaps it is due for another review. Yet at the same time, it may reach a point where the bowdlerization of the material renders it so unrecognizable that it becomes a different work altogether. The degree to which that does or does not occur is entirely at the discretion of its creators.

It is important to note that unlike some high school shows that were shuttered specifically to suppress ideas like racial, gender and sexual equality, the decision in Lancaster over Hairspray was not shrouded in short, blunt statements. Instead, the superintendent, Dr. Damaris Rau, wrote a blog post fully explaining her decision. She wrote in part:

I also believe context matters. Our country has gone through some horrific events, including the murder of George Floyd. I know many of our students participated in the social justice marches this summer. We know mental health issues of adolescents have grown and intensified during the COVID-19 pandemic. The language and portrayals in the show risked further discomfort—and potentially trauma—for students facing the harsh reality of racism in our country. In addition, many families bring their younger children to see our musical.

In light of this current environment, the calls for social justice, and the written concerns of the students, I believe this is the best decision at this time.

In emails with Arts Integrity, Dr. Rau elaborated that in addition to specific dialogue in the show, the students had expressed concern that Hairspray is a white savior narrative. She went on to talk about the in-school training around implicit bias, equity, and diversity, which began two years ago.

The objections to South Pacific may prove most surprising because it was written specifically to decry racism – witness “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught.” But in its portray of Bloody Mary and Liat weren’t they also deploying stereotypes that have become more and more obvious as racial awareness has evolved over the past 70 plus years? Those who believe vintage anti-racism texts can’t possibly become problematic need only look to another musical from roughly the same era, Finian’s Rainbow, which used blackface in order to fight racism.

Nothing herein should be considered to advocate for the alteration of texts to avoid any and all offense; we will not benefit from the homogenization of culture. The state of copyrighted texts is the sole purview of creators or their estates, and even if changes are authorized individually or enshrined globally, it is vital that the original versions are retained and preserved, since we should never be comfortable with the permanent erasure of history. But if the Seuss estate decides that it’s works no longer are fit for purpose and withdrawn from commercial circulation, that is their absolute right and represents an understanding of societal change, not cancelation but consideration.

Consideration of texts for school theatre is essential as well. Just because educators have always loved a show from their youth doesn’t necessarily make it the best choice for today or for their target audience. By the same token, a flight to safety will not serve either, because theatre is indeed a place where hard issues should be on the table, but only when properly contextualized for those putting on the performance and those who are intended to see it.

It serves no one to have shows shut down. Before a show is announced or auditions held, work must be chosen in the very best interest of the students, with the goal of a fair and equal society, work which does not demean but educates and even lifts up. When it comes to how works of prior eras are perceived today by their students, even teachers may have to be carefully taught.

For My Friend Who Will Never Read My Book

January 28th, 2021 § Comments Off on For My Friend Who Will Never Read My Book § permalink

Howard Sherman and Kaki Marshall, on their last in person visit in December 2019

Today, my book is published. This is the realization of a dream that I had given up on long ago. But my most overwhelming emotion today, and every time I look at the finished book, is sadness.

It would be wrong to say that I wrote Another Day’s Begun for any one person. Presumably like any other author, I wrote it for many people to read. But the person who I most wanted to read it, who I most wanted to have place it on her bookshelf, cannot. 

Catherine “Kaki” Marshall was a mentor to me in my days as a student at the University of Pennsylvania, and I am hardly her only protegee. Many kids at Penn, from the late 70s to the early 90s, would find their way to Kaki’s office, on the mezzanine level of the Annenberg Center, when she was the Associate Managing Director there, for knowledge, for caring. There was, quite literally, always an open door, unless you wanted to talk privately; I can’t recall her ever shutting anyone out for her own needs.

Having gone to Penn already in love with theatre, but convinced by many that it was no way to make a living or a life, I took stabs at other fields of interest, but none really resonated. I was most engaged with my time in the Annenberg Center, in my work study job in the box office, 20 hours each week, during my freshman and sophomore years. I joined the Penn Players, the school’s longest established drama troupe, and in two semesters, I directed two shows, staged managed one, and appeared in one. Kaki was the faculty adviser

Having met Kaki and grown friendly with her – mind you, she was a contemporary of my parents, with children of her own around my age – I was able to be assigned to her office for my work-study gig in my junior and senior years. To this day, I don’t remember doing any work beyond answering the phone. What I remember is sitting in Kaki’s office talking about theatre and constantly borrowing books from her wide, multi-tiered shelves – every book about theatre and nothing else. Because Penn had no theatre program, Kaki was my undergraduate theatre curriculum. 

I also recall one particular totem on those bygone shelves: a small, square fading color photo of Kaki and Hal Prince, in swim clothes, lounging on chaises at what Kaki told me was Hal’s vacation place in Spain. Hal was one my first theatre idols and, thanks to Kaki, I met him for the first time when I was a junior – and we sat together in Kaki’s office and talked. Kaki had done theatre at Penn with Hal when they were both students, and he remained her friend until he passed away.

In those last two years of college, when I was ostensibly working for her, we grew quite close, bonded by my overwhelming stress about school and career as well as by a personal tragedy in her family. We discussed these subjects openly, and she was for me – and again, I know for others – my theatre mom. She understood my concerns and worries and interests and desires and she supported them with knowledge and perspective. Her office was less my job and more my refuge. Kaki understood my love of theatre in a way my parents, always supportive but not personally invested in theatregoing or theatremaking, could not.

On the last day I saw Kaki on campus before graduating, I vividly remember telling her that I would always keep in touch. “Oh, Howard,” she said, “so many students say that. But with time and distance, it doesn’t often happen, and you need to know that I understand and it’s OK.”

Having introduced this essay talking about my sadness, this is where you might think I’ll now tell you about drifting away from Kaki and regretting the loss of our bond. But that wasn’t the case – I did realize what I had found in her, every minute, and was determined not to lose it.

I was faithful and would call every couple of months to share my news and hear hers. I would look for any pretext to visit Philadelphia, and always include a visit with Kaki, and with her husband Joe too, who I knew to have had a similarly influential effect on his students at Temple Law School.

Most every summer, I would spend a long weekend with Kaki and Joe at their beach home on the southern Jersey shore. We never ran out of things to talk about and, aside from politics and current events, which we discussed with vigor (from the same perspective), our main topic was theatre. Since Joe passed away several years ago, I tried to call Kaki every few weeks.

Our ongoing friendship was such that she always received a call from me on her birthday, year in and year out. She never asked for it, but I know she enjoyed it, proven by a call perhaps 10 years ago. I was in England in late September, as I usually am at that time, when my phone rang as it rarely did when people knew I was traveling. Kaki’s name showed on the screen.

Given to bouts of pessimism, I feared something was wrong. I answered by saying, “Kaki, hi, is everything OK?” With a laugh she replied, “Everything’s fine. But I wanted to know if everything is OK with you?” “I’m fine,” I responded. “I’m in England, remember? Why are you concerned?” “Because it’s my birthday,” she said, “and all of my kids have called now but I haven’t heard from you and I got worried.”

She also spoke to me every year on my birthday, though she didn’t know it. I always made a point of calling on that day because I certainly never expected her to keep track of the date, not with six children and more than a dozen grandchildren, plus siblings and nieces and nephews and cousins. Every year on these calls, I never pointed out my birthday, but we would mark that it was the birthday of Hal Prince. That date is two days from now.

We continued to go to the theatre together when possible, as we had when I was a student. I can’t recall which was when, but I believe our final two shows seated side by side were Tectonic Theatre Project’s two-part The Laramie Project and The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later, which we saw on a single marathon day, and Bill Irwin’s The Happiness Lecture.

For 36 years, I would call, I would send her things I wrote and we’d discuss them, and when face to face, we would laugh together and have the kind of earnest talks about theatre that I always craved. Because of this, because of the bookshelves in her Annenberg office where I learned so much, my greatest desire has been to know that Kaki had read my book and had it on her much-reduced home bookshelf, the bulk of her theatre books having been given away years earlier.

