Timberlane High Performing Arts Center

I have just returned from a trip to Plaistow, New Hampshire, where I went to support students, parents, alumni and members of the community who wanted to speak out against the cancelation of a production of Sweeney Todd at Timberlane High School, announced for production a year ago, but scheduled for 2015. In the wake of the response to the cancelation, the school scheduled an open forum to hear from the community on the issue. This was an important and rare step, since each and every decision of school administrators cannot possibly be opened to organized public discussion, with the media present as well.

But in creating the opportunity, the administrators of Timberlane opened the door to two-and-a-half hours of speaker after speaker extolling the caliber of the show, the importance of theatre in their lives, and how deeply connected they are to the school’s arts program.  Despite the opportunity, no one spoke up against the show. Even though some apparently made their feelings known privately to the administration, or in letters to local papers and on blogs, none would stand to say so in front of their peers in a public setting.

Because I don’t like to give speeches except when I’m invited to do so, I spoke at the session off the cuff, based on what I’d learned about the issue and the community in the days and hours leading up to the event in the high school cafeteria, attempting to address concerns specific to Timberlane. I want to share my remarks with you, with all of the imperfections of impromptu speech. I hope I spoke some sense and maybe even some truth.

The superintendent indicated he would render his decision very shortly, and as I write, a community awaits, as do I.

*   *   *

Into the woods – you have to grope
But that’s the way you learn to cope
Into the woods to find there’s hope
Of getting through the journey.
Into the woods, each time you go
There’s more to learn of what you know…

Those are the words of Stephen Sondheim. Stephen Sondheim is the greatest composer of musical theatre in the past 50 years and possibly in the history of the American musical theatre. His work deserves to be seen and while his work has never been known to as somebody to easily please audiences, the challenge that he presents to every audience is a special challenge for students.

I’ve come up from New York to represent to you that there are people far beyond this community who care about each and every student who wants a great experience in the arts. I don’t do it because I believe that every student in every drama club will go on and become a professional artist. Indeed, I suspect most of them won’t. I come here because I want better audiences for the arts and by being involved in the most challenging work at this stage in their lives, those who take part in his work, those who see this work, become better audiences so that we can have better arts.

You have an extraordinary performing arts center – I’m still in awe of that turntable, I’ve never seen anything like it – and with a facility like that you should be able to use it to its fullest.

No, you can’t please everyone all of the time. I’m amazed to find the number of performances that you have here. In the case of this show, it will not please everyone, it never has. But it is a masterwork of musical theatre. The original cast recording was just announced to be inducted into the Library of Congress today.

People like to focus on the more lurid aspects of Sweeney Todd. But Sweeney Todd is not about its actions; Sweeney Todd is about morality, about justice, about the lengths people will go to and the lengths they’re driven to when they face injustice.

No, I would not bring a seven year old to Sweeney Todd. But I believe and I am told that there are many other opportunities in this community for people of all ages at different times to have different experiences. This is not – and I do know this script, I know this script particularly well – that you are not proposing to do the original script. Stephen Sondheim has authorized a school edition of Sweeney Todd which removes some of the material which would be difficult for high schools to endorse or for students to perform. It’s not neutered but it is toned down. Countless high schools do this show every year across the country. The students here should be able to have the opportunities that their peers, who they will be facing when they go on to college, had at their schools.

There are many stories of school shows which are canceled at the last minute. This is by no means the case – you have a year. You have a year to place the show in context, to inform not just in the students in the drama club, but all of the students, all of the parents, all of this community, through a range of educational activities that can be put into place. Other schools have done it. I pledge myself as a resource to help you find what’s been done elsewhere, what’s been successful and even people who can come in and help with those programs. Nobody would walk into this show and be surprised by what is happening. Frankly, given what has surrounded this in the past week, I think we’re past that.

Fundamentally, I believe student theatre is first and foremost for the students who make it and then if there is there is the opportunity for people beyond their family members to come and see it, that’s fantastic. But the experience is for the students. That’s what school is for.

I truly hope that a year from now, I will be driving back up from the city to see Sweeney Todd.

Stephen Sondheim is a vastly smarter man than I am, so I will finish again with his words.

Careful with what you say,

Children will listen.
Careful you do it too.
Children will see.
And learn.
Guide them but step away,
And children will glisten.
Tamper with what is true,
And children will turn,
If just to be free.
The more you protect them,
The more they reject you.
The more you reflect them,
The more they respect you.

Thank you very much.

*   *   *

Update, April 10: I am delighted to report that late this afternoon, Dr. Earl Metzler of the Timberlane School District reversed the decision to cancel Sweeney Todd and the show is now back on the Timberlane High schedule for 2015. The decision came about thanks to the respectful yet passionate efforts of the students and parents of Timberlane and members of the greater Plaistow community. I look forward to seeing them once again, and my favorite musical, a year from now.

Sweeney Todd at Timberland High in Plaistow NH seems to have a lot in common with the threatened but ultimately triumphant production of Rent this past weekend in Trumbull CT. A musical is announced months in advance and, after some time has passed, the administration, citing both a failure to follow a previously unknown approvals process and concerns over inappropriate content, cancels the production. In Trumbull, it was just weeks before auditions were to begin; in Plaistow it’s over a show in the next school year.

If you look beyond the decision itself, politics at the school board level, in each case, seem to coincide with the dispute. In Trumbull, the school board suddenly ruled that only town residents would be permitted to speak at meetings, for the first time; in Plaistow, there was a declaration, currently being challenged on constitutional grounds, that once a decision is made by the school board, all members have to support it publicly.

