What I Learned About Canadian Theatre from my Niece's Dance Recital.

Of late, I’ve been working on grant proposals. To write a grant proposal you need to understand what it is you exactly believe. To find that out I often use a practice that was prevalent in the building of Catholic theology. I have internal debates between myself and a Advocatus Diaboli, the opposite position. This is the result of one of my dialogues.

Julian:                   Children’s dance recitals show a lot about the current state of art in Canada.

AD:                         What do you mean by ‘Children’s Dance recitals?’

J:                             Just that. I attended a dance recital for a local community dance school. This school offers a myriad of classes; ranging from ballet to hip hop for young children from toddler to teen.

AD:                         Why did you go to this recital?

J:                             My niece was participating.

AD:                         Your niece?

JULIAN:                I have two. Both are different. The youngest, whom was participating, is a ball of energy. Whip smart. Perceptive beyond many adults, but as is the curse of many of her ilk, will be the thorn in the side of anyone who interacts with her.

AD:                         And the older one?

JULIAN:                The older one is the kindest child you will ever meet. She’s sensitive; possessing all the same intelligence of her sibling with the added problem of feeling everything to a titanic depth. The world will be tough for both.

AD:                         Why do you say that?

JULIAN:                The world is not kind to those who are different. It does not accept what cannot be categorized. The board will have no place for these pieces.

AD:                         So, you went to this dance recital?

JULIAN:                I did. I try to attend everything a family member does. Especially these two, who have little male influence in their life. Males for some reason in our culture do not support cultural expression. Close males in my family didn’t, and unfortunately, that has translated down to the next generation.

AD:                         That can’t be true.

JULIAN:                I did have grand fathers involved in the arts, but they died before I explored my artistic self.

AD:                         What did this dance recital show you about the arts?

JULIAN:                Showing is too vague a term.

AD:                         What term would you use?

JULIAN:                Demonstrated.

AD:                         What did the child’s dance recital demonstrate to you?

JULIAN:                It demonstrated that our arts, and by extension the Canadian theatre, is out of touch with its audience.

AD:                         You’ve often said that the Canadian Theatre is out of touch with its audience. You say it so often that it sounds like sour grapes, like shooting from the sidelines-          

JULIAN:                I’ve grown tired of saying it too.

AD:                         What do you mean?

JULIAN:                I say it so often that I have begun to wonder if it is me out of step with the theatre.

AD:                        Is it you?

JULIAN:                It could be. However, when I went to this amateur dance recital what I saw was an active audience, freely interacting with the stage. Reacting to the actions upon it. Invested in the performance.

AD:                         What does an invested audience look like?

JULIAN:                For instance, when a child waves at a parent the parent waves back. A child became so overwhelmed with the sound of the audience that he began to cry; the audience was with him every step. As the tears flowed, the audience groaned. When the child gave into his fear the audience cooed and lovingly reacted with him.

AD:                         But that is just the action of families watching their children.

JULIAN:                You are right.

AD:                         So why does it matter to the theatre?

JULIAN:                It goes to the heart of what theatre is meant to be. Theatre is an expression of community; people together, feeling experience, shared commonalities; like the raising of a child; like the realization of fear. This is the essence of a performance.AD:                         And the Canadian theatre doesn’t have this?

JULIAN:                Not the theatre I have experienced.

AD:                         What do you mean?

JULIAN:                When one goes to the theatre one is told immediately the rules. “Turn off phones, don’t unwrap candies, sit here, do this, don’t do that.”  All these things are human behaviour; behaviour that we do when we are out together. The audience sits in the dark; watching the goings on of the stage. They are separated from each other. There is no community. The Canadian Theatre audience could never tune with a crying child.

AD:                         Right. They wouldn’t; because what you watched in that child was real. The theatre is artificial.

JULIAN:                Perhaps, that is the problem. Perhaps there is too much emphasis on the artificial nature of the stage.

