There is always a point in the rehearsal process where I have to remind myself of why I chose to direct this play. Not because I'm dissuaded of its value, but because I need to return to the initial impulse, the feeling that came over me when I was first introduced to it: the moment that stopped me in my tracks and made me want to spend time creating this world on stage.
The play I'm directing for the Drama League Directorfest 2007, Autophagy, is a new play by a Chicago playwright named Sean Graney. I directed another play of his called En Mortem in 2003 for a company I formerly ran in Chicago called Flush Puppy Productions.
When I first read Autophagy, I felt like I was struck with an anvil. The play compacts a very complex series of events and emotions into 20 minutes that include among other things: an android, the revelation of a life-changing event, live music, violence against a doll, demonstration of an abusive relationship, and an offstage tragedy that changes everything. These things are often hilarious, and they happen so quickly and jarringly that they feel like they're coming out of nowhere. And before one has time to think about it, another event occurs.
The play left me stunned. I was upset, confused, and somehow in complete agreement with what just happened. I knew then that this was a play I wanted to do. It left me with more questions than answers, it made me remember something about my own life, and think about the world in a new way.
As I looked at a run-through of the play in rehearsal the other day, I was terrified that I had gone horribly off-track. The play lacked the excitement that I knew it should have. What had I done wrong?
I went back to the play. I put myself in that place, sitting at my desk, when I read it last summer. I remembered everything: the pace at which I read it, the surprise I felt when each event happened, the arc of the song, and the shock of the end.
What we had done, I realized, was an important part of a rehearsal process: we made the play make sense. The actors and I had worked hard at creating something that, for us, had a through line, linear thought, relationship and understanding. We played out each beat, figuring out how each event triggered the next. But the effect on the audience was no longer jarring and hilarious. The play should always be one step ahead of the audience, leaving them surprised and delighted by each new and strange moment, but instead the audience was right there with the characters, following the linear progression.
Now the actors and I know why everything happens in the order in which it does, and now all we need to do is not show each of those steps to the audience. In the next few rehearsals we will tighten the gaps, speed it up, and because of the foundation we have laid in the past week, this will be simple for us. With some adjustments we will bring the play back to the excitement of that first read, but with the depth of the investigative work we have done to get there.
-Joanie Schultz
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Thursday, December 6, 2007
A One Act Play, Please . . . Anybody?
Quite honestly, one of the most difficult aspects of the Drama League Fellowship was finding a one act play I felt strongly about that was appropriate for DirectorFest. That sounds odd, given the sheer volume of short plays out in the world, nevertheless, finding that perfect piece feels like hunting a needle in a hay stack.
First, are the simple limitations of the production: three or fewer actors, twenty to thirty minutes in length. Production values are relatively high, but small plays are necessary. No flying scenery or turntables in this one! The purpose of DirectorFest is to introduce a group of new directors to the theatre community. So, ideally, the play you select should tell the theatre community something about you—about your temperament, your taste, your aesthetic, and frankly, show the world what you’re good at. Hmm. What is it I’m good at, exactly? Oh yeah, and I should REALLY like the play—love it, in fact.
I wanted to do a new(ish) play, to avoid comparisons to memorable productions of more famous one act plays. So that narrowed the field. I also wanted to discover a new author—new to me, at least. My copious and borderline obsessive script reading lead me very quickly to the catalogue at New Dramatists, where I could read synopses and breakdowns of every play by each of their members, past and present. As the writers at New Dramatists are some of the best in the American Theatre, this was a goldmine. I found a lot of great short plays and ultimately settled on one that was also recommended by a friend. Julia Cho’s The 100 Most Beautiful Names of Todd was my ultimate selection.
This remarkable little play met all of my needs. Its poetic structure calls out for an inventive and unusual staging scheme, yet the characters are richly drawn humanistic creations. The play is a deep exploration of life’s biggest questions—what happens to us when we die? How could I manage if I lost a parent? A partner? Is there a God? If so, why does he/she allow bad things to happen to good people? It is also a comic piece about first love and how a mother and daughter navigate the teenage years. In short, it’s a rich play for me, for the actors and for designers to all bite into. Professionally, it gave me the opportunity to work with two very talented teenage actors, a first for me. All told, it’s turned out to be the perfect play. Who knew such a thing existed?
First, are the simple limitations of the production: three or fewer actors, twenty to thirty minutes in length. Production values are relatively high, but small plays are necessary. No flying scenery or turntables in this one! The purpose of DirectorFest is to introduce a group of new directors to the theatre community. So, ideally, the play you select should tell the theatre community something about you—about your temperament, your taste, your aesthetic, and frankly, show the world what you’re good at. Hmm. What is it I’m good at, exactly? Oh yeah, and I should REALLY like the play—love it, in fact.
I wanted to do a new(ish) play, to avoid comparisons to memorable productions of more famous one act plays. So that narrowed the field. I also wanted to discover a new author—new to me, at least. My copious and borderline obsessive script reading lead me very quickly to the catalogue at New Dramatists, where I could read synopses and breakdowns of every play by each of their members, past and present. As the writers at New Dramatists are some of the best in the American Theatre, this was a goldmine. I found a lot of great short plays and ultimately settled on one that was also recommended by a friend. Julia Cho’s The 100 Most Beautiful Names of Todd was my ultimate selection.
This remarkable little play met all of my needs. Its poetic structure calls out for an inventive and unusual staging scheme, yet the characters are richly drawn humanistic creations. The play is a deep exploration of life’s biggest questions—what happens to us when we die? How could I manage if I lost a parent? A partner? Is there a God? If so, why does he/she allow bad things to happen to good people? It is also a comic piece about first love and how a mother and daughter navigate the teenage years. In short, it’s a rich play for me, for the actors and for designers to all bite into. Professionally, it gave me the opportunity to work with two very talented teenage actors, a first for me. All told, it’s turned out to be the perfect play. Who knew such a thing existed?
