O!, lo, St. Stephen

by STEFFEN SILVIS
ssilvis@wweek.com

I In the fifth year of my travail, I looked upon a great asbestos fire-curtain and beheld it rent in twain with seven torn scrims of gossamer behind representing seven Portland theaters.

II Beyond this tear of veils, I beheld four and twenty seats: and upon the seats I saw an audience collapsed in boredom.

III Presently, a noise like that of thundersheets left from an amateur Lear shook the audience into uprightedness, and
a lamb-like creature crawled into a baby-spot center.

IV Then did it cry the house commandments in a quavering voice: Thou shalt not use thy cell phones nor suffer them to ring. Thou shalt not fumble neither shalt thou crinkle sweet-wrappers in thy neighbor's ear nor in thy neighbor's wife's ear. Thou shalt honor our sponsors' products
and keep them wholly.

V But the plea for extra tithing didst sink the audience back
into torpor.

VI Now, a figure in paste jewels stood before the first scrim and spake: Behold, I am Portland Center Stage.

VII And the audience leant forward, as the voice was not customed to the stage's vastness and didst strain against a lukewarm sound design.

VIII Then came another figure dressed in worsted and tennis-shoes saying, Behold, I am ART.

VIV And the audience turned away, for it had seen this figure and the figure's figures too often after the spirit had departed from them.

X Through the third scrim came
a figure in a tunic of tablecloth and synthetic hose crying, Behold, I am Tygres Heart.

XI Though the audience was well-disposed toward this figure, the voice stung their ears with faulty cadences and diction; yet they marked that the figure held books and was not past caring.

XII And it came to pass that the fourth scrim shook as a two-headed figure in plastic and motley came forth: Behold, I am Imago.

XIII And the audience didst smile and waited for wisdom.

XIV Yet, though the figure delivered great and abiding moments of theatricality to the multitude, it did too often look upon itself and upon its navel thereon, and wisdom waned.

XV Then came confusion upon the stage as two figures fought over the fifth and sixth scrims, the one in street raiment while
the other wore rentals.

XVI Behold, I come as Profile, while the other cried its name
as Stark Raving, and the audience beheld strife as the one
figure undermined the other.

XVII And the audience spoke as one voice: Thou art both small and in a hostile land. Would that ye both were the other's helpmeet, yea and that the power
of thy enmity might have been channeled into thy stage work.

XVIII Lo, the figures did depart alone.

XVIV At the last scrim came a
figure in cleanly linens holding fast Brook's The Empty Space, Bogart's On Directing, and Barker's The Possibilities saying: Behold, I am the truth, the light and the artist's way. I come bearing a sword against mediocrity, hobbyism and iniquitous self-satisfaction.

XX And the audience increased.