I Interview Playwrights Part 523: Steve J. Spencer

Steve J. Spencer

Hometown: Dayton, OH

Current Town: Chicago, IL

Q: What are you working on now?

A: Couple of plays. One is about a brilliant fourteen-year-old girl being slowly crushed by our culture. Another is about a suicidal game show host. Another is a Winesburg, OH rip-off about bath salts and squatters. Doing readings of three other plays, too.

Q: How would you characterize the Chicago theater scene?

A: Inaccurately. There seems to be a hierarchy, a strict food chain of who is cool and successful and who is beneath contempt. But once you climb the ladder to the next level, you're left puzzled: there seems to be a hierarchy on that level, too, made up of a strict food chain and hapless losers. I suspect the next level up is like that as well. An illusion of class and status at each level, when in reality, we're just a bunch of people contorting ourselves into what we think are appropriate postures. Sure, some people on higher levels shit on you, and some are decent, unpretentious folk. Mostly, we've replicated the same bullshit status system we became artists to escape from, primarily because it's ingrained in us by age four. It is a persistent illusion. And most of us know it. Yet we still act like it's real. Or at least I do.

Oh, and someone said Hollywood is like high school with money. Theater is like high school without money. Bullshit status we know is false but are too afraid to disregard.

And the cool kids in the theater cafeteria deserve our compassion as well.

Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A: Okay. My dad is the best man alive. Kind. Funny. Has worked himself to death his whole life. Growing up, something unfair happened, something that was not his fault. We almost lost him because of it. I was young and I couldn't figure out how such a decent man, a real Father, could be destroyed for doing nothing wrong. It didn't so much as leave me with a sense that life was unfair, it left me with a sense that our way of life is insane. It doesn't work. Look around. Not working. And at the heart of it is inequality.

Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A: Fire Chris Jones. Seriously. He can't write, and he can't write because his taste sucks so he spends the majority of his reviews trying to justify his own taste. It's gotten to the point where he cannot successfully describe the plot of a play because he lacks conviction in his own taste. Which is his only job. His authority is just another illusion, like the theater hierarchy or like money; if we don't believe in him, he'll go away. If he were fired all the church bells in Chicago would ring forever.

Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A: William Sayoran, John Osborne, lots of people. But nobody has influenced me more as a writer than my dad. A kind human.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: I want to see theater about something. It doesn't have to be political. It doesn't have to be about a social problem. That'd be nice, considering we're going to shit, but it doesn't even have to be about love. Tell me something that you have to tell me. I often leave the theater and go home and read, say, Milan Kundera and get really sad. I pick up Kundera and he tells me about his life. He tells me what it was like to be a human at his point in existence. He tells me something human. The difference between reading Kundera and seeing most plays is shocking. Most of the plays I see tell me nothing. And not every play has to be about something; it can just be about itself, it can just be entertaining. That's fine. But we have plenty of entertainment. Tell me something that it will kill you not to say.

Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A: Art will not save you. Your career will not save you. It will not keep you warm at night. I wish teachers would tell us that. Art is not the most important thing in the world. It's not more important than the people in your life. That's all you have. I've learned that the hard way.

Other than that, you are free to do whatever you want. If an AD says "we can't do that," please remind him or her that we can and should do whatever the hell we want. "We can't do that." Wrong. We're free. To do whatever the hell we want. You could punch your boss, God won't stop you. You could even produce an unmarketable play.

Oh, and take the traditional trajectory to becoming a playwright (school, MFA, connections, form company). It's a clear-cut path. Just try to say something while you're at it.

I hope I don't come off as too bitter. Eh. So be it. I'm nice in person. Where it counts.

Q: Plugs, please:

A: at the Chicago Dramatists: January 12 ­ Annual Showcase of the NEW Resident Playwrights
FLOATER by Stuart Flack
EARTHQUAKE CHICA by Anne García-Romero
A WORK OF ART by Elaine Romero
INVISIBLE THERAPY FOR THE IMPOSSIBLE WORLD by Steve J. Spencer
and
February 23 ­ MAY YOU LIVE IN INTERESTING TIMES by Steve J. Spencer

I Interview Playwrights Part 522: Carolyn Kras

Carolyn Kras

Hometown: Berwyn, IL (just outside Chicago)

Current Town: Los Angeles

Q:  What are you working on now?

