"There is no shortcut to building a [...] community. You have to work hard and create your own movement one reader at a time."- Mark W. Schaefer
[There's going to be a lot of responses and feedback about the concept, execution, and affect of this TweetSeat idea from the theatre community, as there should be. What there won't be is a lot of response based on experience - the TweetSeat initiative is fairly new to theatre (and the world). This is where I can help. Prior to this performance, I was apart of a TweetSeat showing of Gob Squad's Kitchen at the Public Theater. I am an active Twitter user (@JL_Producer), and often read about social media, it's uses, value, and metrics.]
I am very fortunate.
I was chosen to be apart of a group of Twitter members that were invited to live-tweet during the Broadway production Godspell. As a fan of the show itself and this production, I went into the performance eager to contribute in a unique and innovative way. As far as we know, this is the first (official) "TweetSeat" Broadway production.
Once at Godspell, the group gathered in the lobby prior to the performance to meet, go over some ground rules, and enjoy a cocktail or two. This was incredibly important - it gave us the chance to get to know one another, make connections, and get a feel for who we'd be heading into the wide-open Twitterverse with.
We took pictures together, already laughing and joking even before heading into the theatre.
(For those who do not know, The Circle in the Square, where Godspell is playing, is probably the most intimate Broadway theatre. All you need to know about about the theatre is that (a) it's very small, so no one is far from the stage and (b) it's in the round, meaning you are seeing almost every other audience member at all times. You can see the performers and people, and they can see you.)
Seated in the back row of the far corner of the space, we began to talk and tweet our anxiousness and excitement. Rock Center had sent over a camera-man to film us tweeting and absorbing the performance, so we talked with him a bit and helped him get a few shots. Suddenly "Socrates" rushed onto the stage, and the performance, as well as the live-tweeting, began.
Throughout the first act, we clapped and sang along with the rest of the audience. We reacted to different moments, laughed at the various jokes and ad libs, and spent a fair bit of time rocking out (Michael Holland's arrangements steer the rhythms straight into your body). All the while, we tweeted our observations and thoughts. Because we used the hashtag #TweetSeat instead of one directly involving Godspell, an open audience accessed our tweets and responded. There was praise, encouragement, and in a few rare cases, malice. All of this underscores the fact that a conversation started to take shape as a result of these tweets, and we were just halfway through the show.
At intermission, the TweetSeaters spent the time talking about how the experiment was going. Everyone was posting their various thoughts and getting varied responses. It then occurred to us that, regardless of the feedback, we were all having a great time. The energy amongst us was completely positive, and we'd seen it affect the performers (they knew about our TweetSeat work and joked about it during the show) in a good way. We also knew our support and joy were contagious, as the audience had been particularly lively and engaged throughout the first act. We knew we were doing something special and we took a few pictures together to mark the occasion.
As I mentioned, I am very fortunate.
For anyone who knows Godspell, you know the second act is an entirely different story (well, same plot, but you know...). The mood immediately becomes somber, frustrated, and (SPOILER ALERT), if you know anything about Jesus's life, you know how the show ends. The audience, as well as us Tweeters, had something new to work with. Our tweets reflected this, as there were more questions, deep thoughts, and sadness. There was also a great deal of reverence and admiration, and we made sure to point out the stand-up work of the several understudies performing that night. We also dedicated tweets to observing those around us. That, I can tell you, was a joy - to look out into the audience, see the faces concentrating deeply on this art, and capture it in writing.
As the show came to its conclusion, we joined our fellow audience members in giving a standing ovation. We then spent a few minutes agreeing how connected we now were to each other and the performance. We wanted to stay in touch and made tentative plans to do so. With the end of a performance comes the natural parting of ways, but I can tell you that I really felt something for these people, each of them, and I sincerely hope we keep that alive.
In asking audience members and performers afterwards, we found out that almost no one noticed we were doing this or had their performance experience disrupted. Like I said, we were in the back row of the far corner, so we weren't exactly in the way.
To be apart of this was exhilarating. Yes I missed several moments of stage business, and yes, I split my focus between absorbing the performance or crafting a tweet. But this was not meant to disrespect anyone involved in the production of Godspell. If anything, we sought to honor their energy and passion by matching it with our own through the medium we'd been given to express ourselves.
Backlash and critical dissection of this experience will come over the next several days (weeks? longer?), questioning how much can really be found from ventures like this. I found that I recognized many of the moments and elements that make great theatre; when I looked up from my phone I ravenously searched the stage and audience, zeroing in and focusing more intently on the pieces that made up the beautiful stage pictures. I made a few new friends and, in a sense, became linked to a historic night in Broadway history. As far as what I learned or gained from this night, I could spin it that I explored a new vehicle for discussion or approached theatre from a new perspective. I could describe the theme of community in Godspell's whole operation and contend this is another extension of that. I could tell you adamantly that I was stimulated and lead to think and respond to what I was seeing on the stage.
But to me, the most important part of this TweetSeat experience was that I had fun.
Like I said, I am very fortunate.
~The Young Mr. Producer
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder