From the C-T
BG--
Review: “A Number” is dynamite drama
The small, downtown North Carolina Stage Company's house is usually configured as a thrust stage, with audience on three sides. When deciding to do Caryl Churchill's quite unusual and riveting script “A Number,” director Ron Bashford chose to reconfigure the conventional stage into theater-in-the-round by adding a row of seats at the back of the customary 'stage.'
This logistical discussion is a conscious and blatant ploy to avoid any revelation of the astonishing plot. It's all about the emergence of a longheld family secret involving a single-parent father and three - or more - sons. And, therein is the secret. Out of consideration for future audiences, we'll avoid a discussion of the startling script, thus revealing the big surprises in store for those who get to see this intriguing show.
The power of this plot is strong enough to rely on fine acting, alone. The set is simply an oval, tiled floor. No backdrop nor decoration. The scenery, as created by Don Baker, is only two stylized chairs and a patio chair-side table. No props needed. Clothing, not costumes, conceived by Deborah Austin, appears so comfortable and unconscious that it could it could be from each actors own closet, although most is not.
Even the lighting by Sarah Elliott is monochromatically off-white, and the sound design by Hans Meyer is tuneless and without melody, but effectively creates or sustains a feeling, a mood and an aural context. It's all very simple, basic, essential to the complexity of this challenging story-line.
Okay, it's the writing and the acting that carry the show – and carry it a long distance, indeed. It's performed all within an intense, condensed, concentrated and distilled hour and ten minutes, without intermission. And the acting is done by two awesome actors. Graham Smith, a mainstay of the Charlotte area stage, portrays Salter, a single father, and NCSC co-founder Charles McIver creates his several sons. The sons are identified in the program by names and ages. But that only complicates the story. Go figure.
British-Canadian playwright Churchill's “A Number” is a dynamite drama. It's not light entertainment, but solid and significant stuff that will send you away thinking about science and identity, ethics and moral inquiry. And thinking far into the night, for sure.
Jim Cavener reviews theater for take5.
21 April 2009
A Number
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Please be warned that the following review contains what many will consider significant spoilers. You may want to consider reading this one *after* seeing the show...
BG--
A Number by British playwright Caryl Churchill has an intriguing, bioethics premise. A man in his mid-thirties discovers he's a clone, made to order for his father to duplicate an earlier son.
What happened to the original son? Did he die in an automobile accident when he was four, as the man's father first tells him? Or is this "older brother" still alive? What happened to his mother? Did she die in childbirth as he grew up believing? Did she die in the accident, if there were an accident?
These are some of the questions that grab our attention at the outset of A Number and hold it throughout a 75-minute, multi-scene one-act. Others arise. Why did dad want an exact copy of a previous son? What will happen if two identical sons meet?
Adding to the man's bewilderment and fury - and hinting at new plot complexities only lightly touched at the end - son and father learn the scientist who performed the procedure may have created as many as 19 more copies. All this comes to light when the scientist's lab records are opened after his death.
The answers to the son's and our questions are gradually, if not fully, revealed in a series of charged confrontations between son and father, nimbly played by Charlie Flynn-McIver and Graham Smith in a North Carolina Stage Company production tightly directed by Ron Bashford. If Churchill doesn't really probe complex socio-ethical implications of human cloning, she gives a good account of how discovering one's true biological origins as an adult might mess up your mind.
"Who am I really? Why did you deceive me? Did you really love me for myself?" The man's accusations could have been the same if he learned he were adopted or a twin separated at birth. The nature vs. nurture issues also don't seem that much different with twins raised separately or 20 genetically identical copies. What the scientist hoped to achieve with his human factory farming, or how he managed to keep so many births secret or find so many surrogate mothers, is never explored.
Neither father nor son ask the socio-bioethical questions Churchill might think she was writing about or audiences might anticipate hearing. So A Number becomes something of a medical technology thriller. (Michael Crighton would have written this as a novel and then directed the movie. Maybe he did.)
