What I Learned on Stage

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/30/opinion/beppe-severgnini-what-i-learned-on-stage.html

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MILAN — I HAVE been a journalist for over 30 years, first as a foreign correspondent and then as a columnist. Along the way I have written 15 books, all nonfiction. Last year — don’t ask me why — I decided to write a play. I called it “La vita è un viaggio,” or “Life is a journey.”

It’s the story of an outwardly happy, self-assured professional in his 50s who is on his way to a conference in Boston. He gets held up at the Lisbon airport by an air traffic-controllers’ strike, and he’s not alone.

With him are two younger women. Elisabetta, who has come from Brussels, kills time by singing softly and accompanying herself on the guitar.

Marta has flown in from London on her way to Brazil to join a boyfriend she’s already bored with. Her back is up and she makes no secret of the fact. She hates having to grovel for poorly paid jobs and fend off flirtatious bosses. Enough is enough. Marta is tendering her resignation as a European. She’s a little bit scared and a little bit mad. The older man wants to help but he’s opinionated, sarcastic and just a tad patronizing. Marta loses her temper with him. As the night wears on, the mood shifts. It turns out that young Marta can help him more than he can help her.

I didn’t know I could write a play. More surprising, I had no idea I could act in one. Because that’s what I do. I’m the lonely, hairsplitting traveler, forcing advice about life and carry-on luggage onto Marta.

We spent months rehearsing and then we hit the road. We made 32 stops in Italy and Brussels, selling out theaters everywhere. My audiences seemed to love it. And they taught me a lot — much of which I can incorporate into my journalism, but some of which made me recognize the limits of what we writers can do with words on a page.

First, I learned that whether onstage or in print, it’s about dialogue, not monologue.

A feature article, a column or a news bulletin are all constructed as one-way systems. There is one person writing or speaking while the others read or listen. Onstage, every line is a cue for the next one. Actors depend on one another and on the audience. Acting is a conversation, not a speech. My experience made me realize that good newspapers should be the same — anticipating and responding to readers’ interests and needs.

Second, that it’s all a story.

Narrative is important. That’s what keeps readers hooked. Current affairs can be the most amazing page-turner imaginable, full of weird plot twists and oddball characters. Journalists sometimes overlook this. We tend to make everything straightforward, even when it’s not.

Onstage, I realized that the audience wants to know how it’s going to end. Will I convince Marta to forget her hunky boyfriend in Brazil, stay in Europe and keep trying? And what will I do after talking the night out with her? Will I stick to my plans and fly to my conference in Boston?

Third, being precise is fun.

Onstage, a single word or a tiny gesture makes a big difference. Silence is golden. You can actually hear the audience holding its breath when you pause (which doesn’t happen when you type “…” on your keyboard, unfortunately).

Words are equally important when you’re writing, of course. But theater allows you to speak them softly or firmly, according to the mood on the night. Words don’t change. Actors and audiences do. We Italians tend to gesticulate too much. Onstage, I learned not to waste a good stab of the forefinger.

Me (sarcastic): “How exciting to spend the night with an optimistic blonde.”

Marta: “I’m not blond. I’m not optimistic. And we’re not spending the night together.”

Me (pointing): “You’re legally blond. Like it or not, we’re stuck here with each other until dawn. And I bet I can make you more optimistic. Or at least less pessimistic.”

Fourth, the audience will tell you.

Journalists love current affairs; so do most of our readers. It’s been fun to pepper my play with references to the news. Audience response is immediate. You don’t get that in newspapers, magazines or radio. Even live television doesn’t give you such immediacy. There, the reaction comes as a number, a tweet or a comment, not spontaneous laughter and applause (or their absence).

And finally, I learned that onstage, live, there are no second takes.

I didn’t know that acting was like parachuting. Once you’re out there, you can’t go back. All you can do is concentrate on landing safely. You can’t climb back into the plane and you can’t stop a play once the curtain goes up. A speaker at a conference can make a joke and restart a sentence but not an actor. That’s what makes it all so exciting when you’re up there.

Is journalism the same? Yes and no. Once it’s in print, it’s out there for all to read. But also, readers aren’t like audiences, gathered for just one show. A journalist’s career is like one long play, with (usually) a chance to get right the next day what you messed up today. Just knowing that made me respect acting all the more, and be glad that I have my columns to fall back on.

Will I be making any more jumps? Obviously. We have 20 more dates in Italy in 2016 and then on to London. Marta, Elisabetta: Are you packed and ready?