Why do we continure to do it?
A few months ago, I sent a simple question out to many friends in the theatre business: Why do we continue to do it?
I have no idea why I do it. I got into theatre in high school because the typing class was full, it was the only option left. For something I fell into, I find it very difficult to get out. When the black dog is after me, I think I'm stuck doing it because I'm too old to learn anything else, that's it's the only skill I have that anyone will pay for. But when things are on a more even keel, I think about the great shows I've been a part of and I realize I am stubbornly optimistic; I keep believing things will continue to get better.
What surprised me most about the response to my quesiton was the lack of it. Not so much the people who didn't reply, but those who just didn't want to think about it. For some folks, it's a stone they don't want to look under. One response that summed up this crowd said:
Boy that's not an easy task but i will endeavor to throw some words together at some point when I'm totally drunk or stoned or otherwise stupid-- it's certainly nothing you want to tackle while you're sane.
Fair enough. But others did take the plunge, and I received responses short and long (the longest two I've reprinted in full in separate postings).
I often hear people talk about the terrible shows they've been in being worth it for that great show that somes along every once in a while. Chris Hunt summed up this point of view:
So, why do I keep doing this theatre thing? Not for the money or the prestige, that’s for sure. I guess what keeps me going are the really special shows where things align. Sometimes, though it might be a silly script/show, but the combination of people I work with makes it an amazing work environment. Sometimes, it’s what I learn from the director (or others) in the rehearsal/performance process. Sometimes it’s the message/power/impact of the show itself that feeds me, or the challenge of the character or style. And once in a very rare while, it’s all of the above. And those special shows never last long enough (and the crappy ones seem to last a tad TOO long), but it makes me keep going, hoping that the next one will have some of that stuff in it…
David LeReaney is fed by feedback he gets from audience members away from the theatre. He sent in three incidents that touched him. Click here to see his stories.
Nicola Cavendish wrote in with not so much why, but how:
If it weren't for dips into the woods on Vancouver Island where we have a humble old bungalow on the Qualicum River, surrounded by the woods where I replenish often empty Spirit barrels and feed my Soul deeply by the surrounding nature, the peace, the quiet, the calm and a lot of birdsong, I don't think I could run headlong back into the demanding price that being a Theatre Artist insists upon me. Nature in it's wild form has always been my fodder.
Is that the healthy flipside to booze and drugs?
Geoff Ewert says we do it because we have to:
So why do we do it? I suppose everyone you ask will have a different answer for that question – but I propose that we create art, because as a species we have a fundamental need for artistic expression.
Click here for the full text of Geoff's argument.
I'll leave the last words to Vanessa Porteous:
1. Blake Brooker is rumoured to say that it's a fetish plus an organizing principle. I have fetishes (footlights, seeing the mechanics, puppets, sadness, singing, dancing, and I won't tell you any of the other ones) and I like to be organized. Perfect.
2. I love going backstage. I mean, I literally love going through the door that separates the audience from the actors. It makes me feel like I'm seven years old again, visiting my parent's friend after she danced the Sugarplum Fairy. Ha ha! Magic door! I also like wandering around the theatre space during tech, eating gummy bears and wrapped in a sweater, and thinking about how in a few days strangers will be sitting there watching my friends pretend together.
3. Lighting levels. Stage management.
4. Revenge.
5. I love how useless it is. I love that it's an activity that human beings choose to engage in that has no overt function. I love that it's only for joy. Sappy but true: it gives me weird hope.
6. I like making stuff.
7. Despite all the yah-yah-yah, I'm still kind of amazed they pay me for it. Wish they paid me more. Really wish they paid me more.
8. I like actors.
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