Kaki died in August of 2020, not from the virus, but simply in the course that a life runs, and she was not ill very long. She was one month shy of her 95th birthday. It was only weeks from the time she went to the hospital until she died. We had spoken perhaps two weeks before things had started heading in the direction I had feared for some time. I feared it because my parents had both passed years earlier, leaving Kaki as my only true surrogate parent. 

Earlier this past summer, I had thought that perhaps I should let Kaki read the manuscript of Another Day’s Begun, not because there seemed to be any imminent concern, but just in case anything happened. She was 94, after all. I decided against it, putting faith in the fact that all of the women in her family were long-lived, quite remarkably so. I wanted her to see a complete finished book, not simply as something on its way to being a book. It was a miscalculation I will always regret.

Countless people have influenced my life, more than I could ever thank in the book or face to face. But I most wanted Kaki to read Another Day’s Begun because she was the one person I could truly credit for fanning the flame of my theatre love and knowledge at the earliest stage. Also, while she had seen shows at theatres where I worked, this book is something that is truly mine, a testament to her support, her help, her faith in me, her love – and her understanding of me.

I cannot share this with Kaki in recognition of all she gave to me. But in her honor, her memory, and with the deep love I felt and feel for Kaki, I share it today with all of you, because she would have been very happy for us all to have a new theatre book for our shelves. And if a student spots a copy on your shelf and expresses interest, please loan it to them, because in that moment, you will do for that student what Kaki did for me, and that act honors our friendship.

My Pandemic Year in Pictures

December 28th, 2020 § 1 comment § permalink

Taking extreme care during the pandemic, particularly when New York was the first and hardest hit in the earliest days, my journeys beyond my apartment and the immediate surroundings put significant limitations on my truest hobby: photography. Because I remained in Manhattan for all but two brief excursions beyond its borders (one lasting only a few hours, the other overnight), my range of locations and subjects was necessarily narrow.

But I was compelled to take pictures whenever I could do so safely, and while the majority of my time was spent in Riverside Park and Central Park, I did venture onto the subway and to a few other neighborhoods occasionally for a change of pace. Photography offers me two great diversions: the first is the sport of actually spotting and capturing an image, the second is the surprising relaxation I find when I concentrate on optimizing the photos for public consumption.

So on a site that I began in order to express myself in writing, I now want to offer up only images, which may be familiar to those who are friends or followers on Facebook and, to a lesser degree, to those who follow me on Instagram, where I try to not repeat too much from FB. In the earliest months of the pandemic, I photographed a lot of dogs while the dog runs were closed, posting more than 100 of them on social media, but I have refrained from including them here.

Here’s to a 2021 where we can live without the threat of widespread disease and travel more freely to see those we love wherever they may be – and to capture images, whether mental or digital, wherever we go.

All photos © Howard Sherman

March

Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Park

May

Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Drive
Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Park

July

Photo © Howard Sherman
Washington Square Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
annual nude body painting event, Times Square
Photo © Howard Sherman
Houston & Varick Streets
Photo © Howard Sherman
Minetta Lane

August

Photo © Howard Sherman
Washington Square Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
Washington Square Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
subway station, Canal Street
Photo © Howard Sherman
U.S. Customs House, 1 Bowling Green
Photo © Howard Sherman
IFC Center, Sixth Avenue & West 3rd Street

September

Photo © Howard Sherman
Broadway & 23rd Street
Photo © Howard Sherman
Bethesda Fountain, Central Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
Be An Arts Hero video session, Duffy Square

October

Photo © Howard Sherman
northbound subway station, Broadway & 86th Street
Photo © Howard Sherman
morning, Fifth Avenue & 72nd Street
Photo © Howard Sherman
Schoenfeld Theatre, West 45th Street
Photo © Howard Sherman
43rd Street between Broadway and Seventh Avenue
Photo © Howard Sherman
Bill Irwin’s The Busking Project, Broadway & 22nd Street

November

Photo © Howard Sherman
following election call for Biden, Washington Square Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
Bethesda Fountain, Central Park

December

Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Park
Photo © Howard Sherman
Riverside Park

All photos © Howard Sherman

“Our Town” in Our Moment

April 17th, 2020 § Comments Off on “Our Town” in Our Moment § permalink

“So friends, this is the way we were in our growing up and in our marrying and in our doctoring and in our living and in our dying.”

Pull out a copy of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town and, depending upon the vintage of the edition, if it’s old enough, you can find that line. That’s how it read in the 1938 hardback edition, which was drawn from the original rehearsal manuscript. But at this moment, with theatres dark, with people fearing illness and falling ill, the ultimately excised “doctoring” as a key element in our lives holds unfortunate resonance.

Keith Randolph Smith as The Stage Manager in Miami New Drama’s 2017
production of “Our Town” (Photo by Stian Roenning)

While we cannot presently take refuge in theatres, people have done so for countless years, and in America, since 1938, Our Town has proven to be one of the most enduring of works. Contrary to many people’s misapprehension of it as a valentine to a bygone era, the play is a deep meditation on mortality. It starts dropping hints about its true concerns, beyond baseball games and ice cream soda-fueled romance, virtually from the start, when we’re introduced to one character by immediately learning about when he will die. 

That character happens to be Doc Gibbs, who so far as the play tells us, is the only medical professional in the fictional town of Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, where the story is set. He practiced in an era before personal protective equipment was standard issue, before private health insurance and Obamacare – and he ministered to everyone equally. The play begins with him having just delivered twins in the less affluent part of Grover’s Corners that the audience never sees.

The mundane, commonplace events of the play’s first two acts give way in the third to a metatheatrical and metaphysical exploration of what comes after earthly life. However, it is explicitly non-denominational and non-religious, ultimately designed not to have us contemplate what comes next, but rather how much we must appreciate what we have in life, even if it seems inconsequential, and perhaps at this moment, frightening.

For those who have never encountered the play, Emily, the play’s female lead, is lost to a medical crisis. She realizes only when it is too late what she has been forced to leave behind. As we shelter in place, as we quarantine, as our medical professionals work tirelessly and selflessly without all of the resources they need, it’s hard not to think about Our Town, which speaks so directly to the futility of regret and the value and interconnectedness of every aspect of life.

Angelle M. Thomas and Emily Hill (foreground) in the LSU School of Theatre 2019 production of “Our Town” (Photo by Howard Sherman)

It also speaks to community, with the lives of the people of a small town inextricably interwoven, through education, through prayer, through dining, through sports, through singing. There’s not, we’re told, much culture in the town, but there’s great appreciation for the natural world, for the weather, for that which we often take for granted. Wilder constantly has his characters looking to the skies. Even children contemplate their place in the universe.

For those already chafing at the strictures of an invisible scourge, we long to return to our daily lives as they have been, consumed with getting back to work, to school, to income, to not fearing the proximity of others. When we do, and we will, but not without pain and loss, perhaps we will have a newfound pleasure in clocks ticking, food, coffee, sunflowers, and new ironed dresses, to recount Emily’s memories, as well as in live performance and greeting friends and strangers alike. Wilder had to imagine passings and an afterlife to get us to contemplate these things.

Now, more than ever, we are all Emily Webb. Biology is writing the story from which we must learn. As a character says in Our Town, “My, wasn’t life awful – and wonderful.”

My book, “Another Day’s Begun: Thornton Wilder’s Our Town in the 21st Century,” will be published in February 2021 by Methuen Drama.

C-a-n-c-e-l-i-n-g ‘Spelling Bee’ at a Maryland Middle School

April 24th, 2019 § 4 comments § permalink

The communication announcing the cancelation of a production of the musical The 25thAnnual Putnam County Spelling Bee at Hyattsville Middle School in Maryland could not have been more terse.

Unfortunately we have decided to cancel the Spring Musical dates of May 2nd, 3rd, and 4th.

Additionally, we will hold a parent meeting after spring break, Tuesday April 23rdat 4:30pm in Mrs. Gee’s Room to address next steps and to answer any of your questions, comments, or concerns.

The letter was signed by Genese Gee-Schmidtke, the Hyattsville Middle School Theatre Arts Director. The signature included the tagline, presumably common to all of her communications, which reads, “Respect Art, Create Art, Live art…Do good!”

