An experiment for anyone in a desert is to see how far you can get without water. For experimental theatre artists living in the desert, water is other artists doing like-minded work, and audiences who are receptive to new ideas and new ways of making art. Phoenix is a difficult place for artists to live, but it’s not necessarily a cultural desert. There are lots and lots of bones beneath the dirt here, and the dirt does not go very deep, so the memory is really all right here, just below the surface. It’s still a terrific experience to find traces, however. One interesting project would be for someone who lived here awhile ago to get on a plane, book a room, and head downtown and try to find the site where Planet Earth Theatre once stood.
Like in the desert, where ghosts are often hiding in plain site, this theatre is now an empty lot that holds a fairly prominent position. This is the main drag for the First Fridays in Phoenix, the gallery walk night that brings out thousands of people every month, in a city that’s reputed to be dead. The rumors are, apparently, rather premature. But that doesn’t ease the wound felt by the absence of Planet Earth. Peter Cirino and his wife Molly did wonders for the theatre scene here a decade ago, and their names are well-remembered by the locals who are still here.
They were bold and daring, and liked to push limits and also push buttons, and it gave audiences something to think about. It also helped to inspire that generation of artists who were thinking the same things, but scared to say them out loud. This was elemental underground theatre, and very few people recognized what was happening. Kyle Lawson, of the Republic, was almost a singular voice who regularly gave them their due. When they left, scattered to the winds, they left a hole that’s now being filled, but you’ll have to come here yourself and see what’s new in town. Peter Cirino is still busy changing lives and inspiring young people, working as a Professor at SDSU. There’s justice sometimes.