Reflection #5: On Stanford

I'm going to spill some thoughts that I hope to eventually turn into an open letter to the Drama Department at Stanford. Right now it's very scattered, but I need to put it to paper the internet to begin to gather and organize my thoughts.

This is inspired by the recent discoveries of Stanford grads, most with their Bachelor of Arts in Drama like me, making their way in theatre in New York City. For instance, Anne Kauffman graduated from Stanford and went on to become an Obie-winning director in 2007. I cannot tell you how much I wish I'd known that when I was at Stanford! I would have felt validated in my pursuit of my degree and career. I felt that Stanford took every opportunity to treat my choice of industry and career as though it were invalid. If Stanford wants to create an arts community (for goodness sake, there is a Stanford Arts commercial during every football game for the past three years!), it has to treat the arts as a viable career pursuit. The department should be interested in where it's alumni are, and not just it's doctorate students. I want to get an annual email saying "here's where your classmates are!" I want the Department to care about what I'm doing. It should take pride in the accomplishments of its alumni, not leave them for dead. Yes, there's a lot of turnover. But the more you invest in me, I'm going to return. I want to go in and offer advice to young playwrights and directors and actors and give them the opportunities I can and create a bond with them so that we can all support each other in our pursuits.

I know that if I want it I will have to create it. But if I gathered a list of the accomplishments and whereabouts of alumni from 2007-2009, would the Department send it out or at least post it on its walls? Or would I have to stalk people and be the renegade graduate trying to create community where there is none?

It seems absurd for a Drama Department not to create community and continuity among its students. Of all industries, theatre is the most dependent on how people can help each other. It is entirely about the connections you make. And those of us who just jump into the world are forced to start at the very beginning. As a result, I honestly feel stunted in the industry as a director, compared to some of my contemporaries who were able to leap into New York City or the professional theatre worlds because of the connections their drama departments gave them. That is my biggest regret having gone to Stanford. I wouldn't trade anything else (well, maybe I'd ask for 3 more directing classes). I want to fix that. But I truly believe it starts with the Department recognizing its alumni who are making their way as professionals and forging the connections between those people and their students. The popularity of the Department would go up exponentially. All we want as Drama students is to be taken seriously. When I arrived at admit weekend I was told if I hadn't changed my major three times by the time I graduated my advisor would not have done her job. I knew then that I wanted to be a director, and that the Department was going to try to stand in my way. I worked all four years to be taken seriously, and I had to do it outside the scope of the Department, which did not afford me the opportunity to direct and to prove myself... and couldn't even tell me there were people like me out there who I could look up to and see that it was possible to become a New York City director with a B.A. from Stanford University.

That just makes me angry.

Reflection #4: On Networking

Apologies for the week-long hiatus. I am so impressed with people who can blog every day, or even on any sort of regular schedule. Nevertheless, I am back to continue my eight reflections, consecutive or not.

As I mentioned a few posts ago, one of the events I attended in recent weeks was the Solving for X workshop, a networking workshop taught by Michael Roderick. Four hours with twenty-six people from a variety of professions, all in entertainment, in a studio in Chelsea on a Saturday morning.

I spent a lot of the workshop thinking about the circumstances in which I have needed to apply the tools being presented, or opportunities I've been given that I need to take advantage of- I have to consider the practical application of what I'm being presented with in order for it to mean anything in my life. According to two friends in the room, it appeared to them that I was not having a good time- I don't think having a good time was the point, but any apparent lack of enjoyment was in fact internalization and self-assessment- in the context of a networking workshop I find it a little disconcerting that my body language can be read so negatively. As someone who is always doing, the chance for reflection was a very welcome outcome of the workshop. I am certainly not the first person to participate in any discussion unless I think I already have absorbed and understood the material, in which case being in class is already kind of pointless. I'd rather think things through for myself before saying them outloud so that I can be clear and concise. Often when I direct I don't get the chance to do that, meaning that I ramble for a while because I don't know yet how to say what I'm getting at. The same thing happens in any situation when I am put on the spot to speak and am not prepared to do so. And you wonder why I'm not an improviser. Maybe I need an extemporaneous speaking class.

But in the context of a workshop, I am going to sit in silence and let other people's thoughts sit in my head so that I can appropriately sift through them. Participating in exercises was a nice challenge because they were directed, and also because for the most part they came from how to express actual needs and desires. Although the third time you're telling someone you're looking for producers and playwrights it starts to sound kind of false- that part made me want to go back and reassess what exactly it is I need. I think "producers and playwrights" is a general way of saying "new projects to direct and people to help me mount them". Still general, but a little clearer in terms of my own needs, perhaps.

I left with the feeling that were I to walk into a networking event that evening, I would not necessarily handle myself any better than when I entered that morning, because I think like most things, these tools take both internalization and practice- and it's a good feeling to know they are things you can improve in yourself and not tricks that some are able to conjure at will.

