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Gideon Productions presents The Blueprint Project, a unique spin on that beloved old workhorse, the evening of short plays. We picked four diverse playwrights (Mac Rogers, August Schulenburg, Crystal Skillman & Catherine Trieschmann) with distinctive voices, styles and predilections, and we provided them with this plot:
A Body lies on a bed. A Longstanding Friend surreptitiously examines the body. The Spouse enters and confronts the Friend. They argue until the Coworker enters to announce that the Medium will arrive soon. One of the three tries very hard and almost succeeds in convincing the others to stop the Medium from coming. Two of them have a confrontation that injures the third. The Medium enters and animates the body, which reveals the secret. Someone tries to leave. Others try to stop the departure.
Even though the writers all worked from the same blueprint, the results are astonishingly varied. We've got a modern reimagining of Shakespeare's A Winter's Tale, a Sci-Fi thriller, a comedic reunion of the "Fab Four of Psychictry" and a blank verse exploration of a messianic cult. Each piece is wonderful on its own merits and the evening as a whole is a fascinating glimpse into the writers' process.
Directors John Hurley and Jordana Williams have assembled an amazing cast, featuring Clay Adams*, Claire Alpern, Jason Howard*, Erin Jerozal, Tom Knutson, Anna Kull, David Ian Lee*, Rob Maitner*, Michelle O'Connor, Alex Pappas*, Vinnie Penna*, Zack Robidas, Vanessa Shealy*, Isaiah Tanenbaum, Jennifer Gordon Thomas and Cotton Wright*
*appearing courtesy of Actors' Equity Association
We hope you'll join us! Seating is limited, so we recommend purchasing your tickets in advance:
The Blueprint Project, Part I: The Medium
Wednesday April 30-Sunday May 4 @ 8pm
Total Running Time: about 90 minutes
Tickets $15-http://www.theatermania.com/content/show.cfm/show/143351
The Puffin Room-435 Broome Street
R/W to Prince St., 6 to Spring St., B/D/F/V to B'way/Lafayette
www.blueprintplays.com
Alongside the review of How Theater Failed America, I hope you will also take note of the rave NYT review of Catherine Trieschmann's Crooked. Catherine has been a friend of mine since college, and I was lucky enough to see this play for the first time at a reading in an Inwood apartment, and then on several occasions since. It's a superb, exquisite play about faith and adolescence and generational struggle, and it's a pretty major and awesome thing to see it get this level of recognition. See it if you get a chance.
--SlowLearner
This week I would like to announce my two new upcoming projects, but since one of them involves an acting role for me, today I'd like to talk about one of my long-held theories of acting. This theory was not devised during my early days as an actor, but rather from my experience as a playwright sitting in a rehearsal room.
(This is an experience I tend to dislike, as it's boring. The better the process is going, the more boring it is. If the process is going badly, it's less boring, and is horrible instead. All in all, I would rather never be in a rehearsal in which I don't have an active role, unless it's to watch the occasional runthrough and give the director my thoughts after everyone else has gone home.)
My theory, practiced to my satisfaction for years, has been this: always try just doing what the director says first.
I know there are a lot of people who disagree with this. There's an increasing number of people who are expressing the feeling that directors have become dictators in the creative process of making theater. Some go further, saying that directors are either no longer necessary or that they were never necessary, just an artificial imposition created a century and a half ago that needs to be dispensed with now.
My intention here is not to speak to the historical argument, but to speak to my own experience. As a writer/producer, I am frequently in a position of authority on my projects. I regard this as a necessity in order to be sure that 1) projects with my name on them are executed at a level of quality that honors the audience's investment of money and time, and 2) plays with my name on them properly express what I wish them to express in at least their initial production.
