The Analogy Illuminates Which Side of the Casino You're Standing On
Dave & Buster's is like a low rent casino.
You come in through the revolving door, get sent up the escalator and have the option of a meal (which, no matter what you order is going to sit in your gut like a Nerf Football - even the salads make you feel like you consumed your daily caloric intake for a week) or go and purchase your token card to be able to play any one of the hundreds of electronic games. No one goes to Dave & Buster's for the food so you will always end up playing.
The games you play begin to define you in some subtle way.
There are really two types of games you can play here: the games that eat your credits up and offer no external reward but the fun of riding a souped up motorcycle through a canyon or shooting zombie heads or flying in an X-wing fighter and the games of chance that offer the reward of tickets that can be exchanged for low grade stuffed animals to plastic peppermills to portable DVD players.
My nine year old niece likes to play for the tickets. In fact, her fun is almost dictated by the number of tickets she accrues over the course of her time there. I don't judge her too harshly - she's nine and my niece, so her young, carnivorous capitalism is sort of funny in a Lord of the Flies way, I guess. I'm the sort who likes to play the games and often, if there are tickets involved, I have to be reminded to get them before I move on to the next game. My fun is about the experience of battling pixelated monsters and assisting the digital police as the hostage saving sniper cop.
Mike D. thinks that the analogy of the Theater Artist and the Poker Player is "dumb." He thinks it lacks any illumination of the world he lives in. He is probably right as his defining characteristic as an artist is that he plays for the tickets. Certainly, I think it is safe to assume that Mike plays for the fun sometimes, but his work and his words indicate that for him this game is about the tickets. Scott Walters is very, VERY focused on getting those tickets for his students and making sure that everyone knows that the myth of Dave & Buster's isn't that the tickets ultimately get you very little in the end, but that there are other places that you can acquire tickets in the country.
For Mike and Scott and a lot of others, the games are about the acquisition of tickets rather than the experience of playing. I have no doubt whatsoever that both will deny that this is so (and Scott will take on the beleaguered tone of a man with the best intentions being sullied by the close-minded), that they both feel that the tickets are just a much needed element that is missing from the game but remember that the types of games are different. Those of us who play the non-ticket spitting games have the choice to play the ones that provide us with plastic reward and choose not to play them.
I realized, while going from game to game with my niece, that trying to explain to her that it wasn't really about the tickets or the stuff was a task as great as trying to convince Myra that live theater was just better than the movies. She will either figure out that for herself or she won't - the best I can do is to keep playing the games that bring me pleasure and when she gets tired of plastic crap, she might try it my way once. And she might not like it and decide to no longer play games at Dave & Buster's and go do something else with her money and time. And then Mike could write an article in The Stranger about her, too.
The one thing she will never be able to do, however, is convince me that a $0.99 Scooby Doo keychain is worth $6.00 in tickets so I should put my focus on getting tickets rather than playing the game.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
What Are You Playing For?
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15 comments:
I guess the distinction I would make is whether you are playing a game for the fun of it, or whether you really want to make it a career. If you for some reason really, really needed that plastic pepper mill in your life... like, because it would make your sick kid better or something... then you would worry more about getting those tickets.
I know it's an absurd example, but I'm using it because this is where I think the "game" analogy falls apart. Perhaps it's just that you and Mike/Scott are different kinds of artists. You have the perspective of a really, really passionate and knowledgeable hobbyist. I don't by any means intend that in a denigrating way, as I would consider you a theatre professional, even though you don't make your living at it - just as I see myself that way. But there comes a point when you decide whether you are someone who is doing something in your free time, at your own expense, just for the love of it, as a bonus on top of your "regular" life. Mike and Scott, on the other hand, are similarly passionate and knowledgeable but want the same activity to be their actual careers. Something that brings in money instead of just costing it. I have spent many years working just for the love of the work, and I literally just cannot do it as much as I used to, for a lot of reasons. Maybe you think that means that as an artist I'm just not tough enough to hack it. But I always thought it would get at least a little easier if I paid my dues; that eventually it would be a bit easier to do what I loved. And here I am ten years later still paying the exact same dues. It doesn't get easier for many theatre artists. And it should, if they are talented and hard-working, at least a little.
There are people in lots of fields that carve careers out of something they love. If a child care worker really, really loves taking care of other people's kids all day, are we going to tell her that since she got into it for the love of the kids, she should not expect a living wage for it?
Laura, I see your point, and I've been troubled by the number of talented artists who get out of the field because it simply isn't possible to do art on the side while also making a living, raising a family, taking care of elderly parents, etc. But I think your last sentence is problematic inasmuch as it seems to conflate the necessary with the optional. Child care is an absolute social need -- kids can't take care of themselves, the social costs of not providing decent child care are borne by all of us in higher drop-out rates, juvenile crime, perpetuating poverty for another generation, etc.
