The Spectacular Theatre of Frank Joseph Galati: Reshaping American Theatre in Chicago, Illinois. Julie Jackson. London: Methuen Drama, Bloomsbury Publishing. 2022. 215pp.

THE SPECTACULAR THEATRE OF FRANK JOSEPH GALATI: RESHAPING AMERICAN THEATRE IN CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. Julie Jackson. London: Methuen Drama/Bloomsbury Publishing, 2022; Pp. 215.

There’s a sort of melancholy ache triggered by reading this love story for all who had the good fortune to know Frank Galati. As Julie Jackson (who observed Galati in both rehearsal and classroom over the period of 1999-2006) describes him, “he’s a dancer who dances and supposes along with the rest of us” (10). Too soon after this tribute to Galati’s “spectacular theatre,” on January 2, 2023, he passed away. Jackson’s portrait of the Tony Award-winning director and beloved professor emeritus mirrors the resolute care with which Galati listened to his collaborators, from actors to designers to technicians. Her uncanny ability to recount a distinct moment—whether onstage or off—practically conjures Galati’s spirit via her prose.  

Recently published studies about groundbreaking theatre artists tend to excel in either biography (e.g., Alexis Greene’s 2021 book about Emily Mann) or frame the subject as a means of understanding their unique contributions to performance (e.g., Yuko Kurahashi’s 2020 book about Ping Chong). Jackson’s book is not simply a biography, nor is it entirely a theatre history text: it resists expected molds for both academic and trade manuscripts that otherwise claim to be about a person, place, and/or time period. Yes, it’s a book about the rise of Chicago’s theatre scene (and thus can be seen as a microhistory of the second city), and of course, it’s also about Galati’s life in theatre, but its overall claim transcends either familiar genre. This book is also about a kind of theatre-making that Galati helped create: a spectacular theatricality that, Jackson argues, reshaped American theatre in ways still felt and seen today.  

Divided into three parts, Jackson’s book tackles the legacy of Galati through different lenses in each section. In Part One (“The Rise of Off-Loop Theatre”), she takes a more traditionally theatre historical approach, providing an overview of the formative years (1969-86) for both Chicago theatre and Galati, as they matured artistically together. This section is particularly compelling for the definition Jackson builds regarding the “spectacular theatre” of the book’s title. Namely, that (in Galati’s words) “the relationship between spectacle and spectator is defined by connection and interaction rather than separation” (5). In Part Two (“Staging Stein and Steinbeck”), Jackson uses a different lens to explore Galati’s aesthetic: the middle section analyzes two pivotal productions produced between 1987 and 1990: She Always Said, Pablo and The Grapes of Wrath. Through the case studies, the author demonstrates how Galati’s work is best understood through the frame of Cubism, insofar as his worlds onstage rely “on spatial and kinesthetic intelligence rather than linguistic reasoning and causal logic” (6). Part Three (“Backstage Process and Onstage Themes”) takes yet another lens to the subject: maternal (if not matriarchal) tactics and symbols, in her analysis of his directing methods and of productions that featured “Galati’s Dangerous Women” (the subtitle of chapter 7).   

Overall, Jackson’s three sectional lenses heighten and enrich her overall thesis: that Frank Galati’s indelible methods of “’theatricaliz[ing]’ the novel” laid bare “the theatre’s paradoxical copresence of real and fake, truth and illusion, presence and absence” (6). Together, the sections help readers understand Galati as part of a genealogy forged in Chicago that merged the oral interpretation methods of literary adaptation emerging from Northwestern University with the playful improvisational games of Second City and the raw naturalistic style of Steppenwolf Theatre. Taken alone, Part One offers readers a broad sketch of Galati’s aesthetic and impact, but when combined with Jackson’s deeper dive into the intertwining of what she identifies as “three specific Cubist strategies,” readers glimpse his unique contribution to American theatre. The stark contrast between Pablo and Wrath—productions that initially appear to be polar opposites of abstract assemblage (Pablo) and gritty realism (Wrath)—proves a useful device for centering those tactics of Cubism: “playful subversion,” inspiring “extra-ordinary attention” from spectators, and the paradoxical yet planned “co-presence or mutability of… representation and presentation” (98). The final section both solidifies and troubles Jackson’s argument. Its first chapter (“Rehearsing Ensemble”) satisfies readers’ curiosity about how Galati operated backstage through poignant testimony gathered from actors and other theatre-makers who worked with him; as such, this chapter strikes me as crucial reading for emerging directors and adapters alike. The final chapter before the epilogue, however, is less successful. In her attempt to weave together nine plays directed by Galati between 1987 and 1998, Jackson leaves little room to explore nuance or overlaps between the short summaries. As a result, the final argument of the book—an attempt to heighten the ways Galati centered strong female characters (played by extraordinary actors) feels forced—an especially frustrating turn to make at the close of an otherwise persuasive and provocative read.  

There are a few other small details that may distract readers who are also theatre practitioners: between the Acknowledgements and the Author’s Preface, there is a Disclaimers page that includes one particularly puzzling choice. Jackson shares that unless stated otherwise, “stage right and stage left refer to the point of view from the audience” (xii). One could argue that the decision to focus on the stage from the audience’s point of view should be expected in a book like this, given the author’s perspective not only as a fan and frequent spectator of Chicago performance but also her recognition that Frank “loved the audience with his entire being and the audience loved him right back” (xv). But why not use the practical terms for this perspective (house right or left)? However bewildering this disclaimer (and other minor spelling anomalies throughout the text) may be, it cannot overshadow the welcome contribution that The Spectacular Theatre of Frank Joseph Galati makes to American theatre history and directing praxis: it is a fitting tribute to a man whose attentiveness to spectators’ sight and sound made space for literature and other media to utterly transform our theatrical imagination.  

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