Showing posts with label censorship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label censorship. Show all posts

04 September 2026

Journalists Are Under Strain

 

[As I avowed in my last post on Rick On Theater, “Woke Art Labeled ‘Aesthetically Terrifying“ (30 August 2026), I’m virtually a First Amendment absolutist.  I entirely believe in a free press, unfettered, uncensored, unimpeded.  In support of that position, I’m republishing the article below, “Real Life In Real Time,” a collection of short reports by actual journalists in the field about some of the difficulties they’re facing in these uncertain times. 

[The Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, the union that represents film and television actors, journalists, radio personalities, recording artists, singers, voice actors, and other media professionals worldwide, which publishes the magazine SAG-AFTRA, from which this article is drawn, is dominated by actors.  It was formed by a merger in 2012 of the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists.

[All of SAG’s membership and most of AFTRA’s were actors, so the magazine’s coverage is also most often about actors and their concerns (such as AI and intimacy coordinators), even after the merger made on-air journalists and spokespeople our brothers and sisters.  The image of the union (and therefore the magazine—which used to be called Screen Actor) is inevitably actors in movies, TV, radio, and other media. 

[“Real Life In Real Time” stood out for me because it wasn’t about actors or acting, since the journalists are our colleagues—and in jeopardy.  (The union may be dominated by the actor-members, but we’re not spotlighted in the Constitution.  The journalists are.  They’re there explicitly; were only there implicitly!)

[Let’s also not forget that while the news may report on theater-movies-TV/radio, theater-movies-TV/radio is often drawn from the news (like Good Night, and Good Luck and All the President’s Men—and even the comedies like The Front Page).

[There is a long history of artists, including theater and film artists, lending their skills and power in defense of reporters’, anchors’, and editors’ freedom to do their work and to assure their safety while doing it.  In 1947, when the House Un-American Activities Committee began its witch-hunts, Hollywood icons Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, John Huston, and Gene Kelly formed the Committee for the First Amendment.  HUAC didn’t just target Hollywood screenwriters—it threatened the editorial independence of newsrooms and journalists nationwide.

[The Hollywood stars famously flew to Washington, D.C., to protest the hearings, acting as an elite shield of artistic prestige to defend the broader, fundamental right of journalists and citizens to speak and report without government persecution.

[Before All the President’s Men (1976) was a classic film, Robert Redford made a personal mission of the defense of Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s reporting.  Redford bought the film rights to the story before the Watergate investigation was even finished or universally validated.

[At a time when the Richard Nixon administration (1969-74) was actively trying to discredit and legally crush the Washington Post, Redford used his massive Hollywood capital to legitimize, fund, and protect the narrative of investigative journalism.  He consciously used his status as an artist to build a cultural fortress around the integrity of the free press.

[As a fierce defender of free speech, former president of PEN International, Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Arthur Miller traveled to Istanbul, Turkey, for PEN and the Helsinki Watch Committee in 1985 alongside fellow playwright (and future Nobel Laureate) Harold Pinter to investigate allegations of the military junta’s torture and persecution of writers, journalists, and political dissidents.

[The two writers held a defiant press conference at the Turkish Journalists Association headquarters which the Turkish government had authorized.  Immediately after the meeting, however, the authorities prohibited the press to report it.  Learning later that a military warrant had been issued for their arrest in Istanbul, the two dramatists rushed to the airport and flew out precipitously.

[In 1997, the Creative Coalition, an advocacy group that encourages increased support of the arts and other causes, established the Christopher Reeve First Amendment Award, given regularly to prominent figures, including journalists, who fight against censorship and defend human expression. Reeve had taken a high-profile international stand for free expression in Santiago, Chile, in 1987 at the height of the Augusto Pinochet dictatorship.

[It’s the cross-over that makes this coverage significant to me: artists standing in defense of reporters, rather than artists standing for other artists.  The amalgamation of SAG and AFTRA has concretized a symbiotic relationship that has always existed.  Protecting the truth-tellers is the only way to protect the storytellers.  It’s just like Martin Niemöller’s poem “First They Came” (see “Manifesto” in “Helen Katz Kaye Eleasari (1934-2020)“ [22 April 2022]).    

[That famous poem perfectly captures the danger of a fragmented creative community failing to see that if we don’t speak out when there’s an attack on the press, when there’s an attack on the arts, there may be no one left to speak out!]

A LETTER FROM THE EXECUTIVE VICE PRESIDENT
by Linda Powell

[Below is a message-cum-editorial by the Executive Vice President of SAG-AFTRA.  Published in the Spring 2026 issue (Volume 15, Number 2) of SAG-AFTRA, the union’s membership publication, it serves as a preface to the article that follows.  (Both Powell’s letter and the article, “Real Life In Real Time,” are posted in the online edition of Spring 2026.)]

“Journalists are under strain — facing regulatory uncertainty, disrespect and shrinking newsroom resources.”

Dear Member,

I’ve sat down to write this magazine letter more than once and walked away from it. Not for lack of an idea or a point of view. I know exactly the challenge I want to explore. The obstacle is that I don’t have a solution to offer. The obstacle is the obstacles.

Our world is in transition. Transitioning to who or what and when is a mystery. I spend a lot of time representing members in rooms where the dizzying changes brought on by technology, by corporate consolidation, by the fragmentation of our media sources and by the shifting political landscape are the focus of conversation. That’s true both within our union and among the wider family of labor where SAG-AFTRA gathers with siblings around the country — and around the world. These issues are universal, and while individual challenges differ, the threats are the same: threats to our wages, to our working conditions, to our benefits, to our stability, to our jobs and to unions themselves.

I am going to date myself with this: I am a radio listener. Sometimes it’s streamed (I’m not that old), but radio — especially morning radio — is my jam. Which is why, recently, when Paramount Skydance made the decision to shut down CBS News Radio, I was taken aback. [Paramount Skydance is the multinational mass media and entertainment conglomerate that owns, among other properties, Paramount Motion Picture Group and CBS Entertainment Group.]

CBS News Radio has been a standard bearer for nearly a century. It was the home of Edward R. Murrow [1908-65] — a legendary broadcaster who exemplified journalism grounded in verification, independence and public trust.

Change is the only constant, yes. I don’t expect the radio of my grandparents to exist forever. Businesses will adjust and changes will be inevitable. As distribution evolves, audiences shift. I know all too well that the members facing layoffs at CBS are not alone. Our broadcasters have become all too familiar with this pattern. We often talk about the importance of belonging to a union in terms of wages and working conditions and benefits. Just as important are the advocacy and protections that come into play when work is abruptly terminated.

But what we are witnessing goes beyond job loss. It reaches the core of how information is produced and received.

Journalists are under strain — facing regulatory uncertainty, disrespect and shrinking newsroom resources. Meanwhile, algorithms in our “news feeds” reward speed, volume and reaction over verification. In that environment, credibility becomes harder to build and easier to erode. And truth becomes hard to agree on.

Corporations once prided themselves on their news divisions. Profit was not ignored, but it was not driven at the expense of product. Today, headlines often bear no relationship to the story below the fold. In our social media environment, the news I’m seeing often bears no relationship to the news that you are seeing. Outrage bait increasingly drives our cultural conversations.

The broadcasters I stand next to have not changed; they are mission-driven and committed to hold power to account and serve the public with verified reporting. But the headwinds they face are growing stronger.

Circling back to where I started — I don’t have the answers to these obstacles. But I do know that, in this moment, supporting broadcast journalists with strong contracts, advocacy, resources and funding is not only crucial to our strength as a union, it is crucial to the health of our democracy.

In solidarity,

/s/ Linda Powell

[Linda Powell is the current Executive Vice President of SAG-AFTRA and also serves as a trustee of the SAG-AFTRA Health and SAG Pension plans.  She’s a New York-based actress who’s appeared on Broadway and off and has been seen on screen in such shows as Dopesick (miniseries; Disney+. 2021), House of Cards (TV series; Netflix, 2013-18), Chicago Fire (TV Series; NBC, 2012-present), Madam Secretary (CBS; TV series; 2014-19), Law and Order: Special Victims Unit (TV series; NBC, 1999-present), and films including The Report (Amazon Studios, 2019), I Think I Love My Wife (Fox Searchlight, 2007), and American Gangster (Universal, 2007). 

[Powell’s a proud member of Actors Equity Association and most recently enjoyed a long run as Neil Diamond’s therapist in the Broadway bio-musical A Beautiful Noise (Broadhurst Theatre, 2022-23).  

[She was a Vice Chair of the negotiating committee for SAG-AFTRA’s recently ratified TV/Theatrical contract and is Chair of the board of advisors for the Colin Powell School for Civic and Global Leadership at the City College of New York.  (Linda Powell is the daughter of Alma and Colin Powell, the former United States National Security Advisor [1987-89], Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff [1989-93], and Secretary of State [2001-05].)]

*  *  *  *
REAL LIFE IN REAL TIME

[Like the letter from Linda Powell posted above, the article below is from SAG-AFTRA Volume 15, Number 2 (Spring 2026).]

SAG-AFTRA BROADCASTERS PRIORITIZE SAFETY IN THE FIELD

Reporting the news doesn’t come without its obstacles. For SAG-AFTRA broadcasters who find themselves in the field reporting breaking stories live, getting the right angle or an eyewitness’s interview brings a level of personal risk — particularly during and these perilous times. 

