Plucky Bucky and A Poet's Advice

R. Buckminster Fuller: THE HISTORY (and Mystery) OF THE UNIVERSE opened last night at Portland Center Stage. My feelings were mixed.
The NOT-SO-GOOD: 1) It's general seating and I got there just before they closed the doors. Seated high on the right side of the house, I was too close to the sound system and (with the exception of the moment when he stomped and it reverberated through the theater) the sound was a bit distracting and occasionally drowned out the actor.
2) The show made me cranky and depressed.

The GOOD: 1) I quickly got over being depressed and enjoyed listening to other people talk about the show
2) I think I am in the minority feeling cranky/depressed, as I have been told that many people leave the show feeling inspired and hopeful. While the first act was a fascinating crash course in the life and times of Fuller, the second act focused on the state of the world (war, poverty, Wall Street money-grubbers, the CIA, etc). He spoke a lot about working together, rethinking and seeing things for what they are or could possibly be.
At one point, he recalled the words of Fuller's book, I Seem to Be a Verb, in which he said, "If man chooses oblivion, he can go right on leaving his fate to his political leaders. If he chooses Utopia, he must initiate an enormous educational program—immediately, if not sooner.” Ouch.
Fuller had advocated for sustainability long before it became hip, believing in what he called ephemeralization (essentially the technological ability to do more with less). What's more, he believed that we were capable of achieving it. He believed in the possibility of the individual to change the world and benefit mankind. His hopefulness left me feeling depressed because, knowing he had died in 1983, I kept wondering if he'd still feel so certain that we could survive. While he compared himself and other humans to the rudder of a ship (small in comparison to the whole of the ship, behind it, but still capable of navigating it) I kept thinking about all those rudderless ships out there on "spaceship earth."
2) Doug Tompos (Bucky) does a fine job of holding everyone's attention for two hours. Delivered like a scientific/philosophic lecture, the monologue seems to come straight from his stream of consciousness. He is at times manic and then dreamy, giddy and then depressed. His portrayal of Bucky and Jacob's script capture both the man's oddities (like the fact that he didn't speak for 2 years while contemplating how man could be truly effective) and his visionary way of thinking. Fuller's ideas about humanity and each person's place in it are very inspiring (providing that you still believe in human compassion). And at times, when speaking about his moments of inspiration, he was downright plucky.
3) The first act has the best closing line ever.
4) I really enjoyed a moment when Fuller/Tompos recalled the words of ee cummings in his piece, "a poet's advice." While it made me kick myself for trying so hard to "be a poet" it also reminded me of why I do it at all.


A Poet's Advice
e. e. cummings

A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through
words.

This may sound easy. It isn't.

A lot of people think or believe or know they feel—but that's
thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is
feeling—not knowing or believing or thinking.

Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single
human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think
or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people: but the
moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself.

To be nobody-but-yourself—in a world which is doing its best, night
and day, to make you everybody else—means to fight the hardest
battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

As for expressing nobody-but-yourself in words, that means working
just a little harder than anybody who isn't a poet can possible
imagine. Why? Because nothing is quite as easy as using words like
somebody else. We all of us do exactly this nearly all of the
time—and whenever we do it, we are not poets.

If, at the end of your first ten or fifteen years of fighting and
working and feeling, you find you've written one line of one poem,
you'll be very lucky indeed.

And so my advice to all young people who wish to become poets is: do
something easy, like learning how to blow up the world—unless you're
not only willing, but glad, to feel and work and fight till you die.

Does this sound dismal? It isn't.

It's the most wonderful life on earth.

Or so I feel.

Lucky Us: A Look at Portland Theatre

If you haven’t been paying attention to the theatre scene in PDX, it’s about time you did. Gone are the days when you could expect reliably good theatre from only a few select companies. Gone are the days when so many of those companies folded despite their best efforts. Ok, so it’s not in our nature as theatre artists to be a bit Pollyanna-ish. In fact, many of us are notoriously jaded about the whole business. But with the buzz that now surrounds Portland—both here at home and nationally—it’s hard not to get just a bit optimistic.

