Academic literature on the topic 'Theater guild'

The achievements of Rodger and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma! (1943) are well known: since the musical opened, critics have proclaimed it a new version of the genre, distinguished by its “integrated” form, in which all aspects of the production—score, script, costume, set, and choreography—are interrelated and inseparable. Although today many scholars acknowledge that Oklahoma! was not the first musical to implement the concept of integration, the musical is often considered revolutionary. Building on the work of Tim Carter, I use the correspondence and press materials in the Theatre Guild Collection of the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University to situate the idea of integration into two intimately related discourses: contemporary notions of aesthetic prestige and World War II-era politics. By comparing the advertising of Oklahoma! to the Guild’s publicity for its previous musical productions (especially Porgy and Bess, which was labeled integrated in 1935), I demonstrate that press releases from the show’s creative team strategically deployed rhetoric and vocabulary that variously depicted the show as both highbrow and lowbrow, while distancing it from middlebrow entertainment. I then describe how the aesthetic register implied by this tiered rhetoric carried political overtones, connotations that are lost to us today because the word “integration” has become reified as a purely formal concept.

The results of the study of Kyiv music environment in the late 19 — early 20 centuries are presented through the analysis of business documentation. The peculiarities of researching the music environment of cities and the experience of using different types of sources when studying the music environment have been examined. The study of archival documents of Kyiv of this period allowed us to determine the specific components of the music environment of the city that were presented in the business documentation in late 19 — early 20 centuries. Our main source is data taken from archival institutions of Kyiv. We have identified blocks of data that reflects the conditions and tendencies of the city’s music life, such as the influence of government policies and censure restrictions on music and concert life and the formation of a contingent of musicians, the coexistence of old guild organization and new global trends in professional music making. The place of guilds in the music environment of Kyiv of late 19 century has been determined. Examples of applications for permission to perform songs in Ukrainian on the open stages of Kyiv and the reasons that prompted the performers or the administration of institutions to ask for such permits have been shown. Restrictions on residence in Kyiv that existed for Jewish musicians and Jewish entrants to music schools in Kyiv, as well as the reasons for the refusals have been presented. Data from reports and programs of educational institutions has been analysed. There are also examples of cases that illustrate the individual episodes of music life and allow to vividly recreate the atmosphere of the city at that time, such as an anonymous complaint of Kyiv citizens about the “obscenities” that took place in the Chateau de Fleur Garden and the Apollo Variety Theater, etc.

JAN KOTT has been a young man for as long as I have known him, which is going on twenty eight years, so the idea of celebrating his eightieth birthday boggles the mind. Jan Kott's clear mind has never been boggled in the slightest. It has functioned rather as a continuing source of youthful energy, original ideas, and dazzling insights. Therefore, one way to salute this innovative thinker is by trying to produce thoughts about the theatre inspired by his ground-breaking work, with the understanding that none of our perceptions will ever match those of the ‘onlie begetter.’ My own poor contribution is ‘The Theatre of Guilt’, which I hope he will recognize as an effort to help produce a cultural atmosphere where a theatre worthy of his imagination can still flourish. I offer it with respect and love for a man who, even when he reaches a hundred, will still, like Shakespeare, be ‘our contemporary’.

Recent performances of George Gershwin's opera Porgy and Bess have been based on the uncut score as published by the Gershwin Publishing Corporation, on the assumption that the composer intended it to be played in this "complete" form. Gershwin sent his score to the publisher some months before the New York premiere, mounted by the Theatre Guild on 10 October 1935 after a tryout performance in Boston. Extensive cuts and other changes were made during rehearsals and after Boston, all initiated or approved by Gershwin, who was intimately involved in the production; none of this is reflected in the published score, which was never revised. Five scores used in the Theatre Guild production enable us to reconstruct the opera as it was staged for the first time, in the form in which the composer "intended it to be played" on this occasion, and it is argued that consideration should be given to performing it this way today.

