A Kenyan theatre critic? A Turkana miner pans for gold.
“At the end of 2010, Melbourne theatre is in a golden age,” writes Cameron Woodhead, echoing the sentiments of his Melbourne colleague Alison Croggon: “It’s no exaggeration to claim that there has been a revolution in local theatre over the past five years. … For once, vital theatre is where it belongs, in the limelight. Theatre has even become hip.” As Melbourne, so England: “Female British actors of a certain age — oh, let’s not be coy, say, above 50 — really are enjoying a golden era,” said Vanessa Thorpe in the Guardian recently, and indeed why shouldn’t they be, when Lyn Gardner has been asking whether “this is a golden age for theatre”? (Mark Lawson, a few days before Gardner, asked the same question in the same publication; the Guardian‘s Michael Billington, curbing his enthusiasm, would prefer to call it a “silver age.”) And why not America? “Welcome to NYC’s Hidden Golden Age of Theater,” trumpeted the headline on a Michael Feingold essay in October.
In his essay, Feingold provides an interesting quote from Barbara Cook: “They tell me now I was living in a Golden Age. I didn’t know I was living in a Golden Age. … Do you think we’re living in one now?” Which ultimately begs the question as to whether a self-proclaimed “golden age” of theatre is anything of the sort. Most of the critics I mention above are for the most part reviewers rather than critics; although many of them do maintain a broader perspective, one wonders whether or not the sheer number of performances they see in any given year is affecting their critical acumen.
Perhaps one of the characteristics of a Golden Age, as Cook suggests, is that nobody knows that they’re living in one — which would, by definition, undermine any contemporary claims to resembling the qualities of that precious metal. Kenneth Tynan, whom many would consider a great critic, said: “A good drama critic is one who perceives what is happening in the theatre of his time. A great drama critic also perceives what is not happening.” And there is a good deal indeed that is not happening. While performance is enjoying a renaissance, text-based theatre appears to be in a crisis; indeed, we seem so desperate for “great plays” that we often get ten or a dozen in a row according to the critics, defying the traditional bell curve of criticism — there are a very few excellent plays and a very few terrible plays; most of them fall somewhere in between; good, perhaps, but not great, and certainly not golden. Many fine dramatists continue to go unperformed. (Indeed, many of them have told me personally that, golden age or not, there is no place in today’s theatre for their work — it is a gold that is homogenous in its style and project.) And more broadly, drama that extends the use of heightened, lyrical language in the contemporary theatre is nearly non-existent on the stage.
I go to the theatre very little now, mostly because of circumstance but also because of choice. Unlike the critics above, I am more frequently disappointed than enlivened by what I see, and my appetite is not whetted to see more. There is no way of course that I can see all of the shows they have; perhaps they are right and I am wrong. But I will say that defining a “golden age” of theatre, of drama, of acting, of what have you, implies that this is a golden age of theatre criticism as well — and the critics themselves shine in the golden spotlight, golden for so perspicaciously recognizing the age as such. If I could make myself a golden writer just by saying that I am one, I’d be a lucky man indeed.
G’day George. I would’ve said Pyrite Age but that doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. I’m not sure a golden age of theatre implies a golden age of criticism. The instant history business is fraught, and there may be something in your remark that the volume of theatre we see affects our judgement. In Melbourne, we had a hectic final three months or so in 2010, seeing crazy amounts of theatre, most of it superior. When that happens, it tends to skew the bigger picture.
Still, there’s been a marked improvement in the calibre of theatrical art in our city. Is it really a golden age, really? I’m reminded of Zhou Enlai’s remark when he was asked about the impact of the French Revolution on world history: he said it was too soon to say.
Hiya Cameron. Thanks for responding to the post.
I’ve got no reason to believe that Melbourne (or London, or New York) theatre hasn’t become more energetic or vibrant over the past few years; the critics I cite think so, anyway, and I should say that none of them thinks that this is a perfect world. On the other hand, to use rhetoric like “golden age,” especially when one is in the thick of it, may be a bit too much of a muchness. Sure, there’s a lot more theatre, but the law of averages dictates that there’s a lot more bad theatre too, and that’s in addition to recognizing that there are some kinds of theatre and drama that simply aren’t being recognized or done.
To characterize one’s own age as “golden” is to stumble dangerously close to the line that separates assessment and advocacy from hype and cheerleading. Given the fraught and co-dependent dynamics between production company, artist and critic, I should hope that critics would lean more towards the former and repudiate, as much as they can, the latter.
And Zhou Enlai on revolution? I’d expect no different response, given he was a revolutionary himself. I’m not sure that Buchner’s Danton would agree …
The law of averages? What a crapulous, intellectually feeble idea. No, no – even if the outcome of any theatrical event were truly random (which it isn’t) you’d need a very large sample indeed for such variables to express something approximating their theoretical likelihood. If there’s a law, it’s that some years are better than others, and you have to call it as you see it.
That said, talk of golden ages and such should probably be left to the historians. I did train as one, and perhaps I’ll eschew such flamboyant epithets if or when I eventually write some theatrical history.
Oh, and I’m sure there’d be more than a few Melbourne theatre luvvies gagging over their Weetbix to hear me described as a cheerleader!
I think I’ll leave that bait to dangle at the end of its line, Cameron. No, thanks.
