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I have come to the realization that I can be quite easily outraged. I’ve discussed this topic before, but in the context of playwriting and some of the choices of subject matter that I’ve made: revolving around injustice. I’ve got quite a fierce sense of fairness and the accompanying anger that goes along with what I perceive as being unfair. Of course, sometimes the things that I get angry about can be a little bit less than important–or at least, relevant to my own life. One such subject is the eponymous title for this entry.

There is an article in today’s Cleveland Plain Dealer by Jeremy Gerard (actually of the Bloomberg News) who writes of the “Phony Tony voting” that occurs and that, “Many of the Tony Awards announced…will be given out in flagrant violation of Tony rules.”

So, what are these rules? We’ll pretty simple: a Tony voter is obligated to “see each of the 36 shows that opened this season.” And even if this goal is not achieved, the voters need to see all of the shows in a category if they intend to vote in that category. Seems pretty straightforward to me, how about you? Now, I’m not naive about the time requirement involved here. There is one. Especially if you have a lot going on in your life: and really, who doesn’t? For my blog and a related site I’ve been trying to get off the ground (theatreincleveland.com) that is my goal: to see all the productions in Cleveland–which I’ve found to be a heavy task indeed. BUT, I would never stoop to blogging or reviewing a play I didn’t see–let alone vote on one.

It seems to me that if you’re given the privilege of voting (as voting for the Tony should be) you should meet the obligations outlined and that’s just the way it goes. Of course the reality is that most voters don’t even bother to see the shows they vote against. So, going back to my opening, is it FAIR to vote for a show when you haven’t bothered to see the others in the category? Or worse, and likely the case, is it FAIR to vote for a show you didn’t even see? It certainly calls into question motivations.

So what the hell? I mean, you just go and vote however you want for whomever you want with no regard for being informed? What is this, national politics? For Christ’s sake, at least Art could try to hold up a light in the wilderness regarding these matters. And who the hell is responsible for this process anyhow?? We’ll, let’s see.

Charlotte St. Martin (great name), “executive director of the Broadway League” (no relation to the infamous Redheaded League for you Sherlock Holmes fans) “the trade organization that co-produces the awards, did not return calls over two days of inquiries.”

That’s always a good sign. You are assured that everything is on the up-and-up when the ‘executive director’ doesn’t return calls. I love that one, by the way, it is such a great scheme to avoid a public display of your incompetence. After all, you’re not on the record one way or the other, so your incompetence is left solely to speculation. I, of course, choose to look at the very worst possible scenario–and with a name like Charlotte St. Martin I can’t be too far off in my judgment.

So who else? Come on, who else is supposed to be controlling this mess? Oh, how about the Tony Awards themselves? Well, glad you asked:

“Andy Snyder,” spokesman for the Tonys “said in an e-mail that verifying the votes isn’t the responsibility of Tony Award Productions.”

After all, why should it be? They’re only responsible for…the Tony Awards…?

Here is where the heat level in my neck and face begins to cause flushing. After all, isn’t it the responsibility…the RESPONSIBILITY of the organizations involved in something to make sure that it is fair, accurate, and NOT FRAUDULENT…after all defrauding the public is a crime, isn’t it? But, here is where that little voice inside my head starts asking questions like: in the grand scheme of life, how important a thing is this, really? How much power over your paranoia do you want to grant a Charlotte St. Martin or an Andy Snyder? Or the irresponsible majority of Tony Award voters who base their vote on the hear-say at the bar where they sidle up every night? Their opinions formed by others, or worse: precritical bias, racism, sexism, sexual preference, star-bias, or any host of other factors that have absolutely nothing to do with the play, the performance, or anything RELEVANT to a show.

As much as I hate to agree with Andy Snyder (because I do believe the Tony Awards Productions should have some responsibility for ensuring non-fraudulent activities if its going to grant an award and make people’s careers and spread manure on national television), I do agree that the responsibility for fulfilling the commitments outlined (and NOT LYING or engaging in FRAUD) lies (pun intended) with the Tony voters. If these people cannot fulfill the simple obligations outlined for their participation in the voting, they should be stripped of their rights in the first place (and this does fall to the Tony Awards Productions and the saintly figure from the League). And according to Gerard, “Ensuring an honest vote wouldn’t be difficult to do. The press agents keep tabs on all the members of the press who show up.”

So the bottom line? As Gerard writes:

“more than a third of the Tony voters don’t actually bother to see the shows in contention for Broadway’s signature prize.” Which reduces the whole value of the award to that of a “popularity contest.”

Keep that in mind when you watch the awards tonight (if you bother) and certainly if you intend to make anything of the outcome later on down the road.

I’ve just finished reading the article in American Theatre this month regarding [amazon_link id=”1598530038″ target=”_blank” ]Thorton Wilder’s)[/amazon_link] famous play.

The author of the article, Lori Ann Laster, begins the journey in her pre-teens inside her middle school gymnasium, with the broad statement: “Like many Americans…” I guess, I’m not in that group. I don’t know whether to feel gypped or not. I also don’t know why my all-American hometown, which it was—Fredericktown, Ohio—home of the FFA Jacket—failed to deliver on this one. I think I do feel gypped. Regardless, I digress into another small instance of my all-too-familiar penchant for simmering injustice. That is to say, I didn’t see the play in my pre-teens. In fact, I had no encounter with the play at all until 2007 at Cleveland Public Theatre—actually, that isn’t wholly true—my teacher and mentor, Mike Geither, virtually insisted to one class that we watch Spalding Gray in the video version, which I now have (but haven’t watched—maybe I’ll do that tonight)—but that really doesn’t count as that’s only hearing about the play, not experiencing it.

