Hometown: I was born in Charleston, West Virginia. However, I grew up outside of Tampa, Florida. I pretty much think of my hometown as the town where my present home is, which is...
Current Town: ...Kennebunk, Maine
Q: Tell me about Many Mansions.
A: Many Mansions is the twilight of the gods, a miracle play, a sex farce, and the redemption of God with a teardrop. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Q: What else are you working on now? Where can I read your comic strips?
A: Most of the time, I'm working on my strips, "Pibgorn" and "9 Chickweed Lane." Because they are, by their nature, narrative rather than gag-a-day strips, they are as close to stage plays or screenplays as one can get with a pencil. I have written a screenplay for a story I created in Chickweed called "Edie Ernst, USO Singer - Allied Spy," which, despite the derring-do implicit in the title, is really a kind of epic love story. It is under option for screen realization. You can find both "Pibgorn" and "9 Chickweed Lane" at http://www.gocomics.com/pibgorn and http://www.gocomics.com/9chickweedlane. Chickweed also appears a innumerable newspapers here and abroad.
Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a artist or as a person.
A: I can't think of one, really. I've been drawing cartoons, obsessively, since I can remember. I suppose that would say all that can be said.
Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?
A: I wish that it weren't a place where a standing ovation is no more significant than an occasion for some well-deserved stretching and scratching. If the occasion onstage is something that brings me to my feet, it would mean so much more if the rest of the audience weren't already there fumbling in their overcoat pockets for their train tickets and yawning.
Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?
A: Shakespeare for poetry, Shaw for argument, Terence Rattigan for empathy, Noel Coward for Noel Coward.
Q: What kind of theater excites you?
A: Telling a story absolutely wonderfully - not grinding an axe instead.
Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?
A: The trait that separates human beings from other animals is not the opposable thumb; it is that we tell stories -- in theater, cinema, newspaper comics, comic books, around water coolers. It is what we are as creatures. Look in any bible, at any prehistoric cave-wall painting, at any two people sitting on a front porch. Stories are related as soon as the human mouth opens, to give directions, to complain to a cop, to lie to an electorate. In writing a play, your opinions are not half so interesting as the story that leads the audience to be hushed and coughless while you're telling it. Learn how to tell it well. And don't congratulate yourself over your opposable thumb.
here are two short scenes I had to cut from my play Sarah. They were very funny in the reading but they are getting in the way of what the play wants to be. Sometimes too much meta is too much.
THE PLAYWRIGHT –
TRACK ONE, SCENE FIVE
(THE PLAYWRIGHT accosts SARAH and THE GUIDE)
PLAYWRIGHT
Hi, sorry.Can we
talk for a minute.
THE
GUIDE
This is the playwright.
PLAYWRIGHT
Hi.I just wanted to
give you some insight into the character of Sarah.I don’t think you’re quite nailing it
yet.I’ve seen a lot of Sarahs now.But I don’t want to get in the way of your process
so if you want me to back off just say so.
SARAH
(Her choice)
PLAYWRIGHT
Right.Right.Let me just say the thoughts Sarah has are
unlike everyone else.She oozes
creativity.And as she went through
life, people tried to beat it out of her, metaphorically, not physically but
that didn’t get rid of it though it dimmed it for a time.She was a genius but tried to hide her
genius and then, you know, she died too soon.I have this image in my mind of her as a child discovering her power for
the first time—She’s in a pool and there’s a lot of light—like too much
light--actually maybe that’s not helpful.Forget that.I never said
that.Can you forget that?So stupid.You know what, no, okay, if you can play down to earth but also like in
the clouds.Cause she’s mysterious but
you feel like you’ve known her all your life.So there’s that familiarity but also there’s part of her that’s
completely unknowable that belongs only to her, you know?She’s not like the rest of us, you know.She’s super charismatic.So do that too.Just be like, more.Okay?It’s hard, I know because there’s only one Sarah and she’s like not like
the rest of us so it’s hard to play that but just think of like Jesus Christ or
like Lady Gaga.Like if Lady Gaga was
charismatic. You know what I mean?Like
a movie star but with a real inner life.Smarter than a movie star.But no
less beautiful.A mind like a
laser.Got it?
