“How I Feel About Stuff”
Hungrily, the actor eats from an unlabelled tin can as the smell of tuna fish permeates the performance space; the audience member beside me cringes, another smiles. It was not until this moment, standing watching Beirut, that I realized that I was a theorist. Throughout Beirut’s rehearsal process, I learned that I am a semiotic-phenomenological-reader-response-reception theorist. Although this semester has been one of immense personal growth, I felt as if I needed to return to the bias statement that I wrote in August to somewhat demystify my newfound theoretical stance.
I am a 21 year old, white, bi-curious heterosexual female. I grew up in North Caldwell of Essex County, New Jersey. My county is among the wealthiest in the state. I grew up with a mother, father, a younger brother and a dog. My mom has never worked a day in her life since I’ve known her and my dad is a C.P.A and owns a private firm with his older brother. My brother Michael is five years younger than I and at times I feel as if we are from two different planets.
My house sits on a cul-de-sac in the Fox Hollow neighborhood, not gated mind you, but the neighborhood still has a name. It is beige, with a two car garage and a backyard that was once home to a swing set. You can still see the imprints in the grass from where the wooden structure once stood. I got the swing set for my fifth birthday. That was the same year my brother was born. Before he was born my parents took me to Disney World.
Since I am bi-curious does this mean I should prescribe to Queer Theory? Fortier describes queers as “not just homosexuals, but bisexuals, transsexuals, cross dressers, hermaphrodites, and everybody else who doesn’t feel particularly straight for some reason” (122). I don’t disagree with the ideas presented by queer theorists, that sexuality and gender may very well be constructed. In fact, I would appreciate seeing a performance where gender roles were reversed or completely disregarded. However, the reason that this theory does not speak to me is because--- and I am a bit ashamed to admit this--- I am a patriarchal reader.
As a woman I believe that women should not be objectified or treated as ‘less than’ but when reading a play I read it with stereotypical gender roles in mind. My dad is the sole bread winner for my family while my mom stays at home. This is how I grew up and this is still how my family operates. Naturally, I will be inclined to read and interpret plays in this fashion. My frequent trips to Disney World probably have not helped my patriarchal view of theatre. Mr. Walt Disney himself is the primary reason why I truly do believe that “someday, my Jewish prince will come.”
I was raised a conservative Jew. I am Jewish. At one point in time I rejected my religion; though I may not agree that Noah built a raft or Moses parted the Red Sea I believe that these stories exist to teach a moral lesson. Story telling is a tradition within my religious and family life. My grandmother always told and re-told me her stories and at services the Rabbi would always deliver a sermon in the form of a story. While, my parents always “forced” my religion upon me but not in a necessarily religious way, it was more about pride. We are Jewish, we are a minority.
Ever since I came to Ithaca I have learned why I must take pride in and defend my religion, it is my link to my past and a way to preserve my future. This doesn’t change the fact that I suffered through endless hours of Hebrew School, being award stale pretzels for answering a question correctly, singing ridiculous parodies of Jewish songs to the tune of “Under the Sea.” My Bat Mitzvah was the product of my Hebrew School training and was most certainly a theatrical event. I stood up, all alone on a “stage” and performed a series of prayers for 100 people to listen to and participate in. They stood when I stood, they sat when I sat, they took three steps forward and three steps back just like me. My belief system upholds many theatrical elements. Naturally, theatre has become my second religion.
To Artaud theatre is ritual. Artaud’s beliefs are somewhat rooted in phenomenology but he is especially invested in “the truth of the lived experience and the place of living theatre in human spirituality and ritual” (Fortier 54). Artaud longs for a sacred theatre one that is directly connected with life and a person’s communication with the world around them. Historically, theatre was associated with religion. At the yearly festival of Dionysus, the Greeks would drink and perform tragedies to please and appease the Gods. Theatre must establish a connectedness between actors, between actor and audience and between the self and the spirit.
High school was a far cry from a spiritual experience. If you weren’t wearing the latest designer fashions it was obvious. The girls were cliquey and the boys were assholes. I had a possessive boyfriend for two years and it took me about that long to realize my self worth which I am still learning to acknowledge.
One of the theories I most closely associate myself with is Semiotics. I firmly uphold that everything displayed onstage is a choice. Therefore, everything on stage has meaning. Semiotics “is the study of signs--- those objects by which humans communicate meaning: words, images, behaviour…in which a meaning or idea is relayed by a corresponding manifestation we can perceive” (Fortier 19). Perception is a funny concept in that based on life experiences people will not and do not perceive certain signs in identical ways. That does not stop Fortier from asking: “Do light, sound and movement always have meaning?” (20). Yes, they do.
Whether a high school girl is over compensating for her insecurities with brand names or a director is attempting to convey a certain message by having a character drink a certain brand of beer, there is always meaning. Chanel means you are classy, Kate Spade means you just want to fit in, Bebe is a bit trashy so everyone knows what kind of girl you are. Unlabeled tuna cans take the focus away from brand names and turn the audience’s focus to the action. The audience will also perceive a character based on what he or she is wearing. For example, a dirtied burlap sack versus silk golden-yellow ball gown.
In 1995 I saw my first Broadway show, Beauty and the Beast; it was magical. I sat in the orchestra with my mom and my aunt and at intermission bought the souvenir T-shirt. Since then, I have seen countless Broadway shows. I am privileged and I know this. I have been afforded the opportunity to take low-paying theatre internships every summer because my parents will and do support me. I know that I will have an easy time finding a job in theatre because of who I know.
