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Illinois Theatre Association Keynote Address,
September 13, 2014
By Henry Godinez, Resident Artistic Associate of the Goodman Theatre
I'm no Einstein, but I have learned in my lifetime that things are relative. When I was asked to deliver a keynote speech to this impressive gathering, the members of the Illinois Theatre Association, first I was deeply honored, and then I thought: what the heck could I possibly have to say to all of you that might be remotely meaningful, especially given this event's over-arching theme of "Excellence"?
Maybe it's what some consider the inherent humility of my Latino culture, but who the heck am I to tell you about excellence? Especially considering the makeup of ITA's membership, and the diversity of geographic locations and disciplines it represents? After all, there are plenty of people right here in Chicago, too often critics, that don't agree with what I think is excellent. In the arts, excellence can be a hard thing to measure, as aesthetics can be a matter of taste or perspective or cultural background.
I believe the official title of this event is, "Step Up and Stand Out: Exploring Excellence with the ITA," AND I believe all of you were invited to submit a video, prompted by the question: "What does excellence in the theatre mean to me?" I did not accept the invitation to submit a video, but when I thought about that prompt, it was somewhat of a relief because I realized it meant I didn't have to define "excellence in the theatre," just talk about what it means to me. Thank goodness!
But the official title of this event is, "Step Up and Stand Out: Exploring Excellence with the ITA," right? So I thought I should probably throw that into the mix of whatever meaningful thoughts I was hoping to share with all of you today. They may seem like two different things, "What does excellence in the theatre mean to me" and "Step Up and Stand Out: Exploring Excellence with the ITA," and yet I believe they are actually vitally connected. As an undergraduate, I was required to take several semesters of philosophy and one of the things that stuck with me the most was the notion of "the one and the many," or "the universal and the particular."
Just as the strength and success of our society depends on the efforts of each individual AND the community together, so likewise, I believe the health and strength of theatre in Illinois depends upon the efforts of each of us as individuals AND as a collective, all of us striving for excellence in our own individual theatres, schools and communities, even as we commit to communicating and collaborating together in order to insure excellence in our field across the state of Illinois.
What I so appreciate about ITA is the diversity of its scope and its membership, from creative drama and community theatre, to large university and professional theatre, from the Stage Coach Players in DeKalb to the Goodman Theatre and Steppenwolf right here in Chicago.
If you know anything about me, you know that I firmly believe diversity is a good thing. That's something I learned from another scientist named Darwin, and something that has been at the center of my own professional work for the last twenty years. Be it cultural or aesthetic, diversity is good. It's like the multigrain of the arts: tasty and good for you. If there were only one species on this planet, life would not only be terribly boring, but actually doomed to fail. The same I think is true of our theatrical ecosystem. The more perspectives we have, the better view of the world. The better view of the world, the better our chances of appreciating our similarities as human beings, rather than living in fear of our differences.
But diversity also invites comparison, and that can be a tricky thing, especially when it comes to excellence in the arts. The centuries old art of Japanese No Theatre can seem tedious and boring to some, and the highest art to others. Excellence can be relative, from productions like Bill W. and Dr. Bob at Stage Coach Players (which I have not had the pleasure of seeing) to Spanish director Calixto Bieito's surreal production of Camino Real here at Goodman Theatre (which I did have the pleasure of seeing). So if excellence is relative, who am I to tell the community of DeKalb whether Bill W. and Dr. Bob is any less excellent than a world class director's production of Camino Real at Goodman Theatre, when right here in Chicago there was much debate over Claxito's controversial production of Tennessee Williams' dreamlike play?
That is not to say that excellence has no standard, but I do think it is relative. There are no doubt definite universal elements or standards that determine excellence, but that gets trickier in the arts. Think of all the Modern and Contemporary Art that people scratch their heads over. So what is it that makes a production, a director, a teacher, a student, a performance on stage good, and what is it that makes it great? What makes our work excellent? Now I suppose this is where my definition of "what excellence in the theatre means to me" comes in. Excellence in the theatre to me begins with the element of passion, that intention, that need, that spurs all of us to create theatre in the first place. Excellence to me has to do with the integrity of that impulse. If it genuinely comes from the need and desire to move an audience, then the most important basic element of excellence is there. Excellence in the theatre does not come from self-glorification: as the great acting teacher Sanford Meisner would tell his students, "It isn't about you it's about the other fellow." Excellence is defined and determined by awards, or fame or money. If people in the audience at DeKalb's Stage Coach Players were move and entertained, if their lives were enriched, then excellence, in some relative way, was likely part of the creative experience.
I know it seems funny to quote a businessman when talking about the arts, but the self-made businessman and profound thinker Ronnie Oldham said, "Excellence is the Result of Caring more than others think is Wise, Risking more than others think is Safe, Dreaming more than others think is Practical, and Expecting more than others think is Possible." I don't think any of us would be in this room if at some point we didn't dream more than others thought was practical...probably especially our parents.
