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1100 Playwright Interviews

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Aug 11, 2011

I Interview Playwrights Part 375: Bess Wohl


Bess Wohl

Hometown:  Brooklyn, NY

Current town:  Right now I'm in Williamstown, MA, but I'm based in NYC, with frequent trips to LA.

Q:  What are you working on now? 

A:  In the past few weeks, I've been in rehearsals for my play, TOUCH(ED) at the Williamstown Theater Festival, rewriting and tweaking a lot.  I'm also currently writing the book for PRETTY FILTHY, a new musical, with the composer/lyricist Michael Friedman about the adult entertainment industry.  It's a commission from Center Theater Group and The Civilians.  Finally, because even playwrights need to make a living, I'm writing a feature for Paramount Pictures based on the bestselling book series, THE LUXE, and will be developing TV  for CBS this fall.

Q:  How does your acting inform your playwriting and vice versa?

A:  I actually first started playwriting while I was getting my MFA in acting.  There was a little student-run space called The Cabaret, and I began writing plays for my actor classmates and producing them in the theater there.  (The Cabaret also served booze, which probably helped those first plays go down easier...)  Wanting to create great parts for actors was the initial spark that made me start writing. Nothing pleases me more than seeing an actor find a way to be great, with the help of words I've written. 

On a deeper level, what draws me to writing is the same thing that drew me to acting-- it's all about character.  In both art forms, I hope to get inside characters and create living, breathing people.  I try to write parts that actors will want to play, and lines that I think would be fun to say.  What I've had to subsequently learn, as a writer, is how to be in charge, critical and decisive.  As an actor, you're trained to be continually open and pliable, to "always say yes."  As a playwright, you have to be able to articulate a clear vision and must stay in control of the story that is being told.  You have to be willing-- and able-- to say no. 

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

A:  This is really the defining story of my life, and it's a simple one:  When I was about four or five years old, I went to a summer camp with swimming classes.  There was an Olympic sized pool, with a very high diving board-- it seemed like it was ten miles up in the air.  The swimming teacher marched all the campers up the diving board ladder and stood us on the platform, asking who wanted to jump first.  Nobody ever had before.  It was absolutely terrifying.  We all stood there shivering in our swimsuits, as one boy after another walked to the edge, then balked and turned around.  Suddenly-- I still don't know exactly why-- I stepped forward.  This was completely out of character for me,  a shy, chubby, awkward bookworm, always picked last for every team.  But somehow, in that moment, I realized that all I needed to do was step off the edge, and gravity would do the rest.  I also knew I had to do it or I would regret it forever.  And so, I walked to the edge, and jumped.  It was probably the bravest moment of my life-- which I guess is a bit sad, really!--  but I still think about it every time I do a play.

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

A:  I wish it were less expensive, of course.  I also usually wish it were less stuffy.  I wish that it were more relevant to a wider array of people, which would probably come with it being less expensive and stuffy. 

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes: 

A:  Well, I have to go for the obvious-- Shakespeare.  I took a class Freshman year in college with the amazing Shakespeare scholar, Marjorie Garber.  We read all the plays and the experience pretty much changed my life in every way.  It was like a religious conversion-- I still look to Shakespeare for lessons in drama and in life.  The moment at the end of Twelfth Night when Viola, in the hope of finding her lost brother,  exclaims, "Prove true, imagination, O, prove true!" for me speaks to what we're always trying to accomplish in theater:  to take something imagined and make it feel true.  I think about that line all the time, as a silent prayer.  And his characters-- Lady M, Caliban, Brutus, Hermione, Mercutio, I could go on forever-- they are the bravest, most complicated and heartbreaking and sexy and fascinating group of people I could possibly imagine.