Policies such as America’s Missing: Broadcast Emergency Response Alerts, safe haven laws, Megan’s law, and three-strikes laws have provided the public with a feeling of safety and security. However, research has provided evidence that disputes their effectiveness. These types of laws and policies have become known as “crime control theater” (CCT) because they appear to be effective, serve the public’s best interests, and provide a crime control purpose but are largely ineffective and have unintended negative consequences. Using self-affirmation and emotion theory, this study examines potential explanations as to why individuals might support CCT policies. It also investigates whether support differs based on relevant characteristics (e.g., gender, sample type, and preexisting beliefs about policy effectiveness). Results suggest that females and Amazon Mechanical Turk (MTurk) workers tend to support CCT policies more than males and college students. Further, the relationship between gender and support was mediated by anticipatory guilt, and this effect was stronger for individuals who did not believe in the effectiveness of the policy. Results suggest that individuals who believe the policy is effective will support it more than those who do not, regardless of their anticipated guilt. In contrast, those who doubt the policy only support it if they anticipate feeling guilty; this effect is stronger for women. Results can help explain why people support policies that are largely ineffective and suggest that relevance to the issue can help explain why some groups are more supportive than others.

How has post-war Japanese theatre grappled with Japanese responsibility for its imperialistic/militaristic past in Asia, and for institutionalized discrimination against resident minorities? Using the tools of guilt, nostalgia, and the valorization of victimhood that are embedded in the idea of hōgan biiki (sympathy for the loser/victims), Carol Fisher Sorgenfrei here analyzes Japan's often contradictory, flip-flopping self-image as both victimizer and victim in relation to Korea and resident Koreans. Looking at both mainstream and alternative performances, her article suggests that despite attempts to discuss these issues openly, most theatre artists actually present images that soften or displace responsibility for the past. Carol Fisher Sorgenfrei is Professor Emerita of Theatre at UCLA, and was recently a Research Fellow at the Institute for Interweaving Performance Cultures, Freie Universität, Berlin. An authority on post-war Japanese and cross-cultural performance, she is also a translator, director, and award-winning playwright. Her books include Unspeakable Acts: the Avant-Garde Theatre of Terayama Shuji and Postwar Japan and the co-authored Theatre Histories: an Introduction. She has published numerous articles and presented papers and keynotes throughout the world. Professor Sorgenfrei is Associate Editor of Asian Theatre Journal and Editor of the Association for Asian Performance Newsletter.

When Harold Clurman died in 1980, he was almost as old as the century, but still in harness – perhaps the most venerable as well as the most versatile polymath of the American theatre. His life in the theatre extended from acting with the Theatre Guild in the ‘twenties, through his creation and direction of the Group Theatre in the ‘thirties, to a distinguished post-war career as free-lance director, highly respected theatre critic – first for the New Republic, then since 1953 for The Nation – and also theatre historian and university teacher. It was in this last role that, as a student, Joanna Rotté met Harold Clurman in 1969, and in the article which follows she blends personal recollections of an enduring friendship with a wider-ranging assessment of the qualities that distinguished Clurman as a critic and a human being. Joanna Rotté presently chairs the Theatre Department at Villanova University, Pennsylvania.

The thesis deals with the celection of suitable legal form for amateur theater group. The number of types of organizations, which are evaluated, is after the change of Civil Code quite huge and comprise besides non-profit organizations also border and mixed organizations. The main aim of thesis is to select the legal form, which is because of their characteristics the best for small amateur theater group and then set up an accountig system, which could the organization use. The amateur theater group is part of the Cultural department of the city, funded organization now. The main method is comparsion. Individually legal forms are compared according to valid laws and membership requirements, which is assigned a score. The sub-goals are creation of the code of rules and then set the accounting and taxes system.

