This quarter, Coya Paz taught her Creative Facilitation class, centering around facilitation and gathering as part of a larger artistic practice. But what does this really mean? It starts with fundamentals of prison abolition and harm reduction, but calls us to think more intentionally about the way we start conversations with others that turn into action. Most importantly, it calls us to think about our intentions when we act in gathering.
That is a huge, looming issue we face as artists: We need to radically rethink how and why we gather in our artistic spaces in order to account for the humanity of everyone involved. When we do not gather in a space mindfully, boundaries are crossed, intentions are not met, and people do not feel respected and heard. In the book The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why it Matters, gathering facilitator Priya Parker warns of what happens when we fall into familiar traps: "When we don't examine the deeper assumptions behind why we gather, we end up skipping too quickly to replicating old, staid formats of gathering."
"When we don't examine the deeper assumptions behind why we gather, we end up skipping too quickly to replicating old, staid formats of gathering."
It is clear by now that our old ways of gathering do not work. These hierarchical systems are rooted in a system we have long overgrown. But how do we move forward, how do we plant intention into our artistic gatherings when we barely have enough bandwidth to show up in the first place? We go back to the basics.
We set community agreements. Not just creating the agreements in 15 minutes and calling it a day, but actually following through and reevaluating the boundaries set. If you have seen “don’t yuck my yum” or the “ouch oops” policy one too many times on a community agreements list with no actual use in the space, maybe it is time to find something else.
We check in, and we encourage others to check in too. Check-ins are vibe checks, they are moments to establish what feelings, stories, and emotions everyone is bringing into a space. One person’s great day is another person’s terrible day, and those energies affect the dynamics in gathering.
We give ourselves permission to pivot. Maybe something was on the agenda for this gathering and did not get done. Maybe the cast is tired and the best option is to end early. By purposefully going off course for the sake of the group, we can take care of ourselves and become stronger artists.
We remind ourselves why we are meeting in the first place. Priya Parker says this: “Ask why you’re doing it. Every time you get to another, deeper reason, ask why again. Keep asking why until you have hit a belief or value.” Are we gathering to fulfill a course credit, or are we gathering to hone our craft? Are we gathering to make change? Are we gathering to inspire audiences? Getting clear on why artistic gathering is necessary to begin with can be a reminder of what needs to be done to achieve our goals.
After all, we are artists! We specialize in creative problem-solving, in joining together within the limits of our resources to form something revolutionary (or even just something cool). In practice, intentional gathering looks like messy but consistent communication. Like people showing up late but still participating. Like inviting challenging feelings, but not relying on them. Like everyone having the chance to speak, like no one person taking over the conversation. Like addressing conflict kindly, with respect for each other’s humanity. Like getting off track to find new creative routes. Like messing up, then having the courage to apologize and carve a way forward. Like understanding when the best thing to do would be to disperse, to not gather. Like being honest about what is realistically possible within the confines of time, energy, money, and resources. Like allotting space for people to sit on the ideas discussed, to think through their own ideas. Like running with a tinge of curiosity, knowing it might break open the entire project. Like asking questions, lots of questions. Like getting clear about the end goal, but not getting set in the details of how it happens.
Community extends beyond the rehearsal room, and the care we extend towards one another is the care we extend to our audiences. Theatrical performance as an event achieves a rare moment of civic collectiveness, the power of which has been studied and theorized ad infinitum. The affective properties of theatre are predicated on gathering, on the sharing of a space and an experience. What do we want our audiences to feel in the spaces we create? How can we conceptualize a better world on our stages if we are not actively working toward building a better environment off stage?
"How can we conceptualize a better world on our stages if we are not actively working toward building a better environment off stage?"
Our artistic spaces are not the only places where we come to gather. Gathering intentionally has been on our minds since coming back to an in-person Theatre School, but this version of it actually came up as an important conversation going into the holiday season. Many of us are scattering across the U.S. and other parts of the world during intercession– leaving our usual communal spaces for another. Over the coming month we may find ourselves around tables with families and friends; however, these gatherings don’t always bring the warm and fuzzy feelings they promise. Knowing how to leave a gathering when it stops serving us is maybe something we will have to learn along the way as well. This is why it's so important to make the spaces we occupy in our artistic practices places where people actually want to gather. Maybe, maybe, if we gather more intentionally in all spaces, there may be more fulfillment, more joy, more splendor on the horizon.
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