Who’s to Blame for Making Hip Hop Dance Good Again?

Last night I had the honor of witnessing The Hip Hop Dance Conservatory Repertory Showcase 2011, entitled The Blame Game, held at Dance New Amsterdam Theatre.  I arrived expecting one thing and to my surprise, was greeted – no, thrusted – into another.  Considering this was an HDC performance, I should have known this would happen.  My familiarity with the group began back in November when I attended their first open class where I casually strolled in one night, expecting a traditional dance class of warm up and choreography, but was happily taken aback when I found myself engrossed in a three hour mental and personal challenge, where physical benefits were merely a by-product of the situation.  Since then, I have been a frequenter of these open classes and number one fan of the admirable and noble process in which this group works.

The showcase embodied what this company stands for.  What moved me to begin to take notes and write a review was my reaction to the “theatrical” presentation of the piece.  I would later learn, however, that this wasn’t theatre or theatrical; according to artistic director and codifier of the Blade Dance Technique, Safi A. Thomas, this was merely what dance is supposed to be, and this group aimed to restore hip hop dance to its actual definition.

The show begins as soon as the audience reaches the second floor of the Dance New Amsterdam Theatre.  The front of house was not a theatre lobby, but the entrance to HDCNY State Psychiatric Mental Institution, where the story would take place.  Performance-goers interacted with members of the company, dressed in doctor and orderly attire, in order to gain admittance.  Instead of a ticket, we filled out “visitor passes” with our names and the name of the patient we were there to see.  We were forced to follow their procedure as one doctor in particular made me feel uncomfortable and anxious rather than welcomed, and a nurse with latex gloves pawed through my bag in the off chance I was hoarding something dangerous to the patients with the intent of smuggling.  At one point, we were interrupted by a screaming patient (played by Camilla Cusini) trying to escape.  A ruckus broke out as orderlies seized her, and in all the commotion we were inadvertently mooned, an image that would foreshadow the nitty gritty of what was to come.

We were seated.  A video of the dancers in black and white silently looped on a projector, suggesting the “psychologically detrimental recidivistic cycle” that Safi would later talk about, post show.  Patients, who all sported impeccably realistic make up that emanated exhaustion, pain, and overdose milled about us.  Each dancer had some sort of disorder, but there was a comedic air that accompanied many of them.  I had questions about this, especially in the case of Ray Davis’ hallucinating character whom we all laughed at and were entertained by as he bore the grunt of his ailment.  His portrayal was funny, and initially, I was disappointed because this was a serious condition but it was causing laugher.  However, my unrest reminded me that we, at times, laugh at similar characters who actually suffer from these ailments in real life.  Therefore, my initial reaction that he had missed the mark was proven to be incorrect.   One dancer that welcomed no occasion for laughter was Jose Gomez.  As he asked audience members for donations, his requests were particularly disturbing.  His meek voice, hunched posture, and unfocused eyes were heartbreaking and of the array of psychological illnesses we would encounter throughout the night, his came from the deepest truth and was the most convincing.

It took a long time for the pre show portion to end and the main event to begin.  I desired more specificity and differentiation among the patients, and it was only being fulfilled by Mr. Gomez (described above) as well as Raphaela Riemer who had a clear take on her character and avoided the general wash that I was beginning to see among the others.  Raphaela gave her obtuse, aggressive, destructive character a point of view and acted accordingly rather than simply embodying clichés.  Fortunately, however, as the show unfolded, I began to see these specificities among the dancers and their individuality become clearer.  It just took a while for the show to begin, and I became an antsy audience member, wondering if there were technical difficulties.  Despite my anxiousness for them to ‘get on with it already,’ I must say it struck me to see the company members’ absolute commitment to the characters and scenario.  The front of house and pre show experiences set the bar for what the night would live up to.