The U.S. Press Freedom Tracker, a database established in 2017 to collect and analyze incidents in the field, reported January and February had the highest number of press freedom violations for the first two months of any year. Equipment searches and detainment by law enforcement, as well as physical assaults, are some of the tense situations news reporters experience. But other situations, such as natural disasters or standoffs involving law enforcement, can expose reporters to dangers to life and limb.

Truth-telling requires persevering in adverse circumstances. Today’s increasingly tense and volatile social and political climate has made broadcast reporting in the United States a more dangerous job than perhaps it has ever been. Here are accounts from five SAG-AFTRA broadcasters of how they stay safe — physically and mentally — so they can continue the important work of informing the public.

ALWAYS STAY READY
Anar Virji, Field Producer for Al Jazeera English 

“When I think of safety, I think about what that means for all of us working together. I encourage colleagues to speak up if they have a concern, and I plan as much as I can before we go out. That means advocating for safety and first aid training at work, and then using that to organize before you go on assignment.

“Things that I keep in my travel gear include a medical kit, a headlamp in case we lose electricity, and backup batteries to charge electronics. Then I try to think site-specific: Are we going into protests? Is it a hurricane or other weather event? What sort of access will we have to food, water and bathrooms? Will we have cellphone service? These answers come from [having] experience, talking to colleagues and speaking to people in the area.

“For protests, I’ve found that gas masks are incredibly useful safety gear. I also pack an extra foldable duffle bag to put my clothes in if I’m tear-gassed or pepper-sprayed.

“For feature stories I’ve produced, I’ve traveled to Native Alaskan and Native American villages without hotels and have slept in a school or camped. In those situations, we were also without regular cellphone service, which meant speaking with editors about when we expected to be back in range, something also essential in natural disasters.

“My strategy is always to think long-term and collectively about safety. That makes it easier, rather than thinking of it only when stories [are unfolding].”

BRINGING IN THE CAVALRY
Chip Mitchell, Reporter for WBEZ Chicago 

“I’ve had my share of hazardous reporting assignments over the years. I’ve traveled along rural Colombian highways when kidnapping for ransom was a threat. I’ve been up close to NATO summit protesters clashing with police in downtown Chicago, and on the South Side, I had reported on the city’s first widespread looting and gun violence after George Floyd’s killing [25 May 2020].

“Then, one Friday evening last September, my bosses sent me to an ICE processing facility, just west of Chicago, as President Trump’s deportation blitz was hitting high gear. A couple hundred protesters were chanting and jeering at ICE and U.S. Border Patrol agents. I saw feds responding with pepper balls, tear gas, chemical sprays and stun grenades. ‘Stinger’ [a tactical, “less-lethal” crowd-control weapon explicitly designed to explode and spray dozens of small rubber projectiles] detonations showered the crowd with rubber pellets.

“My employer, a nonprofit that owns a public radio station and major newspaper, was starting to outfit its reporters and photographers with gas masks, goggles, helmets, vests, decontamination wipes and so on. I had what I needed that night. I knew [when] to step back and avoid getting caught between the protesters and agents.

“But I faced a safety challenge the equipment and positioning could not address. Once the agents started using the riot-control weapons, the event became big news. I was expected to supply reports to the radio station, its national network, the newspaper, two websites and a live blog. That would be challenging under the best of circumstances, but especially on a night when [there weren’t] many editors on duty. So, I didn’t get much help prioritizing the news outlets and deadlines — not to mention making decisions about sourcing and safety risks.

“I had to spend a lot of time thumbing around on my phone, trying to rustle up off-duty editors and begging for coordination. The phone work required looking down at the device when I should have been looking up and devoting my full attention to things like protester arrests and teargas canisters.

“I didn’t get hurt. Over the next few days, though, I let newsroom managers know they had dropped the ball on editor staffing that night, that it hurt our coverage and that it could have jeopardized my safety.

“One thing I appreciated was having a union. We had organized a SAG-AFTRA unit at the radio station a decade earlier. During those conversations with bosses, I knew that the union would have my back if I needed it. That support strengthened my confidence to communicate clearly with management.”

[WBEZ is a non-commercial educational radio station in Chicago.  It’s the National Public Radio news outlet in the city.]

SAFETY IS MORE THAN A WORD
Frankie McLister, Reporter for WCCO-TV, CBS News Minnesota

“‘Safety is the No. 1 priority’ sounds quite cliché — but to me, it’s cliché for a reason. As a reporter in Minneapolis, I’ve been tested to keep this phrase at the forefront of my mind, especially throughout our coverage of Operation Metro Surge, the nearly two-month-long surge of 3,000 federal agents to the state [4 December 2025-12 February 2026].

“At all times, I have the proper gear. This includes pepper spray in every bag I keep handy, in the side compartment of my vehicle and, sometimes, right in my pocket during a live shot. Additionally, I often find myself communicating with my photojournalist and security guard (if one is provided — though in general, we’ve had a lot of security assistance during large-scale news events). I tell them I’m watching their backs, and this prompts them to keep safety at the forefront and reinforces that I view [the work] as a team effort.

“When I say I’m always watching — I’m truly always watching. And I think it’s important to communicate that. My badge is on hand, and I’m also mindful of what I’m wearing and where I’m wearing it. For example, if I’m in a part of town with a higher crime rate, I might choose not to wear my shiny watch.

“Once you keep the lines of communication open and make safety your first priority, it becomes natural. My goggles were already around my neck while covering several events involving tear gas — and that’s when I knew it was no longer a second thought, just like a seatbelt in the car.”

TEAMWORK REMAINS WHEN TRAGEDY ENDS
Annie Rose Ramos, General Assignment Reporter for KTLA 5 News

“In Los Angeles, SAG-AFTRA members at KTLA [television station in Los Angeles, California] have partnered with station management to address field safety concerns during contract negotiations with Nexstar [multimedia conglomerate founded in 1996, the largest television broadcasting company in the United States, owning 265 television stations]. In the aftermath of the devastating wildfires in 2025 [7-31 January] . . . conditions were unpredictable in the field.

“For days, the ground was still smouldering [sic; British spelling]. In the weeks [afterward], the air was difficult to breathe. For months, toxic debris lay on the ground. As field teams, we wanted to ensure we were being mindful of the health impacts, working with our station to create kits that included hazmat suits, goggles, masks and water.

“We continued to remain proactive when it concerned the hazardous area so many neighborhoods had become in the wake of the wildfires. Backyards had broken branches. Power lines were down and snaked along the streets. Electric car batteries were melted into the ashes and rubble. It was about watching where you walked, where you turned, what you touched. Managers at our station knew that, too. They kept a watchful eye, and if we didn’t see something that could pose a risk, they did — they called us and advised us to move locations. It was about teamwork, and continues to be, to ensure safety.”

CLARITY, DOCUMENTATION AND DISCIPLINE
JJ Green, National Security Correspondent for WTOP

“Disinformation is not abstract. It is kinetic.

“In heated political seasons, lies do not simply distort facts, they weaponize audiences. When a journalist is falsely labeled a traitor, partisan operative, foreign agent or enemy of the people, that narrative does not stay online. It migrates. It hardens. It radicalizes. And eventually, it can show up in a parking lot, outside a home or at a crowded public event.

“We have seen the progression. Smear campaigns escalate into coordinated harassment. Harassment metastasizes into doxxing [publishing the private personal information of someone or revealing the identity of an online poster without the consent of that individual; also doxing]. Doxxing produces stalking. And stalking can become violence. The risk matrix for journalists now includes physical surveillance, targeted intimidation, online swatting [causing a SWAT team (from Special Weapons and Tactics, a military-like unit within U.S. police forces) to be deployed on an unsuspecting victim, especially a public figure or someone prominent on social media by falsifying a threat, often as a punishment or retaliation] attempts and threats amplified by algorithmic outrage cycles. Disinformation collapses the distinction between rhetoric and action.

“For national security reporters, especially those covering intelligence, war, extremism or political corruption, the danger compounds. False narratives are designed to delegitimize professional reporting. They seek to isolate the journalist from the public, to frame truth-telling as treachery, and to create a permissive environment for intimidation.

“The first countermeasure is narrowing the firehose [the massive, relentless, and overwhelming flood of false information and online provocations used by manipulators], refusing to react to every provocation and denying manipulators oxygen. The second is discipline and documentation, maintaining rigorous transparency in reporting to inoculate against narrative distortion. The third is threat awareness, monitoring online chatter patterns, recognizing coordinated amplification and understanding when rhetoric crosses into credible risk. Finally, resilience, both psychological and procedural. Calm is a defensive tool. Emotional reactivity is an exploitable vulnerability.

“Disinformation thrives on fear, anger and spectacle. My defense is clarity, documentation and discipline.

“Because in a season where lies travel faster than light, survival, professional and physical, depends on refusing to let them control the battlefield.”

[WTOP is an all-news radio station in Washington, D.C.]

MAKING CHANGE WHERE HISTORY IS TOLD
Bob Butler’s Story

Journalists have always faced challenges in the field, but safety has become a greater concern as public demonstrations became more commonplace, said SAG-AFTRA Vice President, Broadcasters, Bob Butler, a veteran reporter in radio and television. 

