radicality in dialogue

December 17, 2011 at 9:46 pm

Something that struck me in my research on my Greek adaptation Steelbound was the article I found from one of the cast members and then the company and playwright’s reaction to it.  The Sarah Brady argues about the radicality of the piece and criticizes the entire process throughout the article.  The others respond in fury and outrage.  When I wad first reading through Brady’s article, I thought she was being so heartless and crash about the work on the show.  However, when I read through the responses to her article and her response back, I realized that none of them were in the know.  I know that I become extremely vulnerable about any work that I’m involved with, so I understand why Cornerstone and Touchstone members responded the way they did.  They were outraged! Of course!  They put so much of themselves into the show and it were truly generous in doing so for the community.  But they way that they dealt with Brady made me feel uneasy.  Theatre is such a vast form.  Art is an overwhelming form.  NO ONE will ever be right because there is no right or wrong.  There is opinion and imagination and heart.  We all view art the way we will and no one else has control over that.  The playwright of the piece said that Brady should feel ashamed for what she wrote, Brady replied by explaining that she was proud her opinions caused such a response.  It was weird.  And it wasn’t weird that they disagreed, but it was strange the way they were treating each other.  At school, the main thing I’ve learned is that we HAVE to respect each other, even if we don’t agree with that person.  And yes, it can be a difficult task at times, but as a generation of new artists, I see people doing that every day in class, maybe not all the time, but the respect is there.  I can’t speak for them especially because I’m not in there position, but Brady had every right to feel the way that she did and aspire to provoke change in her fellow artists, rather than letting them coast.  Another thing that this brought up to me was the specificity of words that is so incredibly emphasized in our work here.  Reading the articles, I realized how many ideas were muddled because the better words weren’t chosen.  I’m even having trouble thinking, because I’m not on anyone’s side in this situation, they both have validity in their arguments.  But I’m realizing now how important all this is, and that how much of a blessing it is to be confronted with these ideas now.  To start using the words I actually mean to use, and to be able to have heated discussions with my peers and still be able to eat dinner with them after class.  How much of a blessing it would be for my generation to have that!  And grow with it to create a community of theatre artists who are more willing to listen to other’s criticisms and actually learn something from it.  This is so important, and I want to focus on this in my next processes.  It will be challenging, but so incredibly fruitful.

By ofine | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Pigpen theatre co.

December 17, 2011 at 9:13 pm

w-pigpen-nightmare_story-5This was my first post, but I just realized that I messed up the blogs earlier and it didn't post on the group one, but my individual one?  I don't know but here it is!!

Pigpen theatre co. is an upcoming group of seven fantastic young men who joined together to create stories that are heartwarming, fierce, and utterly embracing.  Arya Shahi, Ben Ferguson, Dan Weschler, Ryan Melia, Curtis Gillen, Alex Falberg, and Matt Nuernberger started the project while studying acting at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh Pennyslvania. The Mountain Song, The Nightmare Story, The Old Man and The Old Moon, The Hunter and The Bear are four of their stories.

Pigpen entered the New York National Fringe Festival last year and won for general excellence which jumped started them on their move to New York City.  I don't know if I recommend reading the entirety of the article attached, most of it seems somewhat frivolous to me and doesn't focus on what pigpen actually does.  It does give some information though, and some validity to what I've already stated.

Pigpen's use of shadow puppetry is mystical and makes you feel like your twelve years old again.  They all accompany the show with their own live original music, which is outstanding to say the least.  They use their bodies and light to really create the stories and bring them to life.  They obtain such great sense of play, youth, and imagination that is a gift to everyone, not just children or grandmothers or critics.  I feel that those elements have been missing in the theatre I've seen recently.  And I speak only from experience, I know there is a lot out there that I haven't seen.  Their drive to be something and to carry on their work they started years ago is so inspiring to me.  They really stretched the border of what theatre can become and the different ways it can reach out and impact everyone who witnesses it.  They reminded me why I wanted to be involved with this art to begin with.  And like all theatre, I really think you just have to go and see for yourself how amazing it is.

Pigpen will be performing "The Nightmare Story" throughout the month of October at the Irondale Arts Center in New York.  Go see it.

