"I feel that there's too much careerism and not enough just plain old American entrepeneurs on the level of what what we did in the early seventies, which is let's get some money and do our own production with our own group of actors and try and get people to see it. Let's do our own work."
Two years ago I had the unique experience of witnessing the rehearsal process of JoAnne Akalaitis and Philip Glass's rendition of The Bacchae for The Public Theater, when they were in residency at Stanford in 2007 developing an early workshop of the production (produced in Central Park in the 2009 Shakespeare in the Park season). At the time, one of my responsibilities was to keep a blog, and I found myself inspired day to day by JoAnne's little bits of wisdom as they played into rehearsal. She is a controversial person in the theatre world, and while I don't necessarily agree with her artistic choices (as regards the Bacchae, which was the only production of hers I've seen) I have a lot of respect for the woman's incredible knowledge and wisdom.
Today I was listening to an interview with JoAnne (which I will post a link to when it's available at American Theatre Wing in a few weeks) and I found myself writing "OH MY GOSH JOANNE AKALAITIS YOU SPEAK SO MUCH TRUTH" [sic]. This was in particular regard to what it means to enter the world of directing today. She states that there is too much "careerism", with directors vying for a coveted assistant director role or directing internship, when really they should get out and find some money and put on shows. She points out that even programs directed at emerging artists (such as TCG's new generations grants) are now taking people well into their careers. I felt like the last year of my life was being quoted back at me: from applying to these programs that seemed to apply to me as a young director and yet the other (successful) applicants were 5-10 years older than me to starting a theatre company to do the theatre I really want to do because that is my goal in this city. Rather than find someone else's network to be a part of, I want to create my own. And I am interested in the establishment of some sort of network for these young artists. The closest I've found is the New York Network (American Associates) of the Old Vic New Voices Network, which is aimed at artists aged 21-30, but I can't figure out how to be a part of that. I'm going to an event of theirs on Tuesday, so I am looking forward to learning more about them at that point. Even the existence of this network shows that Europeans are immensely more successful at supporting their young artists, and specifically their young directors. Last year I discovered INSTED (http://www.insted.eu/) - a European network specifically designed for young directors. I thought I was interested in establishing something like that, but honestly I am more interested in bringing a whole community of young artists together, because as again JoAnne Akalaitis points out, what good are directors just talking to each other? We have to do theatre and we have to see theatre, and then we can talk about it.
One of the things that I'm trying to change through my personal relationships with writers is the establishment that picks up young talented writers and hands them experienced directors. While that may be great for the writer, sometimes it is stifling to have the strong hand of a director who has been around the block in the development of one's play. Obviously one of the things it requires is a director who is good with new work. But who's to say that only proven directors are good with new work? Couldn't an even stronger collaboration come out of a new playwright paired with a new director, who can bring their own fresh perspectives to the theatre? I believe that that would enable theatre to move forward, rather than being recreated in its own image, as we so often see new plays turn into when helmed by the profession's masters. I am not out to change theatre into a multimedia circus extravaganza. I like theatre as it is, (to quote JoAnne): "live, communal art", which is about "the engagement between what is happening onstage and the audience". I want to sit with a playwright who I've shared the same 23 years of life with and talk about all of the wonderful things that excite me about the piece and what I imagine onstage, how it relates to my own world and to theirs, to politics and religion, to science and family. I believe in new play development from the bottom of my heart. I love what the Lark does, what the Kennedy Center does, what Playwrights Foundation and The Public and Arena Stage do. But it pains me to see the wonderful playwrights of my world be swept away from me by the machine, and the machine gives me no way to get involved.
It is my goal this year to meet those playwrights. I want to be part of the new play movement NOW. Not in 2020. And hopefully as that evolves I will establish an entire community of young artists (which I will grow out of and will hopefully continue without me), who, rather than applying for the elusive internship or settling for a less active pursuit of their directing goals, will have each other to draw on, to support, and to create theater with.
Thank you JoAnne for your inspiration, then and now.
1 2 3 Shakespeare. Oops. I mean Go.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
New Years Resolution: Write More.