A:  I’m working on the “Visionary Playwright Commission” from Theater Masters. The play is about a young couple who buys a foreclosed house and is forced to live with strangers when the previous owners won’t move out. This situation is happening across the country due to deceptive bank practices and the long wait times for eviction notices. I wondered what it’s like when people live with housemates they’re trying to kick out.

My historical drama screenplay Magnetic is also in development. It was recently showcased at the Hamptons International Film Festival where Melissa Leo headlined the reading.

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 a kid, I once woke up to a loud explosion that turned out to be a bomb. A neighborhood restaurant was blasted to pieces, probably by the mafia, which was very active at the time. Luckily, no one was injured since it was early morning and the place was closed. I used to sell school fundraising items, like candy bars, to the restaurant’s owner, and I started to wonder if this benevolent man who liked helping the school was involved in shady dealings or was merely a victim. I suppose this incident helps explain why I’m interested in the extreme actions people take to get or keep power.

Q:  Tell me about the Artery Playwrights Project.

A:  It’s a new theatre company in Los Angeles that produces the work of its founding playwrights – Dean Poynor, Brian Forrester, and me. This year we produced Linthead, one of Brian’s plays that theatres wouldn’t touch because it required nine actors. So we raised the money on Indiegogo and put it up ourselves. It received a lovely Los Angeles Times review, and an investor is raising money for a commercial production. Rob Handel of 13P was our professor at Carnegie Mellon and advocated that self-production creates more opportunities. We’re planning the next production now.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  We need to find creative ways to make the tickets cost less or else theatre will lose future audiences. One initiative that worked for us was asking donors to donate tickets to audience members who couldn’t afford them. We gave out 80 free tickets from this drive.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Tom Stoppard, Lynn Nottage, Aeschylus, Edward Albee, Richard Greenberg, and Carter W. Lewis – the list goes on.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  A gripping story, the kind where you can feel the audience leaning forward the whole time.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Write, see new shows, and find collaborators who appreciate your voice. Consider attending an M.F.A. program and/or interning in a literary manager’s office. I read close to a hundred new plays when I was an intern, and that was a great education.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A: The new play commissioned by Theater Masters will have a reading at a prominent theatre (TBD) in 2013. You can check my web site, www.carolynkras.com, for updates.

Reading Today--Arrrrr

My Base and Scurvy Heart

The Musical

Book by Adam Szymkowicz

Music by Dan Moses Schreier

Lyrics by Matt Sherwin

Directed by Peter Ellenstein

Musical Direction by Max Mamon

Starring Cady Huffman, Nellie McKay, Sean McDermott, Hannah Joyce Hoven, Joseph Gomez, Lisa Paige

At William Inge Theater in Independence, KS at 2pm

I Interview Playwrights Part 520: Ike Holter

Ike Holter

Hometown: Minneapolis, Minnesota

Current City: Chicago Il all the way! Going on ten years in July.

Q: What are you working on now?

A: Last week, I wrote and directed a one night only sequel to the Nickelodeon 90’s classic “Are you Afraid of the Dark” called “THE MIDNIGHT SOCIETY.” (Remember SNICK? Awesome stuff.) We caught up with the society years later; pushing 30, casually alcoholic, and telling real life scary stories about Student Loans, Bedbugs, and GRINDR.

We did it in my backyard around a campfire and had almost 200 people in the audience; totally free, totally fun.

My show LOOM opens this Friday (Nov. 2nd) and it’s crazy; it’s about these three guys who get together on the ten year anniversary of their best friend from high school’s disappearance. Think “Bug” meets “Big Chill”.

We’re also doing it site-specific style, in a huge sweaty garage on the North Side of Chicago. So yeah. Shit gets weird.

