Keynote

Here's the keynote from the gathering. Hope this stimulates some thoughts/responses.


It is such an honor to be here with y’all as the National Coordinator of the Network of Ensemble Theaters. Let me start off by first thanking you for entrusting me with this job—it’s a big one. I believe the strategic plan likens the job to herding cats. And even though it’s only been one month, I can honestly say to you that I’ve been loving every minute of it.

Who else but NET can bring together companies that include artists who have formed a touring circus for teenagers, or who dress up as a “toilet matron”—using mops, a janitor’s pail and a “caution when wet” sign to present the “mopera” Carmen, or a group of artists and activists who travel across Interstate 10 gathering the oral histories of those affected by Hurricane Katrina, or who have the audacity and chutzpah to say “we’re going to reform the criminal justice system” or who program a two year cycle of plays that explore the theme of justice in the U.S.? Only NET does this. So yeah, I love my job.

But as tempting as it is to stay in this euphoric state, I am nonetheless reminded, daily, that we’re living and working in a perilous time. I am burdened by the wars our country is waging in Iraq and Afganistan and by increasingly tense rhetoric we hear with regards to Iran and North Korea, while at the same time we continue to turn a blind eye to the genocide in the Darfur region. I am heartbroken by the insanely high foreclosure rates we are seeing right now, as millions of our neighbors are seriously faced with the prospect of homelessness. I am angered that two years after hurricane Katrina, people in the gulf region still have to fight to get regular mail service and that our government has yet to fully step up to the plate to do right by them. And I am dumbfounded that even now, in the year 2007, that there are those who still regard evolution and global warming as mere theories that we can chose to accept or ignore. This is the part of the speech where I wanted a joke—but just couldn’t think of a good one.

So, in light of all of this global and national instability, is it any wonder that the arts sector is in the condition it is. Anecdotally, my friends at theatres across the country tell me they’re scaling back their seasons, producing less and/or presenting smaller shows. Some companies are laying off employees—the robust improvements of 2004 and 2005, declining in 2006. In California, where I am from and where many of are members are based, we’re still recovering from the drastic cut in arts spending of 2004, and I am embarrassed to say we remain last in state spending on the arts.

According to the most recent TCG Fiscal Survey, 2006 saw contributed income from federal, state, county and city agencies decline, as did individual, corporate and giving. And while there was an increase in earned income last year, over the past five years, overall attendance has declined by 8%, even while the number of performances has increased. Add to this the fact that the Durfee Foundation, a long-time friend and supporter of ensemble theaters, will cease theater funding in 2008. We’re still waiting to see what changes are in store at Ford, as their new president comes in. Meanwhile, the NEA continues to prioritize nicely packaged (read: safe) programs such as Shakespeare in American Communities and American Masterpieces at the expense of individual artists and more experimental works that defy classification (such as the work many of you are doing).

In short, and I’m not saying anything you don’t already know, it’s rough out there. And while I’m sure we could spend our time together here swapping war stories and commiserating with one another, my hope for this gathering is that we can take this opportunity to plan an active and successful future-- not devoid of the present reality—but acknowledging that ensemble theatermaking, as a field, has only just recently reached a tipping point where we can tap into our full potential. And while it’s true that I am the eternal optimist, though you’d never guess that from the gloom and doom I just delivered, I am convinced that this is not a naïve vision.

The course we are on in the American theater is not the one laid out by the regional theaters fifty years ago. It is the one we are paving, right now. The field is changing, and you can feel it—it’s palpable. The very notions of community and artmaking have shifted dramatically, even as the nation has shifted from an industrial economy to one that is technology driven. I suspect many of you know of or have read Tom Friedman’s book “The World is Flat.” In it, Friedman quotes an article he read in the magazine, The Nation that said, “The era of top-down politics—where campaigns, institutions and journalism were cloistered communities powered by hard-to-amass capital—is over. Something wilder, more engaging and infinitely more satisfying to individual participants is arising alongside the old order.” He’s talking about politics and economics, but it might as well be the arts. He goes on to say, “everywhere you turn, hierarchies are being challenged from below or transforming themselves from top-down structures into horizontal and collaborative ones.” And if you don’t believe that, just take a look around this room.

