Just finished Todd London and Ben Pesner's eye-opening study of the landscape for new American plays. Outrageous Fortune is a tough read, not because it's not well-written and meticulously researched but because the content is so damned hard to swallow. It's a bitter pill. But the truth hurts. So much interesting commentary has already erupted over this important book, I won't bore you by adding my own two cents. (If you haven't caught any of the flurry of on-topic pontificating in the blogosphere, simply Google the title and much of it will appear.)
I want to focus on one of the threads that emerged for me in reading the book and that is: Fear. In quote after quote from Artistic Directors all across the U.S., the subtext was the same. I read it as follows:
Our company has invested heavily in real estate and now we've got a mortgage to pay and I'm afraid to program shows that won't sell themselves.
Now, let me be perfectly clear. There are several different interpretations of the word "sell" in this context. To some, it means: fill subscription rolls. To others, it means: please our corporate funders. To some, it simply means: attract the attention of the local press. But in all cases, the fear is real and it's driving a lot of the decision-making in board rooms and corner offices. (or tiny cramped offices, as the case may be)
What's important for us to think about is that this was not always the case. Once upon a time, theatres were led by visionaries who not only led their staff they led their boards of directors and, most importantly, they led the communities in which they thrived. What did they lead them to? New ways of seeing, new ways of imagining what theatre could be.
I recall, many years ago I had a conversation I with a fellow artistic director of a small theatre company. We were both sharing ideas for our next seasons, both of us running small companies with an annual budget of less than half a million dollars. My colleague excitedly announced his brilliant plan for next season. He was going to create a 4-color glossy mailer which would include a dozen titles and synopses of the plays under consideration. These would be mailed to his subscribers along with a ballot and they would all vote and the 3 most popular blurbs would comprise his next season.
Wow, I remember thinking to myself at the time. This guy is really nuts. How could anybody possibly be so insane as to plan a season this way? Based on subscriber whims! And only based on blurbs!
How naive I was! For less than 15 years later, that seems to be precisely where we find ourselves and unless and until it changes, with fear as the guiding force behind our collective artistic vision, we've got a helluva lot more to fear.