“I worked at KCBS Radio in San Francisco for 42 years,” said Butler, who retired in 2023. “As a reporter, I never had to worry about my personal safety until the Oscar Grant riots in 2010 [following the police shooting on 1 January 2009] and Occupy Wall Street Demonstrations in 2011 [17 September-15 November]. The most difficult times are during protests and demonstrations, especially when [people] start marching. The danger came mostly from being in crowds that were hit by police tear gas.”

In the field, Butler’s Golden Rule was to employ the buddy system with himself and his fellow crewmate, often a photographer, or, when working alone, to stay with other journalists in a group. In the newsroom, bringing attention to safety risks led to advocating for more safety precautions.    

“The AFTRA [nb: these events predate the 2012 SAG-AFTRA merger] local staff instituted safety briefings that included news reporter members, management, photographers, leadership from the technical unions and law enforcement. These meetings led to best practices designed to keep crews safe,” said Butler. “A couple of the steps that were taken here in San Francisco were for television stations to hire security guards for their news crew [and] purchase cameras with tracking devices.”

Still, Butler points to a need for the concern for broadcasters to be shared across the board. 

“Broadcast journalists face a number of challenges from political leaders, ambivalent managers and an increasingly skeptical electorate. Adding threats to our personal safety makes our job of providing information to keep the public informed even more difficult.”


18 April 2026

Tamizdat – Тамиздат


[The article reposted below, about books banned in the Soviet Union (and now also in Vladimir Putin’s Russian Federation), caught my attention for two reasons.  One, it’s about Russian literature, and, as many readers of Rick On Theater will know, I studied Russian in college and then in the army. 

[Two, I am utterly opposed to censorship for political or religious reasons.  As I’ve said many times on this blog, I am pretty much a First Amendment absolutist.  I’ve blogged on various kinds of censorship, mostly in this country, on ROT, and, having read “Banned by the Soviets,” I knew I had to add it to my coverage of this act.]

BANNED BY THE SOVIETS, AVAILABLE IN NEW YORK
by Sarah Chatta

[This article ran in the print edition of the New York Times on 1 March 2026 in the “Metropolitan” section.  It was posted online as “The Kremlin Banned These Books. You Can Find Them in a New York Library” on 23 February.]

A professor has built a collection of contraband books from an earlier era.

Millions of banned books were smuggled into the Soviet Union in the 20th century — often in small batches, hidden in deliberately mislabeled containers, packed in food tins or tampon boxes and, in at least one case, tucked into a child’s diaper.

Soviet tourists visiting Western Europe brought mini-volumes of “Doctor Zhivago” [Boris Pasternak (1890-1960), 1957 in Russian (Milan, Italy); 1958 in English (New American Library)] back home with them. Members of the Moscow Philharmonic were said to have lined their sheet music with book pages. From balloon-launching sites in West Germany, copies of George Orwell’s [1903-50] “Animal Farm” [English; 1945] were lofted into Eastern Europe.

Published in Russian and other languages and known as “tamizdat,” the books were part of an audacious American venture, part literature, part propaganda and part spycraft, to destabilize the authoritarian Soviet regime from within.

Over the past several years, Hunter College in Manhattan has become home to a library of these remarkable books, thousands of which were once banned in the Soviet Union and elsewhere in Eastern Europe, and hundreds more that are censored in Russia today. The library is run by the nonprofit Tamizdat Project, which now possesses one of the largest special collections of contraband Russian literature in the world.

[Hunter College at Park Avenue and East 68th Street is a division of the City University of New York (CUNY).]

The library is open to visitors upon request, and this month White Rabbit Books on the Upper West Side will open a new section of its store devoted to selling old and new contraband Russian literature curated by the project.

[White Rabbit Books at 200 West 86th Street, Manhattan, New York City, is a bookstore with Russian, English, Ukrainian, and Hebrew books designed for various children’s ages.  It hosts book club activities and cultural events for children and teenagers. (White Rabbit Books in the United Kingdom is a prominent music and literary publisher based in London and Essex, not associated with the NYC shop.)]

The Tamizdat Project is the brainchild of Yakov Klots, a soft-spoken, unassuming literary scholar who teaches at Hunter. He chose the name from a Russian word meaning “published abroad,” which, along with samizdat (“to self-publish”), was one of the two main methods of evading Soviet book censorship. The Iron Curtain, he noted, “wasn’t so iron after all,” and the books seeped through.

[Chatta is a little free with her English renderings of samizdat (самиздат) and tamizdat (тамиздат). They’re two Russian portmanteau words formed by joining two words (or parts of two words, to coin a new word that combines their meanings (English examples: ‘televangelist’ = ‘television’ + ‘evangelist’; ‘cockapoo’ = ‘cocker spaniel’ + ‘poodle’).

[The Russians, and especially the Soviets, were very fond of acronyms (GUM [ГУМ]; Gosudarstvennyi Universalnyi Magazín [Государственный Универсальный Магазин], or State Universal [that is, ‘Department’] Store; since 1991, Glavnyi Universalnyi Magazin [Главный Универсальный Магазин], Main Universal Store) and portmanteaus (Soviet: Comintern [Коминтерн]; Communist International [Коммунистический интернационал; Kommunisticheskiy internatsional]; post-Soviet: Zomboyashchik [Зомбоящик], Zombie [зомби] +  Yashchik [ящик; ‘box’] = “Zombie Box,” slang for a television).

[In this instance, the second part of the portmanteaus is from the word izdatel'stvo (издательство), which means ‘publishing house’ or ‘publisher.’ The portmanteau use was meant as a pun on the name of the official Soviet state publishing house, Gosudarstvennoye izdatel'stvo (Государственное издательство), known as Gosizdat (Госиздат).

[Sam (сам) is the Russian word for ‘self’ (samoubiystvo [самоубийство]: ‘suicide,’ literally ‘self-murder’), so samizdat is literally ‘self-publisher’ (as if there were publishing company with such a name) or, more colloquially, ‘self-published.’ Unfortunately, in the more comfortable English term, the wry pun is lost—but it probably wouldn’t really connect with an English speaker in any case.

[Tam (там) is Russian for ‘there’ (the opposite of tut [тут; ‘here’]), so tamizdat (тамиздат) is literally ‘there-publisher’ or ‘over there-publisher’—meaning, of course, somewhere other than the USSR.  Again, we’d more likely say ‘published abroad.’

Mr. Klots has assembled the library bit by bit, recruiting his students to build the metal IKEA bookshelves and soliciting book donations from friends and strangers, including the former U.S. ambassador to Russia, John Beyrle [b. 1954; U.S. Ambassador to Russia: 2008-12].

With this collection, the story of the “significant intellectual effort of both Soviet creators and Western partners — the publishers and funders and whoever else, smugglers — it is all in one place,” said Alla Roylance, New York University’s Slavic studies librarian, who donated some of her own books to the Tamizdat Project. “That is incredibly relevant these days,” she added, as the Kremlin unleashes a new wave of censorship.

Page by page

Mr. Klots grew up with contraband Russian literature in the Soviet city of Perm, near the Ural Mountains. His mother, he said, “would take a train to Moscow just to stop by an apartment of one dissident who would give her Solzhenitsyn.” Then she would stay up late into the night duplicating the borrowed book, page by page.

[Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (1918-2008) was a Soviet and Russian author and dissident, best known for One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich (Russian, 1962; English – censored, 1963; uncensored, 1991), August 1914 (Russian, 1971; English, 1972), and The Gulag Archipelago (Russian, 1973 by a Parisian publisher; English, 1974).]

“One of my childhood memories is my mother typing something at night and me falling asleep to the sound of the typewriter,” he said.

Countless Soviet households have similar stories of treasuring contraband literature — hiding “Doctor Zhivago” under a grandmother’s mattress, making a copy of the poet Anna Akhmatova’s masterpiece, “Requiem.”

[Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966) was a Russian and Soviet poet who was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1965 and 1966. She is best known for Requiem, an elegy about the Stalinist terror (published in Russian in Munich in 1963 and in English in 1973).]

In the winter of 2022, Mr. Klots had just finished writing a book about the history of Cold War censorship [Tamizdat: Contraband Russian Literature in the Cold War Era (Northern Illinois University Press, 2023)]. Then Russia invaded Ukraine, and the Kremlin began a crackdown on free expression at home at a scale unseen since the Soviet era. Russian officials targeted authors, arrested publishers and censored fan fiction websites. The police raided bookstores, and officials drew up lists of objectionable literature, requiring librarians to pull works by Vladimir Sorokin [Russian novelist, short story writer, and playwright; b. 1955], Lyudmila Ulitskaya [Russian novelist and short story writer; b. 1943], Haruki Murakami [Japanese novelist, essayist, and short story writer; b. 1949], Truman Capote [American novelist, screenwriter, and playwright; 1924-84], Susan Sontag [American critic, essayist, and novelist; 1933-2004] and Danielle Steel [American romance novelist; b. 1947], among others.

“All of a sudden it became no longer history, but the present and reality again,” Mr. Klots said. “I just couldn’t stand in front of my students and only teach and only tell them about the peculiarities of Russian literature.”

[It’s also not confined to the former Soviet Union! On 6 February 2025, the Department of Defense Education Activity (DoDEA, the Pentagon agency responsible for planning, directing, coordinating, and managing pre-kindergarten through 12th-grade educational programs), announced it would remove books related to “gender ideology or discriminatory equity ideology topics” from its schools. See “Pentagon Bans Books from Base Schools” (11 November 2025). 

