Stay in the Loop
BSR publishes on a weekly schedule, with an email newsletter every Wednesday and Thursday morning. There’s no paywall, and subscribing is always free.
What's it all about, theater folks?
Producers vs. critics: Two questions
Dan Rottenberg
Two questions I didn't have time to ask the theater producers (Bernard Havard of the Walnut, Charles McMahon of Lantern and Seth Rozin of InterAct) at Broad Street Review's symposium on theater critics last week:
1. If you could choose between a negative, uninformed or mean-spirited review of your production or no review at all, which would you prefer?
This question isn't intended facetiously. As the author of ten books, some of which I've nurtured literally for decades, I've often seen my labors airily dismissed by book reviewers who, in my admittedly subjective judgment, weren't fit to lick my boots. Still, I welcome even the loopiest feedback.
As I see it, each of my books isn't an end in itself but a tool for dispersing ideas and information into the atmosphere. And each comment about my book isn't the last word on the subject but more like the first. What people will do with my ideas and those of my critics— now and in the future— that's what it's all about. As Henry Ward Beecher put it, "The blossom cannot tell what becomes of its fragrance, and no man can tell what becomes of his influence." But if people don't respond at all— that's cause for concern.
Besides, it's always possible that my critics are right and I'm wrong. If I listen to them, maybe I'll learn something.
"'I don't read reviews'
2. In your ideal scenario, what would you like to happen when you mount a production?
Presumably you'd hope for a dynamic performance of a stimulating script, confirmed by unanimous rave reviews that generate sellout houses filled with uniformly satisfied customers who fork over sufficient cash to balance your budgets and feed your families, yes? But what then? Anything more? Is the play merely an end in itself?
"I don't read reviews," suggested Seth Rozin, the co-founder and driving force behind InterAct, during Thursday's discussion. "I don't care what others say. I don't think they're a good judge of my work. My only interest is in the future life of the play."
These are dismaying words from a director whose company trumpets the slogan, "Changing the world…. one play at a time." You and I may legitimately question the artistic merit of theater with a political agenda, but for the past 23 years— at least until last Thursday— InterAct has been that rare Philadelphia theater company to explicitly contend that the purpose of theater transcends the mere mounting of plays.
Who needs whom?
At Thursday's symposium, Margie Salvante of the Philadelphia Theatre Alliance argued that critics and directors need each other, and that we're all partners in a larger enterprise. It's not an argument I find persuasive— from my perspective, I'm engaged in a conversation with my friends about the arts, not necessarily for the arts— but there is something to be said for the notion that directors and producers need critics, even really bad critics.
What, after all, is the ultimate purpose of theater, if not to generate the conversations— among critics, audiences, idiots, whatever— that will, in some small and imperceptible manner, change the world, one play at a time?♦
To read a related comment by Jackie Atkins, click here.
To read a related comment by Jim Rutter, click here.
To read responses, click here.
1. If you could choose between a negative, uninformed or mean-spirited review of your production or no review at all, which would you prefer?
This question isn't intended facetiously. As the author of ten books, some of which I've nurtured literally for decades, I've often seen my labors airily dismissed by book reviewers who, in my admittedly subjective judgment, weren't fit to lick my boots. Still, I welcome even the loopiest feedback.
As I see it, each of my books isn't an end in itself but a tool for dispersing ideas and information into the atmosphere. And each comment about my book isn't the last word on the subject but more like the first. What people will do with my ideas and those of my critics— now and in the future— that's what it's all about. As Henry Ward Beecher put it, "The blossom cannot tell what becomes of its fragrance, and no man can tell what becomes of his influence." But if people don't respond at all— that's cause for concern.
Besides, it's always possible that my critics are right and I'm wrong. If I listen to them, maybe I'll learn something.
"'I don't read reviews'
2. In your ideal scenario, what would you like to happen when you mount a production?
Presumably you'd hope for a dynamic performance of a stimulating script, confirmed by unanimous rave reviews that generate sellout houses filled with uniformly satisfied customers who fork over sufficient cash to balance your budgets and feed your families, yes? But what then? Anything more? Is the play merely an end in itself?
"I don't read reviews," suggested Seth Rozin, the co-founder and driving force behind InterAct, during Thursday's discussion. "I don't care what others say. I don't think they're a good judge of my work. My only interest is in the future life of the play."
These are dismaying words from a director whose company trumpets the slogan, "Changing the world…. one play at a time." You and I may legitimately question the artistic merit of theater with a political agenda, but for the past 23 years— at least until last Thursday— InterAct has been that rare Philadelphia theater company to explicitly contend that the purpose of theater transcends the mere mounting of plays.
Who needs whom?
At Thursday's symposium, Margie Salvante of the Philadelphia Theatre Alliance argued that critics and directors need each other, and that we're all partners in a larger enterprise. It's not an argument I find persuasive— from my perspective, I'm engaged in a conversation with my friends about the arts, not necessarily for the arts— but there is something to be said for the notion that directors and producers need critics, even really bad critics.
What, after all, is the ultimate purpose of theater, if not to generate the conversations— among critics, audiences, idiots, whatever— that will, in some small and imperceptible manner, change the world, one play at a time?♦
To read a related comment by Jackie Atkins, click here.
To read a related comment by Jim Rutter, click here.
To read responses, click here.
Sign up for our newsletter
All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.