Mostly A Number is a classic angry-child-betrayed-by-conniving-parent story. Electra and Clytemnestra or Hamlet and Gertrude, without the murders. Which doesn't diminish the play. Oedipus is a family-secrets thriller too. "What's going to happen when Oedipus finds out who his real father is?"
Unlike those Greeks and Elizabethans, with their ton of backstory, we never learn anything about these two men. What their other relationships are, for example, or what they do for a living, remain as mysterious as the father's true motivation in ordering a clone. Was the truthful version of why he did it the first or the second? Or neither. Churchill is a true Pinter child - though not clone - and thus a grandchild of Beckett, with her ambiguous, elliptical characters, existing only in the present, in a barely defined place, talking to, around, and past each other. Talking ambiguously and elliptically. Is she as good as Pinter? Well, not even Pinter was always as good as Pinter.
The play's power depends on the actors and the director deeply involving us in the plight of the two men. Bashford puts them in the middle of the audience, in a kind of circular sparring rink which might be the father's porch or patio. As conceived by designer Don Baker, there's a minimum of realistic detail: two metal lattice chairs, an empty metal table off to one side, a tile floor.
Bashford gives his actors a minimum of realistic detail as well. They pace, they sit, they spring up, the son pours and drinks a few slugs of whiskey, the father ties his shoe. Whether this deliberate austerity draws you in or distances you will depend on how intellectually engaging you find the issues or how emotionally convincing you find the actors.
The spartan staging also gives the production a ritual vibe. No, father and son won't be returning to this bare place night after night to square off forever, Gogo and Didi-style. But Bashford moves his actors away from everyday domestic drama into a slightly higher realm.
In the opening, for example, Flynn-McIver, the company's artistic director and lead actor, and Smith, a Charlotte actor, are glowering at each other in frozen intensity when the moody musical overture cuts out abruptly and the lights fade up. Bashford and lighting designer Sarah Elliot repeat the image for most of the play's scenes, with a complementary freeze-and-fade at scene endings. It's a stately progression.
Similarly, Flynn-McIver and Smith never really talk conversationally or even argue with less than controlled fervor. Some of this has to do with the way Churchill's English characters always express themselves in well-shaped phrases, even if not always in complete sentences. There's something very upper-middle-class English about these men, even though Bashford has not specified a locale though setting, behavior or accent. Smith's accent is faintly British, Flynn-McIver's is well-spoken American. Bashford is a master of accents, so he clearly hasn't chosen to tell us anything about these characters and where they live by the way they speak. It comes as a surprise when you hear about a pub and a Tube train.
Adding to the ritual stateliness is Bashford's handling of one of Churchill's dialogue quirks. The playwright has each character continually leave a thought uncompleted (there's those ellipses). Should the other character wait to see how the speaker might finish? Or should he speak over the last few words, interrupting and preventing him from finishing, as people do in real life, especially when they're in conflict? Bashford goes for the first.
While A Number may not make you think much about cloning, it may make you think about fathers and sons. And this admirable production should make you think about what good actors and a good director do.
- Aaron Hill
For readers' general info: the text of Churchill's play is startling to look at because of its complete lack of visual descriptions or stage directions and near complete lack of punctuation and capitalization.
OK, I've tried twice, unsuccessfully, to post a link to the Mountain Xpress review. So I'll try to paste the whole thing.
Two cheers for A Number at N.C. Stage
By Steven Samuels on 04/20/2009
British playwright Caryl Churchill has never made art easy for herself, her actors and directors, or her audiences. Possessor of a restless intellect, a historian’s reach, a psychologist’s penetration, a moralist’s demands, a poet’s voice, and a master dramatist’s stunning theatricality, she can’t stand still, let alone pat. A name to reckon with internationally for the 30 years since the premiere of her best-known work, Cloud Nine, Churchill has been fearless, if chilly, onstage, leaping across cultures and centuries, breaching sex roles, confronting political, economic, and mythic powers, and seemingly reinventing herself with each of her many outings. Followers never know what to expect next — rhymed verse? stilt-walking? a shape-shifter loosed on London? Although, disturbingly, themes of murder and of the emotional abuse of children appear more often than not, as they do again in her 2002 A Number, the hour-length drama now at the North Carolina Stage Company.
