Whew! Well, the first rotation is over. With such a short rehearsal period, there’s almost no time for reflection within the process. So I have some time for that now – after it’s up and running. I am Lab Producer for the second rotation, and so unlike my colleagues, I don’t go immediately into rehearsal for another show.
This first rotation I directed a play called "Language of Angels", by Naomi Iizuka. The play takes place in the cave country of North Carolina and centers around a young woman’s disappearance. When I first saw the Wedge, I thought this would be a great show for the space – the nooks and crannies and rickety architecture seemed perfect for the environment of the play. The first section of the play consists of a series of monologues describing the young woman’s disappearance. She disappeared in one of the hundreds of miles of caves, and was never found – her ghost and her death haunt the group of friends who were with her that night. The characters are in a variety of locations, speaking to unseen listeners, with the exception of one character, who is narrating his return to the cave and site of the girl’s disappearance. I wanted to use the whole space of the Wedge, with all its levels and entrances for the first section, so that all those moments take place in the cave. The play is an exploration of the dark corners of the past, and the way our choices haunt us for our lives, as much as it is a ghost story. The endless tunnels of underground caves of Appalachia are both the physical and the metaphorical setting for this play, and I wanted the environment to surround the audience, with entrances and voices coming from all around them, from unexpected directions. I wanted to use shafts of light to illuminate the speakers, as well as candles and flashlights. These choices presented a number of rehearsal challenges. We worked in a studio that was about half the size of the Wedge, and, of course, lacked a balcony. The very nature of my approach to staging made it an exercise in spatial imagination – as we didn’t have the levels, or the nooks and crannies, it was very hard to visualize how the staging was coming together, and the relationship of the stage picture to the audience.
Spacing and tech both addressed these challenges and increased them. We had limited time, but we could finally place the staging in context, and I changed a number of things to suit the actual space (which differed in numerous small ways from my imagination of the space) as well as the limits of the lights. We had a few “shafts” of light, but they were less shaft-y than I hoped, and were limiting the staging possibilities. I wanted to use the far corners of the Wedge, but there was no light there. So we moved a few moments, and added actor-driven lighting (flashlights) for a few additional moments deep in the cave. We rehearsed in the studio when we weren’t slotted for tech time in those last few days before opening. It was so exciting to get into the space, and so frustrating to then be parted from it! We had plenty of work we could do, some of which was restaging a large chunk of the second section to better suit the space, now that we’d actually been in it and seen the tricky sightlines. But this is usually the stage of the process where you’re polishing the show, working to make rhythms precise and tight, making sure the spacing is exactly what it needs to be, and these were things we couldn’t do in the studio! It meant that dress rehearsal, as well as the first performance, remained shaky, and where the technical staff as well as the actors were making the mistakes they would ordinarily have made earlier in the process. While I was ultimately pleased with the show, especially given the challenges of the short time, and the space, and enjoyed the environmental use of the space, I do think that ultimately the first part remained a little messy, and wished I could have found a way to keep the staging as environmental and space specific without the stuttering rhythm we occasionally ended up with. It was also an exercise in understanding that that is the nature of risk: you have to give up a little bit of control, in this case, over the perfection of the event, when I made the choice to ground all the staging in the specifics of the space.
"Language" was a great lesson in trying to make space-specific staging outside the space. Knowing what I know now, I also would have used even more actor-driven lighting, which we then could have rehearsed outside our limited tech time. But while the results were a little shaky on opening, particularly in the first section, it was also exciting and rewarding to commit so fully to use all corners of the space as it is, and I think I did achieve one of my big goals: to invite the audience into the world of this play, engaging all their senses in their experience of the play. It was worth it, even though I still struggle with, and will continue to struggle with, what I feel to be the technical sloppiness of the first part of the play.
One of the great joys and success of the process as well, has to do with my collaborators. I worked with a wonderful group of actors who managed to turn in fully realized, committed performances in an extremely short period of time, and a design team who worked heard to capture the physical and emotional world of the play, and kept perfecting things up to the last minute.
Can't wait to do it again!
Tamara
Monday, June 18, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
Reflections on a Rare Quiet Night
I have absolutely nowhere to be.