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Director Fest 2007
So the time has finally come- after the week of wonder, a mountain retreat, and months of assistant directing, the drama league sheds its protective covering and exposes us to the world. For Director Fest 2007, I will be directing Don Evans’, Sugar Mouth Sam- Don’t Dance No More. I’ve wanted to direct this play for quite some time. I had known the playwright prior to his death and was a great admirer of his work. More importantly, I wanted to pick a play that best captured my voice as a director, provided a group of actors with great meaty roles, and took an audience on an emotional rollercoaster leaving them wanting to see more. With this play, I got that and more.
When approaching this play, I took to heart the advice I got from Bob Moss, “When directing a play, one should do the following, pick a great play, work with great actors, create a good ground plan and, get the Hell out of the way.” However, after this experience, I would add a few things to the list. For starters, be specific. When working on a play – especially when you have to do it in a week- it is always good to convey to not only your actors, but also, your designers the story you are looking to tell. Sugar Mouth Sam… is the story of a man trying to get his woman to believe in him just one more time and the startling realization that she is no longer able to do so. However, when one reads this play, it is so easy to believe that it is Verda’s story. I learned this in the very first reading of the play with the cast. Fortunately we were doing table work and I was able to show the actors the various switches in the play which leads the audience to follow Sammy’s story. Once the story was clarified for the actors, they were able to find the various colors of not only Sammy & Verda’s relationship, but also, Verda’s denial & acceptance of the real Sammy.
The second ingredient I would add to this recipe of directing is patience. Having known this script for quite some time, I know who these characters are; however, the actor comes to the process as a blank slate. My first inclination was to quickly block and set the play and allow the actors to catch up to me. But actors aren’t robots. One can not just input a series of commands and watch them go. They too have a process and it is the director’s honor to provide them with the tools they need to prosper while maneuvering through the world of the play. Sugar Mouth Sam. . . is a wordy play and I couldn’t wait for the day they were off book. It was only then that I knew I would be able to really push the actors where I knew they were trying to go. But again, I had to have patience. Unfortunately for me and one of my actors, that day didn’t come until the day before opening. However, once she was completely off book we were able to find other levels and sodalities which helped in making the production even better.
The last and most important ingredient I would add is faith. When ever there was a problem or it looked like things were going to become horribly bad, I learned to remind myself that I was a good director and that at the end of the day everything was going to be okay. I had to have faith in my actors, the process, my education and without a doubt God and though my show is less than 48 hours away and I feel like a virgin on prom night, I am a strong believer of Isaiah 54: 17 “. . . No weapon formed against me shall prosper”, which I understand as, anything that gets in my way, He’ll take care of.
When approaching this play, I took to heart the advice I got from Bob Moss, “When directing a play, one should do the following, pick a great play, work with great actors, create a good ground plan and, get the Hell out of the way.” However, after this experience, I would add a few things to the list. For starters, be specific. When working on a play – especially when you have to do it in a week- it is always good to convey to not only your actors, but also, your designers the story you are looking to tell. Sugar Mouth Sam… is the story of a man trying to get his woman to believe in him just one more time and the startling realization that she is no longer able to do so. However, when one reads this play, it is so easy to believe that it is Verda’s story. I learned this in the very first reading of the play with the cast. Fortunately we were doing table work and I was able to show the actors the various switches in the play which leads the audience to follow Sammy’s story. Once the story was clarified for the actors, they were able to find the various colors of not only Sammy & Verda’s relationship, but also, Verda’s denial & acceptance of the real Sammy.
The second ingredient I would add to this recipe of directing is patience. Having known this script for quite some time, I know who these characters are; however, the actor comes to the process as a blank slate. My first inclination was to quickly block and set the play and allow the actors to catch up to me. But actors aren’t robots. One can not just input a series of commands and watch them go. They too have a process and it is the director’s honor to provide them with the tools they need to prosper while maneuvering through the world of the play. Sugar Mouth Sam. . . is a wordy play and I couldn’t wait for the day they were off book. It was only then that I knew I would be able to really push the actors where I knew they were trying to go. But again, I had to have patience. Unfortunately for me and one of my actors, that day didn’t come until the day before opening. However, once she was completely off book we were able to find other levels and sodalities which helped in making the production even better.
The last and most important ingredient I would add is faith. When ever there was a problem or it looked like things were going to become horribly bad, I learned to remind myself that I was a good director and that at the end of the day everything was going to be okay. I had to have faith in my actors, the process, my education and without a doubt God and though my show is less than 48 hours away and I feel like a virgin on prom night, I am a strong believer of Isaiah 54: 17 “. . . No weapon formed against me shall prosper”, which I understand as, anything that gets in my way, He’ll take care of.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
And So It Begins
Wonder week isn’t over five minutes and I am on a Peter Pan bus on my way to Syracuse, NY to begin working on “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” at Syracuse Stage. I will be assisting the former Artistic Director and to my luck directing the understudy production. It is a Lort C company that is also apart of Syracuse University. Prior to my beginning on “Les Liaisons” I will be directing “Week 42” of Susan Lori Parks’ “365 Plays” with some of the BFA students. School hasn’t started yet, but the B.F.A’s are eager to begin. We began by just reading “Week 42” along with “The 3 Constance” [The set of plays that everyone does if they are participating]. Their initial reaction was “What the hell is this?” Fortunately, I have a lot of experience working with grad and undergrad students and was therefore ready for such a reaction. We spent the first few days just reading the text and trying to find our way into it. All in all, I would be directing 10 of Susan Lori Parks’ “356 plays.” Everything had already been cast [without my input] and I found myself in the position that I have grown rather comfortable with – teacher.