Of course, in terms of modern playwrights-- there are so many I adore.  Tony Kushner.  Stephen Adly Guirgis.  Paula Vogel.  And actors like Janet McTeer, whose Nora in A Doll's House is etched in my mind.  Simon Russel Beale whose Iago I'll never forget.  Mark Rylance who blows me to bits every time I see him on stage.  I'm also lucky enough to have some amazing writer, director and actor friends who have mentored me, reading drafts after draft of my work and giving advice:  Keith Bunin, Itamar Moses, Trip Cullman, Chuck Morey, Susan Pourfar.  I learned from them that writing doesn't have to be lonely and solitary-- it takes a lot of support.  I could never write without their help. 

Q:  What kind of theater excites you: 

A:  I'm attracted to theater that's language driven-- theater that feels excessive and messy and generous, where words flow freely.  I love the musicality of language, and I love people and characters who can't shut up. I get an almost physical thrill from hearing talking-- language that hits me hard, in the gut, and feels visceral and chewy and delicious.  I love sloppy words.  I myself can't shut up about them right now... But okay, okay, I will.  I'm done.  Really.  Okay.  Now.  Done.

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

A:  Find actors you love and bribe them with snacks or beer to read your work out loud.  There is no substitute for hearing your work, even if it's just in your own living room.  Chose subject matter that feels important to you, and stick with it even when it feels crappy.  I heard the amazing Ira Glass speak once about how there's this gap, when you're first starting out, between what you would LIKE to have made, and what you actually did make.  His advice?  To make a ton of work, and eventually your product will catch up with your taste, and the gap between what you are making and what you want to make will close.

Finally, I'd say you have to find a way to enjoy the process as much as the result, because you never know what the result will be.  A playwright friend once told me that you have to look at each step in the process-- from the first draft on-- as if it's the last one, and derive full satisfaction from it.    Because if you're waiting for some magical pot of gold at the end of the rainbow... Well, you miss the rainbow, which is the best part.

Q:  Plugs please: 

A:  TOUCH(ED) at Williamstown Theater Festival runs thru this weekend!  Come check it out!! 

Aug 7, 2011

I Interview Playwrights Part 374: Wendy MacLeod



Wendy MacLeod

Hometown: Arlington, Virginia

Current Town: South Conway, New Hampshire

Q:  What are you working on now?

A:  I’m working on a play that asks the question: What if the second coming of Christ happened in contemporary suburbia?

I’m also working on a screenplay for a thriller, and I have some ideas for future essays…I’ve started to write about books.

Q:  What could a student in your playwriting class expect?

A:  Students can expect to read great stuff. I don’t teach a play unless I love it, or feel very strongly that it has something to teach them. They can expect a heavy emphasis on solving the structure of a given play. They will be pushed to write something interesting in a voice that is distinctly their own. Comedy will never be dismissed as lacking in ambition because it’s a comedy.

They will receive an intelligent, thoughtful critique from their classmates. I think the tone of a writing workshop comes from the teacher so I don’t allow the students to merely like it or not like it—they must articulate what they’re responding to. And if they’re going to be allusive I insist on their using a theatrical frame of reference. How are they going to learn how to write plays if all they’re seeing and talking about is Will Ferrell movies?

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 in first grade, a classmate was cast as Wendy in Peter Pan. This struck me as a grave injustice given that Wendy was my name. So I offered her a ring in exchange for the role. I can still see it; it was a silver ring, from India, with little bells on it. She made the trade. I hope this speaks to my determination and not my lack of a moral center.

A few years earlier, I worked steadily on a flattened refrigerator box in the garage, drawing on the steering controls for what, in my head, was going to serve as a magic carpet. That combination of the imaginative and the practical was good preparation for being a playwright.

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

A:  I wish that people could afford to take their families so that children could discover the theater, real theater. My sons saw the entire Shakespeare history cycle, all eight plays, at the RSC, complete with bloody decapitated heads and battles with bows and arrows and Frenchmen descending to the stage on trapeze horses. They know that Shakespeare isn’t boring.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  I can tell you which canonical writers I admire—Chekhov, Pinter, and Caryl Churchill.

