You're Too Young To...

WARNING: MUCH THEATRE GEEKERY AHEAD!

I was at a discussion earlier this week with other amateur theatre critics (both professional theatre folks and supporters of the arts), and a panel of choreographers and music directors. The topic was what choreographers and music directors do, exactly, and how we can tell if they've done a good job.

All was well and good for a while. I don't see (or work on) all that many musicals, but I love the form, and it's always interesting to learn about other people's jobs, especially when it's something I could never do to save my life. Like, I absolutely understand what a music director does, but I didn't have a clue as to how, as a member of an audience, to tell if their vision was coming across.

THEN. The gentleman in front of me raised his hand to ask a question. He asked how the choreographers feel if their audience doesn't intimately know the historical period they've drawn from for their choreography. I get the question; it came after a statement from one of the choreographers about what happens when dance styles don't match the period of the play. (For example, imposing modern dance on a production of Singin' in the Rain.) But then, he went on to say, "I'll be 70 years old on my next birthday. My first Broadway play was...well, forever ago...I understand the history of the form. But what about these young audience members who don't?"

And I raised my hand to respond. (More after the jump...)



I'm sorry, but just because I haven't experienced the golden age of musical theatre firsthand, that doesn't mean I don't understand history or genre. I wasn't around in the sixties; does that mean I don't understand the counterculture movements and musical styles that came out of them? I pointed out that I grew up listening to cast recordings and watching as many videos as I could (I'm a born theatre geek!), and as a lifelong student of theatre history, I'd better understand these things, or I'm not doing my job. I also mentioned that the whole point is to have the songs and dances fit in seamlessly with the dialogue and story, and if they don't feel organic, that's where the choreographer hasn't done his/her job appropriately. (Which, by the way, got appreciative nods from the choreographers on the panel.)

The gentleman felt the need to raise his hand again and smugly say, "But a cast album doesn't have choreography on it, does it?"

Fine, I was done with that conversation. I knew I was right.

A few minutes later, the conversation rolled around again to Twyla Tharp's production of Singin' in the Rain, and a gentleman behind me asked about a difference in generations. He wants the raincoat, the streetlight, the splashing from the original; his twenty-year-old daughter could "give a shit" if those elements appeared. He asked if the choreographers would liken it to something like Shakespeare where directors change time period often, but there are always some audience members who want to see what they're expecting with the text, costume, and time period.

I joined in the conversation again, again pointing out that it doesn't necessarily have to be a generational thing. Again, I'm thirty, and I want the raincoat, the streetlight, the puddle-splashing, too. (Gene Kelly will always be on my List.) And, as with Shakespeare, all of the elements just have to work together. There has to be a seamlessness, an organic sense that everything works together and comes from a natural place. Concepts never work if that's all a play hinges on. If someone wants to do modern dance in Singing' in the Rain, just because they want to, it won't work. If someone puts Romeo and Juliet in (for example) a punk setting just because, without anything to back it up, that won't work either. I might have gone a bit far when I said "That's just...EGO," but I stand behind it.

I loved that we could have an informed conversation about the topic, and really respect when debates like this happen. I mean, that's what the arts are all about, right? But I couldn't help feeling a little discriminated against because of my age; that the first gentleman, especially, was suggesting that only older people could appreciate theatre. But I feel incredibly confident that I made logical points and contributed to the conversation. Go "youngsters!"