By ofine | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

The Future of Theatre

December 17, 2011 at 9:01 pm

Found this really important article that we should all read. The piece, found on the Harvard magazine website, is about the direction theatre may or may not be heading. You should read the whole thing but I'm just going to pull out some things that struck me as important or surprising...

  • Andre Gregory (actor, director, playwright) states: “Broadway isn’t theater. That’s show business.” He distinguishes “passive theater doesn’t force you or seduce you or charm you into asking questions, that tells you what to look at onstage, and when you come out, you say, ‘Gee, that was good!’ or ‘Harry Sterns sang that song well!’”—from "active theater which demands that you ask serious, challenging questions of your own life, the culture, and the society we live in. The live actor performing something like King Lear, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, orDeath of a Salesman is extremely disturbing. The question is: Is there an audience for that?”

I love his distinction between passive theatre and active theatre but I'm concerned in this statement. Who is to say what a play does to its audience? It is impossible to flavor a show as passive or active, unless it is only a personal response to an experience. To say that broadway is not theatre? I just can't get behind this idea. And I really don't think its because of my age or my generation filled with technology and media. It probably has a lot to do with our program here in Boston. There are numerous "active" theatre pieces on broadway now. Plays and musicals that prove without doubt that it is not about show business. IN my mind at least. The last show I saw on broadway was War Horse and to say that that did not force me to ask questions and challenge the world I'm living in? Impossible! I find it hard to believe that the caliber of that show doesn't make it "theatre".  It has inherinent basic theatrical devices, puppets? music?, throughout. And by god, there certainly is an audience in that house every night. Its nearly impossible to get tickets to the show. And how many of those audience members would deam that "passive" ? I think very little - but I can't speak for them.

  • “Broadway is an expensive business,” McGrath says. “It is mainstream theater—it’s not designed to be experimental, just as movie studios don’t produce the same material as independent filmmakers.”

Not experimental? I don't know how I feel about this either. I understand that Broadway can be viewed as commerical and "safe" but take a look at an example like Book of Mormon. How is this not the most experimental piece of theatre on broadway right now? Sure, the status the creators have as the writers of the popular and commericalized tv show South Park, but a musical comedy about the lives of Mormons in Africa? I don't understand the thought things on Broadway can't push potential and rock things up a bit. Look at Rent. That one show, that was radical in its opening in 1997 has paved a huge road for rock musicals to be born in New York. Last year's popular Oscar Wilde comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest had Brian Bedford, who also directed the production, play a crossing dressing Lady Bracknell. A show all about idenity mistakes and confusions - what a smart, witty, effective and highly experimental choice. It wasn't blown out of proportion as you may imagine a completely radical adapation of Wilde's play could be but it is certainly not "mainstream". I think its easy to gloss over Broadway as being commerical and mainstream but its more important to find the glimpses of effective and innovation direction, acting and production concepts within the shows on Broadway.

  • Finally, Diane Paulus, director at ART brings up a wonderful and refreshing perspective, especially for us as students of the theatre:

"There's a syndrome in  our profession—to blame the audience, especially young people... ‘They don’t want to go to the theater anymore—why? They don’t have attention spans. They’d rather be in control, with their personal handheld devices. There are too many entertainment choices. We’re a depraved culture.’ I’ve always found this deadening, because it doesn’t give you any room to change. We have to flip that analysis and say, ‘Maybe it’s us—maybe it’s the arts producers. Not just the writers and actors but the whole machine—perhaps we have to do a better job of inviting this audience back to the theater. Have they left? Yes. Have they not developed the habit of coming? Yes. Is it their fault? No!”

Yes, Diane!! This has everything to do with what we learned about being Dramaturgs. As a class, we have definately sharped our knowledge of audience. What play serves a particular audience? what do those people need from theatre? in what ways can we get the correct audience in our theatre?  I love this philogsophy. It doens't place blame on anyone else but yourself as a theatre company, or as an individual artist. It's more empowering (but often harder) to put it on yourself to make way for a new type of theatre or get a certain type of audience back on your side. Clear examples are seen all around us - think about our two latest graduate directing thesis' - both productions pushed for a new audience. A new way of viewing a piece of theatre. They are taking the opportunities to risk and create something experimental.

that is all. read the article!

