The breathtakingly sudden appearance of Robert Brustein, dean of the Yale School of Drama, as the potential successor to Robert Chapman as director of the Loeb, has been heralded in almost apocalyptic terms. The Crimson editorial on "The Brustein Affair" suggested that, with the advent of Brustein, the "Loeb blahs of the past few decades" were at last to be eradicated, that academic and professional drama throughout the Boston area would be revitalised "in a big way."

No one can dispute the impressive scholarly and professional qualifications of Robert Brustein. His writings have had a tremendous impact on American theater. Under his guidance, the Yale Repertory Company has been vibrant and innovative. The Yale School of Drama has established itself at the forefront of American theater training. On the surface, Brustein appears to have every credential to serve an apocalyptic function, to act as a White Knight who can ride in and take Cambridge by storm.

From the administration's point of view, Brustein is an ideal candidate. When he came to Harvard to announce that he was available, Brustein offered to fill a post that had to be filled by the end of this academic year. His appointment would save the administration from the complicated problems of conducting a lengthy, affirmative-action search. He would bring with him a great deal of practical experience. He would also bring with him that essential Harvard commodity: prestige. For Harvard to capture Brustein directly from Yale would be a major coup.

The clincher for Brustein's wooing of the Harvard administration was his promise to bring to Cambridge the famous Yale Repertory Company. Brustein can't promise to import the whole operation to the Loeb. He may simply set up another company. In any case, he has promised that it wouldn't cost Harvard a ce Brustein believes that he can raise the entire operating budget for the company through foundation grants and private donations. For Dean Rosovsky, struggling to balance his FAS budget, Brustein's offer must have been irresistible.

From an administration perspective, the prospect of a prestigious Harvard Repertory Company is the crowning glory of Brustein's proposal. He might be a wonderful Harvard acquisition, but his company promises to be a serious problem for undergraduate theater. While the vision of Brustein as a white knight who will save Harvard theater from the "blahs" is naively optimistic, that optimism is harmless enough. It is more dangerous to gloss over the very significant problems that will result from the imposition of a professional company in an undergraduate facility.

The Crimson itself acknowledged that there are "risks" in accepting Brustein's plan, but it chose to downplay those risks. It seems that those students who hail Brustein's appointment as a major achievement are basing their optimism on two very tenuous assumptions.

First, there is an assumption that although Brustein has displayed previously almost no interest in undergraduate theater, he will be transformed into a crusader for undergraduate rights when he arrives at Harvard. In fact, Brustein has expressed very negative views of undergraduate theater in such forums as The Yale Alumni News. Yet, The Crimson blithely stated that "if anyone can champion the cause of theater at Harvard, and open the doors for future recognition of the performing arts (and maybe no one can) it is Robert Brustein."

There is absolutely no reason to believe that Brustein is seriously committed to upgrading the academic status of Harvard theater. In an interview last month, Brustein stated that he was ambivalent about credit theater courses, suggesting that committed students will work best when they are taking an extracurricular course. Later, he said that he was open to the idea of credit courses if students seemed to want them. Such ambivalence does not a "champion" make.

Moreover, he has committed himself to raising very substantial private funding for the company. Foundation grants are almost always awarded on a yearly basis. Every year Brustein will have to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars just to keep the rep afloat. There is serious doubt that Brustein would have time to crusade for undergraduate credit courses, even it it could be proved that he had any such desire.

By far the most dangerous assumption of those who back the Brustein plan is their bland assurance that the presence of a repertory company will expand theater participation at Harvard. The Crimson suggested that Brustein and the rep would "attract more talented and committed students interested in theater." Under Brustein's plan the number of Harvard Dramatic Club shows will be cut from seven to four a year. Admittedly, a few select undergraduates will be able to work in rep company shows, but participation will be limited to those students who have taken courses offered by members of the company. There is every reason to believe that those courses will continue to be non-credit.

While it is completely understandable that Brustein would allow only trained actors to work with the rep, it is essential to realize that very few students will be able to take rep company classes, rehearse a rep show and follow a serious academic program. It would be almost impossible to do any other extracurricular activity. It is likely that only people who are essentially disinterested in academics will be able to work with the repertory company at the Loeb. Only pre-professional dramaphiles will be able to rationalize the necessary time commitment. The Loeb will become, even more than now, a sanctuary for the intense aspiring star.

There are undoubtedly people who believe that improving the quality of Loeb theater is worth the de facto abandonment of the amateur principle. These people will argue that students who are not "serious" about theater, students who are not pre-professional, can always act, direct and do tech work on House shows. It is ironic that the majority of Harvard students should have to return to the situation that existed before the Loeb was built, doing shows in terribly limiting and uninspiring facilities. The Loeb was planned because there was an obvious need for a well-equipped undergraduate acting facility at Harvard. That need still exists.

It seems almost certain that Robert Brustein will come to the Loeb. He offers the administration an easy answer to a difficult question: How can the Loeb be improved? Brustein is the only person who seems to have thought seriously about the problem. He has presented the administration with a tempting plan. He can almost guarantee that the quality of the theater done at the Loeb will improve under his auspices with the help of the rep company.

But Brustein fails to realize that there will be many losers. The House drama societies and college-wide amateur companies such as the Gilbert and Sullivan Players will have difficulty using the Loeb technical facilities. More significantly, all those students who want to do theater but who reject the excesses of theatrical pre-professionalism may be frozen out of Loeb opportunities.

It would have been reassuring to know that the administration had investigated these problems in order to protect undergraduates as fully as possible. Instead, the administration has been swept along by Brustein's bold plan. As usual, the administration has been all too eager to pay obeisance to the "big name." As a result, a very important educational decision, affecting literally hundreds of undergraduates will be made with only one option having been presented.

The basic problem with Loeb theater, its stultifying inbrededness, has not been broached. Brustein's proposal is likely to exacerbate the cliquishness that turns so many students away from the Loeb. Only be being acutely aware of the serious threat to broad participation posed by Brustein's plan can undergraduates protect themselves where the administration has failed.

Stephen J. Toope '79 is a History and Literature concentrator who has performed in numerous Loeb productions.