As the program details, the show encompasses “the final breakdown of a man (“Moe,” played by Maurice Dean) in an estranged relationship with the woman (“Kristiana” played by Christina Cruz) he loves.  A gripping tale of anger, loss and betrayal unfold before our eyes as his girlfriend has him committed to an institution.”  The scene takes place in the common area of the institution, and the events are those that occur within the male protagonist’s (Moe’s) head.  After some laughs during pre show, within the very first measure of the first song, a serious tone was immediately implemented, and sympathy was wrung from my heart.

Safi’s choreography is purposeful and conducive to the story.  There was detail in the movements such as one moment in the third song where a group of dancers representing the mindset of Moe render a punching motion that grows weak and turns into an amicable hit to the chest rather than following through as an act of violence.  At another point, a group of dancers repeated a running movement behind Moe, as we discovered he was a writer, engrossed and addicted to his life as an artist.  It allowed us to see the fire that drove him to exhaustively produce work.  Another beautiful moment was when Ms. Cruz as Kristiana struggled to approach her ex love.  We clearly saw her battle as her movements required excessive effort to get close to him and equal effort to keep herself away from him.  It was as though she was moving through two feet of mud, taking one step forward, two steps backward.  When she finally got close enough to him to place her hand on his shoulder, she had to cast her glance away and couldn’t look at him.  The sequence of movements was brutal and her struggle relatable.

The most beautiful moment had dancer, Darlene Arrington, at the forefront in “Glinda’s solo.”  Glinda was portrayed as an antagonist; her ailment was ugly and difficult to look at.  Her arms often took on movements that hinted toward greed, and her character was this production’s counterpart of the hunchback in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.  She was unlikeable… until her solo.  Here, we saw her truth and her pure intentions.  Moe and Kristiana held a tableau of embrace on the floor and Glinda danced to Moe and only Moe, despite Kristiana’s presence.  Her dismissal of Kristiana wasn’t rude or purposeful; Glinda simply just didn’t notice her there.  Or she did, but it was of no importance.  That is how whole hearted her love for Moe was.  She only wanted him, and her movements suggested that she kept trying to give herself to him, over and over, with moments of break downs intermittently.  The notes I scribbled down during this touching solo were “so simple,” “pure,” “love,” “vulnerability,” and “no ego.”  To give such an ugly character such a beautiful soul was a surprise; it showed that even those that society deem as “crazy” are still capable of the most noble human emotions.  Darlene’s eye opening performance was a gift and an honor to watch.  Bravo, Darlene, and thank you.

The story ended rather abruptly and didn’t tie its loose ends.  It left me a little confused as to what ultimately ended up happening; in fact, I’m not so sure a conclusion came about.  The structure of the story was flawed.  Mr. Safi Thomas would later express that dance is “expression of emotion during movement,” which is important, but I urge the company not to neglect the importance of story and its structure.  Emotion will come as a by-product.  The company clearly does not lack the talent nor the guts to embody and explore emotion, but I would like an even stronger sense of story line.

I also had questions for Moe.  His intention and what actually manifested on stage, didn’t quite match up.  In the post show Q&A, he said his character harvested a hate for Kristiana; he blamed her for his plight.  This blame would eventually flare up to the point where he “wanted to kill her.”  However, in reality his performance projected an intense love for her.  After the show, the audience was told that an exploration of his life as an artist vs. his relationship with Kristiana was meant to have taken place, with his life as an artist trumping their love.  However, this is not what I witnessed.  What I witnessed was a man with an intense love for this woman, and this love, paired with her betrayal of him, was what drove him to madness.  The intention of the piece did not match up with the piece itself.  I would encourage the group to take another look at this and create a more distinct clarity as I believe they inadvertently told one story, but intended to tell another.  Perhaps they should even welcome the love story at which they unintentionally arrived, for isn’t it more powerful for love to drive one crazy rather than hate?  This is not intended however, to belittle Maurice Dean’s excellent performance in any way.  His work was among the most committed, intense, and heartfelt.  The courage it took to play his role was wild, and he brought everything asked of him plus more to the role.

