March 17, 2010

AT25: An Eye on the Future

Steven Ginsburg, co-artistic director, HartBeat Ensemble, Hartford, Conn.

In 25 years no space is safe from theatre.
It happens anywhere.
It happens because we crave live connection beyond the digital saturation.
It happens in traffic.

Julie and her friends drive toward Broad and Oak, the intersection where StopLight Theatre frequently performs. A 20-foot cow appears.

"What's up with that cow?"
Who's the first to figure out what StopLight is doing?
"It's two actors on stilts."
"They're trying to cage it...."
"The animal rights provision. In the new farm bill!"
"Damn, how'd you know that?"

Victorious, Julie smiles, throwing money into StopLight's collection tub.

It happens in garages.

Tonight DoubleHop Theatre plays in Deshawn's garage. Fatima drops 10 bucks and enters. Deshawn places a DoubleHop homebrew into her hand as she squeezes into an eager audience. The show begins with the hypnotic melodies of a live string quartet, blurring into the chaotic apartment of the shoplifting Italian housewives, Dario Fo's We Can't Pay! We Won't Pay! Afterwards Fatima is whisked into Deshawn's bedroom for a DoubleHop encore performance. A marionette Robin Hood plays off of the loft bed.

It happens at work.

It's almost lunch. Donald's stomach rumbles and he wonders what the lunchtime theatre will be. He checks his e-mail:
Commedia del tête! Lunchroom—$10—"Hold onto Your Sandwich,*" a 30-minute ride through corporate America!
*Sandwich Included

Carlos and Tonya meet Donald at five minutes to twelve. They enter the lunchroom, grab their sandwiches and beeline for choice seats. Commedia del tête's rib-tickling ride includes a musical number stressing the scarcity of office supplies, a clown copy machine routine, and a classic clumsy and clueless boss bit.

Best half-hour at work—ever.

It happens when we invite it in.

Marcus and Jasmine are out cruisin'. They approach the abandoned drive-in. Marcus slips in for a quiet place to make out. To their surprise it's full of cars. Intrigued, they pay 20 bucks to see what BackSeat Theatre is all about. Marcus and Jasmine pull into their spot. Actors begin to rotate in and out of their car, unraveling a complex murder mystery in a series of minute-long scenes.

In 25 years public and private spaces blur, making stages of 18-wheelers, elevators, fields, basements, rooftops, train cars, dining rooms, airports, parks and ferries.

Theatre, alive with human connection, is at every turn.

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