If you ask a cross-section of people to name the greatest artistic creations throughout history you can be rest assured that the plays of William Shakespeare will feature predominantly. Now let’s put aside any question of whether this is deserved and consider something quite separate from merit: if Shakespeare’s plays are so revered and so well known, why have so few of us seen them live on stage?

I have fond memories of going to the theatre and performing on stage. It’s almost a cliché to describe the theatre as magic yet there is something ephemeral to its success. If literature is supposed to illuminate the underlying objectivity in the subjective experiences of humanity, the stage goes one further and forces an interpretation foreign to our own emotion. The written word is able to transmit different ideas, consequences and patterns of behaviour; it provides us with an infinite inner world. The magic of the theatre is in its attempt to share with us the infinity of other people’s worlds.

It attempts to share. I purposefully tempered myself on that point. The trouble with trying to convey an infinite world is that it’s difficult enough successfully doing so when you are the sole interpreter, let alone using someone else’s interpretation as a vehicle. The stage can equally destroy a work as well as it can add to it. Othello poorly acted is inferior to reading it yourself. Othello expertly produced provides you with the other world you cannot perceive in solitude.

This is the dilemma that the theatre faces. It can only fulfil its possibilities when blessed with the requisite standards. But in order to thrive and reach a wider audience it stretches itself and frequently falls short. We are constantly encouraged to support local theatres or risk losing them but they often lack the quality to merit doing so. Being persuaded to and then coming away with a negative opinion is more detrimental than not going in the first place. This instantly reminds me of a classic Peep Show quote. “I've got Heat on DVD at home. We're watching this, when for less money, we could be watching Robert De Niro AND Al Pacino”.

Then there is the sadly pompous reaction to this sentiment i.e. that it’s becoming of a philistine. In my opinion, those who look down on those who would rather sample Hollywood than the next travelling troupe to hit their home town are also part of the problem. Quit making theatre elitist. Quit allowing low-end productions to survive by making them out to be something they’re not. Quit putting a premium price on counterfeit goods. Quit trying to prescribe value to maintain an undeserved reputation. Quit protecting your little social clubs on the pretence of communal worth.

To balance my vitriol with something a little more constructive, I would say that the medium of theatre is definitely a worthy cause and for it to thrive requires a larger percentage of participation versus consumption. Only by more of us playing an active role in the theatre can the pool of talent become deep enough to satisfy a growth in audiences. This suggestion may sound absurdly cyclical. To fund higher participation you need higher audiences. But this nicely leads to the root of the problem: why do we demand the lower end of the market to be so polished and professional?

Take football for example. Grass roots football consists of people spending their own disposable incomes in order to partake in the lowest levels of the pyramid. They take so much pleasure out of being a part of the game that they are willing to pay to do so. Why should it not be the same for the theatre? A suggestion that I once made to a local arts committee was to couple grass roots art groups with like-minded businesses so that one could benefit from the use of premises, advertising and exposure and the other from community engagement, goodwill and footfall. Local authorities themselves also have the power to enable and celebrate local artistic endeavour. All in all, the only risk in this approach is seeking and maintaining a willing population of artists. In today’s consumerist society this may be seen as a tough ask.

How many of us actually delve deep enough into honest introspection and self-criticism in order to open the door to creativity? On one hand, we are endlessly encouraged to be automatons, being told how to feel and act to serve the purpose of market demographics and general mass manipulation. On the other hand, we egg each other on to be liberal and self-expressive. The end result is a large number of noisy robots expending lots of energy and little insight.

Until more of us take an interest in positively contributing to the world of drama we should be grateful for the talent that we can so readily enjoy on screen and at major theatres and be sceptical of that so readily drummed up on our doorstep.

Personally, I always found acting fulfilling and rewarding in comparison to the spectacle of the theatre being so hit and miss. Acting not only allows for escape, exhilaration and camaraderie but also demands the introspection and self-criticism aforementioned. It conjures a paradox of pride and humility. The same can be said for any type of performance art. It’s the stage, however, that can strip one bare, where you have nothing to hide behind.

Lastly, in risk of contradicting my point entirely, I highly recommend reading plays as a gateway to participating in or witnessing staged drama. Intimacy with the craft will enhance your appreciation when you come to enter the theatre and also make you more discerning and perceptive. It also has the benefit of providing writers with a valuable perspective on characterisation and dialogue that may not be realised from reading literature alone.

My favourite Shakespeare play is Coriolanus. I implore you to read it and then watch the 2011 film adaptation starring Ralph Fiennes and Gerard Butler. I promise that doing so will leave you in search for more drama.

This month's favourites:
   Noname, Room 25
   Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being
   Heat (1995)