Overall, typical to any HDC experience, this one was incredibly thought provoking and rewarding.  I am an avid supporter of your purpose and the incredible work you produce.  Rock on, guys, and keep it up.  I CAN’T WAIT to see where this repertory piece goes.  You are a far cry from mediocre, and it is an honor to be in your presence.  Thanks, yo!

For more information on the Hip Hop Dance Conservatory, visit their website:

http://www.hdcny.com/

Or “like” them on facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/hiphopdanceconservatory?sk=wall

The Answer is in Johnny Depp’s Boots

Johnny Depp on Inside The Actors Studio

Reader, Dan Krstyen, responded to “Mediocrity Poisons Broadway and the Critics Rave… Except This One” with a number of questions.  I’ll try my best to touch base on all of his good points.

Dan posed the following questions regarding my New York theatre experience:

1.)    What theatre have you seen?

The theatre that has inspired this website of strong yet bendable opinions includes productions in New York City from July 2010 through May 2011 that I have personally seen.  This includes a couple Broadway productions, some off Broadway productions and unofficial, self proclaimed off-off Broadway productions throughout Manhattan, including other amateur work in the boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn.  Some productions include Arcadia at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre, The Phantom of the Opera at The Majestic Theatre, American Idiot  at St. James Theatre (Broadway) as well as The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore at Roundabout, The Fantastiks at the Jerry Orbach Theatre, The Shaughraun at The Irish Repertory Theatre (Off-Broadway).  Some amateur productions include works by Write Act East Side such as Caba’J, Development Soup, and  Jar’d (a developing play full of potential by up and coming playwright, Kelsey Mathes), Play/War by the Urban Research Theater,  Thicker Than Water: The Blood Plays presented by Living Room Theatre, Monroe, Illinois: Over Here/Townie by On The Square Productions, Dollface by Theater for the New City, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels by The Strivelli Players, a couple of Amios Productions’ monthly performances of Shots, Women Behind Bars at The Heights Players, The Colors of Love produced by The Black Latina Movement, Inside Voices at the Girl Aquarium at The Jewel Box Theater, As You Like It with FNDo It! Productions, and The Present Company, award winners of the New York International Fringe Festival with their original production of Lost and Found who delivered the most impressive work I’ve seen in my time thus far in the city.

3 and 4.) What is it about the theatre that makes it mediocre and what is your definition of good theatre?

I’m combining these two questions because what makes these works of theatre mediocre is simply the lack of what defines “good theatre.”  Let me quickly brief what most of my reflections are referring to: my qualifiers for “good theatre” are largely influenced by the quality of the acting since the majority of my experience is in the performance aspect. A lot of what I discuss also refers to realistic plays rather than experimental theatre or that of the avant garde. This is mainly so, simply because this is the style of which I prefer and have the strongest knowledge base.  That being said, good theatre, such as The Present Company’s Lost and Found, hinges primarily on two things: honesty and lack of ego.  Lost and Found was a successful show because the actors were rooted in a reality that I as an audience member, believed.  The actors were living moment to moment, doing their doings and most importantly, “living truthfully in imaginary circumstances.”  Honest acting is reflected in actors who have accepted their given circumstances and are focused on nothing more than following through with their objectives, keeping the action of the play moving forward, and allowing emotion to be a by-product of the action rather than a priority.