By dkeohane | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

picture this

December 17, 2011 at 8:04 pm

bluedragon26rv5_1345852cl-8 Rummaging through the Guardian, I stumbled across an article  about Robert Lepage, playwright of The Blue Dragon, and how he decided to  transform his script into a graphic novel, rather than publishing the  original script.  Looking at the excerpts from the novel I thought the idea  was amazing.  It fully explodes the world.  It is such a unique outlet because  everything becomes so extremely specific and clear the first time you are  confronted with the text.  I am a huge fan of graphic novels because they are  able to capture the extreme complexities of life in such a personal and  intricate way.  So my hesitancy towards this idea has absolutely nothing to  do with the fact that it is a graphic novel.  Just get that notion out of the  way.  But, the first thing I thought about when I read this was does and/or when does this new script become a detriment to the work?  It’s a great idea and the playwright’s desire to present his play clearly from his mind to the world makes complete sense to me.  But I can only imagine that this exclusive script might stifle the work that is always associated with approaching a new piece of text.  Because the discoveries about the world have already been handed to the artist, it leaves no room for their own imagination.  You have the characters’ expressions on the page, their costumes, the set, the mood, the tone, the colors, and the entire world in your hands to see and look at.  And yes, sometimes setting up parameters to work in can be extremely helpful to an artist, but does it become a disadvantage when those boundaries are already filled with someone else’s world?  I completely understand how the playwright feels about when reading plays strictly for pleasure it can be a somewhat “incomplete experience”.  I can’t help but think about Edward Albee, his work and the fact that I do think every playwright has the right to determine how his worlds are created.  But even more so I believe that in playwriting, one should be acquainted with the idea that they are creating an art form where interpretation is inevitable.  An art that is not going be hung on a wall or looked at in a book, an art that is created so that others can bring those words to life in accordance to how they understand them, and not by how others want them understood.  But another artist could feel completely different about this piece and find themselves discovering more about it through the use of the novel and that’s great!  So yes I have my quarries, but I am really excited to read this play.

This was also featured in the article.  CHECK IT OUT! Manga Shakespeare.

By ofine | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Frank Wedekind is Rolling in His Grave

December 16, 2011 at 4:35 pm

Alright, so there were a few things I wanted to post this week, but I have to start with this because I found it so unbelievably, mindbogglingly strange that I couldn't help but share it. Remember that cycle of plays by Frank Wedekind that we read in freshman year? Lulu, the story of a woman who entranced the men she met and destroyed them, only to be destroyed herself? Yeah, I do too. I remember enjoying it. And then I stumbled across this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LWtb621DRg

WHY. I mean, what is this. Seriously. It's among the worst music I have ever heard. It sounds like someone threw a bunch of electric guitars, fuzz pedals, and percussion instruments into a room full of orangutans, held Lou Reed at gunpoint, and forced him to dub his voice over the whole thing. And the best part? It's a completely sincere, serious work of art.

I'm surprised I hadn't heard of this album earlier, to be honest. Apparently it was a pretty big deal. So much of a big deal that Metallica found themselves breaking down into tears during recording sessions because what they heard was so beautiful. I can't make this stuff up.

But all judgments on the quality of the music aside, this collaboration brings up a damned interesting question for me. Because if, in the end, the album succeeds in exposing thousands of people to a theatrical work they would never have otherwise read, isn't that a good thing? If Lulu moved these guys so much that they felt compelled to invest months of their time and millions of dollars into recording and promoting an album dedicated to it, doesn't that show artistic integrity?

I guess it would be easier to defend them if the album wasn't so terrible. (I dare you to make it more than halfway through that video.) Having a quality final product goes a long way towards justifying a concept, after all. In the end, though, can I - or anyone else, for that matter - judge Metallica or Lou Reed for making such a bold choice? They found something that inspired them and went into it full-force, probably knowing from the start that what they were trying to accomplish was both unconventional and altogether odd. That's what I need to know, I suppose: does having good intentions for a work of art justify its creation? Or are there subjects and genres which certain artists need to stay out of, regardless of how much they want to participate in them?