The biggest hurtle for the actors to over come was understanding the world Parks was creating with this collection of works, as well as, her very specific use of language. To address this problem, I pulled other pieces from the collection of “356 Plays” that I thought might be more attainable for them. This addressed both problems and led the actors to a very beautiful discovery. Though Parks’ writing was very specific, there was room for tremendous interpretation. Once discovered, this notion of interpretation became extremely liberating for the actors. All of the sudden, it was as if I had struck a match in their minds - their imaginations were burning with ideas and the only ways to put out the fire was to begin exploring “Week 42” on our feet. With only a few days left, we quickly blocked and set all 10 plays. While working with the actors, my only guideline was to stay true to the text. Often when dealing with young actors, I find they have a tendency to paraphrase text as apposed to staying true to it; however, Parks’ is not a writer for which this is a good idea. Every word she sets to a page has a purpose. There is a rhythm to her writing and if you paraphrase it, you loose the essence of what she is trying to create.
Finally, after a week and a half of working, the day of showing had arrived. No one at this institution knew me, the director of “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” (for whom I would be assisting), all of the faculty and staff of Syracuse stage, as well as their New Artistic Director would be in attendance. Damn! Needles to say, I felt as thought I needed to have gotten this right. As the house and stage began to cross fade, I put my head down in a little prayer, “Lord, please allow me to have made the right decisions. Please let them understand what I’ve done. Please don’t let me make an ass out of myself. . .” And all of the sudden, there was laughter, I looked up and it had begun. I looked around the house and noticed the audience thoroughly enjoying themselves, and more importantly the actors – who were once so intimidated by this work – were enjoying themselves. And in an instant, it didn’t matter anymore. We had worked hard over the course of the last 10 days and I knew that both the actors and I had done the absolute best we could. As the performance brought itself to a close, the actors were met by a standing ovation. I couldn’t have been more proud of them if they were my own children.
The biggest hurtle for the actors to over come was understanding the world Parks was creating with this collection of works, as well as, her very specific use of language. To address this problem, I pulled other pieces from the collection of “356 Plays” that I thought might be more attainable for them. This addressed both problems and led the actors to a very beautiful discovery. Though Parks’ writing was very specific, there was room for tremendous interpretation. Once discovered, this notion of interpretation became extremely liberating for the actors. All of the sudden, it was as if I had struck a match in their minds - their imaginations were burning with ideas and the only ways to put out the fire was to begin exploring “Week 42” on our feet. With only a few days left, we quickly blocked and set all 10 plays. While working with the actors, my only guideline was to stay true to the text. Often when dealing with young actors, I find they have a tendency to paraphrase text as apposed to staying true to it; however, Parks’ is not a writer for which this is a good idea. Every word she sets to a page has a purpose. There is a rhythm to her writing and if you paraphrase it, you loose the essence of what she is trying to create.
Finally, after a week and a half of working, the day of showing had arrived. No one at this institution knew me, the director of “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” (for whom I would be assisting), all of the faculty and staff of Syracuse stage, as well as their New Artistic Director would be in attendance. Damn! Needles to say, I felt as thought I needed to have gotten this right. As the house and stage began to cross fade, I put my head down in a little prayer, “Lord, please allow me to have made the right decisions. Please let them understand what I’ve done. Please don’t let me make an ass out of myself. . .” And all of the sudden, there was laughter, I looked up and it had begun. I looked around the house and noticed the audience thoroughly enjoying themselves, and more importantly the actors – who were once so intimidated by this work – were enjoying themselves. And in an instant, it didn’t matter anymore. We had worked hard over the course of the last 10 days and I knew that both the actors and I had done the absolute best we could. As the performance brought itself to a close, the actors were met by a standing ovation. I couldn’t have been more proud of them if they were my own children.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Into the Mountains
So wonder week is over, I have been introduced to more important people in theatre than I could have ever imagined, I have a deeper understanding of how theatre in New York works, and I am hungry for more. At exactly 8:45 in the morning we begin our descent into the mountains. It is a large 15 passenger van and somehow, by the grace of God, all 12 of us [Four directors, 6 out of 8 actors, plus Roger & Emily]with ALL of our bags managed to fit in. As we began our exodus for the city, bobbing and weaving in New York traffic, we began trying to break the ice by sharing tad-bits our lives hoping to find some connection. Right away I noticed that these weren’t just some actors that Roger had found on the streets but artist who had an invested interest and belief in the drama league. They all were actors who had been making a living acting and were excited about working with us. Several hours had passed and we were just making our way up the mountain. Our destination was just 20 minutes away and my mind began to wonder, “Am I ready?”
During the summer, Roger had informed us all of what our assignments would be. We all would be directing a scene from Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, a pair of monologues – which the actors would choose – and finally a pitch. I read Uncle Vanya backwards and forward more times than I would care to admit, as well as numerous critiques of Chekhov’s work. The play that I had been given to pitch was John Ford’s Tis Pity She a Whore, where again I labored in researching the play as best I could. Hell, I hadn’t done this much work since I was in grad school. And yet, in spite of all the work I’d done, while just minutes away from the retreat, my heart was pounding, pumping fear & doubt throughout every vein in my body. We arrived. After a quick lunch and brief unpacking we found ourselves in the barn where we were introduced to Tim Vassen [Our master Director] and began the process of really getting to know each other. By the end of the day we had had our first rehearsal and first performance. Without a doubt, theses were no ordinary actors or at least not the type of actors I had become accustomed to working with. With each project I encountered, where I had to work with the actors, I got a better understanding of what a true collaboration between a Director and Actor SHOULD BE. So often I had worked with actors who’d come to the table saying “tell me what you” as apposed to “theses are some of the ideas I would like to try.” With every project I worked on, I experienced a feeling of give & take that I can hardly express in words. It was like being in the perfect relationship- fresh, new and exciting while at the same time safe, familiar and sublimely comfortable. This relationship made it so much easier for me to relax when dealing with Chekhov.