A mature-themed school musical is once again at the center of a local controversy, but the pattern is a national one. While I urge you to read about the Plaistow situation in its entirety, as well as a sharply worded local editorial about the free speech issues regarding the school board, here’s the gist of what’s transpired, as reported by Alex Lippa of the Eagle-Tribune.

Timberlane Regional High School officials have canceled next year’s production of the musical “Sweeney Todd,” citing concerns over the nature of the script.

“I want an all-inclusive performance that the community can enjoy,” Superintendent Earl Metzler said yesterday. “We were uncomfortable with the script and agreed that this was not the right time or place for the performance.”

“Sweeney Todd” tells the story of a barber who murders his victims. His landlady then bakes them into pies and sells them.

The decision has caused a stir in the Timberlane community and efforts are being made through social media to convince the administration to reverse the decision.

“In the past, we have done shows with a wide range of difficult material and none of them have ever been opposed until now,” Timberlane senior Alexis Bolduc said. “And the only people who seem to disapprove of this show are the ones in charge.”

I have made the argument that high school theatre should be, first and foremost, for the students. I have made the argument that school theatre should challenge students so they can grow and learn. There’s little point in recounting those.

However it does appear that Dr. Metzler, the superintendent, is giving some manner of weight to missives he’s begun receiving from outside the community, triggered by social media and websites carrying the Timberlane tale of Sweeney Todd to the larger world. That’s where you come in.

If you are a student, parent, teacher or administrator who has had the experience of Sweeney Todd at your high school, recently or in past years, take a moment to write the Timberlane leadership and tell them about how the show was received and what it meant. If you are a theatre professional who cares about our next generation of theatre artists and the next generation of audiences, write and tell them why you think students should – perhaps even must ­– take on work like Sweeney Todd. If you are an audience member, a theatre aficionado, who believes in the value of Sweeney Todd, write about that and why students should be able to explore it in the Sondheim-approved, judiciously pruned school edition. Let’s demonstrate the level of commitment that exists among those who believe in the arts, and that we care not only what happens in the big cities, but in each and every community where theatre and the arts as a whole can be nurtured, not just in your own backyard.

The auditorium of Timberlane High

Worth keeping in mind? Timberlane has already done The Laramie Project. Twice. That says something about the people in the Timberlane district, although there have been some subsequent leadership changes and the show was confined to the smaller studio space on the Timberlane campus. Let me also note that Dr. Metzler will be leading an open conversation with the community this coming Wednesday, April 2, so an iron wall has not necessarily gone up, despite the announced cancelation. The distinct possibility for constructive dialogue remains, so I urge you to refrain from sarcasm, from rash generalizations, from anger, and instead focus on your stories, your experiences, your thoughts and how they can apply to the students in Plaistow.

Let’s operate under the genuine assumption that everyone wants the best for the students and just have differing perceptions of what that is. I’ve been strident in some of my past writing, but the Trumbull students proved you get more with judicious diplomacy than with unbridled passion, valuable as that can be at certain times.

You can share your thoughts and experiences with:

Dr. Earl Metzler, Superintendent, Timberlane Regional School District, 30 Greenough Road, Plaistow NH 03865

Mr. Donald Woodworth, Principal, Timberlane Regional High School, 36 Greenough Road, Plaistow, NH 03865

And while you’re at it, would you copy me as well?  I’m driving to New Hampshire on Wednesday and I’d like to be able to print out and share a sheaf of thoughtful, supportive and constructive messages with those those in attendance at the forum.

Sweeney Todd is, at its core, about how insidious miscarriages of justice can be in a society, driving some to heinous acts in retaliation – ultimately for nought. That’s a valuable lesson, especially when told by an artist as skilled and respected as Stephen Sondheim. Let’s hope it can still be sung at Timberlane High next school year.

Philadelphia, Here I Come! at Asolo Repertory Theatre

Asolo Repertory Theatre in Sarasota, Florida is back in rehearsal with their production of Brian Friel’s Philadelphia, Here I Come!, to restore the script as the fine Irish dramatist wrote it. Their production, which should have been in performance now, had eliminated characters and removed intermissions, among other “improvements.” Frankly, they’re lucky to even have a second shot at it. They could have lost the rights to the show altogether.

Jay Handelman in the Herald Tribune reported on the situation and reading his article in full, it comes clear that this isn’t some isolated incident for the Asolo.

[Producing Artistic Director Michael Donald] Edwards said Friel’s agent heard about the changes and was most concerned about the removal of the intermissions. “We asked if they would come down and see what Frank had done, which we thought was beautiful, but they decided not to.”

The theater has experimented with new approaches to older plays with some success in the past. Two years ago, for example, the theater played around with Leah Napolin’s play “Yentl,” keeping most of the script but adding in original songs by composer Jill Sobule, performed by actors doubling as musicians on stage.

Napolin had a “heads-up about what we were doing,” Edwards said. “But she didn’t know all of what we were doing. We got her down here and she could have said I don’t like this, but fortunately she loved it. She told me, ‘You have rescued my play’.”

If director Gordon Greenberg had gone to Napolin with every idea for changes or additions that came up during rehearsals “it would have killed the creative process. It would have made it a two-year process,” Edwards said.

