Technology and the Regression of Communication

It is well documented that the advancement of technology has ushered in a society that is more connected than it ever has been, yet (somehow) continues to regress in its ability to communicate truthfully.

“Today” we are told “we have knowledge at our fingertips that we could only dream of in generations past.” It is true; in 2018 you are mere keystrokes away from the extended works of William Shakespeare, a live stream of Earth from the International Space Station, or an instructional YouTube video on how to best prepare salmon steaks. We can FaceTime, voice chat, text message, SnapChat (take your pick) with people on the other side of the planet with next to no effort.

Objectively, these tools provided through technological advancement should only further enable us to communicate with our fellow human beings. Bring us closer together, not isolate us. The barriers of distance, time and language (thank you Rosetta stone!) have been torn down by iPhones and touch-screens, and yet YouTube comments and Twitter are inundated with hateful, poorly-spelled, half-baked excuses for thoughtful discourse.

At what point do we stop blaming the tools and start holding ourselves accountable for our behavior? The reality is, barriers of language and trust are only brought down through vulnerability and honesty, behaviors that are not made easier through the newest gadget or social media. In fact, there is a very real case to be made that the interconnected modern society is actively detrimental to the idea of being truthful and vulnerable.

By connecting society through cell phones and computer screens, people are more exposed than ever. An errant tweet from years past is now grounds for firing, not to mention the vicious witch-hunt that comes, fully enabled through social media. “Burn in hell, sinner!” is so much easier to tweet than it is to verbalize; to speak to someone’s face.

Brian Friel so perfectly illustrates in his play Translations how difficult it is to truthfully communicate with one another. We are so eager to throw up walls (be they technological, cultural or linguistic) to avoid the effort and discomfort that comes with a real human connection. “Say anything at all; I love the sound of your speech” says English Lieutenant Yolland to the local Irish woman Maire Catach. She is speaking Latin (completely unintelligible to the Lieutenant); desperately trying to communicate with him despite this seemingly unassailable barrier. And yet this young, earnest pair connect in a very real way, speaking in the universal tongues of smiles, laughs and sighs. No computers, no Google Translate, no cell phones. Just two people and the warm, Irish air of a summer night in 1833. Intent is everything, and this highlights the exasperatingly simple solution to this age-old problem:

Make an effort.

Society, it seems, has come to the conclusion that technological advancement enables our problems to be solved for us. The average first-world citizen has been given a free pass to check-out; intellectually as well as socially. We, as a society must recognize that the advancement of technology must be accompanied by a commensurate advancement and evolution of our intellectual and civic responsibilities. The technological marvels at our disposal are not crutches. They’re ladders. Let’s start using them.

~Jimmy Stewart

tKAPOW's production of Brian Friel's Translations runs September 28 to October 6, 2018 .

Theatre as a Universal Language

Some of my favorite theatrical experiences as an audience member have been shows performed in languages other than English. As I've discussed in a previous blog, Teatr Zar, a Polish company that performed at Charlestown Working Theater a few years ago, put on one of the best pieces I've ever seen. I've been fortunate enough to see shows in Italian, French, Farsi, and ASL (which I'll grant included lots of English). In all of these cases, the power of the performances have had the ability to transcend the language barrier. It takes a special performer to bridge the gap of understanding, but when they are able to do so the results are profound. I suppose this is a reality with which opera fans are quite familiar.


As I write this, I'm on a plane back from Italy where I have spent the last 9 days in residence at LaMaMa Umbria International. I was last in Italy in 2013 for LaMaMa's Directors' Symposium. This time I was in Italy directing an original, one-woman piece entitled Bea and Me. The piece was written and performed by Marybeth Berry, a friend I met during the 2013 symposium. The show explores Marybeth's personal life story dealing with domestic abuse at the hands of her husband who died of cancer. As a means of unlocking this story, Marybeth wrote the piece as a conversation with Beatrice Herford an early 20th century monologist widely recognized as a pioneer of solo performance. The play deals with complex themes and features an equally complex format. We spent most of our time in Italy refining the script so as to improve flow, timing, and message. The piece was performed twice at Cantiere Oberdan, the host venue for the LaMaMa Spoleto Open.

About mid-week, one of the organizers of the LaMaMa program asked us how we were going to address the language issue for Italian audiences. Honestly we were so heavily involved in script edits and staging rehearsals that we hadn't really considered that at all. I reached out to an Italian friend of mine for help, but with time so short, the decision was made to just present the piece in English. We figured that if nothing else, the playwrights currently working at LaMaMa (a group of about 12) would come to the show and the language would not be a problem for them.

Friday night, the night of the first performance, came and we only had four people in the audiences, all Italians (some with very limited English). I gave my curtain speech and had the first in my lifetime experience of having to pause while it was translated for the audience. Marybeth pressed forward with her piece and the audience was absolutely enthralled. As a side note, I've never seen an actress embrace having an audience to play for as much as Marybeth did that night. Her story burst forth from her as if it just needed to be released. The performance reached its end, the lights dimmed, and our little Italian audience absolutely went nuts. They clapped and clapped and then clapped some more. It was clear that while they may not have understood all of the language (or Marybeth's crazy accent which is two parts South Carolina drawl with one part Rhode Island speed), but they were moved. They were moved because Marybeth was moved. The emotional tension in the room was evident and it needed no translation.

Here I am,somewhere over southern France and I find myself contemplating what lessons from this experience I can take with me to my work at home. tKAPOW has always been committed to producing the very best of dramatic literature and that commitment will not change any time soon. What I believe I will continue to explore as a director, however, is performance that is highly expressive and storytelling propelled by strong imagery. I will challenge my actors to consider those audiences members who may not be able to rely on understanding of the language alone. I hope that this approach will help us create productions capable of transcending language all together.

~ Matt Cahoon