High School Theatre Wickedness In The Eye Of The Beholder

August 5th, 2014 § 7 comments § permalink

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.47.28 AMYears from now, when the musical Wicked is eventually made available for school and amateur productions, will some high school administrator declare it inappropriate? After all, among its many plot strands is the story of (spoiler alert) the manipulative Madame Morrible, a school headmistress who schemes against those in Oz who don’t conform precisely to her standards, be they green girl or anthropomorphic animal. It’s a terrible portrait of pedagogy gone wrong and surely doesn’t foster the collaborative, supportive relationships that school leaders must seek with each successive generation of students, as well as with their faculty and staff. From that perspective, it’s seditious.

I’m reminded of this element of Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holtzman’s massively popular musical as I consider the challenges to high school theatre that I’ve read about, heard about and involved myself in. Recently, I was engaged to deliver the opening keynote at the Educational Theatre Association’s (EdTA) annual conference for high school teachers. During the question and answer session that followed, one attendee asked the others how many had had shows turned down when they sought approval for them. Roughly a quarter of those in the room raised their hands. In follow-up, they were asked how many had wanted to do certain shows, but didn’t even try because they were sure they couldn’t get approval. Virtually every teacher raised their hand.

Because I don’t believe that these teachers had all been contemplating Oh! Calcutta!, I find myself wondering about their internal decision-making, their self-censorship. Surely they weren’t considering shows which would be blatantly inappropriate in a school setting, so what are those shows that they thought would be good for their students, but which they didn’t even dare raise as a possibility? That might make for an interesting survey in itself.

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.52.55 AMOf course, what’s acceptable to the powers that be at one school, in one town, may be considered problematic in another. Earlier this year in New Hampshire, Sweeney Todd was canceled at Timberlane High School (since reversed) even as another school just a few towns away readied their production of the same show. In 2012, Sonja Hansen lost her position directing shows at Loveland High in Ohio after her production of Legally Blonde was declared inappropriate, yet according to the EdTA’s annual survey, its was the fourth most popular musical in high schools nationally.

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.49.54 AMSo I’m very interested in the new “Public Performance Policy” that has been put into place at the Junior/Senior High in South Williamsport PA, where a production of Spamalot has been canceled by the principal for reasons that remain unclear. The drama director Dawn Burch asserts that Principal Jesse Smith stated, in an e-mail, that the show’s gay content was a factor. Smith himself has been silent since this story broke, and while the school administration has taken exception to one element of the first report about the issue (since corrected), it has yet to produce the e-mail in question to clear things up. Two “Right To Know” requests have been filed seeking that e-mail and related documents; one of those requests is mine.

The timing of the Public Performance Policy, revealed last night at a meeting for the school board, is certainly no coincidence, coming between the initial assertions of anti-gay bias and the release of clarifying materials. As read by the school superintendent, Dr. Mark Stamm, it states:

General Guidelines: Public performances serve as a capstone project for students to showcase their dedication, determination, and talents for their peers and for their families. Performances must be age appropriate for participating students and audiences. Material that is generally considered offensive, suggestive, or demeaning based on race, religion, age, gender, or sexual orientation is not appropriate for school performances.

The first sentence of the policy, describing “showcasing dedication, determination, and talents,” is nicely affirmative ­– until one notices that there’s no mention of learning or growth, which would seem essential in any school activity, even at South Williamsport, where the drama program is extracurricular, and the drama director an outside contractor, not a teacher. That said, any adult working with young people in a leadership position is a teacher, accredited or not.

However, it’s worth noting that there is a mission statement for the drama program on the school’s website which admirably speaks to deeper value. It reads:

Our mission is to provide students with the opportunity to better themselves through the Arts. Whether it is onstage or backstage, in the production crew or artistic departments, theater helps all people more deeply understand our place in our modern, multicultural, globalized world.

As an aside: finding the drama information on the school website isn’t entirely logical. While there’s a section for clubs, which includes “Yearbook,” “Chemistry,” “Student Council” and “Songwriters and Musicians,” it doesn’t include “Drama.” The Athletic Program has its own site, with its own URL separate from the school district’s. But “Drama” falls under “Departments,” along with “Guidance” and “Nurse,” to which it seems wholly unrelated. How very odd to set it apart in this way.