Because I grew up in a financially secure home, I was able take multiple dance classes each year and attend theatre arts summer camps. Also, I was fortunate enough to participate in dance team, marching band and Masquers (my High School’s drama club). Although my parents didn’t have much first hand experience in the performing arts they fostered my passions and allowed me to pursue my dreams. I know that part of the reason is because my father was not allowed to pursue what he wanted to pursue (auto-mechanics and auto-engineering) when he was young. I am lucky to have been raised in a household such as this. My parents’ friends who are of similar socio-economic backgrounds sit on boards of major regional theatres up and down the east coast; again, I am fortunate to have these connections. This is not to say that I have not worked and won’t continue to work hard to achieve my goals, but as they say, “it’s not what you know, but who you know.” To apply materialist theory to a piece of theatre would not be my “thing;” however, I do realize how materialism has contributed to my current place in the theatre world.
My mother grew up dirt poor. She worked her ass off through her twenties to maintain her dead father’s deli. She did not attend college until I was nine years old. My dad’s dad, however, was a radiologist but my dad worked for every dollar he spent. Not because he had to, but he wanted to. He always had a job and earned everything owned. But he knew pain too; his oldest brother passed away at a young age and within the same year was followed by his father. My dad has diabetes; he had a heart attack and triple by-pass open heart surgery. He values his life, not his money. I am thankful he taught me to do the same. I have inherited my parents’ work ethic and my dad’s sense of adventure. Because I was raised with such strong morals and by two completely level-headed parents I view myself as a walking contradiction.
In high school I did theatre because it had nothing to do with the general population of West Essex High School. In this eclectic community of misfits we were able to create and this is where the change in me occurred. I believe I could have taken any one of two roads: first, the same route as my fellow West Essex students into the world of sororities and normal careers or second, the path that has led me here…to writing about “how I feel about stuff.” Theatre allows me to disappear into a fantasy world that does not involve Kate Spade, Tiffany or Mavi. This was real, theatre was raw and theatre was what life should be.
Phenomenology is concerned with truth (Fortier 43). A constant theme that runs as a through line, connecting one moment of my life to the next, is my constant search for truth. Even as a young girl, I was aware that there was something more to life than my safe, suburban, socialite school. Phenomenology is the theory that brings me closer to truth. This theory is not concerned with the world as it exists in itself but with how the world appears to the humans who encounter it (Fortier 38). I always knew that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the primped and overly processed people from my home town, that world as it appeared to me is not one that I wanted to be a part of.
Phenomenological theatre appeals to the spectator’s senses as something to be seen and heard, and, less often, as something to be touched, tasted and smelled. The sensory effects of theatre are central to phenomenological concerns (Fortier 38-9). When directing Beirut, I needed the audience to smell the tuna fish, feel stifled yet solitary in the space and have visceral reactions to the character’s actions. Phenomenology (like semiotics) is about perception. Last year, when I directed The Rock and the Bird, I remember saying “I don’t care if people like it or dislike it, as long as they walk away with an opinion or have something to react to afterwards…that is my largest concern.”
Theatre should be primal. It should dig beneath the Essex County façade and expose the truth. The truth is that people’s lives are not perfect and they use money to cover up all of their problems. Theatre should be a release. I am lucky because I’ve had an opportunity to see many shows on-Broadway, off-Broadway and in different countries. However, I am aware that the only reason this was possible is because my family could afford it. Instead, I propose that theatre should be universal.
When I go and see a show with my family it’s basically as if my entire town was transplanted into the theatre, this I disagree with. Theatre should push limits and break expectations. No one from my town becomes a theatre professional, they all become financial advisors or lawyers or doctors...predictable. I have broken the mold and theatre should do the same.
Reader-response and reception theory are concerned with how people other than the author or creator contribute to the import of a work of art (Fortier 132). Since reader-response is basically a combination of many theories I believe it encapsulates my entire theoretical perspective. The reason I chose to become a theatre professional was to affect people and to use theatre to unearth the truth that is The Human Experience. As Pierce asserts, reader-response theory is “the act of interpretation and unlimited semiosis among their interpreters” (Fortier 133). Audiences have power. They have the power to see on stage what they are afraid to see in themselves. Signs can be interpreted under the guise of fictional characters providing a moment of epiphany for a spectator.
Theatre is immediate. In the case of phenomenology, the work of art reveals its truth to us (the audience) at the time of the act of listening and perceiving. Each spectator takes in particular facets of the performance moment by moment and has a particular sense of how that performance unfolds in time. Therefore, each audience member will take something unique away from the performance and that is the point.
Reception theory discusses the rehearsal process, the part of the performance that an audience doesn’t really get to see. “If rehearsals are performances, performances must retain the quality of rehearsals: ‘Creation and exploration need not and, in fact, must not stop on the last day of rehearsal; theatre is always a self-destructive act and is always written on the wind’” (Fortier 149). One moment of honesty in rehearsal is worth more than a well received untruthful run. Again, I pursue truth and honesty. It must be real, my craving for things that are 100% pure has definitely been born from the fact that for the majority of my life I have been surrounded by things that were 100% fake or manufactured; the people, their couture facades, dyed hair and manicured nails, hiding behind brand names and country clubs always taking the ‘safe route.’
I thrive on the fact that theatre is spontaneous and self-destructive, it is exciting and it is alive! Theatre should jolt the suburban yuppies who have become comfortable and complacent. Theatre goers should be challenged, made self-aware, made aware of those around them, allow themselves to be comfortably (or uncomfortably) exposed in the dark of a theatre. Audiences should be forced to think and formulate opinions.
The theatrical experience should be visceral and strive to create change within an individual and to allow that individual to catch a glimpse of truth, to see a piece of his or herself portrayed on stage.
