Do you want the audience back, Sarah Sluimer? Then give it back to the actors.

In the Volkskrant of 8 May 2017 lets Sarah Sluimer off the hook. The opinion maker (for Volkskrant and De Correspondent, among others) used to be a theatre maker and now wonders aloud why she is a bit done with theatre. Because she actually writes that down. I quote: 'I breathed theatre. I ate performances and was convinced that what happened there, in those halls was of great importance to the soul of the people. Without art, no life. But when I started doing other things after some time, I only saw what a microcosm the theatre world actually is. A regular theatre visit does not occur to most of my friends: it is perceived as a special outing. And as tiring too, an art form that is not for relaxation, but for which the spectator has to work hard.'

Sarah's dropping out is recognisable. Since I am no longer professionally involved in theatre on a daily basis, I have noticed the same thing as Sarah, and worse. Discussions on social media about that theatre (because let's face it: this is mostly about theatre) really never take place between 'makers' and 'audience', but between 'makers' and 'creators'. Now you could blame that on the fact that my timelines consist of mere 'makers', but that is not so. The more massive the medium, the less theatre plays a role in that medium, even if there are no editors behind it.

Whose fault is it altogether?

I too have very regularly wondered who could be to blame, this marginalisation of theatre arts. I have naturally blamed the subsidisers, but certainly also with municipalities that want to have a prestige object in their village coute que coute. Such a prestige project is then usually a theatre. Or rather a theatre/library/sports hall/elderly fitness/bingo and municipal hall that is then given a strange local name. Not only are there too many of these, they all lack money, are too empty and therefore lack local support.

What Sarah Sluimer does now, however, goes a step further: she denounces the audience. The audience that no longer wants to find its way to the theatre. The audience that would rather choose Netflix or football: 'You who don't know what you are missing. You who gloat about the Dutch theatre, which has achieved so much success across borders. You who have no desire to take on anything, to be overwhelmed by something that may cause you some discomfort, but from which you can derive so much pleasure and life knowledge.'

Distrust

This is, of course, the ultimate weakness. A weakness rooted in the deep distrust of the public that is still taught in many art schools. After all, as an artist in training, you should develop your own thing, and avoid any knee-jerk reaction to the public. As if caring about your viewers or listeners is not an integral part of any communication. But let me leave even that aside. Because 'being mindful of your audience' in no way has to come at the expense of the content you want to convey. You just need to understand what the audience is actually coming for.

And audiences may come for 'flat' entertainment at times, but audiences mainly come for the live event that is being with the people on stage. So in theatre, the audience really comes first and foremost for the actors. Not for the programme booklet, not for the name of the company, not for the solid social message, not for that story similar to your own divorce, but for the actors. The people on that stage. People they know from the internet. From TV. From a magazine. From a blog, From a previous performance in which that person made them laugh.

Anthem

Logical, you will say with Sarah Sluimer. But that is so not logical. In Dutch theatre - partly thanks to the rise of collectives in recent decades - an anti-fame cult has emerged. I call that modesty extremism. It's not about me, the actors say in chorus, but about what we all mean. To say. But the spectator, in many cases, will not care. The audience does not want to see an anonymous mass (even if there are three of you) on stage, but actors. People with whom they can enter into an intimate relationship for that one evening. The story, the message, the set: vehicles, not a goal.

From Shakespeare to Molière, from the first theatres in the 17th century to Ko van Dijk, Jeroen Willems, Mary Dresselhuys, Hans Croiset and Halina Reijn: the actor is the only thing that matters on stage, and you, theatre-makers, directors, colleagues, dramaturges and journalists have fought that tooth and nail. Because there is the ground level of the collective message, post-dramatic theatre or whatever other concealing term you have coined for it.

No wonder the audience stays away.

View the Theatre Festival selection of this year once with that knowledge. And suddenly understand why it's not at all weird for a solo artist like Wende Snijders to pop up in it.