A variety of demands have to be considered in the design of a new opera house in Galärvarvet. All possible viewpoints are important to be aware of, as is the need for the new building to be a contrast to the already existing opera house in Stockholm. The restricted site also makes a multitude of demands on the building's design. By rationalizing the layout and structure and also by making the footprint smaller, the complex building of over 30 000 square meters can be fitted and blended into the existing physical context. Unlike the existing opera house in Stockholm, the new opera house shows the rationality and the advanced technology that lies behind the scenes and becomes the character of the entire building. Through the dynamic façade, the new opera can convey any character it so desires, just like scenes do through different settings. The result is that the new opera house helps present the magic of any opera performance of any era or artistic content.<br>En ny operabyggnad i Galärvarvet ställer en rad olika krav på byggnaden. Den måste inte bara kunna betraktas från många olika vinklar och avstånd, utan också stå i kontrast till den redan befintliga operabyggnaden i Stockholm. Den trånga tomten ställer också en rad olika krav på byggnadens utformning. Genom att rationalisera planlösningen, strukturen och våga bygga på höjden kan det komplexa projektet på över 30 000 kvm få plats på tomten och smälter skalmässigt in i miljön. Till skillnad från den befintliga operan i Stockholm, knyter den nya Galäroperan an till rationaliteten och den avancerade tekniken som döljer sig bakom scenerna och görs här synlig för besökarna. Genom den smarta fasaden kan Galäroperan inta vilken karaktär den så önskar, på samma sätt som scenen ändrar karaktär genom scenografi. Galäroperan blir på så sätt spännande att betrakta från olika perspektiv och den dynamiska fasaden hjälper till att föra fram operans magi.