Mr. Edwards appears to have a fundamental lack of understanding of (or respect for) the rights of authors and their estates. Copyright law and the licensing agreements signed by his theatre prevent him or any director working at his theatre from performing surgery on texts to suit the company’s own needs or interpretations. Why, Mr. Edwards, do you portray their spurning of your invitation as vaguely obstinate, when you’ve broken your word and the law? While some authors may allow leeway, it’s their prerogative, not the theatre’s, to do so. The fact that Leah Napolin was happy with Asolo’s alterations on her Yentl was a lucky break, but to take it as affirmation or precedent for this practice isn’t only foolhardy, it’s just plain wrong. [Please see clarifying update on Yentl at the end of this post.] I must confess, in the Philadelphia situation, I’m surprised by the actions of veteran director Frank Galati as well, though I should allow for the possibility that he was told approval had been given. On a related note: Wall Street Journal critic Terry Teachout was to have reviewed the Friel play, but was informed that performances were canceled – the Asolo never explained why.

Some might shrug the practices of Asolo as the anomalous act of a single theatre, but it’s only the most prominent recent example of a practice that, for obvious reasons, tries to fly under the radar. Last month, in writing about the efforts of a Long Island high school to perform a sex change on the character of Angel in Rent, I received numerous comments and e-mails telling me that this sort of manipulation happens all the time at not only at high schools but at colleges as well.  One correspondent, who teaches arts management at the university level, reported that the directing program at their school encourages directors to rework texts to make them their own, flouting licensing agreements for work that is given public performances.  While this is kosher for classic works out of copyright, it’s stunning to me that educational institutions are actively advocating such actions on copyrighted work. As a classroom experiment, it’s acceptable for learning purposes, but as soon as an audience walks in, this approach must go right out the window. Students must be taught the difference.

I know of many people who feel that copyrights extend for too long, not just during creators’ lifetimes but long past them, believing works should become available for free revision and reinterpretation much sooner than currently allowed. While I am all for creative reinterpretations of texts, that’s a separate legal discussion. But so long as copyright stands, it is not a matter for selective adherence, and that’s not simply my opinion, it’s a legal compact. Theatre is not the movies, where authors do not own their work and it can be altered and reworked by any number of writers to suit the needs or whims of a studio, a director or a marketing team.

When a situation arises like the one at Southold High, it’s hard not to draw a direct line to the example at the Asolo – after all, if professionals alter scripts without approval, it must be OK, right? If the practice is being encouraged at the college level, why wouldn’t it be filtering into both professional and amateur work? Many resent the restrictive vigilance of estates such as Samuel Beckett’s, and as a manager I once had to counsel an artistic director to veto a Godot design which would have likely drawn the ire of the estate had they become aware of it. Yes, I would have loved to see that jettisoned concept as a theatregoer, but as a manager, I wouldn’t support violating an agreement I’d signed, in addition to taking the risk that we might be found out, putting the organization in financial extremes. “Oh, who will know?” is neither a legal nor ethical defense.

It’s quite impossible to know how prevalent this is, because the vast majority of theatre in the U.S. isn’t scrutinized by authors or their representatives. It is simply impossible to do. So when cases come to light, they are largely because some astute audience member recognizes the manipulation and takes the initiative to contact the appropriate representatives, if they know how. Another way these incidents are revealed are likely when some member of the production recognizes that alteration is under way, and they choose to inform the right people, forcing them to become “informers” on their own employers. And, of course, critics may notice discrepancies with work they’ve seen or read before, and their reportage may bring alterations to the attention of authors and their representatives.

I can’t understand why some artists feel they have the right to unilaterally alter dramatic texts, especially when so many superb reinventions are done with the full cooperation of authors and estates; that said, I fully expect some of those who advocate for this right to take issue with my position as stated here. Although I feel as if I’ve heard it over and over again for decades, it seems that for so many, a basic thesis of the theatre isn’t being said and understood enough: theatre is first and foremost an author’s medium. If you can’t respect that, write the play you want to see instead – or go make movies.

Note: I serve on the advisory committee of Samuel French Inc., the company which licenses the work of Brian Friel. I have not consulted with anyone at French about the situation at the Asolo or this essay at any time.

Update 2:45 pm 1/22: Because, as I often do, I wrote and posted in haste, I neglected to include critics as a resource for bringing unauthorized alterations to light. When this was pointed out in the comment section below, I added a sentence to the penultimate paragraph to recognize their essential role.

Update 9:45 am 1/23: Gordon Greenberg, director of the Asolo production of Yentl, has written to advise me that he and the theatre had the author’s approval to interpolate Jill Sobule’s songs and make minor text changes to accommodate them. Additionally, Greenberg’s revised production of Working was done in collaboration with Stephen Schwartz. 

Update 5:45 pm 1/24: This post has prompted extensive response, in the comments here, as well as on my Facebook page and via Twitter. A number of people have taken exception to my statement that “theatre is first and foremost an author’s medium.” On reflection, the statement was too sweeping, and has apparently suggested to some a lack of respect on my part for directors, actors and the range of artists who collaborate to put a play on stage and are so essential in collectively exploring and realizing a playwright’s vision; that’s far from the truth. I also wrote from my experience, as I would hope is always evident in my writing, and respecting the author’s intent and rights is something I’ve been taught by theatre artists – not just authors – throughout my career and it is a point of view I embrace. That said, the majority of my theatergoing is American drama first and English writing second; the majority of productions I’ve seen were created in the U.S. regardless of authorship. I understand that in some countries and with some companies, a script may only be a framework that is elaborated upon in many different ways, and while that runs contrary to the majority of my theatergoing experiences, it was not my intention to denigrate it, provided the author is fully aware of the manner of production and agrees to it, according to their legal rights. For classical works where copyright has expired or never existed, I enthusiastically support artists’ free rein to rework and alter the text as they see fit. There are many ways to make theatre and my respect for every artist and their practice and tradition is unstinting. I regret my generalization, but in transparency, I leave it intact above, lest I be accused of rewriting myself surreptitiously. 