I’m working on two workshops for November, the first one is called “CANON” and I’m adapting it from stories by Cathy Nathan. It’s about iconography and photography and James Dean and fame and poor people and it’s going to be totally cool. The music is great; songs written by Erik Della Penna, and it’s got a super-sweet-chi-city cast. Also get to re-team with my “HIT THE WALL” director Eric Hoff, which is always a good time.

Finally there’s “KITCHEN SINK”, which I’m writing for DePaul University’s Reskin Theatre downtown. Dexter Bullard’s directing it, and he’s a rock-star. It’s about a young couple going through a huge turning point in their relationship. When they find out that a personal, prized possession was stolen from them, they go absolutely batshit crazy, recruit a private detective, and slowly sink into a pitch-black-film-noir escapade as they try to bring the thief to justice.

I’m also on commission for the Goodman Theater with their First Unit program working on a show called “PROWESS”.

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’ve been writing and directing stuff since High School. I had this show called “REMOTE” that I wrote when I was 16. It was awful. Just terrible. The show was so bad that at one point an audience member turned to their seat-mate and whispered: “Is this supposed to be a comedy?”

I wanted to stand up and scream “Like duh! Couldn’t you tell by the terrible dialogue and the barely-there plot and character arcs?!”

But then I realized that their confusion was totally justified. I wrote something that even I didn’t want to see.

Now, whenever I’m in trouble with a script, I remember experiences like that and try to only write shows I’d pay money to see: not trying to be anyone else but myself.

(No, for real, though. That show was totes awful. Like “clear the room” smells of badness.)
Oy.

Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A: Lower the god-damn ticket price. Jesus, it’s just awful. Lots of plays now are 90 minutes and 90 bucks. That’s a dollar a minute. If theater’s are going to charge that much, they should let the audience bring in mixed fruits and vegetables to throw at the stage if they don’t like the show.
The solution for this? I think? Maybe get smaller plays that appeal to more people. Have cheaper tickets. Because, honestly, for 90 bucks a ticket I should be able to eat a pulled pork sandwich and text my roommate.

Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A: Kander and Ebb taught me class. Brett Neveu, Carlos Murillo, Caitlin Parrish and Dexter Bullard taught me Chicago storytelling--small theaters, big stories.

Everytime I see a John Guare play I want to just kidnap his brain and make it tell me things.
And I think Stephen Sondheim teaches us everything we need to know about adult, accessible, awesome story structure.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: This sounds weird, but I love plays that just start: no exposition, we’re just in a room and the story’s already in progress.

Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A: Be nice to people. Good actors, stage managers, dramaturgs, directors and producers will want to work with you if you have positive energy, interesting ideas, and don’t get wasted during their shows.

Q: Plugs, please:

A: I’m a founding member of The Inconvenience, we do Theater, Music, Art and Dance:
www.theinconvenience.org
Also, LOOM is being produced by Nothing Without a Company, where I’m also a founding member.
www.nothingwithoutacompany.org
Check out The New Colony, one of the best up-and-coming theater companies in Chicago
www.thenewcolony.org
And my personal favorite place to see shows in Chicago is at A Red Orchid Theater.
www.aredorchidtheatre.org

I Interview Playwrights Part 519: Chelsea M. Marcantel

Chelsea M. Marcantel

Hometown: Jennings, Louisiana

Current Town: Abingdon, VA (by way of Chicago)

Q: What are you working on now?

A: I'm editing one of my very first plays, A Place to Land, which is getting produced in a new draft at the beginning of 2013 by Acadiana Repertory Theatre. I'm also completely overhauling a recent play called Even Longer and Farther Away, which has had readings at the Dramatists Guild in NYC and at the Barter Theatre in Virginia, but the newest draft is an utterly different beast. I've just barely begun writing a one-person show about the war on women, specifically focusing on how it affects women in different generations within the same family. That play doesn't have a title quite yet.