But returning to the Public Performance Policy, the second sentence isn’t particularly troublesome, so long as it is not used as a justification to infantilize students by feeding them dramatic pabulum. But it’s the third sentence sentence where things turn tricky. While the phrase about not demeaning any parties is admirable (although in their seeming haste, they neglected disability, among other concerns), the language which begins the sentence is limiting, yet vague. “Offensive” and “suggestive” are completely subjective, presumably to be determined according to Justice Stewart’s famous phrase about what constitutes obscenity: “I’ll know it when I see it.” But no two people probably agree about what is offensive, or what is suggestive.

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.50.32 AMIf this policy is meant to be general guidance for teachers (and contractors), shouldn’t it be constructed as such? Wouldn’t it be better to use affirmative language about supporting and advancing society through inclusive representations of race, religion, age, gender, or sexual orientation, instead of saying it simply won’t demean people on those grounds? As it is now, the policy seems more a declaration for the public, and a very general yardstick that teachers might be struck with should they violate its amorphous tenets. Since the school already has a practice of the principal approving the drama productions, it seems that process would presumably address content concerns, based upon reading the text and exploring productions and educational materials from other schools as aids, but in an open dialogue that would negate the need for future Right To Know inquiries. That said, I don’t favor shows going to any manner of public vote, and school boards shouldn’t decide play selection any more than they tell a coach what athletic plays to run.

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.49.15 AMI wonder, however, where the concerns were when the South Williamsport High School did Grease and Once Upon A Mattress? Certainly there are those who would find the plot points about pregnancy out of wedlock in those shows both offensive and suggestive. Grease, frankly, is rife with suggestiveness, at least as I construe it, but I don’t happen to find it offensive; but it was more than enough to cause a school in Missouri, following a 2006 production, to cancel the next show on the schedule: The Crucible. What about Urinetown, produced at the school in 2009? All that talk of toilets and body functions must have offended the sensibilities of some in South Williamsport. The world’s most famous teen suicide story, Romeo and Juliet, was staged, but I wonder whether the school provided educational programs and material to students and the public about the dangers of romanticizing exactly the sort of behavior Shakespeare depicted?

Was everyone sanguine with the following plot points, drawn from two synopses on the website of the licensing house Music Theatre International:

Soon after, attractive and seductive women appear and slowly surround him (“With You”). At first, Pippin is enjoying the romanticism, however, the mood quickly changes and the women bombard him. Pippin is pulled into numerous exotic orgies.

*  *  *

Audrey has forgotten her sweater, and Orin slaps her around for it…. Orin then pulls out a container of laughing gas, complete with a gas mask and puts it on himself to get high… Seymour feeds Orin’s body parts to the plant.

Screen Shot 2014-08-05 at 10.48.23 AMObviously they passed muster, because Pippin and Little Shop of Horrors were produced at the school before Dawn Burch was hired. With this new policy, could any of the aforementioned shows be done again? Indeed, since there are – sad to say and sad as it is – still people who find homosexuality offensive, would LGBT life in any play or musical be precluded from the South Williamsport stage in deference to their reactionary sensibilities?

At the EdTA conference, I repeatedly counseled teachers to cultivate open and honest communication about their work with their department heads, their principals, even their superintendents if possible. Support for sports seems a given at our schools, but support for all of the arts, and it seems theatre in particular, must be developed over time – and started anew each time a key leadership position changes personnel.

When cancelations emerge from behind school doors into the public consciousness, locally and nationally, genuine rifts inside school communities and even entire towns are always possible, with long-lasting and detrimental effects on drama programs. Some schools, such as in Everett MA, do away with drama altogether, deciding a fair and open discussion about dramatic value is simply a nuisance – and therefore the program is as well. Yet are sports shut down when a student is seriously injured, publicly? No. In the case of football, it remains celebrated, even as data on traumatic brain injury mounts, because athletic prowess and competition is honored. It is the thought and expression of theatre that seems to be the dangerous undertaking in so many instances.

