Theater matters because democracy matters. Theater is the essential art form of democracy, and we know this because they were born in the same city.
Pozorište je važno zato što je demokratija važna. Pozorište je suštinski umetnički oblik demokratije, a to znamo jer su oboje rođeni u istom gradu.
In the late 6th century BC, the idea of Western democracy was born. It was, of course, a very partial and flawed democracy, but the idea that power should stem from the consent of the governed, that power should flow from below to above, not the other way around, was born in that decade. And in that same decade, somebody -- legend has it, somebody named Thespis -- invented the idea of dialogue.
U kasnom VI veku pre nove ere, ideja o zapadnoj demokratiji je rođena. Radilo se, naravno, o krajnje parcijalnoj i faličnoj demokratiji, ali zamisao da bi moć trebalo da proizlazi iz saglasnosti onih kojima se vlada, da bi moć trebalo da potiče sa dna ka vrhu, a ne obrnuto, rođena je u toj deceniji. A u toj istoj deceniji, neko - legenda kaže neko po imenu Tespid - izumeo je ideju dijaloga.
What does that mean, to invent dialogue? Well, we know that the Festival of Dionysus gathered the entire citizenry of Athens on the side of the Acropolis, and they would listen to music, they would watch dancing, and they would have stories told as part of the Festival of Dionysus. And storytelling is much like what's happening right now: I'm standing up here, the unitary authority, and I am talking to you. And you are sitting back, and you are receiving what I have to say. And you may disagree with it, you may think I'm an insufferable fool, you may be bored to death, but that dialogue is mostly taking place inside your own head.
Šta znači izumeti dijalog? Pa, znamo da je dionizijski festival okupljao sve građane Atine na padini Akropolja, i slušali bi muziku, posmatrali bi ples i pripovedali bi im priče kao deo dionizijskog festivala. A pripovedanje je prilično nalik onome što se trenutno dešava: stojim ovde gore, centralni sam autoritet i razgovaram s vama. A vi sedite zavaljeni i primate ono što vam govorim. I možete da se ne slažete s tim, možete da me smatrate za nepodnšljivu budalu, možete da se na smrt dosađujete, ali taj dijalog se uglavnom dešava u vašoj sopstvenoj glavi.
But what happens if, instead of me talking to you -- and Thespis thought of this -- I just shift 90 degrees to the left, and I talk to another person onstage with me? Everything changes, because at that moment, I'm not the possessor of truth; I'm a guy with an opinion. And I'm talking to somebody else. And you know what? That other person has an opinion too, and it's drama, remember, conflict -- they disagree with me. There's a conflict between two points of view. And the thesis of that is that the truth can only emerge in the conflict of different points of view. It's not the possession of any one person. And if you believe in democracy, you have to believe that. If you don't believe that, you're an autocrat who is putting up with democracy. But that's the basic thesis of democracy, that the conflict of different points of views leads to the truth.
Ali, šta se desi ako se, umesto da ja govorim vama, a Tepsid se dosetio ovoga, prosto okrenem za 90 stepeni nalevo i razgovaram sa drugom osobom koja je na sceni sa mnom? Sve se menja jer u tom trenutku ja ne posedujem istinu; ja sam lik sa mišljenjem. I razgovaram s nekim drugim. I znate šta? Ta druga osoba takođe ima mišljenje, a, setite se, radi se o drami, sukobu - druga osoba se ne slaže sa mnom. Imamo sukob između dve tačke gledišta. A teza iza toga glasi da istina jedino može da izraste iz sukoba različitih tački gledišta. Istinu ne poseduje bilo koji pojedinac. A ako verujete u demokratiju, morate da verujete u to. Ako ne verujete u to, autokrata ste koji trpi demokratiju. Međutim, to je osnovna teza demokratije, da sukob različitih tačaka gledišta vodi do istine.
What's the other thing that's happening? I'm not asking you to sit back and listen to me. I'm asking you to lean forward and imagine my point of view -- what this looks like and feels like to me as a character. And then I'm asking you to switch your mind and imagine what it feels like to the other person talking. I'm asking you to exercise empathy. And the idea that truth comes from the collision of different ideas and the emotional muscle of empathy are the necessary tools for democratic citizenship.