Inquiries regarding the cancelation to the office of Dr. Monica Goldson, who holds the title of Interim CEO at Prince George’s County Public Schools (in lieu of the more typical title of Superintendent), which includes Hyattsville, received the following reply:

Thank you for contacting me concerning the cancellation of the play at Hyattsville Middle School. Staff spoke with the Principal and listed below is what actually took place.

Teachers expressed concern given the extended use of profanity in the play even though it was play was identified as PG13 appropriate. The supervisor for Performing Arts, was then requested to review content during which time it was decided that the play should be cancelled since copyright laws did not permit the change in language when she reached out to the company.  It was then deemed more appropriate for high school and not middle school.

A letter will be crafted and sent home to the school community this week.

In addition, we will work with the central office Creative and Visual Performing Arts team to create a process for approval of plays prior to students practicing and preparing to ensure this does not happen again.

The 25thAnnual Putnam County Spelling Bee is the comic recreation of a student spelling bee. It ran on Broadway from May 2005 to January 2008 and received a Tony Award for Best Book of a Musical for Rachel Sheinkin, as well as a Tony for Dan Fogler who played one of the student competitors. It has widely been produced since, however for school productions, the lyrics of one song, “My Unfortunate Erection,” have been revised to “My Unfortunate Distraction” to remove the obvious sexual connotation.

According to news reports, the Hyattsville production has been in rehearsal for months, and as Gee-Schmidtke’s brief communication indicates, the cancelation came over spring break, with the performances scheduled for the weekend following the return from break. Presumably, Gee-Schmidtke did not cancel her own show, but rather was communicating the decision of others above her in the school or district hierarchy.

With the material most obviously problematic already revised and implemented for the Hyattsville production, precisely what concerns remained? A report from WJLA TV references a statement from the communications office for the district, saying that a review of the script yielded, in WJLA’s characterization, “concerns surrounding profane language, sexual innuendo, and several lines in the play that could potentially be viewed as racist.” Coverage of the Tuesday meeting in The Washington Post characterized school officials as citing “a number of concerns — with racial humor, sexual innuendo and what one described as some ‘cuss words’.”

Arts Integrity has written to the CEO and the Hyattsville principal, as well as the communications office asking for those specific examples. As of publication time, the only response received, from Raven Hill in the district communication office, read, “I will follow up with you later today.” This post will be updated with that response upon receipt.

It has been widely rumored online that the main concern about the show pertains to the characters of the two gay dads of one of the student characters. Schools spokesperson Hill was quoted by the Post as saying, “I know that there was a rumor and a concern, but we’re not seeking to remove gay characters, nor was the play canceled because of gay characters.”

James McGonnigal, an area resident who does not have a child who is a student at the school, but attended the meeting, characterized the conversation in the meeting in an e-mail with Arts Integrity, writing:

The meeting last night was not only filled with contradictions to the statement made earlier in the day about reasons for the production’s cancellation. The meeting began with Principal Thorne reading the county’s prepared statement and followed with questions and replies. During the questioning from parents and community members, the Principal and County representatives first attempted to blame MTI for not allowing the changes being requested.

McGonnigal went on to write:

There was more discussion of the list of requested changes, this time from Ms. Gee – the director of the show. One parent asked for that list to be shared and they said it would take a few days to compile it. And then I asked if the director could confirm that the inclusion of gay parents was not on the list of requested changes. After replying “Well, there were several requested changes made and we just want to make sure that we’re offering a show that’s appropriate for all ages.” When I asked again, “Can you confirm that the inclusion of gay parents was not a concern brought to MTI,” she replied “No, I cannot confirm that.”

McGonnigal has set up an online petition in support of the play going forward.

In a video recording of the start of the meeting, the school principal, Thornton Boone, reads a prepared statement which includes making a distinction between MTI school edition scripts, which he says are prepared for high schools, and Broadway Junior editions, which he cites as being for elementary and middle schools, noting that there is no Broadway Junior edition of Spelling Bee. He proceeds to say, “Based on this information, it is recommended that this production not be presented by Hyattsville Middle School.” He then outlines the intention to develop a plan for the future approval of shows for the 2019-2020 school year and proceeds to cite the school’s adherence to policies against discrimination and harassment.

Boone goes on to recount a conversation between MTI and Ms. Gee-Schmidtke in which she was ostensibly told that any changes to the script would be in violation of copyright. He goes on to state that LGBTQ content was not the reason for the cancelation, and announces that in a June performance, students will present excerpts from prior school productions, including Into The Woods, Fame, Once on This Island, Romeo and Juliet and Annie.

The impression that no changes to the Spelling Bee text are permitted, even when properly requested, is rebutted by WJLA’s report, which also cites McGonnigal:

“There are a handful of ‘damns’ or ‘Jesus Christs’ that are in there, that could easily be cut out, I don’t think with any complaint from the licensing agency,” said Jamie McGonnigal, who says he is very familiar with ‘The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee’.

ABC 7 reached out to the licensing agency, Music Theatre International, and a spokesperson confirmed that they have accommodated similar requests in the past.

If gay dads aren’t the issue, if mild curse words can be altered with permission, what remains a problem with Spelling Bee? Again, the school district isn’t being specific. The most likely point of contention may well be a brief scene when one of the student spellers utters, “Jesus, can’t you come up with a harder word than that?” and Jesus appears to that student in a one-page scene in which he explains that spelling bees aren’t something he much concerns himself with.

If it is the depiction of Jesus which is a problem under the PGCPS guidelines, then presumably that is not a matter that would be any different in the high school than the middle school. Is this the “extended use of profanity” alluded to in an e-mail from Goldson to the Justine Christianson, president of the school’s PTSO? Are we to parse the language carefully to distinguish profane from what is often seen as its synonym, obscene?

There may be a solution at hand, namely that the show proceeds, despite losing days of rehearsal, with a “mature content warning” appended in materials promoting the show, as if anyone in the community isn’t now aware of such reservations on the part of the administration after major press coverage. The school and the district will reportedly issue their decision by tomorrow. But what’s worth noting is that the solution didn’t come from anywhere in the school hierarchy. Rather, it was proposed by a student at yesterday’s meeting.

It seems that Hyattsville Middle School’s leadership, and the district leadership, has an awful lot of work to do very quickly if they are to dispel both rumors and establish the clear facts about any censorious intent. They need to be transparent about what changes they’re requesting and to eliminate any sense that gay parents aren’t a problem and that their reasoning isn’t in any way arbitrary or that they have failed to seek genuine solutions.

But it also seems clear that in both this decision and their plans to implement a review process, which would likely only serve to reduce the variety of work available for performance at the school, they should listen to their students and include them in that process going forward. Because, with teachers often silenced in such cases, it seems the students may have the most creative ideas about how to solve problems, and get on with the show.

Update, April 24, 12 noon: Actor Jesse Tyler Ferguson, well-known for his role on the comedy Modern Family, wrote the following on Twitter shortly after 11 am this morning.

As one of the original “Gay Dads” in Spelling Bee & a hopeful future Gay Dad I am so annoyed by this. Pull it together Maryland Middle School. I’m sure there are gay students in your school. Think about how this is impacting them. What a disappointment.

He subsequently added:

The arts are so vital to our school system. They teach kids compassion, trust and team work. The arts build bridges between kids with different backgrounds and economical upbringings and they have always been a safe space for LGBTQ youth. The arts are NOT about discrimination.

Update, April 24, 4:30 pm: A letter from Principal Thornton Boone to the school community has announced that Spelling Bee will go on, however it is delayed by two weeks to make up for lost rehearsal time and with one less performance than originally scheduled. The students participating in the show will be required to have signed permission slips from their parents and students at the area elementary schools will not be invited to performances, which will be noted as being rated PG-13, adopting the movie rating nomenclature.

The letter repeats much of what Mr. Boone said at yesterday’s meeting regarding the show, including concerns about “profane language, racial jokes and sexual innuendo/content and its appropriateness for our young performers.” It reiterates that “the theatre licensing agency declined our requests to alter the musical, which led to our original decision to cancel the upcoming performances.”

While the letter states that, “There are no plans to remove the characters or references from the production,” it also states that on Friday this week, during two one-hour sessions, the school’s CPA Coordinator will be available “for any parent to review the script and suggest changes.”