[An order to remove certain books from service academy libraries was issued on 29 March 2025. The action was directed at the U.S. Naval Academy before being expanded to West Point (9 April) and the Air Force Academy (15/16 April).]

He founded the Tamizdat Project, through which he built the library, raised money to help students fleeing war and persecution, and archived oral histories of literary repression. When the Tamizdat Project announced it was publishing a book by an author critical of President Vladimir Putin [Linor Goralik, Exodus-22 | Исход-22; 2025], Russia branded the organization a “foreign agent.” Now, anyone in Russia who so much as shares the Tamizdat Project’s website without a disclaimer could be penalized.

Mr. Klots shrugged off the threat. The Tamizdat Project plans to publish five new titles this winter and spring. If history is any indication, he said, the impact of a tamizdat book could be like a stone thrown in a lake: “Wherever it falls, the waves get much bigger.”

A pure detective story

New York City is a fitting locale for the work of the Tamizdat Project. For most of the 20th century it was home to the publishers, academics, activists and philanthropists who saw the potential of contraband books during and even before the Cold War.

The first novel officially banned in the Soviet Union, “We” [Мы, romanized: My] — a dystopian vision of totalitarianism by Yevgeny Zamyatin [Russian author of science fiction, philosophy, literary criticism, and political satire; 1884-1937] — was published twice in New York before it could be released at home. Mr. Zamyatin managed to send his manuscript abroad, and E.P. Dutton released it, in English, in 1924. More than 60 years later, when Soviet authorities lifted the ban, some of the country’s citizens had already read it. Mr. Zamyatin’s Russian-language original had already been printed in 1952 by Chekhov Publishing House in New York.

“It was just a pure detective story, how every single book got published as tamizdat,” Mr. Klots said.

Chekhov Publishing House received covert funding from the Central Intelligence Agency through the Ford Foundation, writes the British journalist and historian Frances Stonor Saunders [British journalist and historian; b. 1966] in “The Cultural Cold War,” and was one of numerous literary ventures in the city supported by the agency. The C.I.A. also had a banned-book dissemination program, known for years as the International Literary Center, headquartered on Park Avenue. Under the stewardship of the exiled Romanian aristocrat George Minden [1921-2006], the organization ran a vast international book distribution network that smuggled some 10 million books and magazines into communist countries, often by mail and in diplomatic pouches.

At its height, the Cold War project of printing literature banned in — and very often destined for — communist countries explicitly involved more than a dozen New York publishing houses.

Government analysts described Cold War book distribution, probably one of the least expensive of the C.I.A.’s covert operations, as a “demonstrably effective” way of reaching the Soviet elite and influencing their attitudes “toward intellectual and cultural freedom, and dissatisfaction with its absence.”

Newly relevant

As the scope of Russian censorship has widened in recent years, the history of New York’s Soviet-era banned-book publishers has gained new relevance. “Even if these people are no longer around,” Mr. Klots said, they “laid the foundation for a project like the Tamizdat Project to exist and to build on their legacy.”

One of the Tamizdat Project’s most significant donations came from the family of Edward Kline [1932-2017], a philanthropist who led a double life in New York. Most knew him as the millionaire chief executive of the Kline Brothers department store chain, but the Soviet human rights movement knew him as a chief advocate and underwriter of its publishing work.

The Tamizdat Project has started to reveal the extent of Mr. Kline’s activities. Among his many endeavors, he acquired and revived Chekhov Publishing House, releasing what became canonical 20th-century Russian literature: original works by Nadezhda Mandelstam [Soviet writer, translator, educator, linguist, and memoirist; 1899-1980], Lydia Chukovskaya [Soviet and Russian writer, poet, editor, publicist, memoirist and dissident; 1907-96] and Joseph Brodsky [Russian and American poet and essayist; 1940-96].

Mr. Kline’s daughter, Carole Feuer [b. 1960], spoke with the Tamizdat Project about the years when Soviet exiles like Mr. Brodsky frequented her family’s Park Avenue apartment. During one visit, a leading dancer of the Bolshoi Ballet, Alexander Godunov [1949-95], defected to the United States in her living room [1979]. “He was somewhat cute,” she said, “and it was the day I was supposed to go to college.”

Several years earlier, Mr. Kline started Khronika Press with the Soviet dissidents Valery Chalidze [Soviet author, publisher, dissident, and human rights activist; 1938-2018] and later Pavel Litvinov [Russian-born U.S. physicist, writer, teacher, human rights activist and former Soviet-era dissident; b. 1940]. Khronika produced a bimonthly magazine in Russian and English that regularly broke news of arrests and human rights abuses in the Soviet Union [A Chronicle of Human Rights in the USSR (1973-82); Хроника защиты прав человека в СССР (Khronika zashchity prav cheloveka v SSSR)]. For a time it served as the main voice of the Soviet opposition.

Without Mr. Kline, his old collaborator Mr. Litvinov told the Tamizdat Project, Khronika Press “wouldn’t have existed.”

A growing movement

Today Mr. Klots is one of many in a growing community of Eastern European immigrants picking up where the Soviet human rights movement left off. A new group of Russian dissidents recently created a new Kronika in New York, this time backed by PEN America [nonprofit organization whose goal is to raise awareness for the protection of free expression in the United States and worldwide] and Bard College [Annandale-on-Hudson, New York], with a more expansive mandate than its predecessors: to preserve independent media from places where journalists are persecuted, including Russia and Guatemala. It calls this work “digital resistance to state censorship.”

In Brooklyn, Anya Morlan-Stysis opened Kvartira [731 Washington Avenue], a nonprofit bookstore that caters to Eastern European exiles and their supporters. Against bright yellow walls and a wide array of children’s literature, Kvartira hosts talks with dissident authors and evenings for participants to write letters to political prisoners. It is the only brick-and-mortar shop listed in New York City as a vendor by the banned-book publisher Freedom Letters. (Last September Russia added the store’s website to a register of proscribed sites, citing unspecified “extremist information.”)

In 2024 Knopf published “Patriot,” the memoir of the late opposition leader Aleksei Navalny [1976-2024], which Russia has since outlawed for inciting “hatred and enmity” toward the government. Last summer Abrams [Books; U.S. publishing house] released an English translation of “Pioneer Summer” [by Ukrainian-Russian duo Katerina Silvanova and Elena Malisova], the gay teen romance that the Kremlin banned after it became a popular sensation. This represents only a small fraction of the global output of contraband titles, some 600 or 700 by Mr. Klots’s estimate, produced since 2023.

[The Pioneers (Пионеры) was a children’s communist organization in the USSR. Children joined in elementary school and remained until around the equivalent of our middle school/junior high; adolescents shifted over to other organizations.

[On the surface, the Pioneers resembled the Boy Scouts and other similar organizations, but along with the scouting activities, community projects like collecting scrap metal, and sports, the Pioneers also went through ideological indoctrination and military simulation games and basic military instruction.

[Membership was virtually mandatory as the Pioneers and the Pioneer Palaces were the only outlets for any kind of programs for children and youth. Inducements, such as preferential admission to universities and especially to the top schools, made membership attractive. Children who chose not to join were often marginalized by their peers as well as the party apparatus that controlled access to both amenities and necessities.]

“I can’t help thinking about what will actually remain from this new time of tamizdat that’s so exponentially growing today,” he said. “I can’t imagine anyone reading Solzhenitsyn as their bedtime reading, can you? But everyone was doing it not so long ago.”

The Tamizdat Project hopes to help a new generation rediscover such books. “It’s enough for a text to find itself elsewhere for it to become a new book,” Mr. Klots said.

[I served five years in the army in the early 1970s, a low-point in the U.S.-Soviet Cold War, as a Military Intelligence officer, including, as ROTters will know, a 2½-year tour in West Berlin.  Though both samizdat and tamizdat were in practice at that time, I never had any contact with that kind of publication.

[Years after I got out of the service and was trying to make my way in the theater in New York City, however, I saw first-hand the final chapter of a story that began with a variation on both publishing tactics.  (I’ve told this story on ROT before, but readers, I think, will excuse me for telling it again here.)

[I got to know experimental theater director Leonardo Shapiro (1946-97) in the mid-1980s and into the early ’90s (and have blogged about him, his company, and their work many times).  In 1992, when I was researching a profile of Shapiro and The Shaliko Company for The Drama Review, the director was in rehearsal for his third staging of Kafka: Father and Son by Russian dramatist and director Mark Rozovsky (b. 1937).

[Shaliko had produced the play first from 28 February to 24 March 1985 at La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club, its world première.  It’s the story of the play’s origin and how Shapiro got the script and brought it home that’s pertinent here.

[In March 1984, Shapiro and his partner in The Shaliko Company, Elena Prischepenko went to Russia on a three-week theater tour with a group of theater professionals.  The tour spent two weeks in Moscow and at the Soviet writers’ union, Shapiro made “a rather intemperate . . . speech” about seeing so many plays with “happy endings.”  He asked the assembled playwrights why they didn’t “have the courage to talk about life as it really was.” 

[According to Shapiro, after the session, Rozovsky told him, “I have play, no happy ending, you want?”  They arranged to meet secretly and the playwright turned over the manuscript of Kafka: Father and Son (Russian: Кафка: отец и сын), “[j]ust like . . . a spy novel.” 