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 writing stories as a child because I was a big reader, but sometimes I didn't appreciate the way stories ended and felt I could improve upon them. I remember specifically feeling extremely distraught at the ending of Carousel, and knowing in my heart it was my duty to "fix" it, so I did, on paper. I think I've carried a version of that same idea with me into adulthood -- some of the most honest work I've ever done are fictionalized rehashings of actual conversations and confrontations from my life. The second time around, I get to say everything I want to. I get to dictate a different ending for momentous events. As a writer, I get to live twice, and I think that's part of what people mean when they say that writing is therapeutic. I take a childish delight in crafting happier or more interesting dialogue and endings for everyone involved, real or fictional.

Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A: I wish that theatre could be honestly regarded as community service, and the people who make theatre could be compensated accordingly. I feel like theatre for young audiences is very often seen as life-enriching, but for some reason theatre for adults is viewed as a luxury. Bill English of San Francisco’s SF Playhouse says that "theater is like a gym for empathy. It’s where we can go to build up the muscles of compassion, to practice listening and understanding and engaging with people that are not just like ourselves." I believe in the truth of that statement, and as the world gets flatter and more diverse and more conflicted, I wish that audiences and governments and even some theatre-makers could acknowledge the magnitude of the function that theatre plays in society.

Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A: Anne Bogart, Sarah Ruhl, Tom Stoppard, Young Jean Lee, Samuel Beckett... oh, the list goes on and on.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: I like theatre that focuses outward -- it starts in a relationship that then explodes and turns us outward to a greater view of our surroundings and our world, but everything is still seen through the lens of a handful of people. I love non-realistic, physical, and non-linear theatre that manages to retain a strong, rooted heart. And I'm a total sucker for endurance theatre -- give me a six-hour, eight-hour, ten-hour play or cycle and I'm in heaven.

Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A: See theatre, especially at theatres you'd like to work with. I'm always amazed when I meet a playwright who can't tell me the last show they saw, or which theatres in town they'd like to work with. You can't stare at your computer for weeks on end and never venture out to see what work is being made. I recommend seeing shows on opening night, especially at small theatres, because the director of the play and the artistic director of the company are usually in attendance, and you can tell them what you thought of their work and begin to build personal connections.

Q: Plugs, please.

A: I just wrapped up a play called "Independence Day" that was part of the Hobo Robo 5 Festival in Chicago. Now I'm focused on getting my playwrighting students at Virginia Intermont College through their final exam readings! Check out www.chelseamarcantel.com for information on upcoming productions.

I Interview Playwrights Part 518: Adam Hahn

Adam Hahn

Hometown: Burlington, IA

Current Town: Los Angeles

Q: Tell me about Kong.

A: KONG: A Goddamn Thirty-Foot Gorilla started as a project in a class on adaptation in the Hollins Playwright's Lab, taught by Jeff Goode. I told Jeff that I was considering adapting King Kong, but I had convinced myself it was impossible. He pushed me to try it anyway.

My first resistance and attraction to the idea came from the physical impossibility of the staging: I knew Ann and Kong would need to interact with each other. I knew I would want a gorilla fighting a dinosaur--preferably on a small stage, with the audience just a few feet away.

My script evolved through a lot of riffing on the source material: I connected to a couple of characters with monologues several years after Kong's death. I twisted conversations from the original to springboard farcical scenes about gender and power. I got to the racial subtext by talking about Noble Johnson, one of the biggest African American actors of the era.

I ended up with something that is part commentary, part parody, part history lesson, part sincere re-telling of the greatest ape/human love story of all time. It's also a playground for designers and a ride for the audience. It's a show that takes people a lot of places in a very short period of time.

For the premiere production by SkyPilot Theatre in Los Angeles, I was able to get a team (many people, but I want to mention director Jaime Robledo and scenic and prop designer Tifanie McQueen) who could stage the impossible, along with actors who could perform it.

Q: What else are you working on now?

A: I'm at the early stages on a project I'm calling The Mermaid Wars. I'm conceiving this more as a collection than an individual play: Some monologues and scenes should stand on their own, sections that could be serialized, and other scenes that could be added or removed for different theatres. I want to create an experience that's different in every production, with audiences getting a complete evening of theatre but not every piece of the puzzle.