I had directed Chekhov’s, The Seagull before with a rather mediocre response and was worried that I might not do so well with Uncle Vanya. At our first rehearsal, we began as usual with table work and it was the easiest thing I had ever done in my life. We all knew what we were talking about and together we were pushing each other to a deeper understanding of the text. By the end of the first rehearsal, the actors were jumping out of their seats to start blocking. Over the course of the next few days, we moved in perfect syncopation. We had found the perfect location for the scene, The actors were vigorously learning the lines while at the same finding new discoveries within the text and all I had to do was get out of the way while providing the actors with the necessary tools to create the world of the scene. I felt as though I was Picasso, standing before a blank canvas – staring at it’s nakedness for hours before making the first stroke, being careful to listen to what it wants to be and not imposing my own pre -determined thoughts.
Finally, the time had come for the showing. Immediately, those feelings of fear and doubt return. “What if everyone sees my work and realizes that I can’t direct?” The story of The Emperor’s New Clothes was very present in my mind. One by one we presented our scenes and they all, including yours truly, were well received. Afterwards, there was a party where we all shared our thoughts with each other about the night of scenes.
I awoke the next morning with sense of accomplishment [ as well as a slight hang over] and was eager to get started on my first A.D. assignment. I walked away from this experience with a new and profound confidence in my abilities as a director. Yes, that voice of doubt will always be there – but it is my ability to over come it which will make me a great director. As we begin moving down the mountain the thirst for directing is growing more and more.
During the summer, Roger had informed us all of what our assignments would be. We all would be directing a scene from Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, a pair of monologues – which the actors would choose – and finally a pitch. I read Uncle Vanya backwards and forward more times than I would care to admit, as well as numerous critiques of Chekhov’s work. The play that I had been given to pitch was John Ford’s Tis Pity She a Whore, where again I labored in researching the play as best I could. Hell, I hadn’t done this much work since I was in grad school. And yet, in spite of all the work I’d done, while just minutes away from the retreat, my heart was pounding, pumping fear & doubt throughout every vein in my body. We arrived. After a quick lunch and brief unpacking we found ourselves in the barn where we were introduced to Tim Vassen [Our master Director] and began the process of really getting to know each other. By the end of the day we had had our first rehearsal and first performance. Without a doubt, theses were no ordinary actors or at least not the type of actors I had become accustomed to working with. With each project I encountered, where I had to work with the actors, I got a better understanding of what a true collaboration between a Director and Actor SHOULD BE. So often I had worked with actors who’d come to the table saying “tell me what you” as apposed to “theses are some of the ideas I would like to try.” With every project I worked on, I experienced a feeling of give & take that I can hardly express in words. It was like being in the perfect relationship- fresh, new and exciting while at the same time safe, familiar and sublimely comfortable. This relationship made it so much easier for me to relax when dealing with Chekhov.
I had directed Chekhov’s, The Seagull before with a rather mediocre response and was worried that I might not do so well with Uncle Vanya. At our first rehearsal, we began as usual with table work and it was the easiest thing I had ever done in my life. We all knew what we were talking about and together we were pushing each other to a deeper understanding of the text. By the end of the first rehearsal, the actors were jumping out of their seats to start blocking. Over the course of the next few days, we moved in perfect syncopation. We had found the perfect location for the scene, The actors were vigorously learning the lines while at the same finding new discoveries within the text and all I had to do was get out of the way while providing the actors with the necessary tools to create the world of the scene. I felt as though I was Picasso, standing before a blank canvas – staring at it’s nakedness for hours before making the first stroke, being careful to listen to what it wants to be and not imposing my own pre -determined thoughts.
Finally, the time had come for the showing. Immediately, those feelings of fear and doubt return. “What if everyone sees my work and realizes that I can’t direct?” The story of The Emperor’s New Clothes was very present in my mind. One by one we presented our scenes and they all, including yours truly, were well received. Afterwards, there was a party where we all shared our thoughts with each other about the night of scenes.
I awoke the next morning with sense of accomplishment [ as well as a slight hang over] and was eager to get started on my first A.D. assignment. I walked away from this experience with a new and profound confidence in my abilities as a director. Yes, that voice of doubt will always be there – but it is my ability to over come it which will make me a great director. As we begin moving down the mountain the thirst for directing is growing more and more.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Wonder Week
To my astonishment, I was accepted into the Drama League’s Fall Directing program. Right away I began receiving emails from Roger & Emily informing me of Wonder week, Director Fest & the Director’s retreat. Upon first receiving my acceptance I was filled with excitement and apprehension- excited because I am about to take my career to another level and apprehensive, not of the program, but that I might not cut the mustard. Having received my acceptance somewhere in April and not starting until August, needless to say, this summer was one on the longest I have ever experienced.
It was August 15th and I met my fellow directing colleagues. We are all uniquely different yet very similar in our great thirst for directing. Right way we are introduced to all of the Drama League staff [Family] and we are provided with the Wonder Week schedule. Now I see why they call it Wonder Week – because it’s a wonder that we’ll be able to meet that many people in such a short amount of time. Over the course of the next 6 days we schlep our way all over Manhattan to meet some of the most important people in theatre in New York [And I might also add, were taken to some very nice restaurants by Drama League members and supporters]. We are not only introduced to major producers of both commercial and non profit theatre but also agents, costumers, casting directors, Artistic directors and the office of SSDC. By the end of this week it felt like I had been given THE KEY to the golden gate. At the same time it forced me to really begin to think [re-evaluate] not my skills as a director but my over all mission as an artist.