I don't usually like being in charge. It stresses me out. And noting stresses me out more than being a director. It was a measure of the specificity of my vision for Universal Robots that I chose to be the director of such a complicated play. I don't usually like the feeling of walking into a rehearsal room full of people waiting for me to tell them what to do . I don't like being the one who has to think about every aspect of a project, the one who never gets a break. With Robots, my need to implement certain aspects of my vision my own way overcame my natural aversion to directing, but that's rare for me, and I don't expect to direct again for a while.
All of this to say that when I'm an actor on someone else's play, I revel in the feeling of not being charge. I particularly enjoy the feeling of burying myself in another playwright's voice, and embodying a director's vision. I was recently in plays by the writers Dan Trujillo and Ed Malin, both of whom write quite differently than I do, so I had to read their scripts aloud to myself again and again until I could get their voices in my head and dampen down my own. The joy is in the abdication of self in favor of the voice of another. (With James Comtois, it's a little different; James and I have similar playwriting sensibilities and styles, so I frequently understand how to approach his material as an actor on a first or second read.)
Now, to get back to my thesis: if a director tells me to play a moment in a certain way, I always do it, not matter to what degree I agree or disagree. I always try to carry out the direction as specifically and intensely as I can, and then go from there. I do this even if I think the direction is completely wrong. Why do I do this, instead of arguing? Because if I just play the moment as directed, even though I think the direction is wrong, here are the things that might happen:
1) Upon playing the moment, I'll realize I was wrong and the direction is in fact appropriate and right.
2) The result of my following the direction will be so clearly bad that the director will retract the direction.
3) The result of my following the direction will be obviously partially wrong, and the director and I will collaborate to use that partial wrongness as a starting point to seek out the right choice.
4) The direction will turn out to be one in a series of experimental options being explored by the director to find the right choice for the moment.
5) The direction will be wrong, and my playing of it will reveal this, but unlike in the first four possible scenarios, the director is not very talented, and will never realize that the choice is wrong. If the director is bad, then the production will be bad, at which point I can either commit to the flawed aesthetic of the production or quit.
The one thing I never, ever do is argue the choice before trying it once. I have, as a playwright, watched actors do this in rehearsal, and it maddens me. Partly this is because I don't like to talk much in rehearsal. I like to try a scene, physically, in a whole bunch of ways, and try to find the right choices with my voice and body rather than in my mind. The audience will process my character's choices through watching my body and hearing my voice. They can't read my mind.
Also, while I do trust my instincts, I only trust them so far. If a choice I'm making feels organically right to me, but someone watching me - someone I have reason to trust - tells me that it's not playing right, my experience as a playwright sitting uselessly in a corner teaches me that 99 times out of 100, the person watching has a better sense of what's going on. It's very easy to get lost as an actor. It's easy to mistake certain chemical rushes inside your brain and body telling you this choice feels right or this choice feels wrong as authoritative. On stage, as in life, it's very difficult to see yourself, to know how your actions are registering to others. In rehearsal, you have someone helping you with that.
I think also that there are some actors - a minority, thank goodness - who for whatever reason automatically regard direction as oppressive and demeaning, a challenge to their intelligence, dignity, and agency as human beings. These actors will then argue every single direction (and in the process eat away countless invaluable minutes of rehearsal time) because they feel like if they don't, they are being diminished in some way - that they will be seen as being "wrong," or being "corrected" in some way.
It's important to state that what I'm writing here comes from anecdotal experience. I've been fortunate in most of my experiences with directors. I do know of tyrannical and/or incompetent directors. The minute a tyrannical and/or incompetent director is assigned to a production, that production is doomed, unless they're fired. Nothing can save a show from a bad director.
But I would dispute the idea that a director can't be both collaborative and have a firm hand. The director's I've worked with have been totally open to ideas in rehearsal, wherever they come from. Where the firm hand comes in is that I believe the director has to be the one with final call over which of those ideas make it into the show.
But anyway, back to my thesis - I think actors should always just try the direction first. Just do it, full out, don't sabotage it, just commit to it, full on, as if you believe in it, whether you do or not. Try it first. And then take it from there.
--SlowLearner
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