SARAH
(Her choice)
PLAYWRIGHT
Okay.I’ve said too
much.I shouldn’t talk to the
actors.Can we take her the alternate
way?Let’s change it up.I think take her the other way it’ll work
better, okay?
THE
GUIDE
I don’t know.
PLAYWRIGHT
She can handle it.
THE
GUIDE
I don’t want to mess up the schedule.
PLAYWRIGHT
If there’s a problem, I’ll take the heat.
THE
GUIDE
I don’t really care about that.
PLAYWRIGHT
It’ll be better.You
can see that, can’t you?
THE
GUIDE
I have to take care of her.She’s my responsibility.You can
just sit in your ivory tower and watch.
PLAYWRIGHT
Ivory tower?
THE
GUIDE
Yeah.
PLAYWRIGHT
Are you talking about Juilliard?Okay, yes I went to Juilliard.It was amazing.So what?A lot of people went to good schools.
THE
GUIDE
You have it with you?
PLAYWRIGHT
The diploma?Yes,
okay I carry around my diploma from The Juilliard School.Lots of people do that.It’s nothing.It’s not weird.(to SARAH)Do you want to see it?
SARAH
(Her choice)
(PLAYWRIGHT
takes it out.)
PLAYWRIGHT
It’s beautiful.So
crisp.A work of art.I’m going to take it with me.
THE
GUIDE
You can’t take the diploma.When you die, it stays here.
PLAYWRIGHT
Yeah, but I’m going to take it with me.
THE
GUIDE
Okay but you can’t.
PLAYWRIGHT
I’m proud of it.Is
that a sin?
THE
GUIDE
I mean yeah, in the Judo-Christian—
PLAYWRIGHT
That’s not—
THE
GUIDE
I mean, you asked.
PLAYWRIGHT
I’m not in an ivory tower.I resent that.
THE
GUIDE
Sometimes I hurt people’s feelings.
PLAYWRIGHT
I’m an artist.Okay,
I don’t always come see the play.But
I’m making other art.I’m busy.Doing important things.God’s work.
THE
GUIDE
God’s work?!God’s
work?!!It’s just a play.
PLAYWRIGHT
It’s not just a play.
THE
GUIDE
What I do is important.What you do . . . I don’t know.
PLAYWRIGHT
Well, that’s bullshit but whatever.I have to go to my other job.Ivory tower!Fucking ivory tower!!Are you
going to go the alternate way?Go the
alternate way.You want to go the other
way, don’t you?
SARAH
(her choice)
PLAYWRIGHT
Good luck, with your Sarah.Oh!You know what?Channel Meryl Streep.
(PLAYWRIGHT exits.THE GUIDE and
SARAH continue their journey.)
SCRIPTED --TRACK
TWO, SCENE THREE
(DIRECTOR accosts SARAH and THE GUIDE.PLAYWRIGHT hides behind director.)
THE GUIDE
Oh! The
director.(THE GUIDE is not happy about this)
DIRECTOR
(to SARAH)
What are you doing?You’re not supposed to go off script.It’s all planned very carefully.The playwright wrote a bunch of stuff down in a room once and that’s the
stuff we’re doing, right?
PLAYWRIGHT
Right.
DIRECTOR
So we don’t appreciate you making stuff up when you’re not
supposed to make stuff up.
PLAYWRIGHT
We don’t appreciate that.
DIRECTOR
We don’t want you to ruin the experience for the audience.
PLAYWRIGHT
Don’t ruin the play.Everybody’s always trying to ruin my play.The actors and the directors and the
designers.And then it’s all my fault.It’s not my fault.Everybody thinks it’s my fault.
DIRECTOR
No one blames you.