On one of the last days of wonder week there was a very open and honest discussion with several New York artistic directors. Each company [As well as the head strong, & highly opinionated AD’s] was very different and as they spoke I realized that they all shared a common thought -- Producing works that were important to them. This may sound like such a simple thought but very often I have found myself directing a play that didn’t speak to but was capable of playing bills for a few months. So often, we as artist, get caught up in allowing outside factors to dictate some of the artistic choices we make and sometimes forget that the plays we decide to invest our blood, sweat & tears in should be a reflection of the world we see as flittered through the very core of our souls.
After leaving this round table discussion, I walked away with not only a new perspective but a deeper respect of the craft we call directing. In deed, I can’t wait to see what is next. It is as if I am starving man in the middle of the desert and the only thing I need to survive, is to direct.
It was August 15th and I met my fellow directing colleagues. We are all uniquely different yet very similar in our great thirst for directing. Right way we are introduced to all of the Drama League staff [Family] and we are provided with the Wonder Week schedule. Now I see why they call it Wonder Week – because it’s a wonder that we’ll be able to meet that many people in such a short amount of time. Over the course of the next 6 days we schlep our way all over Manhattan to meet some of the most important people in theatre in New York [And I might also add, were taken to some very nice restaurants by Drama League members and supporters]. We are not only introduced to major producers of both commercial and non profit theatre but also agents, costumers, casting directors, Artistic directors and the office of SSDC. By the end of this week it felt like I had been given THE KEY to the golden gate. At the same time it forced me to really begin to think [re-evaluate] not my skills as a director but my over all mission as an artist.
On one of the last days of wonder week there was a very open and honest discussion with several New York artistic directors. Each company [As well as the head strong, & highly opinionated AD’s] was very different and as they spoke I realized that they all shared a common thought -- Producing works that were important to them. This may sound like such a simple thought but very often I have found myself directing a play that didn’t speak to but was capable of playing bills for a few months. So often, we as artist, get caught up in allowing outside factors to dictate some of the artistic choices we make and sometimes forget that the plays we decide to invest our blood, sweat & tears in should be a reflection of the world we see as flittered through the very core of our souls.
After leaving this round table discussion, I walked away with not only a new perspective but a deeper respect of the craft we call directing. In deed, I can’t wait to see what is next. It is as if I am starving man in the middle of the desert and the only thing I need to survive, is to direct.
No One Told Me There'd be Dancing . . .
When I thought about how I would spend my fall as an assistant director, I was ready for errand running, making props lists, looking into the odd dramaturgical mystery, keeping track of blocking—standard fare for assistant directors. I didn't expect to be filling in for a missing actor through a choreography rehearsal! With only two semesters of dance in college (ten years ago) and a lifetime awareness of what a uniquely bad mover I am, I have avoided "dancing" situations like the plague. This past weekend, Jonathan Groff (Claude in the Public's staged concert of "Hair") had to miss rehearsal in order to perform in matinees for Spring Awakening. So, I got to be Claude. All things considered, I didn't make too big an ass of myself . . .
Working with director Diane Paulus (distinguished Drama Leage Alum) has been a dream. Diane has been very generous about including me in every phase of the process—from meetings at the Public with the artistic staff, to intimate show planning meetings with the choreographer and music director. In addition, I'm getting to know this show for the first time with its living creators in rehearsal. Jim Rado and Galt MacDermot have been an integral part of this process from the beginning. There's no better way to learn a show.
Back to this choreography thing—all an assistant dirctor really wants (at least this assistant director) is to feel like I've served some essential purpose in making the show a success. With Claude having to miss a couple of rehearsals, I have been able to do this. After walking (and dancing) Claude's track for initial staging sessions, I was asked to work with Jonathan one on one to teach him what we had sketched in the previous day. What a blast! When you're asked to do that, you really get to know the staging and also get a picture of what is essential story-telling. I was a happy assisant when we ran the large junks with the "real Claude" for the first time and they went off without a hitch (a testament to Jonathan Groff's extreme talent and professionalism!).
Dan Rigazzi
Working with director Diane Paulus (distinguished Drama Leage Alum) has been a dream. Diane has been very generous about including me in every phase of the process—from meetings at the Public with the artistic staff, to intimate show planning meetings with the choreographer and music director. In addition, I'm getting to know this show for the first time with its living creators in rehearsal. Jim Rado and Galt MacDermot have been an integral part of this process from the beginning. There's no better way to learn a show.
Back to this choreography thing—all an assistant dirctor really wants (at least this assistant director) is to feel like I've served some essential purpose in making the show a success. With Claude having to miss a couple of rehearsals, I have been able to do this. After walking (and dancing) Claude's track for initial staging sessions, I was asked to work with Jonathan one on one to teach him what we had sketched in the previous day. What a blast! When you're asked to do that, you really get to know the staging and also get a picture of what is essential story-telling. I was a happy assisant when we ran the large junks with the "real Claude" for the first time and they went off without a hitch (a testament to Jonathan Groff's extreme talent and professionalism!).
Dan Rigazzi
Friday, September 14, 2007
In the beginning
After being accepted into the program in the spring, Roger warned the overly-excited four of us: Now you have to wait for everything to crank up in the fall. BUT, it probably wasn't a week after being accepted that we began to receive our first assignments. . . The wait was over. Throughout the summer, more assignments trickled our way to prepare us for the beginning of the Fall Directors Project: begin the search for a one-act play for December's DirectorFest; begin work on UNCLE VANYA and prepare to direct an assigned scene for the retreat; think about where/whom/what you'd like to assist for 2 assistant director spots this fall; read an assigned Jacobean play and prepare a pitch to an imaginary theater company; etc.
