The Threshold

Imagine you go and see a play. Hopefully that's not too much of a stretch. You buy your ticket, grab a glass of wine, find your seat, and quietly chat with your date until the lights dim. There's an air of anticipation in the room. Then Boom! It begins. The actors enter, the music swells, and you have this feeling that something is happening. Now, imagine once again that you go and see a play. You buy your ticket, chat quietly with you date, blah blah blah, the lights dim, etc.. and then... nothing happens. You know you're in a theater and there was supposed to be a show. Hell, the actors even enter and the music swells, but you feel, well, nothing. Believe me, this has happened many a time.
The fact is that Theater has nothing to do with being in a theater. It has nothing to do with costumes or sets, not that I have anything against those elements. Theater is not reality. It's beyond the quotidian and that should be felt by the audience. The moment the actors enter we cross a threshold into a different world, no matter the degree to which it resembles our own. We wake up in a place where something will happen and boy, it's going to be magic!
Artists, try this exercise: If you're working on show, ask yourself, if I took away the physical space of the theater, the brilliant costumes, the set, the music, would the audience still feel that something is happening? How would they know? If the answer is that they wouldn't, then you are missing something fundamental. So I ask you, where does the magic lie?
It lies not, dear artists, in the audience's attention. That is a wonderful thing and it is truly magic, but, and here's the rub, you can lose it, you can abuse it, you can destroy it. We cannot take our audience's attention for granted. Never blame the audience for a bad performance. We have to let go, stop worrying, and give one hundred percent, believing that if we commit they will follow.
And this is exactly where we do find the magic: in our own shriveled little artistic hearts. The passion that goes into the creation and performance of a piece, the imagination, the inspiration, the whole mess, even the agony, those things a show do make. Most of all, the magic comes from the performer's commitment to playing the piece, the urgency they feel for the story, for their characters. Sure, it helps to have the artistic chops to back all that up, but that's secondary, I assure you. One of the best shows I've ever seen was an amateur production of Dracula. That thing was amazing, and they had no idea what they were doing, but they were passionate about it and I'll never forget that show.
What if you don't feel passionate about the story? What if you think it's trite or stupid? Well, try and find a place from which the piece can speak to you, and if you cannot, hard as you may try, I say: Be responsible. Get out. Get out now. Your lack of passion for the show can only damage it.
Don't waste your time on projects you do not care about. Have fun, be inspired, be passionate about what you do. The rest will follow, I promise.

Woe to the Conquered!

We've been busy bees here at Quake Theater this summer. Our brand spanking new mask show, Woe to the Conquered! is premiering at the Boulder International Fringe Festival in just two weeks. We know what you're thinking: "Egads! When is it? What is it? Where in the world can I get tickets? How amazing will it be?" Relax, darlings. All the details are below. Happy Fringing, and we can't wait to see you there!

Quake Theater presents

Woe to the Conquered!
an original comedy for masks

Starring Bobby Lee Dartt, Todd Badolato, and Nicholas Barth
Directed by Claire Patton
Masks by Tim Rearick

Thursday, August 19th 9:00 PM
Friday, August 20th 6:00 PM
Saturday, August 21st 7:30 PM
Monday, August 23rd 7:30 PM
Thursday, August 26th 5:30 PM
Friday, August 27th 10:00 PM

Tickets ($13/$11) are on sale now at www.boulderfringe.com

All shows are at the Boulder Museum of Contemporary Art (BMoCA)
1750 13th Street Boulder, CO 80302

This show is made possible through the generous support of The Boulder County Arts Alliance and the Boulder Arts Commission.

Don't forget to become a fan of Quake Theater on Facebook and RSVP for the show!

The Captain is dead. His posse is washed up and out for revenge. Now, where did they leave their pointy things? Woe to the Conquered! is a quixotic journey through Hell and back in 60 minutes.

This show is rated PG-13 for strong language. We do not recommend bringing small children to the performance.


See you there!

7 Reasons to Avoid the Theater

If the art world were a Hollywood film, theater would be the nerdy best friend that the hero doesn't realize he's in love with until its too late. The truth is that theater is a dying art form, and if you listen closely you can hear its death rasps. For those of you who hate theater, here are seven more reasons to keep not attending:

1. Dying Sucks. Theater is a reminder of our own mortality. It is a lame testament to the impermanence of all things. The same play is never performed twice. The alchemy created between a particular audience and the performance on any given occasion can never be repeated. Theater, like us, is temporary. It is an inconvenient reminder of our own impending demise, and let’s face it, no-one enjoys watching their own death played out to the tune of 15 bucks a ticket.