The rise of internet culture has caused many shifts in how we consume information, with one of the more amusing side benefits being the rise of the fictional Twitter user. Disregarding spambots, the anonymity that comes so easily online has birthed such figures as @BronxZoosCobra and @ElBloombito, to name but two. In the theatre realm, the sunny cheerleading of @BroadwayGirlNYC has found adherents, but the sharper tongues (or typing) of @WestEndProducer and @Actor_Friend have launched them into real world publishing, within weeks of each other.

For those who haven’t been following them, a quick précis. West End Producer is, ostensibly, an individual on the production side of theatre in England, whose dishy asides about every aspect of the business always conclude with the simultaneously charming and condescending #dear. I have struck up a Twitter acquaintance with this person, we’ve shared a few jokes and they sent me a signed copy of their book. I’ve noticed their unwavering dedication to chronicling TV talent competitions as they air on weekend evenings (which can be bewildering, since the shows don’t play in the US) and just learned of a mutual passion for Sherlock, but this TV fixation doesn’t suggest someone at the country homes of those with bold faced names on the weekend. I’m newer to Actor Friend, whose full nom de tweet is Annoying Actor Friend, but the online persona is that of a snarky actor, seemingly more of a dedicated gypsy than an above-the-title star. While I won’t guess at gender (though WEP’s appearances in a latex mask disguise would indicate male, and in a  book blurb, one writer suggests AF is female), I’d hazard that AF is in their 20s while WEP is likely 30ish (or more).

In their books Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Acting But Were Afraid To Ask, Dear (Nick Hern Books, £10.99) and #SoBlessed: The Annoying Actor Friend’s Guide To Werking in Show Business (CreateSpace, $13.99), WEP and AF dispense pearls of wisdom in their trademark styles, freed from the chains of 140 characters at a time.  Early in each book, one gets the full force of their characters:

“Casting Directors are usually very nice people who like drinking far too much alcohol, and mostly during the day. The ones that don’t drink usually have other habits, which can’t be discussed here – but often end in them being discovered on a bench outside Waterloo Station at 5 a.m.”  – West End Producer

“Even after you’ve questionably noted your music, nervously mumbled some directions, and shakily clapped out a tempo, there will be an accompanist who has no effing clue how to play your Jason Robert Brown song. Seriously though – whenever I don’t get a callback, I usually find a way to blame the accompanist. It doesn’t matter if they played my audition flawlessly. It’s still their fault.”  – Annoying Actor Friend

“A serious actor has to approach acting in a serious way. This can be achieved by using various methods. One of the easiest ways is by not smiling – particularly if you don’t have good teeth. A serious actor should always save his smile for special occasions. However, this does not mean you can’t smirk. Smirking and smiling are two very different things indeed.”  – West End Producer

“As a performer, Annoying Actor Internet Law requires you to read anonymous online opinions about you, take them personally, and then complain about how all those people on theatre message boards are stupid, even though their comments are secretly murdering you from the inside out.”  – Annoying Actor Friend

Now you might imagine that an entire book of this arch tone would grow tiresome, let alone two, and I’d readily agree with you. That’s where both of these books turn out to be surprises. #SoBlessed, while the thinner of the pair, both literally and figuratively, pretty much drops all pretense of a character in one of its longer chapters, “On The Road,” which deals with touring. Offering a pointed critique of touring conditions and contracts, AF gets into some detail about the challenges of an actor’s life on tour. AF’s advocacy regarding compensation has taken on even greater urgency among some members of Actors Equity, with the full Twitter support and perhaps instigation of AF, has raised a stir about the pay structure of touring agreements over the holidays.

Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Acting is more comprehensive than its title suggests, ranging over many fields in the theatre, including producing itself. While the occasional Britishism may befuddle the less worldly reader, the advice dispensed among the punchlines is in fact utterly practical, simply delivered in a tone unlikely to be heard in classrooms at Yale or the Tisch School. “When you audition,” observes WEP, “there’s always a moment when you’re perfect for the role. It’s the moment before you come through the door.” WEP also wraps up the book by enumerating concerns that face the theatre, going beyond flippant remarks about Andrew Lloyd Webber to touch upon rising ticket prices, competition from the electronic media and the need for everyone in theatre “to be braver.”

They may have found their fame in the briefest of missives and gained followings with their dark and knowing wit, but in the end West End Producer and Annoying Actor Friend are both passionately dedicated to the theatre, doling out genuine wisdom and information with nearly every wisecrack. If one is on a budget and has to choose between the books, I give the edge to WEP, even though those in the US have to wait for its release here in the spring via TCG (it seemed to be a favored holiday gift in the UK, judging by my Twitter feed). But both make for irreverent supplements to more staid but perhaps equally inspiring books in theatre. And they are not annoying. Not annoying at all, dear.

Last weekend in Connecticut, Trumbull High School’s Thespian Society presented their fall play. On Monday afternoon, instead of a scheduled informational session for those planning to audition for the spring musical, Rent (the school edition), a full meeting of the Thespian Society was called. At that meeting, the school’s principal informed the students that Rent was cancelled.