Fundada no dia 15 de Novembro de 1961, a Art Theatre Guild (ATG) japonesa começou por ser apenas uma distribuidora de filmes estrangeiros. O primeiro objectivo da companhia, composta por críticos influentes e pessoas ligadas ao cinema, era apresentar, pela primeira vez, um conjunto de cinematografias mundiais, comummente apelidadas de art-house, ao público japonês. Numa indústria ainda dominada pelos grandes estúdios de cinema e onde a distribuição das produções nacionais excedia mais do dobro das estrangeiras, a vinda desses filmes para salas selectas e a propagação dessa(s) refrescante(s) “estética(s) cinematográfica(s)” foi decisiva para o público e os cineastas japoneses conhecerem as obras contemporâneas de Jean Luc-Godard, Ingmar Bergman, Michelangelo Antonioni, Federico Fellini, Alain Resnais, Luis Buñuel mas também redescobrir Orson Welles ou até mesmo Sergei Eisenstein. A Nûberu Bâgu ou “A Nova Vaga do Cinema Japonês”, tendo sido cimentada pelos estúdios japoneses durante os primeiros anos da década de 60, via-se impossibilitada em continuar a filmar nesse contexto de produção, avesso ao arrojo estético e político, cada vez mais assinalável, das suas propostas. Por outro lado, uma nova geração de cineastas, vinda da cena emergente do documentário, sentia a necessidade de se exprimir fora dos formatos e condições que outro tipo de indústria, a dos filmes promocionais, lhe oferecia. Esta tensão entre criadores e produtores, assim como o subsequente ansejo de uma liberdade criativa sem barreiras e mediadores, foi o pano de fundo essencial para o ATG abrir a sua actividade enquanto produtora independente em 1967. Quer pelas inovadoras técnicas de produção, quer pela inventividade formal, carga política e o contexto social em que as obras foram produzidas, qualquer coisa de revolucionário tinha chegado ao cinema japonês. De 1967 a 1972, o catálogo das obras produzidas pelo ATG não era somente um amontoado de propostas sem ligação, realizadas por cineastas não alinhados (por exemplo, Ôshima Nagisa, Yoshida Kijû, Shinoda Masahiro, Matsumoto Toshio, Hani Susumu, Terayama Shûji, etc.), mas um conjunto complexo de obras que preconizava uma certa unidade estética, que, ainda v assim, não encontrava quaisquer ecos com a padronização dos grandes estúdios. A este estado de coisas tão sui-generis, porém nunca conceptualizado como tal pelos seus intervenientes mais directos, chamaremos de movimento. Esta dissertação concentrar-se-á em capturar a consistência e a pertinência deste baptismo, ao mesmo tempo que trará a terreiro um par de conceitos capaz de homogeneizar aquilo que, à primeira vista, parece heterogéneo. A partir da metáfora do músculo cardíaco que necessita de se contrair (sístole) e relaxar (diástole) para manter a circulação sanguínea de um organismo, também o movimento livre dos cineastas da ATG necessitou de explorar duas opções estéticas para construir um novo tipo de cinema: a primeira (sístole) caracteriza-se pelo enclausuramento da câmara no estúdio, a segunda (diástole) pela sua libertação nas ruas. Definirei as implicações espaciais e temporais do filme sistólico e diastólico, pondo igualmente em evidência o papel cimeiro da ATG na História do Cinema Japonês, como sendo, mais do que uma produtora, um modo de fazer cinema<br>Founded on the 15th of November 1961, the Art Theatre Guild (ATG) of Japan was originally a distributor of foreign films. The initial objective of the company, composed of influential critics and people with connections to the film world, was to introduce a group of international art-house films to the Japanese public for the first time. In an industry still dominated by the major studios and where the distribution of national productions was more than double that of foreign films, these screenings were significant for Japanese audiences and filmmakers alike, who were exposed to contemporary works from directors such as Jean Luc-Godard, Ingmar Bergman, Michelangelo Antonioni, Federico Fellini, Alain Resnais, and Luis Buñuel, and also provided an opportunity to discover the works of Orson Welles and Sergei Eisenstein. The "New Wave" of Japanese cinema was established by the main Japanese studios during the early sixties, but was unable to continue in that context due to the growing aesthetic and political radicalism of its participants. At the same time, a new generation of filmmakers from the emerging documentary scene felt the need to express themselves outside the conditions that the promotional film industry demanded. This tension between creators and producers, as well as the subsequent desire for creative freedom without barriers or mediators, was the catalyst for the ATG to begin activity as an independent production company in 1967. ATG's innovative production techniques and formal inventiveness paired with the social and political context of the films themselves was proof that something truly revolutionary had arrived in Japanese cinema. From 1967 to 1972, their catalogue was not simply a jumble of unrelated works made by unaffiliated filmmakers (eg Ôshima Nagisa, Yoshida Kijû, Shinoda Masahiro, Matsumoto Toshio, Hani Susumu, and Terayama Shûji), but a complex set of films with a certain aesthetic cohesion, a cohesion that was unlike the standardized style of the studios' "program pictures". We will refer to this unique scenario as a movement, though none of the filmmakers explicitly claimed to belong to one. This dissertation will focus on capturing the consistency and relevance of this movement, while introducing concepts that unify seemingly dissimilar elements. Like a heart muscle which must contract (systole) and relax (diastole) in order to maintain the circulation of blood in an organism, the free movement of the ATG filmmakers used two methods to construct a new form of cinema. The first (systole) is characterized by the enclosure of the camera in the studio space, while the second (diastole) is defined by the release of the camera into the streets. By defining the spatial and temporal implications of the systolic and diastolic style in ATG films, I will highlight the important role of the company and how it changed Japanese cinema. I will also argue that, more than a production company, the japanese ATG encompassed a mode of filmmaking.