I had a discussion following the workshop about social networking versus career networking. Obviously our industry is a social one by nature. But I often find myself with social relationships where I desire working ones and vice versa. I would be interested to hear a discussion of how to control that aspect of networking, particularly when going to events with peers, where the groundwork for social vs. industry is so unclear.

Lastly, it was a really interesting group of people, and it was great to have a room full of (mostly) strangers with such varying backgrounds. I think that was unintentionally very effective because it gave me the opportunity to realize that I absolutely gravitate towards those I know, and that it really takes another step for me to break out of that and approach strangers. I thought I was extroverted until I started meeting truly extroverted people... there is a love of discussion with strangers that I don't have.

If you ever have the chance to take a workshop from Michael Roderick, do it!

Hope you're all having a fantastic turkey day!

Reflection #3: On Access

I'm going to riff on the idea of access for a few minutes (EDIT: or seventy).

Last week, I had an interview with an awesome off-Broadway director. It was thrilling to sit in the room and talk to him for 25 minutes about the show, about his last show and about theatre in general. As I left, I thought to myself that even if I didn't get the job, if we saw each other again (which I believe is inevitable in this city) he would remember me and we would have a friendly, good interaction or even conversation. And while I didn't get the job, he left me the nicest voicemail telling me to keep in touch and that he hoped we would work together in the future.

Of course, now it's up to me to follow up on that.

This is what I do in my part-time job, which I love. I help grant access. I mailed off a contract to the (very well-deserving) girl who got the above job in question. My job is to assist in the creation and execution of career opportunities for directors and choreographers at all levels. And it's all about accessibility. How do we make Broadway and Off-Broadway and big regional directors & choreographers accessible to those who otherwise don't have a way to get a foot in the door? More than just connecting them to those directors, how do we make the process of a professional production accessible to young directors, who aren't given the opportunities to sit in a rehearsal room? How do we make the world of TV and film (and the evergrowing web-media) accessible to directors who only have experience in theatre?

Then there's access onstage.

I believe that the best plays* are accessible to everyone. Which doesn't necessarily imply they have to be universal. It just has to have a wide enough variety of characters, views or just subject matter so that, for example, a conservative watching "In the Wake" might be able to see his or herself reflected in the play (I use that example because I think there are moments that do open up access like that, although there could be more).

*I want to make sure this is distinct from theatre as a whole, as community-based theatre is something on an entirely different level which is intrinsically about access for a specific group of people. More on this later, perhaps?

I have been to many plays that I could not access because I felt as though I was not the intended audience. I wrote strongly about this feeling after seeing a play about Rwanda that was so focused on it's Catholicism that I felt entirely ostracized for my lack of spirituality. I wanted badly to be let into the play, but that door was shut to me.

In another play, I was the intended audience, but instead of being able to access the piece, I was lectured at for my desire not to stay in my hometown and blamed for gentrification as a whole. Even though I felt for the issues and the performances were incredible, I could not access the piece because I could not reconcile my personal experience with what I was being told to do.

I had a fantastic conversation with my boss yesterday about Shakespeare, sparked by a couple of important directors saying that Shakespeare should not be placed in a specific anachronistic context. I would argue that this is not the case. Shakespeare frustrates me because I cannot access the text. I have seen two productions of Shakespeare plays that I have loved, and both were set in a very specific anachronistic time, but doing so opened up the play for me. If I am able to identify the roles of the characters based on their context, I can begin to listen and understand the text. Measure for Measure still lives in my head in the 1980s redlight district. However, the key to these decisions is that they are not commentary on the context or on the script. The director of that M4M wasn't judging the redlight district dwellers, he just saw how to use the context to open up the story to the audience. Which is why (I believe) setting Shakespeare in war zones or modern political contexts is far less successful, and begets the judgment directors have towards such decisions.

Clearly I have opened up a can of worms I could talk about forever. Which ties nicely into the purpose behind this blogging every day exercise- accessing my own thoughts.

Bis morgen!

Reflection #2: On Grad School

Graduate school is a fun topic, because it is constantly being informed by the experiences and opinions of directors I meet, panels, job opportunities (or lack thereof), and the other artists who are in or have been to graduate school. Over the summer, I planned trips to SoCal and Chicago (surrounding football games) in order to visit grad schools I was interested in, namely UCSD with a possible trip to CalArts in SoCal, and Northwestern and DePaul in Chicago. However, the closer the trips came, the less I wanted to go. I love Naomi Iizuka's playwriting program at UCSD, but it turns out the Directing program is now very avant-garde & believes in the director as auteur, which is not at all what Les Waters ran back in the days when all of my favorite female directors went there, and the word on the street is that the two programs don't get along. One of my biggest priorities in grad school is a strong collaboration between the directing and writing programs, so all of my UCSD dreams began to fall apart when faced with reality and I decided it wasn't worth the trip. Three years in San Diego does not have enough to offer me without a strong belief in the program.