This is the first day I’ve been able to say that in four weeks. And it is merely because yesterday I finished directing one show and tomorrow I begin directing the next one. They give us a night off to reflect. Or to sleep.
For now I’m reflecting, though sleep is certainly coming soon. As I’m reflecting, I’m reminded that three weeks and one day ago, I was planning on directing a Clifford Odets play called “Till The Day I Die.” Three weeks ago exactly I changed my mind and decided to direct a production of “Romeo and Juliet” from Juliet’s perspective, with abstract dream sequences to connect the dots. I had come here to try new things, take risks, and scare myself. I felt rather sure this production would make me try new things, take risks and scare myself. Rather sure.
And then a simple bonding activity changed everything. The four Drama League directors decided to see Spider-Man 3. Yes, Spider-Man 3. We got home from our trillionth meeting, did a read-thru of a rough cut of the play I had done the night before, headed to Applebee’s (I write this as I mourn our first Friday night NOT going to Applebee’s) and then saw Spider-Man 3. And as we watched this horrendous, incredible, absurd movie, I noticed that the absurdity of MJstandards to reflect her position on love could perfectly match the absurdity of a “Romeo and Juliet” from only Juliet’s perspective. So a mere 8 hours before my first design meeting, inspired by Spider-Man 3, I readjusted my concept.
There was no doubt this was new for me, risky and absolutely petrifying.
The fact that this production opened two nights ago is surreal. That I directed a production from concept to production in 18 days is absurd, and is exactly what is so rewarding about being here. There is no time to think, no time to judge, and no time to cut ideas cause they might not work – there is barely time to execute them to see if they work.
Has it been frustrating? Incredibly. The multiple tasks of working on Shakespeare’s language, adding four musical numbers, cutting the play, staging the play, in addition to simply getting into the routine of this place has been overwhelming at times, and certainly unbearable at moments. There have been multiple moments where I’ve been shocked by things that have happened (subtly expressing this with exclamations of “No! NO! I’m shocked! Shocked. This is shocking!”), moments where I’ve been thrilled by discoveries about the work, myself, and the creative potential of those around me, and moments where I’ve wondered what I’ve gotten myself into.
It’s in those moments, however, that I am most fully able to articulate what I’ve gotten myself into: a community of supportive, nurturing, collaborative directors who inspire me every day; a theatre that from administration staff through production staff is excited and inspired by the work that we do in a corner of their lobby; a group of actors willing to work their hardest every day to stretch themselves and help us stretch ourselves; a group of designers constantly trying to make the impossible possible, and succeeding.
It’s been an extraordinary few weeks, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of the summer brings.
Michael
This is the first day I’ve been able to say that in four weeks. And it is merely because yesterday I finished directing one show and tomorrow I begin directing the next one. They give us a night off to reflect. Or to sleep.
For now I’m reflecting, though sleep is certainly coming soon. As I’m reflecting, I’m reminded that three weeks and one day ago, I was planning on directing a Clifford Odets play called “Till The Day I Die.” Three weeks ago exactly I changed my mind and decided to direct a production of “Romeo and Juliet” from Juliet’s perspective, with abstract dream sequences to connect the dots. I had come here to try new things, take risks, and scare myself. I felt rather sure this production would make me try new things, take risks and scare myself. Rather sure.
And then a simple bonding activity changed everything. The four Drama League directors decided to see Spider-Man 3. Yes, Spider-Man 3. We got home from our trillionth meeting, did a read-thru of a rough cut of the play I had done the night before, headed to Applebee’s (I write this as I mourn our first Friday night NOT going to Applebee’s) and then saw Spider-Man 3. And as we watched this horrendous, incredible, absurd movie, I noticed that the absurdity of MJstandards to reflect her position on love could perfectly match the absurdity of a “Romeo and Juliet” from only Juliet’s perspective. So a mere 8 hours before my first design meeting, inspired by Spider-Man 3, I readjusted my concept.
There was no doubt this was new for me, risky and absolutely petrifying.
The fact that this production opened two nights ago is surreal. That I directed a production from concept to production in 18 days is absurd, and is exactly what is so rewarding about being here. There is no time to think, no time to judge, and no time to cut ideas cause they might not work – there is barely time to execute them to see if they work.