Another question I now field with some regularity is whether it’s wise to speak up publicly about these conflicts, bringing them broader attention than they might otherwise receive. My response is that it does carry risk, but if people believe in the power of theatre to not only entertain but educate, in the best interest of the participating students first and foremost, staying silent only allows repression to flourish, and for students to be consigned to the blandest, safest, time-worn work possible. And doesn’t Wicked (among countless works of literature) teach us about the dangers of people working behind the scenes, censoring, excluding, supposedly in the best interest of the community at large?

Having cited Wicked twice, let me finish with a few lyrics that hark back to L. Frank Baum’s Oz stories. I think this pair of couplets, devised by master satirist Tom Lehrer almost 50 years ago, speak simply and directly to slippery words like “offensive” and “suggestive.”

When correctly viewed
Everything is lewd,
I could tell you things about Peter Pan
And the Wizard of Oz, there’s a dirty old man.
 

On Stage In Milford, With Sweet Understanding

May 5th, 2014 § 5 comments § permalink

Program cover for Little Shop of Horrors

If you somehow managed to materialize in the auditorium of Jonathan Law High School in Milford CT this past weekend just as the band began the opening strains of Little Shop of Horrors, you would have simply thought yourself at a perfectly enjoyable production of that infectious musical, well-rendered by its teen cast. As the show progressed, however, you might have begun to notice something peculiar, a motif in the costumes, worn by every character: a purple ribbon, with a small circle affixed to it.

Of course, if you had seen the news in the prior week, if you drove into the high school lot, if you read the program, you would know that this was not your average high school production. One week earlier at the school, 16-year-old junior Maren Sanchez had been killed by another student, reportedly after she declined his invitation to the prom.

Director Michael Mele

Maren was a vigorous participant in many school activities; the drama club was high among them. On Saturday afternoon, and presumably at the two other performances, the drama club’s faculty advisor and director of the production, Michael Mele, took to the stage pre-show to speak about Maren. He also explained that when the tragedy took place, he assumed the production wouldn’t happen, and that it was the other students who wanted to go forward, as a tribute to Maren. In the program he wrote, “We feel that by proceeding with the show we are doing what she would want us to, to get up there and do the best damn show this school has ever seen.”

Having never attended a show at Jonathan Law before, it’s impossible for me to say whether it met that standard. But I can say that it met an even higher one: that these young students performed together as very likely the bravest cast that I have ever seen.

*    *    *

audrey mushnik seymour hughand audrey II seymourWhen we read about a tragedy like Maren’s death, and we read about them far too often, I suspect that most of us feel helpless. “I wish there was something I could do,” is a refrain I’ve heard, and thought myself. In the case of a natural disaster, some may go and donate blood, countless more make a financial contribution. If the tragedy literally hits closer to home, there may be more that can personally be done.

As I read various accounts of Maren’s death, I felt helpless once again, even though it did hit close to home: Milford is the town adjacent to Orange, where I grew up. As a teen, I spent a good bit of time in Milford, because that’s where the movie theatres were; even now when I take the train to see family and friends, I get on and off at the Milford station.

cryal ronette chiffon audreyWhen I first read that Maren was an enthusiastic member of the drama club, I began to wonder whether there was in fact something I could do; when I learned she was to have been the person animating the ravenous plant Audrey II, I suspected I might be able to help. Imagining that if the show went forward they might need a puppeteer, I wrote to Mr. Mele (who I’ve never met before) and said that if they needed someone to come in and perform as Audrey II, I had connections to the puppetry community through my time at The O’Neill Theater Center, and I’d be honored to help. I wrote perhaps seven hours after Maren’s death.