[Rozovsky had workshopped Kafka at the Moscow Art Theater Studio around 1983, but Pyotr Demichev (1918-2010), Minister of Culture for Soviet leader Yuri Andropov (1914-84; General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union: 1982-84), who’d been Chairman of the KGB from 1967 until 1982, cancelled the performances after the second preview, because the Czech embassy protested that discussions of the works of Franz Kafka (Czech; 1883-1924) had been the incitement for the start of the Prague Spring of 1968, so it never officially opened. 

[Shapiro said he “smuggled it out under my shirt,” and Prischepenko translated it when they got back to the United States.  In March 1985, Shapiro presented the world première of Kafka: Father and Son.  The play was both “published” (in typescript only) by samizdat and, since it was accomplished abroad, by tamizdat.

[After Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev (1931-2022; General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union: 1985-91; President of the Soviet Union: 1990-91) initiated his policy of glasnost’, or ‘openness,’ in 1986, Rozovsky was permitted to stage the play at his Theater at the Nikitsky Gate and he invited Shapiro to come to Moscow to direct it.  Rehearsals were in April 1990 and the Russian (and Russian-language) première was in May.

[Here’s a list of past posts on the topic of censorship: 

•   Degrading the Arts” (13 August 2009)

   The First Amendment & The Arts” (8 May 2010)

   Disappearing Theater” (19 July 2010)

   “‘The Arts Are Under Attack (Again!)’” by Paul Molloy [Allegro] (22 May 2011)

   Culture War” (6 February 2014)

   The First Amendment & The Arts, Redux” (13 February 2015)

   “‘How to Free Speech” by Lee C. Bollinger (23 November 2015)

   Fighting for Free Expression” (5 February 2016)

   “‘Arts and the State” [1990] by Paul Mattick, Jr. (14 November 2021)

   Censorship on School Stages” (30 July 2023)

   “‘The Courage to Produce: A Conversation on High School Censorship’” by Allison Considine, Jessica Lit, Jordan Stovall, and Nadine Smith (21 April 2024)

   America’s Culture War—Now at Your Local Theater” (25 October 2024)

   “‘The Arts and the Battle for the Soul of Civilization” by Dr. Indira Etwaroo (4 May 2025)

   Degrading the Arts (Redux)” (14 May 2025)

   Pentagon Bans Books from Base Schools” (11 November 2025)

   More on Censorship of School Theater” (12 December 2025)

[Sarah Chatta is an editorial assistant in the Opinion department of the New York Times.  In addition to her editorial work, she writes for the paper.  Before joining the Times in October 2024, Chatta held several diverse roles in journalism and education, including fact-checker at the New Yorker, where her writing and translations were also published; freelance editor for Novaya Gazeta Europe, an independent Russian newspaper published in Riga, Latvia; investigative story coordinator for the syndicated tabloid television newsmagazine Inside Edition; and international reporter for the Daily News in Sri Lanka and the Chilkat Valley News in Alaska.  Chatta studied Russian and creative writing at Oberlin College (Oberlin, Ohio), which informs much of her current reporting on Russian literary and cultural history.]


12 December 2025

More on Censorship of School Theater


[In “Censorship on School Stages” (30 July 2023), I wrote:

The First Amendment to our Constitution—Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech . . .—is supposed to protect artistic expression.  It’s significant, though, that the First Amendment constrains only government action—federal, state, and local—not private conduct.  State-supported (that is, ‘public’) schools, whether primary and secondary schools or state colleges and universities, are arms of the government, however. . . .

As I declared on Rick On Theater back in 2010 in ”The First Amendment & The Arts,” I’m fundamentally a First Amendment absolutist.  In that post, I quoted one of my favorite theater lines, from Peter Stone and Sherman Edwards’s Tony-winning (Best Musical) 1969 Broadway musical, 1776.  

The character Stephen Hopkins (1707-85), delegate from Rhode Island to the Continental Congress and signer of the Declaration of Independence, declares, when asked for his vote for or against an open debate on independence:

Well, I’ll tell y’—in all my years I never heard, seen, nor smelled an issue that was so dangerous it couldn’t be talked about.  Hell yes, I’m for debatin’ anything . . .!

That’s exactly how I feel about free speech.  In this democracy, we shouldn’t be constrained from talking about anything.  That includes ideas other people don’t like.  

The only proper response to speech we don’t like is more speech.  Justice Louis D. Brandeis (1856-1941; Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States: 1916-39) wrote that in 1927 (Whitney v. California).  You don’t cut people off when you don’t like what they’re saying; you debate them.  (It’s known as “The Counterspeech Doctrine.”)

[These words couldn’t be more appropriate to preface the post below, two-and-a-half years later.  In the time since I first blogged on this topic, I reiterated my support for freedom of speech and artistic expression in posts including:

      Degrading the Arts” (13 August 2009)•
   “The First Amendment & The Arts” (8 May 2010)
   Disappearing Theater” (19 July 2010)
   “‘The Arts Are Under Attack (Again!)’” by Paul Molloy [Allegro] (22 May 2011)
   Culture War” (6 February 2014)
   The First Amendment & The Arts, Redux” (13 February 2015)
   “‘How to Free Speech” by Lee C. Bollinger (23 November 2015)
   Fighting for Free Expression” (5 February 2016)
   “‘Arts and the State” [1990] by Paul Mattick, Jr. (14 November 2021)
   “Censorship on School Stages” (30 July 2023)
   “‘The Courage to Produce: A Conversation on High School Censorship’” by Allison Considine, Jessica Lit, Jordan Stovall, and Nadine Smith (21 April 2024)
   America’s Culture War—Now at Your Local Theater” (25 October 2024)
   “‘The Arts and the Battle for the Soul of Civilization” by Dr. Indira Etwaroo (4 May 2025)
   Degrading the Arts (Redux)” (14 May 2025)
   Pentagon Bans Books from Base Schools” (11 November 2025).
   

[In The Life of the Theatre, Judith Malina (1926-2015) of the Living Theatre asserted that her husband and partner Julian Beck defined an artist as “a maker of maps” who “will draw up the map for the liberation of dreams: the transformation of ideas into working acts.”

[“The work of the artist,” Beck (1925-85) wrote, is “as the creative of solutions thru [sic] the exercise of the imagination.”  He further declared, “An actor who brings back from his adventures a moment of communicable penetration is a hero, the light of our lives.”

[Artists see the future long before any scientist or engineer can invent it.  Da Vinci saw flying machines half a millennium before the bothers Wright made history at Kitty Hawk; Cyrano de Bergerac envisioned men on the moon three centuries before any Apollo spacecraft was launched; Jules Verne put Captain Nemo in a submarine decades before a real one was built.  As Shakespeare’s Duke Theseus of Athens put it:

The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name. (Midsummer Night’s Dream V.i)

[“Things unknown” are often also “things uncomprehended.” “Things uncomprehended” are often “things unwelcome.” It is the artist who is usually at the forefront of efforts to acquaint us with and explain these “things,” often whether we want to hear about them or not.  Silencing artists is an act of willful blindness.  We do it at our own peril.]

[REDACTED] ROUNDTABLE
by Robert Schenkkan 

[Playwright Robert Schenkkan’s transcript of this roundtable appeared in The Dramatist Vol. 27 No. 4 (Autumn 2025): “Courage.  The Dramatist is the quarterly journal of the Dramatists Guild of America.  The discussion transcribed below was posted on the website of the Dramatists Guild on 1 September 2025.]

This roundtable discussion with Jereme Anglin, Brent Lindsay, Dean Jahnsen, and Leila Paine was moderated by Robert Schenkkan.

The DLDF [Dramatists Legal Defense Fund] Defender Award, presented annually at the Dramatists Guild Awards [6 May 2024, presented at Sony Hall in New York City (West 46th Street, near Times Square)], is given in recognition of an individual, group, or organization’s efforts in support of free expression in the dramatic arts. For its 2024 award, the DLDF board named the students at Santa Rosa High School’s ArtQuest Theatre, who led a fight against the school’s attempt to shut down their production of Dog Sees God and then helped create a new theatrical work, [REDACTED], to comment on their experience; their drama teacher, Jereme Anglin; Brent Lindsay, artistic director of The Imaginists, who helped the students create [REDACTED]; and the Mercury Theater of Petaluma [22 miles south of Santa Rosa], for providing a new home for Dog Sees God after performances were suspended at the high school. On July 20, DLDF board member and Pulitzer Prize-winning dramatist Robert Schenkkan met with students Leila Paine and Dean Jahnsen, as well as Jereme and Brent, to discuss their experience.

[Santa Rosa High is in Santa Rosa, California. With a population as of the 2020 census of a little under 180,000, Santa Rosa’s the seat of Sonoma County, in the North Bay region of the San Francisco Bay Area. SRHS, founded in 1874, has a student body of just over 1,600.

[The ArtQuest program at SRHS was launched in 1994 to “provide an above and beyond experience for students who wish to concentrate on the [visual and performing] arts during their high school years and for whom creativity and artistic expression is of paramount importance.” It provides students with the skills to pursue conservatory, college, and professional paths.