<p>The moral and ethical choices made during the Nazi Occupation of France would echo for generations: they served as a source of pain and pride when the French sought to rebuild their national identity after the ignominy of the defeat, and acted as the foundation for the intellectual legacy on which post-war life stands.</p><p>In my dissertation I examine the diverse trajectory of two writers, Jean-Paul Sartre and Jean Giraudoux, during the Occupation by focusing on their dramatic works. During this period, no writer could legally exercise his vocation and receive compensation without submitting to certain legalities designed to monitor the content of artistic output. Therefore, any author who published did, at least in some small way, collaborate. This particular line in the sand has become blurred with time and usage. Critics and intellectuals, not to mention the legal system, have initially categorized artists' politics, then, when the boundaries (or public opinion) have shifted, they have chosen to reclassify. Collaborationist, resistant, or neutral - these three convenient labels cannot do justice to the vast array of colors in the Occupation-era landscape. </p><p>Writers, like the public at large, responded to the Occupation by becoming extreme collaborators, opportunists, simply earning their daily bread, or becoming fierce resistants, with an infinite number of various roles in between. Although critics have historically attempted to evaluate Jean-Paul Sartre's and Jean Giraudoux's actions in order to classify them as "resistant" or "collabo," this is a reductive act. Both men, like so many Frenchmen of this period, made an infinite number of small and large decisions that refracted their post-war image according to which critic held the prism. The historiography with regards to this era has dramatically changed. Must the manner in which we "categorize" these two authors not change accordingly? </p><p>With this question in mind, I have carefully studied the authors' primary texts (plays, essays, critiques, memoirs, and letters). In particular, I focus on their theatrical offerings: Les mouches, Huis clos, and La folle de Chaillot, as these are their best-known works of the era. Next, I examined biographies of the Sartre and Giraudoux (as well as other major historical, political, and literary figures) in order to gain as much background information as possible, and moreover, to identify both tendencies and discrepancies with regards to the authors. After this I sifted through the contemporary press related to these two authors, including theatrical reviews of their plays, their own publications in order re-evaluate the Occupation-era theatrical offerings of Sartre and Giraudoux. I have chosen to focus mainly on their plays from the era, as it those are their best-known works, and the those which had the most influence, in creating their political legacy and reputation during the Occupation. Finally, I applied the theories from contemporary historians - Robert Paxton, Henry Rousso, Philippe Burrin, and Gisèle Sapiro among others - in order to develop my own analysis of the theater of Sartre and Giraudoux and their post-war legacy.</p><p>Themes centering on guilt and condemnation abound during the war, especially in these three works. Fueled by De Gaulle's myths of an almost unilaterally resistant French population, the immediate post-war period focused on deliverance from an exterior enemy. However, contrary to popular interpretation, the plays in my corpus condemn the enemy within, the French betrayal of the French.</p><br>Dissertation

L’essai Au théâtre on meurt pour rien. Raconter la mort sans coupable, entre Maeterlinck et Chaurette, compare divers usages dramatiques du récit de mort sous l’éclairage de la généalogie nietzschéenne de l’inscription mémorielle. Pour illustrer l’hypothèse d’une fonction classique du témoin de la mort − donner sens au trépas en le situant dans une quête scénique de justice −, l’essai fait appel à des personnages-types chez Eschyle, Shakespeare et Racine. En contraste, des œuvres du dramaturge moderne Maeterlinck (Intérieur) et du dramaturge contemporain Normand Chaurette (Fragments d’une lettre d’adieu lus par des géologues, Stabat Mater II) sont interprétées comme logeant toute leur durée scénique dans un temps de la mort qui dépasserait la recherche d’un coupable absolu ; une étude approfondie les distingue toutefois par la valeur accordée à l’insolite et à la banalité, ainsi qu’à la singularité des personnages. Le plancher sous la moquette est une pièce de théâtre en trois scènes et trois registres de langue, pour deux comédiennes. Trois couples de sœurs se succèdent dans le salon d’un appartement, jadis une agence de détective qui a marqué leur imaginaire d’enfant. Thématiquement, la pièce déplace le lien propre aux films noirs entre l’enquête et la ville, en y juxtaposant le brouillage temporel qu’implique l’apparition de fantômes. Chacune des trois scènes déréalise les deux autres en redistribuant les mêmes données selon une tonalité autre, mais étrangement similaire, afin d’amener le spectateur à douter du hors-scène : le passé, l’appartement, Montréal. Son réflexe cartésien de traquer la vérité doit le mener à découvrir que les scènes ne vont pas de l’ombre à la lumière, mais qu’elles montrent plutôt que dans l’une et l’autre, la mort n’échappe pas aux trivialités de la mémoire.<br>The essay Au théâtre on meurt pour rien. Raconter la mort sans coupable, entre Maeterlinck et Chaurette (On stage death is useless. Recounting of death without culprit, between Maeterlinck and Chaurette) compare different dramatic uses of death testimony under the perspective of Nietzsche’s genealogy of memory recording. To illustrate the assumption of a classic function given to the death witness – making sense out of death by locking it in a scenic quest for justice −, the essay summons typical characters in Eschyle, Shakespeare and Racine. Then, plays by the modern playwright Maeterlinck (Intérieur) and the contemporary playwright Normand Chaurette (Fragments d’une lettre d’adieu lus par des géologues, Stabat Mater II) are interpreted as inscribing their whole plot in a death term where no definite culprit is needed; on the other hand, further reading reveals different values given in both proposition to triviality and strangeness, as to the singularity of characters. Le plancher sous la moquette (The floor under the carpet) is a play in three acts and three levels of speech for two actresses. Three couples of sisters come back into the living room of an apartment, once a detective agency that remained printed in their child memories. Thematically, the play moves the classic bind in "film-noir" between investigation and the city, by introducing the time interferences associated with ghosts. Each one of the three acts cast a shadow over the two others by re-enacting the same elements on a different but strangely similar tone, thus bringing the audience to doubt the existence of what is not on stage: the past, the other rooms, Montreal. The logical longing the audience has for the truth will lead it to discover that the scenes don’t enlighten the dark, but reveal that death never escapes the coarseness of memory.

