Day 25: Theater Artist as Theater Audience

So I'm in Chicago for a few days and tonight I went and saw a play put on by a company called Collaboraction. It was called Dark Play, or Stories For Boys, by Carlos Murillo, and it was very good. Throughout the play, the production used a very effective bit of sound design in order to represent conversations happening online in which the dialogue was given a little amplification and echo. And I found myself wondering how they did that. I'm sure a lot of people shared my curiosity and, to be honest, the answer probably isn't particularly elaborate. I'm not an especially technical dude and it doesn't take much in that department to totally mystify me. But the point is that while I imagine most people quickly moved past that moment of curiosity and returned to the story at hand, it distracted me for awhile. And this is nothing against the production. As I said, it was very good. Quite the contrary, the distraction was completely a result of who I am, and more specifically, what I do.

As one of the few staff members at needtheater, a small company not unlike Collaboraction, I must play a part in every aspect of the planning and implementation of one of our shows. This means that when we do a show, my mind is necessarily, constantly filled with all manner of questions and concerns surrounding the intricate choreography that comes with putting on a play. This runs the gamut from the number of backstage crew members we will need to the durability of a table that an actor plans to jump on to the amount of noise that a set piece will make as we slide it into position during the blackout. A huge part of the fun of making theater is orchestrating all this action and movement and work so that when put together and presented in front of an audience, it flows in a way that seems both cohesive and magical. But it's hard to turn that kind of thinking off.

This turns out to be a real bummer when I go to see a show that I'm not involved in. In these instances, I want to just give myself over to the experience. I want to just surrender to that magic that we all aspire to and let it touch me in whatever way it can. Because it's only when you surrender yourself that way, surrender your control of your own thinking and let the play take you where it may, that you can feel that magic. Instead I'm thinking about how they pulled off that quick-change and whether they're using iced tea or apple juice to stand in for the whiskey. It makes me think that working in theater ultimately makes you the worst kind of audience member.