2. No souvenirs. We have no product to offer you. You will not go home with a “I sat through this boring play for five hours and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt. You will leave with nothing more than an experience as well as the surprise, fulfillment, and disappointment that go along with it. Better to stay home and order a Sham-Wow off the internet.

3. Risk. Hollywood films are marketed well and abundantly reviewed. Sure, there’s the occasional disappointment, but for the most part when you go to the movies you know what to expect. You’ve seen the director and actors’ work before. The trailers and reviews have eased you into the creative world you will encounter. The risk is minimal. If you do hate it, you can just walk out and demand your money back. The actors won’t mind because they’re made of celluloid. Go to a play and all bets are off. Sure, you can minimize the risk by going to see Shakespeare or Tennessee Williams, at least then you know the play is well-written. Who cares if the production is unimaginative and the lead actor plays Hamlet with all the creativity of a wet donut? Whatever you do, avoid original theater. It could be the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen. Or it could be total crap. Nothing’s worse than having to sit through half of a play while it slowly crushes your soul, anxiously awaiting intermission so you can scurry out to your car in the rain, hoping that the artistic elite doesn’t see you and brand you a cultural cretin of epic proportions. I would recommend Netfilx-ing Titanic or Dude, Where’s My Car? instead. That way you can avoid risk altogether and remain in the safety of your own home.

4. Imperfection, or surprises suck. While we’re on this film vs. theater theme, we might as well point out yet again that theater is live while film is not. Every audience member across the continental United States has seen the same exact version of Avatar, um, that is unless they were lame enough to pay to see the un-3D version, but come on! The film is edited, scored, finished. We’re repeating ourselves here, but a play is performed live. It is different from night to night and it can never be finished or perfect because it relies on flesh and blood humans to carry out its dastardly plan. When one attends a live performance one faces the very real possibility that something will go wrong. These days, we are taught to loathe imperfection. Give us the shiny lights and well-oiled bodies of Hollywood, branded and packaged in a 2 dimensional image (okay, Avatar excepted). Imperfection sucks. Surprise sucks. Theater is too messy. We want Hollywood movies, the artistic version of anti-bacterial soap. There is a small chance you might see a play on a good night and actually enjoy it. Maybe you won’t even know the difference because you weren’t there to see it last night when it was truly amazing. Maybe good productions are just good, whenever you see them. Poppycock? Perhaps.

5. No popcorn. Okay, I’ll give you that one.

6. Too much work. Going to the theater is a pain in the ass. In this regard, it has been relegated to the same realm as riding your bike to work, baking cookies from scratch, and watching PBS. In order to attend a theatrical performance, you’ve got to hire a babysitter, buy tickets, drive your car to a place and sit. Oh wait, that’s all the same stuff you have to do when you go to the movies. This is one I struggle to explain, but see “Risk” above. I do think there’s another element at play here. It’s called obligation. Attending a play is indeed some kind of energetic exchange between the performance and the audience. That requires more work on the part of the audience. We want to laugh when we’re supposed to laugh, cry when we’re supposed to cry, but what if we’re not moved to do those things, even when we’re aware that’s the intended effect? Suddenly we find ourselves in a socio-cultural quandary. You don’t want the play to fail. You want to be entertained, but you aren’t. You want to encourage the hopelessly lost actors. Cue the obligation. You HAVE to laugh, you HAVE to make that weird “hmmm” sound when something is profound. Seriously now, that is not fun. Here’s my advice: forget obligation. If something doesn’t move you to laugh, don’t laugh. If you know something is supposed to be deep, but you find it hilarious, then laugh. Theater may have been relegated to the realm of too much work, but everyone knows that home –baked cookies taste better.

7. Theater is boring. Yeah. A lot of theater is boring. You’ve probably had some bad experiences. But, here’s the thing: not ALL theater is boring. There are some companies out there that haven’t forgotten that theater is first and foremost entertainment. Seek them out. They may not have Hollywood budgets and popcorn, but big budgets don’t make you creative or entertaining, and those kernels just get stuck in your teeth.