Excellence in the theatre is relative because I don't necessarily believe that it's a quantifiable thing. That there is a scale somewhere that says, "Excellence exists from here up." To me Excellence exists in the Effort. Notice that Mr. Oldham's definition of Excellence never mentions "talent" or even success or any measurable standard, and he's a businessman. It all has to do with effort, with need, with the drive to go beyond what others think is enough.
Now to be sure, the reality of manifesting excellence does benefit from skill, and training, and experience, and that ever mysterious, relative term, "talent." But none of these make any difference if we as individuals stop "Caring," stop "Risking," stop "Dreaming." It's hard, to be sure, especially in the long run. The harsh reality of life, of family, of the material nature of the world in which we live, challenges the very ideals that Mr. Oldham says result in excellence. In the theatre, we rarely have the financial rewards that some of our colleagues have in film and television, or the security and financial incentives that generally exist in the corporate world or even civil service. And that's why we in the theatre Expect more than others think is possible, especially of ourselves.
Excellence is not an accident, and it's rarely a result of talent alone. Excellence comes from expecting more than others think is possible because you're willing to work harder than hard to make something happen that you care deeply about. That's why the purity and integrity of that initial impulse to affect an audience is so important. Money may motivate some to achieve excellence, but generally not in the theatre, not in the arts. And what's crazy is that we work as hard as we can, striving for excellence to create something that is so brief, - "the two hours passage of our stage." Yet the impact it has can last forever.
We deal in temporality, in an event that lives briefly in time and space once and never exactly the same again. That's a magical, albeit scary thing, something that in a way speaks to an element of risk that we all, whether we know it or not, thrive on and embrace. Like the moth to the flame, we are drawn to theatre knowing that it's risky. But there is something truly magical that happens in the theatre, the "stuff that dreams are made of." It has to do with an exchange of ideas and emotions between what those on stage and those sitting in the audience. It has to do with celebrating the funny things, the scary things, the ugly and beautiful things that we as human beings share. There is even a literal exchange of breath as the very same air is inhaled and exhaled by audience and performer alike. I often tell my students that acting is actually like respiration, that we take in the energy of our partners AND the audience, and send energy out again. And when you think about it, respiration is what keeps all of us alive, what makes it possible for all of us to grow and flourish.
Theatre does that; whether it be on stage or in the classroom, whether you are the director, star of the show or the follow spot operator; whether you are a teacher, administrator, fundraiser or student, we all deal in the enrichment of humanity. I know that sounds lofty and idealistic, but I believe that's exactly what drives us to do our very best, to be better than good, to be excellent. I don't see how you could strive for excellence without ideals.
Last weekend's tragedies here in the Chicago Theatre community, where we lost two bright souls to unimaginable accidents within hours of each other, reminded all of us that life is short, especially when you know that life has meaning, meaning beyond survival, financial security and material satisfaction. Because what we do is meaningful, what we do makes a difference, what we do changes lives. The challenge is to remember that, to remember to dream, to risk, to care, to expect more of ourselves, always. And that's hard to do.
Years ago I was playing Don Quixote at the Oak ParkFestival Theatre in Dale Calandra's adaptation of Cervantes' classic novel. It was late in the run, on a hot muggy night, and the mosquitos and constant drone of airplanes were making it less than a magical evening. After the show we took up donations as we did every night, for Season of Concern, the Chicago Theatre communities' fundraising efforts that supports those living with HIV and AIDS, and as I was wandering through the crowd collecting bills and coins in my dilapidated and sweaty helmet, a young teenage boy ran up to me and threw his arms around my waist and hugged me so tightly it kind of freaked me out. Just as I was getting a little concerned he might never let go, he looked up and I saw his eyes were filled with tears, and then I could clearly see that he was mentally challenged. His mother quickly came up and as she pulled him back, she apologized, explaining that he'd seen the show several times because he loved it so much, that it meant so much to him. Needless to say the tears popped right out of my eyes, too. At first I couldn't imagine why Don Quixote meant that much to that boy, but as I drove home I think I cried again as I realized, duh, a story of a man everyone thinks is crazy because he sees beauty and love where others see only ugliness and hate. A dreamer. It remains one of the most, if not the most meaningful moment of my theatrical career. It reminded me of why I do what I do. And it is still what spurs me to do what I do the very best that I can. And I'm willing to bet, and I'm not a betting man, that each one of you do what you do in the theatre because you know that that possibility exists for you, the possibility to affect even one person in that way.