A Number fairly represents Churchill’s writing over the last dozen years, in which she has pared her theater back to the actors and a stripped-down language, though she still deploys a humor so black interpreters and theatergoers sometimes miss the joke. The superficial subject is human cloning. Though a good deal of the argument between the characters concerns the impact of knowing that genetically identical versions of one’s self wander the world, it soon becomes plain that no clones are needed to make one’s sense of self problematic. More than anything, A Number concerns itself with the numberless ways in which we misunderstand and neglect ourselves and others.
The story is told in five brief confrontations between Salter, a man in his early 60s, and three of his sons, none of whom are aware of each other’s existence before the action begins. It unravels the mystery that led to “some mad scientist” illegally making copies of Salter’s firstborn — a mystery that deeply involves the mother, who never appears and yet remains key to understanding Salter’s damaged personality. Churchill’s script offers no directions or other clues for staging beyond a highly stylized effusion of often unpunctuated and contradictory words. The difficulty of mounting this work is deciding how to go about it: stylize or humanize? In the hands of director Ron Bashford, this Number attempts to have it both ways, with mixed results. __The stylization is embodied in the use of an arena setting. Bashford, in a program note, vigorously sets out the reasons advocates of theater in the round have long championed its impact. Some believe such stagings are more involving than the standard picture-frame proscenium, bringing viewers more directly into the action, as at a sporting event.
Proponents of Brechtian, “thinking” theater suggest that being able, or forced, to see fellow patrons throughout a performance reinforces one’s awareness of attending a show, encouraging an intellectual grappling with content rather than an emotional response. Maybe so, but there are also drawbacks to an arena: a tendency toward circular, sometimes dizzying blocking; the possibility of distraction due to fidgeting in the audience; and the likelihood that, at meaningful moments, one ends up looking at the back of an actor’s head instead of his face.
Lighting an arena is also extremely problematic, almost invariably resulting in shadows more unavoidable than intentionally atmospheric. (The low ceiling and short throws of NC Stage’s space only complicate an already difficult job for the lighting designer, and an oddly unbalanced arena focuses far too much attention on a single row of the audience.) __The acting, on the other hand, has been handled naturalistically, with the text plumbed for full psychological truth. Charles McIver, always an engaging performer, plays the sons, creating subtle variations altogether appropriate to such similar beings; he’s especially winning in his most genial part, but his villain isn’t always as frightening as he should be. Graham Smith, as Salter, also exudes an appealing humanity; unfortunately, Salter understands and presents himself in confusing ways never resolved by the performance. __Pacing, more than anything, is at issue here. Handling the dialogue realistically slows down the headlong rush so evident on the page, as does making the breaks between each of the scenes longer than necessary. This hinders the emergence of laughter, whether nervous or otherwise, making the production more ponderous than powerful. A couple of unscripted gestures also detract momentarily: an awkward reach for a hug motivated neither by speech nor the preceding action; a similarly strained proffering of flowers. __Towards the end of the play, Salter says, “It’s been like a storm going on.” Though this may change in the course of the run, the first performance of this worthy production of A Number was, sadly, too often becalmed.
Directed by Ron Bashford. Scenic Design: Don Baker. Lighting Design: Sarah Elliott. Sound Design: Hans Meyer. Costume Design: Deborah Austin. Production Stage Manager: Connie Silver. With: Graham Smith (Salter); Charles McIver (Salter’s sons).
Samuels says, "Pacing, more than anything, is at issue here. Handling the dialogue realistically slows down the headlong rush so evident on the page . . ." Hill, on the other hand, attributes a pacing problem to "a ritual vibe" which gives a "stately progression." The acting seems non-realistic, i.e., "Flynn-McIver and Smith never really talk conversationally or even argue with less than controlled fervor" and "Bashford gives his actors a minimum of realistic detail . . .
Interesting contrast of views! Wonder what direction, realistic or ritualistic, the director and actors thought they were going.
