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
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
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
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