Hold please. . . .
This photo was taken at the Globe Theatre in London, where it rains even more often than it does in Seattle.
As an avid theatergoer and reviewer I have attended quite a few performances that were suddenly halted in the middle.
“Hold please—“
There are plenty of reasons: Power outages. Technical snafus. Actor injuries. Audience emergencies. Rain.
It’s disappointing when the show doesn’t “go on,” but it’s also a reminder of just how precarious live performances are. The odds of so many artists, stage crew, pieces of technology and machinery working together seamlessly without missing a cue are ludicrously low, and yet the nights when things truly go off the rails are the exception.
“I just—”
After living in Madison for the last 20 years and writing about hundreds of dance, theater and music events all over Southern Wisconsin, I now find myself leaving abruptly in what feels like the middle of a long conversation with you about the arts. It is disappointing and unnerving for me — I had really hoped to stick around to see how all these stories turn out. But beginning this fall, I will have to read about them from Seattle.
“But wait—”
I would sincerely like to thank Isthmus (along with The Wisconsin State Journal, onmilwaukee, The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, The Cap Times and the long-defunct Coreweekly) for allowing me to have so many wonderful experiences in the arts with so many inspiring people.
In my capacity as a reviewer and journalist I have met some of my heroes. And a lot of unsung heroes. I have been starstruck by Hollywood types and equally struck by the talent and passion of the regular people from next door. I have enjoyed performances from artists of every age and experience level. I have laughed and gasped and cringed and been awed. I have seen new plays come to life, old plays reimagined and promising performers grow year after year. Again, it has been my sincere pleasure to celebrate all the creativity and genius that Wisconsin nurtures.
“One more thing—“
There are lots of things I would like to say in this piece that don’t fit into a standard performance review. Now that I’m writing my last column, here are a few thoughts.
There have been many dire indicators about the health of American theater over the last year, and all of them should be taken seriously. Across the board, national and regional performing arts organizations have seen subscriptions, single ticket sales and overall attendance numbers fall dramatically since the pandemic. Foundation grants, government support and individual giving is down. New play development has all but disappeared and artistic directors are having a harder time than ever programming a compelling mix of plays that will bring audiences to the theater.
None of these problems are new: I have never known a time when running a non-profit arts organization was easy. But the number of large and small companies that have ceased producing in the past 12 months — either temporarily or permanently — is unprecedented and alarming.
Yes, arts groups need to adapt to new audience and income models as times change. But the visual and performing arts — and the artists who create them — also need care from the community.
You’ve heard “the arts are good for business” case — which is true. According to The Arts Action Fund, the arts generated $9.6 billion in revenue in Wisconsin in 2020. (How was your year, FoxConn?) There’s no major industry in Madison that doesn’t mention the city’s vibrant arts scene and Overture Center when they are recruiting. And bringing people out to eat, park and shop in conjunction with an arts event helps a myriad of businesses.
The arts are also good for your brain. They encourage creativity and complex problem-solving skills. They pose necessary questions and confront us with new information. They challenge us to think deeper and be better.
They are even good for your spirit. It’s impossible not to be inspired by the positive feeling of community when 2,000 people all clap their hands — to show that they believe in fairies — in order to bring Tinkerbell back to life.
Most importantly the arts are good for our humanity. They bring joy and catharsis. They teach empathy, compassion and understanding. And in a society that is increasingly polarized politically and economically, increasingly isolated by our collective obsession with iPhones and doom scrolling, and reluctant or ill-equipped to end our own social distancing, empathy is all. It’s the key to the kingdom. It’s how we move forward together.
I have no idea how to encourage our lawmakers to increase funding for the arts in Wisconsin, but that must happen. The fact that we are dead last in the nation in arts subsidies is pathetic — the state spends only 14 cents per person annually. It’s embarrassing. And it’s contributing to the loss of a creative class that this state needs.
On the other side of the equation, we as audiences also need to start showing up. That doesn’t mean you should go to plays or symphonies or art exhibits that you don’t find interesting. But please go to the ones that do pique your curiosity, even a little bit! Art is different in person. It is brighter, bolder, more vital and more unpredictable than any online experience. It is also communal and that can be magical.
There is a 2019 study by the University of Birmingham that you have probably seen referenced in a fundraising letter in the last few years. It says that audience members unconsciously synchronize their brain activity and their heartbeats when they watch the same performance. That connection is extraordinary. It is special. It is too precious to simply discard.
And if you’re frustrated that something you’d like to see isn’t available, speak up. Your feedback is extremely important right now to the people who do the programming. Send them an email or have a conversation. Make your voice heard. This will help everyone.
Madison is not a homogeneous community and its arts scene isn’t either. Could it be more diverse? Sure. Is it only the playground of the elite? No. There are a plethora of arts experiences at every price point available all year round. Could there be more? Sure. So show up. Raise your hand. Raise your voice. Provide the demand. Fill out the post-event survey. Be honest and constructive about feedback. And be part of the process. Be part of the solution.
Great art is transformative. Don’t miss out on your opportunity to experience the most important forms of communication in the world. Art. Music. Dance. Theater. Be part of the audience and be engaged. There’s nothing else as beautiful or powerful or essential.
So, once again, thank you for everything and—-