In response to a recent article in The Guardian which argued that most plays involving science come off as pretty lame, Lauren Gunderson, on The Huffington Post yesterday, made an artful argument to the contrary:
[Science] adds reality to our stories, and adds story back into our reality. Science is built for the stage. The very act of scientific discovery is one of the most dramatic in the human experience. Dramatic because it changes everything, and it can be made of nothing but silence. An epic thought still fits on a stage and in a human being. That can be giant drama.
Gunderson goes on to present a list of plays that is— dare I say it?—scientific in its evidentiary scope and completeness. In the category of “wild theatrical rides” she kindly places Louis Slotin Sonata.
Given that the play will be getting a brand new production in Chicago at A Red Orchid Theatre this September, I am especially grateful for the favorable mention. (Apparently no slouches, Red Orchid will be moving its last production Off-Broadway.)
Gunderson is right: science and art are kissing cousins. Time was when no one even bothered to make a distinction between the disciplines. I would not go that far now, but I would welcome my colleagues in the theatre to look more deeply into the world of science for their inspiration. Stories like the race to decode the human genome will be told and retold for generations to come. For modern playwrights they are the kind of source material that Caesar’s fall and the War of the Roses were for Shakespeare. Theatres that cannot or will not strive and risk to tell these stories that are impacting people’s lives right now will not survive as anything other than museums.