Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals

TV Show - The American Theater Wing - "Working in the Theatre"

You know what's really humbling? Being in a room with a bunch of people who know a lot more than you do, about a subject that you thought you knew a whole lot about. And you know what's even more humbling? When that conversation gets taped for broadcast purposes.

A few months back, I was asked by Howard Sherman, the outgoing executive director of the American Theatre Wing, to appear on the organization's "Working in the Theatre" television program. The program airs on cable TV in New York City, but episodes are also available online and via Podcast.

The subject of this particular show was theater journalism, both online and off. And the panel featured some of the brightest theater journalists currently working. And me. My fellow panelists were: 

• Terry Teachout, theater columnist and critic for the Wall Street Journal, and author of the blog, About Last Last.
• Scott Heller, theater and book editor for the New York Times.
• Jan Simpson, former arts editor for Time Magazine, and author of the blog, Broadway & Me. 
• David Loehr, founder and editor of 2AM Theatre (2AMt), a theater-practitioner blog. 

I was deeply impressed by all of my fellow panelists, as well as moderator Howard Sherman, and their rich understanding of both the theatrical landscape as well as the past, present, and future of arts journalism. The panel made some especially incisive comments about the changing economic model for journalism, and what we can expect from the future of theater criticism. Meanwhile, I proceeded to prattle on about my dog Oliver, teaching musical theater, and, for some strange reason, Venn diagrams. 

The show should be airing sometime soon in New York City, although I haven't the slightest idea when, but you can watch it online (click here to watch the show online) or fire up iTunes and download the Podcast. The show is an hour long, but you can always skip past the parts when I'm talking.

A Theater Critic's Manifesto

Throughout my two weeks at the National Critics Institute, I had various daily assignments related to theater criticism and arts journalism. Most were reviews, although they took various forms and involved numerous directives.

For one assignment, I had to craft an entire review without using any adjectives. That was downright painful. I have a monstrous habit of relying all-too-heavily on superfluous descriptive words. Just take a look at this paragraph, and think of all the words I couldn't use in an adjective-free review: entire, monstrous, all-too-heavily, superfluous, descriptive, downright, adjective-free, etc. Oy.

Toward the end of the NCI experience, one of my assignments was to distill my notes from the previous two weeks into a sort of critic's manifesto: a collection of lessons, aphorisms, and watchcries gleaned from the comments and observations of my various critic mentors and fellow critic fellows.

Credit where it's due, the following list came mostly from the collected wit and wisdom of my esteemed critic mentors: Mark Blankenship, Michael Feingold, J. Wynn Rousuk, Michael Phillips, Andy Propst, Leonard Jacobs, Julius Novick, and the redoubtable Dan Sullivan, who is also the director of the NCI.

So, here is the gist, a practical list of dos and don'ts for critics. I print them here to give you a sense of what the discussions were like, as well as what I hope to adopt and adapt as I strive to become a better critic. I will also be including the list as a permanent link in the "pages" section of this blog. I'm asking you, dear reader, to peruse the list and hold me accountable. And feel free to use them in your own critical writing endeavors.