Has it been frustrating? Incredibly. The multiple tasks of working on Shakespeare’s language, adding four musical numbers, cutting the play, staging the play, in addition to simply getting into the routine of this place has been overwhelming at times, and certainly unbearable at moments. There have been multiple moments where I’ve been shocked by things that have happened (subtly expressing this with exclamations of “No! NO! I’m shocked! Shocked. This is shocking!”), moments where I’ve been thrilled by discoveries about the work, myself, and the creative potential of those around me, and moments where I’ve wondered what I’ve gotten myself into.
It’s in those moments, however, that I am most fully able to articulate what I’ve gotten myself into: a community of supportive, nurturing, collaborative directors who inspire me every day; a theatre that from administration staff through production staff is excited and inspired by the work that we do in a corner of their lobby; a group of actors willing to work their hardest every day to stretch themselves and help us stretch ourselves; a group of designers constantly trying to make the impossible possible, and succeeding.
It’s been an extraordinary few weeks, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of the summer brings.
Michael
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Notes from the Underground, or A First Foray into Directing Children's Theater, or The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done
What a ridiculously quick first rotation! And what a challenging one!
My first few weeks in Ithaca have been consumed by a little play called THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER. And while I like to fancy myself a director whose sense of humor and wit displays at least some sense of sophistication and intelligence, I had to consciously put all that aside to direct a show that was advertised to be enjoyed by anyone over the age of 4.
Let it be said that I have no personal knowledge of what a four-year-old likes or does not like, as I have not had the opportunity to spend much time around anyone at that particular developmental stage. So my first rotation was spent making several assumptions about the mind of a toddler that were potentially way off base. The one thing I did know was that my old standby--irony--was not going to play well to the little tykes.
With only a week and a half of rehearsal, I set about approaching the play as I would any piece of text by Williams or Shakespeare. I decided to focus our collective energies into creating a world of broad strokes and colorful costumes rather than spending any time on subtlety or subtext. And, most importantly, I think, whenever I thought the play was getting boring, I put in a chase scene or a pop song and dance number.
I focused on creating the world out of found objects. I wanted the kids to see this play and know that they could go home and make it themselves. The anthill was a pile of sheets and blankets set up to look like some kind of living room fort. The actors playing ants wore colanders on their rears and helmets on their heads (complete with springs for antennae). The flowers were made of plastic plates and swimming pool noodles. In the end, the design is perhaps the most vividly realized of any show I've conceived.
Add to that a soundtrack complete with David Bowie, the Jackson Five, Mariah Carey and Abba, and I think what ultimately happened was a real theatrical experience for these kids.
Granted there are moments when the play gets too "talky" and the kids start squirming in their seats. But put on a piece of music, and they're suddenly right back in the action, clapping along and shouting out directives to the characters.
The experience was a difficult one for me. But the end result was worth the struggles during the process. Perhaps the big pay-off came when I walked into the theater to see a lone kid on the stage with his teachers. He was blind, and the teachers were letting him feel the set so that he knew what he would be "watching" in a few minutes. They then took him backstage to the actors, where he felt all of the actors' faces while each of them described what he or she was wearing and who his or her character was. That child's life was brightened, I think, in a very simple way. And it made me remember what was at the core of the creation of theater to begin with.
I can't wait to see what happens in Rotation 2!
Best,
Kerry
My first few weeks in Ithaca have been consumed by a little play called THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER. And while I like to fancy myself a director whose sense of humor and wit displays at least some sense of sophistication and intelligence, I had to consciously put all that aside to direct a show that was advertised to be enjoyed by anyone over the age of 4.
Let it be said that I have no personal knowledge of what a four-year-old likes or does not like, as I have not had the opportunity to spend much time around anyone at that particular developmental stage. So my first rotation was spent making several assumptions about the mind of a toddler that were potentially way off base. The one thing I did know was that my old standby--irony--was not going to play well to the little tykes.
