Breaking the Fourth Wall

‘Breaking the Fourth Wall’ is an expression coming out of the world of theater. In most modern theater design, a room will consist of three physical walls, as well as an imaginary fourth that serves to separate the world of the characters from that of the audience. An accomplished actor can break through that fourth wall and draw the audience into his or her world, forgetting about the fourth wall there. Artists of every ilk seek to do the very same thing to reach their audience.

‘Behind the Music’ was a series on MTV a while back. The television series covered a number of famous bands and how they originated. Most had been honing their skills in three-two bars and the dance hall circuits for years before some well-written song or lucky coincidence was the break-through they needed to make it to the big time.

Across the board with almost every band was the image of a group of individuals with a fire in their respective bellies. Musicians so dedicated to their craft that they would let nothing get in their way of making music.

Musicians are certainly not alone in that endeavor. The actor, Dustin Hoffman, labored for ten years in Off-Broadway plays before hitting it big with ‘The Graduate.’ Jennifer Lawrence ran the same race.

This quest for recognition and success got me to reflecting why it is that some individuals can talk forever about doing something while others simply do it. Some curb jumpers think about running a marathon but never get past their wishful thinking. Then there are others who begin with a walk, then a jog, a short run and finally begin putting on the mileage.

There are hundreds of thousands of wannabe writers who can’t get past a blank sheet of paper or empty screen. Then there are others who toil for years trying to write something worthwhile but can’t get past the first page. There are only a relatively few who can sit down and write a play or novel or screenplay while so many others never complete that first sentence. What is the difference here?

I certainly don’t have an answer as to why some folks stoke this ‘fire in their belly’ while the majority of dreamers simply wallow in wishful thinking. Yet all of this mindful meandering begs much larger questions as to why do artists or athletes do it in the first place? What drives them to toil in the trenches of an athletic field or in front of a keyboard? Why are they different from the rest of the populous? Can they help themselves or do they want to help themselves? What internal needs are they trying to answer or satisfy?

Passion might be another word for their collective ‘fire in the belly.’ But where does that passion come from? It’s a question that has tugged at my consciousness for a long time and yet never reached a solid conclusion. As such it’s a mystery that has permeated much of my writing.

Not surprisingly the protagonists in most of my novels, male and female, wear a cloak of in-security tempered by blind determination that torments their very souls. One of the phrases that I used to describe my protagonist in “Love in the A Shau” was: ‘Daniel was born hungry.’ The same moniker could be used to describe Robert, my other protagonist in the ‘Debris’ trilogy.

I liked that handle because it so clearly defines the person as a seeker. He or she on their own vision quest. It was what drove them to extraordinary action in Vietnam; it meant traversing the barren and dangerous mountains of Western Arizona or leading a ghostly expedition through the canyons outside of Palm Springs. My heroes had become what they strove to believe in the first place.

For some of us this ‘real world’ vision quest gets tempered with time but never loses its urgency. For a select number of youngsters my age it’s become our age of truth and reason. It is a way of finding ourselves through our art. This quest for authenticity came to me almost by accident. A cessation of my business and a refusal to embrace the acceptable terms of retirement caused me to reflect on that next stage of my life. Writing seemed the next logical step for me.

Now in retrospect I seem to be picking up where I left off at the end of the ‘60s before I got married, settled down and became distracted by life and family and kids. It means forgetting about the miles traveled and shaking aside society’s prejudice, expectations, standards and assumptions. It means recognizing that those were labels and confinements put on us as kids by naïve parents.

This personal quest is about finding your freedom wherever it may be while recognizing it’s a different time, different place, different you that is the seeker. Yet beneath the wrinkles and glasses it is the same mental ramblings, inquiries, and occasionally discoveries. It is a journey I’ve chosen because I didn’t know what else to do with my life. I’m guessing the same can be said of most other artists too.

As a writer, retired folks are a category that intrigues me a lot now. Unlike the legendary ‘old men of the coffee shop’ so many retirees have decided that retirement is their time to slow down and enjoy the fruits of their years of labor. While on the surface this seems to make perfect sense, I can’t help but feel it might also one big step in the wrong direction. ‘Riot at Sage Corner’ was an attempt to explore this dichotomy. What to do with the rest of your life when nothing is not an option.

One of my goals in attempting to define ambition is to light a fire under my grandchildren. I don’t care where their interests or passion or focus goes, just so it goes someplace. I want to be there to encourage them to follow their dream whatever it might be. I can’t do it for them but I certainly offer my help.

A life in pursuit of something is far more satisfying than a life just lived.

I Have Seen the Elephant, I Have Heard the Owl

The saying:  ‘I have seen the elephant, I have heard the owl’ is an American colloquial phrase that refers to gaining experience of the world at a significant cost. It was a popular expression in the mid-to-late 19^th century throughout the United States beginning with the Mexican-American war and beyond.

Pioneers would speak about ‘seeing the elephant’ in their journeys west. James Michener in his novel ‘Centennial’ made it a key point in the life of one of his characters. For that young adventurer it was an experience that left him shaken to the core and uncertain about his future.

Over the years, the phrase has become immersed in western novels, war stories and more poignant storytelling such as Margaret Craven’s wonderful novel ‘I Heard the Owl Call My Name.’ It’s been referenced in many bible stories highlighting those watershed moments and end of life experiences some biblical characters have faced.

It’s been argued that you don’t really know who you are until faced with a catastrophe or a near-death experience. Some will say that our best life experiences come through affliction and challenges we never expected to encounter. It might be an athletic event that stretches your abilities to their absolute maximum. It could be a personal struggle with health issues, personal or social relationships or any number of personal challenges.