Come to Melbourne, George! Seriously. What’s happened here is that the benchmark of what is expected from theatre has in general risen several notches, and we’re in a little bubble where those expectations are often able to be realised. Melbourne is small enough for this to happen, the theatre scene is much less fragmented and more outward-looking than it was 20 years ago, and a number of happy circumstances have conspired for the art to flourish. The GFC didn’t hit here (it might later, when we run out of coal to feed the Chinese factories) and together with the other influences I described, we have a bubble of time in which seriously interesting things have occurred. Yes, of course there’s disappointing work, but less than one might expect.
Fwiw, I’ve often remarked that the weakest part of Australian theatre has been the writing culture, but I think that’s been shifting too. Partly because, I suspect, young companies commonly are cutting their teeth on investigations of classic texts; also because some good local writing is being produced. Even Daniel Keene, whom as you know has barely been performed here for a decade.
Cameron, I’d think twice before accusing George of intellectual feebleness. And, please, not “theatre luvvies”. If there’s a phrase I loathe for its mischaracterisation and trivialisation of an entire profession, it’s that one.
The real problem with golden ages (not a “flamboyant epithet” – “cliche” is the word you’re looking for) is that they always decline. They settle into the glorious past and there are used as mallets to thump the not-good-enough present. We’ll see. In a decade or so the view will certainly be clearer. But even in the middle of it, you’d be a fool not to recognise that something exciting is happening.
The last time there was anything like a similar exertion of theatrical activity here was in the late 1950s and 1960s, when the Off-Broadway and Off-Off-Broadway movements got underway, and ran and ran; from Sheridan Square to Cafe Cino, there was an enormous expense of theatrical energy, and much came of it, not unlike the Open Space and the Royal Court in London.
But, like all bubbles, that burst too. There’s something nostalgic about it (unlike Melbourne’s current situation, I think; was there anything like a “Golden Age of Melbourne Theatre” in the past?), and I am concerned that there’s not a little hype to much of the enthusiasm. As I say, I can’t be in Melbourne and will take your word for it that “something exciting” is happening. But what? As you say, in a decade or so the view will be clearer.
There was a huge idealistic burst of activity in the late 60s and 70s in Melbourne and Sydney (in part stimulated by what was happening in New York and London) which still remains to be properly written about. The writing that happened then has been well covered, but equally important was the rise of Australian physical theatre, most clearly seen in Circus Oz. There was a thread of internationalism too – the Pram Factory saw some of the English language premieres of Peter Handke, for instance – and feminist theatre, etc. But all that was very fraught and is very beset by the mythmakers (one of the reasons why the histories have taken so long to be written, although various memoirs have come out in the past decade, as was not the case when I was first writing about theatre.)
There’s one excellent and illuminating history, Julian Meyrick’s book on the Sydney Nimrod, “See How They Run”, and there are collections of contemporary reviews, but most so far are rather lacklustre. (One hopes that doesn’t happen to this current bunch.) Much came of that burst of energy too, including many of the institutions – the VCA, the Malthouse (formerly the Playbox), Sydney’s Belvoir St etc – which ultimately have fostered the present energies. Not so much cyclical in this case, as spiralling, I think. Whether they know it or not, this generation of artists is definitely building on the achievements of the past.
Australian theatre has always suffered from the tyranny of distance and a concomitant parochialism. This is probably why the generation of Kosky/Kantor/Andrews has been so important, reorienting the culture towards Europe and away from a purely Anglocentric view of theatre. Hardly a done deal – both Kosky and Andrews are directing more in Europe at the moment. But that Anglo-European tension has certainly made for rich possibilities. And there’s the whole Asian possibility too, though that still – ridiculously, given where we are – remains subtextual in the culture. I think all these energies have a while to run yet. Though, of course, I could be wrong.
A friend of mine urged me to read Fool’s Gold and Condemned to Repeat the Past. I did so, thanked him for the heads up and responded. Here is the response (incidentally I work in theatre in Ireland)
A fine article from Hunka on how the same continues to change – or is it how we keep changing to the same. The economics of production here have thrown into relief – in my opinion – one of the great challanges to theatrical practice. The obsession of the funding mandarins with the “new” and the “innovative”, and their influence over “emerging” artists, has led to a practice where work is created solely for the mandarins and succeeds in alienating audiences. formal innovation and originality become ends in themselves. This is a mistake. Ann Bogart has that wonderful notion of tending to the audience. Change and innovation need to be done for the benefit of the audience most especially in theatre. A book or a film or a painting can be read or experienced a century from now and we can relish it then. But a performance exists now. The most radical theatrical expression needs to engage the audience now or become a tree falling in a forest. Couple this with the contemporary indifference to history and we get the recycled masquerading as the new. If only it were a plundering of the past for innovation but its mostly an endless reinvention of the wheel. A self congratualatory conversation in which it is impolite to point to the already outdated chariot in the driveway.
Thank you for your comment, John. I am wary of broad appeals to an “audience,” which assumes both some kind of collective consciousness that exists especially for any given performance, as well as aesthetic innovations seen as “benefiting” that audience, which can come awfully close to claiming some kind of instrumental social and cultural use for theatre, though I don’t believe this is exactly what you had in mind. Those caveats aside, well said.