With only a week and a half of rehearsal, I set about approaching the play as I would any piece of text by Williams or Shakespeare. I decided to focus our collective energies into creating a world of broad strokes and colorful costumes rather than spending any time on subtlety or subtext. And, most importantly, I think, whenever I thought the play was getting boring, I put in a chase scene or a pop song and dance number.
I focused on creating the world out of found objects. I wanted the kids to see this play and know that they could go home and make it themselves. The anthill was a pile of sheets and blankets set up to look like some kind of living room fort. The actors playing ants wore colanders on their rears and helmets on their heads (complete with springs for antennae). The flowers were made of plastic plates and swimming pool noodles. In the end, the design is perhaps the most vividly realized of any show I've conceived.
Add to that a soundtrack complete with David Bowie, the Jackson Five, Mariah Carey and Abba, and I think what ultimately happened was a real theatrical experience for these kids.
Granted there are moments when the play gets too "talky" and the kids start squirming in their seats. But put on a piece of music, and they're suddenly right back in the action, clapping along and shouting out directives to the characters.
The experience was a difficult one for me. But the end result was worth the struggles during the process. Perhaps the big pay-off came when I walked into the theater to see a lone kid on the stage with his teachers. He was blind, and the teachers were letting him feel the set so that he knew what he would be "watching" in a few minutes. They then took him backstage to the actors, where he felt all of the actors' faces while each of them described what he or she was wearing and who his or her character was. That child's life was brightened, I think, in a very simple way. And it made me remember what was at the core of the creation of theater to begin with.
I can't wait to see what happens in Rotation 2!
Best,
Kerry
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
The First Rotation Comes to an End!
Well I think we have officially postponed starting this blog long enough, and now as we end our first rotation we have run out of excuses. So here goes - I'll be the brave one to break the ice.
Today marks the opening of our first round of plays. We do four rounds throughout the summer, with each of the four of us directing in three of the rotations. This first cycle I was the Lab Producer, meaning I spent the time supporting my fellow directors and overseeing the lab company while Kerry, Mikey and Tamara directed their shows. Kerry's kids show, The Ant and the Grasshopper opened this morning at 10am to 370 hyperactive children, but nonetheless proved a wonderful success. Tamara's production of Naomi Iizuka's Language of Angels was the next up at 5:30 this evening, and then Mikey's adaptation Juliet and her Romeo opened to a fuller-than-full house at 10pm. All in all a day of a LOT of theater for the Hangar (the mainstage, show, Doubt, still played at 8pm, as did a second performance of Ant at 12pm). It's amazing how much good theater we all are able to cram into one day.
Also amazing is how unbelievably fast everything happens around here. Our first day of this rotation was something like eleven days ago. The actors arrived just over two weeks ago. We spent the first couple days gettting to know them, teaching them "master classes" (no complaints from us on this whole "master" business), and holding auditions. After three days of this we arrived at the longest day of our entire lives, in which the four of us, with the help of Kevin Moriarty, had to cast the 26 members of the Lab Company in the season. All 26 had to be in 4 shows, one of which had to be a kids play...AND each actor had to have at least one large role and one small role. The five of us literally sat in a room for eight and a half hours working and reworking the various lists. At the end of the day, bruised and bleeding, we emerged from our secret lair and ran as fast as we could to our absolute favorite location in Ithaca. A place we like to call...Applebee's...and sucked down as many margaritas as humanly possible. The next morning, with hangovers from the casting as well as the tequila, we began rehearsals.
(note: yes, you have heard right, ithaca is one of the sleeper culinary hits in the northeast, and yet somehow - and i'm naming kerry whigham as the major culpable party - applebee's has become "our place". i've tried to protest, but to no avail. so, if you can't beat em...try the fiesta lime chicken).
I'll let the others write about their individual rehearsal processes, but what I will say is that it's been a true pleasure to watch my fellow directors create three incredibly unique and really excellent pieces of theater. I was a little uncertain about this whole lab producer gig, but it's given me such a great opportunity to observe these three passionate, talented directors. I have taken something away from each of them. From Mikey, I've been reminded of how important it is to find a personal message in your work, no matter how risky or controversial - and that pushing out of your comfort zone is a constant struggle, but a necessary and rewarding one. From Tamara I've learned what a gift great casting is, and how to constantly push (or allow) the actors to live in the characters without pretense or condescension. And from Kerry - that a strong concept can really revolutionize a show, even when it's a play for 7-year-olds, and that sometimes the things that appear simplest can be the most intimidating, but even then if you allow yourself to feel the fear, that you can push through it and really exceed your expectations.
