Years from now, when the musical Wicked is eventually made available for school and amateur productions, will some high school administrator declare it inappropriate? After all, among its many plot strands is the story of (spoiler alert) the manipulative Madame Morrible, a school headmistress who schemes against those in Oz who don’t conform precisely to her standards, be they green girl or anthropomorphic animal. It’s a terrible portrait of pedagogy gone wrong and surely doesn’t foster the collaborative, supportive relationships that school leaders must seek with each successive generation of students, as well as with their faculty and staff. From that perspective, it’s seditious.

I’m reminded of this element of Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holtzman’s massively popular musical as I consider the challenges to high school theatre that I’ve read about, heard about and involved myself in. Recently, I was engaged to deliver the opening keynote at the Educational Theatre Association’s (EdTA) annual conference for high school teachers. During the question and answer session that followed, one attendee asked the others how many had had shows turned down when they sought approval for them. Roughly a quarter of those in the room raised their hands. In follow-up, they were asked how many had wanted to do certain shows, but didn’t even try because they were sure they couldn’t get approval. Virtually every teacher raised their hand.

Because I don’t believe that these teachers had all been contemplating Oh! Calcutta!, I find myself wondering about their internal decision-making, their self-censorship. Surely they weren’t considering shows which would be blatantly inappropriate in a school setting, so what are those shows that they thought would be good for their students, but which they didn’t even dare raise as a possibility? That might make for an interesting survey in itself.

Of course, what’s acceptable to the powers that be at one school, in one town, may be considered problematic in another. Earlier this year in New Hampshire, Sweeney Todd was canceled at Timberlane High School (since reversed) even as another school just a few towns away readied their production of the same show. In 2012, Sonja Hansen lost her position directing shows at Loveland High in Ohio after her production of Legally Blonde was declared inappropriate, yet according to the EdTA’s annual survey, its was the fourth most popular musical in high schools nationally.

So I’m very interested in the new “Public Performance Policy” that has been put into place at the Junior/Senior High in South Williamsport PA, where a production of Spamalot has been canceled by the principal for reasons that remain unclear. The drama director Dawn Burch asserts that Principal Jesse Smith stated, in an e-mail, that the show’s gay content was a factor. Smith himself has been silent since this story broke, and while the school administration has taken exception to one element of the first report about the issue (since corrected), it has yet to produce the e-mail in question to clear things up. Two “Right To Know” requests have been filed seeking that e-mail and related documents; one of those requests is mine.

The timing of the Public Performance Policy, revealed last night at a meeting for the school board, is certainly no coincidence, coming between the initial assertions of anti-gay bias and the release of clarifying materials. As read by the school superintendent, Dr. Mark Stamm, it states:

General Guidelines: Public performances serve as a capstone project for students to showcase their dedication, determination, and talents for their peers and for their families. Performances must be age appropriate for participating students and audiences. Material that is generally considered offensive, suggestive, or demeaning based on race, religion, age, gender, or sexual orientation is not appropriate for school performances.

The first sentence of the policy, describing “showcasing dedication, determination, and talents,” is nicely affirmative ­– until one notices that there’s no mention of learning or growth, which would seem essential in any school activity, even at South Williamsport, where the drama program is extracurricular, and the drama director an outside contractor, not a teacher. That said, any adult working with young people in a leadership position is a teacher, accredited or not.

However, it’s worth noting that there is a mission statement for the drama program on the school’s website which admirably speaks to deeper value. It reads:

Our mission is to provide students with the opportunity to better themselves through the Arts. Whether it is onstage or backstage, in the production crew or artistic departments, theater helps all people more deeply understand our place in our modern, multicultural, globalized world.

As an aside: finding the drama information on the school website isn’t entirely logical. While there’s a section for clubs, which includes “Yearbook,” “Chemistry,” “Student Council” and “Songwriters and Musicians,” it doesn’t include “Drama.” The Athletic Program has its own site, with its own URL separate from the school district’s. But “Drama” falls under “Departments,” along with “Guidance” and “Nurse,” to which it seems wholly unrelated. How very odd to set it apart in this way.

But returning to the Public Performance Policy, the second sentence isn’t particularly troublesome, so long as it is not used as a justification to infantilize students by feeding them dramatic pabulum. But it’s the third sentence sentence where things turn tricky. While the phrase about not demeaning any parties is admirable (although in their seeming haste, they neglected disability, among other concerns), the language which begins the sentence is limiting, yet vague. “Offensive” and “suggestive” are completely subjective, presumably to be determined according to Justice Stewart’s famous phrase about what constitutes obscenity: “I’ll know it when I see it.” But no two people probably agree about what is offensive, or what is suggestive.

If this policy is meant to be general guidance for teachers (and contractors), shouldn’t it be constructed as such? Wouldn’t it be better to use affirmative language about supporting and advancing society through inclusive representations of race, religion, age, gender, or sexual orientation, instead of saying it simply won’t demean people on those grounds? As it is now, the policy seems more a declaration for the public, and a very general yardstick that teachers might be struck with should they violate its amorphous tenets. Since the school already has a practice of the principal approving the drama productions, it seems that process would presumably address content concerns, based upon reading the text and exploring productions and educational materials from other schools as aids, but in an open dialogue that would negate the need for future Right To Know inquiries. That said, I don’t favor shows going to any manner of public vote, and school boards shouldn’t decide play selection any more than they tell a coach what athletic plays to run.

I wonder, however, where the concerns were when the South Williamsport High School did Grease and Once Upon A Mattress? Certainly there are those who would find the plot points about pregnancy out of wedlock in those shows both offensive and suggestive. Grease, frankly, is rife with suggestiveness, at least as I construe it, but I don’t happen to find it offensive; but it was more than enough to cause a school in Missouri, following a 2006 production, to cancel the next show on the schedule: The Crucible. What about Urinetown, produced at the school in 2009? All that talk of toilets and body functions must have offended the sensibilities of some in South Williamsport. The world’s most famous teen suicide story, Romeo and Juliet, was staged, but I wonder whether the school provided educational programs and material to students and the public about the dangers of romanticizing exactly the sort of behavior Shakespeare depicted?

Was everyone sanguine with the following plot points, drawn from two synopses on the website of the licensing house Music Theatre International:

Soon after, attractive and seductive women appear and slowly surround him (“With You”). At first, Pippin is enjoying the romanticism, however, the mood quickly changes and the women bombard him. Pippin is pulled into numerous exotic orgies.

*  *  *

Audrey has forgotten her sweater, and Orin slaps her around for it…. Orin then pulls out a container of laughing gas, complete with a gas mask and puts it on himself to get high… Seymour feeds Orin’s body parts to the plant.

