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The first blog post I ever wrote was inspired by a project I worked on with the HOUSE Theatre, just over two years ago. One could say I “drank the punch” that summer; I bought into this fully and, though the writing is a LITTLE pretentious, still think I agree with what is written here.
“Working with the folks from the House on Girls vs Boys has rocked my world and led me to question so much of what I assume to be true in the theatre. One of the biggest questions this process has raised for me centers around the idea of the 4th wall; having hidden myself and my work behind the 4th wall for the entirety of my theatrical exploration, I have found that building the courage to break it has required a total shift in my understanding of my social role as an artist.
Where better to start the exploration than at the source of the question?
The House’s Mission is “To unite Chicago in the spirit of Community through amazing feats of Storytelling.” With the goal of community at the center of the mission, and some brilliant minds behind the development of the company, what could be better than to take part in reaching this goal?
Here is some insight into how I have come to find myself (through somewhat mathematical “reasoning” and reasonless “feeling”) backing this team in their quest to drop bombs, burn faces, and tear down (4th) walls.
The human struggle for community is certainly universal and is at the source of the gambit of live entertainment. After-all, sports and theatre fill similar human needs: the need for excitement, the need to live vicariously, the need to find a place in the world. Why, then do we in the theatre find usefulness in ignoring the audience and limiting their effect on the energy and content of a performance, when athletes thrive off the give-and-take of energy that the audience provides?
Perhaps what we have been taught by past generations is holding us back. Perhaps in our current performance formula lies one fatal flaw of Theatre, an art and community event that can sadly struggle to pull in 100 fans on a Saturday night, when sports stadiums across the country pack in hundreds of thousands of people each day.
We are getting to a point where “the audience just doesn’t get it” is no longer an expectable excuse for low tickets sales. Lets not hide ourselves in our tradition; lets learn from the football players, who, with a pump of a fist can grab the attention and affection of thousands, and with a smile to the stands can give a father and son a memory worth more than the price of a ticket.
In the theatre we like to assume that the audience, in SEEING the performers, will RELATE to the performers. We assume that by SHOWING we are SHARING. We hope that the audience will leave somehow feeling a relationship to the characters, despite our lack of any attempt as characters to reciprocate that relationship. We expect the audience to be changed by the experience without letting our guard down enough to be changed by the audience. We hide ourselves behind a 4th wall, cutting ourselves off from the possibility of a symbiotic relationship between ourselves and the audience.
Then there is the House. With encouragement in every step of the process to connect with the audience, there is no excuse to leave a performance without lasting memories of minutely changing lives and having your lives changed.
At this point theory takes a backseat to practice; I could tell you how I think this all works. But rather… Story!
During the pre-show festivities of one of our early performances, I came across the courage to introduce myself to some of the older members of an audience riddled with teenagers, family members, and friends. Though quickly running down the time before curtain I managed to squeeze in an introduction and a brief exchange of words about the importance and hopeful universality of the themes of the show.
Then… Performance.
During the last song of the show, while singing about the necessity of taking chances in love and friendship, I met eyes with one of the women with which I had shared that brief conversation.
She smiled as if to say, “I understand; I’ve been there.”
THAT IS WHAT I FRIKIN’ LIVE FOR.
To be honest, the names of my new friends quickly faded from my mind, as did their friendly faces. That smile, that understanding, that connection though…
THAT is what Theatre needs to be. THAT is what makes it all worth-while.
Or something.”
SMQ