So all in all, the first quarter of the summer has been a smashing success (she said modestly). We have some real standout designers and a brave, talented company of actors. On Saturday we begin rehearsals for the next rotation - when I will be directing Metamorphoses by Mary Zimmerman. Today I found out we can rig up a swing in the Wedge, and a hammock (no, i'm not using any water, so we're thinking outside the box) so I couldn't be happier. See you at the end of Rotation 2 with a few more gray hairs, even less sleep, and maybe a bit of newfound wisdom.
Kate Pines
Today marks the opening of our first round of plays. We do four rounds throughout the summer, with each of the four of us directing in three of the rotations. This first cycle I was the Lab Producer, meaning I spent the time supporting my fellow directors and overseeing the lab company while Kerry, Mikey and Tamara directed their shows. Kerry's kids show, The Ant and the Grasshopper opened this morning at 10am to 370 hyperactive children, but nonetheless proved a wonderful success. Tamara's production of Naomi Iizuka's Language of Angels was the next up at 5:30 this evening, and then Mikey's adaptation Juliet and her Romeo opened to a fuller-than-full house at 10pm. All in all a day of a LOT of theater for the Hangar (the mainstage, show, Doubt, still played at 8pm, as did a second performance of Ant at 12pm). It's amazing how much good theater we all are able to cram into one day.
Also amazing is how unbelievably fast everything happens around here. Our first day of this rotation was something like eleven days ago. The actors arrived just over two weeks ago. We spent the first couple days gettting to know them, teaching them "master classes" (no complaints from us on this whole "master" business), and holding auditions. After three days of this we arrived at the longest day of our entire lives, in which the four of us, with the help of Kevin Moriarty, had to cast the 26 members of the Lab Company in the season. All 26 had to be in 4 shows, one of which had to be a kids play...AND each actor had to have at least one large role and one small role. The five of us literally sat in a room for eight and a half hours working and reworking the various lists. At the end of the day, bruised and bleeding, we emerged from our secret lair and ran as fast as we could to our absolute favorite location in Ithaca. A place we like to call...Applebee's...and sucked down as many margaritas as humanly possible. The next morning, with hangovers from the casting as well as the tequila, we began rehearsals.
(note: yes, you have heard right, ithaca is one of the sleeper culinary hits in the northeast, and yet somehow - and i'm naming kerry whigham as the major culpable party - applebee's has become "our place". i've tried to protest, but to no avail. so, if you can't beat em...try the fiesta lime chicken).
I'll let the others write about their individual rehearsal processes, but what I will say is that it's been a true pleasure to watch my fellow directors create three incredibly unique and really excellent pieces of theater. I was a little uncertain about this whole lab producer gig, but it's given me such a great opportunity to observe these three passionate, talented directors. I have taken something away from each of them. From Mikey, I've been reminded of how important it is to find a personal message in your work, no matter how risky or controversial - and that pushing out of your comfort zone is a constant struggle, but a necessary and rewarding one. From Tamara I've learned what a gift great casting is, and how to constantly push (or allow) the actors to live in the characters without pretense or condescension. And from Kerry - that a strong concept can really revolutionize a show, even when it's a play for 7-year-olds, and that sometimes the things that appear simplest can be the most intimidating, but even then if you allow yourself to feel the fear, that you can push through it and really exceed your expectations.
So all in all, the first quarter of the summer has been a smashing success (she said modestly). We have some real standout designers and a brave, talented company of actors. On Saturday we begin rehearsals for the next rotation - when I will be directing Metamorphoses by Mary Zimmerman. Today I found out we can rig up a swing in the Wedge, and a hammock (no, i'm not using any water, so we're thinking outside the box) so I couldn't be happier. See you at the end of Rotation 2 with a few more gray hairs, even less sleep, and maybe a bit of newfound wisdom.
Kate Pines
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