Dear Grad School,

Chicago needs a magazine that consolidates serious dramaturgical analysis into one place. It needs such a publication to support the ongoing cultural discussion taking place in its theaters. It is my goal to publish this magazine, and further, to participate in the ongoing discussion realized in it, as both a creative artist and as an artist-critic.

Why does Chicago need such a publication? What do I hope to contribute to Chicago's cultural discussion as a creative artist? And why do I need training from your program?

First, let's consider the question of Chicago's need for a dramaturgical magazine, which I consider to be the most important. Let's consider the living personality of Chicago Theater. It may be absurd to assign human qualities to something as abstract as a city or a scene, but in conversation we do this constantly (I endow Chicago with "need" in my first paragraph). When we use this form of synecdoche, we express, usually unscientifically, our feelings toward abstractions such as cities and organizations. Often these unscientific feelings are entirely accurate.

Chicago is, approximately, an actor. This actor is driven by an irrepressible, super-conscious, organic impulse to create. This actor-leviathan creates a vast amount of cultural material in its theaters every year. It is obsessively driven to perform. It neither fully understands why it is performing nor can it fully see or hear itself. To the extent that it learns and grows, it does so incompletely or not at all. Yet this drive to create is so basic that it stubbornly, obsessively, persists.

What stories does it tell or, (to avoid narrative-centrism) what types of performances does it make? How does it make these performances—how does it, for example, conceive of events on stage? How does it create atmosphere? How does it use rhythm and movement to accomplish its aims?

Like a great organism without well-defined brain functions, it lacks a central consciousness. Partly, this is due to the “neighborhood” culture of the city. But I reject the notion that, because Chicago is a city of neighborhoods, it is somehow, with respect to theater (or in general), not a discrete cultural unit. Its artists and other citizens move across every part of the city in every aspect of their daily pursuits, from day-job, to leisure, to creative endeavors. Even when theater artists work exclusively in standing ensembles, they experience the city comprehensively. If artists rarely left their neighborhood (as is sometimes true of artists in Hyde Park), then I would accept that the diffusion of Chicago's theatrical-aesthetic consciousness is the result of the nature of its neighborhoods.

But Chicago is indeed an integrated, discrete cultural unit, and the only reason it, as a theater artist, lacks a central consciousness is because no one person or organization has made it their goal to foster one. This must be remedied by the establishment of a forum for the analysis of cultural material being incessantly produced by Chicago Theater.

I speak of Chicago as an actor, and this is based on my feel for the scene. While directors and designers of every type prosper artistically in Chicago, it feels, to me like a scene dominated by young actors (since I am a recovering Chicago actor, this likely is not coincidental). Chicago is, in fact, a very attractive destination for young, energetic actors, and this is due to a unique confluence of conditions that only meet in Chicago, and the consequent “mode of production” of theater in Chicago (to borrow a Marxist economic term).

For example, for a major city, rent is uncommonly inexpensive, even near functional public transit. The midwest is nearly unipolar with respect to theater, and the artistic energy of a vast portion of the country collects here for reasons of relative proximity to home. Chicago's economy has boomed in the past 20 years, relative to other industrial midwestern cities. Thus, actors find day-jobs that afford them a relatively balanced lifestyle compared to most U.S. actors starting their careers. Training is accessible, varied and inexpensive. Representation is attainable, and actors who make an effort can, in a short time, work in commercials, voice-overs and industrials. Most importantly, however, actors in Chicago can work constantly, practice and develop as artists.

The conditions that make the (to borrow another economic term) barriers to entry low for young actors also make Chicago an excellent place to start a small theater company. There is an enormous body of young, diverse talent, through which one can cast a variety of shows for little to no pay. Rents for performance and rehearsal spaces are inexpensive, even near good public transit. Further, Chicago has an attentive, consumer-oriented press that reviews every sort of company's work. Chicago has a body of ethnic, neighborhood, and special-interest organizations who support non-profit art groups both as donors and ticket-buyers. The spirit of the city is generally supportive of the arts, as well.

As a result, theater in Chicago is produced by over 200 companies, mostly small-scale, itinerant operators. It is relatively easy to put up basic, technically simple productions in Chicago. The spirit is collaborative, non-profit, low budget, actor-centric, and productive. At any given time there are 50-100 (and sometimes more) productions running.

The non-profit theater scene is divided between two general types of companies. First, there are many companies mostly made up of young actors who, realistically speaking, use their companies as career vehicles, or as an outlet for their basic desire to create something. They believe, implicitly, and not altogether incorrectly, in my view, that the idea of theater is the exhibition and development of acting, in ensemble. This dramaturgical vision is not particularly profound, nor is it commonly consciously considered. Many ensembles consider staging works on the basis of whether a prospective work evokes a vaguely positive sentiment in a majority of its membership. While this collaborative/democratic operation is a step up from strictly commercial motives, it results in work that is, frankly, basic. It is entertaining enough to watch. It is "good enough" and is meant to be. But it is not really ambitious, and it is not really interesting cultural material.