Taken individually, the assignments seem like no big deal--taken all together, the cumulative effect was actually very powerful as it forced me to ask myself several questions simultaneously that I need to be asking more often. What will be most helpful to me right now in the field of directing? What am I curious about but have been underexposed to? Given permission to turn in anything of my choosing for DirectorFest, what kind of play do I want to direct? What's important to me in the choosing of this play? What kind of work do I want to assist on and observe (musical, maybe? classical? new play with the playwright in the room?)? How to approach Chekhov? How best to pitch a play?
With lots of work on these assignments tucked under out belts, we finally convened in mid-August to begin WonderWeek. It was a whirlwind of meetings and theater-going. I was impressed by the generosity of people--busy people--who took time to meet with us, listen to us--who we are, what our interests are--and give us insight into their jobs and their expertise in the world of NY theater. They peeled back the curtain a bit on the theater world and, to reiterate what Dan and Joanie have said, made it seem like there is room in the world for honest, hard-working, passionate directors. From a roundtable of artistic directors at prominent theaters in town, to meeting with an expert casting director who talked to us extensively about the audition process, WonderWeek was about gathering information which in turn built our confidence as we moved into the beginning of the fellowship.
Next up: the retreat at a farm in the Berkshires. I didn't know what to expect with the retreat: taking a van to parts unknown to live and work with strangers. . . But even before leaving the farm, I was aware that this retreat will remain a defining moment for me in my directing career. The memory of our collective site-specific VANYA scenes unfolding across that estate, and remembering the work and decision-making that we all brought to the table will serve as a reminder to me of what this work can be at its best: it was rigorous, challenging, and just plain fun. The actors were fantastic--working with them was inspiring on so many levels. I'm a better director having worked with them.
Also, taking us out of the city to focus on directing was one of the best gifts the Drama League could have given. With no cell phones or e-mail and without the demands of daily life, it was amazing how much brain-space I felt opening up (which was good since I was essentially working on 4 different plays in the 4 days we were there). I can't remember the last time I was unplugged for so long. I loved it. Besides being unplugged, we also had open fresh air, amazing views, and an incredible chef cooking food fresh from the garden. A great reminder to me that taking time to savor the soul-feeding things in life is conducive to creativity. I know this already, but it's easy to forget when pounding the pavement in NYC. Being reminded to slow down and focus was an important part of the retreat for me.
Another perk of the trip was getting to know the other 3 directors in the fellowship a lot better. We downloaded about the long days of activities--what struck us about the day, what we are learning, what's shifting, what we are questioning. I realized how rare it is for directors to have that opportunity--to experience similar theatrical events and be able to talk about them. A simple thing, really, but often directors fly solo. At the retreat, there were 3 others living the experience with me and talking about it. It was refreshing.
After the retreat, we each headed in different directions. I am in NYC where I joined the rehearsal process for the NY premiere of Horton Foote's DIVIDING THE ESTATE which was already underway. I'm assisting the director Michael Wilson. . . .More on DTE later!
Gaye Taylor Upchurch
Taken individually, the assignments seem like no big deal--taken all together, the cumulative effect was actually very powerful as it forced me to ask myself several questions simultaneously that I need to be asking more often. What will be most helpful to me right now in the field of directing? What am I curious about but have been underexposed to? Given permission to turn in anything of my choosing for DirectorFest, what kind of play do I want to direct? What's important to me in the choosing of this play? What kind of work do I want to assist on and observe (musical, maybe? classical? new play with the playwright in the room?)? How to approach Chekhov? How best to pitch a play?
With lots of work on these assignments tucked under out belts, we finally convened in mid-August to begin WonderWeek. It was a whirlwind of meetings and theater-going. I was impressed by the generosity of people--busy people--who took time to meet with us, listen to us--who we are, what our interests are--and give us insight into their jobs and their expertise in the world of NY theater. They peeled back the curtain a bit on the theater world and, to reiterate what Dan and Joanie have said, made it seem like there is room in the world for honest, hard-working, passionate directors. From a roundtable of artistic directors at prominent theaters in town, to meeting with an expert casting director who talked to us extensively about the audition process, WonderWeek was about gathering information which in turn built our confidence as we moved into the beginning of the fellowship.
Next up: the retreat at a farm in the Berkshires. I didn't know what to expect with the retreat: taking a van to parts unknown to live and work with strangers. . . But even before leaving the farm, I was aware that this retreat will remain a defining moment for me in my directing career. The memory of our collective site-specific VANYA scenes unfolding across that estate, and remembering the work and decision-making that we all brought to the table will serve as a reminder to me of what this work can be at its best: it was rigorous, challenging, and just plain fun. The actors were fantastic--working with them was inspiring on so many levels. I'm a better director having worked with them.
Also, taking us out of the city to focus on directing was one of the best gifts the Drama League could have given. With no cell phones or e-mail and without the demands of daily life, it was amazing how much brain-space I felt opening up (which was good since I was essentially working on 4 different plays in the 4 days we were there). I can't remember the last time I was unplugged for so long. I loved it. Besides being unplugged, we also had open fresh air, amazing views, and an incredible chef cooking food fresh from the garden. A great reminder to me that taking time to savor the soul-feeding things in life is conducive to creativity. I know this already, but it's easy to forget when pounding the pavement in NYC. Being reminded to slow down and focus was an important part of the retreat for me.
Another perk of the trip was getting to know the other 3 directors in the fellowship a lot better. We downloaded about the long days of activities--what struck us about the day, what we are learning, what's shifting, what we are questioning. I realized how rare it is for directors to have that opportunity--to experience similar theatrical events and be able to talk about them. A simple thing, really, but often directors fly solo. At the retreat, there were 3 others living the experience with me and talking about it. It was refreshing.
After the retreat, we each headed in different directions. I am in NYC where I joined the rehearsal process for the NY premiere of Horton Foote's DIVIDING THE ESTATE which was already underway. I'm assisting the director Michael Wilson. . . .More on DTE later!
Gaye Taylor Upchurch
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I guess they need me after all . . .
