Casual notes on show-biz books, memoirs and studies, dust gatherers, and hot off the presses.

Book Review by Samuel L. Leiter . . . .

SITI Company: THIS IS NOT A HANDBOOK (n.p.: SITI Company, 2022). 209pp. [The book provides barely any publication details, including an ISBN number, but online sources give the publisher as Yonkers International Press.]

13th Edition.

The Saratoga International Theater Institute, founded by renowned American director Anne Bogart in 1992, and best known as the SITI Company, faded away in 2022 (two years after the pandemic brought its work to a halt), following 30 years of creative activity in experimental, often non-linear, imagistic, movement-oriented theater. 

Over that span it established close ties with the SCOT company founded by the great Japanese director Tadashi Suzuki, located in the rural Japanese town of Toga; gained acclaim at international festivals; had annual summer residencies in Saratoga Springs, NY, where it was affiliated with Skidmore College; created numerous unusual productions, a good number written by prolific American dramatist Charles (“Chuck”) L. Mee; spread the teaching of Bogart’s actor training methodology, “Viewpoints,” as well as Suzuki’s methods, often through guest residencies; and established a troupe based on nonhierarchical ensemble principles allowing for all creative members of the troupe to participate equally in crafting the work.

During those 30 years, SITI sometimes performed for limited runs in New York, at places like BAM. Unlike another major ensemble-based group, the Circle Repertory Theatre, described in this column’s last two book reviews, it was not a regular part of the New York theater scene. I was long familiar with Suzuki’s teachings and productions (I have a chapter on him in my book The Great Stage Directors), but, regrettably, paid only peripheral attention to Bogart and SITI. I was not a follower. What little interest SITI evoked in me stemmed from the presence of one of its foremost participants, the burly, red-haired, actor/translator Leon Inglesrud, whose background in Japanese language and culture intrigued me.

For much of SITI’s last 10 years, I was a Drama Desk voter, attending whatever shows were eligible for awards consideration. Unless I’m mistaken, only one awards-eligible SITI production, Chess Math No. 5, about avant-garde composer John Cage, came to New York during that period, in 2017. I was anxious to review it, but, as seen here, I was not overly enthused. Whatever else of SITI I’ve seen is restricted to the helpful but quite limited clips available on YouTube. 

A number of SITI works are referred to repeatedly through the essays in the company’s new book, among them The Medium, Small Lives/Big Dreams, Bobrauschenbergamerica, Room, and Radio Macbeth; enough detail about them emerges across the pages to provide a rough idea of what they and a few others were like in performance.

All of which is to provide context for my response, not to SITI itself, but to the book it published on the occasion of its sunset to celebrate not only the dedication, passion, and artistry represented by the company’s existence, but the mutual love and respect shared by the book’s contributors for both the institution itself and to its artistic and administrative constituents, many of them there from the very beginning. 

As its title intimates, SITI Company: THIS IS NOT A HANDBOOK is not a book you pick up if you’re looking for a carefully organized, academically comprehensive overview of the company, its history, its ideology, its people, and its achievements. It’s possible, if you read each of its 14 chapters (plus the editor’s Foreword), featuring essays by or interviews with SITI actors, designers, and administrators, to piece together enough strands to comprehend the outline, scope, and nature of what SITI achieved. Be advised, though, that the only reference point provided (there’s no index) is a bare-bones, front-of-the-book chronology of productions. 

If you’re a SITI devotee, participant, or fan, you’ll likely enjoy dipping into the recollections of these acolytes, most of whom provide insightful accounts of their experiences, including vivid descriptions of their creative struggles and accomplishments. Often, the writers are at pains to explain how they first discovered SITI, and how they ultimately became members of this exclusive alliance. 

If you don’t know anything about Bogart’s Viewpoints, you won’t learn much here. It can be irritating when terms like “composition” are bandied about by practitioners without explanation for the layman. Bogart has written several books about her work, but none are mentioned, even in passing. Like the allusions to Suzuki’s techniques, the references are primarily for those with some background in these methods. 

Everything about the book suggests it’s written by insiders for other insiders. People are usually mentioned casually by their first names and only by reading more and more of the text do you begin to recognize who’s being referred to; I once or twice was puzzled, though, as to which of the two Megans involved was intended. Megan E. Carter, an important administrator, edited this hodgepodge of a book, which must have been problematic, considering the looseness of its premise; the final product, however, could have been improved with the assistance of a professional copy editor. 

The occasional typos aside, this reader was especially gobsmacked (a word used in the book several times) by a couple of Japan-related howlers. One is the several misspellings of the given name of the famed Japanese actress, Kayako Shiraishi, the great star of SCOT, as Kyoko. Equally annoying are the multiple references, even by Bogart herself, to the world-famous Japanese theater runway as the hanamachi, instead of the hanamichi. I realize this will sound pedantic, but when artists on this level of theatrical sophistication, many having acted in Japan itself, mangle important terminology, you can forgive me (Google me to understand my frustration) for being gobsmacked. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if the above-mentioned, Japan-born, Leon Inglesrud, who once served as Suzuki’s interpreter and authored one of the book’s most memorable essays, felt similarly when he read the book. And I’d be curious to know his reaction to reading a chapter in which the writer, citing Inglesrud’s lecturing about Japanese theater, claims the “hanamachi” is used in noh theater, confusing the hashigakari bridgeway with kabuki’s hanamichi. 

In essence, this is a scrapbook of memories, including many images ranging from casual, even touristy, photos of SITI people at their leisure, and all sorts of ephemera, such as addressed envelopes, newspaper reviews, schedules, prop lists, script pages, tech notes, boarding passes, and other “you had to be there” stuff. 

While it would help to be one of those insiders who seem to be the book’s natural audience, there is still a good deal to learn from these essays and interviews. Among the most valuable is that of actress Kelly Maurer on her acting process and on the company’s collaborative method. Sound designer Darron L West talks fascinatingly on how creatively involved the SITI system allowed him to be in rehearsals. In another essay, actor Will Bond (whom everyone calls Bondo) reminds us, “As avant-garde or postmodern as we have been labeled, this is a conservatory-trained and traditional group of people who cut their teeth in the regional theater. . . .” 

Inglesrud, in his deeply personal comments, wrestles with his position in the company, striving to gain recognition for his acting ability over his value as a utility man, and revealing how his Japanese fluency played a crucial role in his success. Actress Akiko Aizawa writes of her Japanese background and of its use in her SITI work, while actress Ellen Lauren is eloquent about what, metaphorically, making an entrance is about. Administrator Michelle Preston shares her SITI journey, and the lessons she learned from its unique power structure, and choreographer-actor Barney O’Hanlon discusses his dance contributions. Among the rest is Bogart’s own piece providing information on SITI’s origins, with reference to Suzuki’s influence. 

I have no idea how extensive SITI’s reach is, but I suspect its name and reputation are considerable enough to attract a modest audience for this book. According to online reporting, SITI is digitally archiving its artistic legacy, which should be of great value for those interested in the company and its work. For those curious about the less technical, more human side of the company’ existence, SITI Company: THIS IS NOT A HANDBOOK should prove a handy companion.

Up next: Norman Mathews, The Wrong Side of the Room

Leiter Looks at Books welcomes inquiries from publishers and authors interested in having their theater/show business-related books reviewed.