Because the school has not provided the list of its original request for changes ostensibly made to MTI, which it claims were denied, it is impossible to ascertain what was actually asked of the company and through it, the authors of the show. In addition, if the school stands by the claim that no changes may be made, why is it providing parents with a platform to suggest changes, when it has no certainty that such suggestions may be acted upon. The school does not have the unilateral right to make changes, which it previously acknowledged, so what exactly is the plan of action going forward? As noted in the WJLA TV coverage, MTI has previously accommodated requests for changes, so why does Hyattsville paint them as intransigent, then suggest changes may be forthcoming?

While it is a positive step that the production appears to be happening with its LGBTQ content intact, Hyattsville Middle School and Prince George’s County Public School District remains opaque in both their specific concerns and verifiable efforts to resolve them with the licensing house. Mr. Boone writes, “We understand the anger, confusion and frustration over this matter.” If that is indeed the case, then perhaps he and his colleagues can do better in their communication now by fully documenting their actions, from beginning to end, instead of trying to placate everyone without getting to the root of the issues that have played out so publicly.

At Neil Simon Festival, A Contest Entry Fee That’s No Laughing Matter

January 29th, 2019 § Comments Off on At Neil Simon Festival, A Contest Entry Fee That’s No Laughing Matter § permalink

If one looks around the website of The Neil Simon Festival, a yearly theatre event held in Cedar City, Utah, there’s a list of donors to the company. On that list are seven entries at the $100+ level. But the list is perhaps some 30 short, because that’s the approximate number of unlisted individuals who sent $150 to the Festival last year.

While the $150 sent by those people isn’t described by the Festival as a donation, it effectively is one for all but a single person. The $150 figure is derived from the submission fee playwrights are asked to provide as their entry fee to the Festival’s New Play Contest, now in its ninth year. While the Festival notes that every submission receives a written evaluation as part of the company’s response, it is not a fee for service. Playwrights are not offered the opportunity to submit and not receive an evaluation.

Richard Bugg, founder and executive producer of the Festival, said in a call with Arts Integrity that the $150 submission fee was new as of last year, markedly increased from their prior figure. He said it has had the effect of decreasing the submissions, from nearly 100 scripts to somewhere in the 30s. The deadline for the 2019 contest is 11:59 pm on February 1, so there is not yet a final count for this year.

Asked about the fee, which is notably high compared to other play competitions and workshop programs, Bugg explained that the fee is waived for any college or university that chooses and submits a single selection, though he said that none had done so. The Festival’s website states:

The entry fee is used in three areas: a) to help defray the cost of travel and lodging for the playwright, b) payment to our contest readers for their professional expertise, and c) contest administration (photocopying, advertising, etc. but not salary).

Bugg specifically said that the fee helps to underwrite payment to Douglas Hill, who reviews most of the scripts and writes the critiques. Bugg said that Hill is, “magnificent in looking at the structure of scripts and making suggestions.” The payment also helps to pay other reviewers engaged by Hill as needed. Bugg said he also reads all of the finalists’ scripts.

Hill also spoke to the effect of the submission fee, in an e-mail response to questions from Arts Integrity. “We have received as many as 120 submissions in some years, and as few as 20 in other years,” he wrote. “Unfortunately since the contest is less than 10 years old, and with the recent changes to the contest, it’s a little difficult to provide you with a good approximate number.

“We use it to some degree to weed out,” said Bugg. “We get a higher degree of script that way.” However, Bugg allowed that perhaps some worthy scripts might not be submitted due to the expense.

The season at The Neil Simon Festival, an independent not-for-profit organization, is short, only three weeks this coming year, with two shows a day five days a week, and with most actors performing in multiple roles akin to classic repertory format. The winner of the new play contest first receives a six-day staged reading in the year in which it is selected, and is then produced, for three performances, during the subsequent season. In 2019, that play will be I Left My Dignity in My Other Purse by Shelley Chester.

Asked whether the Festival was familiar with Dramatists Guild guidelines regarding play festivals and contests, Bugg said that he was not. Ralph Sevush, Executive Director for Business Affairs of the Guild, when informed of the $150 submission fee, provided the following guidance from the Guild’s best practices guidance:

BEST PRACTICE: The organization does not require a submission fee.  Furthermore, the organization imposes no other obligation on the author or encumbrance on the work (e.g., ticket sales, participation fees, technical rentals, hiring fees, marketing, or other selling obligations), except for do-it-yourself (“DIY”) productions. The Guild has long disapproved of excessive submission fees, which not only undermine the benefit of any “award” or “royalty,” but also impose financial hardship on the author. Any other authorial obligations should be clearly noted up front; this is particularly true for DIY and similar festivals that require authors to self-produce their works.

Regarding payments to the authors when their winning works are performed, Bugg said that there were none. The playwright receives transportation and housing during both visits. Bugg explained, “There’s no royalties. Just being in the season is reward in our eyes.” Bugg did make clear that other playwrights in the Festival, including the Simon estate, are paid royalties.

The Neil Simon Festival, now in its 17th year, is admittedly a small company, operating on a budget of roughly $300,000 per Bugg. While Hill wrote, “We’re probably best defined as a professional non-Equity company,” that assertion is undermined by a casting notice from the Festival. The notice stipulates availability from June 3 to July 29 in Cedar City and 4-5 weeks of subsequent performance in Park City and Ivins, also in Utah. Regarding compensation, the website says only that, “Housing is provided along with a modest stipend.” Bugg noted that while he and several of the other leaders of the company are members of Actors Equity and do perform in the Festival, “We don’t do contracts for ourselves.”

That the Neil Simon Festival operates a new play contest in which playwrights are asked to pay a fee far above the typical competition, that the selected playwright receives no royalty for their work being presented to a paying public, and that actors are essentially volunteering for an entire summer’s engagement stand as three red flags about the company. These simply are not prevailing industry standards. Professionals are paid for their work.

That the company leadership – Bugg, Hill, and artistic director Peter Sham – all teach at the university level (Bugg and Sham at Southern Utah University and Hill at University of Nevada Las Vegas) also raises questions about the professional standards they are imparting to their students, separate from their Neil Simon duties. The encouragement to “work” for little or no pay runs contrary to the practices and expectations that should be instilled in aspiring artists. The suggestion that playwrights of new plays should be rewarded simply by virtue of being produced undermines the perceived value of authors’ creations. Actors shouldn’t be grateful for a place to sleep, petty cash, and stage time. High submission fees emphasize economic disparity among artists, making it possible only for those of means to enter competitions that require a significant outlay (very possibly diminishing the range and caliber of submissions and the program in the process).

When the clock strikes midnight on February 2, the Neil Simon Festival’s  Play Contest entry period will close. But hopefully with some serious thinking resulting from outside scrutiny, the leadership of the company will rethink the economic model under which they function and the messages they communicate through their operating model. Perhaps they can use it to leverage more funding, locally or nationally. Because however great the experience may be for those involved, exorbitant fees for contest entrants and free labor by actors don’t add up a professional experience. It ends up costing the artists to be involved, even as audiences pay in order to see that work. And that’s no laughing matter.

Tina Landau: “A Home in the Theatre”

January 17th, 2019 § Comments Off on Tina Landau: “A Home in the Theatre” § permalink

 

I was asked to deliver the Keynote Address for BroadwayCon, a three day expo for fans of Broadway theater.  The theme of the Opening Ceremony was “Home,” and included performances by Susan Egan singing “Home” from Beauty and the Beast, Hailey Kilgore with “Home” from The Wiz, as well as Ethan Slater, Ben Cameron, and Anthony Rapp contributing other songs and an opening group performance of “BroadwayCon Today,” set to the tune of “Bikini Bottom Day” from SpongeBob SquarePants – The Musical.This is what I shared with the audience at the Opening of BroadwayCon on Friday, January 11

*   *   *   *

Okay, I want you to take a moment to yourself to finish this sentence: Home is…. Blank.

If you even could fill in that blank and we all said our answers aloud there’d probably be as many different answers as there are people in this room.  In fact, there’s probably no other word that conjures so many meanings except for Love.