A Critic’s Manifesto

Compiled By: Christopher Caggiano

 As a professional theater critic…

• I will be both specific and brave.
• I will be fair but tough.
• I will endeavor to start conversations rather than be the final word. “You’re right, and I disagree."
• I will write to serve the reader rather than my ego.
• I will remember that I am a critic, even if it’s “only” for an online venue or a small-town paper.
• I will not strive for “objectivity” but rather “informed subjectivity.”
• I will continually ask and answer Goethe’s three questions:
  1. What is the author trying to achieve? (i.e. intent)
  2. How successful was the attempt? (i.e. execution)
  3. Was it worth doing in the first place? (i.e. value)
• I will put shows into historical, political, and artistic context, but only when necessary.
• I will review the play at hand, not the play I wish I were seeing.
• I will avoid playing show doctor. I’m there to judge whether the show works, not suggest what the authors should do to fix it.
• I will ask whether the play has earned my emotional response, or whether it’s yanking my chain.
• I will focus on the result rather than speculate about intent. This goes for authors, directors, and actors.
• I will avoid adopting the show’s failings in my writing. (e.g. Just because the show is overly emotional…)
• I will “take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.” -- Lewis Carroll (i.e. I will focus on making sense versus sounding smart.)
• I will not impose my own message onto the show.
• I will take out that first paragraph, when appropriate.
• I will focus on supporting my opinion more than stating and repeating it.
• I will show readers something they couldn’t see on their own.
• I will let my review take its own shape rather than following a formula. 
• I will remember that plays can ask questions that they don’t necessarily answer.
• I will avoid plot spoilers, using them only when necessary.
• I will eschew meaningless or nonspecific adjectives, such as “interesting,” “brilliant,” “amazing,” “stunning,” “breathtaking,” and “terrific.” 
• I will adapt the fashion advice of Coco Chanel. Words are like accessories. “You should take three off before you leave home.”
• I will use adjectives and adverbs sparingly. “Adjectives will cost you a dollar. Adverbs will cost you ten.”
• I will focus on fewer points, but provide more specific support for each.
• I will “kill my darlings” when necessary. (i.e. I will not fall in love with turns of phrase.)
• I will vary my sentence length for readability’s sake.
• I will include enough plot information to make my point clear, but not so much that it dominates the review.
• I will take out phrases or sentences that could apply to any play.
• I will paint the room, then add the furniture. (i.e. I will consider carefully the factual info that the piece really needs.)
• I will experiment with creative leads to induce the reader to read on.
• I will find ways of working the phrase “a bagful of harmonicas” into my prose.
• I will remain open to criticism. There’s always room for improvement. (i.e. I will both “dish it out” and “take it” as well.)
• I will never stop adding to my theatrical knowledge base.
• I will read and reread the theater criticism of George Bernard Shaw. Also Kenneth Tynan, George Jean Nathan, Brooks Atkinson, Walter Kerr, and Harold Clurman.
• I will read John Simon and avoid his pointless cruelty.
• I will not be afraid to be the cheese who stands alone. If I’m the only critic who hated or loved a show, I will make my best case and stick to my guns.
• I will do my research before attending the show.
• I will follow my fear. “Fear points like an arrow into the direction you must go.”
• I will “review the rain.” (i.e. I am there as a reporter as well as a critic. If something unusual happens, it’s fair game for the review.)
• I will watch the actors at curtain call. It’s only polite, and I might learn something.
• I will make myself available to readers, but maintain an independent voice.
• I will not allow friendship or acquaintance to influence my reviews. If the relationship is that important, I will not review the show. 
• I will find ways to put a human face on the people I’m writing about. 
• I will allow readers to put a human face on me.
• I will be an advocate for the theater, seeking to enhance rather than detract.
• I will heed the words of David Mamet: “You are as much a member of the theater community as anyone else.”

What I Did on My Blogger Vacation

What do you get when you mix seven incipient theater critics, eight professional-critic mentors, two new musicals, three new plays, two community productions, 90-degree weather, 100% humidity, and zero air conditioning? A recipe for theatrical homicide? 

Well, if you're lucky, you get a two-week experience nonpareil, with lots of opportunities for networking, professional growth, and the occasional cat fight.

Regular readers will recall that I spent the last two weeks in southeast Connecticut at the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center, recipient of the 2010 Regional Theater Tony Award, taking part in the National Critics Institute, sort of a boot camp for theater critics. It was an experience I will never forget, and I hope to share much of what I learned with you, dear reader, over the next few weeks. I'm also hoping that the experience will make me a better blogger, and perhaps help me line up some more paying gigs as a critic and arts journalist.

A typical day at the NCI would go something like this: Each night we'd see a show. Then it was home to write a review, with a 7:45 a.m. deadline. After breakfast, we'd read each other's critiques and get feedback from our critic mentors and each other. After lunch, we'd have workshops on such topics as writing opinion pieces, using new media for self-promotion, and using descriptive language. Then, after dinner we'd see another show in the evening, and the whole process would start again.

The shows we saw and reviewed were part of a number of longstanding programs at The O'Neill that run concurrently with  the NCI. Via the National Playwrights Conference, we saw the following plays in development: Creation by Kathryn Walat, Follow Me to Nellie's by Dominique Morisseau, and The Dream of the Burning Boy by David West Read. Courtesy of the National Music Theater Conference we caught workshop presentations of the nascent musicals Eden, with music by Mel Marvin and words by Jonathan Levi, and Clear by Paul Oakley Stovall.

