Rachel Grossman: Start right off with the big nebulous question: define theatre.
Ralph Remington: Theatre is actor and an audience.
RG: Period?
RR: Period. I like to boil things down to the most simplistic. Actor, audience, and elements. But at its most simple form: actor and audience. Then once you have that, then you have source material—whether it’s devised or a script—then you have theatre.
RG: You win as the most simple and direct thus far. When looking at it, at its most basic elements, is it more constraining? Defining? What are the benefits of having this straightforward definition?
RR: What happens in the theatre world or field, people get too bogged down with analysis. I call it analysis paralysis. They get bogged down in the whys and wherefores. The more they do that, it puts distance to the work. The more you deal with theatre at its visceral sense, deal with emotion, actor, audience, truth… basically all you are trying to do is bring truth to the stage.
When I was an actor, I did this prayer to the universe: “Help me bring truth tonight.” Really, that’s all you’re doing—bringing truth. Theatre will be able to convey ideas in a way that film never can. Every performance is literally a fingerprint of that moment in time; it is a premium experience each time you go to the theatre. It is custom to you. Other people may see the same material, the same actors, but no one will get what you got in that particular night, in that particular space.
RG: That’s the new ad for theatre: “You want the most unique experience ever? Go to the theatre. Because it will never be the same.”
RR: Now, I think people see more 200- or 300-seat theatres because you can see the people [onstage]. They are right there. You don’t have to sit back.
RG: How did you come upon this definition? When you were a theatre maker, what theatre were you compelled to make, and did it affect your understanding of what theatre is?
RR: I was always drawn to theatre that was powerful, that was intense, that was visceral. Fugard, Baraka, Ed Bullins. Of course the masters like Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller, but theatre that’s—whatever’s in those scripts you can do in someone’s living room, in a classroom. You don’t need a lot of other elements around it other than the work. The actor, the work, the audience. Of course Grotowski and Augusto Boal, Bob Alexander back in the day, reading about Richard Schechner.
RG: What do you think it takes to make strong theatre?
RR: You have to have a strong opinion. You can’t just be a proficient technocrat or a proficient intellectual. You have to have an opinion. You have to have one. If you don’t, we witness the McDonaldsization of American theatre. Everywhere you go in the country, you have the same season.
RG: Do you have a role in the Washington, DC theatre?
RR: As much as I do in any other theatre community. DC is a national city. It serves national interests, and we [the NEA] serve national interests. Now, because I happen to be in DC, I end up seeing a lot more work locally than I get to see other places. Because I can’t be everywhere; where you are is where you are. But that’s good too because I get to see writers that I may not be able to see their work if I don’t go see a play at Woolly or Arena or Studio. I get to see those writers, or those directors. The fact that all these places are bringing in national and international artists helps me.
RG: Of course. I have been asking other people if there are any defining qualities to the DC theatre community, which for you might be in relation to communities elsewhere. There’s a lot of talk about how we fare in comparison to other metro areas.
RR: I think DC’s theatre community is very healthy. Probably one of the more healthy communities I’ve seen. Meaning per capita, the number of theatres there are. The level of activity. The intensity. The patronage—how theatre-going is a part of community members’ lives in a way that in other places, it may not be. The [San Francisco] Bay area is huge. DC is right up there. Especially now.