Šta se još dešava? Ne tražim od vas da sedite zavaljeni i da me slušate. Tražim od vas da se nagnete napred i zamislite moju tačku gledišta - kako ovo izgleda meni i kakav je osećaj biti lik kao ja. A onda tražim od vas da promenite mišljenje i da zamislite kako se oseća druga osoba koja govori. Tražim od vas da ispoljite empatiju. A zamisao da istina potiče iz sudara različitih ideja i emotivna snaga empatije su nužna sredstva za demokratsku pripadnost.
What else happens? The third thing really is you, is the community itself, is the audience. And you know from personal experience that when you go to the movies, you walk into a movie theater, and if it's empty, you're delighted, because nothing's going to be between you and the movie. You can spread out, put your legs over the top of the stadium seats, eat your popcorn and just enjoy it. But if you walk into a live theater and you see that the theater is half full, your heart sinks. You're disappointed immediately, because whether you knew it or not, you were coming to that theater to be part of an audience. You were coming to have the collective experience of laughing together, crying together, holding your breath together to see what's going to happen next. You may have walked into that theater as an individual consumer, but if the theater does its job, you've walked out with a sense of yourself as part of a whole, as part of a community. That's built into the DNA of my art form.
Šta se još dešava? Uistinu, treća stvar ste vi, sama zajednica, publika. A znate iz ličnog iskustva da, kada pođete u bioskop, ušetate u bioskopsku salu, a ako je prazna, oduševljeni ste, jer se ništa neće preprečiti između vas i filma. Možete da se razbaškarite, podignete noge preko sedišta, jedete kokice i prosto uživate. Međutim, ako ušetate u pozorište i vidite da je sala polupuna, pokunjite se. Istog trena se razočarate jer bili toga svesni ili ne, došli ste u to pozorište kako biste bili deo publike. Došli ste radi kolektivnog iskustva smejanja zajedno, plakanja zajedno, zaustavljanja daha zajedno zbog onoga što sledi. Možda ste ušetali u pozorište kao pojedinačni potrošač, ali ako pozorište odradi svoj posao, išetali ste sa utiskom sebe kao dela celine, dela zajednice. To je ugrađeno u DNK mog umetničkog oblika.
Twenty-five hundred years later, Joe Papp decided that the culture should belong to everybody in the United States of America, and that it was his job to try to deliver on that promise. He created Free Shakespeare in the Park. And Free Shakespeare in the Park is based on a very simple idea, the idea that the best theater, the best art that we can produce, should go to everybody and belong to everybody, and to this day, every summer night in Central Park, 2,000 people are lining up to see the best theater we can provide for free. It's not a commercial transaction.
Dve i po hiljade godina kasnije, Džo Pap je odlučio da kultura treba da pripada svima u Sjedinjenim Američkim Državama i da je njegova dužnost da pokuša da ostvari to obećanje. Osnovao je „Besplatnog Šekspira u parku“. A „Besplatni Šekspir u parku“ je zasnovan na krajnje prostoj ideji, ideji da bi najbolje pozorište, najbolja umetnost koju možemo da stvorimo trebalo da je za sve i da pripada svima, i dan-danas svake letnje večeri u Central parku poređa se 2 000 ljudi kako bi posmatrali najbolje pozorište koje možemo da pružimo besplatno. Ne radi se o komercijalnoj razmeni.
In 1967, 13 years after he figured that out, he figured out something else, which is that the democratic circle was not complete by just giving the people the classics. We had to actually let the people create their own classics and take the stage. And so in 1967, Joe opened the Public Theater downtown on Astor Place, and the first show he ever produced was the world premiere of "Hair." That's the first thing he ever did that wasn't Shakespeare. Clive Barnes in The Times said that it was as if Mr. Papp took a broom and swept up all the refuse from the East Village streets onto the stage at the Public.
Godine 1967, 13 godina nakon što je to shvatio, shvatio je još nešto, a to je da demokratski krug nije bio dovršen pukim pružanjem klasika narodu. Zapravo smo morali da dozvolimo ljudima da stvaraju sopstvene klasike i da preuzmu scenu. Pa je 1967. godine Džo otvorio Narodno pozorište u centru Njujorka na Astor plejsu, a prva predstava koju je producirao je bila svetska premijera „Kose“. To je prva stvar koju je ikad postavio, a da nije Šekspir. Klajv Barns iz „Tajmsa“ je rekao da se činilo kao da je g. Pap uzeo metlu i pomeo sve otpatke sa ulica u Ist Vilidžu na scenu Narodnog.