“Don’t answer the question they’re asking. Answer the question beneath the question. The equivalent question.” - Father Garnet, Equivocation (Bill Cain)
If you are guarding the king's door and someone arrives to kill the king and asks if the king is within, do you say no and lie, or say yes and let the king die? Do you perform the truthful play and get executed for treason, or do you perform the false play and allow people to believe its lies? This is the dilemma at the heart of Bill Cain's Equivocation, now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club, directed by Garry Hynes (who won the Joe A. Callaway Award for Excellence in Directing for The Cripple Of Inishmann in 2009).
Somewhere in the play there were a couple of lines that I wish I could rewind and listen to about finding the truth of the story in one's play. Telling the facts (or the facts one is given) but in such a way that it reveals the truth. At a Roundtable reading I attended at Lark on Thursday, there was a fascinating discussion of truth vs. history. The playwright needed to stay true to history in order to ensure her play was well-received by the Dominicans, whose history it regards. But the actors felt that the drama was in the (fictionalized) relationships of the man with the people around him, and the potential encounters he might have had, rather than the ones he did have. How does one stay true to history and still have an interesting play? History is only so dramatic... the facts of the way things happen isn't nearly as fascinating as the way things could have happened. The drama of a dictator whose power is taken away from him, stripped of history, is an incredible story... and yet Trujillo, to whom it actually happened, is interesting as well, particularly because his story is a part of history that the average theatregoer has never heard before. But if we've never heard it before, then what does it matter if the details are accurate? Because the Dominicans, who have the ability to effectively blackball the play and the playwright from their culture and history (which she spent years proving she was worthy of), care about the details. What an incredible dilemma.
In fact, it's the dilemma in Equivocation. The Dominican community effectively commissioned the play, as Robert Cecil commissioned Shakespeare (or Shagspeare, as he is known in the play) to write the king's version of the gunpowder plot. The playwright is faced with writing a truthful story, which may deviate from the facts at hand but tells a compelling, interesting story, or writing to the letter of the Dominican history. Ultimately, the playwright will have to equivocate in order to write the play that will feel truthful within the factual historical context.
And the fact that I have learned about an entire country's history about which I knew nothing, went on a wonderful fictional journey combining Shakespeare and my birthsake holiday, and can tie the last two plays I saw so intimately together... is why I chose this life.
Happy Valentine's Day!
If you are guarding the king's door and someone arrives to kill the king and asks if the king is within, do you say no and lie, or say yes and let the king die? Do you perform the truthful play and get executed for treason, or do you perform the false play and allow people to believe its lies? This is the dilemma at the heart of Bill Cain's Equivocation, now in previews at Manhattan Theatre Club, directed by Garry Hynes (who won the Joe A. Callaway Award for Excellence in Directing for The Cripple Of Inishmann in 2009).
Somewhere in the play there were a couple of lines that I wish I could rewind and listen to about finding the truth of the story in one's play. Telling the facts (or the facts one is given) but in such a way that it reveals the truth. At a Roundtable reading I attended at Lark on Thursday, there was a fascinating discussion of truth vs. history. The playwright needed to stay true to history in order to ensure her play was well-received by the Dominicans, whose history it regards. But the actors felt that the drama was in the (fictionalized) relationships of the man with the people around him, and the potential encounters he might have had, rather than the ones he did have. How does one stay true to history and still have an interesting play? History is only so dramatic... the facts of the way things happen isn't nearly as fascinating as the way things could have happened. The drama of a dictator whose power is taken away from him, stripped of history, is an incredible story... and yet Trujillo, to whom it actually happened, is interesting as well, particularly because his story is a part of history that the average theatregoer has never heard before. But if we've never heard it before, then what does it matter if the details are accurate? Because the Dominicans, who have the ability to effectively blackball the play and the playwright from their culture and history (which she spent years proving she was worthy of), care about the details. What an incredible dilemma.
In fact, it's the dilemma in Equivocation. The Dominican community effectively commissioned the play, as Robert Cecil commissioned Shakespeare (or Shagspeare, as he is known in the play) to write the king's version of the gunpowder plot. The playwright is faced with writing a truthful story, which may deviate from the facts at hand but tells a compelling, interesting story, or writing to the letter of the Dominican history. Ultimately, the playwright will have to equivocate in order to write the play that will feel truthful within the factual historical context.
And the fact that I have learned about an entire country's history about which I knew nothing, went on a wonderful fictional journey combining Shakespeare and my birthsake holiday, and can tie the last two plays I saw so intimately together... is why I chose this life.
Happy Valentine's Day!
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