On Sunday morning, a bit after 8 am, Mr. Mele returned my e-mail (apologizing for not responding sooner, if you can imagine). He wrote that the decision had been made to go forward with the show and that, yes, they could use help. I immediately sent messages to Stephanie D’Abruzzo of Avenue Q fame; to Pam Arciero, who runs the O’Neill’s Puppetry Conference; and to Martin P. Robinson, who designed and performed Audrey II in the original production and the Broadway revival. They are all Sesame Street veterans as well. Stephanie called within 20 minutes and as I reached for the phone, an e-mail popped in from Pam. This is all before 9 am on a Sunday morning.

audrey II and austin squareBy Monday, they had roped in Bart Roccoberton, head of the Puppetry Arts program at the University of Connecticut; by the end of the day, Bart had cleared the decks for a UConn student, Austin Costello, who had performed Audrey II before, to complete his academic work and be in Milford from Tuesday through the final show on Saturday. Austin carried the heaviest load, my puppetry friends had made the right calls, all I did was set things in motion. Inexplicably, they thanked me for doing so.

When I met Austin for the first time following Saturday’s matinee, I explained the chain of events that had brought him to the high school. My instinct was that if the show was to go on, it would have been very difficult for another student to take their friend’s role so soon, and to bring in a student from another high school would have been challenging in its own way. With someone who knew the show, who could focus on the work so that the drama club could focus on both performing and, if at all possible, to begin healing, one small part of the production might be less laden with sorrow. In our brief meeting, I sense that Austin was a perfect choice, warm and good-natured, utterly professional, pleased to have been able to help. Not to detract from the bravery of the students and their advisors, but Austin, especially due to his modesty, was an unsung hero this past weekend.

*    *   *

I mentioned that the cast all wore purple ribbons; at intermission I saw audience members wearing them as well. The small circle, it turns out, was Maren’s photo. With this small gesture, she was on stage with her castmates throughout the performance. Purple was her favorite color, as I had read in news reports; many members of the audience were wearing purple shirts, and even the crew wore purple show t-shirts, presumably not a coincidence. The memorial at street side, with balloons, lit candles and stuffed animals, was dominated by purple; trees along the town’s green carried purple ribbons as well.

As I said, the performance went without a hint of the tragedy that pervaded it, save for the ribbons. The only glitches were those that could happen to any show; one zipper got stuck mid-scene, to the frustration of the young performer, but he powered through like a pro. The only overt acknowledgment of Maren came at the very end.

curtain callThe cast came out for its curtain call as so many casts do: ensemble, supporting players, leading actors taking bows in succession. Then a company bow, a gesture to the band, to the back of the house where light and sound were being run and where Mr. Mele sat, an acknowledgment of the audience. They joined hands and bowed once again. Then they did something extraordinary that I shall never forget.

The company separated at the middle, each half moving a few steps toward the stage left and stage right wings, leaving an empty space center stage. As they moved their upstage arms towards the gap, which was filled by a purple circle of light, the final strains of The Beatles’ “In My Life” came over the sound system. And then the lights went out. They gave Maren the final bow.

*   *   *

Sadly, I have no doubt that other high school shows are touched by tragedy every year; the passing of family members, even the untimely passing of a cast member or fellow student. I hope that few experience the wrenching, inexplicable loss that happened at Jonathan Law.

seymour and audreyseymour and orinI write not to record my own tiny role, but to recognize everyone who came together to put on Little Shop of Horrors, which included students from Sacred Heart, West Haven, Westbrook, Trumbull and Amity High Schools, the last being my alma mater. No doubt there were members of the media there at one of the evening performances, since they had certainly followed the events of the past week; I saw none on Saturday afternoon. I wish I could say that the show had sold to the rafters, but the houses were not all full. Despite the press attention every aspect of Maren’s death had received, it did not generate ticket sales, and I think I understand why: in some ways, as an outsider, I felt like I was intruding on something special and private. I went because I had caused someone else to do great service to the show, but I went with mixed emotions. I suspect others felt similarly about buying a ticket. Sadness and loss do not drive people to the theatre, I fear.

So I finish with two thoughts in this fragmentary account.

The first, to audiences everywhere, with no chastisement to my southern Connecticut neighbors intended: when a show proceeds in the wake of tragedy, I hope you will flock to it. Performers who undertake a tribute through the stage want you to join with them, as they commingle the exuberance of a production with their private tears of loss. Live performance requires us to come together always, and there is never a greater time to come together than to celebrate a life even indirectly, as with Little Shop – even of someone we never knew – and to comfort, support, appreciate and applaud those who would celebrate it in whatever manner they choose, should they choose to invite us in.