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
He didn't mean it complimentarily, but Joe put it up in the lobby, he was so proud of it.
Nije to mislio kao kompliment, ali Džo je izjavu stavio u predvorje; bio je silno ponosan na nju.
(Laughter) (Applause)
(Smeh) (Aplauz)
And what the Public Theater did over the next years with amazing shows like "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide / When the Rainbow Is Enuf," "A Chorus Line," and -- here's the most extraordinary example I can think of: Larry Kramer's savage cry of rage about the AIDS crisis, "The Normal Heart." Because when Joe produced that play in 1985, there was more information about AIDS in Frank Rich's review in the New York Times than the New York Times had published in the previous four years. Larry was actually changing the dialogue about AIDS through writing this play, and Joe was by producing it. I was blessed to commission and work on Tony Kushner's "Angels in America," and when doing that play and along with "Normal Heart," we could see that the culture was actually shifting, and it wasn't caused by the theater, but the theater was doing its part to change what it meant to be gay in the United States. And I'm incredibly proud of that.
A ono što je Narodno pozoriše postiglo narednih godina sjajnim predstavama poput: „Za obojene devojke koje su razmatrale samoubistvo / Kad je duga dovoljna“, „Stih napeva", i - ovo je najizvanredniji primer kog mogu da se setim: divlji izliv besa Lerija Kramera o krizi zbog side: „Normalno srce". Jer kad je Džo izveo tu predstavu 1985. godine, više informacija o sidi je bilo u kritici Frenka Riča iz „Njujork Tajmsa“ nego što je „Njujork Tajms“ objavio o tome u prethodne četiri godine. Leri je zapravo menjao dijalog o sidi, pišući ovu dramu, a Džo producirajući je. Blagosloven sam sudelovanjem i radom na „Anđelima u Americi“ Tonija Kušnera, a radeći na toj predstavi, kao i na „Normalnom srcu", mogli smo da vidimo kako se kultura menja, a za to nije krivo bilo pozorište, ali pozorište je odradilo svoj deo da bi se izmenilo značenje toga kako je biti gej u SAD-u. I ja sam beskrajno ponosan na to.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
When I took over Joe's old job at the Public in 2005, I realized one of the problems we had was a victim of our own success, which is: Shakespeare in the Park had been founded as a program for access, and it was now the hardest ticket to get in New York City. People slept out for two nights to get those tickets. What was that doing? That was eliminating 98 percent of the population from even considering going to it. So we refounded the mobile unit and took Shakespeare to prisons, to homeless shelters, to community centers in all five boroughs and even in New Jersey and Westchester County. And that program proved something to us that we knew intuitively: people's need for theater is as powerful as their desire for food or for drink. It's been an extraordinary success, and we've continued it.
Kada sam 2005. godine preuzeo Džoov stari posao u Narodnom, shvatio sam da je jedan od naših problema to što smo žrtva sopstvenog uspeha, a to je: „Šekspir u parku“ je osnovan kao pristupni program, a trenutno se radi o jednoj od karata koje je najteže nabaviti u Njujorku. Ljudi spavaju napolju po dve noći da bi pribavili te karte. Šta se postizalo time? To je eliminisalo 98 procenata populacije od samog razmatranja da prisustvuju. Pa smo nanovo osnovali pokretne jedinice i nosili smo „Šekspira“ u zatvore, u prihvatilišta za beskućnike, u mesne zajednice u svih pet delova Njujorka, pa čak i u Nju Džerzi i okrug Vestčester. A program nam je dokazao nešto što smo intuitivno znali: potreba ljudi za pozorištem je jednako moćna kao i žudnja za hranom ili pićem. Program je postigao neverovatan uspeh i nastavili smo ga.
