Peter Chiaramonte
All theatre is necessarily political; because all the activities of man are political and theatre is one of them … the theatre is a weapon. A very efficient weapon … it is, in effect, a powerful system of intimidation.
– Augusto Boal, Theatre of the Oppressed
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– Crisis, What Crisis?
Perhaps no other twenty-first century institution in society has as great a potential for shaping the lives of its constituents as does the university. Sooner or later, everyone will have a vested interest in how we advance to the highest academic degrees. Everyone has a concern with how well our society qualities new generations of professionals in every field that exists, as well as those still to be imagined. But is society getting its money’s worth in terms of the resources it takes to accomplish these aims? It appears that more than a few unemployed and under-employed university graduates are feeling stung by the prospect of having little to show for what they borrowed heavily to get (Arum & Roksa, 2011; Coté & Allahar, 2011; Fallis, 2007; Pocklington & Tupper, 2002; Slaughter & Rhoades, 2004; Woodhouse, 2009). What sequels to such plots?
Each of the above authors does a good job of reporting the news – but now is the time for going past words – and aiming to make the fundamental changes that institutional leadership for the twenty-first century will require. For example, I believe there is good reason to examine David Mamet’s Oleanna, while keeping in mind the work of Brazilian theatre artist and social activist, Augusto Boal. If we take account of the core ideas practiced in Boal’s Arena Theatre, it might help us to frame ongoing debates about gender politics and sexual harassment in a broader light and help us to act upon that stage.
In a discussion of Oleanna, if a critical approach to the play is sympathetic to the character of the student Carol, critics typically interpret the play with gender politics as their focal point (Kulmala, 2007, p. 118). If sympathetic to John, the professor, they address issues of power, language, or education as the basis of their interpretation (Bean, 2001; Murphy, 2004, p. 126; Sauer & Sauer, 2004, p. 225–26). There is no right or wrong perspective. But from an organizational–communication perspective, any of the dichotomies defaulted to out of habit can be recast, to echo the power dynamics shaping and being shaped by the institutional circumstances in which each of the players finds themselves.
Rather than exclusively attributing motive behaviour to individuals, maybe we should be taking a closer look at the dynamic social contexts in which individuals find themselves situated. Or as one reviewer put it, “to examine how the institution turns both Carol and John into vicious animals!” With this perspective in mind, we can pause the action and pose a few basic questions. For example, why do you or don’t you think the university, as an institution, might be in some sense responsible for turning both students and professors into brutal animals? And what do you think could be done to change this if it is true? Perhaps we should begin these ruminations with a synopsis of the play to look for clues in this endeavor.
Palavras Passadas (Past Words)
In 2009 at the Golden Theatre in New York, long after the final curtain fell, the producers of Oleanna took advantage of the play’s controversial power to encourage animated conversations and community action among its theatregoers. How hard would it be to try something like that on our campuses every now and again? Why not hold a few regular “talk back” forums with members of the audience, invited guests, actors (some of whom could remain in character) – and maybe have experienced Arena Theatre directors coaching the crowd and conducting the chorus. Here is some of what I can imagine us talking about: Is this play primarily about the war of the sexes, or is it something else? Is there a crisis in higher education – or is it all theatre? – just something someone has made up? Is the system working? Do these reflections of Mamet’s refract or reveal your subjective experience of university life? Was the professor sexually attracted to Carol in the first scene? Does it matter? Is Carol an abandoned young thing of some doubtful sexuality, and if so, what does this have to do with the main premises of the play? What would you guess is her secret? Is the institution somehow to blame for this sort of tragedy? Does John deserve to be denied tenure? Is he justified in knocking Carol to the floor and advancing on her with a chair raised high above his head? And so on. Does the university structure and the environment itself somehow transfigure its members into backbiting primates, or is that going too far?
At the conclusion of any drama it all comes down to the perceptions of the audience, doesn’t it? For students and professors – Oleanna is a play within a play – the meaning of which bounces of the senses within each individual’s imagination. These mirroring effects may be akin to stepping through a looking glass and – after stepping back again – finding that the image we once had of ourselves has been transformed by the experience. Let’s not guess – let’s ask them. Such is the power of the theatre and the classroom. Or, is it the theatre as classroom?
In their book, Lowering Higher Education: The Rise of Corporate Universities and the Fall of Liberal Education (2011), Western University sociologists James Coté and Anton Allahar concluded that unless some broad-based social paradigm shift occurs, university degrees will soon become little more than expensive “fishing licenses” for fished- out lakes, rivers, and streams. Still, there’s no end to the number of credentials neophytes can get with easy loans and government grants. Even if, after four years, graduates find themselves in a spot where neither the promise of wisdom nor the guarantee of a lucrative career is a foreseeable outcome.
The crisis in higher education didn’t just happen overnight. Nor will it be solved over- night. Or perhaps even in decades. The slow pace and unwieldy inertia of academic cultures, in my opinion, precludes any revolutionary turning away from the hegemonic corporate interests presently ruling the roost. Let’s be candid. For all the investment that goes into building commercial theatre space, hockey arenas, coliseums, and gambling casinos – one would think that government ministry and campus officials could discover a way to stage a little self-reflection from time to time. Surely an idea like Arena Theatre wouldn’t be too far out or bizarre for an institution that continually boasts being on the cutting edge of innovation? Let’s invite the entire university community to take part in face-to-face theatrical forums, instead of gazing at tiny screen images of each other that we fondle with our thumbs.
Personally, I love the university and the live theatre and I’d like to see them both get along and work together. I’m all for enlightened social change and not just dragging chains for the business of higher entertainment. Just as I’d like not to see the real life reflections of students and professors like Carol and John have to duke it out that way night after night – psychically and socially disabled from showing genuine respect for one another. Yes, what is portrayed as happening in Oleanna is real enough and shocking, but also inevitable. Just let’s look at the institutional circumstances!
Every time I’ve come away from a David Mamet play I’ve kept that wonderful, eerie sense that I’ve taken part in a genuine classic – a dramatic spectacle of epic stature within “my self.” With Oleanna, the playwright presents us with a tragic reflection for our times that – dare I say – one can liken to Sophocles’ Oedipus the King. Now that particular tragedy opens with Oedipus, the ruler of Thebes, lamenting the plague that has blighted his dominion. In Mamet’s Oleanna, the vicious plague infecting the academic equivalent of Thebes (New Norway U.) may just be the budget officers who run the place. Swarms of harried carpetbaggers are actively selling college loans to dreamy-eyed secondary school grads and their parents, while increasingly remote, contingent faculty study each other’s columns, graphs, and charts. Everyone looks miserable half the time, yet students are encouraged to go on smiling – expecting the entitlements of a promising future and, just maybe, some kind of intrinsically rewarding experience of lasting value. “Oh, to be in Oleanna.”
Some people will go to the theatre to see David Mamet’s play about Oleanna with similar expectations as those of us who went away to university with stars in our eyes and songs in our hearts. I’ve heard of campus productions of Oleanna where the audience left the theatre quarrelling every night with each other about all sorts of things. I have witnessed student audiences come away feeling more disturbed than disappointed. Some will be challenged to hang around after the final curtain falls and go on thinking together out loud about creating worthier institutional environments for themselves and others to take part in. Stepping through a glass darkly won’t be easy. If it were easy, then anyone could do it. But no, that’s not the academy for us. That’s not the place we came to act in, witness or applaud “As ’round the fields [we] quickly go …” [Exeunt].
Dr. Peter Chiaramonte 