Directors Statement
Roadside Theater's core activity is conceptualizing,
writing, staging, and touring plays. Sometimes we do this solely
from within our company; at other times by collaborating with other
professional artists and national theater companies; and in still
other instances in league with talented singers, musicians, storytellers,
and dancers who don't make their living as artists.
We think of each new play as an experiment, not just
in content, but in form. Our artistic process is one of taking chances
and learning. While practicing our profession, we have made two
collateral discoveries that we think are noteworthy: A proven way
to help a community build bridges across divides of class, race,
and ethnicity, and a method to engage all parts of a community in
publicly telling its stories.
The impetus to build bridges over divisions of class,
race, and ethnicity came from a play created with Junebug Productions,
the African American company from New Orleans. Junebug/Jack is
about the historical and present-day relationships between
black and white working class southerners, so naturally we wanted
black and white working-class people to attend. The problem is that
black and white working-class people do not typically go out together
(or separately, for that matter) to the professional theater.
Our solution was to ask the sponsors of Junebug/Jack,
which is a musical, to pull together a group of singers from different
quarters of their community - for example, from their white Methodist
church, from their black AME Zion church, from their integrated
high school, and from their women's choir. With their director,
this new community chorus would rehearse the show's music over the
course of several months, and then in final rehearsals, I, as the
play's director, would stage them into the production. Junebug/Jack
would swell from a cast of our six to say twenty-two.
Out of support for their family and friends, as well
as curiosity about this new thing happening in their community,
large numbers of people showed up for the performances who would
not otherwise have attended. And not only did the community's talent
make the play more exciting, the rehearsal process brought seemingly
unlike people together around their common passion for singing.
Relationships were formed, bringing with them insights into the
universals that we share. Subsequently, if enough interest was expressed,
which was often the case, we offered to help a community continue
building these relationships. To accomplish this, we employed a
second discovery, a methodology that helps a community raise and
appreciate its voice.
After a decade of national touring, everyone at Roadside
became conscious of the fact that our performances were better when
a broad cross-section of the host community was present; such audience
diversity, we noticed, raised the emotional thermometer and I.Q.
in the auditorium. The key to sustaining this audience diversity
was learning that people want to participate, not just watch.
In response, we developed a residency model that rests
on four broad principles we call our pillars: Partnerships and collaborations
with an inclusive range of community organizations; local leadership;
engagement over the course of at least several years; and our flexibility
to alternate between the role of teacher and student. Roadside's
method can be represented as a circle that rests on these pillars,
but the different points of activity on the circle don't necessarily
occur as discreet events.
Here's how it works. The first point on the circle
is when we come into a community and perform from our repertoire
of original plays, like we did with Junebug/Jack. People
see and evaluate what we do. In interactive workshops following
the performances, we explain our history and our artistic process.
At the second point of a residency, we invite community
people to come together to share their music and stories. In structured
music and story circles, participants begin to hear and appreciate
their own voices. We pick a theme for the circles - maybe some important
incident in their local history or a current event. This becomes
compelling, like fresh news, because participants often hear new
information about a common experience. From these ongoing circles,
a complex sense of a particular place begins to emerge.
The songs and stories, which are often recorded, become
the basic ingredients for the community celebrations that end the
second phase. We often have these festivities around community-wide
potluck suppers. Onstage, people play music, sing, and tell the
stories that they've by now started to craft. All such celebrations
are composed of many voices, because throughout the residency we
insist on keeping the door open for new people to participate.
In the third phase of our process, the community stories
and songs become the natural resource for creating drama. Nascent
and experienced community playwrights, producers, directors, actors,
and designers use this body of material to conceptualize, write,
and produce plays. (Of course, the material lends itself equally
to other performing arts forms, such as dance.) We help as necessary,
filling the gaps of information and inexperience.
The fourth point on the circle comes after the production
is up and running. We suggest ways for residents to honor their
local artists and leaders, and we help broker an infrastructure
to establish their theater in the community. We introduce our new
peers to the national network of artists and communities similarly
engaged. Now the local community has a vehicle to continue exploring
its story, and the theater field has a new member.
We now come to the curious part of our journey of
discovery: Because both the community chorus and residency method
work in just about any situation, in any community, we reasoned
that there would be great interest in employing them. Certainly
the rhetoric of local and national leaders in the philanthropic
and public sectors suggested a concern about social divisions and
the democratic social contract that these divisions threatened to
cancel. And surely, we thought, the not-for-profit theater would
not turn its back on the opportunity to have a larger and more diverse
audience.
Reluctantly, we've had to conclude that we misunderstood.
Presently our society does not have a firm commitment to the outcomes
that our discoveries make possible; quick fixes that mask exclusion
are preferred to the more arduous process of social change. The
good thing, however, about such discoveries is that they remain
ready to be enacted, like a promising play script.
Dudley Cocke
Director, Roadside Theater
Aug. 2002 Statement
Oct. 2001 Statement