But the heroes these days are the writers, directors and actors who continue to work in the theater when it sometimes seems irrelevant to the culture.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  I often see things that feel made-up and I leave the theater feeling unmoved because I didn’t believe a word of it. If I believe the play has articulated some truth about the human condition, however big or small, that excites me, whether the vehicle is straight-up realism or a more formally inventive play. I want to hear an original voice and enter a world that I might not otherwise have access to.

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

A:  If they’re just learning to write plays, I would have them eschew most how-to playwriting books and go straight to Aristotle’s POETICS. (although Julie Jensen, Jeffrey Sweet, and Jeffrey Hatcher do have helpful guides). I would tell them that acting is great training for playwriting. I would tell them that plays are not just a series of conversations. Something has to happen.

I would tell them to read plays and go see plays, even the plays they think they know. I remember rolling my eyes at the thought of going to see that old chestnut OUR TOWN, and then spending the entire third act in a puddle of tears. I dismissed Alan Aykbourn until I went to see THE NORMAN CONQUESTS at Manhattan Theater Club and then I wanted to watch the plays again and again. I always tell my students not to say they don’t like a play until they’ve seen at least two productions of it.

Young playwrights should also know that they are not just playwrights, they are writers, and should be reading all kinds of great literature.

As for career tips, I would tell young playwrights not to send their plays out too soon, because most theaters will only consider a play once, even if you go on to write a brilliant new draft. I would tell them to proofread their work. And I would have to tell them that they will be taken more seriously as a playwright if they have film and television credits too. People always want to hop on the train.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  My new play FIND AND SIGN opens January 13 at the Pioneer Theater in Salt Lake City.

Aug 4, 2011

I Interview Playwrights Part 373: Kate Mulley



Kate Mulley

Hometown: Newton, MA. When I was a kid I heard somewhere that Newton was home to 5% of the nation's psychiatrists, I don't know if that was true, but it was a fun fact at the time.

Current Town: New York, NY. New York is probably home to more than 5% of the nation's psychiatrists.

Q:  What are you working on now?

A:  A few things. I'm in the last week of preparing for my play The Tutor, which is about an SAT tutor who sells her used underwear online. It'll be performed in the New York Fringe Festival between August 12th and 20th. The NyLon Fusion Writers Collective, my writers group, is collaborating with a group of actors on a piece that has taken many forms. At one point it was about American expats living in London, now we're taking a more abstract approach and working on the idea of "home." That will be performed in November at the Gene Frankel. And I'm working on a play about a British doctor named J Alison Glover, who was an unsung public health hero in the early 20th century. It's about his work, how it relates to us today, the role of doctors and patients in medical decision making. But it's also a bit of a war epic. Like War Horse meets Wit.

Q:  How does English theater compare to American theater?

A:  Oh, this is a tricky one. Theatre is part of the general culture of England in a way that it isn't really in America (I think Jez Butterworth's play Jerusalem captures that very well). It's also part of their tourism in a way that it isn't here. People go to London to see plays, they don't do that in New York quite the same way. English theatre is also heavily subsidized (though some of that is changing), so there are more opportunities to take risks. Even commercial theater over there tends to be riskier, less family friendly. They had to change the whole arc of Priscilla Queen of the Desert to make it more "family friendly" on Broadway. Plays also don't get as bogged down in development hell the way they do here. If you have a show at an Off-West End or fringe theatre in London you can get 4 or 5 different reviews of it in national newspapers, that doesn't happen anywhere in America. I think institutions like the National Theatre and the Royal Court are absolutely integral to the success of English theatre (and American theatre if you look at how many of their shows eventually transfer) and those theaters have more than one show going on all year round. Rocco Landesman said recently that there was more supply than demand in American theater and a lot of us took offense to that. They don't seem to care about that in London. When I started my MA at Goldsmiths College, we read an article by Mark Ravenhill that said that American playwrights know that no one cares about them, but that English playwrights are deluded to think that people still do. I think embracing that delusion is key for survival. And somehow demanding to be relevant.

