Back Off, Man. I'm an Artist

Originally posted on www.cbtheatre.org

Stories come in a variety of media. We have novels, films, music, poetry. Each has a unique voice, and the subdivisions of genre present flavors and styles unrepresented by any of the others. There are many stories and so many ways to tell them, thus all art of reputable quality asks the question, “Why this story, in this style?” Why stage a classic when you could simply read the classic? If you want to watch Star Trek, why not just watch Star Trek?

The snappy answer is that we, as a culture, have run out of new ideas. A more considered opinion is this: a story is just as important as the way in which we choose to tell it. Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree would be the same story without the illustrations, but adding those pictures allows us to appreciate it in a way we cannot with words alone. My nephews could read it for themselves, but it becomes more enjoyable when they crawl into my mother’s lap (like I used to do) and she reads it aloud.

As we put this play together, I’m continually reminded of words offered by Our Fearless Leader Eric Van Tassell on the first day of rehearsal. He said we aren’t simply a bunch of fans of the franchise who got together and decided to put on a play (yes, we know that no one is “simply” a fan of anything, but that’s a point for another time). Don’t get me wrong; we are certainly fans of the franchise. Even those of us who weren’t before this year certainly are now; for example, one of my castmates watched the entirety of The Next Generation this summer, and is currently trucking his way through every episode of Deep Space Nine.

Trek fans are many things, but as Eric pointed out that day, those of us involved in this production are also professional artists. We are actors, directors, designers, choreographers. We are all storytellers, experienced and trained and talented, who are molding the clay of our source materials into a living piece of art that will reinvigorate our audience’s appreciation for both Dickens and Roddenberry.

Every rehearsal over the past week starts like it does for any other production. First comes the table work; we sit and read a scene and discuss its importance within the context of the play. Every character’s motivation is represented and examined. We take a close look at every thread, scrutinizing the strength and quality to ensure the tapestry as a whole remains strong. This is usually capped with Eric reading the relevant chapter from the original Dickens tale, which helps remind us of the original tone.

Naturally we also explore Klingon perspective. What does it mean through the eyes of this culture? How is SQuja’ expected to behave with honor, and how is he failing? What lessons does he need to learn, and what does this scene teach him?

Once all avenues of intellectual exploration are explored, the scene goes on its feet. Eric structures one stage picture after another. Logistical issues of scene shifts are solved. Character relationships are explored through physicality and use of the dialog. Finally the whole framework of the scene is constructed, and we leave it to marinade in our individual and collective subconscious until we explore it again.

Why should you come and see this play? Why not just read the book, or rent one of the film treatments? Why blend two different stories together into one? You may as well ask why we mixed chocolate and peanut butter. Because it is awesome.

But, of course, that’s a snappy answer. The more considered response is this: each treatment allows a story to breathe fresh life as it is experienced by a new audience. It’s given a new perspective as the storytellers analyze and interpret through their own voices. Moreover; one of the best ways to experience one culture is through the eyes of another; the other, in this case, being a different aspect of that same culture. In this way we’re taking a deep look at ourselves, pitting two stories against one another and finding the common threads between them in an attempt to highlight our humanity, our values, and our capacity for change.

We do this as artists. We do this as fans. We do this to honor and keep alive the spirits of those who came before us – they who enriched our own lives with stories – and to pass their stories on to another generation that has evolved alongside the rest of our culture.

Opening December 1^st. Get your tickets now.