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 went through elementary school right after D.A.R.E became popular. This is an anti-drug program that most American children in public schools go through, despite decades of research finding no discernible benefit. In fact, there is evidence that students who go through D.A.R.E actually become more likely to use drugs.

In the fifth grade, a police officer came to our school every couple of weeks to teach us the difference between stimulants and depressants, give us a list of ways to say no, or show movies about teenagers getting high and living to regret it.

Our last assignment before the "graduation" ceremony where we would be issued our D.A.R.E t-shirts was an essay on what we had learned from the program. I wrote a page or two stating that the program had been a waste of my time: by the age of ten I had already decided not to do drugs, and I didn't need to have my school day interrupted to have that decision reinforced.
The police officer read my essay and thanked me for being honest.

Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A: Fortunately, a lot of people I've been able to know and spend some time working with or being instructed by.

Jeff Goode. I encountered his play The Eight: Reindeer Monologues in high school, and that did a lot to inform my thinking about what a play could be. He's become a friend, a mentor, a guide as I wrote KONG, and my MFA thesis advisor.

As much as any individual, the institution of No Shame Theatre. This was started at the University of Iowa in 1986 by Todd Ristau (now program director of the Hollins Playwright's Lab), Jeff Goode, and other unruly theatre students as an anything-goes late-night venue for short new pieces of theatre. Anything is acceptable, within three basic rules: original works only, every piece must end within five minutes, and no piece can break the theatre/audience/performers/law. Every show is assembled by accepting the first fifteen writers standing in line: no selection committee, no censorship, little technical support, and sometimes very little rehearsal. Not every piece is good. In fact, some pieces are terrible, but five minutes later something completely different has taken their place. Every show I've seen has included some piece that made the evening worth it, and the best shows include a couple of bad pieces, a couple of interesting pieces that don't quite succeed, several good pieces, and a few minutes of transcendent theatre. By the time I started going to No Shame in 1999, there were a handful of active chapters scattered across the country. I've participated in No Shame in at least five states. I can't name all of the people who have won my respect by taking the freedoms of this venue and running with them. My heroes are the people who experimented, expanded their skill sets, or worked their way toward perfection in whatever form they pursuing. There are a few monologues, songs, thirty-second comedy sketches, juggling acts, or creative pieces of staging that will probably inform my writing for the rest of my life.

And some of the improv performers/teachers at iO West (formerly Improv Olympic West) in Los Angeles. Again, there are way too many individuals to mention. You can sit in this theatre any night of the week, and you'll see something amazing, at least for a few minutes. Craig Cackowski and Shulie Cowen are just two of my heroes, for their work on stage and in the classroom.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: I'm excited by theatre that isn't afraid of being more than one thing. I like shifting between comedy and drama.

I'm excited by small spaces and the innovations that come with small budgets.

Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A: Don't limit your definitions of "play" or "theatre." There's no hard line that separates what we do from sketch comedy, stand-up, ballet, rock concerts, professional wresting, magic shows, theme park design, or kindergarten teaching. Pretending that playwriting is something else will only limit your toolkit and imagination. You can learn as much about theatre watching a church service or children's storytime as you can watching a play.

Q: Plugs, please:

A: SkyPilot Theatre, which is presenting KONG: A Goddamn Thirty-Foot Gorilla through November 25th. This is one of the few companies in Los Angeles that devotes itself completely to new works, developed by a group of resident playwrights.
http://skypilottheatre.com/

The Hollins Playwrights Lab in Roanoke, VA. A low-residency MFA program, where students from around the country come together for six weeks of classes every summer. Like the program Facebook page for more information, as well as updates on student and alumni productions.
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Hollins-Playwrights-Lab/127852567252421

I Interview Playwrights Part 517: Devon de Mayo

Devon de Mayo

Hometown: Tustin, California

Current Town: Chicago, Illinois

Q:  What are you working on now?

A: Guerra: A Clown Play - a show that I developed with Seth Bockley and La Piara (a clown troupe based in Mexico City). We have spent the last year between Chicago and Mexico City creating the show and are now polishing it and taking it to a few international festivals.

Everything Is Illuminated - I'm directing an adaptation of the novel at Next Theatre in February 2013.

