Creativity, said the inimitable Flannery O’Connor, is simply a matter of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.
She must have secretly hated us.
Because sitting for extended periods, as it happens, is among the most tormenting and tyrannical things we ever ask the human body to do.
“Sitting, in and of itself, puts a strain on the lower back,” said Richard Ezgur, a Chicago chiropractor. “Sitting for several hours at a time can be more strenuous than going for a run.”
There you have it: Attending a play, musical, concert, lecture, sporting event or a performance of “Brigadoon” at your kid’s high school — not to mention sprawling on that broken-down old sofa with the Mountain Dew stains (or so you hope) in the basement rec room to watch a “Sex and the City” marathon — is now officially hazardous to your health.
It’s a peculiar issue for both purveyors of performance events and those who attend those events. It’s a sticky wicket for both the brave folks at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater who have combined “Henry IV” Parts I and II into what they’re calling “a single marathon event” through June 18, and the many Chicagoans who will flock to those performances.
While health professionals may speak blandly of spine and alignment and all of that, we know what they’re really talking about: They’re talking about the rear end.
And while that bit of wisdom may elicit snickers, chuckles and eyebrow-waggling more frequently seen in 8-year-olds than in lofty-minded observers of the Chicago arts scene, there is a decidedly serious aspect to the subject. The risks of physical injury from sitting too long are quite real.
“In prolonged sitting, you don’t have that muscle activity that helps return blood to the heart,” said Dr. Christopher Skelly, a vascular surgeon who works at the University of Chicago Hospitals, adding that consequent risks include blood clots and other circulatory problems.
Time for a break now. Let’s stand up, stretch and do a quick reality check:
Are artistic productions — plays, movies, poetry readings — actually getting longer?
Probably not. If anything, plays are shrinking. A heated debate erupted in London theater circles last year over the so-called “90-minute play,” which some welcome as a cut-to-the-chase convenience, but others decry as a short-sighted sop to distracted audiences. In centuries past, to be sure, people thought nothing of sitting through multi-hour dramas, operas and symphonies.
Plays may not be expanding, but something else is: the human body. Sixty-five percent of Americans are officially overweight, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recently reported, and those folks in the federal bureaucracy don’t cut you any slack for lying about your weight on your driver’s license.
In sum: We’re too fat, we don’t get enough exercise and when we go to the theater, often we do the exact opposite of what we ought to do just before we plant our rumps in Row 14, Seat 7, at Steppenwolf or Goodman or the United Center: We wedge ourselves into that slinky black number and swill a few glasses of merlot–tight clothing and alcohol both force the body’s circulatory system to work harder.
“Have you seen Ford’s Theater in Washington, D.C.?” was the question posed by B.J. Jones, artistic director of Northlight Theater in Skokie. “Those people [in the mid-19th Century] were little.” Indeed, as the CDC would confirm, during the 20th and 21st Centuries we’ve gotten too big for our britches. Literally.
Jones said that when his 350-seat theater undergoes its next renovation, he will probably increase the seat width from its present 18 inches to 21 or 22. (A few of the current seats are 21 inches, to accommodate audience members with special needs.) Jones, that is to say, is thinking of making seats wider — not making shows shorter.
He was quick to add, however, that when it comes to seat size and comfort, this town has it easy. “In Chicago, our butts are kissed theatrically. In New York theaters, you sit with your knees up against your chest. Some of those theaters were built when people were not enhanced with triple Big Macs and double fries.”
(They make a triple Big Mac? Be right back …)
Jones acknowledged the existence of a simple rule of thumb — or other body part, which will be identified shortly — about theatergoing: The best theater critic in the world may be your own backside.
“When people complain about the seats, it’s not about the seats. It’s about the play,” he declared. “I wanted to sit through `Munich’ no matter how long it was. `Crash’ could have gone on forever for me. But I wanted to rip my teeth out while watching Part II of `Lord of the Rings.'”
Michael Halberstam, founder and artistic director of Writers Theatre in Glencoe, concurred. “If you find yourself connected to a particular piece of art, it doesn’t matter. If it has failed to engage you, then really nothing’s going to save your poor aching bottom.”
Like Jones, Halberstam believes that the rump can double as your inner theater critic: “When I start to become disengaged at a performance, my upper back immediately kicks in and starts aching. I start fidgeting. My legs start getting cramps.”
Halberstam did add a complicating wrinkle: Sometimes, perversely, he wants his audiences to be a little bit uncomfortable.
“No actor or producer will tell you that it’s a good idea to keep a theater too warm. You come in, it’s been a long day, the theater is dark and warm, you sit in a comfortable seat, somebody tells you a story — it’s primal. You’re doomed.” The sounds of snores rippling across the auditorium can drown out the most obstreperous monologue on the stage, he implied.
Cris Henderson, executive director of the Chicago Shakespeare Theater, revealed that he and director Barbara Gaines think a lot about an audience member’s derriere.
“It has to be a priority, and it’s more complex when it’s two Shakespearean history plays performed back-to-back,” he said. “We think a lot about running times, about where the intervals are going to fall.” They spent many hours, for instance, discussing how long the dinner break between the two parts should be: an hour or an hour and 15 minutes? “It’s a sweeping story, taken in all at one time, and we don’t want to parse it out.
“I sit in a lot of theaters and am always aware of the audience around me,” he continued. “The audience collectively will tell you where they are — the arching of backs, the stretching, the sighing. You’ll have ebbs and flows of comfort and attention and engagement.
“If the work is not of the highest quality,” he added, “the discomfort sets in immediately.”
Ezgur, who said patients at his Progressive Chiropractic clinic can report sore backs after evenings at the theater, noted that — Big Macs notwithstanding — it’s not totally our fault.
“If you look at the history of humankind from an evolutionary perspective, the amount of time we’ve been sitting in chairs is less than one-tenth of a percent of our existence,” he said. “The body hasn’t really adapted itself to a sedentary lifestyle. We’re meant to be hunting, gathering, walking about.”
But lest he be seen as anti-theater, Ezgur quickly added, “It’s not like one play is going to cause damage. It’s the cumulative effect.”
Time to stretch, season ticket holders. You have nothing to lose but your lumbago.
– – –
SAVE YOUR SEAT — Sitting down for a hearty helping of “Henry IV”?
Here’s what to do to keep the blood flowing.
– Don’t cross your legs.
– Don’t wear constricting clothes.
– Reject alcohol and coffee; both can constrict blood vessels.
– Don’t hunch.
– Avoid sitting in the same position for longer than 20 minutes.
– If you can’t stand up and stretch–which admittedly is tough to do in the middle of Act II, Scene 4–you can move to the edge of your seat and arch your back.
– Pump your legs up and down.
– Wear compression stockings. Seriously. “Compression stockings are very helpful,” says Dr. Christopher Skelly, vascular surgeon. “I always wear them on days when I’m operating. They’re available over the counter.”
Sources Dr. Christopher Skelly, vascular surgeon: RichardEzgur, chiroprator
———-
jikeller@tribune.com
