The first thing that strikes me about Robert Gross is his economy of motion. In one move he steadies the restaurant door against a fierce winter wind, clasps his hat to his head, and gestures me in to the warm sound of clanking silverware. He has a natural habit of lifting his shoulders toward his ears and pushing his body forward, as though he’s anxious to tell what he’s thinking and restless to get where he’s going. It’s only after we’re seated that I notice the intensity of his attention. With what seems to be very little effort, he responds to my questions with the kind of lyrical coherence one usually finds only in writing. Gross’ great passion, one he guards with equal amounts of protective cynicism and shielded idealism, is theatre.
Gross is the head of HWS’ theatre program. A professor in the English Department, he received his doctor of philosophy degree in comparative literature and theatre from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. Before joining HWS in 1987, he was assistant professor of theatre arts at Cornell University. Gross’ professional life revolves around the HWS schedule of classes, practices, and performances. Even when not working, he breathes theatre. His latest fascination is to attend the June 24 performance of Ingmar Bergman’s “Ghost Sonata” in New York City. “I’ll be living in a constant state of excitement until then!” On campus, Gross’ name is synonymous with theatre. This isn’t a new
phenomena; Hobart and William Smith Colleges has a tradition of entrusting
the theatre program to individuals with the Gross says that theatre is least robust when it feeds in on itself.
“It’s most exciting when it turns outward,” he explains. “Theatre students
here at HWS are math majors, in economics, art, biology, you name it.
These kids are often more thoughtful about what they’re doing. They
think. Past students took what they gained from theatre and entered
the fields of medicine, film pro- Gross says that students take everything they know, have felt, read, experienced, and dreamed and bring it to bear on the stage. “These kids gain self-confidence because they learn to think beyond themselves and their own world into another self and world,” he says. “It’s a movement into the other. They extend their limits and by entering into that other world reveal new and unknown elements of their own world. They must go outside and beyond themselves to see that.” That kind of transformative experience defines the power of the liberal arts education. The ability to empathize with others and see situations from multiple points of view results in HWS students who are known for their acumen, intelligience, and ability to make quick decisions. Casey Dilg ’01, currently cast in “Benefactors,” by Michael Frayn, says,“I respect Professor Gross and his opinion. He’s a pretty amazing guy. He has this incredible intellect. He pushes us all the time so that we eventually are comfortable enough to try some different things on stage. I’m normally kind of shy until you get to know me, so I like being able to work things out on the stage, to enact situations, and talk about what motivates a character. Gross is one of the few professors I’ve had where I’ve felt that I really learned something from him and gained something from knowing him.” Gross demands his students stretch by choosing plays that are complex
and sometimes obscure, both for the student actor and the audience.
“My choice of plays keeps some away and intrigues others,” says Gross
with an unapolgetic shrug. “If you’re willing to sign up for the adventure,
it can pay off in incredible outcomes. “Often when I choose a script,
I can see that students are thinking that this play is too far beyond
them. But as we work on the script, what was seen as So what constitutes a good play? Gross pauses to think. “A good play should be three thingsemotionally compelling, imaginatively stimulating, and intellectually challenging.” He repeats his response a second time to make sure it’s fully understood. “Look, when there are no boundaries between these three things, if you can make that happen, theatre becomes thrilling for everyone involved.” Gross goes on to explain that his students aren’t just looking at the play as an actor. “They look at it as a scholar. There are certain insights we’re trying to get out. We’re using the theatre as intense, imaginative exploration.” Jill Ashton ’00 agrees. “The thing about Robert was that he really
listened to what I was saying As much as theatre is active learning for the student, it’s also active learning for the audience. Shepard Sobel ’68 is artistic director of the Pearl Theatre in New York City, one of the few companies in the country with an entirely classical repertoire. “I think theatre is where you go to be human,” says Sobel. “A healthy society drinks its identity from the well at the center of town. Theatre gives you a sense of your history, your humanity. For example, when you watch Sophocles’ “The Antigone,” you’re left in that cave at the end of the play. Do you understand the magnitude of what Sophocles did to Antigone? You can apply Antigone’s experience to your world. You only died with her in effect. That’s applicable wisdom.” Applicable wisdom, active learning, intense imaginative exploration–but isn’t theatre supposed to be merely entertaining? Gross shakes his head. "We've become so acclimated as a culture to the concept that entertainment and intelligent discourse are two radically different things. I believe that the liberal arts education must destroy that myth. The very process of thought can be exciting, challenging, and sexy!" Gross is conscientious about bringing humanistic study and artistic experimentation together. He says, "I taught a course last fall called Dialogue, Dialectic, and Drama, where I introduced the students to all kinds of dialect, from Plato to Hegel to Derrida. Real tough stuff. We looked at all sorts of films and plays. For the final project, the students had to prepare a research paper on a topic and then write a play on that topic. To move from studying Hegel to a playwriting assignment and back again is a stimulating and productive exercise." Theatre, then, encapsulates and radiates the ideals of a liberal arts
education by imbuing the "I get to think about what makes up a person—the rhythm of their speech, their tics, their body movements, what they think about," says Dilg. "What do you gain from that? You learn about people, learn to watch them and study them." Gross says, "A broad education that includes theatre makes students more inclined to explore. They are always looking and paying attention. I tell my students that if you are ever stuck at an airport, you will always have something to do. Watch people! Learn from them. If you are intellectually engaged, there is no taking a day off. You are always working. And, we would presume, you love your work." Gross shrugs and leans back in his chair, "I suppose it's a utopian village, a state of mind to which one might aspire. You don't need to go through life being sluggish. You can be strongly and sharply attentive. There is no such thing as getting tired of thought. It's a hell of a lot of fun." Often when a play is over, Gross gets various reactions. "Some people say, `Well, I didn't like how unresolved the play was.' Others, often students, will say `I thought it was great how you left the end open so we could figure it out for ourselves.'" It's that creative and intellectual engagement Gross pursues.
|
|