In reviewing my blog, I find that I did no review of that 2007 performance, which really shocks me. The performance was rated the “most lyrical staging” of 2007 by Scene and was, in fact, really stark and terrific for a host of reasons. Chris Seibert played the part of Emily Webb with a deep earnestness that I’ll not soon forget—and which sent me spiraling back to those terrible days of urgent adolescent yearning that were emotionally and, in certain places, physically painful. George Gibbs, played by Len Lieber, did an equally fantastic job in his earnest portrayal.

In reflecting on the piece I’ve had to dig about on he web. I found the one positive review above and then one negative review in the Free Times by James Damico, who must have some personal dislike of Bobgan as his review is so sharply hysterical. There must be some deep impulse to love [amazon_link id=”1598530038″ target=”_blank” ]Thorton Wilder’s)[/amazon_link] purely and some desire to be touched on his quivering breast by Wilder’s “superior intellect.” I, for one, was able to see beyond such shallowness as the casting and into the emotion of the piece and production; else Damico just likes create a certain high-pitched hysteria, as he clearly likes boasting and ego flashing: demonstrated by his cheap sarcasm obnoxiously brought to the fore by his unnecessary recitation of musical fodder regarding a hypothetical staging by Cleveland Orchestra of Pomp and Circumstance. As well, it’s clear; he couldn’t resist the inappropriateness of stirring in disgusting suggestions of pedophilia. In fact, it’s amazing how much sexual repression I’ve picked up on in so short a review as that by Mr. Damico; perhaps this observation points to the source of the high-pitched hysteria? It’s also nice and lovely to get Mr. Damico’s authentic praxis on how [amazon_link id=”0060535253″ target=”_blank” ]Our Town[/amazon_link] should be staged, complete with a recitation of pages 24-25 of his Our Town Staging Guide, 2nd Edition, on the “specific gravity” of the Stage Manager: because, God-knows both the “genuine and would-be” theater critic is the true knower of all things playwriting, play-building, and play-producing—(as demonstrated, no doubt, by the number of directing awards on his desk).

I since have found another negative review, though less prurient.

There was much physical movement in the production at CPT that included the use of chairs and ladders and a bare set. The movement of chairs, to my mind, was exceptional in that the movement very nearly effected what I would suggest as “camera angles” on the stage: one moment Emily was at stage right and George was at stage left, a quick few movements and all was reversed. For a “theater in the round” as was sort of instantiated at CPT for this play, I thought the “camera angles” were extraordinary and the movement gave a vitality to the piece. It also, for me, was in keeping with Bobgan and Seibert’s use of stools in their production of Caucasian Chalk Circle for STEP. I later learned, of course, that the starkness of the set, the chairs, and even the ladders were a part of Wilder’s directions. And, of course, learned that this was perhaps the crowning achievement of the piece—or one of them, certainly at the time it was written.

As the American Theatre article discusses, the stage in mid- to late-Thirties was “stuck” in trenchant “realism”—massive sets, the well-made play. As Laster writes:

A bare stage, no props, the use of mime, breaking the fourth wall, dismantling the unities of time and place—these were radically innovative devices that astounded audiences at the time when kitchen-sink realism dominated the serious stage, and boulevard comedies and melodrama proliferated…It was by removing the diversion of realistic clutter and tapping into the imagination of audiences that Wilder strove to make what was on the stage reflect the verities of life: “Our claim, our hope, our despair are in the mind—not in things, not in scenery.” 25

The CPT production shocked and stunned me, but more to the point perhaps, I was stunned by Wilder. I am still amazed at the effect of all the component parts put together in three acts led to that transcendence. The New York Times in 1938 wrote, “under the leisurely monotone of the production there is a fragment of immortal truth,” which still came through in 2007, demonstrating the power that Wilder cast up through his piece.

The article in American Theatre goes on to discuss the productions of Our Town at four theatres in the U.S. this year, and some in the past, including the variety of methods being used in the staging to re-create the production for modern audiences—all of which, of course, would be repellant to Mr. Damico, violating pages 1-5 of his Our Town Staging Guide, 2nd Edition, on the “purity of production values” and “reverence for superior intellects.” Of course, the use of bunraku-style puppets at Two River Theater Company would send Damico stark-raving mad and he’d no doubt rush the stage in a frothy-mouthed ecstasy screaming something about the trauma done to the “timeless nature of small-town existence” by the use of puppetry.

Laster ends her discussion of [amazon_link id=”0060535253″ target=”_blank” ]Our Town[/amazon_link] by drawing our attention to when it was written and what was happening in the world, and notes that a certain resurgence of the piece may be due to a similar impulse in our own time—a yearning for a simpler, more pure time in our American past—that small Grover’s Corners in our idyllic dream of America. Although the great grandson of Wilder is quoted speculating that [amazon_link id=”0060535253″ target=”_blank” ]Our Town[/amazon_link] is staged every night somewhere in America. How accurate that speculation is difficult to gauge.

An interesting commentary by Mike Harden in the Metro section of the Columbus Dispatch which I saw this weekend while visiting my parents drew another possibility, as one message of [amazon_link id=”0060535253″ target=”_blank” ]Our Town[/amazon_link], certainly one drawn from Emily Webb’s visitation of her family after she had shuffled off her mortal coil, is to live life in the present, to not allow pettiness and selfish focus to cause you to overlook the wonderful life you have in front of you right now. A certain, strong, Buddhist metaphysics indeed.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention, at least in passing, the similarity between Our Town and [amazon_link id=”1602837422″ target=”_blank” ]Under Milk Wood[/amazon_link] by Dylan Thomas, both plays that draw as their subject the life of a town and its inhabitants. Perhaps sometime I’ll discuss this one a bit more as Geither turned me on to it and I found Thomas’ piece equally as compelling as Wilder’s.