Why Study Theatre?

And Remembering Peter C. Newman

Not long after I was a University of Victoria student (about a century ago) I was a columnist for one of Canada’s two national theatre magazines Theatrum (RIP). One of my first stories was sparked by a conversation with two friends and one stranger who were considering theatre school.

Over the next few years I discovered that the article was posted on bulletin boards at a lot of Canadian theatres and theatre schools - including UVic - and remained there for years. At some of the first Fringe festivals I did shows at I was “the guy who wrote that article.” My wife, who was studying theatre at York when this story came out, just read this for the first time and told me that her profs quoted several lines from this in class.

This was the 1990s equivalent of “viral.”

This was also one of the three pieces in Theatrum that landed me a National Magazine Award for “best columnist.” I took the silver. The gold went to someone writing en francais - so I guess I won the english category that year, beating every columnist I’d grown up admiring.

Cut to a lifetime later. I’ve spent forty + years in the theatre. And now I’m a UVic prof teaching a course introducing students to Fine Arts and thought… why not share this again?

I can think of a few more reasons for pursuing the Fine Arts now - like the fact that almost no “stable” job is stable, so why not learn about something you love - but here was my take on theatre school at the end of the last millennium. 

I think this was just called Theatre School in Theatrum. The Vancouver Sun reprinted it (minus the f-word) on June 11, 1994 with the illustration below and the title Theatre of the Absurd. Because this is my Substack, the f-word is back.

Theatre of the Absurd

I've spoken to a few people recently who wanted to know whether they should go to theatre school and, if so, which one. They were considering theatre as a career and I tried to offer a thoughtful assessment of the universities I attended and the other programs I'm aware of.

Then, after our talks, I'd have these nagging feelings of guilt. I'd answered their questions but I didn't say what I probably should have which is something a little less like, "such and such has a good acting program" and a little more like, "Theatre? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

It used to be that if you wanted to convert to Judaism you had to approach the Rabbi on three different occasions. On the first two visits the Rabbi would try to talk you out of the idea in order to test your convictions. Finally, on the third visit, he'd concede and allow you to spend the next year learning more about the religion than most people who are born to it.

I think theatre programs should take the same approach. Instead of accepting anyone who has the grades, does a decent audition and can handle the tuition, theatre instructors should first suggest that anyone wanting to enrol is probably nuts.>

Writing plays is about as sensible a vocation to study as barrel-making or sky-diving. Most theatre companies don't actually want to produce new plays -- although they're delighted to support and/or workshop them in order to convince the granting agencies of their commitment to new work. New plays tend to come with live authors and live authors not only demand royalties, they sometimes attempt to attend rehearsals and may even have opinions on how things ought to be done. Not only that, new plays are harder to market because few live authors have the type of name brand

status that sells every commodity from books to detergent. Even theatres that are committed to new work prefer new work by old authors and even "hot plays" by established writers rarely receive more than a handful of productions. I'd tell you how little royalties are for a typical run, but actually seeing the numbers in print could send any playwrights reading this straight into therapy and chances are they can't afford it.

Directing is stupid too. Freelance directors generally have a choice between doing work they love and starving or making a marginal living by doing work that doesn't really interest them. This means most directors dream of the day they can finally run their own company. Unfortunately, once their wish comes true they quickly discover they have no time to direct because they're too busy filling out grant applications, dealing with office politics and schmoozing potential donors.

Acting is even crazier. Aside from modelling, it's the only business where your looks are more important than your resume and a good week is when you apply for more jobs than most people work at in an entire lifetime. If you ever do land a steady job, chances are you'll find yourself bored silly after your fourth consecutive month as Little Red Riding Hood or an overdressed dancing cat. Of course, if you're one of the fortunate few, you'll break into TV and film where you'll get paid large sums of money for waiting in a trailer, drinking coffee and, on rare occasions, actually performing a few lines out of context before getting back to the real business of waiting in the trailer.

Backstage work is a bit steadier -- although by real world standards the money still sucks -- but you'll seldom receive proper credit for your accomplishments. Designers, stage managers and crew also have to put up with understandably neurotic actors and directors.

General managers and publicists are arguably the looniest of them all. These are people who actually have skills that are coveted in the real world but insist on working for half of what they'd make in the private sector, while frequently being treated as a necessary but incomprehensible evil by the people they're killing themselves for.

As far as I can tell the only stable job in theatre is teaching it, which is probably why schools are never going to discourage the endless supply of enthusiastic victims.

Working in the theatre is a stupid way to spend your life. There's no job security, no dental plan, you may never have your own house or car and some months you'll be lucky if you can afford a bus pass. If you're a playwright, director, actor or designer, one day the critics will write or say crueller things about you in public than you said to your best friend about the first lover who ever dumped you. And when you get right down to it, the world needs another new play like the head of Greenpeace needs a chainsaw.

Theatre isn't a career, it's a religion and like all religions it runs on faith, not logic. Most people who have the skills and smarts to make it in theatre are more than capable of working in the real world, but what keeps them onstage is a belief that what takes place in those darkened halls just may have the power to transform or heal and the moments of absolutely magic that you can never explain to the non-believer.

That's why nobody should ever choose to work in the theatre. It’s not something you do just because you think it might be fun. If you're capable of making the choice, chances are you'd be better off in the audience.

Remembering Peter C. Newman and his column that changed my life

The day Peter. C. Newman interviewed me a lifetime or so ago, we met at a restaurant on Broadway in Vancouver and, when he arrived, he told me he had just had his chakras aligned. Whoever I thought he was... he was so much more. And it felt so strange to me that he was interviewing me instead of the other way around. I’m sure this column let to so many bookings across Canada and didn’t hurt us in landing a TV special and a lot of TV and radio appearances. Here's the story from Maclean’s - Jan 24, 1994. A wonderful writer and an iconic Canadian.