Monday, September 16, 2013
(Re)Search: Dramaturgical Catharsis
HowlRound: One of the hardest tasks for me to perform as a dramaturg is relinquishing my work to an audience. I’ve known the time was coming; I’ve been working towards that first read-through for months. And yet I find myself with the copies thinking, have I revised enough? Have I been clear? Will this be helpful? And the even harder question comes after opening night: What am I going to do now? While this is a feeling that has subsided with each production, I feel that it is still one of the hardest parts of my job. Designers get to see their work come down in an often cathartic dismantling of the set. Directors and actors often receive audience applause at the end of each performance. But it can feel that dramaturgs have to find their own catharsis in a simple handing out of a research packet or a much-anticipated talkback or lobby display. This idea always strikes me when I try to communicate what I have done for a production to friends or family members. As a props master, I could send them a picture of the work I created. “Look for the breakaway table in Spelling Bee, I’ve made four of them this week!” As someone who provides research, the question remains: how do you showcase your work and, furthermore, how do you let it go?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
This article gives a really great insight into a dramaturgs position in a production. Yes, by now, we all know what dramaturgs do. But Windham's article describes something else, a dramaturg's attachment to a production, and it showed me a new aspect of their work.
And now I find myself thinking. Yeah, I have an idea of what it must be like for actors and directors when a show opens and closes. But do I really know? Nope. And they probably have no idea how it feels from a designer or manager's point of view. I wonder, would it be valuable for us all to go beyond explaining the functions of the various disciplines in a production, and share experiences on a more personal and reflective level? Probably.
Also, the idea of "Analog Sundays". It's great, and we should all do it. But I just don't see myself doing that any time soon. I guess in a sense I don't really feel the need. I always have my phone with me, but I don't feel like the time I spend using technology is too much. Maybe it is, and I'm just in denial. Oh well.
I really like the idea of a do nothing sunday not because you don't feel like doing work but because it helps you do more work the rest of the week days. Last year I discovered that I had a great deal of trouble doing work on saturdays and often I would go into the studios early leave late and accomplish very little work, then the next day I would do large amounts of my work. As I tried to change this my saturdays got more productive but my sundays suffered. I have been trying to do this and it has started to help I just find I still do some work on sundays.
This is the second blog post of Bree's that I have read; I appreciate her approach to the work of dramaturgy. There are many people in the theatre community who are confused about the importance of dramaturgs and could benefit greatly from reading Bree's blog. I have been fortunate enough to have been involved in a few rehearsal processes in which the dramaturg was present in rehearsal and was an invaluable resource. As Bree describes in this article, there's no doubt that someone who has put that kind of work into the show has made an impact on what the audience sees. It may not be immediately evident to an audience member that someone had to help the actors with pronunciations, teach them about the play's time period, etc. It's certain, though, that some audience members would notice errors in accuracy. (Audiences are smarter than a lot of people give them credit for.)
Anyways, I'd like to touch on the idea of "Analog Sundays". I admire Bree for being able to do this. She mentions sometimes not being able to fully honor the occasion because she has pressing emails about a production she's working on, but I believe that there's nothing on a production that can't wait until Monday. Personally, I wouldn't be able to participate in "Analog Sundays" for other reasons, but emails from people about a production wouldn't stop me. Part of the curse of having email on our phones is that we constantly feel that people are nagging us and needs answers right away, but that often isn't true. Most of the time, it can wait until Monday.
Post a Comment