Obviously they passed muster, because Pippin and Little Shop of Horrors were produced at the school before Dawn Burch was hired. With this new policy, could any of the aforementioned shows be done again? Indeed, since there are – sad to say and sad as it is – still people who find homosexuality offensive, would LGBT life in any play or musical be precluded from the South Williamsport stage in deference to their reactionary sensibilities?

At the EdTA conference, I repeatedly counseled teachers to cultivate open and honest communication about their work with their department heads, their principals, even their superintendents if possible. Support for sports seems a given at our schools, but support for all of the arts, and it seems theatre in particular, must be developed over time – and started anew each time a key leadership position changes personnel.

When cancelations emerge from behind school doors into the public consciousness, locally and nationally, genuine rifts inside school communities and even entire towns are always possible, with long-lasting and detrimental effects on drama programs. Some schools, such as in Everett MA, do away with drama altogether, deciding a fair and open discussion about dramatic value is simply a nuisance – and therefore the program is as well. Yet are sports shut down when a student is seriously injured, publicly? No. In the case of football, it remains celebrated, even as data on traumatic brain injury mounts, because athletic prowess and competition is honored. It is the thought and expression of theatre that seems to be the dangerous undertaking in so many instances.

Another question I now field with some regularity is whether it’s wise to speak up publicly about these conflicts, bringing them broader attention than they might otherwise receive. My response is that it does carry risk, but if people believe in the power of theatre to not only entertain but educate, in the best interest of the participating students first and foremost, staying silent only allows repression to flourish, and for students to be consigned to the blandest, safest, time-worn work possible. And doesn’t Wicked (among countless works of literature) teach us about the dangers of people working behind the scenes, censoring, excluding, supposedly in the best interest of the community at large?

Having cited Wicked twice, let me finish with a few lyrics that hark back to L. Frank Baum’s Oz stories. I think this pair of couplets, devised by master satirist Tom Lehrer almost 50 years ago, speak simply and directly to slippery words like “offensive” and “suggestive.”

On July 2, I wrote about a situation at South Williamsport, Pennsylvania’s Jr/Sr High School, where a production of Monty Python’s Spamalot, slated for 2015, was canceled, reportedly due to its gay content. A number of news items and opinion pieces were written about the cancelation, with particular attention paid to a statement that homosexuality doesn’t exist in the community. However, the television station which first reported the story subsequently repudiated that portion of its report, saying the statement had not been made. They stood by the rest of their account, which relied primarily on an interview with Dawn Burch, the school’s drama director.

So, nearly two weeks later, where do things stand?

As originally reported, Burch asserted that the principal’s cancelation was attributable to gay content in Spamalot, which he communicated to her in an e-mail. Burch sought legal counsel regarding her right to release that communication, and she has yet to share it, presumably on the advice of counsel. So the reported smoking gun that could prove or disprove anti-gay bias on the part of the South Williamsport district and/or the school administration has not been revealed.

However, the state of Pennsylvania has very clear “right to know” laws, available to both state residents and non-residents alike. Consequently, this morning, I filed a request for all documents and communications regarding the musical, in particular any communications between Burch, superintendent Dr. Mark Stamm, principal Jesse Smith and the licensing house Theatrical Rights Worldwide. According to Pennsylvania law, upon receiving a request, an agency has five days in which to either accede to or deny a request, with subsequent appeals processes.

As I was filing, I learned from a press report that another entity had filed the same type of request on July 10. While the source of the request was not identified, based upon their submission date, they should get an answer by tomorrow or at the latest Thursday, depending upon when exactly they submitted it. Without knowing who requested the material, it’s impossible to know whether they will make the response, successful or not, public. But at this point, I’m in the secondary position for an answer.

In the meantime, Equality Central PA had held a conference of support for gay rights on July 3 in Williamsport, which was attended by superintendent Stamm and school board president John Engel, as well as Dawn Burch. The event was by all accounts a positive one. But additional news reports included statements which suggested that Spamalot was only one play under consideration and had not in fact been selected and approved. Yet the superintendent said the play was canceled to avoid controversy, without specifying what he found to be controversial. While officials can’t even agree on whether the play was ever approved or was in fact canceled, the lack of approval claim is in direct contradiction of the statement I received from licensor Theatrical Rights Worldwide, that made clear that a license had been granted, which surely required both a contract and an advance payment (I don’t imagine any school enters into contracts for multiple shows while they wait to make a final decision). While Burch may have signed the agreement, surely someone from the district with authority signed the deposit check; it will be interesting to learn who approved that payment.

Last night, at a school board meeting in South Williamsport, the receipt of the first Right To Know request was acknowledged. However it appears the only public comment beyond that was that it had been referred to “the district’s solicitor.” As expected, they’ve lawyered up. For the record, my attorney received my e-mailed records request concurrently with the school district.

FYI: here’s an interesting tidbit. Under Pennsylvania’s Open Records Policy, every state and local agency must appoint an Open Records Officer. For the South Williamsport School district, that officer is Superintendent Stamm, not an outsider, ombudsman or impartial arbiter. I can’t help but suspect the documents won’t be quickly forthcoming.

And so, we wait, either for Dawn Burch to be assured that by releasing the e-mail she will not be putting herself at professional or personal risk or liability, or for the school system to release the e-mail, voluntarily or compelled to do so by law, the content of which they have not explicitly denied.

To be continued.

Addendum, July 19, 2014: When I got home last evening, I had mail from the South Williamsport Area School District, dated and postmarked on July 16. It acknowledged receipt of my request for records under the Right-to-Know Law and said that the request was under review. However, it was most specifically a “Notice of extension for time to respond to request,” citing the following reasons: 1) “Your request for access may require redaction of public records,” and 2) “A legal review is necessary to determine whether the requested record is a public record subject to access under the law.” The letter further states that, “The School District expects to provide a response to you on or before Monday, August 21, 2014. If the school district fails to provide you with a final decision within that time period, your written request is deemed denied.” It is signed, “Dr. Mark Stamm, Superintendent and Open Records Officer.”

And so, in accordance with the applicable Pennsylvania law, I must wait. If the request is denied, I have the right of appeal, at which point the Pennsylvania Office of Open Records becomes involved. As I wrote previously, I doubted I’d get an immediate, affirmative response to my request, so while this is frustrating, it is not surprising. I suspect that many people don’t have the patience to see freedom of information and open records requests through to the end. However, I am not one of those people.

Addendum, July 31, 2014: Equality Central PA has issued an update regarding their press conference from July 3 and their written offer to work collaboratively with the South Williamsport Area School District “in order to foster a more inclusive environment for all students.”  The update states, in part: “Dr. Stamm responded to the letter promptly, and Equality Central PA is now in discussions on how this new partnership will move forward together. As next steps are determined, details and updates will continued to be shared.” The update concludes with a note, stating, “It has been made known that two separate organizations have filed “Right-To-Know requests relating to the e-mails from Principal Smith to drama director Dawn Burch. Equality Central PA is not involved in those inquiries, but will share whatever information becomes available.”