Dog & Pony Theatre Co. - The company that I co-founded with Krissy Vanderwarker. We're currently working on four projects in various stages of development, the ones that I'm entrenched with are a re-envisioned re-mount of As Told by the Vivian Girls, a devised piece about outsider artist Henry Darger that we created in 2008; a new play about the relationship between Richard Wagner and Ludwig II; and a piece about the Dill Pickle Society, a bohemian hang out that existed in 1920's Chicago.

Q:  Tell me about the process by which you devise something.

A:  It's really good for me to spell this out as I'm trying to solidify my process after a number of years of trial and error. The process is different with each project, partly because each piece I've devised has been so different, partly because the collaborative team varied on each project, and also the process shifts as I learn what works and what does not. Generally, I like to spend a year researching the topic of the show. This research time is usually spent passing books and other sources around with my collaborators. I have co-directed all of my devised work, and co-written it as well. So, it's never a process that is not immediately shared.

After or during the research phase, I generally create a map of the show. I'm a visual learner, so this is often more for me than anyone else involved in the show, but it tracks the main events of the play and charts the journey. For "Vivian Girls" this map was our script. Each character had different color that tracked their journey and the major plot points were indicated by specific Darger paintings. Ever since that show, I've been creating maps for each show I work on - sometimes for others to see, sometimes just for me to have a touchstone for the piece at home.

Then, there is a workshop phase. This has taken various forms over the years - sometimes it's weekend workshops with script pages being shared with actors and then, writing/developing sessions without actors in between workshops. Sometimes, its ensemble building and movement exploration with no text in the room for a weeks at a time. Sometimes its an extension of the rehearsal process with found text, everyone writing and movement work all being shared. Most recently, we worked on The Whole World is Watching, a play with music, and realized that the music was too hard to play around with in workshops, it's such a technical skill to find harmonies and set rhythms, so we put that off for the first week of rehearsals and just spent workshops on story development. Generally, during workshops actors are not cast in roles. They know that they'll be in the show, but for workshops everyone plays every part. Side note: I stole this from the Royal Shakespeare Company's development of Nicholas Nickleby. They asked actors to sign on to the project, not a specific part, and that way the play was #1 in the room and everyone was working in service of that during workshops. I thought it was a great idea. And it's worked really well, especially to help the ensemble's bond. No matter what, the workshops are all of us exploring the subject matter and story together. I try to include designers in all workshops. Also, workshops are active dramaturgy time. Everyone is doing research assignments and sharing with the group what they've learned by leading exercises that relate to the dramaturgy.

Then, the rehearsal process follows. This has been as long as four months and as short as four weeks. During this time, we try to lock in the scenes and text. Lately, I have been interested in building the script as we work as a separate document from the devising process. So, we end up with both a production and a script. They may be slightly different from one another, but that way we have a record of what we've created, regardless of the specific production restraints we faced, and lock in any language that is non-negotiable.

Most recently, I have also made a priority of more rehearsal time after a couple previews. So, we preview for a weekend, then head back to the rehearsal room for a week and keep re-working before more previews. Often, the audience adds a whole new understanding to the devised work, and this time is important to refine and shift based on audience reactions.