Wow—I've hardly had a minute to reflect on all of the things that have happened in the last two weeks. The program started with an amazing dinner at one of New York's best restaraunts, 11 Madison. It was a chance for the four of us to spend some time together and get an idea about what was ahead of us—a week jam packed with meetings and visits to the theatre.
Throughout Wonder Week, what struck me again and again is the degree to which the theatre NEEDS directors with a clear point of view about what theatre can do and what makes a good story. From the outside of the business, it feels like four more young directors can add very little to the rich and varried world of the American Theatre. Time and time again, from artistic directors to agents, producers, writers, actors and designers it was made clear that without us, there's just a lot of busy-ness. On every level of the theatre, directors with passion and the ability to shape the theatre making experience provide every other discipline with the framework they need excel at their craft. Producers need directors with new and exciting ideas, designers need directors who can help them visually articulate the fantastic worlds in their heads, actors need directors to help them shape their performance and writers need us to keep our eye on the audience's experience. No play directs itself. Because there are so many plays being done all the time, all over the country, good directors are always in demand. After feeling for years that no one really needed me to do what I do, it was gratifying and invigorating to have that idea completely debunked.
Our retreat in the Berkshires was an even bigger confidence builder. For the first time in my life I had the opportunity to work on one of the great plays of our Western Canon, "Uncle Vanya" with actors who know a lot more than I do. The incredibly talented performers I worked with allowed me to focus on shaping the story, rather than on being an acting coach. Young directors often work with young and student actors, which is very rewarding in its own right. BUT, at least half your job is coaching. When something doesn't work, you're never sure that it's a directing problem. I've often felt that the actor I worked with just couldn't do what the play required. Not this time. Any wrinkle in the scene was about directing. What a gift! To know that all I had to do was be clear about what needed to happen in the scene and how I wanted to physicalize the action and—Voila—it would be there. The four of us (directors) are truly blessed to have had the opportunity to work with such a talented and generous copmpany of actors.
Now, off to the world of assisting. Yesterday was twelve hours of meetings and auditions at the Public for the upcoming 40th anniversary "Hair" concert. Today I'm off to observe the recently revamped "Seussical" prep for its first national tour. For the next week I'll be jumping between these two very different and wonderful projects . . . somebody pinch me because this can't be happening to me!
—Dan Rigazzi
Throughout Wonder Week, what struck me again and again is the degree to which the theatre NEEDS directors with a clear point of view about what theatre can do and what makes a good story. From the outside of the business, it feels like four more young directors can add very little to the rich and varried world of the American Theatre. Time and time again, from artistic directors to agents, producers, writers, actors and designers it was made clear that without us, there's just a lot of busy-ness. On every level of the theatre, directors with passion and the ability to shape the theatre making experience provide every other discipline with the framework they need excel at their craft. Producers need directors with new and exciting ideas, designers need directors who can help them visually articulate the fantastic worlds in their heads, actors need directors to help them shape their performance and writers need us to keep our eye on the audience's experience. No play directs itself. Because there are so many plays being done all the time, all over the country, good directors are always in demand. After feeling for years that no one really needed me to do what I do, it was gratifying and invigorating to have that idea completely debunked.
Our retreat in the Berkshires was an even bigger confidence builder. For the first time in my life I had the opportunity to work on one of the great plays of our Western Canon, "Uncle Vanya" with actors who know a lot more than I do. The incredibly talented performers I worked with allowed me to focus on shaping the story, rather than on being an acting coach. Young directors often work with young and student actors, which is very rewarding in its own right. BUT, at least half your job is coaching. When something doesn't work, you're never sure that it's a directing problem. I've often felt that the actor I worked with just couldn't do what the play required. Not this time. Any wrinkle in the scene was about directing. What a gift! To know that all I had to do was be clear about what needed to happen in the scene and how I wanted to physicalize the action and—Voila—it would be there. The four of us (directors) are truly blessed to have had the opportunity to work with such a talented and generous copmpany of actors.
Now, off to the world of assisting. Yesterday was twelve hours of meetings and auditions at the Public for the upcoming 40th anniversary "Hair" concert. Today I'm off to observe the recently revamped "Seussical" prep for its first national tour. For the next week I'll be jumping between these two very different and wonderful projects . . . somebody pinch me because this can't be happening to me!
—Dan Rigazzi
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wonders and Retreats
What is a "Wonder Week"?
When I was accepted into the Drama League Fall Directors Project, I was accused by friends of becoming a superhero, "Drama League? Are you fighting crime with theater?" and then when I told them about Wonder Week they were, "certain that this is when you are initiated into superherodom." Superhero or no, it felt like an initiation, in that we were admitted into a part of the theater world where I've never been invited before.
The Drama League gives a great gift to their fall directors by jam packing the first five days of the fellowship with meeting some very important people to whom we could ask questions and get advice. Most of these people are not people we could--or maybe would even know to--call and ask for a meeting, but here we were, not yet 24 hours after meeting each other, sitting at a table with a Broadway producer. That's quite a wonder.
There were so many valuable lessons I took away from that week. The topmost was the urging from all of these people--ranging from agents to producers--to be ourselves, and to speak passionately and articulately about our work. To hear that from people who are involved in the "business end" of theater was incredibly uplifiting. These people cared about the art. That made me feel so much more confident in what I have to offer, as I've often agonized about my ability to "work it". Now I know, in truth, there are many ways in which we directors need to meet people and "sell" our work. But now I also know that this selling can come from legitamate passion that I do have about what I do. I think that my work is important. And that's what other people need to know too.
Well--after the overwhelming week of wonders, we loaded into a van and retreated into the Birkshires to an old dairy farm that is now a retreat center in the woods. Our cellphones didn't work. We had no internet. It was fantastic. We ate amazing food and worked from the morning to the late night on our theatrical pursuits: directing two monologues, doing a practice production pitch, and directing a scene from Chekhov's Uncle Vanya.