“I chop down trees, I wear high heels, suspenders and a bra.

I wish I’d been a girlie, just like my dear papa.”

My friends and I happily sang those Monty Python lyrics, at the drop of a hat, throughout our teen years, identifying with Michael Palin’s exuberant character, rather than the men who walked away from him in dismay. Yes, we’d seen men dress as women in comedy sketches, but those were burlesques, painted in broad, garish strokes. There had never been a declaration of donning women’s garb as a part of regular life, let alone by a macho character like a lumberjack.

In my little gang of friends, we didn’t necessarily know or talk much about homosexuality, which was decidedly less open in our suburban lives in the 70s (though one of our group later came out, to little surprise from any of us). We also hadn’t heard of terms like transvestitism or cross-dressing. Remarkable as it may seem, Monty Python may have played a key role in raising our consciousness, even more so when we learned, in the following decade, that Python’s Graham Chapman was gay, sadly lost too young to cancer.

So it’s particularly galling, more than three decades later, to find that South Williamsport Junior/Senior High School in Pennsylvania has just shut down an intended production of Monty Python’s Spamalot reportedly because of its gay content. WNEP News paraphrases the school’s drama director, Dawn Burch, as saying, “school officials dropped the musical because of its homosexual themes, according to an email she says she received.” WNEP quotes the superintendent as saying, “We want our performances to be appropriate for the student performers and audiences so that anyone participating or watching can enjoy all aspects of the show.” There’s no indication of what he finds inappropriate or unenjoyable.

I have already reached out to Burch, as well as to the school’s superintendent, for comment; I’ve received no replies as I write a few hours later. I would very much like to read exactly what the e-mail that nixed the production said. The language needs to be brought out into the open. But if Burch’s characterization is accurate, it marks the first time I’ve encountered a school explicitly saying that gay content caused cancellation of a show; the language is usually veiled, with references to mature themes, difficult material or, as even the WNEP report is headlined, “questionable content.”

The WNEP piece continues, “In that email, Burch says the principal wrote that homosexuality does not exist in a conservative community such as South Williamsport.”

If the principal believes that, then he is standing with Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmedinajad who denied that homosexuality existed in his country during a 2007 speech at Columbia University. He is backing the rationale of Russia’s Vladimir Putin who has outlawed the “promotion” of homosexuality. That’s a very strange cast of characters for any high school principal to be aligned with, especially in such a conservative community.

While I’ll grant that there’s some language in Spamalot that a combined junior and senior high school might have some concerns about, they certainly could take those moments up with the licensing house, Theatrical Rights Worldwide. In fact, TRW already has an FAQ with suggested edits for schools right on its website (click here, then ‘Resources,’ then ‘FAQ for School Productions’).

But the marriage of the characters Herbert and Lancelot is non-negotiable. I asked Jim Hoare, director of licensing for TRW, whether they would ever entertain the excision of those nuptials, and his answer was blunt: “Absolutely not.” Hoare said that hundred of schools perform Spamalot annually.

This news is just breaking, and I’m writing with limited information at what I suspect and hope is the start of a story, not the end. One facet to be explored: Dawn Burch’s husband Samuel is on the district Board of Education, and both are active in community theatre as well, so there may well be support for the show above the level of superintendent.

Despite this coming to light just before a national holiday (gee, didn’t Trumbull High cancel their production of Rent right before Thanksgiving?), it must survive the weekend festivities, on a wave of deserved outrage. School may not be in session, but hopefully the students can organize, like students in Trumbull High School in Connecticut, like students at Timberlane High in New Hampshire, via social media, to increase pressure on the narrow-minded, retrograde administration.

That any educator or school administrator is still denying gay love and gay life in 2014, that a school would cancel a show in a move designed both implicitly and explicitly to shame and frighten any gay student, teacher or person, is simply ugly and wrong. It’s worth noting that in the very first news piece on this, reporter Kristina Papa quickly found people to counter the principal’s alleged, now retracted, assertion about gay life in South Williamsport, which must have really startled the blinkered administration.

It’s worth noting that gay marriage is legal in Pennsylvania. So it is ironic that, as they marry in Spamalot, Lancelot says to his spouse, “Just think, Herbert, in a thousand years time this will still be controversial.”

I guess Tim the Soothsayer had warned Lancelot about South Williamsport, PA. But maybe we can change history, if we raise our voices together.

I urge you to write Superintendent Dr. Mark Stamm (mstamm@swasd.org) and Principal Jesse Smith (jsmith@swasd.org) to voice your concerns (and please share your correspondence with me, if you’re willing, at howard [at] hesherman [dot] com. But I ask that you do so respectfully, even if the district doesn’t afford the same respect in its attitudes and actions.

Addendum, July 3, 5 pm: WNEP now reports that the principal did not make the statement about “homosexuality not existing.” I have left the material in place with the text and my rhetoric about it struck through, because I cannot deny having shared that original report or that I made statements resulting from it, but to show that they are also no longer supported by facts in evidence. Disclosure of the e-mail at the root of this controversy seems more essential than ever, and it should be noted that the school administration certainly has the legal right to disclose it should it wish to do so.

For those who do read the original WNEP story, it should be noted that the local resident and parent, Manny Tskitas, who makes several statements in support of the school administration’s position and questions the play choice, is also a staff member of the South Williamsport school district, as the librarian for grades K through 6. It would have been beneficial if WNEP had noted his affiliation.

Correction, July 5, 7:30: The original version of this post stated that Graham Chapman died of AIDS. That was an error and the text has been updated with accurate information.

Based on the commentary I was seeing in online articles and social media comments yesterday, someone had just painted a mustache on the Mona Lisa. No one seemed to care that Da Vinci had decided to it himself.

I’m referring to the outpouring of dismay over the news that some changes had been made to the storyline and score of Disney’s upcoming film of Stephen Sondheim’s Into The Woods. Mind you, no one has seen the film as of yet; the response resulted from a New Yorker “Talk of the Town” piece in which Sondheim spoke of the changes, and more to the point, from online articles based on that story which extracted out the specifics of the pending changes without the full context of the original report, which regrettably is behind The New Yorker’s paywall. Therefore it’s the secondhand reportage which seems to have reached the widest audience and sparked a healthy flurry of unhappiness.

