Recently I was looking through the guidelines for a play contest. Play running 90 minutes. Check.
Actors must play only one character. Ouch. That hurt. One of my aesthetic pleasures of theatre is watching actors play multiple characters. It’s like watching a trapeze artist go from bar to bar. First, he’s a butler, then he’s a doctor, then he’s an undertaker. Watch him hurl himself from one role to another role and another and another.
Okay, so I wouldn’t be entering this contest.
Then, the final requirement for the play was: The play must exist in reality.
Don’t all plays exist in reality? There’s a reality called a stage. It’s the place where actors come out, do stuff and create. That reality could be centuries before now or centuries after now. It could be another country, or it could just be a reality never seen before.
Nowadays I feel that with everything being filmed and videotaped and photographed, we are becoming too literal about reality and losing our collective imagination. What is our reality these days?
Yes, I am not totally naïve. Obviously the theatre company is looking for kitchen sink naturalism.
I recently wrote a kitchen sink play. The kitchen sink spoke. It said some interesting stuff.
And on that note, it’s been a pleasure blogging this week, and I’ll see you all next year.
Jen
Love this. In reality, indeed. It’s all so relative . . .