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 15, I applied to be a foreign exchange student. I left on my 16th birthday to Italy because I was convinced that the world must be bigger than Tustin, California. When I arrived, I was told that my host family could come and pick me up in Rome, but I insisted on taking the train alone to Perugia (their hometown), and meeting them there. I transferred trains on my own, using my week-old, broken Italian to get myself to the right place. I arrived at the train station in Perugia and disembarked, so proud that I had gotten from California to Perugia on my own. I sat for two hours waiting for my host family. They didn't come. They didn't come. I tried to use my Italian to find out if I was in the right place, and yes, it was Perugia. Finally, I broke down and called California. My parents were out of town, so I called my best friend's parents from across the street. I was now in tears. I was lost in a foreign country. I'd never traveled out of North America, and now I could not find who I was supposed to meet. My friend's dad calmly asked me, "Have you asked if there is more than one train station in Perugia?" This was the answer. I found out that there two stations, was able to call the other station, they paged my worried host family who had thought that they had lost their new American child. They came and found me, and we were able to laugh off our collective panic in how we met. I guess, this typifies me in a few ways. First, I needed to travel and live outside of the US at 16, and I still need it today. I needed push myself past what was comfortable and try to do things on my own. I can be fiercely independent sometimes. But also, I need collaborators. I don't problem solve on my own, I need to collaborate with people I admire and trust. I rely on them. And sometimes, I fail. I learn a lot from taking big risks and occasionally failing.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  The rate at which we innovate. I think we're too slow to push the form. Our audience is dwindling, and we don't fight hard enough to push the form and reach a new audience.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Caryl Churchill, Vsevolod Meyerhold, Harold Pinter, Ian Rickson, Wendy Wasserstein, Sheila Callaghan.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Theatre where the audience relationship with the play is part of the experience - for instance, Punchdrunk, Shunt Collective, the National Theatre of Scotland, Pig Iron, The Hypocrites, Frantic Assembly, Kneehigh. Also, theatre that includes movement as a vocabulary with which to tell stories.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Don't be afraid to write protagonists who aren't a version of yourself. Develop your own method to create new work, there's no right way to do it.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  Go see - The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Heart by the National Theatre of Scotland touring around the country, Failure: A Love Story by Philip Dawkins at Victory Gardens in Chicago, Guerra: A Clown Play at the Tricklock Festival in Albuquerque, New Mexico in January.

I Interview Playwrights Part 516: J. Julian Christopher

J. Julian Christopher

Hometown: I was born and raised in Levittown, Long Island. Actually the first full-length play I wrote was about my experiences living in Levittown. It is an interesting place. I still go back there often, not by choice really. My sister bought the house we grew up in. It's very odd to go back. It feels like a lifetime ago. Levittown is not necessarily a place I associate with positive memories. My family was great, but outside of the house within the rest of the community I was always an outsider. Qué sera, sera... right?

Current Town: Currently I reside in Briarwood, Queens New York... but I seem to have lived a nomadic existence for the past decade (13 moves in 10 years) so... who knows?

Q:  What are you working on now?
A:  Right now I'm working on two new plays, one revision on an older play and a pilot. I'm definitely A.D.D. when it comes to writing. If I get stuck, I need to move on to something else or I'll obsess which is never good for anyone!!!

Q:  Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A:  This relates to what I began to touch on about living in white, suburban, Levittown Long Island. I grew up as a “white boy." As a child, I never really had the understanding of what it meant to be Dominican and Puerto Rican. As my parents, sister and I could “pass” for white, my parents kept the “white” façade up and even furthered it by never teaching their children Spanish. I understand why they took these actions, to keep me from experiencing the prejudice they had experienced during their childhood. But I wasn’t white. My name made that apparent to people. But neither was I Latino. This “Americanization” alienated me from my Latino roots as well as distanced me from White America. I was in the middle somewhere -- stuck between the Latino I am and the Latino I was supposed to be. The disassociation I felt towards my heritage continued throughout my adult life extending far into my career. Casting directors and agents saw my name (Christopher Julian Jiménez) and automatically assumed I could speak Spanish. Upon discovering that I could not, they did not know where to place me. And I didn’t know where to place myself. I felt divorced from the name Jiménez, but I wasn’t quite ready to give it up completely. I changed my name professionally to J. Julian Christopher, placing my last name first. That way, for me, it was the most prominent, but I didn’t have to answer the questions that have plagued me most of my life: What are you? How could you not speak Spanish? Aren’t you ashamed that you can’t speak Spanish? Do you eat tacos?

These identity issues manifest itself all over my writing. I'm constantly writing about identity.

Q:  How does your directing inform your playwriting and vice-versa?

A:  I sort of fell into directing. I was actually an actor for many years before writing or directing so actually my experience as an actor informs my writing tremendously. My first drafts tend to be double of what anyone actually gets to read. I come at writing from an acting standpoint so I end up writing everything down, every thought and feeling a character may have. I find that writing out the subtext helps me discover what the character really needs to keep private. I have had drafts where there was a four-page monologue that ended up becoming one word, "No."