I for one would like to state that I’m shocked – shocked, I say – to find that the creative and commercial forces behind the film adaptation of a stage work have mandated changes in the original material (for those immune to written sarcasm, I mean to say that I’m not remotely shocked). The litany of stage material (or for that matter books, true life stories and even prior films) that has been slightly altered or radically reworked for movie consumption is endless. But even minor changes become the fodder for endless online investigation, interpretation and instantaneous outrage, the currency of so much digital derision by the faithful. And it’s not even an online phenomenon – I remember the furor that arose when Tim Burton had the temerity to cast Michael Keaton as Batman in the 80s, even for what was a major reworking of material that had been reduced to camp 20 years earlier on television.

That Disney might want to homogenize some of the spikier elements of Into The Woods should have come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the company’s brand, which has a long history of altering fairytale stories, from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty to Once Upon A Time and Maleficent. Yes, I am one of the many who revere Sondheim’s work, and the man, but just as the removal of “The Ballad of Sweeney Todd” from that film adaptation didn’t ruin the story on screen, I’m at least willing to wait to see Into The Woods before I critique its choices, whatever the rationale. And let’s face it, after almost 30 years, it’s not as if film companies were fighting for the right to bring the material to the screen.

What frustrates me much more in this scenario is the way in which the details of changes have been excised from their context in The New Yorker. Sondheim’s revelation came out of a conversation with high school teachers which touched upon some of the problems they face in trying to produce challenging work at their schools, by Sondheim and others. While reporter Larissa MacFarquhar is glib about opposition to Sweeney Todd (“the teachers were smut and gore idealists”), she does report on the portion of the conversation specific to Into The Woods. In particular, she relates how the teachers told stories of opposition to elements of infidelity and sexuality in the Sondheim-Lapine piece, and how Sondheim compared the attitudes of school administrators to those of Disney executives. (I asked the organization that arranged the conversation, the Academy for Teachers, whether a recording of the full session had been created, but founder Sam Swope said they had none, that the New Yorker account was accurate and that the censorship discussion was only a small part of a wider-ranging talk.)

When a teacher explains that she must always present bowdlerized versions of musicals (please look up that odd word if you don’t know it), the article reports:

“Can you let them read the original and then discuss why, say, Rapunzel is not allowed to die in the adulterated version?” Sondheim asked.

“We do that, but they just get angry. They feel censored–they don’t feel trusted.”

“And they’re right,” Sondheim said. “But you have to explain to them that censorship is part of our puritanical ethics, and it’s something that they’re going to have to deal with. There has to be a point at which you don’t compromise anymore, but that may mean you won’t get anyone to sell your painting or perform your musical. You have to deal with reality.”

Now I’m not entirely comfortable with Sondheim’s conflation of censorship with marketplace realities, since censorship is performed unilaterally by people in power against those without influence, whereas creative alteration in a commercial setting results from negotiation – and money is at the root of the decisions on all sides. Into The Woods wasn’t taken unwillingly from Sondheim – he sold it. I trust that he has safeguarded the essence of the show. But I agree that the impulse to homogenize for the marketplace does indeed come from a puritan ethic, as does school censorship, both cases where adults take a patronizing view of what young people can handle – though in the case of a Disney film, they’re trying to reach audiences much younger than the participants in high school theatre programs in a big tent effort.

It is the stage alteration in schools that perpetually worries me. In cases when creators or rights holders have authorized “junior”or “school” versions of stage works, they are active participants in the excision of “challenging” material,” and while perhaps that’s also a market-driven decision, I like to think that it also occurs in the best interests of allowing to students to take on work which would otherwise be wholly off-limits in a school setting. Regardless, I worry about the academic gatekeepers who mandate these changes, which may vary from school to school or state to state, and in far too many cases are done at the school level without any approval from the licensing house or creator. That’s where censorship is truly taking place and insidious. It’s where the idea that anyone can alter a stage text at will is born, much to the consternation of authors, and their representatives at the Dramatists Guild, in the U.S.

As Sondheim notes in the New Yorker piece, “If you look at most plays, it’s like the sonata form in music–if you screw around with that, you’re taking your life in your hands.”

It is clear in the article that Sondheim is an active participant in the film of Into The Woods, whether his resulting choices are grudgingly mercenary or willingly collaborative is hard to assess. Regarding the removal of the Baker’s Wife’s liaison and the song “Any Moment,” the article reports one educator’s distress and Sondheim’s acquiescence.

“Stick up for that song!” a teacher called out.

“I did, I did,” Sondheim said. “But Disney said, we don’t want Rapunzel to die, so we replotted it. I won’t tell you what happens now, but we wrote a new song to cover it.”

As with any adaptation of a prior work, changes are inevitable. Fortunately, the new version doesn’t change the source, and in the case of Into The Woods, Disney’s film won’t yield a whole new stage text. I do worry that schools will interpret the screen revisions as permission to alter their own productions, which is in fact illegal; I’ve been struck by how often opposition to Sweeney Todd has arisen from the film’s gouts of bloods, which suggest that gore is essential to the show, when even John Doyle’s Broadway revival dispensed with obvious blood-letting, so the films do suggest a template to the public. What is very likely to occur from the Into The Woods film is that people beyond the core fan base for musicals will be introduced to the genius of Sondheim and, perhaps, that even more schools will do the show – according to the approved text.

It may be fun join in online outrage, but it’s an impotent act in a case like this. The film will be what Disney wants it to be. Why not put those efforts to better use, and direct them to supporting live theatre and making sure that the teachers whose genuine concerns sparked this kerfuffle have the opportunity to tackle brilliant and challenging work with their students, their schools and their communities. That’s where your voice can make a difference, in advancing the cause of arts education and in the battle against true censorship whenever it arises.

Addendum, June 23, 2014: One week after The New Yorker article came out and five days after the online furor began, Stephen Sondheim released the following statement about changes to Into The Woods, which largely negates the cuts he said would be happening. It reads:

An article in The New Yorker misreporting my “Master Class” conversation about censorship in our schools with seventeen teachers from the Academy for Teachers a couple of weeks ago has created some false impressions about my collaboration with the Disney Studio on the film version of Into the Woods. The fact is that James (Lapine, who wrote both the show and the movie) and I worked out every change from stage to screen with the producers and with Rob Marshall, the director. Despite what the New Yorker article may convey, the collaboration was genuinely collaborative and always productive.

When the conversation with the teachers occurred, I had not yet seen a full rough cut of the movie. Coincidentally, I saw it immediately after leaving the meeting and, having now seen it a couple of times, I can happily report that it is not only a faithful adaptation of the show, it is a first-rate movie.

And for those who care, as the teachers did, the Prince’s dalliance is still in the movie, and so is “Any Moment.”

