Randall Stuart & Sharron Bower

Art Is Peace, War Is Passe
Opening for the July 2003 Symposium

(Berkeley Rep, California)
 
Welcome. The board of directors of Upon These Boards is proud to have you as our guests this evening.  Allow me to express why I believe we need such a series of discussions about Art & Activism in precisely-these-times...and why we need to take out our tool belts (equipped with paintbrushes, pencils, corsets and toe-shoes) and rebuild the platform for such a presentation and discussion as tonight’s.
 
The reason to hold this pow-wow was inspired from the experience (5 months ago) of a production of Lysistrata which happened just next door at the Roda Theatre, as part of a worldwide event.  Addison Street was filled to the brim with attendees who feared that a war, in their name and with their money, was about to be launched. These people were lined-up, not only here, but in over 12 spectacular readings in the Bay Area, and 1,029 readings worldwide.  Art was having its’ day, and using all of its’ aspects to empower an action of Will and Consciousness and Love.  There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that it was an artful prayer which most certainly did stop the war for a day. Thereafter, the war was rudely held…and lingers still.
 
My friends from other countries ask what it's like to be an American artist during these times, and I am haunted by a particular childhood memory:  I was little then, and lived by a foggy hill which had been indigenous Ohlone Tribe territory, and we kids played there, and you could find fossilized sea creatures on the steep side…we were fascinated with how that hill could have possibly been under water.  And there was the exhilarating rumor that dinosaur bones were just below, that some of the neighborhood's teen super heroes had excavated an entire Tyrannosaurus Rex. (Bobby Rogovsky said he'd show us the dinosaur for a dollar. Bobby later went into county politics…and then, as rumor had it, had a stay in the State Pen)  But to the hill. My brothers would climb it and bring back Native American arrowheads. And then we found out from some authorities that it wasn't okay.  (It's never nice to take things twice.)
 
Well, this memory came flooding back when I read the e-mail this January which asked "Will you become a spearhead for the Lysistrata Project?” Of course, the phrase ‘spearhead’ must have been used in an ironic fashion, and I thought "Assuredly. I would be honored to lead a version of this Worldwide Theatrical Project For Peace." And somehow, the reason I needed to do this particular action, after many years of progressive causes & campaigns, was a sense memory of being 8 years old on the fossil hill on the particular day that I ran away from home (for about 2 hours). 
 
It was cold, as usual, and I was weeping for life's injustices, and for some reason I was barefoot, and had packed only a brown bag of my puppets.  That's all I took. I simpered, but felt positive at the same time, I have to tell you - and directed the puppets to dig for fossils with their little felt hands.  I would turn to look at the city below and so the wind would whip the tears off my cheeks.  My dramatic wuthering hermitage lasted for about two hours. And this, with an added imaginary-but-sweeping soundtrack, has become the central memory I jag-on when asked "what it's like to be an American artist during these time." Cold, rocky, slippery & dusty, with a powerful threat of extinction. And now it's Now, and the great majority of my artisan friends have been forced to leave their craft.  And that, is not the news of either a great or civilized country.
 
Now it's true, that only a decade later, I consciously ran away with a gypsy theatre clan, never looking back…and that was during a supreme times for the Arts, the 1970's (if you were good, you worked).  And now, the next thing I know? - it's been three decades and I find myself here tonight: an activist who wishes to use my art to make peace, to discover the depths of this Earth's needs, and the story of the creatures upon her - and to constantly strive to reinvent the way I am.  So with each step, upon Good Earth, I remind myself that I can do much better for my host, this blue and watery planet. She's done me no harm.  I bring her offerings.
 
Lysistrata Project did just that for me, made me feel connected with my craft in the truest manner.  I felt my cells change.  There was something in the room, an incubation, an ignition.
 
And! I do foresee that the meek are most likely to inherit what's left of this world…and along with it, the War Scars as a terrible legacy.  And I propose here tonight, that War is, has been, and will be proven to be Obsolete.  Just embarrassingly out-of-date.  Leading us nowhere at all except to hills once flooded in water, with dark stories buried beneath. And! to pursue the pattern, the habit of War…is to remain asleep.  Let's instead imagine the gathering, quite soon, when we are around our new fire, dialoguing, negotiating and sharing the stories of our universe. Yes, it will take time to calm the rage in us. But we have already begun, again, tonight.
 
Artists, generally speaking, have been on the other side of the War canvas, implying "Hey, stop it you guys! Can't you just talk it out?"  And theatre artists can attest to this kind of need for wakefulness and ensemble work. "Waiting in the wings" is a true launching pad - our cue ignites the story the moment the lights warm.  The play, and the characters within, have a remarkable thing to do: not just make you forget yourself for two hours, but to engage.  In fact, to remember ourselves, and feel the play rattle our heart or tickle our bones.
 
Tonight we are proud to bring you two such Bright Lights.  When I think of Kathryn or Sharron - or are in their presence - I feel far from the barefoot boy whose frightened puppets are covered in old sad dust.  It's a true delight to introduce two women who, it seems to me, are national heroes...perhaps accidental activists...and certainly easy on the eyes!  As well as tenacious; reminding me that we are not simply lumbering in the footsteps of the dinosaurs.  Their vision (fueled by the millions of souls who hopped-on to their wild ride last March) was turned into a worldwide phenomena in six weeks time: Lysistrata Project. And we simply knew we had to bring them-out to meet each of you, both live tonight and via broadcast. So, please welcome the co-creators of Lysistrata Project, direct from New York and Vermont, and here in Berkeley tonight with you:  Kathryn Blume and Sharron Bower.