Look, we live in such a fast-moving, synthetic, and disconnected world. Every once in a while we desire something human. That's theater. Go and see a play. Never, ever do it out of a sense of cultural obligation, but see a show that looks interesting and entertaining to you. Have fun out there, we'll meet you in the lobby.

Claire Patton is the founder of Quake Theater. She lives and works in Boulder, Colorado. She enjoys both Hollywood movies and theater.

Motivation, Inspiration, and the Crap Moments of the Creative Process

In the English language we tend to use the words "inspiration" and "motivation" interchangeably. Are they really the same thing? Quake Theater believes we have been confusing inspiration and motivation all this time, and it turns out the difference between these two words tells us a lot about the artistic process.

Inspiration comes from the Old French word meaning to draw breath, to inspire. It carries with it a sort of glamor. We think inspiration is divine, while motivation is crass. This is why we artists tend describe ourselves as inspired rather than motivated. I mean, we have motivated sellers and inspired artists, not the other way around, right? We relentlessly seek out inspiration like artists possessed. We search it out everywhere - in a landscape, at the bottom of our morning bowl of oatmeal, under the couch, in the work of other artists. We instinctively know that inspiration is "out there" somewhere, and it's a cruel and fickle mistress.

Motivation, however, is movement. When we say we are motivated it implies some sort of movement or propulsion forward. Motivation is action.

What I know from the observation of human movement is that before any kind of physical effort there is always an inhale in. Try it yourself: pick up a box or try pushing the wall. If you don't inhale first than the human body cannot function efficiently. Motivation is movement, propulsion. What I would propose is the following: inspiration is literally the breath in before effort, before movement. Inspiration is the initial artistic impulse that allows for action and propels us into the stage of being motivated, of moving forward. Inspiration comes from somewhere else and calls us to action. Motivation comes from within and keeps us moving. The trick is to carry that initial inspiration with you once it has faded, in order to remain motivated, in order to fulfill the dream created by our inspiration. We have to remind ourselves what we are working for once the veins of financial support have run dry, the actors are rioting, and scene three just won't work properly. In other words, we have to keep moving even in the crap moments of the creative process. This is the point at which motivation is called for. It gets us through the bad days, the grunt work, and the "What was I thinking?" moments that we encounter so often in our careers.

What to do? First of all, let us promise to take inspiration when it comes. Grab onto it and don't let go. You'll instantly feel motivated. Go with it. If it means you have to stay up all night devising work or pounding out a script then do it (as long as it's humanly possible and you won't drive yourself insane). And then, once the inspiration is gone and you find yourself in the desert of creative crappiness, put your head down and work. Be motivated, try try with all your might to remember that moment that you were given the gift of inspiration. Be grateful, and wade through the crap the only way possible: by putting one foot in front of the other.

Editorial: What is a Director?

Someone asked me yesterday what a director is. That is a good question, one that merits delving into a bit. Now, there are as many theories on and approaches to directing as there are directors. Someone once told me a director is an advocate for the audience. Sounds good. Another time a real live director told me his job was to move actors around the stage like furniture. Seriously. I would like to humbly offer my opinion on this subject and simultaneously warn you to beware people claiming to humbly offer their opinions on anything. If you really were that humble you wouldn’t offer your opinion in the first place.
So when this person asked me what a director is I said many things, which I assume were brilliant and know were false. The truth is I don’t know what it is I do. There. I said it. It’s out there with millions of other pieces of data on the internet and it cannot be taken back. Unless I delete it, which I might do. Here are some thoughts, though:

A director must be bored easily. If you are bored watching the show you directed then that means the audience will be bored too. If that director is aware enough to catch her/him/itself (I add “it” just in case robots take over the arts) when it gets bored watching its show, then it can avoid boring the show’s audience by adjusting the boring elements. I don’t know about any of you, but I doubt any concept I could come up with for a show would ever revolve around intentionally putting audience members to sleep.

A director must love stories more than her/him/itself (dang robots again). We have to be able to set our gargantuan egos aside every once in a while, acknowledge that the phenomenal idea we have doesn’t work, and put the story first. Sometimes it is not about your “grand vision.” We are storytellers. Always. We can slap a Gucci dress on what we do, gussy it up, and take it out for a five star dinner, but at the end of the day we tell stories for a living. Period.