And then there was yet another barrier that we realized we weren't crossing, which is a barrier of participation. And the idea, we said, is: How can we turn theater from being a commodity, an object, back into what it really is -- a set of relationships among people? And under the guidance of the amazing Lear deBessonet, we started the Public Works program, which now every summer produces these immense Shakespearean musical pageants, where Tony Award-winning actors and musicians are side by side with nannies and domestic workers and military veterans and recently incarcerated prisoners, amateurs and professionals, performing together on the same stage. And it's not just a great social program, it's the best art that we do. And the thesis of it is that artistry is not something that is the possession of a few. Artistry is inherent in being a human being. Some of us just get to spend a lot more of our lives practicing it. And then occasionally --
A zatim je tu bila još jedna prepreka za koju smo shvatili da je ne savlađujemo, a radi se o prepreci učestvovanja. A zamisao, rekli smo, glasi: kako da pretvorimo pozorište iz robe, predmeta, nazad u ono što ono jeste - skup odnosa među ljudima? I pod vođstvom sjajnog Lira Debesonea, započeli smo program Narodnog dela, koji sada svakog leta producira te beskrajne šekspirovske muzičke svečanosti, gde glumci i muzičari, dobitnici nagrade Toni, stoje rame uz rame sa dadiljama i kućnim pomoćnicima i vojnim veteranima, a od skora i sa zatvorenicima; amateri i profesionalci nastupaju zajedno na istoj sceni. I nije to tek sjajan socijalni program; radi se o najboljoj umetnosti koju izvodimo. A njena teza je da umetnost nije nešto što poseduje nekolicina. Umetnost je urođena nama kao ljudskim bićima. Samo što neki od nas uspeju da je upražnjavaju mnogo više u životu. A onda povremeno -
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
you get a miracle like "Hamilton," Lin-Manuel's extraordinary retelling of the foundational story of this country through the eyes of the only Founding Father who was a bastard immigrant orphan from the West Indies. And what Lin was doing is exactly what Shakespeare was doing. He was taking the voice of the people, the language of the people, elevating it into verse, and by doing so, ennobling the language and ennobling the people who spoke the language. And by casting that show entirely with a cast of black and brown people, what Lin was saying to us, he was reviving in us our greatest aspirations for the United States, our better angels of America, our sense of what this country could be, the inclusion that was at the heart of the American Dream. And it unleashed a wave of patriotism in me and in our audience, the appetite for which is proving to be insatiable.
dobijete čudo poput „Hamiltona“, Lin Manuelovu izvanrednu novu verziju priče o osnivanju ove države kroz oči jedinog oca osnivača koji je bio imigrantsko kopile i siroče iz Zapadnih Indija. A Lin je radio baš ono što i Šekspir. Uzimao je glasove naroda, jezik naroda, uzvisivao ga je do stiha, a radeći to oplemenjivao je jezik i oplemenjivao je ljude koji su govorili taj jezik. A dodeljujući uloge u predstavi u potpunosti crnim i smeđim ljudima, Lin nam je saopštavao, oživljavao je u nama naše najveće težnje za Sjedinjene Države, naše bolje anđele Amerike, naš doživljaj toga šta bi ova država mogla da bude, o inkluziji koja je bila u srcu američkog sna. I oslobodila je talas patriotizma u meni i u našoj publici, a ispostavilo se da je apetit za tim neutaživ.
But there was another side to that, and it's where I want to end, and it's the last story I want to talk about. Some of you may have heard that Vice President-elect Pence came to see "Hamilton" in New York. And when he came in, some of my fellow New Yorkers booed him. And beautifully, he said, "That's what freedom sounds like."
No, to je imalo i drugu stranu i time želim da završim, i to je poslednja priča o kojoj želim da govorim. Neki od vas su možda čuli da je potpredsednik Pens došao da gleda „Hamiltona“ u Njujorku, a kada je došao, neki od mojih sugrađana Njujorčana su ga izviždali. I on je prelepo rekao: „Tako zvuči sloboda.“
And at the end of the show, we read what I feel was a very respectful statement from the stage, and Vice President-elect Pence listened to it, but it sparked a certain amount of outrage, a tweetstorm, and also an internet boycott of "Hamilton" from outraged people who had felt we had treated him with disrespect. I looked at that boycott and I said, we're getting something wrong here. All of these people who have signed this boycott petition, they were never going to see "Hamilton" anyway. It was never going to come to a city near them. If it could come, they couldn't afford a ticket, and if they could afford a ticket, they didn't have the connections to get that ticket. They weren't boycotting us; we had boycotted them. And if you look at the red and blue electoral map of the United States, and if I were to tell you, "Oh, the blue is what designates all of the major nonprofit cultural institutions," I'd be telling you the truth. You'd believe me. We in the culture have done exactly what the economy, what the educational system, what technology has done, which is turn our back on a large part of the country.