Again, this retreat gave us directors another opportunity that we would not otherwise experience at this point in our career. We were given the most fantastic group of actors Roger could drum up for us. Not that these sort of statistics are the only way you can tell an actor is good, but all of the people we worked with had been on Broadway, major regional theaters, or major national tours. The were all so skilled and experienced that what they brought to the table was amazing. What I realized, while directing my Uncle Vanya scene (already dealing with complex material), was that my job had shifted. Rather than breaking down the scenes and guiding the actor through the material, as one does with younger, less experienced actors, I had a treasure trove of material that they were bringing to me. Their readings of the characters were complex and layered, and instead of pushing them in a direction, I suddenly had so many directions offered to me. This was overwhelming at first. Our work on the scene felt as though we opened door after door and at some point there were several open doors and I just had to decide which ones to shut, and which to walk through. And the actors trusted me, and walked through that door. Incredibly gratifiying. The work on all of the scenes at the retreat, scattered about the grounds and using the farm as our set design, were fantastic. There was great work done on this retreat. I will hold moments from these scenes in my memory forever.
All of that and so much more in just the first two weeks of the Drama League fellowship. Perhaps the other directors can fill in some of my blanks.
As for myself, I am now in Chapel Hill, North Carolina where I will be for the next 5 weeks Assistant Directing Romeo and Juliet for Davis McCallum, an alum of the Directors Project. I'll be sure to report in again!
-Joanie Schultz
When I was accepted into the Drama League Fall Directors Project, I was accused by friends of becoming a superhero, "Drama League? Are you fighting crime with theater?" and then when I told them about Wonder Week they were, "certain that this is when you are initiated into superherodom." Superhero or no, it felt like an initiation, in that we were admitted into a part of the theater world where I've never been invited before.
The Drama League gives a great gift to their fall directors by jam packing the first five days of the fellowship with meeting some very important people to whom we could ask questions and get advice. Most of these people are not people we could--or maybe would even know to--call and ask for a meeting, but here we were, not yet 24 hours after meeting each other, sitting at a table with a Broadway producer. That's quite a wonder.
There were so many valuable lessons I took away from that week. The topmost was the urging from all of these people--ranging from agents to producers--to be ourselves, and to speak passionately and articulately about our work. To hear that from people who are involved in the "business end" of theater was incredibly uplifiting. These people cared about the art. That made me feel so much more confident in what I have to offer, as I've often agonized about my ability to "work it". Now I know, in truth, there are many ways in which we directors need to meet people and "sell" our work. But now I also know that this selling can come from legitamate passion that I do have about what I do. I think that my work is important. And that's what other people need to know too.
Well--after the overwhelming week of wonders, we loaded into a van and retreated into the Birkshires to an old dairy farm that is now a retreat center in the woods. Our cellphones didn't work. We had no internet. It was fantastic. We ate amazing food and worked from the morning to the late night on our theatrical pursuits: directing two monologues, doing a practice production pitch, and directing a scene from Chekhov's Uncle Vanya.
Again, this retreat gave us directors another opportunity that we would not otherwise experience at this point in our career. We were given the most fantastic group of actors Roger could drum up for us. Not that these sort of statistics are the only way you can tell an actor is good, but all of the people we worked with had been on Broadway, major regional theaters, or major national tours. The were all so skilled and experienced that what they brought to the table was amazing. What I realized, while directing my Uncle Vanya scene (already dealing with complex material), was that my job had shifted. Rather than breaking down the scenes and guiding the actor through the material, as one does with younger, less experienced actors, I had a treasure trove of material that they were bringing to me. Their readings of the characters were complex and layered, and instead of pushing them in a direction, I suddenly had so many directions offered to me. This was overwhelming at first. Our work on the scene felt as though we opened door after door and at some point there were several open doors and I just had to decide which ones to shut, and which to walk through. And the actors trusted me, and walked through that door. Incredibly gratifiying. The work on all of the scenes at the retreat, scattered about the grounds and using the farm as our set design, were fantastic. There was great work done on this retreat. I will hold moments from these scenes in my memory forever.
All of that and so much more in just the first two weeks of the Drama League fellowship. Perhaps the other directors can fill in some of my blanks.
As for myself, I am now in Chapel Hill, North Carolina where I will be for the next 5 weeks Assistant Directing Romeo and Juliet for Davis McCallum, an alum of the Directors Project. I'll be sure to report in again!
-Joanie Schultz
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Welcome to the Fall Directors Blog
Welcome to the Directors Project blog for the 2007 Fall Program!
The Drama League Directors Project is dedicated to helping directors in the beginning stages of their professional lives develop their directing skills and build full-time careers in the world of American Theatre. This fall, four young directors are assisting on productions in New York City and across the country, then returning to direct their own one-act play in an Off-Broadway Equity LOA producion. From August through December they will eat, sleep, and breathe directing. This blog is an opportunity for them to share their adventures during (and prior to) their time with the program. We hope you, and they, enjoy the ride.
This year's summer directors are:
D. Wambui Richardson
Daniel Rigazzi
Joanie Schultz
Gaye Taylor Upchurch
The Drama League Directors Project is dedicated to helping directors in the beginning stages of their professional lives develop their directing skills and build full-time careers in the world of American Theatre. This fall, four young directors are assisting on productions in New York City and across the country, then returning to direct their own one-act play in an Off-Broadway Equity LOA producion. From August through December they will eat, sleep, and breathe directing. This blog is an opportunity for them to share their adventures during (and prior to) their time with the program. We hope you, and they, enjoy the ride.
This year's summer directors are:
D. Wambui Richardson
Daniel Rigazzi
Joanie Schultz
Gaye Taylor Upchurch
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