I would rather they stay away from the theater in the future. Yet I wonder if it's a little harsh to bash them for making an attempt at adapting Wedekind's story. After all, the Lulu plays are excellent plays, and there's no rule against interpreting them however one wishes.

By atsiegel | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

It’s Raining Apples!

December 16, 2011 at 3:35 pm

While checking my e-mail today, I saw this astonishing headline on Yahoo News: "Unexplained shower of apples falls from sky over town" Apparently, "More than 100 apples mysteriously rained down upon a small British town on Monday night. The still-unexplained apple shower left 20 yards of city streets and car windshields covered in the cascading fruit just after the daily rush hour."  Woah!  Crazy! So the first thing that many people might think of is:  The Bible!!  Frogs rain down from the sky in there, and since it is a document that governs so much of America, why would this be weird?  Don't freak out, it's just the lord.  Giving us a little bump on the head!  A reminder to wake up!  Ok, so I am being sarcastic.  but why not?  So many people believe the Bible verbatim, as literal truth, so why would people be surprised that apples are falling from the sky?  And yet people are surprised.  Apparently Biblical truths only exist when convenient (for some people, I'm not generalizing all Christians here, just the fanatics).  Apples during rush hour?  Not so convenient. But those hardcore literalists that really do practice what they preach are calling the apple shower a miracle. Scientists have tried to explain the shower too.  They are saying that the apples must have gotten swept up in a hurricane, then the wind lost pressure right over the town.  Both science and religion are a way of explaining the unknown.  What I think is truly magical about this apple shower though, is that we can't explain it!  We can't explain how it happened, we can only try to contextualize it for ourselves.  Contextualize....does that remind you of something?....Oh yes!  Dramaturgy!  With dramaturgy we are perhaps more able to look at the lineage of a piece of work and understand where is came from.  but in the end, what we really do is contextualize it within this moment.  Here and now.  We look to the past to understand the present. Everyone has a different framework in which to make sense of the apples, just as we all have different frameworks to make sense of art.  It is exciting to me that we don't know, and may never know, where the apples came from, how they fell from the sky.  We only know that they did.  And there's something magical in that.  Just as there's something magical in that divine spark of inspiration that leads one to create art.  We receive the apple, then we try and make something of it.  I hope that we never figure out where the apples came from, or why we feel that spark of inspiration.  I hope some mystery remains to push us on, to remind us of the magic in the world.  to remind us that we don't know everything.  To push us to question what we do know, and to always have some wonder at the universe.

By sdecker | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

When Theatre and Government Collide (A situation in Budapest)

December 16, 2011 at 1:02 am

If a theatre company exhibits racist tendencies, should the government be allowed to intervene? Its something we don't really think about right now in the U.S., as far as I know. If a theatre were racist, I  would hope that it would simply get little to no support and subsequently tank. But in Hungary right now the question of government intervention into theatrical affairs is a hot button issue, one that spans from theatre to government to international relations.

Mayor of Budapest, Hungary, Istvan Tarlos, has moved to override the appointment of an artistic director at Budapest's New Theatre, a theatre currently seeking to ban all non-Hungarian plays from its stage.

It seems like a bold intervention, until you learn that not only has Tarlos moved to quash this appointment, but was responsible for appointing the theatre's new resident director just months earlier. This fact is what truly baffled me, much more so than the mayor's intervention to stagnate racial tendencies. I was alarmed that the mayor would be responsible for an artistic appointment in any capacity. Valiant though his efforts to quell this situation seem, its actually Tarlos who fanned the flames in the first place.

Gyorgy Dorner was recently hired as the artistic director for the New theatre in Budapest, his employment sponsored by Tarlos.  SO what's the big deal? Well, unfortunately both Gyorgy Dorner and recently terminated artistic director-playwright Istvan Csurka are both members of a extremist right wing political party and have published anti-semetic literature, plays and displayed anti-semetic tendencies. Apparently when Tarlos appointed Dorner there was extreme public outcry. Subsequently Dorner went on to hire Csurka (who is also, coincidentally not only a member of the extremist party but a politician as well as a playwright) as artistic Director of the New Theatre.