[The Imaginists, a theater collective that has been part of Santa Rosa’s culture scene since 2002, is, according to its website, “an artist-run performing arts organization that explores the intersection of art and community, honoring the power of live performance as a vital space for questioning, dialogue, and invention. From original new works to community-based projects, education initiatives, site-specific works, and international collaborations, the Imaginists up-end convention, re-imagine public space, and cultivate radical inclusion as they continually re-think theater: who participates, where it happens, and what it is.”

[Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead is a 2004 written by Bert V. Royal. It’s an “unauthorized continuation” play that reimagines characters from the Charles M. Schulz comic strip Peanuts as degenerate teenagers. (It’s unauthorized and unapproved by the Schulz estate or United Features Syndicate.) Substance abuse, eating disorders, teen violence, rebellion, sexual relations and identity are among the issues covered in this parody.

[Dog Sees God was first presented in a reading on 3 May 2004 at the Barrow Street Theatre in New York City’s Greenwich Village. It had its world premiere at the 2004 New York International Fringe Festival (13-29 August 2024). It was presented Off-Off-Broadway at the SoHo Playhouse (in the Hudson Square section on western SoHo) from 13 August to 19 September 2004, produced by Sorrel Tomilinson/File 14 Productions.

[The play received its Off-Broadway premiere at the Century Center for the Performing Arts, running from 15 December 2005-20 February 2006. The production was directed by Trip Cullman; the set design was by David Korins; the costume design was by Jenny Mannis; the lighting design was by Brian MacDevitt; the sound design was by Darron L. West.

[Later productions were mounted in Los Angeles (2008 and 2024 for the play’s 20th anniversary); Manchester, U.K. (2009); and Toronto, Canada (2009), among other places.]

Jereme Anglin: My name is Jereme Anglin. I’m the theatre teacher at ArtQuest at Santa Rosa High School. Dean and Leila are my students, and Brent is a guest artist that we bring in every year to work with our students.

Brent Lindsay: I’m Brent Lindsay, and I work with the local theatre company here called The Imaginists. Every year, I go to ArtQuest, and we devise an original work together. 

Leila Paine: I’m Leila Paine. I just graduated from ArtQuest, and I was the vice president last year. 

Dean Jahnsen: I’m Dean Jahnsen. I just graduated from ArtQuest Theatre, and I was the president last year.

Robert Schenkkan: I’m Robert Schenkkan, Council member of the Dramatists Guild Council and the Dramatists Legal Defense Fund. I’d like you to set the stage for this story. November 2024. ArtQuest theatre program at Santa Rosa High School is performing a play and there is some controversy.

Dean Jahnsen: Yes. The play is called Dog Sees God [by Bert V. Royal]. It’s a spinoff to the Charles Schultz’s Peanuts, and it’s basically about them growing up and going through life as teenagers. The play was written in 2004, so it had a lot of pop culture moments from then, and it has a lot of drug use in it, and it uses certain slurs that are not accepted today.

Leila Paine: There are a lot of difficult topics that happen during high school. A lot of stuff with mental health, including suicide, drug use, alcohol abuse, things like that, and just overall bullying.

Robert Schenkkan: Leila, Dean, how was it you came to be doing this play?

Dean Jahnsen: At the beginning of last school year, Mr. Anglin brought four plays for us to choose from, and we gravitated toward two plays. Both of them had very real topics—the other one talked about sexual assault. Our entire class decided on Dog Sees God together. 

Leila Paine: We read the scripts for all four plays, and I think it was a week that we took discussing which one we wanted to do.

Robert Schenkkan: Sounds like the students are super involved at this theatre program.

Jereme Anglin: When the students began as freshmen, the content that they’re given is really selected by the teachers. Same thing as their sophomore year. They’re required to do some Shakespeare, some comedy of manners, and different topics that the teachers choose. But in their advanced years, I like to treat them like they’re a burgeoning theatre company. Students then take on leadership roles and have a say in what content they want to do. When they’re producing their shows, they oversee the budget and all that, so they really learn how to work as a theatre company.

Robert Schenkkan: Fantastic. Would you say there was anything unusual about the selection of this particular play for ArtsQuest?

Leila Paine: I feel like it was the usual. Honestly, it was more entertaining than other shows that we’ve done there.

Dean Jahnsen: Yeah. It just felt like another play.

Leila Paine: In level three, it’s a lot more college level material, but it’s also stuff that we enjoy and find important. That was why we chose Dog Sees God over the other shows, because we really connected with the topics that were in it, and we thought it was important to do, especially in a high school.

Dean Jahnsen: It really felt relevant to the times, and it was true to the high school experience.

Jereme Anglin: We’ve done The Laramie Project [(2000 verbatim play – blog ed.) by Moisés Kaufman and members of the Tectonic Theater Project] in that class. The Wolves [(2016 play – blog ed.) by Sarah DeLappe], She Kills Monsters [(2011 comedy-drama – blog ed.) by Qui Nguyen] . . . so Dog Sees God didn’t stand out to anyone as particularly provocative. [A different instance of the suppression of Nguyen’s play is recounted in “Censorship on School Stages,” referenced above.]

Robert Schenkkan: Which brings us to this rather extraordinary moment where suddenly the play is canceled. Were you informed whose decision this was, and what were the reasons given for the cancellation?

Jereme Anglin: We did our first performance on Thursday night [14 November 2024], and then Friday, before I had a chance to meet with the students again, I was pulled into the principal’s office, and there was someone from the superintendent’s office there who said that there had been one anonymous complaint from someone who was in the audience the night before, and that we were gonna need to cancel the play. 

Robert Schenkkan: Had this ever happened before in the history of your program?

Jereme Anglin: Not in recent times. I heard that in the ’80s they were performing Cabaret, and Cabaret was forced to close because of antisemitism, but it’s really unusual, I think. 

[Cabaret, the 1966 musical with music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb, and book by Joe Masteroff, was set in 1929-30, on the eve of the declaration of the Third Reich. (Adolf Hitler [1889-1945; Führer (leader) of the National Socialist German Workers' (Nazi) Party] was elected Chancellor [prime minister] of Germany on 30 January 1933.) The antisemitism in the musical was confined to the characters who were Nazis or Nazi-sympathizers—which was part of the point of the play and it sources, the 1951 play I Am a Camera by John Van Druten and the 1939 novel Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher Isherwood.

[The play has garnered numerous awards, including the 1967 Tony for Best Musical, 1967 New York Drama Critics’ Circle and Outer Critics Circle Awards for Besst Musical, 1998 Tony for Best Revival of a Musical, 1998 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Revival of a Musical, 1998 Drama League Award for Distinguished Production of a Revival, 1998 Outer Critics Circle Award for Outstanding Revival of a Musical, 2022 Laurence Olivier Award for Best Musical Revival, and many nominations.]

Robert Schenkkan: The complaint was anonymous.

Jereme Anglin: Yeah.

Robert Schenkkan: Were you ever given any more explanation of who voiced this complaint or what specifically they were upset about?

Dean Jahnsen: I believe the first time it was because of the language that was used, and then the other time it was sexual innuendos onstage.

Leila Paine: They kept changing it in every email or talk that we had with them. It was always something different. It’s like they couldn’t agree on one reason why it was canceled.

Jereme Anglin: I have a suspicion that the initial reaction was the vocabulary, the language, the slurs, and some of that content. But after the backlash from the community and all the support we got, I think the district then consulted with their legal team and found that the reasons they canceled the play were not actually something they could do. I think they slowly pivoted toward “protecting the audience members” versus, “is this something appropriate for our students to present?” Someone in the audience could sue the school because they were exposed to something they were not prepared for. And that could pose a legal threat somehow to the school district, if a student could say that they learned about something or were forced to confront something that they weren’t ready to do. 

Robert Schenkkan: Do you typically have content warnings on your play programs and on the publicity surrounding your productions?

Dean Jahnsen: In our morning announcements, we do content warnings. We have one outside the theatre and inside the theatre, and then also in our [preshow] speech. We started doing it on social media as well. 

Robert Schenkkan: So, suddenly, they’ve shut you down. How did you all respond?

Jereme Anglin: When I first found out, I was a little stunned and not sure what to do, but I just sat the class down in a circle and let them know what I had been informed of. At first, they thought I was joking, and then when they realized I was serious, they got upset. People were angry. Some were crying, but they quickly became motivated, and I’ll let them tell you what they did. They’re the ones who did it. 

Dean Jahnsen: I sat there, and I was like, “You’re lying,” and then I cried a little bit, and then I went outside, and I talked to my mom, just because I needed comfort. I noticed that, everywhere I looked, they were sad or they were angry. A group of students left the classroom and went around the school to talk to other teachers on what to do. I thought to contact our local newspaper, The Press Democrat [daily paper of Santa Rosa]. One of our fellow classmates contacted one of the editors. 

Robert Schenkkan: So, you went right to the press! That’s fascinating. And Leila, I gather that pretty quickly, you also pivoted to another production venue. Can you talk me through that?

Leila Paine: Right after it happened, we realized that we still wanted to try and find a way to put [the show] on. The class had all agreed—especially because the show was double cast, and because there was only one performance, only half of the class got to do the show. 

Dean Jahnsen: The cast was split up—the level three class is juniors and seniors, and the cast that went was mostly juniors, so the senior class didn’t get to perform at all. So, that was also devastating, because there isn’t a next year.