We all know that web traffic is the lifeblood of online media, giving rise to such essential reporting as “Which Game of Thrones Character Are You?,” “Which Breakfast Club Character Are You?” and every imaginable variant on this gambit. It is, of course, clickbait, designed to get you to interact with a site and see some advertising and increase page views, engagement time and other such metrics. Frankly, after finding out which Muppet I am (Beaker, if you must know), I stopped taking the bait.

But there’s some more high-minded clickbait out there, and The Hollywood Reporter is engaging in it right now. Via SurveyMonkey, THR is asking people to vote for what they think are the Best Drama Programs, at the high school and collegiate level (there’s no distinction between undergraduate and graduate for the latter). While I couldn’t find the survey on their website, it was being tweeted around, so I have the survey sans preface, sans methodology, sans everything. The fact that the schools you can choose from are pre-selected could be the top results of a larger study, but as it travels the tubes of the Internet, there’s not necessarily any way to know. (If there is any science behind this, I challenge THR to append it to their survey, and I’ll amend this post accordingly.)

To put it simply, I think this is preposterous and rather insidious, because when the resulting article comes out, a number of aspiring young theatre artists just might think it’s based in some degree of expertise, rather than the result of a narrowly defined popularity contest. A few schools might even cite it in promotional materials, and you can be sure the results will go zipping around with both pride and dismay.

So I’d like to say simply this: if you come across it, ignore it. Don’t fill it out. Don’t share it. Don’t comment on the results when they appear. Recognize it for the clickbait that it is, far beneath the sometimes excellent reporting that has been a part of the truly resurrected THR. If they exist to report on the industry, then they surely could commission a real study, or build a special section about drama education, not exploit us for our eyeballs. Offering a list of schools (and classes and even summer camps) with a slight nudge towards the fame of a few graduates (mostly actors, some of whom graduated decades ago) isn’t designed to inform anyone, it’s designed to get people to read and talk about The Hollywood Reporter. It doesn’t even offer the opportunity for write-in candidates, which would at least make it a fairer popularity contest. And who thinks the resulting article, revealing the skewed results, is likely to come out right around The Tony Awards, when theatre’s profile, like it or not, is at its highest nationally? I sure do.

What’s the harm, I hear some of you say? Isn’t it just another benign internet survey? No, because it will be the basis of boasting, of decision making, of aggravation, depending upon who you are and how you relate to the results.

While I’ve reproduced the survey, you’ll notice I haven’t linked to it. I won’t give them the satisfaction. I hope you won’t either. And if you want to give them a piece of your mind, tweet them at @THR.

P.S. I don’t mean to suggest that THR is the only site to do such spurious surveys. There are others. But this one is happening right now.

Program cover for Little Shop of Horrors

If you somehow managed to materialize in the auditorium of Jonathan Law High School in Milford CT this past weekend just as the band began the opening strains of Little Shop of Horrors, you would have simply thought yourself at a perfectly enjoyable production of that infectious musical, well-rendered by its teen cast. As the show progressed, however, you might have begun to notice something peculiar, a motif in the costumes, worn by every character: a purple ribbon, with a small circle affixed to it.

Of course, if you had seen the news in the prior week, if you drove into the high school lot, if you read the program, you would know that this was not your average high school production. One week earlier at the school, 16-year-old junior Maren Sanchez had been killed by another student, reportedly after she declined his invitation to the prom.

Director Michael Mele

Maren was a vigorous participant in many school activities; the drama club was high among them. On Saturday afternoon, and presumably at the two other performances, the drama club’s faculty advisor and director of the production, Michael Mele, took to the stage pre-show to speak about Maren. He also explained that when the tragedy took place, he assumed the production wouldn’t happen, and that it was the other students who wanted to go forward, as a tribute to Maren. In the program he wrote, “We feel that by proceeding with the show we are doing what she would want us to, to get up there and do the best damn show this school has ever seen.”

Having never attended a show at Jonathan Law before, it’s impossible for me to say whether it met that standard. But I can say that it met an even higher one: that these young students performed together as very likely the bravest cast that I have ever seen.

*    *    *

When we read about a tragedy like Maren’s death, and we read about them far too often, I suspect that most of us feel helpless. “I wish there was something I could do,” is a refrain I’ve heard, and thought myself. In the case of a natural disaster, some may go and donate blood, countless more make a financial contribution. If the tragedy literally hits closer to home, there may be more that can personally be done.

As I read various accounts of Maren’s death, I felt helpless once again, even though it did hit close to home: Milford is the town adjacent to Orange, where I grew up. As a teen, I spent a good bit of time in Milford, because that’s where the movie theatres were; even now when I take the train to see family and friends, I get on and off at the Milford station.

When I first read that Maren was an enthusiastic member of the drama club, I began to wonder whether there was in fact something I could do; when I learned she was to have been the person animating the ravenous plant Audrey II, I suspected I might be able to help. Imagining that if the show went forward they might need a puppeteer, I wrote to Mr. Mele (who I’ve never met before) and said that if they needed someone to come in and perform as Audrey II, I had connections to the puppetry community through my time at The O’Neill Theater Center, and I’d be honored to help. I wrote perhaps seven hours after Maren’s death.

On Sunday morning, a bit after 8 am, Mr. Mele returned my e-mail (apologizing for not responding sooner, if you can imagine). He wrote that the decision had been made to go forward with the show and that, yes, they could use help. I immediately sent messages to Stephanie D’Abruzzo of Avenue Q fame; to Pam Arciero, who runs the O’Neill’s Puppetry Conference; and to Martin P. Robinson, who designed and performed Audrey II in the original production and the Broadway revival. They are all Sesame Street veterans as well. Stephanie called within 20 minutes and as I reached for the phone, an e-mail popped in from Pam. This is all before 9 am on a Sunday morning.

By Monday, they had roped in Bart Roccoberton, head of the Puppetry Arts program at the University of Connecticut; by the end of the day, Bart had cleared the decks for a UConn student, Austin Costello, who had performed Audrey II before, to complete his academic work and be in Milford from Tuesday through the final show on Saturday. Austin carried the heaviest load, my puppetry friends had made the right calls, all I did was set things in motion. Inexplicably, they thanked me for doing so.

When I met Austin for the first time following Saturday’s matinee, I explained the chain of events that had brought him to the high school. My instinct was that if the show was to go on, it would have been very difficult for another student to take their friend’s role so soon, and to bring in a student from another high school would have been challenging in its own way. With someone who knew the show, who could focus on the work so that the drama club could focus on both performing and, if at all possible, to begin healing, one small part of the production might be less laden with sorrow. In our brief meeting, I sense that Austin was a perfect choice, warm and good-natured, utterly professional, pleased to have been able to help. Not to detract from the bravery of the students and their advisors, but Austin, especially due to his modesty, was an unsung hero this past weekend.