More importantly, I say to everyone who had a hand in Little Shop of Horrors this weekend: you honored your friend and I was honored to bear witness to that. It makes me deeply sad that you had to perform such a rite so early in your young lives, but please know that I saw much more than one of my favorite musicals, and that with your loving tribute, you helped to insure that Maren is, to paraphrase the show, somewhere that’s purple.

 

The Stage: “Things That Make You Go Off-Broadway”

June 27th, 2013 § Comments Off on The Stage: “Things That Make You Go Off-Broadway” § permalink

During the 2012/13 Broadway season, a total of nine new musicals appeared on Broadway (hitting the average annual level of recent years). Of those nine, only four are still running. As I write, there are seven new musicals playing Off-Broadway, with an eighth due in a few weeks; there may well be others. What does it tell us when 12 months of Broadway yields just about as much new musical material as we find Off-Broadway in only a couple of months?

To be fair, many of the Off-Broadway musicals are limited runs in the seasons of subsidised companies, and two are commercial transfers from such companies from earlier this year. Only one will play in a theatre which is comparable in size to Broadway venues, and in that case it’s under the auspices of Shakespeare in the Park; most are in spaces where one week of performances equals the capacity of one Broadway performance. A transferred Off-Broadway hit can easily become a Broadway casualty given the commercial demands of larger theatres and higher costs.

Certainly, hit Off-Broadway musicals are hardly new; one need only look to The Fantasticks, You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown, Godspell and Little Shop of Horrors for precursors, and it’s unlikely the current new shows will ever attain the longevity of those icons. But in recent years, the standard model has tended much more towards the Off-Broadway to Broadway transfer for success, as evidenced by shows ranging from Rent to Avenue Q to The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Even shows that began in rudimentary stagings at the New York International Fringe Festival and the New York Musical Theatre Festival have fought their way to Broadway, including Urinetown and Next to Normal.

Surveying the variety of material, it would appear that the modest scale of Off-Broadway allows for a greater range of topics and styles than the Great White Way, from the sung through pop opera of Dave Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (based on a portion of War and Peace, and performed in a tent) to David Byrne and Fatboy Slim’s Imelda Marcos disco bio Here Lies Love. There’s one musical that is drawn from a film (Far From Heaven) and two with their roots in Shakespeare (Venice, after Othello, and Love’s Labour’s Lost). Several adopt variations on an environmental, break-the-proscenium approach (Here Lies Love, Murder Ballad and Great Comet). None model themselves on the formula of the classic American musical.

I suspect that no one is getting rich off of these productions, while the backers of Kinky Boots, Matilda and Motown on Broadway will surely do quite well over time. For these Off- Broadway musicals to become true earners for all involved, they will either have to manage sustained runs under a commercial model, on Broadway or Off, or spawn productions across the country and abroad. But even if that doesn’t come to pass, what they are doing is providing a superb showcase for predominantly new talent and unexpected subjects; they are bolstering the musical repertory at a pace at least equal to Broadway and building the reputations of artists.

This shouldn’t suggest that musical success Off-Broadway is a breeze, and it’s worth noting that many of these shows are only mounted with significant donor underwriting or “enhancement” from producers who hope the property will turn out to be Broadway-worthy. But with different scale and different expectations, Off-Broadway musicals may well be supplanting Broadway in advancing the form.

Hindsight doesn’t benefit anyone, but it is hard to resist wondering whether the short-lived Hands on a Hardbody might have fared better at director Neil Pepe’s Atlantic Theatre Company instead of in a Broadway theatre. Ironically, that was the birthplace of Spring Awakening, a musical that had struggled through a number of developmental productions over the years only to find praise, first Off- Broadway, then on.

There’s an old saying that one can’t make a living on Broadway, but can make a killing. It’s not easy to make a living off of Off-Broadway musicals either, but you can build a career.

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