A few weeks ago, I was watching the NET promo video that has a clip of Michael Fields from Dell’ Arte sharing a story about a time when ensembles were isolated, not only from each other, but from rest of the theater field as well. At last year’s TCG Conference, an entire session was devoted to ensembles attended by a room full of ensemble company members. In my hometown of Dallas, Texas, there weren’t too many options if you wanted to see a play, (a shock, I know) but one of them was the Undermain Theater. I saw a play there when I was in college that totally rocked my world—it was innovative and risk-taking and sexy and poetic and it was created by an ensemble company. I count myself fortunate to have grown up in time where I had role models for ensemble artmaking; companies like the Mime Troupe and Dell’ Arte, and Teatro Campesino, and Carpetbag and Touchstone, and Bloomsburg Theater Ensemble and Roadside Theater and the many other companies on whose shoulders we stand here.

In this new world in which we now find ourselves, theaters must provide a communion for peoples united and divided not simply by geography, but by heritage, beliefs, daily interests, and, increasingly, class. And in this new society where virtual, on-line communities are just as strong and alive as those defined by neighborhoods, theaters need to adjust, and we can be leaders.

The voice in my head right now is Ben Cameron’s, formerly TCG’s Executive Director. Ben made it a point at every opportunity he had, to remind us that, and I quote: “it’s no longer quality that determines public investment of time, money, and energy (and to this list I add participation). It’s value. Our challenge in the arts community lies in our ability to frame the value of the arts” (and here I would go further, to say, our challenge lies in articulating the value of ensemble-based art making.

But here’s the thing: we can do this. Each one of us here can talk, at length, I’m sure, about why we value ensemble artmaking. When I was interviewing for this job, a board member asked me, “what would you tell funders and people outside of the field is the value of Ensemble Theater?” I’ll tell you what I told them: ensemble theater is where boundaries are being pushed, where innovation is happening, where risk-taking is the base-line of creation. We are the research and development wing of the American Theater. We offer a model of creation that prizes inclusion, democracy, partnership, connection. By working together over a sustained period of time, we learn to understand one another, to listen and even how to disagree with each other. And by doing this, by taking this path, the work we create becomes richer, it is alive and it breathes. And I don’t know about you, but in this time of secrecy and obfuscation, I welcome collaboration and transparency and respect and community.

When I worked with Cornerstone Theater Company in Los Angeles, we created a promotional video. Al of us and we were interviewed and asked, “why do you choose to do this work?” My response was, “I want to change the world.” For the longest time, whenever we’d show the video and it came to the part where I’d say “I want to change the world” I’d conveniently find an excuse to leave the room, or I’d just silently sink into my chair, embarrassed by what seemed to me upon viewings a trite and schmaltzy sentiment spoken by a naïve kid. By the way, I’m happy to report that Cornerstone has a new video so I no longer have to watch myself. But the thing is, I’ve now come to own that statement. I do want to change the world. I do want to create art with everyone. I want desperately for us to reflect the full diversity of the communities in which we live and work. I want to change the world. And if we’re talking about values, that’s a good one, too.

I look at the work that you all are doing, and it’s clear that we share this vision—we may go about it in different ways, but if you look closely it’s there. Some of you go out directly into communities and tackle issues head-on: issues of social justice, of immigration, of the environment, of the racist education and justice systems. Other of you let us to see ourselves on stage, our struggles, our foibles and you allow us to re-examine our world and our place in it. Still others of you give us opportunities to laugh and to commit what is perhaps the most radical and transgressive act anyone can do in this day and age: to be happy and joyous. And many of you are doing all of this at the same time!

Our collective strength is that we do all these things, and that we do them in myriad ways: with puppets, through dance, through linear and non-linear narratives, using music, with our bodies, in English, in Spanish, in Arabic, Urdu and through the lyricism of spoken word and kinetic energy of hip-hop. And our strength, too, is that we do this for an audience as diverse as the country itself. And here’s where I want to make a pitch to y’all—we’ve go to compile this information from all of our members so that we can share it funders and the field, because that’s what makes us our collective a powerful force. These are our assets, the very things that make us an invaluable sector of the art world.