Trumbull High School

Describing the meeting, Trumbull High Thespian Society president Larissa Mark said, “There were a lot of tears from the kids because Rent is so precious to so many of us.” As to how the principal explained his decision, Mark said, “I can’t say I know the reason, because it’s still unclear to so many of us.”

Now at this point, you might imagine this is going to be another story about an authoritarian, puritanical school administration squashing the dreams of helpless students. And that’s where you’d be wrong.

On Monday evening, after completing other commitments, Mark got organized and began to organize her peers. Having seen a raft of comments on social media while she was otherwise engaged, many carrying the phrase “Rentbellion,” she recommended a more measured tone. “I didn’t think ‘Rentbellion’ was going to help our case. We had to create an organized response. I said that students should speak with their parents about this and not act brashly.

“On Tuesday morning, “ Mark continued, “I helped organize a bunch of students with petitions to go around. In the course of two days, we collected 1,516 signatures, which is about two-thirds of our school. On Wednesday, I handed [the principal] the original copies of the signature sheets and surveys we’d done to the Trumbull community. We had asked whether people would support Rent and gave them a chance to make comments. We got over 400 responses and an almost overwhelming number of yesses.”

Mark also created a “Trumbull for Rent” Facebook page (which has over 4000 likes as I write), wrote a letter to the local Patch site (where another student was quoted anonymously), was interviewed by the Trumbull Times and Connecticut magazine and, by Wednesday evening (the night before Thanksgiving, mind you), had spoken with the local ABC and CBS affiliates. This is an impressive campaign even by professional standards, all marshaled by a 17 year old high school senior.

To the students, everything happened suddenly on Monday, but in fact there had been behind the scenes discussions going on since late October. Jessica Spillane, a 17-year-veteran of the high school, the English Department Chair, and English and drama teacher and director of the Thespian troupe and the spring musical, said her first conversation with principal Marc Guarino had occurred, spontaneously, on October 23, when they happened to run into one another. By Spillane’s account, Guarino said, “I just heard yesterday that we were doing Rent as the musical. Did we ever talk about this?” Spillane said she replied, “I don’t know but we announced in August. It’s been on our website since then. It had been announced through daily announcements for two weeks at the beginning of the school year. I said that it’s the school edition.” She said the selection of shows has always been autonomous, not requiring prior approval.

“Should I be worried?” Guarino asked, according to Spillane. She replied, “Absolutely not. We’ve got nothing but support. If there are any questions, I’ll handle them.” Spillane says that two weeks later, Guarino met with her to say that the plans to do Rent were “on hold.” Spillane provided him with the script, her conceptual plans for the production, and information on productions at other area high schools, including Amity Regional in Woodbridge and Greenwich High School, as well as the Fairfield Teen Theatre. She also gave him many of the books she had been using as research.

Subsequently, Guarino told Spillane that he had met with his assistant principals and the president of the Parent-Student-Teacher Association. He said he needed to speak with the superintendent. On November 20, Guarino told Spillane he could not support going forward with the production. In an appeal to the superintendent, Spillane was informed that he was backing the principal’s decision. Spillane made the decision to delay informing the students until after the fall play finished over the weekend.

Did Spillane inspire Mark’s campaign? “I told the kids that we [referring to herself and other Thespian advisors] needed to take a step back and not be seen as puppetmasters. The kids said ‘if we’re going to be heard, we need to be rational, respectful, organized and articulate’.”

So where does this all stand?

The first two days of Mark’s campaign resulted in Principal Guarino informing Spillane that he was reconsidering his decision and that he would be speaking with the superintendent when school resumes Monday. Yesterday, Mark said, “We just want to keep people as active as possible because we don’t want to lose any steam over the weekend.”

Now it’s worth noting that Principal Guarino is new at Trumbull High this year. It’s also important to note that he’s not been issuing edicts from on high – after informing the students of the cancellation, he remained with them for an hour to talk about his choice. He is obviously not trying to make this adversarial, and is open to further discussion. No doubt the tone set by the students played a role in this, along with their effective outreach.

I am reminded of a situation in nearby Waterbury a few years ago, when a canceled production of Joe Turner’s Come And Gone was reversed thanks to passionate students and the support of the Yale Repertory Theatre, which helped create educational sessions for students and the community to address the play’s use of “the n-word” multiple times, to place its more difficult themes in a proper educational context. Now the time has come for everyone who loves theatre to lend their voices to the students’ efforts, but with the respect and level-headedness that the students have employed. If you love theatre, like the Trumbull For Rent Facebook page. If you have deep feelings about Rent and its value for students and what it may have meant in your life, share them with Principal Guarino at Mguarino@trumbullps.org. If you are a theatre professional and you are able, offer to go to Trumbull High School and lead workshops for the students and the community. This posting is my offer of that support.  But heed the wisdom of Larissa Mark and act with respect.

“I think the main reason why Rent is so important is that homosexuality, drug use and disease are not ‘issues’ in the twenty-first century,” Mark told me, fittingly on Thanksgiving morning. “They’re part of our lives. It’s not fiction to us, it’s reality. The fact that so many people think of it this way is a reflection on our community. Trumbull is a very accepting community and a production of Rent will only reflect that.”