Q:  How does your dramaturgy affect your playwriting and vice-versa.

A:  I think I see dramaturgy and playwriting as one and the same. I love the research element of writing plays, it's how I satisfy my latent history nerd. I also love really taking apart plays and thinking about how they work structurally. My Goldsmiths classmates and I would sit around in the pub after class talking about how to fix our plays. Even three pints in sometimes, we would still be dramaturging one another's plays. I think it's a really important skill for playwrights to have. I also think that the definition of dramaturg can be be as narrow or as broad as you want it to be.

Q:  How did you end up writing headlines for the Onion?

A:  I was an Editorial and Sports Intern there my first year out of college. I got the job because I knew a lot about the Dartmouth hockey team and the guy interviewing me had grown up in Hanover (where Dartmouth is). We agreed that one player was totally overrated and a guy I was friends with was underrated (for the record, we were right, my friend's still playing in the NHL and the other guy ended up being a bit of a bust). After a month or so of sitting in on writers meetings I was allowed to pitch some sports headlines. One of them, about the Duke lacrosse team scandal, was totally unintentionally disgusting. And they just ran with it. I was also featured in a photograph as a girl who ate too much Valentine's day candy and was dumped by her boyfriend as a result.

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

A:  Music was really important in the Newton Public School system. In 3rd grade, we played the recorder, in 4th grade we got to pick our own instrument to play. I had already been playing the piano, but decided for my "4th grade instrument" I wanted to play either the oboe or the French horn, knowing that these were historically the hardest instruments to learn how to play. I ended up playing the oboe for about 4 years before giving it up to spend more time doing theater and playing sports. Now I look back at that and laugh at this innate desire to challenge myself. It's why I stuck it out on the crew team for four years in college and it's why I'm a playwright. And it certainly informs the type of work that I aim to create.

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

A:  I would love it if there were a way for ticket prices to be lower so that more theatre could be accessible to a wider range of people. Anything to get people off of their laptops and into a space with living breathing people!

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  I feel incredibly indebted to Caryl Churchill. I find her work incredibly inspiring and beautiful. Tom Stoppard is another, so much so that when I met him in an airport in Spain I sent him a thank you note for being nice to me. I'm in awe of Sarah Ruhl's industriousness and brilliance. I like JT Rogers' dedication to epic theatre about ideas that are as gripping as Bond movies. I love Tarell Alvin McCraney use of language, there's a moment in The Brothers Size that gives me chills just thinking about it. I'm so glad Taylor Mac's work is getting a larger audience, he breaks my heart and entertains me at the same time. Nick Hern is a theatrical hero for publishing some amazing plays that would otherwise never be in print and for giving me the opportunity to stay in London for an extra 2 years when I otherwise would have been lost. The people at the New York Theatre Workshop for their dedication to taking theatrical risks. Oh and Mark Rylance, except I wish he weren't an anti-Stratfordian, that bothers me.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Theatre that consciously breaks rules and entertains me at the same time. A great production of a play I've read but never seen. I love any play with drag queens (and have a kernel of an idea for a drag musical of my own, stay tuned). And most importantly, theatre that surprises me. One of the burdens of being a playwright/dramaturg is being able to predict the ending of a play. I love being pleasantly surprised at the end of a play.

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

A:  See everything you can. Read everything you can. Write as often as you can, but don't beat yourself up about it. Intern with companies you respect, usher at theatres, Make friends with people who share your aesthetic and create plays with them. Maintain friends who don't do theatre. Join a writers group. Don't worry about readjusting your definition of success as time goes on. Learn how to badger and hustle. Bask in the wonderful absurdity of your decision to be a playwright.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  The Tutor is at the Living Theater in the New York Fringe, August 12-20th (http://www.fringenyc.org/basic_page.php?ltr=T#TheTut) The NyLon piece in November at the Gene Frankel is tentatively titled Spoken For, but may change, keep a look out for that. Come say hi at the Drama Book Shop but if you would prefer to follow my occasional musings online, you can check out my website katemulley.com.