But even though we know that childcare is vitally important, a lot of childcare workers don't make what most people would consider living wages. Neither do people who work as home healthcare workers or in nursing homes. Why? Because despite all the flowery rhetoric about how taking care of others is the most rewarding work in the world, the chronically ill, old people, and kids don't count in this society, because they usually don't have wealth, they don't work, they don't pay taxes and don't vote. By most metrics in this country, they barely exist as a constituency. Therefore, the people who take care of them don't count for much, either. Which is sickening, of course, but I don't see a strong national will to change that viewpoint.
But there isn't a demonstrable social need for every piece of art that someone decides to create -- that is, it's hard to argue that every artist deserves a living wage because they are providing something that, in its absence, will cause demonstrable social harm. I obviously think that art matters -- even if it's only for the therapeutic value and solace its creation provides the person behind it, it's worth something to at least one person.
But asking a society that doesn't expend much money on childcare for indigent kids and old folks to view art as a necessity doesn't seem like a way to make the case for increasing fiscal support for the arts -- "We barely have enough money to take care of kids and old folks and now you think we should be subsidizing able-bodied adults who chose to go into a chronically overcrowded, underfunded field?" I know you're not claiming that artists are helpless in the same way as children or old folks, but I think that's the inevitable conclusion many will draw.
Of course, I'm unsure what arguments will be persuasive in getting Americans to understand why we need more public funding that finds its way directly into the pockets of those who create the work.
Kerry,
That's a great point. I think my mistake was in the selection of my example. I wasn't meaning to address the social necessity of theatre at all (although that is GREAT topic highly worth discussion, too). I was just trying to throw out an example of someone in a career they might love to do - so for my purposes it could really be anything. I know someone who just really loves his jobs as a Starbucks barista - not, strictly speaking, a social necessity type of job, but my point is just that even though he loves his job, he wouldn't show up for it if they didn't pay him. Perhaps not even much pay. But he's not a volunteer. That's all I meant to say.
Don- c'mon. If Mike was in it for the tickets he wouldn't be playing this game. This analogy is worse than the poker one, and i think you're about to get your ass handed to you.
The essential difference is: tickets don't help you play the game, but money does help you make theatre. If our art is generating some income, then we can spend more time and effort on our art and less time on our day jobs. As a producer, if your company is generating money, then it can afford to make better theatre in so many ways. Making better theatre, with more talented and dedicated people and larger audiences is a much more fun game.
I don't play video games, and i don't make theatre for fun, but i don't expect other people to adopt my reasons for making theatre (they're based on some pretty crackpot political theories) but regardless of why you're making theatre, your goals will be better realized if you've got money coming in.
More money = better theatre?
Jesus, when did that become an absolute? Then again, if it can make my smile brighter, my hair fuller, and my dick bigger, why not my art, too?
I long for the day when I can pump that shit directly into my soul.
Winsome, only the most unimaginative and untalented twits need money to make theatre. For the rest, necessity is the mother of invention. More often than not money comes with strings attached. These strings are attached securely to the theatre’s testicles. That’s why so many of the moneyed productions coming from TCG theatres are such Nutless Wonders, entertainments meant to please all and offend none.
Paul and Nic- i know those things as well as you do. I've created 5 years worth of theatre on little to no budget in a town that'd rather cry about Brett Farve over a beer or six at one of the million bars than go out to see a show.
I've shunned money with strings attached, i've gotten creative, I've put on theatre in the street, in an old pharmacy, in basements, bars and nightclubs. i've built coffee can clip lights and home-made dimmers. i've hung myself off a lamp post for a buck so i'd not have to beg the bourgeoisie for it.
If you're telling me that having a little more money wouldn't remove barriers to your productions and let you do better art and have more fun, then you're lying to someone, either me or yourself. If you're saying you'd rather not pay actors and techs, then you shouldn't be surprised or bitter when your most talented people depart for greener pastures.
I agree with Growtowski that rich theatre is rich in flaws, and with you that the most vibrant theatre is happening outside the moneyed productions, but, c'mon, Don's post here is not only insulting it's also misleading. Money is not skeeball tickets.
Every theatre production costs at least some money, and getting that money back, or making a little extra to give people who've spent their time on the production, or to put toward future productions is essential to making something sustainable. If sustainability is not a goal, then you are not involved in art, you are involved in a hobby.
R -
Sustainability has less to do with money and more to do with intent.
And the post isn't equating tickets to money but the pursuit of tickets to the pursuit of money. Small distinction but an important one.
sure intent and commitment are more important to sustainability, but sustainability does have SOMETHING to do with money, does it not?
The money vs pursuit of money distinction makes your analogy only a little less absurd. NO ONE DOING THEATRE IS IN IT FOR THE MONEY! Mike Daisy, Scott Walters, NO ONE. Money is a means to an end for all artists. Art as a means to money as an end is obviously a VERY POOR INVESTMENT.