A na kraju predstave, čitali smo nešto što smatram veoma uviđajnom izjavom sa scene i potpredsednik Pens je to saslušao, ali to je pokrenulo određenu količinu besa, oluju na Tviteru, kao i bojkot „Hamiltona“ na internetu od strane zgroženih ljudi koji su osećali da smo se prema Pensu poneli sa nepoštovanjem. Razmotrio sam bojkot i rekao: „U nečemu grešimo ovde.“ Svi ovi ljudi koji su potpisali peticiju za bojkot ionako nikad ne bi ni videli „Hamiltona“. Nikad ne bi stigao u grad u njihovoj blizini. Ako bi stigao, oni ne bi mogli da priušte ulaznicu, a ako bi mogli da priušte ulaznicu, nisu imali vezu da pribave tu ulaznicu. Nisu bojkotovali nas; mi smo bojkotovali njih. A ako pogledate crvenu i plavu izbornu mapu Sjedinjenih Država, i ako bih vam rekao: „Oh, plavom su označene sve veće neprofitne institucije kulture“, govorio bih vam istinu. Verovali biste mi. Mi iz kulture smo uradili tačno ono što je ekonomija, što je obrazovni sistem, što je tehnologija učinila, a to je da smo okrenuli leđa velikom delu države.
So this idea of inclusion, it has to keep going. Next fall, we are sending out on tour a production of Lynn Nottage's brilliant, Pulitzer Prize-winning play "Sweat." Years of research in Redding, Pennsylvania led her to write this play about the deindustrialization of Pennsylvania: what happened when steel left, the rage that was unleashed, the tensions that were unleashed, the racism that was unleashed by the loss of jobs. We're taking that play and we're touring it to rural counties in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin. We're partnering with community organizations there to try and make sure not only that we reach the people that we're trying to reach, but that we find ways to listen to them back and say, "The culture is here for you, too." Because --
Stoga moramo da nastavimo sa idejom inkluzije. Sledeće jeseni, šaljemo na turneju produkciju briljantne predstave Lin Notaž, koja je dobila Pulicera: „Znoj“. Godine istraživanja u Redingu u Pensilvaniji su je navele da napiše dramu o deindustrijalizaciji Pensilvanije, šta se desilo kad je otišao čelik, bes koji je oslobođen, tenzije koje su oslobođene, rasizam koji je oslobođen zbog gubitka poslova. Uzećemo tu predstavu i s njom idemo na turneju u ruralne okruge u Pensilvaniji, Ohaju, Mičigenu, Minesoti i Viskonsinu. Udružujemo se sa mesnim organizacijama tamo kako bismo se postarali ne samo da ćemo dopreti do ljudi do kojih pokušavamo da dopremo, već i da ćemo otkriti načine da ih saslušamo i kažemo: „Kultura je tu i za vas.“ Jer -
(Applause)
(Aplauz)
we in the culture industry, we in the theater, have no right to say that we don't know what our job is. It's in the DNA of our art form. Our job "... is to hold up, as 'twere, a mirror to nature; to show scorn her image, to show virtue her appearance, and the very age its form and pressure." Our job is to try to hold up a vision to America that shows not only who all of us are individually, but that welds us back into the commonality that we need to be, the sense of unity, the sense of whole, the sense of who we are as a country. That's what the theater is supposed to do, and that's what we need to try to do as well as we can.
mi iz industrije kulture, mi iz pozorišta, nemamo pravo da kažemo da ne znamo šta je naša dužnost. Ona je u DNK našeg umetničkog oblika. Naša dužnost je „da držimo nešto nalik ogledalu prirodi; da pokažemo preziru njegov lik, da pokažemo vrlini njenu pojavnost, a samom našem dobu njegov oblik i pritiske.“ Naša dužnost je da Americi pokažemo viziju koja pokazuje ne samo to ko smo svi mi pojedinačno, već onu koja nas zakiva nazad u zajedništvo gde treba da budemo, u osećaj jedinstva, osećaj punoće, osećaj toga ko smo mi kao država. To je ono što bi pozorište trebalo da radi i to moramo da pokušamo da radimo što bolje možemo.
Thank you very much.
Mnogo vam hvala.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)