ppalled by this display of inappropriate theatrics, the team disperses to try to come up with a less insensitive solution and improv more ideas. We see the charm of the actors radiate from line to line and bit to bit. Their comedic skills and understanding of the piece is incredibly evident and thoroughly enjoyed. We give the spotlight to their skills when Logan comes up with an idea to acknowledge the lack of representation in the room, but letting the absence of indigenous voices speak. As a theater maker, I found this idea incredibly effective. And we see the other characters realize that too and begin to object to this concept. Jaxton even claims that “by silencing the Native voices we’ve made them too strong. Silence is so powerful on stage. Our characters can’t compete with that.” They begin to debate more about how to create a world where everyone is equal and people don’t have to compensate for the previous imbalances. What comes from this is a hilarious crafted full circle of PC conceits and language so tied up in one another that it starts to justify centering white people again. Exhausted by this, the argument becomes personal and digs a deeper hole into how privileged people are desperate to experience something close to discrimination so they can have their reason for feeling such feelings like marginalized communities feel. Things bubble and bubble until a soft spotlight appears: representing simplicity. The piece they have been searching for was right in front of them. A fully empty spot with nothing. Or as Logan calls it, “perfectly equitable emptiness.” They found their answer: to do nothing. Make a piece about nothing. Then everyone will be happy right? All the preceding pressures of Donors and school boards and parents will dissipate, because they can’t get mad over nothing.
Larissa Fasthorse. Photo credit: Conor Horgan