Where Are We?

Deb Banks

Humans, in our current form, are surface dwellers. If we climb more than a mile and a half up into the Earth’s atmosphere, oxygen molecules become so few and far between, that a single breath provides inadequate fuel for our cells and they begin to starve and die. Diving into the Earth’s oceans is not much easier. While there are exceptions for highly trained divers, the standard human body is only capable of diving about 30 feet before potentially fatal changes in blood chemistry can occur.

Space, in its current form, is big. The farthest humans have ever ventured from our planet is 248,655 miles during the Apollo 13 mission. Out of the seven billion humans on the planet, only twenty seven people (all men) have ever seen the Earth in its entirety, a bright blue marble hovering against the endless expanse of the Universe. All told, there have been fewer than 600 humans who have ventured into outer space and none have left Earth’s orbit since 1972.

It would seem then, that since Henrietta Leavitt’s time and despite all our technological advances, humans have not really gone that far at all in the scheme of things. And yet, despite these physical limitations, we have the audacity to believe that our Universe is knowable. And we are insatiably curious creatures.

When I became a scientist, I was amazed to find that the most innovative ideas were happening behind the scenes in the labs. It is no small matter that in order for the Next Great Thing to be discovered, the apparatus often has to catch up with the ideas. Want to explore the composition of Earth’s mantle? Then you need to create equipment able to withstand the pressure and temperatures found in the Earth’s mantle. Want to accurately map the temperature variation in the Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation? Then you need to figure out how to get a telescope above the Earth’s atmosphere. All of this innovation requires meetings, papers, peer review and experiment after experiment after experiment. Arguably, the process of discovery is far more interesting than the discovery itself.

When I became a stage manager, I was equally amazed at the process of transforming words on a page into a fully formed production. But where science slowly build theories out of massive amounts of observations and data, theater takes theories, stereotypes and beliefs and reverse engineers them into individual experiences. Where a scientific theory seeks the least amount of variation in data as possible, theater depends on a deluge of unique and conflicting experiences that struggle to co-exist. From the first rehearsal onward, the process of theater is one of breaking down and of teasing apart so that we might better understand the human condition.

In Silent Sky, we have a thoughtful weaving together of these two seemingly disparate processes. On the one hand, we share the scientific process of Henri’s research and the tedious gathering of data to better understand variable stars. On the other hand, we witness Henri’s struggle as she is stifled by both the establishment’s reluctance to accept a woman’s scientific capabilities and also by her beloved sister’s vision of what it means to be a ‘proper’ woman.

So as Silent Sky brings us together to explore these processes of science and theater, where does that leave us? Interestingly enough, it leaves us pretty much right where we have always been. Just as we live on the border between Earth and sky, we will always stand at the junction of past and future. Because humans love a great story, there will always been the next great discovery to be made. Because it really bugs us that we do not know everything, we will always innovate in order to make that discovery. And ultimately, because we also seek to understand ourselves, there will always be the next great piece of art that is created to help us process the implications to ourselves, our societies and to the planet.

Deb Banks is a stage manager, science educator, gardener, player of board games and general creatrix of adventure and opportunity. She is a long-time resident of Western MA and shares her space with a human, cats and the perfect amount of books.

The Where Are We Project, in conjunction with Flat Earth Theatre’s production of Silent Sky, invites an assortment of scientists, artists, thinkers, and dreamers to ponder our place in the universe. Silent Sky will be performed March 10th – 25th, 2017, at the Mosesian Center for the Arts in Watertown, Massachusetts.

Robin Abrahams

Where are we in terms of understanding ourselves?

My life has been dedicated to the study of psychology and theater, sometimes together, sometimes separately.

As scientific themes and plots become more and more prominent in contemporary theater, the discipline of psychology tends to get left out. Psychoanalytic theorizing, perhaps with some fictionalized Freud shrinking some fictionalized contemporary; revelatory, cathartic therapy sessions; abusive "Snake Pit" asylums—these are popular onstage. But the practice of psychology as a science is not.

Why is this? Psychological studies lend themselves to dramatization beautifully—the most famous and influential experiments are, in a way, compact but highly elaborate staged productions. Stage designers don't have to scrounge up antique telescopes or electrical equipment. Playwrights don't have to figure out how to make technological exposition seem natural.

I wonder if we simply don't want to see those stories onstage.

If we'd rather not know where we are.

Because plays about science always have a degree of triumphalism to them. We, humans, bare forked things we are, are figuring out the universe. It is inherently a Promethean tale, a tale of increased knowledge, increased power. What we learn may upend certain hitherto-fixed truths: We are not the center of the universe. We were not created separately and specially from all other beasts. But these are only myths, and demolishing them doesn't diminish our stature—it allows us to create a new myth, a better one, in its place. A myth of enlightenment, and improvement, and progress.

And that myth is the one that much of psychology destroys.

Empirical studies in the social sciences show that we are conformists. That we pay almost no attention to our surroundings.  That our memories are unreliable and vulnerable to manipulation. That we are more prejudiced than we realize. That the least competent among us believe themselves to be the most gifted. That we lie to ourselves.