Leila Paine: My mom is involved in the theatre community in our town, and I was working at a theatre, so I was messaging her and my boss at the theatre company I work at. Mr. Anglin and the other theatre teacher at our school, Miss Cain, were contacting everyone we knew that had venues. Our treasurer has a connection at another theatre company and was contacting them, so we were all reaching out to find what place was available as soon as possible.

Jereme Anglin: A lot of theatre companies had something already built on their stage, so we were looking for an empty space that we could just jump into, and [we] finally found one in the neighboring town, Petaluma. A little theatre company called Mercury Theater said that they had space, and we could go down there and set up. So, the next morning, we all met at the high school, loaded up our vehicles, and spent the entire day at the theatre. I was rebuilding the set and setting things up while the students took over restaging it themselves on the stage. We were multitasking to try to and get it open that same night.

Robert Schenkkan: The students restaged the play themselves. Is that an unusual activity for them? Typically, would you be doing the staging?

Dean Jahnsen: The students will stage it, and then Mr. Anglin will review it and make sure it works for every perspective in the audience. But at that point, we didn’t have time [for that]. But we did it, and honestly, I think the staging was better than it was before.

Robert Schenkkan: It’s so interesting how you took this moment for grief, and rage, and confusion, and then you very, very quickly pivoted to action. So, you have found another theatre, the Mercury Theater. You moved in. You’ve restaged the play, and you did a single performance there, two performances?

Dean Jahnsen: We did two: one earlier in the evening and one later. It was, like, an eighteen-hour day, nonstop. It was crazy.

[The SRHS students did their two Petaluma performances on Saturday, 16 November 2024. The small Mercury Theatre, provided by the resident troupe free of charge, was sold out for both shows, totaling an audience of 240 theatergoers and raising $3,500 for the ArtQuest program. All box-office receipts went to ArtQuest. Outside the theater was a hand-lettered sign that read: “censorship kills creativity.]

Leila Paine: Then we got together at one of our classmates’ houses to relax and talk about what was going on, and we all made signs about censorship, and we hung them outside of the theatre where we performed.

Dean Jahnsen: That was the night the article got posted, and our entire community really got involved. We were just reflecting on everyone’s support, and that was the big moment where our class bonded. 

Jereme Anglin: The students were also very active on social media, posting on various platforms, and contacted the playwright, Bert V. Royal. He got on board to support us, so there was a huge avalanche of support and positive things that came out. 

Dean Jahnsen: [There were] theatre departments from all over the Bay Area contacting us, [asking] if we wanted to come to them. It was so overwhelming, but it was so cool to see.

Leila Paine: It felt like it came out of nowhere. Initially, when we got shut down, our entire class felt alone in what had happened. We were like, “There’s nothing we can do about this,” but we found, as we kept pushing and trying harder instead of giving up, that there are lots of people in our community and outside of our community that actually care about what happened. It was strange to see that happen, that it’s not just something small that’s happening to us.

Robert Schenkkan: You were surprised by the response?

Leila Paine:  Yeah.

Dean Jahnsen: Yes.

Robert Schenkkan: This is really extraordinary. And there are lessons here, for artists everywhere, professional and nonprofessional. You did not allow yourselves to be shut down. You did not shrink away in shame. In fact, you stepped up and embraced the issue, embraced the controversy. Publicity became your friend.

As a result, there’s a greater sense of ownership by the students. You have expanded a play which already dealt with serious and potent topics into an examination of censorship and the importance of speaking out against censorship. Extraordinary. But my understanding is you didn’t stop there. After Dog Sees God closed, you traditionally begin a new project with another local theatre company, The Imaginists. What have you previously done with The Imaginists, and how was this collaboration different?

Leila Paine: Well, initially, the process started the same. Every year, Brent comes in, and we usually start [brainstorming] around the same time that we’re rehearsing our fall show. 

We did that in about September/October, and then we’d take a break for a little bit when we’re doing our fall show, but then as soon as the show closes, we jump right into rehearsals for what we’re bringing to Lenaea [High School Theatre Festival]. This year, I think we started a little bit earlier, and we started talking about censorship before everything even happened, how the arts seemed to be almost dying a little bit. That was an idea that we were playing with going into it, and we had a rough draft of the script that Brent had created. After everything with Dog Sees God happened, we jumped straight into making [REDACTED]

[According to its own website:

“The Lenaea High School Theatre Festival is an annual three-day celebration of creativity and talent, bringing together high school theatre students from across the West Coast. This dynamic event invites students to perform, receive personalized feedback from professional theatre artists, and explore their craft through hands-on workshops in every corner of the theatre world. 

“Founded in 1956 and inspired by the ancient Greek Lenaea festivals, Lenaea began as an initiative of Sacramento State College (now [California State University,] Sacramento) to nurture and elevate high school theatre programs. Since becoming an independent nonprofit in 2012, Lenaea has found its home at the Harris Center for the Arts at Folsom Lake College.”

[Folsom Lake College (FLC) is a public community college in Folsom, California. It’s part of the California Community Colleges system.

[The Lenaia (preferred spelling; cf. ancient Greek: Λήναια) was an annual Athenian festival with a dramatic competition. It was one of the lesser festivals of Athens and Ionia in ancient Greece. The Lenaia took place in Athens in Gamelion, roughly corresponding to January. Beginning in the second half of the 5th century BCE, plays were performed at the Lenaia festival, whose origins reach back into the pre-classical era, and contests of some sort continued into the 2nd century BCE, though it’s unknown when the festival was finally abandoned.

[The Lenaia festival was in honor of Dionysus Lenaios (“Dionysus of the Wine-Press”; the sobriquet “Lenaios” likely derives from the Greek word lenos, meaning ‘wine-press,’ though another possible origin is from lenai, another name for the Maenads, the female worshippers of Dionysus). Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, theater, and revelry, among other things, was known to the Romans as Bacchus.]

Dean Jahnsen: Every year, it’s a relevant theme of what’s going on in the world, and every year, it always has a message. The year before, when we were juniors, it discussed the toxicities of social media [Dreamletting, 25-26 January 2024], but then this year, I remember talking about Moms for Liberty [political organization founded in 2021 that advocates against school curricula that mention LGBTQ rights, race and ethnicity, critical race theory, and discrimination], their censorship and their influence. And this seeped into when we were writing [REDACTED], how people have influence on the school board, how the school board affects our every day.

Brent Lindsay: At one of the first meetings, someone brought up theatre and how it is basically either under attack, or it is not finding its enrollment. The COVID blip is real. We see theatre and other art forms struggling. I think this came up early in the conversation, so it wasn’t necessarily about censorship, but censorship, of course, became a very convenient way for us to “find our villain.”

The early drafts, I was playing with One Thousand and One Nights [presumably the collection of Middle Eastern folktales, often known in English as The Arabian Nights, compiled in the Arabic language from as early as the 8th century CE]. We present this show at the Lenaea Festival [6-8 February 2025], so this was a way for us to take something that was going to celebrate the art form, theatre, but also be a little bit cheeky—a satire about a theatre company going to a festival and the antagonist being Mommies Against the Arts. So, we were taking those components, and it was rather messy in the beginning. Then Dog Sees God happened in the middle of this process, and I must say it wasn’t just the cancellation; it was then these meetings that came thereafter in the next two months where I had to be in the room—from the principal to the district to the superintendent. Every one of these meetings, I was taking mad notes, and the show was changing and evolving. Between Jereme and the students and me, it was like, “We could write all this into the material.” 

So, it wasn’t just becoming satire. It was very close to home, and quite dangerous.

Robert Schenkkan: When you say, “Quite dangerous,” what do you mean?

Brent Lindsay: Well, I mean, because the other side of this story that, as soon as Dog Sees God was canceled and they moved it to the Mercury Theater, I think it was the next day that the school board had received enough pressure that they allowed the play to continue, and at that point, it was already too late. Am I getting that right? 

[The board reversed the cancellation on 16 November 2024, the day the ArtQuest troupe had scheduled and prepared for their off-campus performances.  The reversal of the decision to terminate the production was accompanied by the imposition of new restrictions, including script approval for future presentations and age limits for shows with “adult themes.”]

Dean Jahnsen: Yeah. 

Brent Lindsay: The students and [their] social media blasts, they were ferocious. The testimonials were beautiful. I mean, every screen in our community, especially the theatre community, was just blasted, so it was very easy for us to turn to our school board, the superintendent, the principal, everybody, and say, “What the hell’s going on?” 

I think that that kind of community support created a situation where they found themselves in a place where it was very uncomfortable. They step back, and then they have these meetings with the students, which I gotta say all seemed ridiculous. They wanted to save face. They wanted to play the victim, and they were putting it on these guys as if they were the antagonists, that they were actually on the offense. 

So, what I mean by “dangerous” is we got to take all that information in quite some detail and write it into the script. So, if school board members or superintendents came to see the play, they saw themselves. There was no question, not by name, but they knew exactly who we were talking about. 

Robert Schenkkan: I wish I could say I felt adept at social media. Could you school me for a minute here, Leila and Dean, on your social media work throughout the experience? What was your focus? How was it organized? 

Dean Jahnsen: It started with us calling The Press Democrat, our local paper, and that story being written, and everyone started reposting. And there would be updates on the article because we kept in contact with the writer. People were constantly refreshing and reading what’s happening, and it was just repost after repost. I remember looking at that post and looking at the other ones that The Press Democrat put out, and it had like, 5,000 likes, 20,000 views, where the other ones were like, 30 and twenty. 

