2011 Playwright Contest Winner
Dancing, Not Dead by John Freedman (Russia)
Dancing, Not Dead is a play about the boundaries of truth, and the tragic cost to those who seek to own it.
Ellen and her mother return from Alexander’s funeral. Ellen is broken, wondering why her father has killed himself. Her mother is buoyant, recollecting memories of her favorite ballerina. Petty banter reveals a deep conflict between the two, as well as with the world they inhabit In this family, no one backs down - "being strong" is one’s only chance for survival. But when does strength cross the line from constructive to destructive?
Dancing, Not Dead is a play about the boundaries of truth, and the tragic cost to those who seek to own it.
Ellen and her mother return from Alexander’s funeral. Ellen is broken, wondering why her father has killed himself. Her mother is buoyant, recollecting memories of her favorite ballerina. Petty banter reveals a deep conflict between the two, as well as with the world they inhabit In this family, no one backs down - "being strong" is one’s only chance for survival. But when does strength cross the line from constructive to destructive?
Writer John Freedman is a theatrical pioneer who has sought to deepen understanding with those of other cultures, and to explore those territories where understanding is virtually impossible. His particular interest lies in the “gray areas”, where consensus does not happen, and how as human beings, we respond to that. As a child growing up during the Cold War, and an American who has resided in Russia since before the collapse of the Soviet Union, John’s unique experiences have shaped his appreciation for the difficulties that nations and individuals have in overcoming habit, instinct, prejudice and tradition.
His play, Dancing, Not Dead is a direct response to what he’s seen occur in the world political arena in the last decade – the use of lies to further one’s agenda; the refusal of people and nations to pause and reflect; the belief that shouting louder, and hitting harder, is enough to make a wrong right; the conviction that appearances of youth and beauty are substantive; the danger that fascism will arise almost out of nothing.
Dancing, Not Dead is also a response to what he sees happening to individuals whose fate it is to live in such times – we have become self-defensive, abusive and manipulative; we worship before the god of youth; we are slaves to our dreams, rather than masters of them; we are lacking in trust and bereft of the talent to love or be loved. Might this be another explanation for fascism? Is fascism only a political phenomenon, or is it possible that it grows out of our most intimate, personal relationships?
Whether the answer to these questions is yes, no or maybe, the one constant that affects us all at every moment is the impulse and the need for love. What role do the human emotions of forgiveness, generosity of spirit and love play in the contemporary world we inhabit? Dancing, Not Dead does not answer the questions raised here, but poses them in a series of ways. No doubt, every question raised by this play, as well as every response it might prompt, will be seen in a different light, depending upon the culture in which it is approached, and that is why, whether through the genre of essay, criticism, translation or play script, John Freedman’s work truly exemplifies The Internationalists’ spirit.