A director must use what he/she/it has. In a very practical sense you have a budget and you need to stick to it. You may have to make compromises. On another level (and this might be a controversial statement to make), use what you have in terms of humans. Play to their strengths. Collaborate with them; use what they have to give you. Yes, I admit, sometimes a director must push the actors. But guide them, don’t march them into a massacre like some kind of Spartan general (they’re the toughest, you know). There is nothing worse than watching a play in which the actors are fundamentally uncomfortable or painfully aware it just isn’t working.

For me it comes down to this: a director is servant to the story. A director must see what story is being told, really. Most often what emerges will be a surprise if you're really paying attention. Then the director must protect the story, follow it, help it grow, defend it, sometimes fiercely, from boring theater wielding robots who really just want to be loved. Ultimately the director should love the story and believe that one day, it just might change the world.

Editorial: An Apathetic Winter

On this snowy Sunday our brains here at Quake Theater have been percolating on the subject of winter blahs and their effect on creativity. What is it about sketchy weather and Holiday spending hangovers that cause us to retreat into our cozy dens of oblivion? Where is everyone? In winter there seem to be fewer shows (no supporting data here, just wild conjecture and personal perception) and an overall lack of inspiration. Spring and summer, with their hum of artistic worker bees, seem so so far away. This is not necessarily a bad thing. In terms of like, organic cycles and stuff, there is always death and rebirth - a time for action and a time for reflection and the gathering of energy, cause dag, it takes a lot of energy to be a massively successful and prolific artist! Here are some ideas to keep you inspired and creatively content this winter. We didn't consult Oprah or even any scientists for this one, kids. No, these ideas all came from our own hopelessly hopeful brains:

-Be grateful. What? Yes, be grateful for everything. Be grateful that you're alive, that you are talented. You can even be grateful for failure, because, hey, you probably learned something important.

-Do something different. If you're an actor, try painting. If you're a painter, try acting. If you're a Balinese dancer try woodworking. You'll be surprised how much this will teach you about your work. Also, something incredible happens when you perform a creative act for which you know none of the rules. The pressure you may normally feel to perform is lifted, you feel free to fail, you feel free to be an artistic ninja. It's just good for the heart.

-Reflect. Take time to look at your last year of work. Think about what you've accomplished and what you haven't. What did you learn? Set goals for this year. What would you like to change? It is the opinion of this writer that these questions are essential for artists. There are no rules for us, we have to keep evaluating and adapting.

-Take care of yourself. Reorganize your Precious Moments statuettes, get a massage, relax a little. A doy! You can't give to your art what you yourself do not have.

-Let other artists inspire you. Visit the museum. Read a book. Go see "Avatar". Have a beer with your fellow artists. Art is inspired by the world, and it sounds incredibly corny, but you have to let inspiration in. Now that you're not so busy, this is the perfect opportunity.

So go out there and get inspired, because we want to see some incredible art this year!

Peer Pressure

The clock is ticking and you don't even know it, do you? Yes, Quake Theater will most likely be sainted at some point for this friendly reminder: THERE ARE ONLY SIX DAYS LEFT TO APPLY FOR THE 2010 BOULDER INTERNATIONAL FRINGE FESTIVAL! Insert gasp here. The deadline is January 30th at 11:59 PM (Mountain Time). Quake Theater is a part of the Fringe this year. Let us tell you why:

1. You will never, ever, in your artistic life, be able to produce a show this economically. The theater rental costs alone for one weekend are typically twice what the Fringe fees are.
2. Mingling with yes, artists from all over the world is fun. There are plenty of great networking opportunities, but also artistic intrigue (remember John Leo and the tomato lady?), people to love, people to root for, and people to be aggravated by.
3. No artist is an island and remembering that you a part of a larger community is dope!
4. For the most part, you get what you put in. In general if your show rocks and you promote it well, you will benefit.
5. Life is short. Make art.
6. And finally: Alana Eve Burman, David Ortolano, and Teresa Sparks are hot. Seriously! When are you realistically going to get a chance to hang out with people this heart-achingly beautiful?

So do it already!
The application takes about five minutes to fill out.
Please visit:

http://www.boulderfringe.com

for the application and more information.

Peace out!