Theatre with an ego describes actors who are aware that they are acting.  Sometimes it is further tainted with an egotistical spice that suggests, “yes I’m acting and look at how good I am!” In Arcadia, I was most disappointed by Lia Williams’ and Grace Gunners’ work.  The play opened with an action.  Lia Williams as Hannah Jarvis unfolds Mr. Noakes’ sketch book and is supposed to simply look at the sketch book and look outside, back and forth, comparing the sketches to the actual environment.  However, Lia Williams made a show of the simple action.  She added a flair that was unnatural.  If she were to do the same thing in real life, it would be much simpler.  It wouldn’t have looked like it did up there on The Ethel Barrymore Theatre’s stage.  She wasn’t up there opening pages or looking outside.  She was up there acting, and if anyone is ever noticeably acting, it is really what I like to call “acting schmacting.”  Throughout the rest of the play, Ms. Williams and Ms. Gunner carried on with an awareness that they had made it to Broadway.  On top of this, they were imitating how they thought someone who had made it to Broadway should be on stage.  They were acting as actresses, not as Hannah Jarvis and Chloe Coverly.

When one can sense that an actor is acting; when the actor has altered his or her voice (note, this does not apply to appropriate character voices implemented as an acting choice) or if it is indicated that the actor’s main purpose is “to perform” rather than “to seduce the other” or “to fall in love” or “to get revenge” or whatever the play calls for, that is bad acting.  That is acting with an ego.  To act is not to pretend, but to do.

People have mistaken this “acting schmacting” as good acting simply because we have been conditioned for it.  A former roommate of mine once told me about meeting her new acting partner for a short play they were in.  “He has such a great actor voice.  With his presence, you can just tell he is an actor.”  I threw up a little in my mouth.  The stage should be populated with real, raw people of all shapes, looks, and sizes who work with what they have and don’t put on “acting voices” and whose “stage presences” are simply the result of their being alive in the moment and investing themselves in the other.  After all, isn’t that what life is?  Don’t we want to be putting a heightened reality onstage?

I love this clip of Johnny Depp (below).
Johnny Depp is a good actor because he doesn’t let anyone else invade his space or invade his being.  There is a person here, not a product.   He brings himself to the space, complete with his cigarettes and run down boots.  He offers who he is and that is all.  There is no glam here, no act, no ego.  A fellow actor here in the city who was trying to mentor me once told me, “Make sure you know how you look best onstage, from what angle you look good.  For example, pony tails onstage for me: never.”  Again, vomit in my mouth.  Life is ugly.  Our theatre, our actors need to be uglier.  Get over the egos and get behind the story.  We are here for the story; not to look pretty.

 

 

4 and 5) How do you yourself plan to “set the fire under the butts of your theater artist filled community?”and  what do you plan do to, or what do you think, should be done about mediocre audiences?

To set such a fire we need to set mediocre audiences straight and the only way this can happen is to get honest actors who put the play before their own egos on our New York stages.  By exposing audiences to such theatre, they will be reconditioned and they will learn to set their standards higher.  They will demand what I’m currently demanding from the theatre.

6.) What does it mean, in your opinion, to “work hard” in theater?

To work hard in theatre is to 1.) do your homework on a role and 2.) be specific.  There is a certain amount of research and work that must be done off stage in order to truly be able to delve into a role.  We owe this to our characters.  Each character is an entire life and we must grasp as many aspects of that life as possible.  This is done through library research of the history of where the play takes place, any psychological ticks or disorders the character may have, maybe even what his/her astrological sign says about the character if that’s what you believe, anything that will shed light on as many of the play’s given circumstances as possible.  Then, onstage, work less.  Throw intellect away, keeping it only in the very back of your mind.  Act on instincts and let discoveries arise organically.  Allow your emotional life to breathe and be open each and every moment.  All of this work will allow one of the major things that bring a play to life: specificity.  When an actor has an understanding and love for his/ character, the actor’s work becomes specific.  Choices are specific and unique, and the character becomes a living breathing human being as opposed to an unspecific stereotype or, a general wash.  These stereotypes, arrived at accidentally, are the biggest indicator of an actor who has not done his or her work.  All these things really are merely “givens.”  They are merely what acting is.  However, at this point in the life span of NYC’s theatre, our actors need a reminder.

And you know when you’ve done “enough.”  Your gut tells you.