Leila Paine: And then some of our classmates posted the email addresses of the administrators who were in charge of what had happened, explaining what the actual issue was from our point of view—like, if you’re against this, please contact these people.

Dean Jahnsen: We used our company’s Instagram and Facebook, and also word of mouth. It just spread like wildfire. 

Robert Schenkkan: Fantastic. So, I gather the new play you created with the Imaginists was kind of a story within a story that reflected what you had actually just lived through. Could you give our audience a quick explanation of the plot of this new play?

Brent Lindsay: I think that it boils down to a class bringing scenes and monologues to a festival, and you’re always doing your pieces for a group of respondents. It can be one respondent looking at the playwright’s submissions, two respondents or three looking at scenes or monologues. So, this play starts with one student before a group of respondents, and all of a sudden, it becomes apparent that one of the respondents is one of these Mommies Against the Arts. 

It’s all about, then, how do we kill the arts by way of killing, literally killing these students? So, it becomes this high satire of the students being at risk of death from Mommies Against the Arts. And, à la One Thousand and One Nights, one student steps forward and says, “I wanna do my scene,” and that becomes a scene within a scene within a scene and keeps them all living until she can get to the final scene, basically surrounding all the Mommies for the Arts and threatening to tear them all apart and beheading them and all that. 

Then all the lights come on. That same student steps forward and says, “Hey, relax. It’s just theatre,” and then it’s a blackout. 

Robert Schenkkan: Wonderful. And I understand you went on to win a bucketload of awards at this statewide festival?

Jereme Anglin: Yeah. That came as a shock. We always bring original work there, because of the nature of our ArtQuest program. Our students have a lot of training, and we tend to do pretty well at the festival. We have, I think, a bit of a reputation and respect from other schools and other programs, but this year, we really were surprised at how much they had heard about what we have been going through and how much they liked the [REDACTED] script. The big award that they gave at the end is called the Bob Smart Award. He’s a theatre teacher who created the Lenaea Festival many, many years ago, and they created this award in his honor, to go to an individual or individuals who have undergone some significant struggle in bringing pieces of theatre to the festival, and so last year, we were given that award.

[Bob Smart (life dates unknown) was a professor at Sacramento State College (now CSU Sacramento) who guided many students into professional theater careers. The original idea for a high school drama festival at Sacramento State was initiated in 1955, but by the next year, Smart became a central figure in its operation and enduring legacy.

[Smart retired from Sacramento State College in 1998 and it’s likely his active participation in the Lenaea High School Theatre Festival ended then. The festival probably initiated the prestigious Bob Smart Spirit of Lenaea High School Theatre Festival Award, its highest honor, at that time as a memorial to Smart.  It recognizes individuals or groups who embody the festival’s values, particularly for things like fighting censorship and promoting the spirit of theater.]

Robert Schenkkan: Congratulations! And finally, as a sort of postscript to this whole extraordinary event, I understand that the superintendent who initially censored this production was fired. Is that correct?

Jereme Anglin: Yes.

Dean Jahnsen: The entire school board has been going through a lot of fire recently because of consolidation efforts, and she was let go at the end of last year.

Jereme Anglin: I think it was after a series of bad decisions, and then the community just feeling that the superintendent didn’t really mesh well with our community, with our program.

Dean Jahnsen: And our beliefs.

Robert Schenkkan: Very clearly not. We live in a very challenging moment right now. The arts are definitely under assault. Censorship is a very real issue. Leila and Dean, as you look back on it now, what are the lessons that you took away from this experience which you think might be meaningful to other artists?

Leila Paine: I think that the biggest thing that came out of it, at least for me, is that instead of being passive and letting it happen and accepting it, we took all the emotions and anger, what we had gone through, and we worked with Brent and turned it into art. Instead of just letting it happen, we took our experiences and made something greater. And then also the fact that, as artists, you’re not alone. There are so many more people out there who support the arts than you think there are. So, just because you have one person telling you, “No,” or a group of people telling you what you’re doing isn’t okay, that it’s not right, [that] doesn’t mean that they’re right, and doesn’t mean you have to listen to them. 

Dean Jahnsen: What I noticed is that I didn’t really see a lot of support from the younger generation when it first happened, but when I got to Lenaea and noticed everyone supporting us, it really showed me that the young generation is out there to support and defend the arts, especially in the political climate we are in. 

Robert Schenkkan: Jereme, Brent, did you have anything you wanted to add to that?

Brent Lindsay: Hearing Leila and Dean talk about it, I’m reminded that when we performed [REDACTED] at the school, when we had school board members, or assistant superintendents, or even the principal or vice principal come and sit and watch that piece, oftentimes what happened at the end is the whole black box would leap to its feet uproariously. And the one person sitting would be that school board member, isolated, alone, and I think it was just as shocking to me to see that story play out, to see how lonely it was to be that person who is trying to achieve some sort of power that was rejected by the community. And I think that that’s where art lives. When art finds its feet and its power, that’s what could happen, and this show, like no other that I’ve done with the students, absolutely reflected that. 

Robert Schenkkan: This is such an inspiring story, and I want to thank you for sharing it with the Guild. And I wish you all the very best in your future endeavors!

Dean Jahnsen: Thank you very much. 

Leila Paine: Thank you so much.

[Santa Rosa High School's ArtQuest Theatre program premièred the original one-act musical entitled [REDACTED], a piece exploring censorship, on 23 and 24 January 2025 in the school’s Black Box Theatre.  The performance featured scenes, songs, and designs created by the students in collaboration with The Imaginists. 

[The one-act play mocked the topic of censorship itself, and featured student monologues, scenes, and songs addressing mature themes such as suicide and sexual assault.  The play touches on canceling plays and burning books and the fictional pro-censorship advocates, Mommies Against the Arts, chanted, “Protecting kiddies is our duty! / We cancel anything that smells a little fruity!”

[The SRHS production of [REDACTED] was performed at the 2025 Lenaea High School Theatre Festival from 6-8 February 2025 at the Harris Center for the Arts at Folsom Lake College in Folsom, California (119 miles east-northeast of Santa Rosa; 23 miles east-northeast of Sacramento).  The SRHS ArtQuest Theatre production of [REDACTED] won several top honors at the theatre festival, including the Bob Smart Spirit of Lenaea Award and the Gold Medal for One-Act Play Production, two of the festival's highest awards, and 12 additional individual and group awards across various categories.

[According to KQED, the National Public Radio outlet in Santa Rosa, Lenaea Festival Board Director Cheena Moslen said upon giving the [REDACTED] company the Spirit Award:

This group refused to be silenced.  They mobilized their community, pushed back against censorship driven by fear, and ultimately staged their production, selling out performances.  But that hurdle seems to be the beginning of a larger issue of silencing and oppression.

My experience with this school reminded me that we are not just performers—we are powerful, and our voices matter.

[(Besides being Board Chairman of Lenaea, Moslen taught secondary-school English and theater for 25 years, performs as a Filipinx American storyteller, and is an educational equity coach.)

[Robert Schenkkan is a Pulitzer Prize, Tony, WGA, and Humanitas Award winner and three-time Emmy nominated writer.  Author of twenty plays including: All the Way (2012; Broadway: 2014), The Great Society (2014; Broadway: 2019), The Kentucky Cycle (1991; Pulitzer Prize: 1992; Broadway: 1993), Building the Wall (2017; Off-Broadway: 2017), and Old Cock (2024 [world premiere, Porto, Portugal]; U.S. premiere: 2025 [Off-Off-Broadway, New York City]).  Upcoming: ReCON$ruXion at Alabama Shakespeare Festival (April 2026) and Motion/CAPTURE with Lisbon’s Mala Voadora company (workshop in Alentejo, Portugal: February 2026). Member of DG Council, DLDF, Orchard Project, NTC, and New Dramatists Alumnus.

[Jereme Anglin is an actor, director, and educator whose career has taken him from the streets of Paris to the stages of both U.S. coasts.  A proud member of Actors’ Equity Association and a devoted practitioner of the Suzuki Method of actor training, Anglin taught for a decade on the East Coast before joining ArtQuest, where he champions rigorous, imaginative, and physically dynamic performances.

[Brent Lindsay, proud member of the Osage Nation, creates contemporary performances that intentionally upset assumptions and expectations, honoring the power of live performance as a vital community space for reinvention.  Brent is a writer, director, actor, and founding Artistic Director of the Imaginists, a regionally and nationally recognized artist-run theatre based in Santa Rosa, CA. 

[Dean Jahnsen (SRHS Class of ’25) is a freshman at the University of California, Davis, where he’s studying Political Science and Art History.  He’s passionate about protecting artistic freedom and fighting censorship. Dean was president of the ArtQuest Theatre company, where he played a major role as a student activist in defending his program.  He continues to advocate for the arts in the Bay Area. 

[Leila Paine (SRHS Class of ’25) is an incoming freshman at Cornish College of the Arts [since 2025, the arts school of Seattle University, a private Jesuit university in Seattle, Washington] and is majoring in Acting and Original Works.  She was the vice president of ArtQuest Theater at Santa Rosa High School, where she found her passion for the arts.  She plans to continue fighting against censorship and fighting for equality.]