STAGE : COMMENTARY : Davidson Needs to Resharpen His Edge

Right around the time that Ntozake Shange’s “for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf” was to open at the Mark Taper Forum in 1977, the late Joseph Papp, a co-producer of the show, was asked if he and Taper Artistic Director Gordon Davidson might team up in a bicoastal exchange program. Papp replied curtly: “I don’t do cancer plays.”

At the time--the crest of the Taper’s heyday, when every production seemed to bring joyous discoveries--this retort seemed needlessly blunt, New Yorkish and even a little invidious. Davidson had been riding the theatrical waves with uncommon skill in the decade since the Taper had opened with him at the helm. And he had shown a lot more generosity of spirit toward Papp than Papp was reserving for him.

Perhaps Papp was only venting a bit of pique that the Pulitzer and the Tony the previous year had gone to Michael Cristofer’s “The Shadow Box,” a drama about cancer victims produced at the Taper, staged by Davidson (who also won a Tony) and transplanted to Broadway--the first such Taper sapling to take root in New York.

Yet, in retrospect, Papp’s reply is easier to understand, if still harsh. He and Davidson were both New Yorkers but temperamentally dissimilar, their tastes and their cutting edges entirely different.

Papp was simply referring to the socially directed, rehabilitative theater that seemed to have an exclusive hold on Davidson.

Looking at the record during Davidson’s 25-year tenure at the Taper, it is the activism of the first 15 that best suited his personality. Radical theater to Davidson meant theater of social protest. The mood of the late ‘60s and ‘70s--with its anti-war, pro-civil rights ferment--was liberal and self-aware, something he and the artists with whom he associated could unequivocally embrace.

What was popular in the world dovetailed nicely with what Davidson and the Taper stood for. Such plays as “The Trial of the Catonsville Nine” (1970), “Savages” (1974), “Sizwe Banzi Is Dead” (1975) and “The Island” (1975) or “for colored girls” were intoxicating and, although the phrase had not yet been invented, politically correct. Even the lighter-weight entrants such as “Godspell” (1971) or “Dont Bother Me I Cant Cope” (1972) were rousing extensions of social affirmation.

These were not the only plays the Taper did well, but that kind of imaginative, sociologically loaded piece came to be casually identified as “a Taper play.” It was a time of revolution, and anything that little drum of a theater on the hill could do to give it meaning or add to the understanding between people was exhilarating and new. This satisfied audiences and brought Davidson his highest approval rating, epitomized perhaps by the hugely popular “Zoot Suit” in 1978.

But with the 1980s the mood of the world and the city changed. And the work at the Taper adapted--a dangerous verb. It seemed to lose if not its nerve, at least its edge, and by the end of the ‘80s, even its touch. For budgetary reasons, it cut back on some of its most valuable spinoffs, crucially its experimental New Theatre For Now (created by former Taper associate Edward Parone) and its exploratory work at Taper, Too, which skipped a few seasons.

Theater in Los Angeles, which had been virtually nonexistent when the Taper had arrived on the scene, was also changing and growing and picked up some of the slack and more of the spotlight. In 1984, the superb Olympic Arts Festival came and went, leaving us altered forever. And, in 1985, the Los Angeles Theatre Center boldly entered the downtown arena. In the brazen half-dozen years that LATC lasted, its fearless, sometimes silly, sometimes stunning work served as a stimulus--and stood as a silent rebuke--to a Taper that had grown dispassionate and disappointingly tame.

After the nadir of the Taper’s 1988-89 season (“Dutch Landscape,” “Sansei,” “Temptation”), in which theatricality was nearly extinguished by a surfeit of P.C., things began to pick up. The 1989-90 season had “50/60 Vision,” a stimulating repertory festival of landmark plays from the ‘50s and ‘60s; 1990-91 had Adrian Hall’s “Hope of the Heart,” Terrence McNally’s “The Lisbon Traviata” and George C. Wolfe’s “Jelly’s Last Jam”--the first Taper show since “Children of a Lesser God” to receive Tony nominations. And the current season brought us Robert Schenkkan’s Pulitzer Prize-winning “The Kentucky Cycle,” even if it was co-produced with Seattle’s Intiman Theatre and therefore not strictly speaking a Taper show.

Now LATC’s gone, money is scarce and a stormy new decade is upon us. Nonprofit theaters across the country are staring into the abyss as a recession and a reactionary mood in Washington combine to undercut the arts. In troubled, post-riot Los Angeles, will Davidson continue to ride what he himself has called “the cutting edge of mainstream,” or can he find the will to form dedicated alliances with younger artists to forge a new and bolder cutting edge?

In the theater, failure and achievement are often less than a hair apart. The question is not what can be measurable as success (let alone bankable), but the far less tangible issue of how well the art, the artist and the community are served. As far as the Taper is concerned, pluses and minuses cloud the crystal ball.

On the plus side we see a Taper more aware of the need for emphasis on artistry first, politics second. On the minus side: its frequent inability to distinguish between the two. Example: its current, politically simplistic production of “Richard II.”

On the plus side is the presence in the 1992-93 season of Tony Kushner’s two-part “Angels in America,” the first of which played Taper, Too in 1990 and was recently acclaimed at London’s Royal National Theatre. Like “The Kentucky Cycle,” “Angels” is a fascinating mega-work on the American malaise, partly developed in the Taper’s New Work Festival.

On the minus side: the suspension of Taper, Too programming for 1992 (cutbacks again) and the postponement till January of the New Work Festival because Associate Artistic Director Robert Egan, who runs it, is on sabbatical. These developmental programs, along with the Taper’s Literary Cabaret at the Itchey Foot Ristorante, have been a breeding ground for the Taper’s best work. Their loss, even temporarily, is critical.

On the potentially plus side is the Taper’s proposal to do a 14-week season of new plays in two of the former Los Angeles Theatre Center spaces. On the minus side, the money for such a project remains to be raised. If it is, the Spring Street complex could be the new home for Taper, Too programs.

So with several theaters already under his command, a possible stake in LATC, a recession still upon us, and the downtown competition out of business, the big question looms: Will we see anything more innovative emerge from the Taper? Will Davidson make the room and have the heart to take real chances?

A recent 25th anniversary party at the Peninsula Hotel was long on talk and self-congratulation. There is a lot to be thankful for, but in acknowledging the past it’s important to remember that a theater is only as good as its present. No one wants to take away from Davidson’s or the Taper’s real and substantial achievements, but theater isn’t about staying power. It’s about change and challenge. Not enough of either has been seen with any consistency at the Taper in recent years. It may be time for Davidson to consolidate his leadership position but delegate more generously to others day-to-day matters of artistic pursuit.

The staying power is a tribute to Davidson’s undisputed skills as an administrator who has juggled county bureaucracy, a complex board of directors and complex programming with grace, expertise and a healthy egotism. In the end, however, they are secondary issues. Artistic risk, vigor and excitement are still keys to the future. They are simply what needs to happen.