By the way, remember how I mentioned that Mark had a commitment after the announcement of the cancellation which prevented her from springing to immediate action? It was a government class, and she was at the town hall from 3:30 to 10 p.m. Let’s help her and all the students at Trumbull High School ensure they’re able to do Rent this spring. Then let’s nominate Larissa Mark for public office. Imagine what she could do.

Note: Via e-mail, I reached out to Mark, Spillane and Guarino to request interviews at about 3:45 pm on Wednesday afternoon. Principal Guarino did not respond to my request, as he has not responded to any media requests thus far. Should I hear from him, this post will be updated accordingly.

Update, Wednesday December 4 at 8 am: Last night, at a regularly scheduled meeting of the Trumbull Board of Education, a letter from Trumbull High School principal Marc Guarino was read out. In the letter, Guarino affirmed his decision that Rent should not be produced at his school this year. To date, Mr. Guarino has personally made no public statement about his decision since his meeting with students on November 25, declining all media requests. That he would not personally appear to make his final decision known, and to participate in discussion about how he arrived at his conclusion, sets a poor example for public discourse. What at first seemed like it might yield a beneficial dialogue has taken on the air of an edict.

I have a confession to make: I am constitutionally unable to watch the acclaimed TV series Friday Night Lights. Now I realize this may be surprising to those who know and admire that program. My inability to sit through more than the first three episodes of season one is actually a testament to its effectiveness. The reason I cannot watch it is that it makes me profoundly angry.

The source of my anger is the omnipresence of the town’s obsession with football, which seems to be the only source of entertainment and focus for the Texan characters. I know the series is fiction (though drawn from Buzz Bissinger’s non-fiction book), but the single-minded portrayal of small-minded adults consumed by high school sports is by no means a false portrait in many communities, and it infuriates me.  After all, I neither play sports nor follow any with particular interest. Where, I’ve always wanted to know, is the comparable enthusiasm for the arts  in high schools, outside of magnet programs dedicated to them?

Well, per Michael Sokolove’s account in his book Drama High (Riverhead Books, $27.95), such support exists in Levittown, Pennsylvania, at Truman High School. Sokolove paints a highly appealing portrait of a school where the drama club stands alongside sports in the pantheon of school activities, and some athletes even defect from their teams to perform on the Truman stage. He credits this achievement to the just retired teacher and director Lou Volpe, who over 44 years drew attention and respect to the theatre program in an underachieving district in a moderate-income community, not in some well-financed suburban setting. For those who recall a New York Times story about $100,000+ high school productions, this school and its program are worlds away.

I had many reactions as I read Sokolove’s book, but first among was them was pleasure at seeing the story of high school theatre well-told, especially its ability to sustain young people who need to be rooted in a supportive community in a way their home lives don’t necessarily offer (as was surely the case for some of my high school drama comrades). While there have been a number of low-budget film documentaries in recent years that have looked at high school and community theatre programs for youth (including an episode of TV’s 20/20 which shares a title with this volume), Drama High is the first high profile, in-depth book on the subject that I’ve come across. As such, it immediately becomes required reading: for young people who can learn more about the challenge and rewards of theatre, for parents who may well need the same background, for anyone who doubts the value of theatre as an educational and character-building activity not only for those who would become professionals, for those who want to spark reveries of their own experiences in high school drama.

The book is at its strongest in its first half, which chronicles Volpe’s production of Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’s Good Boys and True, decidedly challenging work to take on at the high school level. In following the production, Sokolove really gets into the lives and heads of the kids who participate in the production and it evokes the profound importance and connectedness that theatre can bring, just like a spot on any sports team. That the play, which turns on matters of sexual orientation, can be staged in a public high school is a rebuke to small minded communities that seek to censor or eliminate drama programs over content – I’m looking at you Everett, Massachusetts and you Ottumwa, Iowa – as proxies for far too many more. That its achievements are recognized through regional and national Thespian Society competitions is icing on the cake, mirroring the plotting of Glee which focused on “making it to Nationals.” But this is real.

Friday Night Lights, also high school drama

The Glee comparison is one made in advance materials for the book (as is the Friday Night Lights connection), but unlike the Ryan Murphy TV series, Drama High never stoops to low and even ugly comedy and stereotype. Imagine if all of Glee sustained the level of quality and heart that characterized the story lines between Kurt and his dad, and you’ll get a closer approximation of what Drama High achieves.

The book is not without its drawbacks. As a graduate of Truman, Sokolove’s decision to write as a returning alumnus and ever-present observer draws attention to himself and away from straight reportage; his admiration for Volpe’s achievements is palpable, but as a result, we spend some time with Sokolove and Volpe instead of staying completely with Volpe and his kids, which is where the most compelling story lies. Also, as someone who is seemingly not immersed in the theatre (not necessarily a bad thing for a journalistic undertaking about theatre), Sokolove is drawn to Truman’s use by Music Theater International as a test site for musicals about to be launched into the high school realm, which is more about business and less about people.  That Cameron Mackintosh went to Truman to see their Les Misérables is impressive, and a feather in Volpe’s cap, but it’s not moving; the same focus on external affirmation undermines the account of Truman’s pilot production of Spring Awakening.

At one point in the book, Sokolove quotes Volpe at length talking about his own evolution as a director and teacher: “I had to learn balance, harmony, order, design, composition.” Most any theatre nerd would recognize the phrase as being drawn, almost word for word, from Sondheim’s Sunday In The Park With George; Sokolove lets it pass unremarked. He also doesn’t seem to understand that when Volpe talks about changing the order of scenes in Good Boys and True, he’s actually considering violating of the licensing agreement for the play; as it happens, Volpe was talked out of the idea.

