An Open Letter To The Esteemed Director of “a seagull,” Rebecca Lingafelter (As Well As The Cast Members, Those Involved In PCS Presents, And Other Supporters of Portland Experimental Theater Ensemble, And Other Access Artists),
June 28 2024
[Content notice, may include production spoilers.]
It is my hope that this letter will be read in the tone of Anton Chekhov, the famous Russian playwright at the turn of the last century, writing a note to director Konstantin Stanislavski. Please indulge my lofty air of self-importance that two colleagues who share mutual respect may use when engaging one another. Perhaps, though, a letter from Vsevolod Meyerhold to Stanislavski would be a more apt analogy. Meyerhold, the experimental creative counterpoint of Stanislavski’s realism was put to death during one of Stalin’s purges. If I am Meyerhold in this simulation, however, let’s hope the current political climate in the US doesn’t lead me to a similar end. For those who know me, apologies for my flowery words. This style is not very accessible, but it’s a joy to mimic.
Congratulations on last night’s opening preview of Portland Experimental Theater Ensemble’s contemporary translation of Chekhov’s classic “The Seagull.” I am deeply moved by the intimacy created with technology between the actors, characters, and audience. Why, some might ask, might a company do a play so old and faded with time? Well, you answer, because our enduring love of theater — and the impossible drive to strive for what we may never become — is worth it. And always new. And beautiful.
Though one may think theater artists talking about their own work causes this production to make seductive glances in the direction of the solipsistic, I found it to be deeply heartfelt and connective.
Let me lay to rest the important question posed to the audience last night by Jacob Coleman as Trigorin and say with great confidence that the entire cast and crew were all the most sexy ones. I must also give mention to the incredible eroticism of the transitions between acts.
My brow still furrows, however, over the disappointingly dated choices I see PETE continue to make, especially in a production who repeatedly voices hunger to care for the audience. Why, I wonder, are there no captions nor audio description in a show with so much technology? In the first few lines of vital exposition after Christi Miles’ virtuosic opening, the folks using the production mic were barely audible. Further, had I not absentmindedly worn my sunglasses on my head into the theater I would have been quite sad to avert my eyes for an entire act to avoid staring directly into fluorescent lights. To boot, given the contemporary vogue of content notices, I’m befuddled why a there was not note pointing out that the play included suicidality, addiction, and direct lighting. A simple, clever content notice in marketing, ticketing, and posted in the lobby would have at least informed me to these matters. Thank goodness the extraordinary performance by Ken Yoshikawa included a content notice moments before his character ultimately offs himself. I’ve always felt his character did so because of the pain of living in a world where his artistic hopes are unrealized.
Contemporary theatrical conventions are inherited from generations of industrialization, standardization of the body, and presuming who is welcome to participate in culture. On occasion, I have referred to American theater as a site of Eugenic Cultural Design due to the ways non-white, non-middle class, and non-Disabled people are excluded by design. In 2020, many theater professionals offered full-throated, widespread commitment to change. While I see these commitments recede to business as usual, I know much more is possible. Where is a low sensory room? Why aren’t earplugs available? No masking policy? Why doesn’t your company appear to want a blind costume designer friend to come enjoy a performance that lacks creative audio description of Jenny Ampersand’s ever-exceptional costumes?
I have experienced firsthand how much of academia and leadership of major institutions are resistant to accessibility becoming a core aesthetic principle. Funders must also do better. I know full well how many professors are loathe to consider a content notice. I mainly attribute this to a deficit of creativity. Though these features open an opportunity to create New Forms of beautiful theaters and beautiful audiences, the old guard in this country reviles accessibility to art as ugly, unworthy, expensive, and obstructing the True Forms. This, of course, mirrors our culture’s characterization of marginalized people in the same way. To be clear, a hollow single-night of unrehearsed audio description, captions, or ASL are no substitute for a show that designs with these elements from the beginning. PETE can do better.
When I see productions of The Seagull, I often measure its success by how long I want to live in the world of Treplev’s weird experimental play for his family and friends in the opening act. Indeed, I longed to dwell with that celestial phantasmagoria for 200,000 years. Breathtaking, hilarious. Maureen’s guidance as Arkadina to Amber’s Nina were wrenching, like watching a butcher lead a lamb (or Seagull rather) to slaughter. I have never cared so deeply for Dorn, Roo Welsh’s gifts abound. Treplev was such a tragic hunk, and Ken’s acting was as heartfelt as it was transcendent. Damaris Webb’s work as Paulina brought her often marginalized character into unforgettable three-dimensionality. Rebecca, I am very proud to know you and for the work the whole company has achieved. Like Chekhov, I miss being backstage (and, speaking for myself, onstage) in an industry I have often been alienated from on the basis of my disabilities.
Last night, before the show began, you mentioned that Treplyv was trying a new ending. I’m unclear if your he was reading the script because it was a preview and he was still new to the text. May I be so bold as to express a hope that he keeps those papers in his hand during his final monologue? As a metaphor for our lives, I think the times call for us to remember that we are reciting scripts. Some of which are old and dusty. Some of which are new, and a great risk. How we choose to make meaning, together, from the scripts or texts we read from is the matter of the day.
We are on the precipice of cultural change in how art is made. It is already happening, and few professionals realize it. Many resist it, even unconsciously. Accessibility is the future of art and culture, and I am hopeful PETE will join in this change. Wishing you a stellar run. I look forward to participating on the “New Forms” panel with Jonathan Paradox prior to your performance on July 10th. Thank you again for the invitation.
With utmost respect to you and yours,
Grant Miller
Access Artist, CEO
The Curiosity Paradox
PS, Please know that I would be thrilled to offer further discussion of these ideas with you. Or perhaps collaborate with your company one day. If you, or anyone reading this would like to invite me to coffee to talk about these matters further, I will almost certainly accept. As a further digression, I also hope PETE will someday create a production in which myself and others can enjoy audiencing from the comforts of a theater fashioned with beds, couches, and bathtubs.