Apparently TWO right wing extremists in ONE theatre is just too much for the public of Hungary (Can't blame them there) and amid public pressure Tarlos moved to terminate Csurka's position this week. However, in his termination of Csurka's position he stated that Csurka's plays would not be banned from performance at the theatre.

This is as far as the conflict has progressed, but it will be interesting to see what Dorner's next move is. Perhaps he appointed Csurka in an effort to move the New Theatre towards a certain agreed upon political bent, but his plan has been foiled. Who will he appoint next? I'll be very interested to see, also, what the theatre's first production is in the aftermath of this conflict.

PLEASE WATCH THIS ("A neo-nazi theatre is being created.") :

By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

IN CHARACTER: The Genius of a Facilitator!

December 16, 2011 at 12:09 am

I think often about how as actors and dramaturgs, the work that we do is not often recognized outside the scope of the theatre. If you are a soccer player, it is evident that you have physical skill, if you are a (lucky) author, you can hold your work in your hands, as can a visual artist, and our parents all wanted us to be lawyers and doctors or ACCOUNTANTS so no need to elaborate there.

BUT I am particularly elated to post on a man who is an artist and a facilitator of other artists-- Actors! I am sure that many of  you have heard of Howard Schatz, and if you aren't familiar with his name, you have probably seen his work. Howard Schatz is a professional photographer who works in many subject areas, but he enjoys documenting the lives or professions of specific people. For example, he has a series in which he documents Cirque de Soiliel, as well as a series depicting the bodies of boxers.

However, what you know Howard Schatz for-- consciously or not-- is his series for Vanity Fair called In Character. It is a series of portraits of actors, most displayed in a set of three photographs, in which the actors have been asked to emote their expression in three made up situations. Although his photographs are primarily of actors who appear in film, it is a wonderful representation of work. Yes, it is mostly comedic, but if you look at the captions (what they were asked to emote) it is usually right on! (And if it's not good....its stands out)

What made me want to post about this, however, has less to do with the artistry of the photographs (Which is amazing and please peruse Schatz's website, especially his underwater photography, to get a sense of his artistry) and more to do with the artistic partnership in this situation.

I often have lamented that I cannot really "prove my salt" to others unless they witness my work in real-time. To see this work encapsulated as Schatz does is so gratifying. Even for film actors who can have their work replayed I feel that what Schatz has captured here is a boon. It is an opportunity to get a quick (if comedic) impression of someone's work-- and its corporeal! I think it would behoove us to do something like this for resumes or head-shots. It may sound silly, but I think it would be fantastic.

As I said it is also a testament to the benefits of artistic partnerships. Here, Schatz get to do his work and the actors get to do theirs, to the benefit of all. I feel that this is exemplary of what we aspire to in the theatre arts major at CFA. As my education progresses, I gravitate more and more to partnerships like this, and this way of creating art. I am grateful for Howard Schatz's example.

Melissa Leo (Photographed by Howard Schatz)

Melissa Leo (Photographed by Howard Schatz)

View the entire series of In Character here!

By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Flush the Walls!!

December 15, 2011 at 11:57 pm

While reading arts blog the Exhibitionist, I came across a post about bathroom art ‘taking over’ the MFA.  The post was dated June 2011. Apparently at that time, “The bathrooms bordering the new Art of the Americas wing at the Museum of Fine Arts have been taken over by a group of artists looking to commemorate the anniversary of "Flush the Walls," a protest-exhibit held exactly 40 years ago tonight.” (Exhibitionist blog) The protest was to urge the MFA to appreciate local artists more.  It is interesting that the protest used the bathrooms as an exhibit space for their work.  This could be seen as a comment that the MFA treats local artists like crap.  Literally.  They are only fit to be shown in the bathroom.  Or is can be seen as anti-elitism.  Why must we have a fancy space to display work? Long live Geurilla art! I enjoy their embracing of their display space in the title of the protest that they were commemorating, "Flush the walls."  Flush can mean 'get rid of', or 'put all over', it's all in how we see it.  Soon after this anniversary protest, the MFA re-instated their Maud Morgan prize, which celebrates local artists by giving the winner $10,000 and featuring them in the Linde Family Wing for Contemporary Art.  Wendy Jacobson was this year’s winner.  I find it inspiring that just a month after these creative protests, the museum once again began to acknowledge local artists.  Art can make a difference!  Especially in the world of art.  It is interesting to me that they used art to protest lack of acknowledgement in art.  They used art in conversation with art.  This makes me excited!  They created change through a peaceful, artistic, creative protest.  When I think about it, this trend of using art to dialogue with art and art institutions has been around for a long time.  I think of Mabou Mines’ A Doll’s House.  How is this in conversation with Ibsen’s work?  Is it protesting it in some way?  Or simply adapting it for a modern audience?  Whatever the intention, it does undermine what we think of as traditional or normative theatre.  Every new movement has come out of protesting what came before it by creating a new movement.  I am excited to figure out how to use art to directly create change as these artists have done!