I'm not saying we oughta compromise, or try and work within the framework of the obviously broken non-profit model, that we're entitled to anything, or that arts administrators oughta change their evil ways for our benefit. I'm saying it is imperitive that we FIND ANOTHER WAY.
Washing our hands of the entire economic question just cuz it's hard is irresponsible. Insulting anyone who's not sacrificing themselves for their art only perpetuates the capitalist myth of the starving artist, the man who is a martyr to his vision. This myth ultimately makes your work into a deadly commodity after you're gone, instead of a shared experience during your life. Stop buying into it, and open your minds to learning from someone who's found a way around it.
Everything i've seen from Mike Daisy suggests that his monologues are un-commodifiable, his work uncompromising, and his company as alternative as anything else i've seen. If some parts of HTFA seem to smack of entitlement, then ignore them, do as he does, not as he says.
Winsome,
It’s obvious that many of us have already FOUND ANOTHER WAY. Alternative theatres produce infinitely more theatre than fully funded regional theatres.
Your notion that money equals quality is whack. Celebrity and popularity also do not equate with quality. These are status gauges employed by the dominant culture but nothing more.
We might ask theatre to examine the difference between an audience and fandom, between box office and community.
Of course there are types of theatre you need money to produce. Who cares? There are also blockbuster movies. So if you want to make a blockbuster, this is America, go hustle the money for it and quit whining. Likewise with the type of theatre you wish to produce.
Winsome said:
Everything i've seen from Mike Daisy suggests that his monologues are un-commodifiable, his work uncompromising, and his company as alternative as anything else i've seen. If some parts of HTFA seem to smack of entitlement, then ignore them, do as he does, not as he says.
Agreed, except that Mike has to be held accountable for what he says as well as what he does, as do we all. My only problem all along was how false HFTA the essay (and PR) was to HFTA the monologue and performance.
i do not have a notion that money equals quality. That is the gloss surface of the argument that you paint onto my position to avoid the intersection of art and money. When you mix it with celebrity and popularity to make a thoroughly disgusting swath of shit that you're trying to smear on me, it becomes clear you're reacting to a sensative topic. If you paint everyone who tries to confront a problem you don't wanna face with shit before responding to them, then we're never going to get anywhere.
I don't know how to prove my street cred (wish i didn't have to) but trust me, i'm a fucking artist and i'm not trying to make a hollywood blockbuster.
I am trying to make theatre on the cheap, and i'm succeeding at that (so are you, hooray us!) but, if our theatre is going to get big enough to drag the medium out of the bog that the big theatres have driven it into, if we're going to get Don's hairdresser out to see a show, THEN WE HAVE TO DO MORE AND BETTER. Financial sustainability and economic responsibility HAVE to be a part of that.
Last i checked nails and fabric cost money. Renting spaces costs money. Printing promotional materials costs money. Taking a show on tour is gonna cost money. The bare essentials of producing art are not free. We might be able to get them donated, or steal them from our dayjobs sometimes, but there's a limit to how much you can do with scraps, and there's a limit to how much time we can put in searching though dumpsters for props. If the couple hundred dollars i spent putting together the show i'm doing now, with a cardboard set, found props, and every possible corner cut to keep costs low is too extravagant, too hollywood, then you must be doing some amazingly "pure" stuff. I'd love to be enlightened.
Chill, dude. You’re getting really hyper on this. You keep saying that I must have a problem with the money thing. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
I have worked with big money and no money in theatre, depending on the project and those involved. Quality is found somewhere other than in the finances. The art form of Theatre is not going to save America or itself with money.
Like I said, if you need money for your theatre, go hussle it like the big theatres do. Go get your donors and grants and what have you. Learn how to play poker. That’s what our little theatre does. We produce theatre at every part of the financial spectrum from shantytown to institutional to Off-Broadway. But money is never the element that makes or breaks our productions or their quality or ultimate worth. To me that is what you term “financial sustainability and economic responsibility.”
Money = time. That's it. I've been doing underground/alternative/experimental/whatever you want to call it theatre for long enough to not idealize being poor. The "poor theater" Grotowski was talking about still involved paying the artists. I do not believe that because my theatre company has survived on frugality & a freakishly intense work ethic, we will suddenly become toddlers if we receive more money. We want to survive and contribute to society, and if we don't get paid more soon, we won't. It's that simple.
We have been collaborating with German theatre artists for the last year. The government hands them their salary, facility, and their general mandate. This affects the character and ambition of the artist and the work. Not all of the effects are positive when placed in comparison to the American artist as represented by my theatre peers.
I think the necessity of a day job helps keep us humble. Even so it’s still easy to become full of ourselves just being the “artistes,” those o’ so noble and grand explorers, teachers, and arbitrators of the human spirit and condition.
I also believe that the scrambling for finances installs an entrepreneurial spirit in our lives and art. And I have come to appreciate not just the work of creating art, but also necessity to create the context for that work and art in my life as well as in the larger culture.
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