In Herodotus he writes of the capture of the city of Miletos by the Persians. Miletos was a friend of Athens and the Athenians were much grieved. Phrynichos composed a drama called “Capture of Mletos”
and had put it on the stage, the body of spectators fell weeping, and the Athenians moreover fined the poet a thousand drachmas on the ground that he had reminded them of their own calamities; and they ordered also that no one in future should represent this drama.
I know Athens was big on drama, they held festivals and contests and all that. The response to this drama surprised me. I would have thought it would have provided a mass cathartic experience for the grieving Athenians.
And then I got to thinking about the present day. The play wouldn’t have been banned or the poet fined for making a city cry. But then not many in the city would probably show up for the play in the first place. Drama doesn’t quite hold the power over us that it used to. We have moved away from it to movies. And while there is nothing wrong with movies I think it is an unfortunate cultural shift. There is something about a play–the immediacy of it, the dynamic between actors and audience, the fact that anything can happen–that is lost in movies. You see the same movie I see. But a play is a living thing and the one I see performed in Minneapolis is not quite the same as the one that was performed in New York, or even the one that was performed the day before or the day after. It’s exciting to think about.
When I was in high school I was lucky to get to go on frequent school field trips to the Old Globe Theatre in San Diego. The best plays were the Shakespeare plays we got to see in the outdoor theater in late spring. The San Diego Zoo is right next door and sometimes the peacocks would get to hollering or some other animal would start bellowing. The actors would ignore it all. Once though the peacocks got going just as one of the actors was saying something like Hark! did you hear that? The play being a comedy we all got to laugh.
There would also on occasion be a large airplane fly over, probably military, and all the actors on the stage would freeze until the plane passed and then they’d pick up exactly where they left off as if nothing had happened. It’s the unplanned things that happen that make plays such a great experience.
I cannot imagine though anything in this day that is or would be comparable to the Athenians and “Capture of Miletos.” Or maybe there is and my imagination is coming up short at the moment?
The only comparison I can think of is a football game and if that’s a true comparison? I will cry.
Well, I think one of the functions of the arts has always been to remind cultures of their calamaties. And while documentary films may not qualify as “the arts” in some people’s minds, I do think the powers that be would jump for joy if it could find a way to fine Michael Moore or Al Gore today’s equivalent of a thousand drachmas and outlaw future showings of their films.
A great post, Stefanie. And I really like your point about drama being a living thing.
I can only think of some of those performance artists who cut themselves on stage. Or Orlan who couldn’t find a surgeon to perform her last cosmetic surgery op on camera – she wanted to have her nose made as big as possible and no one would agree to do it. If I’d been a doctor, it would have been the necessity of wearing Paco Rabanne clothing, putting up with odd coloured lighting and having to listen to Orlan, conscious during the op, intoning from a book of French theory that would have had me saying no!
But this rather blows the old Greek catharsis thing to pieces, doesn’t it?
A great human drama took place in southern Ontario this weekend, the annual triathlon: swimming, biking, running. It wasn’t the Iron Man but many came out to cheer the athletes. It was ten times better than reality TV. Also the drama was etched on the faces of the participants from teenagers, to seniors, a great study in human endurance. I blogged about the event today.
Also I blogged about the winner of the Dublin Literacy Award: Rawi Hage, author of De Niro’s Game. $168,000 prize. The book is now on my summer reading list. Perhaps you have already read it?
I enjoy your posts, Stefanie.
I agree that the move away from drama “is an unfortunate cultural shift,” and I love movies too.
Recently, I saw Tony Kushner speak, and he talked a little about the difference between seeing a play and seeing a movie. He mentioned how a play’s audience becomes a small community for the duration of the play, sharing their willingness to suspend disbelief for a time and how unique an experience it is. (I’m sure that I’m not doing him justice, but unfortunately I didn’t take many notes while he spoke.) He spoke about how the same thing doesn’t actually happen when you see a movie, and I think you hit on the reason. When we see a movie, no matter where we are, we see the same one, but when we see a play, it can be different from place to place, even sometimes from night to night. There’s something special about that aspect.
There is something about a play–the immediacy of it, the dynamic between actors and audience, the fact that anything can happen–that is lost in movies. You see the same movie I see. But a play is a living thing and the one I see performed in Minneapolis is not quite the same as the one that was performed in New York, or even the one that was performed the day before or the day after. It’s exciting to think about
I so agree, Stefanie! This is one of the things I really love about being able to see a play more than once, a benefit of living in a theatre town.
I agree with you about drama, and your post makes me want to see more plays! They aren’t at all like films, really. There’s an edge to drama that film can never have. We don’t come together for events like this anymore, I don’t think — instead we talk about TV shows or movies or maybe celebrity gossip after the fact.
I haven’t been to a play in a loooong time (when I used to see them regularly back home). I’ll have to check out the local theatre listings. By the by, Harper’s Magazine posted a little something on your Emerson and since you are now forever associated with him I thought I’d link you to it in case you hadn’t caught it
.
http://harpers.org/archive/2008/06/hbc-90003075
I agree with Fiona that the modern-day equivalent would be the documentary film-makers who make films about uncomfortable subjects (the Iraq war, global warming etc.) Society doesn’t so much fine them as ignore them. I like the edginess of drama, and I often walk out of a play more energised than I would if I’ve seen a film. But it’s also nice to relax in the anonymity and invisibility of watching a film.
Carrie, I will be crying right along with you.
Fiona, thank you. I think you are right about the documentaries. Now if only we could get more people to actually see them…
Litlove, LOL, that sure does blow the catharsis bit to pieces. Where does one draw the line between art and spectacle?
Paul, thank you. That would certainly qualify as drama. I do wonder if sports are the only thing we have left that would be close to what the Greeks experienced with their drama? I have not read or that I can recall, heard of De Niro’s Game. I will have to look it up. Thanks for the tip!
Kim, how cool that you got to see Kushner speak. plays do create a community for their duration, don’t they? It’s such a magical feeling sharing that experience with what are very often complete strangers.
Melanie, I live in a theater town too but don’t manage to make it out often enough unfortunately. I must make more effort because it is so totally worthwhile.
Dorothy, you’re right talking about TV and movies doesn’t have the same community feel to it as a play. After I finished writing I wanted to go see a play too!
Thanks for the link Imani! I let my Harper’s subscription lapse in May because I was always two or thee months behind because of school.
Pete, we do ignore documentaries don’t we? As though documentary was equivalent to boredom. So not the case. Plays make me feel energized too, but I also know what you mean about the invisibility of watching a movie.