PLAYWRIGHT
Everyone does.Just
please don’t ruin my play, okay?
DIRECTOR
Can you do that?
PLAYWRIGHT
Can you?
DIRECTOR
Can you?
PLAYWRIGHT
Can you?
THE
GUIDE
I’m sorry.
(Enter FREE WILL in bondage gear, perhaps being led in on a leash.)
WILL
Don’t pay any attention to them.
PLAYWRIGHT
Will, this doesn’t concern you.
DIRECTOR
It’s not about you.
WILL
You do what you want to do.
DIRECTOR
Will!
WILL
My name isn’t just Will.It’s Free Will.I’m called Free
Will because of how free I am with my body and my favors.
DIRECTOR
You don’t exist!
PLAYWRIGHT
Get back in your cage!In your cage!
THE
GUIDE
Sorry about this.
WILL
I am free.I am freer
than you will ever be!You do what you
want, Sarah or whatever your name is.Don’t be penned in by the man.
PLAYWRIGHT
Stop it, Will.You
always ruin everything.
WILL
We are free.We are
all free.Don’t let anyone tell you how
to be, who to be, how to act.Don’t give
in to societal pressures.Ignore your
culture.Be you who you are
completely.If you want to be naked, be
naked.People will deal with it.
PLAYWRIGHT
Please don’t take off your clothes.Everyone leave your clothes on.It isn’t that kind of show.
WILL
It can be.It can be
whatever kid of show you want.
DIRECTOR
Okay, can we table this?
WILL
No.
THE
GUIDE
I’m sorry.
(THE GUIDE starts to lead SARAH off.)
WILL
Let’s take acid.
DIRECTOR
Oh my God.Get back
in your cage.
WILL
I’m calling Equity!
(THE GUIDE lead SARAH off.)
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A: SLIVER OF A FULL MOON is the story of a movement that achieved the inclusion of a tribal jurisdiction provision in the 2013 re-authorization of VAWA and restored tribal sovereignty to Indian tribes to prosecute non-natives who commit crimes against Native women on tribal lands. In 1978, the Supreme Court decided that Indian tribes no longer had jurisdiction to prosecute non-natives who commit crimes on reservations. The story is told from the perspective of Native women survivors, who join professional actors on stage to tell their real-life stories. www.sliverofafullmoon.org
Q: What else are you working on now?
A: I am continuously re-writing MANAHATTA. The workshop production this past May at the PUBLIC gave me an amazing opportunity to learn about the play in a way I never imaged possible, and now I am doing my best to make sure I incorporate everything I learned into the script!
Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.
A: My grandmother loved to tell stories. As a child, I spent my summers escaping the Oklahoma heat inside her living room, listening to her stories. Of all the stories she told me, three's one that remains firmly implanted in my mind. Whenever she would tell this story, her faces would swell with pride. She would gesture to the photos of the two men that hung permanently affixed to her wall. The two men, Major Ridge and John Ridge, my grandmother explained, were my great-grandfathers. John Ridge was her great-grandfather, and Major Ridge his father.
In 1832, President Andrew Jackson was trying to exterminate our people. My grandfathers, along with Principal Chief John Ross, took the Cherokee Nation's case all the way to the Supreme Court. Together, they demanded justice. And as a result of their efforts, Chief Justice Marshall issued his decision declaring the Cherokee Nation to be a sovereign nation with the right to exist within its own borders. President Jackson, however, refused to enforce the Supreme Court's decision.
Instead, President Jackson forced my people to walk along the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma-- where my grandmother told me this story. Along the way, more than 4000 Cherokee died. When my family arrived in this strange new land we now call Oklahoma, fellow Cherokee brutally assassinated my grandfathers. Because they failed to fight for the Cherokee to stay in their ancestral homeland until the very end (and in the end agreed sign a treaty with President Jackson and go peacefully to Oklahoma)-- they were considered traitors. Today they are buried just a few rows down from my grandmother in the Cherokee Cemetery on the northeastern edge of the Cherokee Nation reservation.