Now to take that argument one step further I might also suggest that for many people the act of planting ones feet on a stage could be akin to ‘seeing the elephant.’ Yet there are a number of octogenarians and their younger compatriots who have agreed to do just that in a new senior theater project in Rosemount, Minnesota.   

After two summers of trekking to an assisted living facility / nursing home in Wabasha I’ve seen firsthand how many of the elderly have chosen to live out the rest of their lives. Some are able to embrace or at least accept their final surroundings while others just sit in their rooms pining for the ‘good old days.’

So it was encouraging to see that there is another group of elders who are readily embracing change and challenges and new adventures in their lives. It’s not only refreshing it’s darn right encouraging. There is hope for aging baby boomers everywhere.

The RAAC senior theater project could be a potential proving ground for some of my theatrical production ideas. The RAAC was started in 2007 by four area residents who had been serving as advisors to the city about possible future use for a church that was closing in town. Their final recommendation was that the church be rededicated as a community arts center.

As the group was making its final recommendations they decided that the arts in Rosemount were about more than just a building in town. They felt there was need for an arts council that could spearhead activities and programming to bring the arts, all kinds of arts, to the people.

Now they have a new project called the Senior Theater.

Creating plays has always been part of my writing arsenal. The Coachella Valley in California has a plethora of theaters and theatrical groups I’d love to approach with some of my works. Now I hope to have even more opportunities for play-writing closer to my Minnesota roots.

Rosemount Area Arts Council Senior Theater Group

This latest project of RAAC’s follows on the heels of a growing trend in this country of theater groups for seniors. It’s a trend that continues to grow by leaps and bounds. In 1977, there were 79 such groups, now there are more than 800 spread out across the country.

Part of the inspiration for this trend came from the work of the late psychiatrist Dr. Gene Cohen who headed centers on aging at the National Institute of Mental Health and at George Washington University. Dr. Cohen’s research concluded that involvement in the arts provides seniors numerous benefits for mind and body.

'Barefoot' - Photo Credit - Keith Reed

'Barefoot' - Photo Credit - Keith Reed

Stuart Kandell who founded Stagebridge in Oakland, California in 1978, the oldest senior theater company in the U.S., has stated: “We all have a need for challenges. We have a need to keep learning. We have a need to feel like we’re giving back to other generations. We have a need for a social environment. Theater does all of that and more.” Then he adds: “The social element is huge, gigantic. The (theatrical) company for many people is an extended family.”

I could see and feel that very sentiment at our first meeting to introduce the public to the RAAC senior theater project. The room was filled with people who seemed energetic, enthused and ready to get involved. None seemed to be worried about their age or tired body parts. For some it was a second chance to do something they’ve always wanted to do in the theater. For others it’s a chance to keep going. For a few it’s just being a kid again. I’ve never wanted to grow up and start acting my age anyway. Why start now? Riding Shotgun with Peter Pan expresses my sentiments exactly on that matter.

At the first meeting there was the obligatory grumpy old man who was hard of hearing and had to be rude in pointing that out. There are always a few folks who are prisoners of their past and still afraid of their future. They’re caught in a limbo of contradictions, paralyzed by fear of trying something new and yet tortured by the realization that their time is running out. Fortunately he was the only one among the group. Those other attendees seemed to be more than willing to embrace their future no matter how terrifying the theater might seem to them.

My first experience with Community Theater started back in Tennessee in 1972. I had left public television in Minnesota to spread my wings in the Deep South.

WTCI Television

Me at WTCI Television

It was a crazy time because I found myself labeled a damned Yankee in King Conservative’s Court. The southern attitudes and prejudices against the north were still very much alive when I arrived as the new production manager at a public television station in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

I loved the city itself, the people, the surrounding area, new friends we met and our weekend jaunts around the south. My work experience should have held me in respect among my peers. Unfortunately it was my northern linage that did me in. The stations production crew was as prejudiced and unwelcoming to northerners as anything I’d ever experienced.

Playbills

Fortunately the Chattanooga Little Theater became my refuge. It was a welcoming respite from the bigotry and ignorance I experienced at work. I crewed on the first play of the season and then acted in three more. Around the end of our fourth play I had been offered a new job in Maryland and my brief, ever exciting career as a thespian came to a sudden halt. But not without some interesting observations.

'How the Other Half Lives'

Cast of 'Catch 22'

I observed there’s a latent thespian in many of us. But some take it far more seriously than others. I was of the latter party. It was a challenge. I was and still am an introvert so the bright lights, grease paint and applause did little to sooth my nervousness and fright on stage.

I think a lot of those actors found their true selves on stage. Much like politicians whose only claim to fame is their small town title, these folks truly embraced their new pretend persona. It made them feel accomplished and whole and fulfilled. I never reached that level of self-satisfaction. I was always more interested in the story-telling aspect of the theater and not the acting part of it.

In this new incarnation as a playwright, I hope to be working with the RAAC Artistic Directors, programming chair and Senior Theater Development Chair. I hope it will be a collaborative effort in which we can create a wonderful experience for those seniors and a fun time for all who attend their first performance early next year.

Some of those seniors may ‘see the elephant’ while others might ‘hear the owl.’ But either way, vision or not, it will be a great experience for all of them. Not for the racing hearts or sweaty palms and memory-challenges but simply because when called upon they answered the call. They took a chance and risked the fear and trepidation for a chance to do something challenging, something exhilarating, something that many of their colleagues could only hope to accomplish. Not a bad legacy in one’s twilight years.

My Tabernacle

For me it’ll be just another jump-start to add to my work load back in Palm Springs and hopefully land a production there as well. Either way, produced or not, writing plays continues to be fodder for my over-active imagination and a wonderful excuse to keep body and mind active and moving.

And always on the lookout for the elephant and the owl.