Aug 3, 2011

I Interview Playwrights Part 372: Octavio Solis



Octavio Solis

Hometown: El Paso.

Current Town: San Francisco.

Q:  What are you working on now?

A:  Several commissions. One for the Denver Center, one for South Coast Rep, two for Yale Rep, and one brand new one for the Magic Theatre in San Francisco.

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 about 12, I was bicycling with my friend along the levee of the Rio Grande right by my house. We were performing stunts on the gradient of the ditch and drinking cokes and throwing stones into the sludgy brown water of the river. A US Border Patrol cruiser drove up and the officer asked us what we were doing. We told him we were just hanging around. Then he gave us a hard steely look and asked us for our identification. I told him I was an American citizen and a kid besides, and that I didn't need identification. He leaned down to me and took off his sunglasses and told me I would never be an American, no matter how hard I tried. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the world, I was and would forever be a Mexican. He almost cuffed me and took me in, but he laughed and drove off.

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

A:  America's infatuation with British drama. Having once been an Anglophile, I can understand the preoccupation with English plays, but as the American theatre movement persists in ignoring the diverse voices on its own shores, it's starting to feel a little classist.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Maria Irene Fornes and Shakespeare are my foremost influences. They changed the way I wrote. Sam Shepard also. But I think it is literature which has influenced me the most. I read a lot. Poetry, fiction, etc.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  The kind that rattles me to the core. That scares the fuck out of me. The kind of theatre that keeps me up at night and possesses me during the day.

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

A:  Don't wait for to be discovered. Don't wait for some champion to come along and produce your work. Do it yourself. Make it happen. Define your terms and go. That way, you own your art and make your own mistakes and learn all the facets of theatre-making. From the ticket booth to cleaning the toilets to working with the actors: apply yourself to it. You'll either trust yourself in this or you won't.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  I have a new musical, Cloudlands with music by Adam Gwon (Lyrics by both of us) opening at South Coast Repertory Theatre in April, 2012.

Aug 2, 2011

I Interview Playwrights Part 371: Ian W. Hill


Ian W. Hill

Hometown:  Cos Cob, CT

Current Town:  Gravesend, Brooklyn, NY

Q:  Tell me about Gone.

A:  Gone is really the first serious play I ever started writing, post school-juvenilia level. I began it in 1990, so it’s had a long, long road to the stage from when I first imagined it – of course I finished it in 2005, so it hasn’t been all that long since then . . .

Gone came about when I was acting in a play by Thalia Field, The Celibate, and I was taken with her use of . . . what shall I call it? “Non-standard English” in a dramatic context. The most frequent adjective that is used is “Joycean” which, I suppose, is fine as an easy descriptor, but is also teeth grindingly inaccurate. I had been writing prose in a bizarre, portmantoid style for years, but it wasn’t until I acted in Thalia’s play that I saw the possibilities of using this style in a theatrical context. I had this image of two old women sitting at a café table and discussing their lives (one of my two beloved great-grandmothers had recently died, and I was thinking of her and the other one) and what came out was this torrent of abstracted memories.

I wrote the first 5 pages of the play – it’s 11 pages long and runs 42 minutes – in a massive creative burst that first year, then couldn’t find it again except it bits and pieces for the next 13 years, over which I only wrote another 2 or so pages, line by sluggish line. Eventually, while I was a bored extra sitting around on the set of the horrible remake of The Stepford Wives for 4 months, I got the groove back and plowed through nearly to the end before getting stuck again. Then, finally, in 2005, I looked at it, saw how little there was left to do to finish it, buckled down and did it. In the meantime, of course, I’ve written a number of plays – wholly original and more often collage works – that have been produced, so it’s a strange feeling to suddenly see this play, which feels both like an “early work” and a brand-new one, coming to life in rehearsal, especially since I’ve always wondered if it could actually be performed by human beings! Realizing that something you’ve written requires tour de force performances by your cast to merely work at all is a bit daunting, but luckily I have been blessed with Alyssa Simon and Ivanna Cullinan, who have gone above and beyond in pulling it off.