By sdecker | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

We Need to go Deeper

December 15, 2011 at 11:26 am

I stumbled upon this comparison to Inception and theatre that I thought I would share with all of you. The article basically lays out each job of the characters in the movie Inception and correlates it with a job in the theatre. It is actually dead on with its description and summarizes in this final paragraph what the final product of Inception or of a play is: An invented world, created for the purpose of providing the audience with an idea. The world is inhabited by people pretending to be other people, and they help bring the world to life. I love this description and it really makes me want to go back and watch Inception again to delve a little deeper.

Another thing I truly appreciated about this article that I wanted to bring attention to was the author, Bevin Dooley’s, description of the dramaturge. I liked that she investigated the role the dramaturge has with the playwright, they are not just the person who gives people a book of information but instead a very “perceptive” vital person who explores and questions the world the playwright is beginning to make. They are a member of the team not just an assistant for the playwright but a true collaborator in the process.

“Every good Inceptor needs a Point Man, and in Dom’s case, it’s Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). The Point Man collects all the necessary information about the target; it’s his job to make sure that all bases are covered and that no question is left unanswered. This is much like the job of the dramaturge, who in my opinion, deserve far more credit than they are given, because they are incredibly perceptive. A dramaturge helps the playwright answer all the dangling questions about the world of the play, the characters and the action of the plot, among others. They help the playwright understand their play inside and out.

By nmednick | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

On nerds, love, happiness, and keeping your heart open to the sky –

December 15, 2011 at 12:53 am

This post is the culmination of a lot of things. I'm not even sure where to start.

How much do you love the things you love?

I think, as a group, we are pretty passionate about...stuff. I, though I don't know if most of you know me quite well enough to be aware of this, am passionate about everything. I don't have feelings that are not strong. Or maybe I do, but I don't call them feelings. I was talking about this a night or two ago, to my poor best friend, who, bless her, is "allergic to feelings." And I was like, "You know how you feel crazy sometimes, in [romantic] relationships? I feel crazy all the time." Because I just have a lot of feelings. (And, yes, this can be exhausting.)

For the most part, it works out for me. I lead a pretty charmed life, and no one has ever tried to tell me that I love something - or someone - too much, though sometimes I suppose it could be true. I loved The West Wing so much that I quit the School of Theatre (not to be a politician) (this part is confusing). That may have been a mistake. But it's okay! Life is short! Do the things you think you want to do! You have no way of knowing if you're going to change your mind, but waiting and waiting and waiting to find out, that kills you.

I love scripted television, that's one thing. I love it in a scary, only-dogs-can-hear-you, have-to-pause-to-run-around-and-talk-to-myself way. I love that someone wrote something and people realized it and COLLABORATION HAPPENED that led to me feeling the way I do, and I love the fact that it doesn't end after two hours. (I love theatre, too, as you know; but the different way I access the theatre I love is another story.) Anyway - I love television in a way that, combined with my relatively good memory, leads to stuff like creepily** accurate quoting, or at least frowning at my paraphrasing friends.

And - or because - I love writing. The other night, I went to see Mindy Kaling speak/read/sign her book at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge; and I can't even tell you, how INEXPLICABLY EMOTIONAL that was - so I won't. But I will say that we came home and I promptly wrote the first half of a looooong co-written personal blog entry about it, and Joel came over partway through, and he said, "Why would you write more? Why would you write when you don't have to?" Because I do have to. Because it's what I do. Because words words WORDS and all my periods of depression and insecurity and Not Knowing What I'm Doing With My Life have coincided with not having the time to write. Or choosing not to write, for any reason, and then everything implodes.