Many companies do, however, seriously engage dramaturgical questions. That is to say: they are innovative in confronting questions of what they do and how they do it, and oftentimes they are very technically innovative on a small budget. They are meditative about questions of what stories should be told or what performances should be made, and they are typically highly cognizant of the dialogue between art and culture. Some of these companies conceive of the Chicago theater community as a discussion amongst different niches—we have historical theater, various ethnic theaters, theater focused on classics, and others. Still others conceive of their role in this discussion more generally and flexibly: they choose seasons that speak to the cultural dialogue that they find important that year.

The scene is so vast and most artists are so hard at work on their own careers that they cannot comprehensively learn from their peers' work throughout the city, industry nights notwithstanding. It is impossible to know what is happening artistically throughout the city, or to, in the words of the African proverb: "see the whole elephant." We are all touching our own small part of the scene, the elephant. There is, therefore, little widespread discussion of trends or dramaturgical standards, even amongst those whose work aspires to participate in such a discussion.

We must find a way to analytically survey the work being done in Chicago theaters each year. To do this we must establish a critical vocabulary and tone that will defy the "consumer reports" nature of what passes for criticism, and strive to give the reader a comprehensive, objective, and yet analytical understanding of what ensembles or directors did and how they did it, throughout the city. This survey must support the dramaturgically serious theaters in their awareness of the cultural material being created by Chicago Theater, and it must support their effort to speak to each other and to the city at large. And this survey must be a first opportunity for theaters that don't profoundly engage such dramaturgical questions to listen to and hopefully take part in the discussion.

Primarily, theater practitioners must write the survey, because the spirit of the thing must be the enrichment of the artistic process—it must consist of artists helping one another to understand the cultural material and cultural discussion produced by the community. Others may profit by adding to or witnessing this discussion, but this discussion must find its center between working artists.

To the question of what I hope to contribute as an artist, the answer is much less developed. That is partly due to the fact that I want to learn from the directors of your program. I am largely driven by the same irrepressible, organic impulse of creation that I feel (probably not altogether coincidentally or unsolipsistically) driving Chicago's theater. And my quest to understand my own artistic nature does, somewhat, drive my quest to understand Chicago.

I do have some firm beliefs, however: I believe strongly that a director or producer must know why they are producing a work of art, and more importantly, why they are producing that work of art now. I believe that art must operate on many levels (while understanding the cultural artifice of the idea of such levels)—metaphysical, political, cultural, domestic, and personal. I am a firm devotee of narrative theater, but I love deconstructed narratives (so long as the narrative is in the first place well-known, as with, for example, Charles Mee's adaptations of classics). I believe in constantly striving to find new ways to create events and affect an audience. I believe in experimenting with new ways to create atmosphere. And I am very open to unconventional and physical rehearsal, ensemble building, storytelling and story-creating processes. I have a very open mind about these “firm” beliefs—precisely because I anticipate that the training and apprenticeship I will receive in grad school will change me personally and the nature of the artistic contribution I wish to make.

As an actor, I have worked in professional theater in Chicago for 7 years. I have trained with Jessica Thebus, Kurt Naebig, Gavin Witt, Curt Columbus, and the Moscow Art Theater at their summer program in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I have done workshops with both SITI Company and Joanne Akalitis. That work has expanded my vocabulary for describing analytically what happens in performance, from moment to moment. My collegiate training in close readings of fundamental texts has supplied me with a vocabulary with which to discuss close readings of performance in their larger context—as cultural products. I have worked to employ this vocabulary toward the goal of the widespread survey I aim for by starting and writing a blog, chicago-survey.blogspot.com. These efforts, however are not enough. I need training in support of my goals.

I need training in critical and narrative theory (beyond the study of the aesthetic and other texts I handled in college) to develop a tone and vocabulary of criticism that facilitates the necessary sort of discussion. Furthermore, as a working dramaturg, a sharply developed and articulate critical faculty will be necessary in advising directors in production or in the development of texts, productions and seasons. I need training in theater history and theory (beyond what I have taught myself through Marvin Carlson's survey), exposure to texts and analysis (beyond efforts at ongoing literacy), and I need apprenticeship with innovative and imaginative directors (beyond the work of an aspiring actor and dramaturg in Chicago). I need to develop skills as a translator (beyond my collegiate French and Italian, and possibly adding a language). I need to work overseas and in other American cities, and I need to eventually work to bring the work of international and American artists from other cities to Chicago.

These goals are dear to me, because Chicago is is dear to me, and because my creative spirit is the most important thing to me. I believe that through such training I can evolve personally. More importantly, I believe that by working to centralize and enhance Chicago's theatrical-aesthetic consciousness, I can help Chicago evolve culturally. That is an ambitious goal, but it is attainable, and worthy of my effort and your support.