Hageman’s Laramie town hall was divisive spectacle, not ‘political theatre’

A heavily invested crowd packed to capacity Laramie’s Gryphon Theatre earlier this month for U.S. Rep. Harriet Hageman’s Albany County Town Hall — some cheering, some heckling and others simply wishing to engage in an informed civil dialogue. 

I sat at the back of the balcony in this performance venue that I know intimately, having produced over 40 theatre productions on the stage where Hageman stood. The waves of charged emotion felt suffocating. The next day, I watched video footage of the event from a different vantage point, lamenting the animalistic expressions of the crowd, until my sight alit on a familiar face: There, while Hageman called for the audience to lower their signs out of respect as a crowd booed in the background and a standing woman wolf whistled in support before her, my mother sat calmly at attention with a warm gaze on her face as she directed her focus to the stage.

This skill of active listening, of respectfully holding space for ideas that you may or may not agree with, has been cultivated through attending the theatre. Yet, what my mother observed was no ordinary performance.

In an exchange with NBC News, Hageman’s advisor Tim Murtaugh labeled the crowd’s engagement as “a spectacle of manufactured political theatre.” I disagree  on multiple counts. The show of displeasure emanating from the raucous house was genuine — these were the concerned expressions that Laramie townsfolk felt deeply within their being. To deny these individuals of their authentic worldview is, in a word, inhumane. It robs us, as citizens, of our visibility. Murtaugh, however, was correct in identifying the spectacle nature of this town hall, but it was a far cry from engaging in the act of theatregoing.

Western theatre is inherently political. Spectacle is simply diversion.

Branching from roots in ancient Greece, theatrical performances arose from the polis, the city-state, and responded to significant political issues of the time. Athenian democracy prized this arena of social commentary to such a degree that a wealthy citizen could perform his civic duty by funding and producing the city’s annual play festival, with actors being paid by the state. From here, the public observed dramatized versions of the great issues of the time and used the theatre as a catalyst for civic dialogue about how to proceed.

However, as time evolved and cultural significance shifted from ancient Greece to ancient Rome, performance morphed as well. The political drama hosting amphitheater was supplanted by the Roman Colosseum, replete with its gladiatorial fights, circus games and wild animals that were conditioned and baited to maul criminals and enemies of the state. The government used these circus spectacles as a means of distracting the public from the economic and political challenges of the time, training its citizens to seek blood over discourse.

Well, you know what they say about history repeating itself. And here we are, societally valuing spectacle over theatre. Despite expressing a desire for “respectful dialogue,” Hageman did little to uphold that request when interacting with constituents during the Q&A portion of the town hall, egging the crowd on in their emotional jeers, sacrificing herself as the gladiators did. For personal glory. For public distraction. 

Let us learn from the mistakes of our past. Let us return to the democratic art form of theatre.

Theatre comes from the Greek word “theatron,” which roughly translates to “the seeing place.” It’s where people go to see the truth about the world, about the society in which they live. As patrons of the theatre, we learn to sit in quiet contemplation amongst our neighbors, actively listening to nuanced dialogue. We may not agree with the perspectives presented on stage, but we take in the veritable experiences of our fellow human beings, and as a result, we gain greater empathy for their humanity.

Following the performance, we collectively take that joint experience with us outside the four walls of the theatre and into the lived interactions of our daily lives. We have conversations with our neighbors — a shared discourse informed and inspired by the lessons learned from theatrical storytelling. The theatre draws our citizenry closer together in the face of gaping socio-political division.

You may not identify as a “theatre person,” but I urge you to reconsider. Find a local production happening in your area, whether at a collegiate institution, in the public school system, or put on by any of the 36+ theatre-producing organizations that exist in almost every county of our state. Attend their programming and learn to sit in respectful silence with an array of thoughts with which you may or may not align. Allow the experience to change you, to strengthen your capacity for empathy, to connect you with your local community. This will develop your eye for theatre versus spectacle. Your city, your state, and, yes, even you will benefit from this endeavor.