Glee at its best

What I missed most in Drama High was the detail of exactly how Truman High School’s drama program managed to achieve such primacy. Sokolove attributes it all to Volpe, and no doubt he was absolutely central. But because Sokolove knew Volpe relatively early in his tenure, and then returns to him in the final years, we don’t have a fully rounded account of how this once-married, now openly gay man forged a respect for a program that most schools treat as an afterthought. Was it nothing more than perseverance? I yearned for a road map that other teachers and districts might follow to correct the lopsidedness that has always upset me when comparing academic arts pursuits with sports.

But there is no denying that Drama High is a moving account of how the arts can profoundly change lives and even the outlook of a community. Even by mentioning that I was reading the book, and tweeting links to a New York Times Magazine excerpt, I heard back from people who live or have lived in or near Levittown, who spoke with enthusiasm of Volpe and his program, affirming Sokolove’s view. He has fashioned a rare tribute to an influential teacher; while I suspect that perhaps few districts may have come to appreciate drama in the way they have in Levittown, I am certain there are countless other teachers, not only of the arts, but of math, science, history and yes, athletics, who have had significant impact on scores of lives who are deserving of commemoration as well.

And of course, Drama High actually manages to suggest its own sequel. Will the drama program continue to thrive with Volpe gone? Will the ongoing cuts to “non-essential” school programs take its toll in Levittown now that the revered advocate has retired? Or after generations of residents coming to appreciate theatre, is it safe, at least for the foreseeable future? That’s another story to be told, of import to arts education programs everywhere, one sure to be of high drama.

MA’s Everett High School, where content
complaints morphed into budget woes.

Follow this with me, will you?

“The plays bothered a lot of us,” says a school superintendent, referring to works presented by a high school drama group. “The plays had references to sex and drinking.” In one instance, a male student reportedly doffed his pants, revealing shorts.

Subsequently, the school system, citing an influx of students (reports a news article) announces that all drama classes are terminated, with the superintendent saying (as paraphrased in the article), “The school can no longer afford to offer the classes as enrollment grows.”

Did everyone notice the sudden turn in there?

This is no hypothetical, but a scenario played out at the high school in Everett MA and reported by The Boston Globe. While the school superintendent, Frederick Foresteire, wraps himself in the protective shroud of marshaling resources in challenging economic times (unquestionably a legitimate concern in every public school in the country), targeting a drama program for eradication after registering his personal disapproval of said program smacks of retribution.

The article seems riddled with mixed messages. If there has been the demand for multiple sections of drama up until now, how does increased enrollment warrant elimination of a course of study? It is impossible to determine from the article whether any other academic area was treated comparably, though that would seem germane.

If the school has been content to have a single teacher take responsibility for drama education for six years, why does the superintendent note that “there will not be four or five sections taught by one teacher” if drama classes return in the future? Supposedly this action is not in response to the teacher’s qualifications to teach drama. One teacher with expertise would seem the economically and pedagogically prudent solution down the line, full or part-time.

And while a school system is well within its rights to post teachers based upon need, why would Everett High’s principal make the decision to reassign the drama teacher (who also teaches science) to a K through 8 school? If the high school’s enrollment is an issue, sending teachers elsewhere wouldn’t seem to solve the problem (unless this was some sort of trade) and this teacher could certainly go back to more science courses. And surely where that teacher was sent to address the district’s needs wasn’t the principal’s decision, but that of someone higher up, with a more global view. Like, say, a superintendent.

While drama will remain at Everett High as an extracurricular activity, the article also notes that the school’s new principal, Erick Naumann, “will have more authority over the drama club,” and the drama coach “will have to submit a description of props and, if possible, stage directions, at least two months in advance.”

Does anyone still think this situation has anything to do with budgets?

In the past, I’ve acknowledged that schools and school districts have the right to decide what material is appropriate for their drama groups, academic or extracurricular, but I believe those decisions should be made in the best interests of the students, not the school system. I lobby for the widest range of material possible, but I admit am not charged with the creation of educational standards. When content issues arise, it is usually because administrators have paid scant attention to drama courses or clubs for years and only take an interest when something of “questionable” propriety is brought to their attention, often late in the game, or because of personal biases by administrators. But prop lists? Stage directions? At least two months in advance? That smacks of Big Brother and is impractical if not impossible, as anyone with a basic understanding of how theatre is made would know. It would be interesting to learn by what criteria such a submission would be either challenged or approved.

Also pertinent at Everett High is that some of the “offending” material that drew Mr. Foresteire’s ire was written by the students. Well, you know what? If kids are writing about their lives, topics like sex and alcohol are going to come up. Hiding them from view only serves to deny the opportunity for dialogue and learning — and it’s censorship of the students’ voices in an educational setting. Will Mr. Naumann also be determining which student essays and stories may be read aloud in English classes in his school? I doubt it. But I bet original student dramas won’t soon be seen again in those parts, so long as they need to be approved every step along the way, killing any possibility of creativity, spontaneity or truth.

When high school theatre initiatives are threatened or cut, attention to the issue is predominantly local and discrete, as if each was unique and only of interest to the specific school and town. That the Globe wrote about the situation in Everett is commendable, though it appears to have emanated from a local news bureau; read online, it’s impossible to discern whether it was in a regional edition or in the full run of the print version. The Everett High School drama decision deserves even more attention and investigation, as inconsistencies abound.