I will continue to push even the most amateur of productions to live up to these standards.  No.  Especially the most amateur productions.  I don’t care if you are on Broadway or operating out of the basement of Temple Shalom, using the AA meeting’s folding chairs as seats:  we should hold each character’s life in each play with the utmost reverence.  It is someone’s life up there on that stage, not your time to shine.  Plays are meant to serve something much greater than one’s ego.  As one of my greatest acting coaches, Brianne Beatrice, would say, “It’s not about you!”

The Irish Rogue Without the Brogue

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On Thursday, May 26, 2011 around 7:45pm, a few friends and I jumped out of a cab and hustled into the quaint lobby of the Irish Repertory Theatre.   Coming from the congested, shopping frenzied streets of Soho, the Irish Rep’s warm, dimly lit lobby uptown a bit on west 22^nd was a most welcomed change of atmosphere.

As I waited in line inside for the restroom (of course) which is practically inside the house, a smile crept across my face and my legs got a small case of those playful bounce things they do when theatre is in the air.  It’s like an animal sensing the coming of a storm … only less ominous.  I instantly loved the aesthetics of the pre show lights on the set.  They stirred an excitement and curiosity.  The space of the Francis J. Greenburger Mainstage was intimate, and I was eager to become part of the world it would host that night.

Dion Boucicault’s, The Shaughraun, is a melodramatic comedy, written during the 19^th century.  It is ultimately a story about love and trickery. Robert Ffolliot, with the help of Conn, the title role, has returned home from Australia where he was transported after being wrongfully convicted as a Fenian.  The action of the story, spiced with fake outs and deceit, jumps through hoops and fire in order to keep Robert out of the hands of Captain Harry Molineux, a British office, and into the arms of his betrothed, Arte O’Neil.   The plot is complicated with the presence of Kinchela, Claire Ffolliot’s and Arte O’Neil’s landlord, who threatens to leave the girls bereft of everything they own unless Arte agrees to marry him.  Throw in an unexpected love affair between Robert’s sister, Claire, and his pursuant, Molineux, and you have a small scale Irish farce, complete with song and jig.

However, director, Charlotte Moore, opted not to allow The Shaughraun to live up to its full farcical potential.  It seemed that, by choice, she downsized the game of the play in order to fit the size of the theatre.  Ms. Moore merely grazed the top of a farce with her blocking and set.  We could see only the beginnings of it with scenery that had multiple doors built in, but were only utilized sometimes and in blocking such as when Molineux and Claire advanced closer and closer to one another in the scene where they were first about to kiss.  The blocking was similar throughout the play and it stayed on one plane which was unsatisfying.  There was a trio – the perfect opportunity for classic physical comedy, but their dynamic never even came alive.  Directorially, I would invite Ms. Moore to have more fun, go bigger and let loose.  Let the play play the actors rather than the actors play the play.  Because this didn’t happen, the style was off and I did not buy the world before me.  The actors teetered between reality and overt comedy, but were grounded in neither.  Because the direction and style of the play were never truly established (or was, but in a way which unfortunately didn’t work), what resulted was a cast, conscious that they were doing a play and thus, imposing themselves on it.

There was hope for actress, Allison Jean White who played Claire Ffolliot.  She grasped the stylistic intentions of the playwright the most.  Her character earned a spot in my heart when she mournfully admitted that she has been in love with Molineux for the past three hours.  With a cast that did not allow me as an audience member to truly let them in and care about them, Ms. White was the only to get me emotionally invested and genuinely interested in her character.  However, it took a few scenes to do so.  Ms. White had good comedic timing and the poor thing’s grapple between her dedication to her brother and her unavoidable love for Molineux was a joy to watch.  Her best moment was a long, drawn out fall to the ground in despair.  She did not milk it, but took her time and earned every second of the descent.  She was one of the few who had specificity in her physicality with her character’s inclination to wrist twirls as a way of expressing herself.  I would encourage Ms. White’ affinity for comedy and invite her to go bigger with it as well as to find even more specificity.