I’m obsessed with the word Home and have been since the years of moving from New York to California in high school where we kept switching homes to my various college dorm rooms then back to New York before two years at ART (the American Repertory Theater)  followed by a stint at Trinity Rep before moving back to New York where I blazed through several too expensive or rat-infested apartments which resulted in a period of 17 years in which I moved 19 times. I’m also one of the people who’ve made The Wizard of Oz the most watched movie of all time, and if you look at my bookshelves you’ll find one entirely devoted to titles like The Meaning of Home, Home: A Short History, Place and Identity: The Performance of Home, The Poetics of Space, The Zen of Oz – and my favorite poem is T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets in which he says “Home is where one starts from,” and sometimes at night to help me fall asleep I watch the show House Hunters which is about people searching for homes – and in high school I wrote a song called “Take Me Back Home” and in my musical Dream True, I wrote lyrics for a song called Finding Home – and last season with SpongeBob SquarePants I made a show that was ALL about home: SpongeBob trying to save his home, Pearl wanting to run away from home, Sandy missing her home but coming to find a new one in the community of Bikini Bottom, and Squidward who only truly feels at home with his name in lights on the Great White Way.

Danny Skinner, Lilli Cooper and Ethan Slater in “SpongeBob SquarePants – The Musical”

But what interests me most these days is not feeling or being at home, as much as missing home and the search that results from it, which I believe is the catalyst for great human activity and achievement across centuries and cultures. Home is both “our place of origin and our ultimate destination,” so its identity is two-fold:  the home we remember – which causes the missing – and the home we dream – which causes the searching. And the search is what brings us poetry and relationships and men on the moon – and Broadway shows.

When I was in my twenties, I was sick in bed one day and started watching the ten-hour marathon of a show called The Family, hosted by the self-help guru John Bradshaw, in which he led viewers through an extended series of exercises.  I was asked to close my eyes and recall one moment from when I was a toddler, age 3 or 4 – and I remembered for the first time being outside in the playground at our house, sitting on one of those toy horses with springs that rock back and forth. I remembered the sunlight, the exact angle of its rays as it warmed me – but most vividly I remembered the feeling: free, safe, at home. Then Bradshaw asked me to recall an image from ages 6 to 9. What came was a memory of standing outside the kitchen door to my house, and trying to get in as I always did, but finding the door locked. And again, I remembered above all the feeling: alone, confused, rejected. There were only several years between those two moments but somehow in that time my experience had shifted from feeling at home in the world to feeling displaced in it.

Now I, like most in this room, am beyond blessed to have had that feeling arise from a locked door, as opposed to the millions on our planet who experience it due to  eviction, deportation, exile, imprisonment, or destruction of physical homes due to natural disaster, war, or poverty.  But I do believe that, though our physical realities may vastly differ, whether we’re born into privilege or poverty, whether our childhood was happy or brutal, we all share at our core a kind of spiritual or emotional homesickness – a longing for Home.

What is this thing, Home?  Home is… Blank.  What?

Last night when I asked my girlfriend what home meant to her and if she’s experienced the theater as a home, she answered Yes, she felt that way in high school when she joined the drama club and, to quote her, “suddenly felt I had a place.”  She went on to say that, as an actor, she felt at home on stage because she could express parts of her self that she couldn’t express in her physical home – she could be angry or mean or jealous on stage, but not with her parents at home.

Is Home the space to which you can bring all the parts of yourself and not just the pretty ones? Is Home the space – physical or emotional or spiritual – in which you’re most dimensional and least defined by others? Is Home a feeling of safety – knowing you will be cared for and protected there? Is Home the experience of being seen and known and, above all, accepted – not only by others perhaps but also by your self?

Yes And. At least for me. The word I keep circling back to is Belonging. Home as the experience of belonging.  Belonging in a family or relationship or cast or, in the rare moments you’re truly at home in your own skin and the stars align, the experience of belonging in the universe itself.

But when do we ever feel this?  Maybe never or occasionally. But we all want to feel this right? Because on some cellular level we carry a memory of it within us already – the feeling of belonging and being protected in our first home – yes, I’m talking about being in the womb – the enclosed, dark, safe space from which we emerge… Sounds a bit like a theater, huh? Just saying.

So we go through our lives longing to return to or find for the first time this space, this feeling. And the desire for the feeling becomes the motive of our actions. We walk on roads and go on journeys and make art and make musicals and go to the theater and listen to cast albums as we search for Home.  We travel, we read, we find lovers, make families, build structures, create communities, tell stories as we search for Home.

Which brings me to the theater – the place we tell stories. Most often, stories of the search.

According to Joseph Campbell in The Hero With a Thousand Faces, there’s only one story – it’s called the Monomyth – and it’s told over and over in all cultures, in all times, but through varying specifics.  It’s the story we need to tell because it’s the story of our search for meaning, for wholeness, for Home. And the need for this story is what defines us as humans. It’s the story of Seasons, from death to rebirth, and the story of Night turning to Day, from dark to light – it’s the Hero’s Journey and it’s a story about going away from and returning back to Home. (Also, keep in mind, the “hero” may be a man or a woman, a child, a creature, a community…)

Judy Garland in “The Wizard of Oz”

It’s here we find Odysseus and Aeneas, Dorothy and Luke Skywalker, Ishmael searching for Moby Dick and Alice going into Wonderland.  It’s here we find most any show playing on Broadway right now, all versions of the Monomyth and Hero’s Journey: Harry Potter, Wicked, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Lion King, Hamilton, Book of Mormon, Kinky Boots, the list goes on. And here too we find in Broadway’s history versions of the Monomyth in The Sound of Music, Death of a Salesman, Cabaret, Man of La Mancha, The Miracle Worker, Oliver, How to Succeed, Thoroughly Modern Millie, Hairspray, Billy Elliot – I better stop.  (Of course the danger in our use of the Hero’s Journey template to write a show is that we end up with shows that are more formula than fresh… but that’s for another day.)

As audiences for these shows, we connect to something mythic and subliminal – the Monomyth provides the familiarity of a home terrain.  And when we connect with the specifics of story or character and are able to identify our self in the drama – when we see representation that includes who we are – when we see lost or hidden parts of ourselves brought into light with compassion or love… Then too we find Home.

As people making these shows, we hope for connection as well – to reach across the footlights and feel something back. And in the meantime, we put ourselves in rooms with collaborators we quickly call Family, we establish familiar routines (how we sign in, warm up, set up our dressing rooms), we operate in a space where everyone’s contribution matters, from the director to the props master to the second electrician,  and when we go into a theater, most anywhere in the world, we recognize its signifiers as our own: the stage, the house, its architecture, its shadows, its aisles and fly rails, its ghostlight…. These we know intimately though we may be in a foreign city.

So we make theater and we see theater as a search for Home, and often it becomes one.  The theater is home when it offers us familiarity and intimacy – when it offers us safety as we attempt the impossible and splay open our souls and expose our vulnerabilities and fall on our faces only to discover it’s all okay – It’s okay to do that here. The theater is home when it’s a space where ALL, including the me riddled with shame or doubt or self-loathing, yes ALL, including neurotic me and lonely me and bullied me and isolated me, are welcome. When ALL are welcome.

Today I ask that we continue to share and expand this home of the theater – that we offer to others, not in this room, the refuge and comfort that we’ve all surely found here at times.

May Broadway be a home for an ever-larger family of theater-makers of every race, class, religion, country of origin, immigration status, (dis)ability,  age, gender identity, and sexual orientation who are making stories about and for audiences and fans of every race, class, religion, country of origin, immigration status, (dis)ability, age, gender identity, and sexual orientation. May our home be open, and grow ever larger in size and love.

May you search for and find a home in the theater.

May you find a home, here, today, at this conference –

And know that when we say “Welcome to BroadwayCon,” we are really saying, “Welcome Home.”

 

© Tina Landau, 2019, used by permission

Setting Free The Plays Of 1923

December 20th, 2018 § 1 comment § permalink

While the phrase “public domain” may hold little meaning for you (or make your eyes glaze over), January 1, 2019 will mark a significant milestone in that seemingly arcane distinction. That’s because at the beginning of the new year, creative works will once again begin to enter the public domain – that is to say that they will no longer be subject to copyright protection or restrictions – for the first time in 20 years.

