I shall be writing today of being shit schmeared.
Yes, that’s right. Shit smeared. A schmear of shit rubbed in your face.
Last week, a critic in Germany was attacked with a dog schmear by a choreographer who I suppose felt angry that she didn’t like his busta moves.
The pair had a tense discussion, in which he recalled saying, “What you are writing about me, you would not want to hear about you?” When she did not respond positively, he rubbed the feces in her face.
Here’s the truth.. I need a Wet Wipe from the shit rubbed in my face by this New York Times article that gives a pass, and a voice, and credence to a lunatic who should just…
Shut the fuck up and not be given a poo platform.
“I’m still not free of this anger,” Mr. Goecke said. Ms. Hüster had written just two positive pieces about his work during his career, he said, and he felt many of her reviews were attempts to damage him.
“If I’d been a woman and the critic a man, this would be seen differently,” he said.
Not surprisingly, his career is gonna be just fine.
But Mr. Goecke’s career is far from over. In a telephone interview, Ms. Berman said the Hanover State Ballet would continue to perform his work; on Feb. 24, his piece “Hello Earth” will be part of a triple bill. Mr. Goecke’s works are “incomparable,” Ms. Berman said, and his art should be viewed separately from the unjustifiable incident.
Get out your poop bags peeps… it’s schmearin’ time!
The line of civility and plain old decency.. let alone criminality …is so blurry in this idyllic time of diversity and inclusion and equity.. but at the same time it’s focused and exposed the fragility and hubris and crazy of the entertainment industry.
A scant year ago, we were all shit schmeared by an entitled lunatic who went up on stage during the Academy Awards, after screaming profanities, assaulted a comedian, calmly strutted back to his seat, and moments later won the Best Actor Award.
He then got a standing ovation.
That is fucked up. Of course, no one called the police or stopped the show or did much of anything..
Because celebrity.
The fundamental human outrage of seeing that assault live across the world was numbed by the sheen of celebrity and identity politics.
Identity politics in show biz is married to money, and exposure. It’s not as much about representation as it is about getting a job or boosting your reputation as much as possible. It’s about keeping your money or making more.
And it’s about feelings. Because they are just more important.
And wielding baggies full of shit.
But it’s who’s on the other end of the schmear that interests me.
Pretty much every criticism..not only on social media but increasingly in the mainstream press is now met with responses rooted in identity.
If you thought Rihanna’s halftime skit at the Super Bowl was boring or not very entertaining you are either a pregnantphobe or a racist…the sosh is full of appropriated outrage.
Because she can’t be boring… and you mustn’t have any critical opinion in the Shangri-La of show biz.
Recently a show opened on Broadway ..”K-pop”. It closed quickly, and it seems the transfer from a smaller, more immersive space just didn’t work in a bigger, more conventional Broadway theater.
The open letters from the producers were then aimed at the crosshairs of the New York Times.
Yes, friends.. the critic is a racist. The thing that sorta shocked me about the controversy.. not at all the levels of racism… was the casting director, who I’ve known for years, publicized the letter.
I came across a fascinating article in the Village Voice a few months ago that was written by a dance critic .. of all things.. which detailed the parameters she was now under if she wanted to review a dance company in New York..
https://www.villagevoice.com/2021/10/29/mourning-my-profession/
But nothing prepared me for the ire I felt at an email that arrived, twice, from a venerable producing organization in New York City, whose shows I’ve covered often over the past 25 years. The organization, whose name I respectfully withhold, issued a “transparent press policy” designed, it appears, to protect performers from critics. It asks writers to “acknowledge race bias as part of their review,” along with ability/disability status. It instructs them to “treat the art and artists with respect in their language and descriptions, treating their own words as opinion, and not fact; avoiding body-shaming, mis-gendering, and assumptions about cultural, ethnic, or racial backgrounds.” It points out that in a performance with many parts, “all works should be acknowledged … not mentioning an artist and their work is erasure.”
Time to save the shit bags.
Not to be outdone, recently a Tony Award winning actress shot her open letter at the Times after her show got a negative review with accusations of racism. My fave part in her quest for equality was disparaging Helen Keller.
We gays also have our poo bags. Last year, a “gay rom-com” hit the mainstream and was a big fat flop.
The writer and star addressed the failure of his film with this on Twitter:
“Everyone who ISN’T a homophobic weirdo should go see BROS tonight! You will have a blast! And it *is* special and uniquely powerful to see this particular story on a big screen, esp for queer folks who don’t get this opportunity often.”
I have had my own experiences with the schmear… via open letter, via email, via the sosh..
But the schmear that still haunts me happened at a very fancy black tie fundraiser for a now defunct gay rights organization.
I had an idea to turn a beautiful documentary into a musical. It took ten years of work and dedication and lots of moolah. It was an insane climb against all odds but my little musical made it to the Public Theater.
“Southern Comfort” is a love story that happens to center around trans people.. who I knew.. especially in 2007 … had very little to no voice in mainstream musicals.
I have to say nothing prepared me for the open letter stuff, but being screamed at while eating dinner at a schmancy fundraiser was next level.
While hundreds of people.. gay, trans and allies …were enjoying their giant prawns, a group of 3 trans women came up to my table and started screaming at me. Like loud enough for 300 people to hear.
I was attacked for being gay, for being white, for being a man born with a penis, for being rich(ha!), for being a Republican(ha!) and I’ve blocked out the rest.
I was honestly devastated. And terrified.
They wouldn’t stop… I had to get up and try to calm them down while they continued to shove their palms in my face.
They hadn’t seen the show because it hadn’t opened yet.. and refused to let me speak.
They just wanted to schmear.
So yes. I’ve been on the other end of that… and my reasons for creating the musical, my inspiration, my art really went under lock and key after that.
I have shelved projects that I’ve worked on, and ideas I’ve had due to identity politics… I will probably never create another show.
I’ve always been drawn to stories of the underdog, and now that seems to be me in many ways so I’m gonna just fucking tell my own stories… like this one.
I ask myself what I’ve gained from that whole shebangle … I’m still sorting through that. A couple of days ago I did get my financial reward from the show:
It’ll only take about 500 years to break even, but whatevs.
A person who does have more than $2.03 to defend herself from I would say a shit ton of shit is J.K. Rowling. This is a fascinating article, and I’ll be listening in to the podcast starting next week, where she’ll speak freely without a baggie at the ready.
As fate would have it, it’s being produced by Fred Phelps daughter.. who I’m certain was holding a sign with her dad that said “New York Fags Die of AIDS” in the 90’s when I was in Topeka touring with “Cats”.
Maybe there is redemption after all.
The discourse that’s rooted in identity is ruining theater certainly.. it’s also ruined lives. It’s permeated mainstream criticism too. It’s also ruining Actors Equity, and sent throngs of once liberal people into the arms of the Republican Party.
The saddest thing is it’s stopping art in it’s tracks.
It is completely selective outrage.. and it’s all about money. Cuz if it wasn’t, I would think there would not be a musical on Broadway celebrating a pedophile.
So, I’m here with a wet wipe if you ever need it.
Robert DuSold 
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