At Least One Person Will Understand This

I typically address you as Constant Reader in these weekly posts, my hypothetical friend, and there are a few reasons for this particular affectation.  Partly it’s an acknowledgement of the weekly nature of these missives, with the implied promise that there’ll be something new to read each (and you therefore have an incentive to keep checking in).  Partly, of course, it’s because I’m pretentious as hell.  But the simplest reason is that, by and large, I don’t know who you are.  It’s a website.  People surf the web in anonymity (they hope).  I have a few basic assumptions about who you might be – you’re interested in the musings of a New York arts professional, for whatever reason – but beyond that, you could be anybody, and I try and keep that in mind when posting.

However, there are a few individuals who I know read this regularly.  My friend Arthur is one of these individuals – and as it happens, I was fortunate enough to attend a reading of a series of his short plays this past weekend.  We had a delightful time catching up – and in the course of that conversation, a tremendous amount of theatrical gossip was brought up.

It’s here that I face a conundrum, Constant Reader.  I don’t normally traffic in this sort of gossip; regardless of how distasteful I might find it, the real issue is that it might pose a liability to discuss it on my professional website.  None of this gossip is personal in nature, however, but touches on the precarious state of theatrical institutions at the moment.  And other than slaving away at revisions, it’s really all I have to report this week.  So, at the risk of writing a post that only one person in my audience can possibly understand…

In talking about how I still [REDACED] for [REDACTED], the conversation turned to how [REDACTED] will only be at [REDACTED] through [REDACTED], largely as a result of ongoing accessibility issues due to [REDACTED].  Naturally, this led to the topic of how [REDACTED], where [REDACTED] had previously been based, was now [REDACTED].  While the closing of theaters during the pandemic certainly didn’t help matters, it wasn’t the actual cause of [REDACTED].  No, I explained, what happened was [REDACTED] had [REDACTED] several years ago, in order to [REDACTED].  This meant that when the pandemic came, [REDACTED was faced with a massive loss of income which threatened [REDACTED}.  [REDACTED] attempted to [REDACTED] in order to generate alternate income, but all this managed to do was [REDACTED], as well as antagonize [REDACTED] because of [REDACTED].  Furthermore, an outside party was able to [REDACTED], causing [REDACTED}.  After a protracted legal battle, [REDACTED] was finally [REDACTED], and because [REDACTED] drove away other [REDACTED], [REDACTED] was ultimately purchased by none other than [REDACTED].

This led my friend to bring up [REDACTED], who currently runs [REDACTED] and was, prior to the pandemic and [REDACTED], one of the only theatrical producers still willing to deal with [REDACTED}.  However, [REDACTED] has encountered problems of their own, largely stemming from [REDACTED] instituting [REDACTED].  This hasn’t been done lightly – [REDACTED] has a long and sordid history of [REDACTED], using [REDACTED} as a shield against accountability.  Nevertheless, as the word is getting out, [REDACTED] is refusing to [REDACTED], and so another storied company is threatened by [REDACTED}.

These are difficult times for theater, and those of us who make it need to be very careful about the business practices we employ – we need to be ethical, and we need to figure out how to survive.  So I hope [REDACTED] was helpful!

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