 To me, excellence in the theatre begins with the dream of moving someone, especially some that special, in a profound way. It means accepting the need to cut no corners, to work extra hard, to continue to learn and enrich myself as a theatre artist and professional because I want every tool, every advantage available to move another human soul the way that young man was moved. I feel blessed to have been gifted (or cursed depending on your point of view sometimes) with the drive to affect humanity by doing what Hamlet said it was our job to do, hold the proverbial mirror up to nature. To make the world even just a little bit better place. Now while I am self-admittedly, idealistic, I am also human and know that it is very difficult to be inspired in that way, day in and day out, just as I was feeling that night years ago in the mosquito plagued mugginess of Austin Gardens in Oak Park. Over the course of our careers, in between those experiences that wake us up with reminders of just how powerful and transformative our work can be, we seek comfort and inspiration from one of the inherent blessings at the core of our field, the collaborative nature of the theatre. And so I finally come to the "collective" aspect of this gathering, the "Step Up and Stand Out: Exploring Excellence with the ITA" part. I know that one of the questions on the mind of your new ITA President is "how does this organization fit into the pursuit of excellence" of its members? Dinah's question brings to mind a very famous quote, for me one of the most brilliant things ever spoken by any leader, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." I'm a firm believer in the fact that the more you give the more you get, that there is strength in numbers, that diversity of experiences, backgrounds and perspectives are enriching. Each one of you is a vital part of the theatrical ecosystem of our state. And even as you strive and struggle for excellence in your own way in your own place, your efforts, your challenges, may well be an inspiration to a colleague half way across the state of Illinois who is struggling to reconnect with what brought them to this profession in the first place. Your strength may be your neighbor's weakness, and vice versa. Sometimes we feel like we're the only ones facing certain issues or challenges, and realizing that we're not alone is winning half the battle. That's why service organizations like the ITA are so important: because they give us perspective, and support and validation. They inspire and challenge us; they give us a sense of pride in being part of a broader, like-minded effort. It is fundamental to what we do in theatre, collaborate and share. Those of you that teach know how much you learn from your students. Giving isreceiving. As the great Cesar Chavez said, "We cannot seek achievement for ourselves and forget about progress and prosperity for our community..." I know that we are all impossibly busy, often on the verge of being overwhelmed with our own work and families, and keeping up is all that seems possible sometimes. So it's not easy to see how participating in a professional service organization like ITA can really strengthen and support your own endeavors. How does your own pursuit of excellence connect with those of a large organization that represents so many areas, both geographical and artistic? That question can be true whether you're at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago or at Stage Coach Players in DeKalb, they're just different perspectives. I am basically an anti-social person and would be happiest spending my free time alone in the woods, but whenever I go to a Theatre Communication Group national conference, or an Illinois Arts Council meeting, I come back inspired and recharged. I feel great pride in being part of a broader effort with people I admire and respect. I hope that you will leave here today feeling that way, too. I was one of the lucky people in our field to have had a great mentor; his name was Michael Maggio, the Associate Artistic Director of Goodman Theatre before his passing in the year 2000. Michael mentored me as an actor, director and educator, opening virtually every significant door of my career. I have subsequently felt it my duty to do the same for others whenever I can. I believe mentorship is one of the great ways to strengthen our field, and I believe it is inseparable from my own personal pursuit of excellence. I believe that it is for each of us to push the door open just a little wider so that those that come behind us can push it even wider. And that's why extending your efforts toward excellence into an organization like ITA, why "Stepping Up and Standing Out" is so important. I believe that is the intersection of your own pursuit of excellence and those of others. That's what we do in the theatre; we collaborate, in every area in every way. It is through collaboration and exchange that our dreams are realized and risk taking is challenged, and we raise our own standard of excellence even as we care about others. Michael Jordan, who knew a little something about excellence, both as an individual and as a team player said, "To be successful you have to be selfish, or else you never achieve. And once you get to your highest level, then you have to be unselfish. Stay reachable. Stay in touch. Don't isolate." So I don't have to be Einstein to know that what excellence in the theatre means to me, is stepping up and standing out by exploring excellence with my peers, like being here today. In closing, I will say that it seems like just yesterday that I was a young actor working on the stage of the old Goodman Theatre for the first time. I was in awe of the excellence around me, in my director Michael Maggio, in my fellow cast members like Mike Nussbaum, and in the determination of every single person in the cast and crew to create the most beautiful production that we as individuals and as a company could possibly create. As a young actor just trying to get started, I would never have imagined that I would one day be an Artistic Associate here, much less giving a keynote speech to my colleagues from throughout the state. I have been very blessed to have the career in the professional theatre that I have had. In all honesty, I do not think that I am an excellent director, or actor or teacher, but I think what has helped sustain my thirty year career is my desire, my need to Care, to Risk, to Dream and to Expect more. I am prone to not always be Wise, or Safe, or Lord knows, Practical, but I have never doubted that almost anything is possible. And I certainly never want to settle for what most might think is good enough. It has been an honor to share my thoughts and views with you here today, I only hope that these comments have made some sense, and that they will spur conversations about the excellence that we can achieve as individuals, and even more so as a collective, as a community of theatre professionals. Dinah shared a quote with me which is displayed on a poster in her classroom; they are the words of one of my personal hero's, Mahatma Ghandi, that I feel epitomize the notion of Stepping Up and Standing Out as we strive for excellence, as one and as many, to ensure a bright future for theatre in Illinois: "Be the change you want to see in the world." THANK YOU. Back to Top |
miracles in six short weeks! Yes, it was spearheaded by me, but I did what I know: direct; I found the best person for each job and put them to work. You all know that casting is 95% of the job, right? I aligned myself with a million dollar cast! Under Aimee-Lynn Newlan's guidance, I started gathering information about people's interest via a Google Form. We looked into possible dates and locations. Those interested went to their feeder schools to see if they would host, and Dinah Barthelmess secured 