This chapter looks at the operations of popular culture during the war, the rise of socially conscious theater in the 1930s, which established the aesthetic and ideological contexts in which theater about the war was produced, the economics and audiences for Broadway theater, and the cultural place of theater in American life in the 1930s and 1940s. The theater of the 1930s was unusually politically conscious, primarily due to the Great Depression, which engendered heightened awareness of class divisions and the distribution of wealth. This social consciousness led to the rise of theater groups like the Theater Guild, the Group Theater, and the Federal Theater Project, which often expressed anti-Nazi or antifascist views.

The pre-premiere publicity for Oklahoma! generated by the Theatre Guild fixed many of the themes that would dominate its reception history. The Guild had already established a pattern of creating musical versions of plays it had previously staged, by way of George and Ira Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess of 1935. Its executive director, Theresa Helburn, tried to persuade a number of Broadway composers to pick up the torch, including Kurt Weill (for Ferenc Molnár’s play Liliom, which later became Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel). She also saw some potential in Lynn Rigg’s Green Grow the Lilacs, first done by the Guild in late 1930. Riggs was one of a new generation of “regional” playwrights, and he drew on his own upbringing in Claremore, Oklahoma, for a work interweaving vernacular dialogue and cowboy songs. Rodgers and Hammerstein, however, came from quite other theatrical traditions; anything they did would necessarily be very different.

Oklahoma! was a surprising success on Broadway, and although the Theatre Guild considered other possible creative teams for new musicals, the now-sealed Rodgers and Hammerstein partnership proved hard to resist. A touring company was in place by late summer 1943, and Oklahoma! traveled internationally after the end of World War II (not least, to London’s West End in 1947); meanwhile, the Guild needed to replace cast members leaving one or other productions of the show. In 1953, Rodgers and Hammerstein bought the Guild’s rights to all three of the shows they had done under its auspices (including Carousel and Allegro). In part, this was to maximize their profits from intended film versions. The 1955 film of Oklahoma! took advantage of the new Todd-AO wide-screen process and location shooting to produce a vivid rendition of the show that, however, also needed to be followed, or resisted, in subsequent stage versions.

In this short frame for a creative research project, we outline a theatrical form that we are tentatively calling “redemptive theatre” – theatre that tells stories of people struggling with a mistake, a burden of guilt or an experience of being wronged. We created this form in the context of privileged South Africans navigating the landscape of systemic injustice and unconscious bias. We have performed the first version of redemptive theatre three times and, through a participatory action research process, documented the form and its principles as outlined here. The process has shown itself to consist of three distinct phases: first, identification of the story; second, developing the script; and third, the performance. After the initial identification process, it was performed and reworked three times to produce the current structural design. We present this design to encourage performances that reframe dominant and habitual narratives, disrupt boundaries, challenge stereotypes and give people a chance to redeem themselves, both in their own eyes and in other people’s. The form of redemptive theatre aligns with Jacques Rancière’s idea of an aesthetic regime and the concept of democracy as a redistribution of what can be seen, heard and experienced. By framing stories that are politically unpopular, we bring stories to the fore that are silenced (unseen and unheard).