Why the gap? Because in 1998 Congress enacted an extension on copyright protection (named for entertainer and congressman Sonny Bono, who fought for such legislation). So while works from 1922 have been in the public domain for two decades, it is only now that 1923 works move out of copyright. This means they can be produced, adapted, copied as anyone sees fit. If you’ve always wanted to create a radical modern retelling of Felix Salten’s Bambi, it’s all yours – provided you don’t accidentally incorporate elements which were unique to the Disney animated film, because those bits belong to Disney and they’re likely to vigorously protect their intellectual property.

While there have been various articles and web essays about what enters the public domain imminently, they have tended to concentrate on books, movies and songs – for example, you will no longer have to pay for the rights to “Yes, We Have No Bananas” going forward, should you be inclined to use it. You’ll also be able set Robert Frost’s “Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening” to a hip-hop track and not owe his estate a dime.

Condola Rashad in “Saint Joan” at Manhattan Theatre Club in 2018 (Photo by Joan Marcus)

When it comes to theatre, the most notable work – and it has been noted elsewhere – that will come into the public domain is George Bernard Shaw’s Saint Joan. That means if Manhattan Theatre Club had just waited a year to produce the play, they would have saved, assuming a 6% author’s royalty, about $125,000 on their production. That said, Shaw’s Saint Joan is just one of many versions of the story, so keep your hands off everything from Jean Anouilh’s The Lark and Jane Anderson’s very recent Mother of the Maid.

This prompts the question: what other theatrical work is about to be up for grabs for all takers? 

Certainly nothing as quite as classic as the Shaw work, although Elmer Rice’s The Adding Machine is widely acknowledged as an important work by an important playwright, even if recent outings are few. There was a musical adaptation that found success a decade ago.

A flip through the pages of the venerable Burns Mantle Best Plays books for 1922-23 and 1923-24 is a great survey, and while the synopses that appear for most plays suggest there’s a lot that’s best left in the past, there are some plays that might be worth looking at again, either to produce on a budget (no royalties), or adapt for modern audiences. Mind you, there’s no racial or ethnic diversity to speak of in the mix, unless you count Hungarian, but of course now anyone can set that right. Maybe there are shows out there ripe for musicalization, with no strings attached?

Here’s a cursory sampling, in no particular order:

  • Will Shakespeare by Clemence Dane, which posited a love triangle in which Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe fight for the affections of one Mary Fitton, lady in waiting. It climaxes with a fight between Will and Kit which climaxes with (spoiler alert) Kit falling on his own knife. One can never have to many plays chronicling a life which went largely unrecorded by history.
  • Mary the Third was a mid-career work by Rachel Crothers, a highly successful playwright whose greatest success would nonetheless come with her last produced piece, Susan and God in 1937. Mary the Third looked at marriage across three generations of women in the same family.
  • Humoresque by Fannie Hurst was the story of a an up-from-the-slums violinist, and had already been a silent film based on Hurst’s short story. It was later considerably reworked by Clifford Odets and Zachary Gold into a film released in 1946, with the violinist now caught in a romance with his wealthy patroness, played by Joan Crawford.
  • My Aunt from Ypsilanti was “adapted from the French” and while the play seemed entirely negligible, you gotta love that title, the only Broadway show to ever use the place name Ypsilanti. Of course, titles can’t be copyrighted, so if no one stole this one by now, it’s unlikely to see  a resurgence.
  • Swashbucklers weren’t reserved for the screen, and 1923 saw the stage debut of Rafael Sabatini’s Scaramouche. One Sheldon Stanwood played the French hero, later embodied in 1952 on the screen by Stewart Granger. No records survive (actually, just didn’t look) as to whether the title character did the fandango.
“Scaramouche”
  • Frederick Lonsdale was a successful writer of musical librettos, but it’s his plays that have lived on, including The Last of Mrs. Cheney and On Approval,which will come into public domain in 2021 and 2023 respectively. But his Aren’t We All? from 1923 was in fact his last show to be seen on Broadway, in a starry 1985 production led by Claudette Colbert and Rex Harrison. 
  • The sharp-eyed might question the inclusion of Outward Bound by Sutton Vane, but while it premiered on January 7, 1924, the Best Plays book notes that it was copyrighted in 1923. This metaphysical mystery, a thematic precursor to the TV’s Lost (oh, right, spoiler alert), was sufficiently popular to yield two movie versions, first in 1930, with Leslie Howard reprising his stage role, and again with Paul Henreid in the Howard role in a 1943 version called Between Two Worlds (oops, again, spoiler alert).
“Outward Bound”
  • The same “Say, wasn’t that a 1924 show?” query might be applied to Beggar on Horseback by George S. Kaufman and Marc Connelly but once again, while it premiered on February 12, 1924, its copyright was 1923 – the same year as another collaboration by the duo, the musical Helen of Troy, New York, which had songs by the team of Kalmar and Ruby. Somewhat surprisingly, it’s the play which seemed to have legs, as it turns up now and again on various stages, though its last Broadway run was in 1970.
  • Ferenc Molnar had a solid run of hits between 1902 and 1941, including Liliom (which later became Carousel) and The Play’s The Thing (later adapted by Tom Stoppard as Rough Crossing). His 1923 fantasy of royalty, The Swan, translated by M.P. Baker, would become a film in 1956, starring Grace Kelly and Alec Guinness. It was one of two Molnar plays to debut on Broadway in October of that year, the other being the more tragically-minded Launzi, adapted by Edna St. Vincent Millay, about a young woman, rebuffed in love, who tries suicide, fails, is romantically rebuffed again, then acts as if she were dead, taking to wearing an angel’s wings.
  • Not to be outdone by Kaufman & Connelly and Molnar, George M. Cohan wrote two shows that premiered in 1923, doing the book, music and lyrics for The Rise of Rosie O’Reilly, which gave Ruby Keeler her Broadway debut, a musical, and The Song and Dance Man, a play. Just to one up the competition, Cohan starred in the latter piece – and the two shows opened in the same week, the former on Christmas and the latter on New Year’s Eve.
  • Cervantes’s Don Quixote predates concerns like copyright, so the material has actually long been available for free use. But for those who have grown tired of Man of La Mancha, they might want to delve into some archive and find out if there’s anything to be salvaged from Sancho Panza, the 1923 musical by Melchior Lengyel, with a score by Hugo Felix, which seems to have emphasized the wrong character, no doubt contributing to its brief run. Even 95 years ago, marketing mattered.
  • Years before Hedy Lamarr worked her white-washed wiles on Walter Pidgeon, Annette Margulies embodied the “native girl” Tondeleyo in the potboiler White Cargo, itself adapted from a novel called Hell’s Playground by Ida Vera Simonton. A British film of the play preceded the Lamarr version, and faced censorship for sensual content, even in the pre-Production Code days.

Those with forethought may have already been working on resurrections or revivals of some of these works, but have kept silent until the copyright fully expires at 12:00 am on January 1. But if we’ve had dueling The Wild Partys and both a play and musical called Hamilton, who’s to say there might not be multiple Aunts From Ypsilanti in our future. Dramaturgs and literary managers, playwrights and composers, artistic directors: start your engines. The new year will be here before you can say “Scaramouche”!

Update, December 31, 2018: Subsequent to the publication of this post, I was contacted by Glenn Fleishman, who wrote the excellent Smithsonian piece linked above. According to his research, while Saint Joan debuted in 1923, it was not copyrighted until 1924. So if this Shaw play is on your theatre’s schedule for 2019, you may want to delve deeper into its copyright history before deciding not to pay royalties on it.

Teaching Students & Audiences About Swastikas, The SS and “The Sound of Music”

December 18th, 2018 § Comments Off on Teaching Students & Audiences About Swastikas, The SS and “The Sound of Music” § permalink

If you see a stage production of The Sound of Music, here are some words you won’t hear: Nazi. Hitler.

Here are some words you will hear in the stage version: Gauleiter. Anschluss. Third Reich.

Regardless of whether you see The Sound of Music on stage or watch the perennially popular 1965 movie, here’s another word you won’t hear: Holocaust.

