The Value of the Skeptical Audience

Performers need an audience. By definition. We can’t simply ignore that, even for “the sake of the art.”

"You Are an Ignorant Fool"

Not too long ago, a Facebook posting put a few of us on the defensive about the quality of (what some referred to as “amateur”) theater in the Rochester area. The individual who made the comments claimed to be quoting someone else. Nice cop-out, Mr. Facebook Rant. It was a fairly lame way to dodge the barrage of bullets in the form of comments and rebuttals that were fired back. Never-the-less, this individual was commenting as a valued member of the theater Audience, and had every right to his – relatively rude, biased, and frankly uninformed – opinion. He had seen a handful of productions on the Rochester stage and had made a vast and sweeping generalization about all theater in Rochester.

I’m going to spare you a recap of the responses that followed – which, themselves ranged from the relatively uninformed to the downright rude – because after all, we had all felt attacked and we had every right to defend ourselves and our work. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, no matter how rude or uninformed; but as a valued and contributing member of our Audience, he had the right to be heard.

We have the right to respond. And we did.

But we also have the obligation to listen.

And to act. Especially when that opinion differs from our expectation.

The Need to Listen and Act

We invite our friends, family and other loved ones to our performance. We are proud. We expect them to enjoy it and we (at least in part) expect their praise following that performance. And with good reason. We’ve worked hard, we invested our time and talent, sometimes at great sacrifice to other aspects of our lives, and most times we are not remunerated. So the only form of compensation we do receive is in the accolades showered upon us at the conclusion. It feels good to know your efforts are appreciated. It contributes to our well being and for most of us, it’s part of why we do what we do: for the love of the art. And let’s be honest: it’s a nice feeling when the art loves us back.

But the skeptical audience, like Mr. Facebook Rant, is disinterested in our well-being. Theirs is an outside opinion. They have invested nothing. They aren’t objective; that’s not what I’m purporting. An opinion is always subjective. That’s what makes it an opinion.

But it is unbiased, and hopefully, impartial. We hope, at least, they did not come to mock or ridicule or find fault or criticize. That is the work of the professional critic. And even then, we must remember that review is, again, only one person’s opinion.

The opinions of our Audience, no matter how ill-advised, no matter how poorly delivered, should matter to us. And not just after the fact – after the curtain call, as we are meeting and greeting our adoring public, poised and ready to receive the accolades of friends, family and strangers who came to see us inform, move, entertain, or otherwise affect them with our performance. The opinions of our audience should matter to us from the very beginning and throughout the entire process.

Ignore the Audience and Pander To Them

I saw an episode of Inside the Actors’ Studio where George Lucas (of Star Wars and others fame) was the guest. At some point during the interview, James Lipton engaged Mr. Lucas in a discussion of the purpose of the movie-going audience and the part they play in the director’s process of making a movie. Mr. Lucas said something then that has stuck in my memory ever since. Although I don’t remember his exact words, it went something like this, “A good director ignores the audience and simultaneously, panders to them.”

Film and theater are alike in many respects, not the least of which is the form the art itself takes. Theater (and film) is when you take something two-dimensional, black and white, cold and lifeless, and turn it into something colorful, breathing, three-dimensional and full of life. Theater happens when you take a work of art from page to stage (I didn’t make that up, and I don’t recall who said it first or where I read it first, but I’ve borrowed it ever since). To do that successfully, you must make choices. Lots of them. Everything you do on the stage is a choice.

Theater is the artform of choice.

It’s a balancing act.

You don’t make every artistic choice based on “what the audience will think.” To do that would not be simply debilitating to your artistry, it would be downright paralyzing. After all, not everyone in the audience will have the same response, reaction, or opinion about what they’ll see and hear. You would drive yourself crazy trying to please everyone. No, you cannot simply pander to the audience.

But you do make sure that whatever your choices make, you take responsibility for how they might be perceived. Theater performance, after all, has little value performed in a vacuum. It is an artform that requires an audience. It is our job to reel them in; to create a world in which they can immerse themselves and forget about everything else except what is happening before them; to make them believe.

