Looking at Online Performances, From a Director's Perspective
Bekah Harbison
Since early April, I’ve been “that director friend.” You know the one I mean: the one with the endless promotions for online project after online project. The one who wants you to be a part of that virtual reading or who reached out to you to audition for an online summer production. You see the pictures on social media from our Zoom rehearsals or hear me talk on FaceTime about the hurdles we’re overcoming. You might think “I already know what she thinks about online performances; she’s clearly a staunch advocate.” The truth is more complicated.
The theatre world currently seems to be divided into two distinct camps. One side is deeply opposed to the idea of virtual shows. Some will even go as far as to say that it “isn’t art.” After all, there’s no physical interaction, no collective energy, no audience in the room with you.
The other side seems thrilled at the prospect of online performances and enthusiastically encourages anyone and everyone to do them. Someone told me once “anyone who isn’t doing shows online when they have the opportunity must not really love theatre.” I can see the logic. If someone really loves performing or directing in person, why wouldn’t they take the opportunity to do the same thing, just online?
Because it isn’t the same thing.
Many of the things believed by those who oppose virtual shows are true. Our inability to share a space together is terrible. It’s inconvenient, it’s exhausting, and it’s painful. There’s no amount of creativity or positivity or hard work that will change that. So much of what I, and many others, love about theatre is how different it is from other art forms like film or TV. “The smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd” - literally. The energy between actors, the energy between the performers and the audience, the way a moment hits when you’re just a few feet away from those performing - none of that can be duplicated.
Many of us are experiencing one of the most stressful times of our lives. Everything is different. It makes total sense to me why many people don’t want to be a part of a show that has turned their idea of “theatre” on its head.
There are, however, some things you can duplicate through a computer screen. A sense of community is one of them. While I don’t think any of my virtual casts have gotten as close as they would have had we produced the same project in person, there have certainly been friendships I’ve watched develop in rehearsals over Zoom. There are actors who are close now that weren’t before they started.
Some theatre people whose circles consist of theatre people need an excuse to spend time with fellow performers right now. We have to be extra conscious to make an effort to include technicians who may not have comparable roles in online shows and to include those who might have accessibility challenges.
Almost all of us have had at least one show pulled out from under us this year. Basically everyone has something they are missing out on this summer, theatre-related or not. Partially filling that void is one purpose that virtual rehearsals and performances can serve. I’ve gotten texts from parents saying “thanks for helping pull my teenager out of their funk” and “I haven’t seen my child smile this much since March”.
Since quarantine started, I have personally been in better places emotionally immersed in online projects than without them. I’ve also got an enormous amount of gratitude from performers of all ages who just need something to sink their teeth into.
I’m also seeing a lot of performers developing skills they might not have had before. There are performers who are more willing to take risks without the pressure of an in-person room. Many people are more willing to try things in the comfort of their own homes and with the understanding, they may get more than one take. Once those performers see what they truly are capable of, that growth will make for better performers and better theatre once we are able to perform in person again.
I see lots of people argue that regardless of the personal impact, “virtual theatre just isn’t good.” Most of these people tuned into something briefly and disliked what they saw. It’s true, there’s a lot of poorly produced virtual theatre. There’s also a lot of poorly produced in-person theatre, you just don’t have the option to watch 2 minutes of it from the comfort of your couch and then move on.
It’s also important to take into account that many of us at the helm of these projects are not used to being digital content creators; we’re used to being theatre-makers. For some people, this is a reason not to participate and that makes sense to me. That being said, the learning curve for the community as a whole has been enormous. If you haven’t watched a virtual project since April, I encourage you to check out something this month and see if it changes your opinion. I’m seeing, more and more over time, that performers are able to create impressive artistic moments on screen. In the same way that a movie might bring you to tears, I’ve been brought to tears by a collection of well-executed cell phone videos.
To be clear, this is just something to hold us over. I don’t know any theatre professionals who are advocating that we don’t resume doing in-person shows once it’s safe to do so. I would give anything to safely be in a theatre with a cast of 60. I certainly don’t want my creative outlet or professional endeavors to be blocking and editing cell phone videos forever, regardless of how well-executed they are. But it’s something. And for me, that “something” is better than nothing.
There aren’t right or wrong answers here and that’s my point. If virtual performance or production is something that interests you, I encourage you to take part. If that sounds like something that isn’t your cup of tea, I respect that entirely. But there’s no reason to imply that anyone isn’t a real theatre maker because of that choice.
It’s not right to tell those who are not producing things online that they just don’t care enough. There’s no reason to approach those pouring their heart and soul into making online shows happen to tell them they are wasting their time. My time hasn’t been wasted; it’s up to you if online shows are a good use of yours.