I’ve always preferred the spelling of theatre to theater.  I don’t really remember why, I think it’s because I saw English theatre spelled that way, and that meant it was more genuine than the American spelling.

I came across a fascinating article about the history of these two spellings and wanted to share it with you.

“Consider the Astor Place Riot of 1849. This was the deadliest public disturbance in the United States up to that time. The riot pitted immigrants and other working-class people against powerful upper-class New Yorkers who deployed the city’s police and state militia to enforce order. It was the first time government authorities had ever fired live ammunition into a crowd of citizens in this country. As a direct consequence of this incident, the New York City police force, only four years old at the time and armed with wooden clubs, would become the first police force in the nation to be armed with deadly weapons.

The riot grew from a rivalry between actor Edwin Forrest, the first true star of the stage to be born in this country, and Macready (Cushman’s English mentor). The press enjoyed comparing the two, and Forrest encouraged this by touring to cities where Macready was appearing in order to perform in the same Shakespearean roles.

Fans of Macready and Forrest were largely divided along class lines, with the wealthy preferring the refined and aristocratic English actor and working people enthusiastic for the powerful and emotionally explosive American. Macready openly looked down on Americans, viewing them as vulgar, uncultured, and ignorant. Forrest was frustrated by English domination of the American theater…..

The Astor Place Riot is a watershed moment in the history of American culture. The emotion that escalated into that conflict is still discernable in strong opinions about the spelling of the word “theater.” This was an event that furthered a process of class alienation and segregation. Symptomatic of this was a division of American entertainment into categories of “respectable” and “disreputable” that is parallel to attitudes toward the use of “theatre” and “theater” still today.

The militant preference for the British spelling among some theater practitioners in this country actually originates with this elitist impulse. “Disreputable” was code for immigrant or working class. Professional actors gravitated to “respectable,” “legitimate” “theatres.” This is the same impulse that made the impresarios of vaudeville feel justified in imposing racial segregation at their theaters. This is the same elitist impulse that inspired the community leaders of past eras to establish clubs that were “exclusive.”

While the design and very location of the Astor Place Opera House were intentionally chosen to draw a strict dividing line between social classes, now the owners of theaters and other public accommodations found new ways to make specific classes of people understand that they were not welcome. The decision to use the un-phonetic British spelling of “theater” is a subtle example, intended to send a message that connotes cultural superiority, refinement, and exclusivity.”

You can read the entire article here:

You Write “Theatre,” I Write “Theater” by Anthony Chase in ARTVOICE

When I was in high school, a nuclear slur was calling a girl a “feminist”.  That meant you were probably butch, mean, unattractive, frigid, angry, and humorless.

I was called a feminist on many occaisions – and called myself a feminist. I still consider myself a feminist, (I dont’ get asked if I’m a feminist anymore) but it seems to have become a historical hanger rather than a contemporary identity.

I worked with some wonderful women directors and artistic directors when I was an actor, and felt a kind of kindred spirit with them during those times. 

This article in the New York Times brought back some of the feelings from that long time ago era – when being a feminist was a stigma. 

New York Times article on: Theater Female Directors in New York

I’ve kept this article in my “saved” emails for a few months. I’ve read it several times. And it’s a bracing tonic when the fires of discontent start in.

I’m recovering from a recent bout with pnuemonia, and that changed my idea of “success” for a few days.  A successful day was when I could make it down the hall to fix a cup of tea and go back to bed.  A successful night was when I could stop coughing for a few hours to get some sleep. And the most successful was when the cat stopped trying to smother my face with a pillow to stop my coughing sounds.

Lindsay Price article on success

Late last year I remember blogging about how much I look forward to January, when I am able to start a new play. I finished one yesterday. That isn’t, in itself, remarkable, but what was eye-opening to me was the experience of writing the first fourteen pages of the third act.

To explain, I was intent on writing three stand-alone one-acts that if performed together, could be an evening. I wrote the first act, first as an exercise in regional dialect, and then got serious. I struggled through the second act… I took myself out to dinner a week or so ago and outlined it and the third act, so what I found difficult was writing toward a determined end, and not just free associating.

I wasn’t supposed to write on Friday. I was supposed to take a break and do housework. However, I sat down at lunch, transcribed the bits I’d written on the back of envelopes and scratch paper and before the evening was out, I had fourteen pages.

I’ve never experienced a fourteen page day before. I don’t know what to think about it, except, maybe, those pages needed to be written. I’d elaborate, but I would just be putting words on a feeling that don’t need explaining. It’s enough that I wrote them and I’m glad the laundry could wait.