My best response to Audience Member is a succinct one: neither.
Or both.
What experience did you have? We really do want -- especially with this show -- for the experience to be "open" to your interpretation. Perhaps that accounts for the variety of critical response. I think that most people have found the experience to be very engaging, no matter how you may choose to describe it afterward.
After all, on one level at least, the play asks the question, "what makes you you?"
Audience Member and others may be interested to read Susan Sontag's 1963 essay on the way interpreting art is rather violent act, a way of replacing experience with a mental construct with the effect of depleting the experience... http://www.coldbacon.com/writing/sontag-againstinterpretation.html
I hope to write more about this at some point.
Okay, so I did:
http://ronbashford.blogspot.com/2009/04/get-off-of-my-cloud.html
Ron Bashford said: "interpreting art is rather violent act, a way of replacing experience with a mental construct with the effect of depleting the experience..."
Is Mr. Bashford defending himself from this review or adding to the constructive dialogue.
I think it's great that Asheville has a REAL source of Objective Theatre Reviews.
It's a little uncomfortable that Mr. Bashford is defending his work from this insightful and critical review. I doubt he would be posting links to Sontag work following the Asheville Citizen Times fluff...
I have no problem with the opinions of the unnamed critic to which Theatre Goer PT refers (but I assume he means Samuels from MountainX). In fact, PT might be surprised that agree with many of Samuels' observations. I, too, was at the first performance.
It's a good tradition that artists do not respond directly to reviews because it is likely that others will take such "talkbalk" as defensive... but artists never have anything to defend. A theatre is not a courtroom and I am not on trial. And a theatre production is not a proposal for approbation -- at least that’s not how I relate to the activity. It is what it is. It goes up and it goes down, and then everyone moves on. I like doing what I do and, fortunately for me, people come to see my work.
I'm also not interested in competing with critics: we do different things, so why be competitive? And I'm always open to getting to know insightful people, not fighting with them.
I want good critical writing in Asheville. Mountain Express’ new dedication to publishing more theatre writing is an excellent development. It would serve us all if the passion of critical writing matched the passion of theatrical activity, because more of the general public would take more of an interest in theatre. I can make the art; and the critic can talk to many more people about it than I can, not to praise me, but to stimulate interest in the art form so more people see theatre in general. If a critic can attract people with his or her writing, it will also attract people to theatre. Win-win. The worst thing that can happen to a theatre artist is to receive no notice at all. I always feel dignified when someone writes something about me, don't you?
The reason I wrote my post was to add a dimension to the evolving discussion. I wrote assertively and at length to stimulate debate on the ideas. My comments may be applied to any theatre review to test whether they jive or not, as the case may be, and if so, in what way. Please tell me why you disagree with my comments, if you like. But please don’t pretend to know my motivations in an ad hominem barb. There’s no reason for anyone to feel uncomfortable, at least not that I can perceive.
My sense is that the debate--and I know I’m generalizing here--has been oriented around "fluff" vs. "serious", and also around "good" vs. "bad". (Remember all the controversy over the “negative” Tempest Project review?) As I said in my post, it was interesting to me that there were two very different reviews written about A Number, so it seemed like a ripe time to put some thoughts together on the topic.
What I'd like to see in a review is evocative writing about theatre. I also think critical writers should be opinionated, and as such, they ought to wear their opinions on their sleeves proudly, and include a sense of themselves in their own writing. I also think criticism should be fun to read. In short, when I read a review that I like, I should feel like I was there, what the audience reaction was like, and know how the critic felt about the experience, too.
Critics should both appreciate and advocate. They should know what's happening and what's not happening (to paraphrase Tynan). I also think that critics should write in the largest context possible, never only about the show being reviewed. They should care about the theatre in their community and in the world. They should state frankly where they'd like to see it go, and persuade audiences to care, too, encouraging them to have a passionate point of view, even ones that differs from the critic's.