The rest of the cast did not necessarily lack comedic timing.  Conn’s (Patrick Fitzgerald) placement of his whiskey bottle on Father Dolan’s (Geddeth Smith) table landed just right, and Harvey Ruff’s (Tim Ruddy) fall to his death at the end of the play could not have been timed more perfectly.  Mark Shanahan also had a wonderfully delivered line, “Drop those knives!” as he popped into a window that made me laugh out loud.  The overall tempo of the play was quick to match its wit.  However, the tempo was consciously instilled rather than being organically attained from genuine listening and reacting.  The actors rarely breathed one another in.  Many times I found myself breathing for them from the house.  They were not all truly present in their moments and thus, relationships among the characters were not realized to their full potential.

The poor execution of the Irish brogue for all cast members deprived the play of authenticity.  Across the board, “L’s” were not dark enough, “th” was changed to “t” only a handful of times, “my” was pronounced as Americans do, rather than the charming “mi” that we love hearing from the Irish.  Vowels were inconsistent and all wrong in most cases.  Katie Fabel,  who played Arte O’Neal, had a dialect that was mechanical and put on; sometimes it almost disappeared completely.  So much of the charming heart of an Irish play lies in the twinkling musicality of the brogue and unfortunately, in The Shaughraun, this was completely lost.

Overall, The Irish Repertory Theatre’s production of The Shaughraun  was potential energy that never turned kinetic.  One audience member’s reaction to the play was simply, “It’s cute.” The plot was rendered mechanically and lacked spirit, fun, and heart.  This was because the container in which the cast was given to play within was too small.  Most actors’ consciousness that they were performing a play held them back from finding the real emotional lives of their characters.  The actors did not live as their characters, but went through the motions.  They were trying, but in the wrong way.  They failed to abandon their actor selves on stage and delve into their characters completely.

Maybe it’s due to all that Irish rain, but I diagnose this play as a bit under the weather.   Breath, playfulness, and authenticity are prescriptions for the cure.  Until this cast recoops, my advice: skip it.

The Shaughraun

 The Irish Repertory Theatre, 132 West 22nd st, New York, NY.

 Wednesday- Saturday at 8pm

Wednesday, Saturday, Sunday at 3pm

http://www.irishrep.org/

Mediocrity Poisons Broadway and the Critics Rave … Except This One

To respond to the following article, please click the number in the thought cloud to the right of the title.

The following thoughts, critiques, rants, tangents, reflections, etc. are in a desperate response to the state of New York Theatre today.  I prelude these pages with the disclaimer that everything is in my humble, but educated and intuition driven opinion.  I am young and lack experience.  I know I may look back on these pages decades from now and scoff at my conceit; my opinions on theatre will change.  After all, theatre is ever morphing.  It is the gift that keeps giving as the definition of “what theatre is to you” takes on more and more layers of meaning as one learns more, experiences more, sees more.

Because of this awareness, everything I say is laced with humility; it’s the wiggle room we should all leave to realize later we were wrong.  This, I believe is a sign of an intelligent individual who aims for truth which is grander in the scheme of things than self fortifying thinking, a mindset that often comes off as defensive.  I realize that it is nobler to allow in vulnerability, to let go of defensive behavior as a sacrifice for the honest to god truth.  That’s what theatre should seek anyway, and because truthful theatre is my God, I incorporate this into my own every day living, and thus incorporate it into my criticisms of New York theatre.

So, there, I’ve covered humility.  The second adjective I chose above was “intuition driven.”  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in theatre, it is to follow your instincts.  Follow your instincts and you will be freed.   The best moments in theatre I’ve seen or experienced were not of the intellect, but were of the heart, the soul, the gut.  This translates from the actor onstage to the critic in the audience in that it doesn’t take a theatre scholar to identify a good play.  We know what is good simply by the way it affects us.  However, it is our environment paired with the need to please society (to make them think we’re smart … it’s comical we even think they care!) that subconsciously encourages audience members to re adjust their honest opinions of what lies before them onstage.

