Cheap Theatremaking

I have often heard professors of some of my theatre classes advocating the advantage of not having “a lot of stuff” onstage. In other words, minimal (or no) constructed design elements. Natural light in an empty room can be even more effective than a fancy light plot on a proscenium stage, we’ve discussed. We’ve looked at site-specific theatre pieces that involved zero props or scenic elements other than what was provided by the site itself, with natural light and simple costumes selected from the actors’ wardrobes. In many cases, these pieces of theatre were more compelling than many of the plays we could think of in our actual School of Theatre performance season, or at the seasons of nearby professional companies like the Huntington. The resulting opinion tends to resound, Down with intricate design! Such things create a wall between the audience and the performers. Bodies in space and time is all we need.

In these same classes I have participated in performance projects that adhere to such a minimal aesthetic of design. We did not have access to the tools or money required to include elaborate (or even moderate) costumes, lights, props, and scenery. A theatre cube or two became our set, and I think the most designed prop we ever had was made out of cardboard coated in tempera paint. Costumes typically include the ever-generic but always achievable swath of blacks, with an occasional red or white piece of clothing for drama. But after class was over, we returned to work on our actual Production assignments, participating in costuming, lighting, designing, or managing pieces of theatre that would involve far greater elements of design. Electricians would create specific light plots, Costumers would sift through our theatre’s stock to pull and alter looks for actors, or might even build a costume for an actor from scratch. In some cases, scenic design has been as complex as two units of two-story houses with a hand-painted full-size backdrop. Stage managers would negotiate all of these elements in order to run the show effectively backstage and execute technical elements according to the designers’ visions.

Scenic Design for Boston University’s 2012 “Il Matrimonio Segreto.” Design by Jiyoung Han.

As can be imagined, theatre Design and Production students, myself included, become somewhat disgruntled by such celebrations of minimalist theatre. After all, if natural light were to be used in the majority of all theatre productions there would be many electricians, technicians, and lighting designers who would be out of a job. The same can be said for technical directors and carpenters, as well as mostly anyone who makes theatrical design and production a career.

This is not to say that simple and minimal design choices are not design choices that can be (and are ) sincerely, effectively orchestrated by directors and designers to serve a play. But more complex designs with greater technical elements allow theatre artists to push ourselves and expand our artistry in new ways. For example, the BU production of Il Matrimonio Segreto challenged and interrogated the problem solving skills, resourcefulness, and execution of its designers, painters, technical directors, carpenters, and stage managers in entirely new ways that a minimal production never could have.

Since I had most often heard the celebration of the minimal from theatre artists on the performance or non-technical side of a process, I stood my ground on the benefits and visual delights of more greatly designed productions. The conversation dissipated over the following semester. But it was reintroduced this week in my Scenic Design 1 class, when our professor Jim Noone – who has designed Broadway theatre literally for decades – reminded us, after we had created simple installation projects in groups, that we were able to make pieces of theatre that moved our audience and sparked conversation with hardly any “stuff.” The installations of most groups used natural light or a few well-placed clip lights, and typically the only scenic elements were raw pieces of fabric to shape the found space. Costumes (if any) were closet-pulled. Jim told us we had effectively used all the elements of design without spending much time or any money. And we had a good time doing it – unlike so many of our elaborate school productions that can cause unnecessary stress headaches.

Hearing the minimalist argument from the other side – particularly from someone who has had huge amounts of resources with which to create theatre – opened my eyes in a different way. The idea that you can make great theatre without spending money is not a concept you hear much about on the Design and Production side of town.

The US government is shut down due to the Senate’s inability to agree on a bill to fund it. In the arts world, New York City Opera has finally announced that they will closed their doors due to bankruptcy. Evidence of US financial turmoil is all around us. And given that many theatre companies spend most of their time simply trying to get consistent audiences to attend their shows, it seems apparent that this is not the time for $50,000+ budgets. (or more…)

The true, visceral basis of theatre is just people connecting with other people. Sharing stories, feelings, and experiences in a communal space has been an essential and cathartic element of human history since we matured as a species. This is something I have known for a long time, but have always preferred to pair with elaborate design. I am speaking now in favor of cheap theatre. Let us return to theatre’s true mission and simply create spaces in which true stories can be told. Start where you are, and use what you have to make a great play. There’s a very good chance it is all at your fingertips.