We come here to Camp Winebago (is that not the best name for a camp ever!!) with a lot to be proud of. We had a very successful National Festival in Blue Lake, and we completed and adopted a three-year long-range plan using a planning process reflective of our collaborative values—yet another work model that we can share with the field. But as we go about the business of the next two days, I’d like to invite you to consider this: like a football team huddling before a crucial play, we too are coming together to map out a strategy to go out into the world.

Right now we’re riding the momentum of two successful years’ work and I don’t doubt for one second that we can sustain that momentum. However, if our aim is to advance the field of ensemble theater, if our goal is to grow our membership and strengthen our organization—and I’d say it is, because that’s what’s clearly articulated in our strategic plan—than we cannot merely sustain our momentum, we’ve got to build upon it. Right now, as a result of the great work that’s happened, we have the attention of funders, of presenters and of our colleagues in the theater field. We have a perfect opportunity to reach goals. To quote one of my heroes, Stephen Sondheim, “opportunity is not a lengthy visitor.” (You thought I was gonna say “send in the clowns” didn’t you?)

So what does all this mean? During the planning process for the gathering, we began with our touchstone, the strategic plan, and as Terry pointed out we’re on target with our strategies and we continue to make progress. The next steps, the next areas of focus call on us to fortify our communications strategies, and to develop and exchange our programs with each other and the field. And like the folks who deliver Watch Tower to your door each week as they do in my barrio, the task before us is to go out into the world, and as Ben Cameron said, “communicate our value.” We will do this through our partnerships with sister organizations like Alternate ROOTS, the National Performance Network, Arts Presenters and TCG. We will do this through the regional gatherings we host, which will not only strengthen ties and collaboration among our members, but which will also reach the public at large, providing community members and community partners with opportunities to participate and to inform the art we create. We will do this through our case studies and documentation efforts that will not only record what we are doing but will also dig deeper, to investigate the impulses behind our choices and our actions. And when we do that, we will gain even greater clarity about our roles and opportunities in the world, as art makers. We will grow from these findings and will share them not only within the greater theatre field, but also with our colleagues working in other areas, like community organizing, policy making, and education. We’ll do this by publishing our findings in journals, on websites, and in anthologies and books. Who knows, we may even create a reality TV show about theater and make a fortune.

We will demonstrate our values through our touring initiatives, which will let us reach new and more diverse audiences. And through the 2009 National Ensemble Theater Festival which will culminate the results of all these efforts. This is the vision. This is the plan. As for the nuts and bolts of how we’re going to reach our dreams, that’s where you come in. That’s the work of our time here.

Shortly after I was hired, I placed calls to all of NET’s members and spoke with many of you. What I learned was that there is, across the board, a readiness to move NET forward. And I gotta say, in the short time I’ve been working with NET’s board, I have been blown away by their level of participation. They truly are a working board. The emphasis, here, is on working. But a working Board and a National Coordinator aren’t enough—we need you. In the same way that you’ve structured your ensembles so that your membership shares in the work, responsibilities and rewards, NET also relies on our membership. We will work hard to stay in touch and to invite your participation, but please don’t wait for the phone call. If you have an idea, if you need help—call us, or call your colleagues and enlist their help. If you have something to offer, to share—let your colleagues know. We’re in this together.

I took this job because I see the value and the potential that our work has to change the world. And while it may sound like a cliché, dammit it’s not because I believe it, in my heart, and I have to believe that you do too, or else you wouldn’t be here right now. And if I can inspire you, beseech or bribe you to further this vision with me, then I have no doubt we will change the world.

One last thing, I was talking with Dudley Cocke from Roadside Theater, and he posed the question: What does it mean to be an artist in a time of declared war?” Now, those of you who know me know that I love musicals—what can I say, it’s in the genes. So in this time of war, I offer you the words of Jonathan Larson and the musical Rent. “The opposite of war is not peace, it’s creation.” What does it mean to be an artist in a time of war? For me, it means that we must make art; that we must create, and through creating, we will change the world. That’s why I am hopeful about the future.

Thank you for being here with us, for giving your time, your work, your ideas. The work that each of us does as artists and arts leaders is an act grace. Let us remember that as we set off to the good work that lies before us.

Thank you.