Finally, We Can Walk Tall And Funky

by:

Joe Patti

I generally don’t post on Fridays but sometimes there emerges such a compelling piece of news, you can’t ignore or delay it’s reporting.

Artful Manager Andrew Taylor has once again exhibited great foresight and leadership of Arts Administrators the world over by composing…

It is available for download so you can put it on your iPod and listen to it before going into a meeting and exude the cool, funky confidence that comes with having a theme song.

They Took My Beautiful Coke Machine!

by:

Joe Patti

Yes, we lost a good friend today as the guys from Coca Cola removed the vending machine from my building. This summer we had a fire inspection and were told that we couldn’t have the power cable for the machine running under the door into the scene shop. The door wasn’t pinching the cable in any manner and the inspector admitted that it wasn’t necessarily a fire hazard. But apparently safe practice requires we not have the power cord run there even though it isn’t a trip hazard either.

The powers that be decided they would rather get rid of the machine than drill a hole in the wall so it was adios to the Real Thing. Whether this will constitute a safety hazard as people working late at night have to run out to other buildings to get their caffeine fix remains to be seen.

Though I don’t the fire inspectors were really fully aware of it, the history of horrific death tolls in theatres provide ample reason to closely monitor safety operations. One of the most famous theatre fires was Chicago’s Iroquois Theater fire in 1903. This was a disaster of Titanic proportions as the theater billed as “absolutely fireproof” burned down within five weeks of opening due to a series of poor judgments and scrimping and not installing all the fire safety measures they were touting. The fire itself killed 572 people and the death toll from related injuries eventually brought it to 602.

In 1811, 72 people perished in the Richmond Theatre Fire. In 1876 nearly 300 died in the Brooklyn Theatre Fire

All three of these fires occurred in December which may be a sign to stay away from theatres during that month. All of them were caused by light sources. The Iroquois fire by sparks from an electric light that ignited drapes, Richmond by a candelabra that flew out unevenly an lit the drapes and Brooklyn by a kerosene lamp that…lit up the drapes. These are only a few of the many fiery theatre incidents from history.

The theatre going experience is much safer now that technology has moved away from flame based lighting technology and have adopted safer methods and standards for electrical lighting. In the past, as with today, theaters and fire marshals come into conflict over the circumstances surrounding performances.

Of course, many a proactive theatre stays ahead of the fire marshal’s objections by instituting and disseminating safety procedures. Some theatres even have a process for reviewing stage sets at the design stage.

The loss of my soda machine notwithstanding, the fire marshals were pretty fair in their evaluation of our facility. The changes they required were appropriate to the amount of traffic an area got and the training and familiarity with the facility possessed by the main users of those areas. The interaction was certainly not as antagonistic as some of the experiences I have had and stories I have heard.

Theory Crashes Into Practice

by:

Joe Patti

Over on Fractured Atlas, Kamal Sinclair posted some of the responses they have been getting while researching the professional development needs for artists. The focus of the comments in this particular entry revolve around the frustration BFA and MFA students feel when they realize their formal education taught them how to be creative but not necessarily how to exist as a practicing artist and navigate their respective industries.

The entry contains about 10-15 quotes from graduates reflecting on how well or poorly their training program prepared them for careers in their fields. Hoping to provide incentive to read the entire entry, I will resist quoting some of the ones that resonate strongest with me here.

I will note that according to Sinclair, in the course of their research Fractured Atlas found that the problem may be that the training programs are slow to recognize the pressing need. “…sources imply that universities and colleges have a long history of resistance around educating artists in “the business.” The philosophy is that art should be taught for art’s sake.”

Sinclair lists some of the suggestions the respondents had about how to improve the situation. Again, you should read the entry to learn more. Fractured Atlas’ blogs contain a lot of great material on a daily basis and if I lose readership to them by pointing you there, I will still feel victory has been achieved.