*    *   *

I mentioned that the cast all wore purple ribbons; at intermission I saw audience members wearing them as well. The small circle, it turns out, was Maren’s photo. With this small gesture, she was on stage with her castmates throughout the performance. Purple was her favorite color, as I had read in news reports; many members of the audience were wearing purple shirts, and even the crew wore purple show t-shirts, presumably not a coincidence. The memorial at street side, with balloons, lit candles and stuffed animals, was dominated by purple; trees along the town’s green carried purple ribbons as well.

As I said, the performance went without a hint of the tragedy that pervaded it, save for the ribbons. The only glitches were those that could happen to any show; one zipper got stuck mid-scene, to the frustration of the young performer, but he powered through like a pro. The only overt acknowledgment of Maren came at the very end.

The cast came out for its curtain call as so many casts do: ensemble, supporting players, leading actors taking bows in succession. Then a company bow, a gesture to the band, to the back of the house where light and sound were being run and where Mr. Mele sat, an acknowledgment of the audience. They joined hands and bowed once again. Then they did something extraordinary that I shall never forget.

The company separated at the middle, each half moving a few steps toward the stage left and stage right wings, leaving an empty space center stage. As they moved their upstage arms towards the gap, which was filled by a purple circle of light, the final strains of The Beatles’ “In My Life” came over the sound system. And then the lights went out. They gave Maren the final bow.

*   *   *

Sadly, I have no doubt that other high school shows are touched by tragedy every year; the passing of family members, even the untimely passing of a cast member or fellow student. I hope that few experience the wrenching, inexplicable loss that happened at Jonathan Law.

I write not to record my own tiny role, but to recognize everyone who came together to put on Little Shop of Horrors, which included students from Sacred Heart, West Haven, Westbrook, Trumbull and Amity High Schools, the last being my alma mater. No doubt there were members of the media there at one of the evening performances, since they had certainly followed the events of the past week; I saw none on Saturday afternoon. I wish I could say that the show had sold to the rafters, but the houses were not all full. Despite the press attention every aspect of Maren’s death had received, it did not generate ticket sales, and I think I understand why: in some ways, as an outsider, I felt like I was intruding on something special and private. I went because I had caused someone else to do great service to the show, but I went with mixed emotions. I suspect others felt similarly about buying a ticket. Sadness and loss do not drive people to the theatre, I fear.

So I finish with two thoughts in this fragmentary account.

The first, to audiences everywhere, with no chastisement to my southern Connecticut neighbors intended: when a show proceeds in the wake of tragedy, I hope you will flock to it. Performers who undertake a tribute through the stage want you to join with them, as they commingle the exuberance of a production with their private tears of loss. Live performance requires us to come together always, and there is never a greater time to come together than to celebrate a life even indirectly, as with Little Shop – even of someone we never knew – and to comfort, support, appreciate and applaud those who would celebrate it in whatever manner they choose, should they choose to invite us in.

More importantly, I say to everyone who had a hand in Little Shop of Horrors this weekend: you honored your friend and I was honored to bear witness to that. It makes me deeply sad that you had to perform such a rite so early in your young lives, but please know that I saw much more than one of my favorite musicals, and that with your loving tribute, you helped to insure that Maren is, to paraphrase the show, somewhere that’s purple.

Of course, on the face of it, it’s simply the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard.

In a letter to the parents of kindergarten students at Harley Avenue Primary School in Elwood, N.Y., the principal and kindergarten teachers wrote:

“The reason for eliminating the Kindergarten show is simple. We are responsible for preparing children for college and career with valuable lifelong skills and know that we can best do that by having them become strong readers, writers, coworkers and problem solvers.”

The Washington Post seemed to be first on the case, with a story titled, “Kindergarten show canceled so kids can keep studying to become ‘college and career ready.’ Really.” That pretty much set the tone and I jumped into the fray, sharing it online with introductory words including “dumb” and “shame.” I happened to be e-mailing with a producer at CBS News on a personal topic and passed the article along to her, and I tweeted it in the direction of a reporter at The New York Post, knowing how they like to take umbrage at things. I wanted people to see how ridiculous this was, and is.

Most people leaped right on the bandwagon with similar sentiments, and my Facebook post of the article was shared more than 70 times. This morning, Google News shows me that the story has been picked up by outlets like Gawker and the Post, and I saw a quick report on it on CBS This Morning. Even London’s Daily Mail got in on the act, so we look dopey overseas, too. I don’t flatter myself that I had any role in spreading this story very specifically; I cite the examples just to show that it’s getting around.

But I was caught up short when a high school classmate effectively took me to task on Facebook for not considering what the letter might actually mean. Greg, who teaches high school in New Hampshire, who had a long career as a professional dancer, and who I haven’t laid eyes on in about 30 years, said he saw the letter as an effort by the principal and teachers who signed it to highlight the strictures of common core efforts and a push to teach to tests, a cry for reconsideration of increasingly constrained teaching opportunities. “Is it possible,” he wrote, “That these folks are saying, tongue firmly in cheek, ‘Our hands are tied! The onerous burden of government regulation leaves us no choice!’”

The situation seems so preposterous, the farce that it tries to explain away is so extreme, that Greg’s assertion that it was activism is worth considering. Could this be the most creative indictment of arts cuts and standardized teaching that’s ever come to light, couched in a letter of apology?

In my haste towards sarcasm, I failed to take into account the hundreds of thousands of dedicated teachers who have to grapple with ever-evolving teacher requirements, shrinking funding and so many other indignities of our modern education system. My mom was an elementary school teacher who left the profession because of the stress of functioning within a system under siege, and this was back in the 1980s. In the kind of knee-jerk reaction that the Internet makes so easy, I may not have shown respect to a field I admire so much, all because of a few paragraphs in a letter that found its way to the media. I regret if anything I posted suggested otherwise.

That said, I doubt Greg’s suggestion (echoed by others in entirely separate posts) that the letter was an act of political theatre. Would a principal and teachers have conspired to write such a letter and leak it to the press, putting their jobs at risk? If so, why did it turn up in Washington DC instead of in New York (the school is on Long Island)? Why were the signatories all refusing any comment to the press? While the letter may have been suffused with frustration, I doubt it was a political act, and if it was, it was a failed one, because instead of drawing light to important issues, it has drawn only scorn to the school.

Now if in fact sentiment about preparing kindergartners for college pervades every aspect of education in Elwood, that may not be the fault of the teachers or even the principal. As my schoolmate Greg points out, the ultimate responsibility here lies with the school board, which is really dictating the district’s agenda. By the time it trickles down to the elementary school and its staff, it’s required, not optional. Someone needs to start questioning that school board at their very next meeting as to whether this is what they truly believe.

