I've been reading about and looking forward to the upcoming Summit meeting proposed by Andrew Hobgood of The New Colony and a few thoughts have been whirling around in me ol' noggin as I've been checking out the various blogs starting to crop up. I, too, have concerns and it's more about how the *tone* (gasp!) of the first meeting is going to be and how I fear that if it turns into a bunch of people railing about how it didn't work before, then we're never going to get the horse out of the gate, yet again, because it will squeeze hope, energy and good cheer right out of the room. I'm sure those three words make those looking to fuck shit up cringe against the wall as a vampire gasps when facing garlic and a cross, but, seriously, you can't get anything going without a little inspired spark and good faith. How did you start your respective theatre companies? Or your blogs, for that matter?
I don't know why Andrew has to earn the trust of the Calloused. I don't know the guy yet. I haven't heard all that he has to say. I don't even know what the chap look like. I'm not going to cast my judgments until the meeting is over. I'm going to try to not cast judgment at all, if I can help it. I'm looking to make good on what is proposed, talked about, and acted upon. You realize that you, too, have to earn his trust. None of us really know how we work, how we handle projects, how we handle tasks, how we handle working together as a group. Unless you've worked together. And, even then ... think about it. I don't know how everyone works, because I've never worked, personally, as an artistic director with anyone planning on attending this meeting. Why should I trust anyone? Why should I trust you? Why should you trust those you've known for years? How do you know they're not undermining you at every turn? To be quite honest, I give everyone the benefit of the doubt until they fuck me or mine over and then, bam, that trust is gone. It might be earned back, but ... it definitely takes time. And, I probably won't work professionally with those people ever again. So, right now, I trust Hobgood. Until he shows me otherwise or proves that trust wrong. I'm going to hope for the best and take that little leap of faith I mentioned earlier.
Truth be told, I'm excited to hear about Alternatives. Alternatives to the League. Alternatives to the Jeffs. Alternatives to why this deal will work when the others haven't gotten off the ground. I like that this might be a Summit for just the Storefront scene. I want to collaborate with my Storefront brethren. We've got major collaborations in the works for 2011, in fact, so I'm interested in seeing what we might put on the table together.
I like a lot of the ideas already proposed online. Danielle's Physical Resource Sharing. Scott Barsotti's Critical Recordings and Volunteer Co-op. Tony's Rental Sharing and Theatre Crawl. All of those ideas were found in the comments here. I love how Nick Keenan and Dan Granata are slowly but surely taking action to share online resources and buoy the general spirit of our Chicago theatre practitioners.
As far as my attendance at the meeting goes, I plan on being present in every way possible, listening and going with whatever is proposed if it works for my sensibilities and the good of my theatre company. If the ideas don't have the potential to hold water or, to be honest, I don't want to work with the people attending the summit because they're showing that they don't want to work with anybody but their own kind or I and others can't get a word in edgewise because you're blowing your hot steam, loudly, in all directions, I don't plan on making a stink about it. I'm just going to accept that it ain't my scene. I'm going to keep on doing what we've been doing all along. No harm. No foul. I'll wish everyone luck in their enterprises and hope that the Summit will accomplish something. Anything.
I just want to see what happens. I'm hoping for the best. I don't want to have a meeting that reminds me of Reservoir Dogs where everyone's blazing their guns and their ideals and looking sexy lying in their own pool of blood at the end of the day, sweaty hair plastered to their foreheads. If that happens, however, I'd like to go on the record and say that I'm a Mr. Pink kind of girl. He's the only guy who got out of the place alive with his professionalism in tact and he's the guy I'd get behind in the end. Even if he doesn't tip. Mr. Blonde might bite instead of bark but he's a crazy motherfucker. Mr. White's too goddamn loyal and trustworthy for his own good. And, of course, we know about Mr. Orange. Even if he is awfully cute when he's fuckin' dying, Larry...
So, I propose, before the meeting has a date, that we all get our grievances out on the blog table, so we can join the Summit with all that crap left at the door. I want to move forward. I want to accomplish ... something. Again ... I know it can happen.
I'll see you at the Summit.