Someday, I will be buried in the same cemetery, next to my grandmother and my grandfathers. until then, I will work tirelessly to write and create Native theater until the racial stereotypes President Jackson used to promote the genocide of my people are fully eradicated from the American stage. We are not there yet- but I won't stop until we are.
Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?
A: The lack of Native theater that created by authentic Native voices. When will we see Native plays produced that are written by Native playwrights?! What will it take to put the original possessors of this soil on the American stage? (and I mean, MORE than just a staged reading or workshop production!)
Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?
A: Paula Vogel first and foremost. I had the chance to meet her in person a couple of years ago and I actually started crying--which was unexpected and very embarrassing. But she handled it very graciously and gave me a hug!
Also: William Yellowrobe, Caryl Churchill, Diane Glancy, Theresa Rebeck, and Sam Sheppard.
Q: What kind of theater excites you?
A: Theater that doesn't merely perpetuate ideas or stereotypes we've already seen. Theater that challenges our socially constructed collective consciousness.
Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?
A: Write and write and write and write. Write thru the bullshit and never give up. That's the only way to get to the good stuff! And if you read the plays you love and ask yourself, what does this playwright do well that I could also do well? I learned how to write plays from reading the works of all the folks listed in the answer to the question above.
A: It's a satirical exploration of the life of a young Playwright, Sutter. He is Black and Gay and it follows a non linear path through short scenes or playlets several of which was written over many years and now formed into an abstract narrative.
Q: What else are you working on now?
A: I'm finishing a rewrite of my play called Zombie: The American which is a dystopian satire set in 2063 with the first Gay President facing a second civil war and Zombies in the basement of the White House. It will have its world premiere at Woolly Mammoth Theater in DC this coming Spring. I'm also workshopping a new play of mine called Barbecue, about a crazy family performing an Intervention at a Barbecue.
Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.
A: When I was probably in the third grade, my ink pen burst in my pants and the boys said I had gotten my period and I didn't know what they meant and when I got home I asked my mother what a period was and she looked at me dumb founded and then said, "Look it up, that's what I bought you that dictionary for."
Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?
A: The price of a Ticket.
Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?
A: Lorraine Hansberry, George C. Wolfe, Tony Kushner, Edward Albee, Caryl Churchill, Suzan-Lori Parks.
Q: What kind of theater excites you?
A: Bold and Adventurous.
Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?
A: Go see plays. Learn what is being done. Then do something different.
A: Good Enough is about the anxiety that surfaces when we care too much what other people think. It's something that I've personally struggled with, and when I realized that I wasn't alone in my need for approval from others, I thought it would be a good subject for a show. Showbiz folk or not, people have told me they relate to this problem. They might be getting married to the wrong person out of expectation, or going into credit card debt because they want their wardrobe to turn heads. Or they might buckle under the pressure in an audition room. I think worrying what people think of you affects many of us without even realizing it, and my personal twist on it was a bit of a paradox. I was being so good, so nice, and so ambitious in so many areas of my life, which people tout as a social virtue. But I was still losing. I was trying to avoid judgment and condemnation from others, and giving up my full authenticity in the process. And I finally said to myself, "That's too big a price to pay. I have to be ME!!" I love that this piece allows me to be so truthful. I hope that people might see themselves in me, and realize that embracing your whole self, including your flaws, can create a sense of healing and wholeness.
There are so many firsts for me associated with this project: I'm performing my own writing. In a solo performance. At Theatre Row. In a festival that picked me!! Kira Simring from the cell is my director, and she's so smart and so dedicated to the piece. I'm also working with David Palmer, a lighting/projection designer who is adding a lot of panache to the storytelling.
Q: What else are you working on now?