All criticism is subjective. This is why my post is dedicated to the subject of "interpretive" criticism, a genre (or mode) that presents opinion as fact. Critics should share their well-informed subjectivity and be artful about it, but I find it dull when a critic pretends to know best. That's usually a recipe for a dreary-to-read-review, fluffy or not. And those kind of reviews don't attract people to the theatre. A really well-written pan can be great for ticket sales. I’d love to see more controversy. I’d like to see less quasi-academic-style interpretation and peppy boosterism. Of course no review matches my characterizations one hundred percent. I’m writing about principles, and my review-reading frame of reference for generalizing goes way beyond Asheville.
So, to reiterate: I don't think critics should set themselves up as interpretive authorities, either positive or negative. This is like being an artist in the shadows, not a critic. A critic is a writer; that's his or her craft. A great critic is a great writer, not merely the best judge. Why? Because why else would I want to read it unless it was stimulating writing about both the show and the world? The critic should let us know why theatre matters, one way or another, in every review -- even write about life and politics if he or she cares to. The fluffy recommendation and the trenchent but fastidiously condemning pan become equally irrelevant just as quickly.
I think really good critics become the archivists of the theatre: they are here to vividly preserve the ineffable, as much as to influence future directions.
I think it would be great, for example, for a local critic to advocate for more new plays, or fresher interpretations of the classics, or more political plays, or better actor training, or cheaper tickets, or more philanthropy for the arts, or more plays about gardening... whatever the critic is passionate about. Let's get things really moving!
I wouldn't want, publicly, to ever critique reviews of my own work. I’d run the risk of influencing the way others experience my work through the way they see me, and I’d rather the work speak for itself to each person, as much as possible with me out of the way. Sure, I have my opinions: I like some critical opinions and not others; I like some of the writing; I dislike some of it. Sometimes I agree with an opinion, but dislike the writing, and vice-versa. Sometimes I think an observation is good, but the context is skewed, etc. Sometimes I think a whole review is excellent. But agreeing or disagreeing with others about my own work is not my job.
Mr. Bashford makes a good case for what theatre reviewing/criticism should be.
Whew!
Jesus, are we going to endure tirades everytime a reviewer speaks the truth.
We have a well-written and critical review for a production. That actually takes people to task for what they put on-stage. This is fantastic.
Isn't this the point of this blog, to motivate people to think critically about the shows that are being produced in this town?
I think it's inappropriate that we are getting lectures on the role of the reviewer...
Take it for what it is...either agree or agree to disagree agreeably.
We really don't need to be subjected to lecture halls by those defending their work...that doesn't serve anybody or create positive, constructive dialogue about anything.
In light of comments by Shkspr Rocks, maybe some people who saw the production could comment on the production itself AND what Samuels and Hill said about the production. Agree? Disagree?
I agree, the conversation should be about constructive criticism of the production.
I do agree with Shakespeare, I think, in that it's unprofessional when a reviewee seeks to strike out against a reviewer, particularly when that company is "professional."
While it may not have been on behalf of said company. It is the artistic director of this production and thus by default on behalf of the company.
Steven Samuels has supplied more than worthy credentials for his review and it shows in a well-written, critical analysis of the production.
This whole dialogue has left a very sour taste in my mouth.
I did not strike out against a particular review; that is the assumption of other folks commenting here. I tried to make that clear in my last post. I am making a case for a certain kind of review. In my original post on my blog I cited and provided links to two reviews and did not criticize either specifically. I also stated that I thought it would be inappropriate for me to criticize a review. If the situation had been reversed, and the C-T review had been less positive than the MX review, some people would think I was talking about the former, because they have assumed I feel obliged to defend my work against negative criticism. I do not feel this way, and also tried to make that clear in my last post. I do have strong opinions about reviewing in general that I decided to share.
Strong opinions indeed. Funny, this blog has been up for how long and the time you have chosen to make an ordeal out of reviews is when it involves your production.
You can see why the innocent timing of all of this has left people turned off.
Why not start a new section on the blog? If this is something you are passionate about, why wait until now to post it?
I've written about all that already, here and on my blog.
Please feel free to contact me directly if you'd sincerely like to know more about my motivations. I'd be happy to discuss it with you.
Very tacky. This whole thing.