It’s exactly the play I intended it to be 21 years ago when it came into my head, but it only just occurred to me in rehearsal recently that while the structure and feeling of the discussion and argument between these two women has been the same in all the time I’ve been writing it, I’ve changed so much in my life that I’ve gone from agreeing with the point of view of one of them to the other – which is probably good, as I always planned to give that one the final, convincing argument of the play, and it was easier to write when I agreed with her.

Gone is running on a double bill with another one-act play of mine, Antrobus, and that bill runs in rep with a new two-act play I’m writing, ObJects. Antrobus took a little less time to write than Gone – I conceived and started it in 1999, and am just finishing it now as we rehearse it – all my old computer files of previous versions vanished in a hard drive crash, so I’ve had to rewrite it from scratch. This has turned out to be a very good thing – it was originally written to replace a production of Sam Shepard’s Action when I couldn’t afford the rights to that, so it was a little too indebted to the set, props, and character breakdown of that play at first. It’s a little piece about a “family” attempting to survive in a future Ice Age, with cabin fever becoming the biggest problem they have to face.

ObJects is still being written around the actors as we rehearse (in fact, I’m avoiding some difficult writing right now in responding to this question), and is a science-fiction satire about class and ethics in the USA about 50 years from now. Dense and hard-to-describe, though I hope it’s fleet-of-foot and funny for the audiences. Somewhere between Shaw and Henry Adams and Network and Brazil, I hope.

Q:  What else are you working on now?

A:  Besides the three original plays opening in August, my longer-term plans for next August are for the third installment in my dance-theatre series Invisible Republic. The previous parts were That’s What We’re Here For in 2006 (mostly theatre, some dance), Everything Must Go in 2008 (about even dance/theatre) and this new untitled one for next year (more dance, less theatre). This is a series about how certain behind-the-scenes forces work in the USA (thus far, Propaganda, Advertising, and next, Branding) told through vigorous physicality and stream-of-consciousness monologues. I will also probably write another original play to accompany this, but I won’t know until early next year what that will be. I usually go away to visit family at the start of each year and decompress, and look at the world and think about, “What shows does THIS year seem to require?” until it comes to me, so I have no idea what 2012 will bring until I get there.

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 actually remember coming in to Kindergarten the day after seeing Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and forcing all the other kids, whether they had seen in or not, to reenact the film with me – with me in the role of Willy Wonka, of course (as well as “directing”). It was only last year, as I was creating my wedding as a piece of theatre at The Brick, that it struck me that I’ve been trying to become Willy Wonka ever since, but with my plays as my treats instead of chocolate.

Of course, after I mentioned this in the wedding-play, my friend Tim Cusack – a great actor/director – corrected me, saying I wasn’t trying to give everyone delicious new chocolates with my work, but odd new combinations of strange extant flavors that make people go “Ewww” when they see them, but then they try them, and they love them. Yeah, that sounds more accurate.

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

A:  Less fear. The atmosphere of terror sometimes amazes me. On a grand scale, the constant debate and concern over Theatre’s “place” in the country, or world, or in the Arts, or in Society, or what have you, is tiresome, pointless, self-indulgent, and makes us all look like scared rabbits. But in general, every action by so many people in the Theatre seems to be dictated by fear – fear of “failure” (whatever that is; your definition may vary) paralyzes so many people in our community from taking true steps forward and big risks all the damned time, that what the Work needs – the most important thing – seems to get lost in the shuffle of what everyone else is thinking that everything else “needs.”