None of this is meant as criticism of The Sound of Music in either version. They are simply facts about the musical’s book and screenplay. Coming 14 and 20 years after the end of World War II, the stage and screen musicals (respectively) arrived in a period when a significant majority of the theatre and filmgoing public still held vivid memories of the war, and countless stories – both real and fictional – had proliferated in its wake, some coming while battles and atrocities still raged. Even casual mentions of associated terms and names surely brought instant recognition of the entirety of the perfidy that corrupted Germany and killed millions.

The real-life Trapp Family Singers

The Sound of Music focuses its attention on a heavily fictionalized account of the real-life Trapp Family Singers, who charmed Austria in the late 1920s and 1930s, leaving for America in 1938 following the country’s annexation by Germany (aka the Anschluss) so that the paterfamilias, a former naval captain, would not be pressed into service by the Third Reich. Rodgers and Hammerstein, the famed lyricist and composer working on what would be their final show together, and Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, the book writers, foregrounded the romance of Captain von Trapp and the governess to his children, Maria, with the rise of the of the Reich lightly threaded through the show, only to come into its fullest focus in the climactic escape of the family from Nazi clutches. Seven years after the Broadway premiere of The Sound of Music, John Kander, Fred Ebb, and Joe Masteroff would make the rise and intent of the Nazis much more explicit, and central, in the musical Cabaret.

While the overall structure of The Sound of Music remains the same in both the stage and film versions, there are many differences. In the stage version, the characters of Max Detweiler and Elsa von Schrader are, at the very least, appeasers of the German rise to power in Austria (“What’s going to happen is going to happen,” says Max, “Just be sure it doesn’t happen to you”) and at worst, potential collaborators. Indeed, unlike the film, where the Captain’s romance with Elsa is ended almost exclusively because of his evident love for Maria, in the stage version the couple break apart over their differing viewpoints of how to respond to the ominous political shift, laid out in the song “No Way To Stop It,” which does not appear in the film.

Program cover for LaGuardia High School’s The Sound of Music

This dramaturgical prologue is provided in order to consider the recent debate at New York’s LaGuardia High School – almost 60 years since the musical’s debut, 73 years after the end of the war – over the presence of swastikas in a high school production of the stage musical. As first reported by the New York Daily News, the school’s principal insisted upon the removal of swastikas from the set and costumes of the show just before it began its 10-performance run. Students involved in the production protested, and a compromise was reached, in which the presence of the swastika was greatly reduced, but not eliminated: it was prominently rendered as banners (on video screens) flanking the stage during the Kaltzberg Musical Festival where the family competes late in the show, and as a cloth flag somewhat inexplicably draped over a gate in the convent where the climactic scene takes place (a nun pulled it down at LaGuardia, echoing the film moment when Captain von Trapp removes and tears apart a Nazi flag hung on his house).

The swastika was also to have appeared, as it would have in Germany and its conquered territories in that era, on armbands worn by military personnel. The compromise saw it replaced by the stylized twin lightning bolts that were the symbol of the Schutzstaffel, the SS, originally Hitler’s personal guards which grew into the Nazi elite force, charged with planning and carrying out the eradication of Jews, as well as Romani, queer, disabled and other specified identities which did not conform to the ostensibly “pure” Aryan characteristics. That the SS symbol was acceptable while the swastika was not has to do with a lack of historical understanding of what the former represented, while the latter, alarmingly, is in ongoing use by neo-Nazi organizations and vandals to this day, and therefore better recognized and instantly repellant.

The script of The Sound of Music does not require swastika banners, though it does specify SS uniforms, where the swastika would have been seen. The placement of either symbol, or the frequency of its use, misses the larger issue that must be considered when producing The Sound of Music today, namely that the show minimizes the historical underpinnings of the story in favor of romance, and that today, in an era when white nationalism has raised its vile head in international politics and in America, productions shouldn’t lean in to sanitization. That’s not to say that the text can or should be altered, but by avoiding the most obvious symbols of a regime known for unspeakable atrocities, productions risk underplaying its horrors. That the swastika scares people is only appropriate.

To be sure, schools will want to take care that images of the show featuring Nazi symbols and paraphernalia are not taken out of context, something that can occur all too easily in this era when everyone has a camera at the ready in their cell phone, and when such images can quickly be shared widely via social media. In the wake of the reports on the LaGuardia dispute, many teachers have written on social media about the care they take during rehearsals and performances regarding the use of props, costumes and photos thereof, often keeping those materials under strict control. One teacher wrote on Facebook of ritually burning the Nazi armbands after the final performance, so they could not be misappropriated.

Signage at LaGuardia High during the run of The Sound of Music

In a program note, presumably written and printed prior to the eruption over swastikas, the LaGuardia principal Lisa Mars, who also billed herself as executive producer of the show, wrote of the need to delve “deeper into the plot,” citing both Nazism and the Third Reich; an accompanying note from director Lee Lobenhofer invokes facism. A program insert, likely added in the wake of the controversy, headed “Stand with us, United Against Hatred,” explained that the students and faculty of the school had asked that a portion of ticket proceeds be donated to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. “LaGuardia Arts stand united against hatred and we ask that you join with us in denouncing all forms of hate and intolerance. When we say, ‘Never again will those atrocities of war be repeated,’ never again must be a promise kept.”

All of these statements and sentiments are not merely admirable, but necessary. Unfortunately, whether in advance or in response to outcry, the materials provided to the audience, which thanks to the number of performances and size of the theatre was some 10,000 people, didn’t say enough. While students involved in the show, or throughout the school, may have participated in some supplemental educational initiatives designed to ensure that they understood the full scope of what is only touched upon in the musical, the public statements made an assumption of knowledge that simply may not be the case. There should have been several pages in the program explaining all of the terms pertinent to the era, both those used in the show and those left out, as well as an overview of what took place in Europe during Hitler’s rampage. A related lobby display could have reinforced the messaging. We do need to delve deeper, but that excavation was not in significant evidence for the public at LaGuardia.

In April of this year, a survey by the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany found a widespread lack of knowledge in the United States about Hitler’s rise to power and the scope of the Holocaust. As a result, LaGuardia – and all schools, community groups, and even professional companies planning to produce The Sound of Music– must take every opportunity to educate not only students but all audiences on the real facts (not alternative facts) about the viciousness of Nazi Germany and those who facilitated its rise, either overtly or through inaction, and the terrors that came to pass under its rule.

Yes, introducing the full reality of Nazism may mitigate the romance and sweetness of The Sound of Music, but at a time when Holocaust ignorance and outright denial has found increased footing, no opportunities should be missed. If the show is produced solely so we can sing along with “Do Re Mi” or “Climb Ev’ry Mountain,” then its educational value is reduced, regardless of how often “the flag with the black spider” appears.

Producing The Sound of Music without swastikas plays into the hands of those who want to minimize or eradicate the truth of Nazi Germany, of why that symbol holds such terrifying power. But retaining that ugly symbol is only the start even with school productions, where successive generations (and their parents, siblings and friends) must be clearly taught what happened in that era, to more than just Austrians during 1938, so that we can educate against virulent policies that seek to turn certain groups into “the other,” to be insulted, excluded, and eradicated, in direct renunciation of our common humanity. We must not risk blessing only one homeland forever, as the song goes, but all of them that wish to unite in peace.

This article references the Williamson Music edition of The Sound of Music © 1960, as found in the collection of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center.

Worry About The Censorship and Homophobia First, Then The Prayers

November 14th, 2018 § Comments Off on Worry About The Censorship and Homophobia First, Then The Prayers § permalink

As word about a scuffle over a theatre production at Mitchell High School in Mitchell County NC has started to make its way beyond the local North Carolina media, accounts seem to be placing their emphasis on what is really the least of the problems there. After all, in America, people are free to pray as they see fit. Less than 30 people gathered to pray over the presentation of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged) to a high school audience. What’s getting lost, or not reported at all, is the censorship that occurred, and the homophobic outbursts during the performance from students and afterwards from the clergy.