As I distanced myself from what I had believed to be my ideal school, I became disenchanted with the idea of grad school entirely. A trip home (part of the initially planned SoCal trip) included a meeting with my college advisor who asked why I wanted to go to grad school anyway. The only answer I could come up with was the community of other student-artists. He asked if that one reason was worth the time, money and effort in grad school. As I considered the community and world I have begun to build in New York, the answer was clearly no.

On returning to NYC, I wondered to myself under what circumstance I would still want to go to grad school. And the answer was Yale. Oh Yale. Do I need Yale? Probably not. Would I get into Yale? Probably not. But the incredible playwrights, actors, designers, managers and other directors I would meet plus the prestige of that degree weigh so heavily in my mind, as I meet time and time again people from all disciplines whose work I love and whose careers I would love to follow and/or take part in, who share that honor.

So despite my disenchanted view, when the time came around to register for Visiting Day I hopped on the wagon. If nothing else, I have never been to the campus, and I was sure to learn a lot. Plus I convinced two actor friends to go with me so I wouldn't have to make the journey alone. And last Thursday I hopped on the Metro North to New Haven and embarked on a day of networking, note-taking and knowledge-gaining.

I think I got a great balanced perspective of the School of Drama, and with it, what to expect from any MFA Directing Program to some degree.

• The Dean will know how to sell his (or her) school. That doesn't make it any less awesome, but does need to be taken with a grain of salt. As he stood there trying to convince us why it was the best school, one had to consider that 900 actors applied last year for 16 spots. It's not like they're begging for applicants.
• Liz Diamond was incredibly inspiring. I loved the feeling of sitting around the table in the tiny classroom above the Yale Cabaret and listening to her talk- I could do that for three years. Leadership and collaboration. I'll listen to lectures on those any day of the week.
• Reality check #1: You may have to direct plays that just aren't ready for a production, or that you're not in love with. It's certainly something to remember that just because you're in grad school doesn't mean that you have your pick of what you want to do... and it's also a potential downside to a relationship with a writing department. You may not click with the writers, and then what? So much for the benefit of that collaboration between programs I hold in so high regard.
• Reality check #2: I truly believe that in order to get the best possible experience out of grad school, you have to be in a place where you can take three years out of your life to devote to it. Those shows you've been collaborating on, or that long distance relationship? Not going to happen while you're in grad school. Not for directing. It's a 100% commitment. Which is thrilling. But also a reality check in the sense that I know I'm not ready to do that right now. I would really need to hit a point where I felt so stuck or so in need of further education that I could afford to throw everything out the window. And I think the people who can do that are the people that succeed in grad school, as well.
• New Haven is really not that far from New York. I should go there to see theatre more often. But once you're in New Haven for school, I would not expect to go to the city at all.
  
• Prospective Yale directors are pretty awesome people. This is an important note. :-)
• You have to know why you're going to grad school. An MFA in directing is NOT something to get for the degree. Even though it really may seem like that's a good enough reason 364 days of the year.
• The pizza at BAR in New Haven is pretty fantastic. But generally I should eat more than a croissant at 12pm and half a large pizza at 8pm. This is more of a note for my personal well-being.
  

The takeaway? I am still interested in an MFA. Yale is still a dream... were I to eventually be in a place where it would work for me and fulfill a true need beyond the desire for the connections and future employment it might enable. But not right now. We'll see what happens.

Reflection #1: On Writing

I have eleven pages of notes from the last eight days, resulting from a combination of an incredible directing intensive with Leigh Silverman at the Einhorn School of Performing Arts (@Primary Stages), a trip to the Yale School of Drama, a networking workshop with the singular Michael Roderick and a One-on-One Conversation with Jonathan Moscone and Anne Kauffman. Eleven pages of notes and no time to process. So I'm taking the first of what I hope to be many moments of reflection to write in here.

Reflection #1: On Writing.

My first realization, reflection and resolve from the past eight days is that I need to write more. When I write, I am able to process all of the thoughts in my head and vocalize them that much more clearly when the opportunity arises. Therefore, once a day for the next eight days I am going to write a short post reflecting on some thought or discovery from the past week and a day. For all that I tell people I hate writing and cannot write, I love sorting my thoughts into cohesive ideas and pontificating on a variety of subjects- as you already know if you read this blog. During the directing intensive, Leigh Silverman spoke about the importance of writing skills for a director, citing the need to communicate a vision, a proposal and even a personality through writing. Recognizing that I ramble a lot and that I need to be much more clear and concise both in my directing as well as in my presentation of myself, writing is a tool through which to practice creating those concise ideas. I recall feeling much more focused when I was writing in this blog consistently last spring, and I am hoping to get back into the habit to refocus myself on what it is that I'm doing, why I'm doing it and how I can improve myself professionally and personally.

As always, and perhaps more so than before, this blog is a personal challenge and endeavor, but I invite you to come along for the ride!