Of course, I’m rather a lucky person in a kind of ivory tower situation, so it’s very very easy for me to talk about not having fear – failure in my work will not remove a roof from my head nor food from my table. Still, I feel so much of the community constantly looking at everything around the Work we should be doing more than the actual Work, as if it were merely an adjunct to a life-supporting system we all need rather than the cause for that system to exist in the first place.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Richard Foreman and Robert Wilson are at the top, no doubt, in terms of artists whose work I’ve been able to see and enjoy for years as it happens. From the past, Shakespeare and Beckett are my favorites and no one else comes near. At one time, now that I think of it, Peter Barnes was very important to me, and while his work doesn’t touch me the way it once did, I can still access those feelings easily with great pleasure (and I feel like I see his influence showing up more and more). At one time, when I despaired of finding any new playwriting interesting, finding Mac Wellman and Len Jenkin and Jeffrey M. Jones did a lot to excite me again. And Sarah Kane, though not as strong on many re-readings, gave me a serious kick in the pants when I finally read her collected work.

Spending most of my life wanting to make movies means that most of my creative heroes have been filmmakers, so I should mention Orson Welles, Stanley Kubrick, Jean-Luc Godard, David Lynch, Nicolas Roeg, Peter Greenaway, Ken Russell, and Powell & Pressburger, whose filmic styles have made me search for theatrical equivalents. And from literature, yes, Joyce, Nabokov, Hammett, Sontag, John Berger, William S. Burroughs, and a slew of others (currently, the spirit of the very-much-alive Samuel R. Delany is hanging around over my shoulder as I write the new plays . . .).

My real theatrical heroes, however, are the people who have been working in the Indie Theatre community of NYC with great devotion for years and years. We all know where the real work is happening.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Something I haven’t seen before that could only possibly work as a piece of theatre – moving it into any other art form, or even just trying to describe it, would be so reductive of the work as to be completely ridiculous. And seeing someone pull off the seemingly impossible in casually miraculous manner is an especial joy when it happens

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

A:  Learn everything you can about all aspects of the form – but this is what I say to anyone interested in anything to do with Theatre. Learn all you can about acting, directing, all forms of design – all of it will make you a better writer within the form. And learn all the supposed rules but don’t allow yourself to be hampered by them, especially if it means losing any part of your own distinctive voice. And see lots and lots of theatre, with kindly eyes. Even in the horrifying, look for what works. You’ll have a use for it.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  THE COLLISIONWORKS 2011: At The Ends (3 Terminal Plays/3 Ultimate Plays), which consists of the two-act play ObJects running in rep with the double-bill of one-acts Antrobus & Gone, will be opening on August 11 at The Brick and running through August 28. Information on the shows and tickets is available at The Brick’s website, www.bricktheater.com, and also on the Facebook pages for each show:

ObJects: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=230287530325852
Antrobus: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=247747448569676
Gone: https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=203131493070208

Jul 23, 2011

Places I have visited or lived since leaving NYC in '08

Minneapolis, MN
Independence, KS
Tulsa, OK
New York, NY
Atlanta, GA
Outer Banks, NC
Charleston, SC
Asheville, NC
Savannah, GA
Las Vegas, NV
East Haddam, CT
Little Pond, PA
Anaheim/Yorba Linda, CA
London, England
Philadelphia, PA
North Dartmouth, MA
San Francisco, CA
Chicago, IL
New Orleans, LA
Bloomington, IN
Lewisburg, WV
Croton On Hudson, NY
Boston, MA
Los Angeles, CA
Charlottesville, VA
Cape Girardeau, MO
Maynardville, TN
St. Louis, MO
Montreal, Quebec
Seattle, WA

Next: Ft. Myers, FL
Los Angeles/Big Bear, CA
Philadelphia again
and we are moving back to Brooklyn in Aug