On Thursday, November 8, while 10th graders were taking the PSAT exams, students at Mitchell High were treated to a performance of Shakespeare (abridged) by the local Parkway Playhouse, which had produced the show a few weeks earlier. The presentation was arranged by the local Toe River Arts Council, which has brought all manner of arts offerings to the local community.

The majority of the show was performed until about 15 minutes to the end when, in the words of Dwight Chiles (via e-mail), one of the three actors in the company, “We were just starting to get to the audience participation section when I saw the managing director of Parkway in the wings signaling to me that we needed to cut the show. So I ran offstage leaving the other two actors continuing the show to talk with her. She said we had run out of time and that we needed to end the show now.  I asked if we should jump to the ‘Faster, Backwards’ section and she said, “No, we have to stop now.”

The Parkway Playhouse production of “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged)”

He continued, “I ran back onstage just as the other two actors were about to pick an Ophelia and I told the audience that we actually have run out of time and that we were not going to get to finish but to make sure they go home and watch Lion Kingso they can see how Hamletends but to remember that it is a Shakespeare Tragedy and everyone dies at the end and then the curtain started closing on us. It wasn’t until we got back to the theatre to unload that we found out the show was shut down because of content.”

What has been reported, primarily by the local TV station WLOS, is that there was “inappropriate content” in the show, though no one has officially specified on the record exactly what content was considered so objectionable that it required that the show be summarily shut down. News accounts say that texts from both students and teachers to the school and district administration prompted the action. WLOS cited the portrayal of alcohol consumption and suicide (spoiler alert: Romeo and Juliet commit suicide) as the offending actions.

The school superintendent, Chad Calhoun, has not responded to several e-mail requests from Arts Integrity for an interview.

A silly and inspired travesty of the Bard of Avon’s oeuvre, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged), the first show from the Reduced Shakespeare Company, has been playing internationally for some 30 years. It is widely produced in high schools, and upcoming and recent past productions, per the Broadway Play Publishing website, include Lee High School, Huntsville AL (2019), St. William of York Catholic Church, Stafford VA (2019), Hawaii Baptist Academy, Honolulu (2018), Prattville High School, Pratville AL (2018), Oak Glen High School Newell WV (2018), Newton County Day School of the Sacred Heart, Newton MA (2018), Dalton High School, Dalton GA (2018), The Academy of Classical Christian Studies, Oklahoma City OK  (2017), Cedar Fall High School, Cedar Falls IA (2017), and St. Teresa’s Academy, Kansas City MO (2017).

Unlike many shows, where authors do not permit alterations to the text as written, that is not the case with Shakespeare (Abridged). In an e-mail, co-author Jess Winfield wrote, “As far as I know, we’re unique among licensors in that we not only encourage but practically demand that productions adapt the text to suit the cast, the audience, and the news of the day. There are a few places in the script that specifically call for update and adaptation.” Winfield provided the authors’ note from the published text, which reads in part:

Far be it from us writers to tell you directors and actors how to stage the show; but having performed it ourselves about a billion times, we’d thought we’d offer you a smidgen of performance advice.

The show was developed through improvisation and ad lib, and is predicated on the conceit that these three guys are making the whole thing up as they go along, getting by on blind enthusiasm and boundless energy wherever they lack talent or any real clue about Shakespeare’s work. It’s important that the actors be genuinely surprised by each line, each action, and each turn of events. For example, although the audience participation section of Act Two is presented here based on our broad experience with how audiences generally respond, each audience is different. The actors should respond honestly to the audience’s performance, and their own, rather than stick blindly to the written text.

Jeff Bachar, artistic director of Parkway Playhouse, a professional non-Equity theatre, notes via e-mail that when asked by Toe River Arts to present the show at Mitchell High, “We, Parkway Playhouse, were asked to come up with a ‘PG-13’ version of the performance which we did.  We removed profanity and toned down the sexual innuendo.  There other small changes throughout such as: instead of mentioning drinking a six-pack the actors substituted ‘a bunch of Red Bull’.”

Bachar, confirming Chiles’ account of the suspension of the performance, also pointed out, “What has gone largely unmentioned is the fact that there were derogatory remarks made by a few students towards the actors.  These related to being transgender and homosexual.”

Chiles confirms that, writing, “There were a few homophobic slurs and things thrown at us on stage such as when I ran out in my pink tights I heard one student say ‘gay’ and few more said it again during the stage kiss in Romeo and Juliet.  Another time is when my character said “trans-global political thriller,” an audience member yelled “tranny,” which doesn’t make sense. As far as I could see there was no action taken by the teachers to stop people from saying things.”

In the wake of the performance shutdown, there have been two apologies by Toe River Arts, from both the executive director and board chairman, taking responsibility for not having more fully vetted the text and agreeing that there was inappropriate material.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So while a toned-down version of a popular high school show was shut down over content, beyond vague references to drinking (which had apparently already been cut) and suicide (a legitimate concern among today’s teens, but hardly surprising given the source material and Romeo and Juliet’s place in most high school curricula), there’s been no specific accounting over what was so inappropriate that the show couldn’t continue.

When the next day, the much-discussed prayer circle of less than three dozen was organized, off school grounds but adjacent to a familiar yellow school bus, it didn’t exactly produce a groundswell of response for a school with 600-700 students.

But in the wake of the prayer circle, local Pastor John McKinney, writing on Facebook that he applauded the school for their actions, shared an image of a petition he was starting, titled “Petition to Micthell [sic] County School Board” with a petition summary and background reading “Toe River Art [sic] Council or any organization of such nature,”and an action requested which read:

We, the undersigned, are concerned citizens who urge our leaders to act now to ban Toe River Art Council or any other organization from all Mitchell County Public Schools that would promote Homosexuality, Incest, Suicide, or any other that would be contrary to life. We are showing by signing that we support you and stand with you to make this decision.

The manner of dissemination of the petition, or its success, is unknown. However, it makes clear that there is censorship afoot, and that the portrayal of certain actions or lives are anathema to some in Mitchell County, and they want to impose their will on the entire community. The anti-LGBTQ stance, that causes so many young people to leave their homes and hometowns as soon as possible, is unmistakable.

Thinking back on what he thought might have run afoul of the supposed lines that were crossed, Chiles wrote, “I am guessing the depiction of drinking was when Romeo drank the poison from the apothecary and we used a flask for the poison. Also, when Benvolio tells Romeo to go to the feast of Capulets he says ‘there is free beer’ which is in the script.  The only time we used coarse language is in the Othellorap. One actor said ‘Beyotch’ and we didn’t edit it out because we needed to keep the rhyme with ‘heeyotch’. The suicide was the end of Romeo and Julietand the actor playing Juliet used a retractable knife and did the whole ‘stabby, stabby’ bit from the original production.  The stage kiss was also between Romeo and Juliet and it was just that a stage kiss.  Inches away from actually kissing each other.”

Asked whether he was concerned that the incident would harm Parkway Playhouse’s relationship with the Toe River Arts Council, Bachar replied, “I believe that continuing conversation with TRAC will help our relationship continue; however, in my opinion they censored our performance and I see that as contrary to their mission.  Regarding the schools, my belief is that we will be able to continue our involvement with them eventually but it will take a great deal of dialogue.  There is a petition in circulation that, if successful, would hinder free speech within Mitchell County schools so we would like to work with the school board there to make sure that does not occur.”

Chiles, reflecting on the incident notes, “One of the issues that I am having problems with is the apology that Toe River Arts Council issued that really just threw us under the bus especially our director for being a high school theatre teacher and saying that we did not do our job in editing the performance for the school.  But when the representative from Toe River did not show up to our rehearsal to help edit we did the best we could without any guidelines except it needed to be PG-13.  That really wasn’t fair.”

The question now is: will certain religious leaders and the censorially-minded, gender-and-sexuality-restrictive minority of Mitchell County succeed in restricting access to or funding for the arts in their area? Or will the majority of community take a closer look at what has transpired in their midst and speak out to make certain that area students receive an education that helps them to be well-rounded citizens who are prepared to compete in the world of the 21stcentury, in Mitchell County or beyond? In any event, it’s fair to hope that they’re all learning about their Constitutional rights, including the separation of church and state, and the right to free speech.

Because god help Shakespeare, in full or abridged, if the first group succeeds.

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