So, no, you cannot simply ignore them.

Meant To Be Seen and Heard

Remember theater is the artform of “page to stage.” It is the artform of choice. We are in control. We have the power. The director’s job is to advise, guide and encourage the choices the actor makes. The actor’s job is to make us believe them.

Make. Me. Believe you.

Choices, therefore and of course, must be made to be realistic, believable and true to the text (the “page”). However, choices that don’t look good, or sound good, or do not translate well in performance (the “stage”) should and must be reconsidered. Sometimes, the believability must run a close 2^nd place.

You see, and you know this – the audience has not read the play. Typically. Some may have, if you have theater aficionados present, or (the most special case) an audience of actors and other theater artists. At the very, very least, the audience (probably) doesn’t have a copy of the text in front of them, to which to refer during your performance! So you need to be heard and understood before you can be believed.

Make Me Believe You

So what does this mean?

Directors, I’ll address you first.

At least once (the more often the better, but don’t overdo it!), spend some rehearsal time in the shoes of your audience. Put on your theater-goer hat and sit out in the house. Watch. Listen. Divorce yourself from your process as best you can. Better yet, if you can, invite a trusted colleague to come in to watch, listen, and provide you some feedback from an audience perspective.

[By the way, those of you in New York, the Theatre Association of New York State (TANYS) offers a very valuable service in this respect, in the form of a Rehearsal Adjudication. For more information, please visit www.tanys.org or contact me at info@blacksheeptheatre.org.]

Encourage your actors to consider their audience as well. They must make their own choices, it’s true, with your guidance and direction. Their choices must make sense within the text, your vision, the structure of the play, and from the perspective of an outside observer (i.e., the audience). Without consideration of how their performance will be seen and heard, it will fall flat. There’s no way around that.

Now actors, here is my advice to you.

Know your text. Know your character. Do your homework. It’s not just memorizing your lines and thinking, “How am I going to say this line?” No. That’s the sure way to C-minus acting. You know (or should know) you have to understand your character’s motivations, objectives, obstacles, tactics and relationships to all the other characters. All of those things affect your performance and you know (or should know) that. The choices you make must be realistic and true to the text.

Make your choices active, solid, clear, and as powerful as you can.

Then, pay close attention to where and how you stand (sit, walk, enter, exit, etc.) and do everything with your body. This translates to how you will be seen. Then, pay attention to your diction, your volume, your accent (as appropriate) and everything you do with your voice. This translates to how you will be heard. The choices you make with your body and your voice must be realistic and believable. To whom? You guessed it: to the audience.

Your job is make them, your audience, believe you.

The True Value of The Skeptic

Because the audience is making their own choices, too.

They may not choose believe you automatically. At best, they will come in with at least part of their disbelief suspended. In this case, we must do everything within our power to allow and enable them to keep it suspended.

And sometimes, they may come in as the skeptic, full of doubt, maybe even full of disbelief. That is where our challenge lies, to make active, powerful and clear choices, to make them believe you.

Especially if they choose to be skeptical.

The more skeptical the audience is, the harder we have to work. The harder we work, the better we do our job. The better we do our job, the better we are for the art.

So here’s to you, Mr. Facebook Rant, our skeptical audience. Thank you for making us great.

[Diane Mashia has been recognized four times by the Theatre Association of New York State for Excellence in Directing. At the state-wide TANYS Festival last fall, her production Feeding the Moonfish was honored with Best Overall Production Design and Execution. In April, Feeding the Moonfish won Outstanding Production First Place at the Eastern States Theatre Association Festival competition in La Plata, MD. Next month, Feeding the Moonfish will go on compete in the American Association of Community Theatre national festival competition in Grand Rapids, MI; the first community theater organization from Rochester, NY to ever have this distinction. Donations are now being accepted to help fund the project. To lend your support, you can make a contribution via PayPal at donate@blacksheeptheatre.org, or contact info@blacksheeptheatre.org for more information. Your generosity and support are most appreciated!]