Keep the great reviews Mountain Xpress. Please don't be discouraged because of defensive folks....
Er... what's the big deal, exactly? So maybe this blog isn't the absolute best forum to talk about the role of reviewers in a community, but if not here, then where? (I'm assuming that a personal blog would not offer a chance for feedback/discussion, unlike this one).
If Ron wants to share some ideas, great-- I for one am interested in his perspective. I don't particularly care why he is posting his thoughts, but I'm glad for the chance to read them.
And why not take a chance and post some general thoughts on reviews after a review of your own play? Sure I see where it can easily be seen as being inappropriately defensive, but maybe that's better than "attacking" something about a review of a play you have no connection to. Maybe it's gutsier.
Anyway, who really cares? Isn't enough to be engaged in an interesting discussion of an important topic?
Well, since the forum has been opened. The reason why I care is because I think it's really inappropriate for an artist to come out against their reviews.
Gutsier? Really?
I think it shows a genuine lack of professionalism and childish behavior.
Great, throw up your standards for reviews in a separate posting, but to do so following the posting of a review of your work, lacks professionalism. It's tacky.
I think the review was excellent. Well written and brought up great points about the production. Take it or leave it.
Mr. Samuels brings with him a great deal of credibility and with this review establishes himself as a worthy critic for the Asheville scene. I hope to have his interpretive reviews with us for a long time.
For way too long the Asheville scene has lacked any credible theatre reviewers. In fact, I understand this blog was developed to help fill that void. Now we seem to have the start of something productive and good.
While I am all for an artist defending their choices to a review, offering blog entries about how a review should be written is extremely tacky.
NC Stage is a professional company, and thus their position on this should be one of grace and professionalism--wouldn't you agree?
Because for me, this incident has played out as petty and amateur, and clouds my experience with them.
Hopefully, these reviewers continue their great work and honest opinions and will not be deterred by the arrogance shown in such entries as "interpreting art is rather violent act, a way of replacing experience with a mental construct with the effect of depleting the experience..."--Susan Sontag.
I mean come on. The show was great, the review was honest and offered much praise for the production and this director seems to have gotten his feelings hurt.
If you just want to hear the wonderful, superficial accolades of your work then stick to the Citizen-Times reviews. I, am looking for interpretations, educated analysis and informed criticism, thus I am looking forward to the Mountain Xpress reviews, and I welcome them to this community.
“Reputation, reputation, reputation!” cries Cassio in Shakespeare’s play about the fatal conflict between love and honor.
I stand by what I have written here and on my blog. I think my comments, taken together and in context, defy some of the declared interpretations of me or my character that have been made on this thread. Frankly, such interpretations are good examples of the violence that can be done when interpretive judgment displaces real experience. This feature of human nature is precisely why Othello can be both accurately and ironically described as a play about a handkerchief.
No one who has read my comments here or on my blog can fairly claim I have negatively commented on particular reviews, or could claim to know what my opinions of them -- or specific portions of them -- are. Except for two broad, neutral, introductory comments in my blog post, I have not made specific comments about any reviews, despite repeated assertions that I have. No one who hasn’t spoken to me personally knows what my private opinions, feelings or motivations are. I do not understand why some contributors would focus so heavily on my interior life, rather than the substance of my comments. To know such things lies beyond the scope of this medium.
Do I appreciate Asheville Actor’s comment that the show was “great”? Yes! Thanks. Do I take exception to AA’s interpretation of my comments as “tacky”? Yes, of course. Is it fair to conflate my views with those of NC Stage (whoever that is)? No, I am not an employee there and do not speak for the company. Were my feelings hurt by a review? Frankly, no. I got over that type of thing some time ago. Personally, do I prefer one review over another? Again, no. But if my own comments were never about my private feelings, why are so many others? So much of what I actually wrote was ignored in comments made by others on this thread. If you don’t know the meaning of “ad hominem,” look it up. Now, that’s lecturing!
