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.
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