Fiona Pulchny (she/her) writes Close Up, a column covering the entertainment industry and its impact on the community. She is a fourth-year student studying English Literature and French. Her email is f.pulchny@ubyssey.ca.
I’m sure we’ve all heard that Timothée Chalamet, in his own words, “took shots for no reason” at ballet and opera for being irrelevant. While his statement was pretentious, he wasn’t entirely wrong. These art forms are not as dominant in our entertainment culture as they once were – no matter how quickly the internet pounced on Chalamet to defend them.
I want to move the conversation away from Chalamet. What his pompous comment should incite is a discussion on why these art forms should be more relevant to us.
Performance is inherent to the human experience. There is no definitive origin of its existence. While Western theatrical traditions are typically attributed to the Ancient Greeks, dance and theatre in ritualistic and ceremonial forms have likely been around for as long as we’ve had stories to tell. In Canada, similar types of performance existed long before the Europeans arrived. Indigenous artistic culture is rooted in oral traditions of storytelling, music and performance that bond communities through histories and imaginings of the future. Inuit throat singing, or kataqjjaq, for instance, is one of the oldest forms of music, blending rhythm and sound to create powerful and compelling melodies. It follows that as humans, we have an inherent need to connect to each other through storytelling and movement. This art is not something that goes in and out of style.
Nowadays, we can see, watch or listen to almost anything with a few swipes of our fingers. This virtually infinite entertainment seems to invalidate the need to see art in person. However, we do not extract the full benefits of art this way. We can view clips of performances on our phones, but we lose the context of the work as a whole (and likely won’t think about it again after swiping on to the next video). We can view movies on our laptops, but we lose the connective experience of watching in a theatre with other people, let alone with the aspect ratio intended by the filmmakers. Maybe art’s accessibility has increased online, but its quality cannot be appreciated in full. Whether we’d like to admit it or not, many agree with Chalamet that “no one cares about this anymore” — that ballet and opera will inevitably be left behind.
Theatrical performances are unique in that they require our physical presence and demand our full attention. It is useless to record a video of a play to watch at a later date, when the whole purpose of attending is for the spatial experience. Theatrical entertainment is an art that demands human connection. In our digital age, we should fight to hold on to that.
A show in the theatre doesn’t just take place on stage — the experience of attending it is part of the artistic product. As an audience member, you are unified with your fellow spectators as you partake in a community event. Each laugh, gasp and tear becomes a shared emotional experience that generates connection. Events like this keep us physically connected to our community off-line.
Performers on stage equally require the physical presence of the audience for the full expression of their art. Without an audience, there is no performance at all. The performers act for the audience, with each movement designed to evoke a reaction or emotion from those in the seats. The performance demands our complete focus.
The theatre itself, too, is a unique space that moulds the experience. Theatrical productions are conscious of their constructed-ness, with stripped sets that require the audience to fill in the details. Now, take film in contrast: its visuals do all the work of transporting the watcher into a different reality. People watch films to have a world constructed for them. On the other hand, the artistic vision of theatre includes our own imagination as audience members. This is why our physical presence is needed. The performers and the audience depend on one another to bring the art to life.
AI has not taken on physical human form (yet), so we can be sure what we see on these stages are real and human. Even mistakes are part of the experience — no two performances are alike. In a time when perfection and symmetry are too easy to achieve online, the organic quality of the theatre is what makes it so special to witness.
If we are active participants in these art forms, that means we have agency in keeping them alive. Some believe Chalamet is right — that people truly don’t care anymore and that theatre is a dying art. However, there are countless examples in our own community that prove they are alive, evolving and worth supporting.
If you think theatre and dance have not evolved past Shakespeare, think again. These are active art forms – not just in a physical sense, but also in the way their stories and themes adapt to the current moment. We are lucky as UBC students to be surrounded by so much creative expression on our campus.
The Department of Theatre and Film has several productions throughout the year, the most recent being Pyper at the Frederic Wood Theatre. The play follows a group of cyborg-teens who want to create a time capsule that proves their existence. The show questions our relationship with technology and the distress of stepping into adulthood. With the rise of AI in both academic and personal spaces, the play is especially impactful for us as students while we grapple with our own reliance on technology.
Off campus, dance company Ballet BC continues to produce innovative shows that prove dance is very much not stuck in the past. Their choreographers and dancers from around the world collaborate to produce thought-provoking pieces that are as artful as they are entertaining.
The UBC Dance Team is imaginative and artful in their own right. Despite their rigorous academic obligations, the team created a year-end performance titled "Whiplash" — a name meant to evoke the multitude of contrasting genres, emotions and movements throughout the show. It was incredibly inspiring to watch dancers with so much passion for their art perform dances both entertaining and original. Their love for the craft was clear, and the cheers from the audience proved the impact of their hard work and artfulness.
And let’s not forget Vancouver’s Bard on the Beach that has brought us Shakespeare in the summertime since 1990. Although not new plays, classic stories are transformed to be relevant and entertaining for current audiences. Their 2026 season will include an adaptation of the comedy Merry Wives of Windsor, centred on a Vancouver suburb overly obsessed with soccer, as well as the tragedy Macbeth, taking place in a dystopian reality.
The performing arts are worth caring about. They are a fundamental human practice that connect us to each other. We have so many modes of entertainment at our fingertips, and while online mediums prevent us from being active participants in art forms, theatre challenges us to be present. In Vancouver and especially on UBC’s campus, companies, classes and theatres embedded into our community enable us to connect with one another through creative expression and entertainment.
Chalamet is right: it’s on us to “keep this thing alive.” The performing arts require our physical presence and support in order to thrive. Just as the arts support us, so must we fight for their survival.
This is an opinion essay, and a part of a regular column. It reflects the columnist’s views and may not reflect the views of The Ubyssey as a whole. Contribute to the conversation by visiting ubyssey.ca/pages/submit-an-opinion.