But whether the letter is botched activism or simply the most extravagantly preposterous outcome of arts cuts, No Child Left Behind and Common Core, let’s turn it into an activism moment.

Right now, the media is primed to cover the story because of its wryly comic value. We may well see it discussed tonight on The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Letterman, Fallon and the like. I suspect it will be of equal appeal to Rachel Maddow and Sean Hannity, for entirely opposite reasons. It could take on a life of its own. It will be more ridicule, most likely, not constructive conversation. But can we turn it to the benefit of the arts?

If you’re part of an educational institution that values the arts, or an arts institution, can you use this letter as the pretext to get on local radio, local TV, on editorial pages, on blogs, to express what so many did on Facebook yesterday? The very values that the letter implies are more important than any play are exactly those that participating in a show – even at such an early age – ­can build. This is one of those moments when the arts have the spotlight unexpectedly and arts groups and arts educators should seize that spotlight for the benefits we believe in and the values we know to be true, instead of seeing one school chastised and ridiculed.

This isn’t about a single group of kindergartners, but about our core values for all students – that the arts are not disposable, that they are not frivolous, and that they can in fact prepare students for life. It may seem an exaggeration of the scenario in question, but just as the story will be used to extrapolate theories about the pros and cons of how children are being taught, let’s use it as a microcosm of what its happening at every level of the education system, a bellwether, a call to arms that’s impossible to ignore. If this doesn’t make arts cuts comprehensible to absolutely everyone, what will?

And for goodness sakes, isn’t kindergarten mostly about introducing children to the idea of school, to socializing them with children who don’t live on their street or aren’t relatives or friends of the family? You know what’s a great socializer? Working together, perhaps singing together. We call that, in the biz, a show.

Arizona State University’s Gammage Auditorium

[This post has been updated twice since it was originally published. I urge you to read it fully before drawing any conclusions.]

Rent is at the center of an academic controversy again, with a few twists. This time, it’s not the whole show, it’s just one song, “La Vie Boheme.” It involves multiple high schools and a college simultaneously. The performance is over and done. But the song echoes.

Here’s the gist, summarized from video and written reports from AZcentral.com: earlier this month, students from Arizona high schools attended the Arizona All-State musical festival on the Arizona State University campus, under the auspices of the school’s Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts. While there, they attended a performance made up of various pieces by the university’s performing arts groups, across many disciplines. The Lyric Opera Theatre program performed the aforementioned number from Jonathan Larson’s musical. Reportedly some of the students were uncomfortable with the content and physicality of the presentation and decided to leave during the performance, some fairly quickly. They shared their feelings with their teachers and their parents.

Subsequently, the Herberger Institute sent an e-mail to the music teachers of the groups in attendance. It read, in part:

“We sincerely apologize for the poor programming and lack of communication that led to the presentation of an inappropriate scene from the musical Rent at our host concert. I apologized directly to your students in each ensemble rehearsal on Friday afternoon, but I wanted to make sure you know that the entire School of Music community feels remorse over this unfortunate decision.

We have addressed this situation with those responsible. I assure you that we will implement a new protocol for the review of performance material so that this does not happen again.”

A similar but not identical statement was issued to the media. It read, in part:

“The faculty member who coordinated the host concert trusted that those planning the musical theatre portion of the concert would make appropriate decisions regarding the selection from the musical Rent. Unfortunately, this did not occur and an inappropriate scene was presented. The poor decision made by our Lyric Opera Theatre faculty marred the experience for many. The Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts recognizes an audience’s right to choose what they come to a concert space to see. Unfortunately, the audience was not given a choice as our program contained no warning about the adult content that was presented nor was an announcement made from the stage giving them the opportunity to choose to stay for the performance or not. 

The concerns of parents and directors were taken seriously with personal emails and phone calls made immediately, and a process has been put in place to reconfigure the leadership and organization of the Lyric Opera Theatre program so this does not happen again.”

The media message finished with “The School of Music deeply regrets this situation.” Both messages were issued by Associate Dean and Interim Director of the School of Music, Heather Landes.

Here’s what we don’t know: did “rows and rows” of students exit the auditorium, as one parent asserts? It’s unclear if that parent was even in attendance, or characterizing a situation based on hearsay. Considering that news reports say the school received 14 or 15 calls about the incident, it’s hard to tell how many of the several hundred students were troubled by the performance, though the calls could have come from teachers, rather than parents. We also don’t know what the staging of the scene was precisely, so a characterization of it as being “pornographic” is most probably hyperbolic (and catnip to TV coverage, as well as a caption writer who declared “an extreme performance … left the students shocked and disgusted”), even if a bare behind was flashed. I certainly hope the staging was exuberant and enthusiastic, as the show calls for. [I did attempt to get more details, but save for the prepared statements, received no other response to my inquiries to Prof. Landes and two separate staffers in the Herberger School of Music’s communications office.]

It does appear that the high school teachers who brought their students to the event didn’t know what the programming would be, and it turned up without the context of a full production. While I wouldn’t bat an eye at high schoolers seeing a discrete performance of that song, I grant that some parents and teachers might not condone even a flash of partial nudity or simulated intimacy. Because high schools do have a supervisory right and responsibility over what their students see while under their care, especially when away from school, I agree that somewhere along the way, a step was missed. A heads-up wouldn’t have been out of line, though an actual warning would have been. Although unless these schools have private showers for gym class and school sports, someone’s butt wouldn’t exactly be a revelation. Some pelvic thrusts or a bit of groping? Like it or not, par for the course in so many aspects of our popular culture, familiar except in the most sheltered of teen lives. I’m speculating now, but shudder to think that the portrayal of same sex couples could have brought on such swift disapproval by the offended teens.

A mistake was made, students made a choice not to watch once they saw a glimpse something they preferred not to sit through, no one was harmed, and given what ensued, it’s highly unlikely that such a thing would have ever happened again. The rather profound mea culpas – remorse? really? – that were issued strike me as a bit much, especially with emphatic statement about new protocols and reconfiguring. The disavowal of the scene from Rent is overboard, unless the production went way overboard. Given that mooning provoked the complaints, it’s perhaps a bit glib to say now that the statements suggest asses were being covered, but I can’t resist.

But there’s more. I turn your attention to a statement issued jointly last night by Acting Dean Landes and Dr. William Reber, Director of the Opera and Musical Theatre training programs since 1991 at the ASU School of Music, announcing that Reber would no longer lead the Lyric Opera Theatre program.

