This is the second in a series of reflections about David Mamet's controversial yet influential book, ten years after its initial publication. For those of you wishing to brush up on the first installment of this series (written almost two months ago! yikes!), you can get caught up here.
My kid brother just graduated from high school last weekend. I know I'm biased, but I really do think he's an amazingly talented actor. He's doing some "Shakespeare in the Park" this summer - his first professional gig - where he gets to play one of the soldiers in King Lear. After that, it's on to Buckeye Nation, where he will be one of many many undeclared freshmen that have yet to decide on a major. I think that, deep down, he really wants to major in Theatre, but he's seen from my experience how challenging a career in the performing arts can be. So he's hesitant and, I think, rightfully so. As much as I love Theatre, I honestly don't know if I could recommend it as a major.
I am probably not the poster boy for Mamet's supposed "Generation That Would Like to Stay in School," but I might make a pretty good thumbnail image. I guess early on I knew that majoring in theatre would not be the best use of my college tuition money. Everybody I talked to said "Don't major in theatre," so I listened to them. Sorta. I went to film school, under the assumption that if I gained a diversity of technical skills I would be more employable in this very competitive but very rewarding profession. And now, having finally bitten the bullet and gone back to grad school, it turns out my Master's degree won't be in Theatre, nor Film, but Geography. Geography. Life takes funny turns, no?
It's interesting now that I'm back in school, and I get to rub shoulders with people that don't really have anything to do with the arts other than the fact that they are occassional patrons. I've come to the conclusion that Bachelor's degrees, in general, aren't really worth a whole lot anymore. So whether you major in Theatre or Sociology or Business Administration, you're not really likely to find a job in your field when you get out of school. This is where the charming acronym BASICS comes from (Bachelor of Arts, Still In Customer Service). I know a lot of BASICS; they work part-time at the restaurant with me. I think they'd agree that our expensive little B.A. degrees don't amount to jack in the labor market. It's only worth something as a stepping stone toward an advanced or professional degree, which requires even more time and money.
So given this level playing field, why not major in Theatre? I mean, you might as well, given that any other major you choose will result in a degree that has just as little value in the job market. (Note that here I am really only considering the value of a college education in terms of its ability to increase one's potential to earn a higher salary. Some may consider this short-sighted, and I fully acknowledge that applying one's self to scholarship and learning for the sake of knowledge are indeed noble and worthwhile pursuits in their own right. But, to borrow a line from Keith Richards, "Try payin' the fucking rent with it.") I believe this requires us not only to ask, "Why major in Theatre?" but also, "Why go to college at all?" If you're being a wise investor, this is a perfectly fair question.
Such a big question, however, is beyond our purview, and this entry has, so far, been noticeably lacking in Mamet. What does he have to say on this matter? He begins the "Generation" chapter by taking a swipe at casting directors, arts administrators, and presumably all other talented people who "sold out" for the security of a steady paycheck. Mamet celebrates those actors who choose the insecure path, those with the resources and "courage" to remain footloose enough to pursue the difficult and virtuous path required of the artist. I find this attitude infuriating and offensive, as it reduces everyone with a priority in life other than making art to that of a sell-out, a coward, a weakling. I remember during college, if you were to ask many of my friends what their biggest fear was, it would be "fear of failure." Mine was "fear of selling out" and I think it's largely because I was deeply influenced by the rush of "independent" art that made its way into the mainstream during the early 90's. Kevin Smith movies, Image Comics, and Nirvana all conspired to make me deeply suspicious of the Art and Culture Establishment. Now that I'm back in college, abandoning, to some extent, a career in the arts, I sometimes fear that I really have sold out, that I've rushed back to the safety and security of academia just as Mamet predicted I would.
Sometimes I just want to say, "Fuck you, Dave. You want to talk about feelings of guilt, self-consciousness, and superstition? How about telling a whole generation of young theatre artists that its not okay to take a job in Audience Development at ATC after you moved to New York against your parents' wishes singing 'La Vie Boheme' all the way to your hipster flat on the Lower East Side, but now you're broke and hungry, only you can't get work because nobody told you there's a million other actors who look just like you auditioning for the same roles all over town." Sour grapes? Yeah, maybe. But there's only so many "pure" artists an economy can bear. There just isn't room for everybody in Mamet's elite circle of buskers and mountebanks, and it's shameful that he would look down on someone who opts out of such a perilous career path.
Heh. I just told Mamet to fuck off. Well, I'm sure I'm not the first.
Click here for part three of the series.
Comments (2)
Interesting, you really are the type of graduate that Mamet often speaks about, the type who will not succeed in the theatre, because those who choose something to fall back on... fall back. If people said 'Don't major in theatre' I presume you listened so intently because you didn't want your dreams of working in the theatre to become reality, if you had, surely you would have kept on regardless
The BA might not mean much, but I think you'll find a BFA from Tisch goes a long way.
What you don't comprehend, which is sad, because it's very simple is that 'try paying the rent with it' - IS the way to pay the rent. Mamet's most successful colleagues, collaborators and students have all taken that approach and I guess they didn't plump for Geography.
Don't forget T&F is a book for actors, if someone wanted to be a casting agent for a living, cool, but if they want to act, they really won't make it in the backdoor that way.
Finally, what you delight in picking apart, but fail to realise is that this is a manifesto, a firebrand sermon, a provocation, is it perfect, no? Are his ideas practical yes, plausible yes? tested yes. How do I know?
Since Mamet isn't around to defend himself from your sour grapes scatology, I guess I'll leave it to Dave to finish this:
'In a world we find terrifying, we ratify that which doesn't threaten us.'
David Mamet
Posted by Mark | June 15, 2007 5:08 AM
Posted on June 15, 2007 05:08
I listened to my parents and teachers because, well, I trusted their advice. And if they all tell me that theatre is a lousy way to make a living, I'm likely to think twice about pursuing it as a career. Which is, I suppose, as it should be. It keeps half-hearted artists like me from sullying up the stage for people with more important work to do.
My "sour grapes scatology" is mostly born out of frustration with myself, and I'll grant that it's unfair to take it out on Mamet. You know that feeling you get when you're angry at your own mistakes and then somebody smarter than you says "I told you so"? That's where this comes from.
As a manifesto, this is a brilliant piece of writing and is certain to inspire a few devoted people to pursue great work. But I maintain that, like all firebrand sermons, it leaves the majority of the congregation feeling guilty and dismayed by their own shortcomings.
Posted by Brant | June 15, 2007 11:12 AM
Posted on June 15, 2007 11:12