These discoveries do not quicken the heart. This is not gazing at a star or uncovering the bone of an ancestor in Africa.

The discoveries of psychology are, frankly, somewhat embarrassing to us as a species.

As a child (I was not always a very clever child) I was fascinated by public maps with a large red dot marked YOU ARE HERE.  They made me feel caught out and vaguely guilty. How did they know? Was it not somehow shameful that the makers of this map know where I am, when I myself do not know where I am?

I suspect this unpleasant feeling may be why there are so few plays about the science of psychology.

Robin Abrahams is an American author, journalist, and speaker. She writes the Boston Globe Magazine weekly ethics and etiquette column "Miss Conduct,” and has appeared in a number of local theatrical productions, including Flat Earth Theatre’s Blinders. Robin is a research associate at Harvard Business School, has a PhD in psychology from Boston University, and can usually be found lurking at the Ig Nobel Prizes.

The Where Are We Project, in conjunction with Flat Earth Theatre’s production of Silent Sky, invites an assortment of scientists, artists, thinkers, and dreamers to ponder our place in the universe. Silent Sky will be performed March 10th – 25th, 2017, at the Mosesian Center for the Arts in Watertown, Massachusetts.

Today’s “Where Are We?” piece is by local artist Christine A. Banna. Created for the Boston Convention & Exhibition Center’s Art on the Marquee series, “One Step Forward, Two Steps Back” is shown here in its online video documentation form – but can be best viewed in its natural habitat, the 80-foot screens of the BCEC. Stop by to see it in South Boston on Wednesday evenings through mid-March.

Banna provided the following statement to accompany the work:

When I was first drafting a proposal for this animation, I was considering two diametrically opposed aspects of humanity, our scientific progress and how we can simultaneously regress on a societal level.  I decided to focus on the technological achievements of humanity by using imagery of a space shuttle launch.  I have chosen this specific metaphor for scientific progress because I believe it is symbolic of our species’ greatest strengths.  We are the only mammal to migrate and thrive in every unique environment on planet Earth.  I feel that it is absolutely remarkable that we then looked up and chose to travel to an environment completely inhospitable to us - space.  In addition to this imagery, I added a clip of Belka and Strelka, two Soviet space dogs who were launched into low Earth orbit for a day and were the first Earth-born creatures to go into space and return safely, thus paving the way for increasingly complicated manned missions.  

I was also trying to be cognizant of the nature of this unique display.  I planned this animation to have the aesthetic of a moving ink drawing to purposely give a sense of tradition and physicality in juxtaposition to the mechanical engineering required for launching such complicated machinery into space.  Marrying the organic with the manufactured.   Additionally, I felt the appearance of a traditional medium on such a modern site as the marquee would further highlight our technological progress while staying cognizant of our humanity.

Addendum January 28, 2017:

In consideration of the current events and political climate, I have had a hard time re-reading my initial statement for "One Step Forward Two Steps Back".  When I was initially conceiving this animation I was certainly influenced by the dangerous rhetoric that was commonplace during the presidential election (my proposal was submitted in October).  Now seeing the reality of the suppression of scientific information and the dangerous precedents that are being made I am humbled that my animation was playing in public during it all, but deeply saddened at its timeliness.

Christine A. Banna is a multidisciplinary artist who pulls from both modern and traditional methods such as painting, drawing, video, sound and animation and utilizes them in her practice.  Born in Providence, RI, Banna grew up with a deep love of ancient history and science which has been a driving force for her since she was a young girl.  This dichotomy between ancient and modern is reflected in both Banna’s subject matter and medium choices in her work. She currently lives and works out of Medford, MA. 

The Where Are We Project, in conjunction with Flat Earth Theatre’s production of Silent Sky, invites an assortment of scientists, artists, thinkers, and dreamers to ponder our place in the universe. Silent Sky will be performed March 10th – 25th, 2017, at the Mosesian Center for the Arts in Watertown, Massachusetts.

