As I’ve gotten older and started to better understand my tastes and who I am, it’s become very easy to feel unmovable in my opinions–so much so that I’ve allowed myself to make snap judgments about pieces. It’s refreshing when something comes along that forces me to challenge my own bias and taste. A friend and I caught the National tour of The Band’s Visit. I had listened to the album before the Tony’s and fell in love. I recognized its merit instantly and was very excited when it swept over the more commercial and flashy musicals. Since then, I’ve listened to those more flashy musicals so much more than The Band’s Visit. I felt like a bit of a hypocrite. When I scored the tickets to the tour, I warned my friend that though the musical was allegedly very “good,” it would probably be very slow and unable to hold our attention because we’d had a long day. How could I know all of this without having seen the musical? If I thought it was so good, then why did I feel the need to warn him before we saw it? Thankfully, I didn’t let my preconceived notions about the “good” musical stop me from seeing it. The show challenged me as a theatre maker, an audience member, and a person.
Let’s start with theatre because no one really wants to start anything by recounting they’ve changed as a person. After graduating with my BFA in Musical Theatre (whoop whoop!), I thought that I had a really solid grasp on my style as an artist and the kinds of art that I want to make…and if you know me, you know I like to have strong opinions. By the end of my senior year, I had pretty much done away with realism. I thought it was an ineffective storytelling method when creating pieces that were meant to incite change. I preferred a much more expressionist or surrealist approach when tackling representation and serious issues: the more outlandish the better as long as it was grounded in truth. The Band’s Visit showed me that it didn’t have to be so black and white. With that musical, the name of the game was simple. The plot was simple: a band of musicians from Egypt accidentally wind up in a small town on their trip to Israel. The characters were simple: the store owner whose heart is closed to love, the wise older man who shows her a happier way to live, the nerdy guy who’s uncomfortable around girls, the smooth talker that helps him gain more confidence, and other characters that fit certain tropes like these. The storytelling techniques were simple: an artful movement style and soft, subtle changes of light; specific but nothing flashy. After watching the musical in full, I learned some things about this style. Simple does not necessarily mean boring. Simple CAN be powerful. There’s something really special about human themes being told simply. In my seat, I watched very real people learn about longing and connection. There were no brutal murders or crazy plot twists. There didn’t need to be any. The story hit me just the same, probably even harder. It inspired me to get to work. While I’m not going to abandon my avant-garde styles, I’ve gained a newfound admiration for simplicity.
I warned my friend that the show might not be able to keep our attention. Why would I say that without having seen it? Was it because I knew that the story was very realistic? Or because I knew the score pretty well, so I knew that there weren’t going to be any big numbers to shake us up? Recently, I’ve noticed that it’s becoming increasingly harder for me to focus. I notice that when I read or when I write or when I draw, it’s become like second nature to become distracted. My tickets to The Band’s Visit forced me to ask myself a pretty serious question as someone who claims to love musicals. Could I stay focused and involved without sparkly costumes and production numbers? Thankfully, the answer was yes. I found myself enthralled in the narrative. I was swept away by the majesty of the score. I surprised myself. Even with the switching of languages, I caught everything. The simplicity of the story allowed me space to really focus on the words and each microexpression of the performers. I found myself understanding so much more than I have with other musicals. Because I was paying such close attention, I learned a lot about myself.
Now for the deep stuff. Watching The Band’s Visit forced me to come face to face with my own privilege and bias as an American. Part of my apprehensions about the show stemmed from my fear that I probably wouldn’t be able to connect to it. I’m so accustomed to Western narratives and Western storytelling norms like quick moving and snappy dialogue. My bias toward quick moving dialogue and fast scene changes led to me wanting to categorize the story as “slow.” ‘Slow” is a relative term. Just because I’m from the Northeast where if it takes you longer than .2 seconds to say what you want, you get left in the dust doesn’t mean that every theatre piece has to move as quickly in order to be valid. Once I set aside this bias, I was able to see the show for how important it is. The Band’s Visit is one of the answers to all of the things that black theatre-makers are demanding. It just isn’t about black people. It’s for Isreali and Egyptian people. The Band’s Visit, as a theatre piece, accomplishes a number of things where many other musicals that attempt to illustrate the story of a minority fall flat:
Unapologetically Egyptian/Israeli in the costuming, the dialogue, the design elements, the setting
Not told through a lens of whiteness
Not trauma centered
Being Egyptian/Israeli is an integral part of the characters but not the only part
I almost missed out on how important this musical is because I was afraid that it would be slow or that it wouldn’t really resonate with me. I almost let my preconceived notions get the better of me, and I will not let that happen again. This musical showed me the benefits of getting out of my box and experiencing “Something Different.” heh. Get it? It’s because that’s a song in the show. Ahh I’m funny. It’s pretty good; you should download the album.
A piece like The Band’s Visit is incredibly important because it highlights the similarities between our cultures and celebrates their differences. By crafting relatable characters that fill certain recognizable character tropes, the musical shows the similarities. By placing the musical in a land that is foreign to American audiences–having the characters speak in different languages and tell anecdotes about growing up in villages–the creators show off the culture’s differences. I learned a lot in my seat at the Academy of Music. I learned a lot about a culture that is different than mine. I learned a lot about how all people need the same things regardless of their cultural background. I learned that all types of theatre can be important and effective. I learned that I am still young, there is a lot for me to learn, and I’m excited to learn it.
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