We also made a couple of off-campus trips to see Carnival! at the Goodspeed Opera House and Buddy - The Buddy Holly Story at Ivoryton Playhouse. We're not allowed to blog about any of the productions we saw, since most of them were under development, but it was really a great experience to write about so many shows in such a brief span of time.

We had the great fortune of having the following pros as our mentor critics: Mark Blankenship, Michael Feingold, J. Wynn Rousuk, Michael Phillips, Andy Propst, Leonard Jacobs, and Julius Novick. The NCI program is run by the fabulously avuncular and Yoda-like Dan Sullivan.

One of our sessions took place at the Monte Cristo Cottage, the site of Eugene O'Neill's childhood home. We had a chance to read through Long Day's Journey Into Night in the very room where most of the play is set. I got the chance to read the lines of James Tyrone, the fictionalized version of O'Neill's father, James O'Neill. Were I a drinkin' man, I might have broken out the Irish whiskey, but instead I made do with Diet Coke.

As luck would have it, our stay at The O'Neill coincided with the annual convention for the America Theater Critics Association (ATCA), which gave us the opportunity to sit in on a number of session about how...well, how the industry is going to hell in a hand basket, and that the chances of any of us landing a full-time gig are approximately zero. We also attended a panel discussion about how arts critics can use social media to promote their work. 

OK, enough with the press release. Tune in tomorrow for my "Critic's Manifesto," a distillation of much of the collected wisdom that I gleaned over my two-week stint. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to blast the A/C and watch some trashy TV.

My Blogging Vacation - The National Critics Institute

Just a heads-up to all of you wonderful people out there in the dark. I'll be taking a two-week hiatus from blogging, but thankfully not from theater. From July 5th to the 19th, I'll be participating in the National Critics Institute, an annual event sponsored by the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center. For the next two weeks, I'll be hobnobbing with my fellow wizards, watching shows, discussing same, writing reviews, providing feedback on same, attending rehearsals, and just generally immersing myself in all things theatrical. I'm genuinely thrilled at the prospect.

For those of you unfamiliar with the O'Neill Center, it sits on a lovely spot in New London, Conn. overlooking the ocean, on the site of the actual O'Neill homestead, the spot where Eugene O'Neill and his family spent many of their summers. Of course, if you're at all familiar with Long Day's Journey Into Night, you doubtless know that these family summers were anything but homey and tranquil. The house is now a museum, dubbed Monte Cristo Cottage (see photo below) in honor of the role and the play that made O'Neill's father, James O'Neill, rich and famous. 

As part of my preparation for the event, I've been re-reading Long Day's Journey, as well as watching two of the filmed versions of the play: the 1962 version with Katherine Hepburn and Jason Robards, and the 1987 version with Jack Lemmon and Kevin Spacey. Each take is stellar in its own way, but, I mean, c'mon Kate Hepburn as Mary Tyrone? To die.

I also watched a filmed version of Ah, Wilderness!, which likewise takes place in New London, but is only autobiographical insomuch as it represented an idealized version of O'Neill's family background, what he in fact would have preferred his family to be like. 

As for the O'Neill Center, it was established in 1964, and has since become the home to numerous theater-development programs, including the National Playwrights Conference. Among the plays developed at the O'Neill are Agnes of God, Uncommon Women and Others, and a number of August Wilson's plays, including Fences, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, and Joe Turner's Come and Gone. Under the auspices of the National Musical Theater Conference, many significant tuners received workshops at the O'Neill Center, including Avenue Q, Nine, In the Heights, Take Flight, The Wild Party (Lippa), Violet, Bubbly Black Girl Sheds Her Chameleon Skin, and the upcoming Tales of the City. (The Story of My Life and title of show also had readings at the O'Neill, but as part of the Cabaret and Performance Conference.) In recognition of all the work the Center has done, it was awarded the 2010 Regional Theater Tony Award.

Expect a full report when I get back. I'm not allowed to write about any of the workshops that I'll be seeing at the O'Neill, but I'll be sure to report back to you about the experience, as well as on any non-O'Neill shows I may see as part of the bargain. (The critics "boot camp" includes field trips to local theaters, including the Ivoryton Playhouse and the Goodspeed Opera House.) Will I return with my analytical faculties sharpened to a finely honed edge? Or will the entire experience produce a sense of existential angst and ennui, prompting me to throw up my critical hands at the sheer pointlessness of it all? Tune in late July to find out.