Directing has come mostly from a dramaturgical need. When I'm directing anything, I'm trying to make sure the story is clear. Many times an actor and playwright can lose sight of that because they are too attached and precious about the words. Directing has informed how I approach a script and has given me a great revising eye towards my own plays. I do not like to direct my own work though. I thrive on collaboration and I need that give and take. Recently during the workshop of my play Animals Commit Suicide at terraNova Collective, José Zayas would challenge me to re-examine the script and get to the heart of the story. Since working with him I cut about 24 pages. The play in its current state wouldn't exist without him and I now can't see it any other way. A good director challenges me and I appreciate that.

Q:  Tell me about Bulk.

A:  BULK-The Series is a webseries created by myself and a dear friend of mine, D.R. Knott. D.R. and I went to high school together. She went to Columbia for film, and we had been looking for a way to collaborate. We wanted to write about under-represented communities and I automatically thought, “Why don’t we do something in regards to the Gay Bear Community?” A Gay Bear, according to the always reliable *ahem* Wikipedia is, "an LGBT slang term for men that are commonly, but not always, overweight and often having hairy bodies and facial hair. It is a subculture in the gay and bisexual male communities and to an emerging subset of LGBT communities with events, codes, and a culture-specific identity." These types of gay male characters are not the norm in mainstream media so we thought that creating a story within the backdrop of the bear community would be an interesting perspective for a webseries. It also doesn't hurt that I'm a member of the Gay Bear Community. We got together, wrote the characters, and created a series from it. You can see the first season at www.bulktheseries.com.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  I would say Clifford Odets, Paddy Chayefsky, and Federico García Lorca are my theatrical heroes. The beauty of their language, the power of their message and the brilliance in structure... I just marvel at the craftsmanship without it ever feeling like a craft. Their work feels like life, so effortless. I am in awe every time I read or see one of their plays. I'll never forget reading Chayefsky's THE LATENT HETEROSEXUAL... changed my life.

I also would be completely ridiculous not to mention Martha Graham, José Limón, and Merce Cunningham. It's a toss-up between playwrights and choreographers for me. Well... they are one and the same, really. The body doesn't lie so when I can't intellectually get to the truth of a scene and I need a way to unlock it... I dance it. Works every time.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: I'm excited when I see theater that challenges the way I think. I'm excited then I see theater that makes me angry. I'm excited when I see theater that takes risks. No further explanation necessary.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Honestly, sometimes it feels like I'm just starting out and could use advice myself. I've been writing plays since 2008 and from what I have learned thus far is to write everyday. Even if you think it's crap. It's really hard to write and not judge the writing as you go. I'm still learning that. Sometimes you just have to get whatever is in your head, out. Maybe it will be good. Maybe it won't. Maybe there will be a moment that is excellent and will take you to place you never thought you'd go. But I try to write at least an hour everyday.

Also get your work out there and submit it. It's the only way to make it happen, because no one is certainly going to seek your play out when they don't know it exists. Send it out. You have nothing to lose.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  I just completed a workshop of my play Animals Commit Suicide with terraNova Collective, directed by José Zayas as part of the Fall Groundbreakers Series. In Animals Commit Suicide, Chance Stevens has a high-end job, classic good looks, and the attention of anyone he wants in the NYC gay scene. Yet something is missing in his life that he cannot live without. He embarks on a dangerous journey of self-discovery only to find the very best and the very worst of a new community of which he so desperately wants to be a part.

Locusts Have No King will appear in the November installment of Salvaged Space Reading Series at Personal Space Theatrics (PST) . In Locusts, four closeted gay men get together for a dinner party and, over the course of the evening, all hell breaks loose…literally.

Nico was a Fashion Model will be workshopped with Variations Theatre Group at The Chain Theater in Long Island City this winter. Set on closing night of the NYC punk club CBGB's, Nico Was A Fashion Model is an intimate look at race relations from a suburban teenage perspective.