“Dr. Reber made the decision to step down from his administrative role as director of the Lyric Opera Theatre program voluntarily, and we respect his decision. He remains a faculty member of the ASU School of Music; where he has served the students of ASU for more than 23 years and will continue to do so. Our school and our students have greatly benefited, and will continue to greatly benefit, from his creative spirit, his commitment and his love and passion for music…

Leadership in the arts requires both artistic vision and difficult work. It also requires the willingness to take responsibility for how that work is presented and communicated. This incident was important enough to the school and its relationship with the Arizona community that Dr. Reber felt he needed to accept responsibility, and he has chosen to use this as a teaching opportunity for his students about the role and responsibility of an arts leader, not just to the organization he leads but also to the community at large.”

I’m not so sanguine about Dr. Reber “needing to accept responsibility” in the way that he did; one never knows the behind the scenes pressures that lead to such a prepared, jointly-issued set of remarks. I can’t help but think that the university felt it needed someone to take blame for this, needed someone publicly shamed, and this was the solution worked out. While I applaud Dr. Reber for not throwing anyone under the bus, it troubles me that the university couldn’t absorb this gaffe and maintain intact a program that was, apparently, working just fine save for this one-off gaffe. Dr. Reber protected his staff, but couldn’t ASU have found a way to fully protect its faculty and programs? 

Unlike a content controversy in a high school alone, where all the stakeholders are close by, a university setting is rather different. In the case of ASU, it’s a public university, so there’s all kinds of governmental politics that come into play. I have no idea what the ASU town-gown situation is, and how that may have affected into this. ASU’s students certainly aren’t necessarily all from Tempe, where the school is located, nor were the high school groups, so this is a statewide issue. But the strongest constituency for a school, its alumni, could be scattered across the country. I fear that a vocal minority has prompted swift results while the majority of Dr. Reber’s potential supporters didn’t even know that a problem existed.

So here’s the deal. If you live in Arizona and believe that Dr. Reber should still be running the Lyric Opera Theatre program (without having his hands tied over the work he does for the university’s students), start writing to the school’s president Dr. Michael Crow (Michael.Crow@asu.edu). Don’t call him names or presume anything about his personal beliefs and politics, just speak out in support of a vital theatre program and urge him to reinstate Dr. Reber to the Lyric Opera Theatre. Do the same if you’re just a supporter of quality arts education, for both high school and college students, no matter where you live. If you’re an alumnus or alumna of ASU, write to Dr. Crow as well, but you might also want to include R.F. “Rick” Shangraw Jr. (rick.shangraw@asu.edu), the head of the ASU Foundation, on your note, and mention whether these circumstances will have any impact on your future donations to the school. That can get a university’s attention.

Early reports and an online petition, since amended, incorrectly had it that Dr. Reber resigned or was forced to resign. He’ll remain on faculty and teach, but it still seems a shame that he’s been separated from the Lyric Opera Theatre program he ran. While some parts of the local community may be satisfied by this outcome, it’s worth noting that such events could cast a pall over the creative arts on campus. To insure that ASU can be a strong resource not only for its current students, but for students who may want to attend in the future, ASU should be standing behind Dr. Reber, acknowledging the error but not bending over backwards to placate the public. Because let me tell you, if aspiring theatre students, if aspiring arts students, hear that at Arizona State, Rent is something to apologize for, they may well think twice about where they want to go to school.

P.S. It may interest you to know that the incoming dean of the Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts, Steven Tepper, is the author of the book Not Here, Not Now, Not That: Protest over Art and Culture in America, which by coincidence is on its way to me from Amazon as I write. I’m dying to know what he makes of all this.

Update, April 24 1 p.m.: On Facebook, I saw the following statement shared, which adds very important perspective to this discussion. It is a personal statement from Dr. David Schildkret of the ASU School of Music, and in no way an official one from the school, in response to the online petition:

“A petition is circulating that castigates ASU for allowing Bill Reber to step aside as Director of Lyric Opera Theater. Earlier this month, LOT presented a portion of Rent to high school students without warning of adult content. It was part of an ASU School of Music showcase for the Arizona All-State music festival. Bill, recognizing how damaging this is to our school, has chosen to step aside. I believe the petition, while well-intentioned, is misguided. I posted this on their Facebook page. I am speaking for myself, at no one’s urging, and in no official capacity. Here is the post.

Friends: I speak as a friend and colleague of Bill Reber who deeply admires what he has done. I feel that this petition fails to recognize the honor and nobility Bill has shown by his actions.

Please understand the incident. Students participating in the Arizona All-State came to a concert that was meant to showcase our School of Music. An excerpt from Rent was offered as part of that. The excerpt, “La Vie Bohème,” included explicit language and highly suggestive staging. It was NOT appropriate for a general high school audience, and there was no warning of that. (When the same excerpt was presented in a preview for the Lyric Opera Guild, the staging was toned down. That didn’t happen when the same material was performed for 14-year-olds, and even Bill was surprised by that.)

The students in the audience did not come to see Rent. They did not know (none of us did, in fact) that material that was not school-appropriate would be presented. About a quarter of them left the hall and returned after the Rent excerpt ended.

This is not about a few offended parents. It is about the responsibility of artists to know their audience. It is about what we were trying to present to students and teachers at All-State. The question is not whether Rent itself is problematic. The question is whether this was the suitable occasion for this particular performance. (“Seasons of Love” would have been touching and appropriate and would have caused no such difficulty.)

Make no mistake, this damaged the ASU School of Music. You may not like that, but it is the reality. It undid work to build bridges to local schools that many of us, including Bill Reber, have undertaken with zeal and passion for years.

If in fact the university had caved to a few cranky parents, I would sign the petition in capital letters. But people were legitimately and justifiably offended at an occasion that was meant to be anything but offensive. That is their right.

Please give Bill Reber the credit he deserves. He did not succumb to strongarm tactics: he is more powerful than that. He felt that a wrong choice had been made and took responsibility for it. He has stepped up to say that he recognizes that we accomplish most when we respect our audience. He has stepped up to say that there were better choices to be made and that he could have seen to making them.

I deeply admire Bill for this. He is a model for all of us. By all means, send him letters of affection, thanks, and support: he deserves them. But don’t dishonor him by trivializing his very courageous and noble actions.”

I wish the school had been more forthcoming from the start with this kind of clear information. It mitigates a good deal of what I’ve written, and provides essential context, but I leave my post intact rather than remove or alter it. Thank you, Dr. Schildkret.

Update, April 24, 4 p.m.: Dr. Schildkret has written me directly to respond to something which I questioned in my original piece. He says:

“Rows and rows of people really did walk out of the performance on 4/11. About 25% of the audience left for that piece. Some of that was teachers taking their classes out en masse so that the teachers wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Once again, my thanks to Dr. Schildkret for straight answers to important questions. From here on, I leave everyone to draw their own conclusions.

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.