The timing of my initial blog post was prompted by a comment about two divergent interpretations of a particular aspect of the performance. I had just finished work on the show, which is one of the most ambiguous scripts I’ve ever worked on, so it really interested me. I became interested in the topic of interpretive criticism and spent time writing about the issue based on my accumulated experience. Sontag’s ideas interest me, particularly from my point of view as an artist. A link to her entire essay can be found in my personal blog post, for anyone else who is interested. Any other assumptions about my motives are purely speculative, as are assumptions about what I feel about the reviews, reviewers, or any individual. If you want to know me, spend real time with me.
I hope that anyone who stumbles across this thread reads everything in context before associating a narrow interpretation with my name before encountering me for real. This is the essence of the point about interpretive criticism I have been making all along. Iago convincingly dismisses Cassio’s concerns, but of course he’s the one who orchestrates Cassio’s public debasement. In fact, all this stuff does matter to me, but not, perhaps, in all the ways some people think.
I invite anyone who is sincerely interested in getting to know me better to feel free to contact me directly and we can get together. I can always use a good excuse to hit one of Asheville’s many cool bars and cafes.
Ron Bashford is a contract employee and close artistic associate of North Carolina Stage Company and we view his insight and input as invaluable to the success of our artistic endeavors and think that because of his experience as a theatre practitioner, anyone would be well served to consider his insight as they pursue artistic endeavors.
His views do not necessarily reflect the views of the staff and artistic leadership of NC Stage. However, after reading all of the comments here, and Mr. Bashford's own blog entry, we see no blatantly defensive stance on his part concerning any particular review. We regret any confusion that has ensued and wish to state that NC Stage welcomes all critical reviews and encourages the continued involvement on this blog, the Mountain Xpress and the Asheville Citizen-Times’ websites as well as other venues.
In particular, NC Stage wishes to acknowledge the efforts of the Asheville Citizen-Times in reporting on and promoting of the arts, in particular theatre, even in the face of drastic reductions in arts coverage from the print media in general. Their efforts to maintain news coverage of not just the activities of the arts but their importance to the community in both social and economic ways, cannot be underestimated. Everyone in the theatre world of Asheville owes them a debt of gratitude but we also thank the Mountain Xpress and participants of this blog for helping to develop the discussion to its natural next level.
Furthermore, people should know that no one, regardless of their credentials or experience, is critical of NC Stage’s artistic product more than its staff. I encourage all who practice the art of theatre to not hold the value of their endeavors in terms of what others write about it, either positive or negative, but rather strive to produce the best they are capable of. We are all affected by the strengths and weaknesses of each individual theatre producer and a theatre go-er’s experience watching a play, whomever it is produced by, has the potential to color their view of the art of theatre itself and therefore influence whether they attend in the future or not. This is NC Stage’s guiding principle and hopes to continue its effort to make theatre in general the source of a communal sharing of the best and worst of the human condition. We want people to see theatre, wherever they see it. And wherever they see it, we want it to be excellent.
In an effort to further the discussion with informed opinions, please accept this discount code to see A Number in its final weekend of performances to the readers of this blog. It is good for online purchases only and will be valid for all remaining performances. JQ2HA
I’m available after the performance and via email and phone with info available at www.ncstage.org
Charlie Flynn-McIver
Let's hope the Mountain Express's new theatre reviews generate more comments about the productions themselves and less about the act (or is it art?) of reviewing and the etiquette of how and/or if those reviewed should respond. If the theatre-going public gets interested, gets into a discussion about the work, that may be good for the much less numerous theatre-producing public. If I were the editor and publisher of Mountain Express and the new theatre reviews were only generating the kind of comments seen here, I'd soon stop using scarce resources to publish theatre reviews.
I see that Mr. Flynn-McIver has posted the Citizen-Times review of "A Number" on the NC Stage Web site but not the Mountain Express review.
In the meantime, does poor old Aaron Hill's review have any validity?
For the record, I maintain the NC Stage website, and the lack of a link to the MX review is due simply to computer trauma on my part and should not imply any embarrassment or cover-up on the part of Ron, Charlie, or North Carolina Stage Company.
Why haven't we heard from Scott Walters?
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