Theatre Thoughts: Dania Beach reading

The finite scarcity of theatre is one of the reasons why it has such a strong community. Last night I went to a play reading in an art gallery in Dania Beach. The playwright is relatively unknown in these parts (although famous in the UK). The play -RED VELVET- was about 19th century Black American actor Ira Aldridge and his tumultuous career in England and involved long meta-theatre passages of actors rehearsing "Othello" and "King Lear," dealt with racism and tokenism, had nothing to do with 'holiday fun' and yet...there was a sizable audience there for a 2 hrs 30 min play with no intermission.

Theatre is still considered a literary event worth gathering over. Through 6,000 years of human civilization, theatre is a community cornerstone that has not been broken by war, famine, or Netflix. You have to show up and be there with people and then 'imagine.' Whether it's in a black box, a Broadway theatre, or on a street corner, you show up and imagine 'what if' this space were something else. Food was served, there were drinks, and then we all sat down and imagined that we were seeing was 1833 England. The group suspension of disbelief keeps happening again and again. People put on accents that we know aren't real, contort themselves, and we sit there, going in and out of the play: a quiet moment draws us in, a crying baby throws us out, cell phone alarm...out. Sweat and tears pouring off an actor...in. A deeply felt gesture or line unearths some ineffable understanding that is shared amongst the gathering and audiences nod or grunt or gasp or laugh or just lean in like, 'Yes. This. Tell me more. You hit something.' 

Last night it struck me: if aliens came down and looked at us in that space or in all the spaces around the world where theatre is happening every night, 365 days a year for 6,000 years...would they be baffled? Would they ask 'what are you doing? You have tv and streaming. You can be entertained on your phone, laptop, in your car. If the aliens or even our own pets looked at us and asked "why are you here risking your health and wasting away your time...on listening to people recite an old play about an unfamiliar time with no lights or costumes? What are you getting out of this that you could not get out of the million forms of amusement on your phone or laptop" could our only true answer be that there is something about the group agreement to deconfigure reality and imagine something else based upon the written word...that is vital. There is something about being here and now in this present moment that is essential to my humanity.