Here's another old post from early 2005 that was mostly written but not posted because I hadn't quite finished it. So I've tied it up and posted it now since I think the original thought was interesting.
Our instructor from the Copyright and Rhetoric class has been performing in a production of The Tempest in Boston. Last night my classmates and professor went to watch it. (The Boston Globe had some nice articles about him and the production, which I would link to, if only the Globe made their archives available.)
On the way home my professor was asking me what my thoughts were about going to see a play. Not so much on the play itself, but the act of going to see one. I said there was a moment in the beginning when I wondered how it was that I found myself sitting there at a play. I don't normally go to plays. When I think, "What should I do today?" it doesn't usually result in the resolution to go see a play. I have seen others before, but it usually took something particular to induce me, like making an event out of it. This is why I was there last night, how I ended up seeing a Moliere production, how I saw an off-Broadway production of The Crucible, etc. There was some other excuse drawing me there, other than the simple appeal of just watching a play.
I mused that unless one grows up having a specific interest and or particularly easy access to the theater, going to see plays does not seem an intuitive option in our cultural portfolio to pursue. It's not that we would refuse to go see one, but it wouldn't be a default decision when we decide to seek entertainment. We're more likely to go to movies or rock concerts. Classical arts tend to be lost in the periphery of our consciousness and we forget to enjoy them.
I don't mean this as an indictment against more modern arts, but it seems unfortunate that the classical ones get so marginalized. Culture and democracy managed to thrive in the days before television and rock music, but I wonder how well they can survive if that's all there is.