A: This has been a year of creating my own work, and my own opportunities. I started to become a little disillusioned with the business (maybe we all go through phases like that), and thought, "I can't just be about kick-ball-change anymore. I want my work to really say something, to really mean something, and hopefully shift people's thinking, not simply entertain." I wrote a cabaret that I performed in earlier this year, which touches on themes of bullying. It was really well received, and I'd like to do it again. And I'm working to give Good Enough more life beyond United Solo.
Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.
A: I started performing as a little kid. 5 years old. I grew up with a family that had a professional magic act. My Dad is a member of the Society of American Magicians, and everyone in my family was recruited: my mom, my older brother, and me. I think about it now, and it's all just crazy to me!! The grand illusion we did was called the Metamorphosis Trunk, which appeared to be completely empty, but in the blink of an eye, I would appear inside and get hoisted out of the trunk for the show's grand finale, while I waved an American Flag. 5 years old. Talk about applause!! I still have memories of red, white, and blue footlights.
I've had dreams of performing my whole life - but only gave myself permission to call myself an actor after my family saw me perform in a national tour of the King and I, where I went on for the lead. Part of that story is in Good Enough, but I remember being on the bus the next day, looking out the window, and saying to myself, "I am an ACTOR." Almost like I was coming out to myself. I had been performing for almost a year, getting paid for it, but I needed my family's approval to seal the deal so badly. I actually used to be really embarrassed about it, a la, "Why couldn't I make this decision on my own?!!" Good Enough shares the journey I took to detangle my need for approval away from my pure love of the work.
Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?
A: The pricing. It's outrageous, and makes theatre elitist. Theatre should be, in general, much more accessible to all. One of the things I love about my festival, United Solo, is that tickets are very affordable, around $20.
Q: Plugs, please:
A: Good Enough runs for three performances at United Solo: September 22 @ 9pm, October 5 @7:30pm, and October 7 @ 9pm. A few of these shows are almost sold out, so get your tickets ASAP via Telecharge at 212-239-6200. Also, my website is MatthewLaBanca.com, if you want to read my blog or follow me on social media. Thanks for reading!
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A: For Articulate Theatre Company's Articulating the Arts, the painting I chose was Van Gogh's "Starry Starry Night." My play IN THE BEGINNING... riffs on one of an endless number of stories the painting inspires. It's not only one sky over one landscape in one moment. Stare at that Van Gogh sky long enough and your head spins. Inside my spin-cycle head the world whirred back to before the beginning of time. Time as we know it is a human invention, so I was presented with timeless characters on the outer edges of space. Take it from there, Ms. Playwright. Thank you, Mr. Van Gogh.
Q: What else are you working on now?
A: In addition to one-act plays and the always tedious task of submitting scripts to potential producers, I'm in the midst of work on a number of full length plays. GENTLY DOWN THE STREAM began as a one-person, one act (LISTEN! THE RIVER) with a run in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. There are upcoming readings of the now five-actor, full length in September and November with the Town Players of Pittsfield (MA) and in New York (directed by Wendy Peace) under the auspices of the League of Professional Theatre Women. Our guide through the story of GENTLY is a cat. It's a true story about loving, letting go and learning to love again. I'm also very excited to begin rehearsals on LOLA AND THE PLANET OF GLORIOUS DIVERSITY with Marcus Yi as director/choreographer. We'll be collaborating to infuse the poetic play with movement, aiming toward a workshop production in NYC in March. LOLA begins after the world has been devastated by war. A group of young people are all who remain to build a new world. I'm also working with director Bricken Sparacino on EVERYDAY EDNA MAE which was just accepted into the Frigid Festival in NYC after development thanks to Emerging Artists Theatre and my playwriting group Manhattan Oracles. EDNA MAE will be on stage in February. I have just started sending LUST & LIES to potential producers. This play was inspired by the true crime novel "The Murder of Dr. Chapman" by Linda Wolfe (1831, a scandalous murder in rural Pennsylvania). I challenged myself to write a three-character, one setting play and this is it. Finally, right now I'm about to begin draft 2 of MARGIE, a large-cast, all female, wildly imaginative, wacky and funny yet painfully real play that takes a look at body image. Did I say I'm also a writing cohort with America-in-Play? Okay, now I want a nap.
Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.
A: Images from my childhood: Mom's gardens, backyard view of Mt. Greylock, riot of autumns, sparkle of New England winters, the new Clark Art Institute filled with Impressionists. One story is rising to the top. I'm 10. A July Sunday. My family is visiting friends with a farm in South Williamstown. While the parents sit around doing boring grownup things involving beer and talk, I'm charged with taking care of my two younger sisters. The kids and I visit the horses in the meadow. Dodie is horse crazy, so that's all she wants to do. I wander off toward the Green River with Pip padding behind. It's over a hill, not far. I remember looking down a steep bank, holding Pip's hand, watching the cool water ripple past, imagining how incredible it would feel on my itchy ankles. I settle Pip on a rock with a stick to dig in the dirt, take off my sneakers and sweaty socks, sit on the bank. I swear I was just going to sit there. Is it my fault the bank turned out to be clay? Like a seal on a slide, I slipped down and landed plop in the water. Oh my God it felt good! But even better was the clay. A whole section of bank was gray-green, slick, perfect clay. Much more enticing than the plastic-wrapped stuff in the toy section at Woolworth's. It was impossible to climb up the slippery part of the bank so I ran down river, clambered up, ran back and started digging. Pip was soon helping. Dodie heard our shrieks and came to join in. The cold clay yielded before young fingers -- squishy heaven! I took off my shirt and got my sisters to do the same. We piled as much clay as we could onto our shirts and dragged them over the field, circumventing cow patties and horses, back to the house. I don't remember the looks on the adults' faces when we three appeared, semi-nude, covered in clay, grinning ear-to-ear. I don't remember what punishment I got as the big sister who let the little ones go near the river. I don't remember what sculptures I made with that particular clay. But I vividly remember the colors of that summer afternoon, the feel and smell of the clay, and the joy of creating with it. That was only the first batch of Green River clay for me, but it sums up the feeling of many years of making art. After a career as a fine art printmaker I segued into playwriting, but those early Berkshire Hills days are embossed on my brain. Color and movement, sound and light are as important as the human characters in my plays.
Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?
A: It would be more democratic. (People wouldn't have to pay so much to see it. Playwrights wouldn't have to go to the "right" schools to gain the attention of producers. Our government would help considerably more so producers wouldn't have to spend all their energy searching out private donors.)
Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?
A: Thornton Wilder, August Wilson, Caryl Churchill, Mary Zimmerman, Tennessee Williams, The Greeks of course, Naomi Wallace, Annie Baker, Connie Congdon, Looking for Lilith in Louisville (movement!), New Georges (scramble time!), Ping Chong, Elevator Repair Service, Terrell Alvin McCraney and his infusion of rhythm into his words. So many others I'll think of the minute this is over...
Q: What kind of theater excites you?
A: I'm a stickler for structure. Pretty much every good play has, for me, the elements: MDQ, conflict, dramatic action, crisis point, journeys for the characters, etc. So the best of theater -- the plays that excite me -- have basic structure but they're not neat. The bones don't show. They're definitely not boring. They're messy and creative. And they're about something that sticks in my mind long after blackout. I love theater that has fun with time, movement, and unfenced space. I love plays that grab my heart, squeeze it, and make it bleed or sing.
Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?
A: Learn basic structure and don't forget it, but then tuck it away and allow yourself to soar.
Q: Plugs, please:
A: Watch for EVERYDAY EDNA MAE in the Frigid Festival and a workshop production of LOLA AND THE PLANET OF GLORIOUS DIVERSITY in early 2015. My play about NY Victorian photographer Alice Austen, ALICE IN BLACK AND WHITE, will be coming to NYC in 2016 with Looking for Lilith Theatre Company. I have synopses of all my plays at www.dramamama.net. I'm always happy to send a script to producers for consideration.
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