The Rise and Fall of Theatre

From silent films to AI, every shift pushed theatre down—but it keeps rising back.

For those who’d rather listen.

World Theatre Day • March 27

There was a time when theatre was not a choice.

It was where people went to feel something. Stories were performed live, right in front of you. No screens. No pause. Just people, light, and a story happening in real time.

Then came the first fall.

In the 1920s, silent films filled cinemas. They reached more people, more easily, and at a lower cost. Theatre was still there, but it was no longer the center.

Then the drop deepened.

By the late 1920s, sound entered film. Talkies gave audiences voices, music, and dialogue on screen. Cinema felt complete. Theatre now had a stronger rival.

Then it rose again.

From the 1940s to the early 1950s, musicals brought life back to the stage. Oklahoma! (1943), West Side Story (1957), and The Sound of Music (1959) made theatre feel alive again. It became something people chose to experience.

Then another fall began.

By the mid-1950s, television entered the home. Entertainment no longer required going out.

By the 1960s and 1970s, color television made staying home even more appealing. Theatre lost more of its everyday audience.

Then came the quiet squeeze.

From the late 1970s into the 1990s, home media took over. Betamax and VHS allowed people to watch anytime. LaserDisc improved quality. Then CDs and DVDs made access easier. Entertainment was no longer scheduled. It was owned.

Going out became optional.

Even as this shift was happening, theatre found another way to rise.

In the 1980s, it adapted. It went bigger. Cats (1981), Les Misérables (1980), and The Phantom of the Opera (1986) turned the stage into a full experience. Theatre became an event.

Then it leveled out.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, theatre expanded globally. Touring productions reached new audiences. It was no longer the default, but it stayed alive by moving.

Then another shift.

In 2007, Netflix introduced streaming. By the mid-2010s, binge-watching became normal. By the late 2010s, multiple platforms made content endless and always available.

Staying home was no longer just easy.

For many, it felt better.

Then another rise.

In 2015, Hamilton brought new energy. It reached a younger audience and made theatre feel current again.

Then the sharpest fall.

In 2020, the pandemic closed theatres. Stages went dark across the world. For a time, theatre did not just struggle—it stopped.

And now?

It is rising again. But differently.

The audience is smaller, but more intentional. People no longer watch everything. They choose what is worth leaving the house for.

In the age of artificial intelligence, content became faster and more refined. Yet theatre remains unchanged—live, imperfect, and unrepeatable.

It cannot be replayed. It cannot be edited. It happens once, and then it is gone.

That is why it fell behind.

And that is why it keeps rising back.

Because as long as people still look for something real—the stage will never stay empty.

YouTube player
A video exploring the significance of theatre and drama in Ancient Greek culture and its influence on society.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Shaping the Ensemble • Darem Placer

The Spotify Boycott—When Music Stops Being Just Music

The boycott isn’t about money—it’s about conscience, identity, and what music is supposed to stand for.

It’s no longer just about songs. The Spotify boycott is a mirror—showing what happens when music turns into a product instead of a pulse.

For years, Spotify sold us the dream: every song, anytime, anywhere. Freedom daw. But freedom built on exploitation isn’t freedom—it’s business in disguise. And now, people are finally seeing through the noise.

The Real Issue

This isn’t only about low artist pay. It’s about what Spotify stands for. When reports came out that their CEO invested in military AI tech—people felt something crack. You don’t make peace through war machines, and you don’t fund destruction with the art that heals people.

Add to that the playlists built by algorithms, fake artists filling streams, and creators earning crumbs while executives buy new yachts. Music used to move hearts. Now it moves stock prices.

Why Artists Are Fighting Back

Musicians aren’t just being dramatic. They’re defending something sacred—meaning. You pour your soul into sound, but your song becomes part of a system that barely knows your name.

And when that system starts aligning with weapons and warfare, it stops being about music altogether. That’s why the boycott matters. It’s a protest not just for fairness, but for conscience.

What This Means for Listeners

Every stream is a vote. Every playlist is a small piece of power. Maybe it’s time to listen with purpose. Maybe it’s time to care where your songs live.

Platforms like Bandcamp or direct support models might not have the same convenience, but at least they remember that artists are humans, not background noise for your commute.

My Take

Uninstall Spotify. Boycott Spotify.

This isn’t about hating a platform—it’s about standing for what music really means. The future of sound shouldn’t belong to people who treat it like code. If they build empires from our songs while investing in war, that’s not music anymore—that’s hypocrisy on repeat.

Music was born from silence, not algorithms. It breathes, bleeds, and believes. And maybe this boycott is the first note of a new tune—the kind that reminds the world what music’s soul truly sounds like.

UNINSTALL SPOTIFY. BOYCOTT SPOTIFY.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