I can’t help but cite one of the suggestions that leaped out and smashed me over the head with a frying pan– “Eliminate the myth of “getting discovered.” I tell you, that is just replete with all sorts of complexities. As much as training programs may perpetuate this, it is inherent in society at large. It manifests in shows like American Idol which allows people to believe they have a reasonable chance at becoming famous–the odds of which are only slightly better than winning the Powerball lottery.

Hopefully implicit in that comment was the idea that success can be defined as more than just a Broadway role, recording contract or big gallery show. Those that decide they are just biding their time in their current job until they are discovered are closing off other potential avenues for success. The current president of Valparaiso University went to grad school for acting and directing, for example. Seventeen years and three colleges ago when he was teaching me acting, I would never have figured he would end up as a university president. While a number of doors doubtless opened for him, I am sure he worked hard to position himself near those doorways.

Turning Our Professions Off

by:

Joe Patti

I don’t usually talk about specific actors on the blog but I heard some amazing things in an interview with Terrance Howard on NPR this weekend. I heard the 12 minute version that aired but went and listened to the 40 minute uncut version via the NPR website. (The broadcast version is there as well.) I haven’t been following Howard’s career with any devotion but I may just do so now to see what he is thinking. He seems to have a real sense of his place in the world acknowledging the bonds that run back to his actor/musician great-grandmother, Minnie Gentry, to his mother through him and down to his son. Despite his success, he does a lot of carpentry work professionally and pro bono. His greatest hope seems to be that his son will become the scientist that he wanted to be before acting deflected him from that path.

I am not quite sure if his explanations of scientific matters are completely accurate but I am impressed by his intellectual curiosity and rigorous pursuit of knowledge much the same as I was in Danica McKellar.

What grabbed my attention most was his observations on one consequence of acting being that you insulate yourself from life and begin to observe. In the interview he reflects on this in relation to his mother’s death just two weeks ago.

Starting at about 24:00 full version of the interview-

“As an actor, the saddest thing. You stop experiencing moments. You start watching them as if you are storing them for future reference. … It’s like when I was sitting there with my mother for the last two weeks. There were moments when I couldn’t turn that actor off where I was watching her. You know. And wondering what was going through her mind…And trying to stop myself…”
[…]
The actor sometimes takes over in places that you don’t want it there. Maybe I was just afraid to face the emotion that was happening so then I began to watch.”

This state is difficult for people to deal with, he says, and as a result, “And I think that’s what happens to a lot of actors, and therefore they get hooked on drugs because they’re desperate to get away from not feeling. They want to be excited or something.”

I can empathize because I have had similar experiences. I have difficulty enjoying performances because I analyze how effects are being accomplished or I wonder what is happening backstage. The technical director at work often thinks about how he could improve the lighting for shows or events like weddings. But even outside of performances in real life, I some times realize I am watching myself experience an event. I can’t recall doing so during a something as highly emotional as watching someone die. Certainly, I haven’t filed it away for future use the way Howard suggests he does.

I don’t know whether to pity him for not being able to feel or envy him for being able to insulate himself from negative events. I suppose if he is equally unable to fully experience joyful events, then it is a net detriment.

But I wonder if every vocation doesn’t hold a similar threat. Had he become a famous scientist as he planned isn’t there a chance that he would instead be talking about how science removes the wonder from his life. That he can’t enjoy the rainbows, blowing bubbles and sunsets without analyzing the forces that went into creating them. Perhaps he might talk about how science has isolated him from those he loves because he can’t experience the world with the same joy and wonder they do. As interested as he is in science, he still looks to explain events and occurrences in terms of grandness and wonder. He talks about a soap bubble existing because the universe is finite. Commenters to the NPR piece talk about surface tension.

Even as he looks upon the road not traveled with some bittersweetness, perhaps the lesson he and all of us should take away is that engaging in other interests in the manner of professional-amateurs, we can avoid those aspects which might remove the joy from the pursuit. By pursuing acting as a career, Terrence Howard may have taken on an obligation to examine and distill life in order to advance. By pursuing science out of love, he is not necessarily responsible for defining his relationship with it in a specific way.