This Is Soup . . . and This Is Art

So much for my goal of posting once a week – with overlapping shows and the ongoing, epic quest to become a productive member of society, I’m afraid I lost a few weeks.  But I’m jumping back in with a topic that was actually brought to light by a comment on one of my previous posts. The topic of the previous post is irrelevant, but one of the strongest protestors burst out with a frustrated:

"And, tellingly, why is no one advocating for the audience?"

My simple answer to this is: The audience must advocate for the audience. Why should anyone other than the audience speak for the audience? Why should they not be allowed to vote with their feet, and their wallets?

But since this is a blog, a simple answer simply will not do.

I show 'em this can of Campbell's tomato soup. I say, "This is soup."

 Then I show 'em a picture of Andy Warhol's painting of a can of Campbell's tomato soup. I say, "This is art."

 "This is soup." "And this is art."

 Then I shuffle the two behind my back. Now what is this?

 No, this is soup and this is art!

                   -Trudy the Bag Lady, Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe

Is it our job, as directors, actors, playwrights, to explain to our audience the difference between soup and art? While it seems some readers of this blog would say “Yes!”, I would argue no. Theatre audiences are smart, tuned in people who can be trusted to divine what is intended from a theatre piece, without dumbing it down for their sake. Provided, of course, that the actors and the director put the effort into understanding the material themselves, and conveying it clearly.

It’s dangerous, as artists, to ensconce ourselves in a bubble of mental superiority, to assume that we know and understand something that the general public could never really “get”. It leads to one of two extremes: a drive to create ever more inscrutable art, to prove a level of perception that the” common man” could never hope to achieve.  Or to pander to your audience instead of trusting them, dumbing things down to make them  “accessible” to the public at large, instead of allowing them the freedom to engage with the art by thinking about it, questioning it, analyzing it.

A class on directing that I’ve been teaching recently showcased their pieces for friends and family. One of the directors chose a well-written, funny play that was an easy laugh. It was a quality script, but required nothing from the audience except to be entertained. The audience chuckled, laughed, and roared throughout. The other directors worked with scripts that were a little more challenging for the audience, and played to a much quieter crowd. All the pieces were well-received, and afterwards, the director with the “easy” piece received well-deserved kudos and congratulations. The other directors got . . . questions. Excited, probing, thoughtful questions. The audience remained engaged with those pieces long after the lights went down. They didn’t need it spoon fed to them, they thrilled at the opportunity to participate intellectually.

None of this means you force your own idea of art on the nearest group of theatre goers. It means you know your place in the theatre world. Know what kind of art you create, and who your audience is, and go find them. 

What is the audience’s role in all this? Passive observers, meant to meekly fork over their money and absorb what we place before them with as little mental effort as possible?

Did I tell you what happened at the play? We were at the back of the theater, standing there in the dark, all of a sudden I feel one of 'em tug my sleeve, and whispers, "Trudy, look."

 I said, "Yeah, goose bumps. You definitely got goose bumps. You really like the play that much?"

They said it wasn't the play gave 'em goose bumps, it was the audience.

I forgot to tell 'em to watch the play; they'd been watching the audience! Yeah, to see a group of strangers sitting together in the dark, laughing and crying about the same things...that just knocked 'em out.

 They said, "Trudy, the play was soup...the audience...art."

 Don’t treat the audience like soup. Give them the chance to be part of the art.