First and foremost, one of the best things to happen to the Portland performing arts scene is the resurrection of the Portland Area Theatre Alliance (patagreenroom.org). The organization has been around for a couple of decades now, offering bi-annual citywide auditions and assistance to theatre companies and professionals. However, PATA has blossomed in the last two years thanks to the implementation of some strong, creative minds on their (all volunteer) board. They are still holding auditions every January and July, but they also offer monthly networking events featuring everything from puppetry workshops to classes on how to apply for a 501(c)(3) status.

Most notably, PATA has reinvigorated its Valentine Fund, which provides financial assistance to theatre professionals in times of crisis. Last year, the organization awarded money to a local couple, Patrick and Carol Ann Wohlmut—both of whom are very active on and off the stage—whose infant daughter, Lucy, was recovering from heart surgery.

But the real buzz—the one that has all us naysayers grinning like Cheshire cats—is that PATA is also the driving force behind a potential new works festival, which could launch as early as January 2009, bringing much-deserved attention and money to the Portland market.

Which brings me to one of my other picks for the best of the best. Always on the forefront of new and exciting works for Portland is defunkt theatre (defunktheatre.com). Last year they launched the cryptic, but thought provoking in apparati by Artistic Director James Moore. It was an organic, timely play that questioned the effects of captivity on four prisoners—ensnared in a tangle of movement-restricting tubes—and their keepers. This month, they are staging The Communist Dracula Pageant by Ann Washburn, who will be using this production to further develop the play in preparation for its world premiere. Washburn will be in town in February to see the show and take part in post-show talk back sessions where the audience will be able to weigh in on the performance. Talk about instant gratification.

Another company that continues to bring new and exciting works to the table is Miracle Theatre (milagro.org). One of the things that I love about this group is that they’re consistently—and delightfully—different. From last season’s lighthearted Rosalba y los llaveros to the compelling world premiere of Road to Xibalbá, Miracle manages to re-invent theatre, all the while keeping their Latino heritage at heart. Their 2007-2008 season opener, Mariela in the Desert—a Northwest premiere by Karen Zacarías—was dark and complex, but also touching and funny. Productions like these leave me wondering, “How did we get so lucky?”

We are tremendously fortunate, especially considering the newcomers on the scene who are really holding their own against the big boys. Take Many Hats Collaboration (manyhatscollaboration.com), who produced last year’s Mutt—a piece by Lava Alapai which explored questions of race and identity—and then took those questions beyond the stage by working with organizations like Sexual Minority Youth Resource Center. And, of course, there’s Third Rail Rep (thirdrailrep.org)—a name that seems to have become a mantra amongst theatre critics—who keep bringing us high-quality productions that perfectly suit their stellar ensemble. They launched a world premiere of Ebbe Roe Smith’s Number Three to much acclaim—and earned a Drammy for Outstanding Original Script.

And what about those big boys? Artists Repertory Theatre (artistsrep.org) is midway through their 25th anniversary season, in which they launched the terribly ambitious Ghosts of Celilo, a musical seeped in Oregon history and written by Marv Ross of Quarterflash fame. And ART is ever-so-gradually morphing themselves out of the “old school” category into a niche filled by such haute companies as Third Rail, Miracle and the always-notable Hand 2 Mouth (hand2mouththeatre.org). Especially with the implementation of audience-expanding programs like Thirtysomething Thursdays—where 30-ish folks like me who can’t qualify for the student rate anymore, but are still paying off our student loans can get tickets at half the cost. And now that people are paying less attention to Portland Center Stage’s (pcs.org) now infamous move into the Armory and more attention to their work, they are making some waves, too. Last summer, PCS wisely made their new works festival, Just Add Water, a free event—thus making the event much more accessible to audience members who find the unfamiliar daunting. But PCS also deserves kudos for their continuous support of local playwrights; most notably, PlayGroup, a play development workshop that meets each week. The group—though they fly under the radar—is producing some of the best work both here and beyond.

So, I’ll admit it. I’ve been one of those people who sits in the audience, thoroughly engaged and impressed with what I was seeing, only to walk coolly from the theatre saying, “Yeah, it was pretty good, I guess. For Portland.” The thing is, these days, that’s a mark of excellence. Pretty good theatre “for Portland” is damn good theatre anywhere else. With so much amazing stuff packed into this tiny town, it’s about time we starting thanking our lucky stars—and admitting
it, too.