Dori A. Robinson

In the very first moment of the play, Henrietta stands outside on a cold night and looks up at the stars and our gaze follows her. Looking to the sky and questioning what is beyond is a natural curiosity in all people. We wish on stars. We dream of traveling to the moon. We look beyond ourselves at the big wide world (or beyond) for meaning. In many ways, we look up in order to look within, wondering what’s next for us, what’s possible. What will I be remembered for? How will my life be measured? Or, in her words, "where are we?" If you had asked me months ago “where are we?” I would have given a different response. I would have spoken primarily about Henrietta, and the choices she was faced with – romance and family versus science and exploration. I might have written with a more philosophical tone, wondering about our own individual potentials and contributions – our lives, our legacies. Indeed, this story is partially about trying to discover and fight for one’s place in the world. Henri struggles with conceptualizing Earth’s location in the universe. The question unnerves her; just knowing her place on a map is insufficient. With a passion to find answers, she looks up to the sky. Even more, Henri fights for her right to conduct this exploration as a true astronomer, since she is not allowed to look through the Great Refractor telescope with her own eyes. To question is one thing; to demand the right to question is another. 
 Another answer I might have given would be regarding the women of the play. Henrietta Leavitt’s luminosity-period relation of Cepheids now enables us to measure the distance between stars; Annie Cannon developed stellar classification; Williamina Fleming discovered the Horsehead Nebula. Despite all their progress, however, these women worked in a separate room (as “computers”), received lower pay, and needed a male colleague to support their ideas. Though set in the early 1900’s, this play resonates deeply today, as even the most qualified female may not be able to break the glass ceiling. Then there's Margaret, Henrietta's sister in the play (and fictional in real life). While Henrietta looks at galaxies far away, Margaret examines what is right in front of her at home. Like a telescope adjusting, our perspective shifts from Henri to Margaret, from the macro to the micro. In Silent Sky we are constantly asking: which has the most value? Which is most urgent? These aren't questions which can be easily answered: today alone our State Senator was silenced on the floor, the Dakota Access Pipeline is moving forward, and a baby was delayed surgery because she is from Iran. So where are we today? We are standing on the edge of what our country has been, and what it is becoming. We are watching over-qualified women be demonized and silenced. We are watching fear and ignorance grow. We are grasping onto facts as hard as possible, citing historic events, struggling to speak to our leadership. We are standing where we have always stood, and yet everything looks different. We are standing in solidarity, marching in Washington DC and on Boston Common. We are on our phones calling, at our desks writing, at the computer reading. We are angry, frustrated, and scared - and we are persisting. It's through this persistence that we are finding bits of light in some dark times. Henri's colleague and friend, Annie, reminds us that there are constants in the universe, one of which is light. Indeed, Henrietta found her answers through light, specifically by noticing a pulsing pattern in the stars (perhaps this is why Annie states: “I choose to measure you in light"). Every call, every rally, every letter is another form of light. My hope is that Silent Sky – from the performance itself to the conversations it may inspire – can be another form of much-needed light.

Dori A. Robinson is the director of Flat Earth Theatre’s March 2017 production of Silent Sky. She is an educator, director, dramaturg, and playwright, and is the Director of Education at Stoneham Theatre.

The Where Are We Project, in conjunction with Flat Earth Theatre’s production of Silent Sky, invites an assortment of scientists, artists, thinkers, and dreamers to ponder our place in the universe. Silent Sky will be performed March 10th – 25th, 2017, at the Mosesian Center for the Arts in Watertown, Massachusetts.

In the run-up to Flat Earth Theatre’s March 2017 production of Silent Sky by Lauren Gunderson, we are inviting a varied group of scientists, artists, philosophers, thinkers, and dreamers to respond to the central question of the play – “Who are we, why are we – WHERE ARE WE?” in whatever form and context they choose. That may mean “Where are we – in the universe?” “Where are we – in the trajectory of human history?” or any other “where are we?” that comes to mind as they consider the century and more since Henrietta Leavitt came to work at Harvard in the 1890s, and the way the “big questions” in our minds have and have not changed in all that time. 

We’ll be sharing their responses to the question here on the blog, and via Flat Earth’s other social media channels. We hope they’ll inspire your thoughts and conversations, on your way to the theater and anywhere else you happen to be.

Contributors retain ownership of their individual works, and have granted Flat Earth permission to publish them as part of this project. If you have questions about the art or would like to know more about this artists and writers, please follow the links embedded in each post. Similarly, views expressed in contributor posts belong to those contributors, and may not reflect the views of other contributors to the project or of Flat Earth Theatre as a whole.

This March, Flat Earth Theatre smashes the glass ceiling and expands the universe with the melodious, evocative Silent Sky by Lauren Gunderson, the most popular living playwright of 2016. Silent Sky will run March 10th – 25th at the Mosesian Center for the Arts. Tickets can be purchased for $25, online in advance or at the door, or $10 student rush.

Exploding preconceptions of gender, family, and our very universe, Silent Sky tells the story of real-life Cambridge astronomer Henrietta Leavitt and her female colleagues at the Harvard Observatory. Like the women in 2016’s box office smash Hidden Figures, the “Harvard Computers” use math and measurement to chart the heavens without being allowed to touch a telescope, a task prohibited to women at the turn of the 20th century. Leavitt studies celestial bodies just out of reach while balancing the needs of love and family close at hand, and ultimately discovers the method to measure the distances of faraway galaxies, paving the way for modern astronomy.

“Silent Sky tackles issues such as women not being seen as equals in the workplace, choosing between love and work, and science versus religion,” says director Dori A. Robinson, who serves as Stoneham Theatre’s Director of Education. “Although it takes place between 1900–1920, the play resonates easily with us today.”

At this critical moment for the arts, the country, and the world, Flat Earth Theatre believes in the power of representation in theatre, and is proud to produce a play featuring a majority female cast and written by a female playwright. “Not only is gender parity a timely issue both nationwide and here in Boston, these particular women were extraordinary,” adds director Robinson. “Despite their work ethic, brilliant minds, and concrete discoveries, they could not break the glass ceiling. If ever there was a time to tell their stories, it’s now.”