Even though the final verdict will occur every time at the local level when school arts programs are threatened over content, funding or both, these challenges to drama and indeed all of the arts need to be taken up nationally in each and every case as ongoing evidence of a continuing trend. That’s why as a Connecticut native and a New York resident, I’m worried about what has taken place in Everett MA, because I know it’s not an isolated incident. It’s just another in a long line of school administrations afraid to allow students to grapple with and learn about the world through art, under the guise of protecting them. Perhaps it’s even something more.

Oh, and by the way Mr. Foresteire: I dropped trou onstage, revealing boxer shorts, in a high school production back in 1977. The offensive material? Neil Simon’s The Odd Couple.

*   *   *

Click here to sign a petition in support of the restoration of drama education at Everett High School.

Julie Hennrikus of Stage Source in Boston wrote about the situation at Everett High School as well, explaining why the arts aren’t extra, but essential.

As I sat at last week’s session of The Shakespeare Forum, watching performers present monologues that led to highly supportive critiques from some 50 gathered peers, I was bombarded by thoughts.

Most immediate, of course, were my reactions to the presentations. While the format was for everyone present to feel free to ask questions and make observations, I spoke only once in the two hours, a single query limited to seven words. I might have engaged more, but as a newcomer, I was uncertain as to how to best frame my comments in this protective environment. Consequently, I became contemplative.

I had, needless to say, my own responses both to what was performed and the recommendations that followed. While I am no critic, I can be highly critical, but this was no place for the snap reactions that come upon seeing a finished show. I was watching people test their talents, as others sought to teach and learn from the conversations that ensued. Yes, I wanted to tell one woman that in an audition, it was highly unlikely that she could clutch the wall as she did; I wanted to share with one man that by his posture and position, I had guessed he was about to perform something from Hamlet even before he spoke; I wanted to debate some of the suggestions as wrong-headed. But that was what I wanted to say in the moment, out of habit, not necessarily what anyone in that room needed.

My thoughts turned to my unfortunate tendency to verbalize perceived flaws first; then I began to worry whether I was watching too intently. I have an unconquerable tendency to furrow my brows when I concentrate, which I have often been told makes me look angry when I am anything but. The last thing this room needed was negative expression of any kind.

As suggestions and admiration flowed, I wandered back to my two collegiate efforts at directing, which no doubt had all the finesse that an untrained, unschooled 19-year-old (who looked angry when thinking) brought to the table, which is to say almost none. Yes, at that age we’re all learning, but how brusque I must have been, how unsupportive, in pursuit of the production I saw in my head.

When the Forum group, as advised, snapped their fingers in support of statements they heard to express concurrence without interrupting to verbalize agreement, I realized that I had no idea whether this was a common practice in theatre courses and workshops, or whether this was something unique to The Shakespeare Forum. What else do I not know about performers’ education? This was simple; surely there were processes more profound.

I even was thrown back to the extreme awkwardness of my high school years as I realized how many in this group came regularly, and knew each other well, fostering safety. I was once again the awkward outsider, unsure of how to act except when with my own friends. Yet my discomfort was surely nothing compared to those who came to give voice to monologues, perhaps for the first time in front of others. Did I have that courage, as I did, irrepressibly, in my high school performing days?

Finally and most importantly, I realized how long it had been since I was “in the room,” that is to say, an actual rehearsal. As someone who chose theatre as a profession based on my love of the form, and my deep desire to play some constructive role in it, I was reminded as I sat on a folding chair in a basement room south of Canal Street that as my career advanced, I had extraordinary opportunities to see productions, but that the actual process of making theatre had become distant. I was reminded that for as much as I may know about the business and even perhaps the art, I’ve never been schooled in nor benefited from the practical experience of speaking the language of the classroom, rehearsal room, the audition, the performance.  I was a stranger in my own land.

This week, Michael Kaiser of The Kennedy Center wrote of his belief that arts managers are frequently too content in their jobs to be creative, and I challenge that assertion on the grounds of sweeping generalization. While I have no doubt that, as in any profession, there are those who are always growing and learning and those who find comfort in the status quo, arts administrators are always grounded in creativity, namely the work they support. Do some grow too complacent? Perhaps. But the ever-changing financial and entertainment environments virtually dictate that creativity is at the forefront of administrators’ and producers’ thoughts, as they struggle the sustain the frameworks that allow for production.

But rather than sweepingly and publicly castigating an entire class of arts professionals, I find it more constructive to offer a suggestion to ward against any potential stagnation, because of last week’s experience: namely that arts administrators must find the time, on a regular basis to get back “in the room,” namely the rehearsal room. It’s thrilling to work on behalf of great productions, but the core of what we are a part of is there within the drab beige walls, the mocked up scenery, the conversation, the camaraderie, the repetition and the revision. That is one essential part of the administrator’s continuing education, sustenance and success.

Even within a construct aimed at developing actors’ skills, not leading to any particular production or even necessarily to a better audition piece, my visit to The Shakespeare Forum, unexpectedly, unintentionally even, showed me some fundamentals of theatre, my chosen profession. I have no doubt that this would hold true in music, in dance, in opera, and so on. As administrators, we try to create simulacrums of this integral work – the master class, the open rehearsal, the invited tech – for our audiences, for our donors, for the media, to stimulate their knowledge, their loyalty, their generosity. But as insiders, we have access to the real thing. I urge everyone to use it.

I, for one, can’t wait to get back in the room again. I look forward to seeing you there.