Theater Directors React to Performing Arts Ban
Translation: Julie Summers
Shortly after publishing our preview of the upcoming theater season, complete with declarations of our excitement and plans for numerous trips to the theater over the coming weeks, stricter measures were introduced to prevent the spread of the coronavirus, including a complete, nationwide ban on live performances. Most people undoubtedly saw the writing on the wall as case numbers rose, but still we clung to hope. Now, it seems clear that no one will be stepping foot in a theater until January or February at the earliest - if then - but we won’t let that stop us from serving up a good helping of theater-related content. We decided to talk to several theater directors about the current situation and what the future has in store. We spoke with Brynhildur Guðjónsdóttir, artistic director of the Reykjavík City Theater, Friðrik Friðriksson, theater director at Tjarnarbíó, and Marta Nordal, artistic director of the Akureyri Theater Company. Interviews were conducted via video chat, phone, or email.
First, we wanted to know whether the authorities’ decision had taken them by surprise. All three had similar answers. “Like everyone else, we expected ongoing restrictions and even stricter measures, but as far as I know, this is the first time that the regulations have completely forbidden live performances,” says Friðrik, who believes the main concern is whether actors are allowed to rehearse. “At least then we could keep production going and have things to work on.” Brynhildur says that considering the current situation, the ban didn’t surprise her: “It’s not just one thing, it’s everything, and granting exceptions is complicated when people don’t follow recommendations well.” She says that with the two-meter rule, it’s basically impossible to hold any events in the building, and like other theaters, the Reykjavík City Theater has been closed since October. Marta says the severity of the ban was unexpected, but they’ve had the chance to work within a set of established rules and will continue to do so: “Although it’s difficult to rehearse without physical proximity, we trust that in some cases we can make it work and keep going,” she says.
What do continued closures mean for productions that were supposed to be staged?
“As things currently stand, we’re expecting to have some performances on the Small Stage in January, but not on the Big Stage until at least February,” says Brynhildur, adding that the Reykjavík City Theater is lucky to have plenty of shows already in their repertoire that would take no more than five days to prepare. “We expect that everything we have will be staged eventually, but the season has changed considerably from what we expected in June,” and the majority of new productions have been moved to next season.
The situation at Tjarnarbíó is essentially the same; shows will not be cancelled, just postponed: “We’ve put so much work into things, and people are waiting to share the fruits of their labor. We’ll set these shows aside, put them on ice for now, and bring them back out when the restrictions are eased,” says Friðrik, hopeful that the theater will make a strong recovery.
In Akureyri, they’ve managed to stage Tæring, which tells the story of a tuberculosis patient. It was a collaboration with Hælið, a former tuberculosis sanitorium at Kristnes, outside of Akureyri. Restricted performances have been staged throughout the autumn, with just ten masked audience members allowed in for each performance. “We’ve been moving things around and making changes since the spring. We’ll just continue to work with the rules that are put in place and look for ways to bring the theater arts to audiences.”
Asked whether the theaters will consider alternative mediums, such as recordings or live streams like in the spring, the answer seems to be no, not at this time. “It’s quite expensive, and in order for it to work, you need some kind of revenue stream,” answers Friðrik. He says he can’t imagine people want to watch a mediocre-quality stream of a theater performance when everyone has Netflix at home.
But Brynhildur and Marta say they are looking at available options and exploring whether events can be streamed in a new and exciting way. “This is our new reality, and the theater community has to find a way to adapt to it, because the world is changing and things are evolving so quickly,” states Marta. Brynhildur agrees that what is lacking is a means of generating revenue: “We streamed some sort of content from the theater almost every day for two months. It was our attempt to show that there’s still life in the theater, even though our doors are currently closed. But we don’t get anything in return for that, and we can’t keep doing it forever.”
How do you imagine the future of live theater, when it’s clear that society will have to live with this virus for some time yet?
“That’s the question. Where are we heading?” Brynhildur wonders to herself. “What will help us is figuring out how to keep people’s interest alive, how we can best communicate information and keep an eye on our audiences so we don’t lose them.” Brynhildur believes the theater is also an important part of children’s formative years and that when children experience the theater at a young age, they get hooked: “[They] get that feeling deep inside, just a sense of what it is.”
In Friðrik’s opinion, the silver lining in all of this is that the situation has revealed some of the flaws of the performing arts, and that has “brought people together in terms of the art itself.” He says the situation calls for a reevaluation of the performing arts, but he doesn’t think they will change at their core: “The performing arts have survived everything, and it’s an eternal part of their nature, this need to connect and experience something in real time, the laughter and the tears, and to share that experience with others.” He believes people will come to better understand what the theater is and what value it holds for society.
Marta says it’s clear that we must think about more possible mediums than before, whether that means streaming, site-specific approaches, or something else entirely: “We have to be creative and use this as an opportunity for innovation.” She believes exciting things could come out of this situation “if we allow ourselves to think big and be optimistic.” Still, it’s important to remember that although new mediums might appear, nothing can replace the experience of sitting together with other people in an auditorium and experiencing art in the moment. “You can’t create that unique relationship between actor and viewer any other way than in real life.”
All three directors say that theater’s future is bright, that people will have a need for connection, especially after all this isolation. Despite the pandemic fatigue, they sense a spirit of unity in the theater community and are hopeful that there will be social events and stage productions at the end of the tunnel, even though it’s clear that the audience will have to be limited at first.
To end our rather heavy discussion on a lighter note, we asked, “What do Iceland’s theater directors want for Christmas?” “A virus-free world, optimism, and joy,” answers Brynhildur. Friðrik wants a vaccine, and Marta wonders whether the best Christmas gift of all time wouldn’t be managing to defeat this virus.