AD:                         You are a fan of Brecht.

JULIAN:                Yes. I am.

AD:                         Doesn’t Brecht call for a theatre that is artificial, that is conscious that it is a theatre?

JULIAN:                No. I don’t think he does. He often used a term that translates to a ‘literate or scientific theatre,’ not an artificial theatre. What Brecht wanted to do was create controlled environments to undergo experiments. A place that has a certain expectation that is then done away with. I advocate that.

AD:                         So, you are for rules then.

JULIAN:                I am for rules that allow freedom.

AD:                         That is double talk.

JULIAN:                It is not. Music has rules. There are certain notes that can be played. A soprano may top out at a high c, go no lower than an A below middle C, but within those rules an infinite amount of expression can be achieved and has been achieved. What the theatre needs is rules in much the same sense. For example; ‘you must sit in this theatre. How you sit in this theatre is up to you.’ That’s what the audience has. They know the child must be on stage. We are going to watch them dance. That’s the rule. We must be in the room with them while they do that. Beyond that. It’s unexpected. It’s accidental freedom.

AD:                         What do you mean?

JULIAN:                When the older children performed, this freedom ceased to exist.

AD:                         How did the freedom stop existing?

JULIAN:                I don’t know "how;" but what I did see was the older children had inhibition. They were conscious they were on a stage. They knew they must do a job. The new they had to perform it well. Their faces held a bland expression. They did not acknowledge the watchers. Their performance became and execution of moves.

AD:                         That’s what dance is.  You execute moves well to music. That’s the goal.

JULIAN:                Why do it?

AD:                         It’s art.  That’s what art is. The execution of parts together to create a finished piece.

JULIAN:                It didn’t have a purpose. The moves were instructions. “I must tap here, to spin here, to go there, to raise my hand here.”

AD:                         Right. That’s choreography

JULIAN:                But it’s cold.

AD:                        What do you mean?

JULIAN:                When we perform for others it is a two-way (or many) way connection. Art is about connection. Whether it be making moves as part of a dance, or performing a scene, playing a symphony, we are connecting with an audience; or trying to. That is the purpose. Blandly executing choreographed moves is what a trained dog does in anticipation of a treat. These children were acting as dogs. They were executing their moves for some gain.

AD:                         What did they gain?

JULIAN:                I’m not sure. But every parent had cut flowers to give to them at the end. Perhaps, those.

AD:                         Aren’t you over thinking this? Isn’t it good for children to learn a form of expression?

JULIAN:                But that’s just it. They are expressing nothing. They are executing from memory moves that a teacher has given them to some chosen music. There is no deeper need to express a feeling, idea, word. They are just recreating something of someone else.

AD:                         That’s not true. Surely, their teacher likely instills in them something of how to engage in expression.

JULIAN:                That’s not expression either. That’s a rule given to the child by an autocrat. Why do we teach our children that art is the pursuit of execution verses art being the pursuit of connection; that art is a personal expression to be shared with others?

AD:                         Because that would teach the child that their voice is valued and unique.

JULIAN:                Right. We remove the freedom of the children in everything they do so that they can stay controlled. If we allowed to them to see the community within artistic pursuit, they would learn that they are valuable people, and a person who knows their value is a problem for a world that is built on hierarchy and control. That little boy crying on the stage, the audience moaning along in empathy, is a dangerous moment. It shows that people are alive and connect to others. Imagine if they did that within the labour movement or some other place where economic purpose can be disrupted.

AD:                         You are being needlessly bleak.

JULIAN:                It’s bleak, yes, to realize children are being taught to become joyless, selfish, pins; but there is some inherent positivity. Perhaps, the reason my niece didn’t enjoy this dance recital is because she is that square peg in a circle hole. Perhaps, she still has enough will to know her value. Perhaps, what I saw on stage was the fight I was frightened she will lose, and the result was that she won and wasn’t crushed by it.