Our theatre environment is that of a bacterial colony, festering with mediocrity.  I hate mediocrity.  Our society fosters this mediocrity because they distrust their instincts, abandon them completely, and convince themselves that this theatre is spectacular in order to disappear into the accepted mold.  Our theatre is mediocre, and our audiences are mediocre.  It is not their fault; it is that of psychology’s.  They are told that this is good theatre and in their heart of hearts, they may not like it, but they feel the need to warp their opinions in order to appear cultured.   But on some level, they know this is only mediocre.  Maybe it’s difficult for some to identify because they have nothing with which to compare, but we must demand more.  We must, must, MUST demand more from our theatre of today. If our mediocre audiences were exposed to a truly spectacular play, they wouldn’t know what hit them.

Last night I saw a play with some friends.  If I’m a priest of theatre, it’d be safe to describe them as lay theatre people.   When the play was over, they claimed they loved the show.  However, throughout its duration, my friend to my right glanced at her Blackberry more than four times and my friend to the left allowed me to interrupt her theatre experience by having her search for a pen in her bag.  They don’t yet know what it’s like to be engrossed in a theatrical experience.  I was like this once.  When I was thirteen, a traveling Shakespeare company put on MacBeth and Romeo and Juliet in our public school’s auditorium.  I was a drama kid and therefore, my expectations for myself were to love and appreciate the play.  Apparently I decided that this was going to be the case no matter what.  I told everyone the show was great.  My appreciation for such a high art helped define me as a “drama kid.”  I continued with my day, fulfilling my role in our school’s small scale society as theatre geek.  I liked the plays.  The truth?  I hated them, but I wouldn’t admit that, even to myself.  I couldn’t follow the story, I didn’t believe the actors, but because I didn’t have my own education, I thought that I thought these shows were good because I was told they were.  Looking back now, after eleven more years on the stage and attaining a BFA in theatre arts, I realize the plays were poorly executed.  As a thirteen year old, my gut told me this.  But society made me change my view.

Theatres and theatre audiences of today are defeated; they have taken the lazy way out.  Maybe it’s for fear that this is all we have for theatre and we must take it for what it is.  I invite them to empower themselves and open their eyes to the fact that one need not be a theatre connoisseur to diagnose theatre as good and bad.  I for one refuse to settle.  I refuse to allow the quality of our theatre to match the quality of most things in our society.  This is the generation of mediocrity, and we must roll out of our beds and rebel.  You must work harder.  I must work harder.  We must raise our standards and demand more.  Then we must live up to them, ourselves.  My standards are high.  I’ve never met them.  It’s scary to do this: to set a bar so high.  We fear that we are merely setting ourselves up for failure, but we must do this.  You must “shoot for the moon; for even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

These two concepts, humility and intuition, are from where my opinions stem.  I invite into my stance the humility that I may be wrong.  I’ve decided to value truth more than myself and my pride, and when judging a performance or a moment, I use my gut as my guide.  The reason I have taken the time to explain these are twofold:

1. To know from where the following thoughts are coming, and, more importantly …

2. These two principles as a platform for a critic should also be at work as a platform for an actor, director, or writer.

When a theatre artist allows humility and intuition into his or her work, then and only then, will truly wonderful theatre develop.  So, audience members and fellow critics, demand more.  You are paying so much for Broadway and Off-Brodway tickets.  Even the little plays that litter the theatre of New York are taking up your valuable time, so set a fire under the butts of your theatre artist filled community.  Allow this fire to spread into your own territory and together, we can live up to higher standards.  Our reward?  Richer, deeper, meaningful, moving theatre: adjectives that should precede the noun, theatre, as a rule, not an exception.