...I think Bukowski's kind of a tool, and I don't AT ALL agree with all the things he says in his poem so you want to be a writer? but for me there is truth to this:

unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

A couple nights ago, someone asked me what TV character I was most like, and if other people disagreed. And I had no clue, of course, because apparently I'd not recently explored that particular corner of navel-gazing. Shocking. Anyway, I asked my roommate and three of my most immediately reachable friends, and here's the exact response of one of them - someone who adores me but, as Anne thought of Gilbert's mother, is "not overburdened with tact":

"Oh. Hm. I don't think they write shows about people who sit around writing all the time or flipping out over [redacted]."

Yikes. Forgetting for a minute the original question, which he misinterpreted a little, and discounting the fact that, really, I've never wanted to be any television character (why would I give up being the strange, thought-full, growing person I already am?), I promptly had A Lot Of Complicated Feelings. For example... WHAT IS MY LIFE WHAT ARE MY CHOICES?????

But then I thought - I do do that, and it makes me happy. And, if that were actually what I did all the time? That'd be pretty sweet. In a perfect world, I'd parlay it into a career. In our existing imperfect world, I'm at least going to try.

I don't watch this specific television show, but I love this quote that a friend of mine provided, from a review of its latest episode. I think it fits with the spirit of the holiday season. I think it fits with the mission of schools like ours. I think it fits with the conversations we have in this particular class, about how we didn't sign up to be investment bankers, so we're going to scramble when we leave here, but we decided to for a reason - and about, per show or piece or career choice, why we do the things we do. Lastly, I think...I think it fits with where I wrote "creepily" up above and almost changed it but then starred it instead, because I think that word choice is worth examining.

Do you remember serious nerds in high school? I'm not talking about, good at physics, voluntarily took AP chem. I'm talking about, wore a cape to school and taped their ears back to pretend they were an elf. Or, insert your non-Halloween nerd costume of choice. People who cared a lot about things that we were afraid to care that much about (or just didn't, and whether we were lucky or unlucky is a longer conversation). I was not one of those kids, but I had friends who were, and I made fun of them, too. I still do, sometimes; they make fun of themselves. One of them recently wrote a joke about it into a pilot we'll never pitch. That's fine. But think about them for a second, as people and not a punch line, and then, too, the ways we're portrayed sometimes ("theatre kids"; "actors"; what have you). Then, if you've made it this far, consider the following:

"There's nothing wrong with being happy. There's nothing wrong with enjoying something so much that it strips away all that irony and cynicism. And there's nothing wrong with loving anything so much that it feels like it could pull your heart out of your chest and toss it on the floor. We build ourselves up to not do that, and then we build up the armor so thickly that we have trouble finding what's underneath. We use that as an excuse to lash out at people who do feel stuff, who do like things (and I am, of course, mostly saying this about myself). It's hard sometimes to remember that the world isn't a place to glide through, so nothing can touch you. It's a place to be experienced."

— Todd VanDerWerff for The A.V. Club

I guess I might be preaching to the choir. Oh, well; it never hurts to be reminded. Love things - or people - or causes - or places! Have feelings! Celebrate them.

By kmjiang | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

Tis the season, throw out the tights!

December 13, 2011 at 8:01 pm

Ok, so as we've learned, apparently a theatre company needs to produce "A Christmas Carol" once a year if its going to make any money for the rest of its season. But whose to say that "A Christmas Carol" can't be fun, exciting and unusual in its own right? Stepping away from the the family oriented period classic, allow me to introduce "Dickens: The Unparalleled Necromancer" (I know, right!?) presented by the Abrons Arts Center. This version of the classic Christmas Ghost story uses images from 35 different film versions of the story which are integrated into the live theatrical performance. If there are certain stories that are known money makers for theaters where lies the harm in giving them a little spin? As theater artists our obligation lies in re-imagining, re-envisioning and remaking old stories for a modern audience.

"A Christmas Carol" clearly holds a place near and dear in many peoples hearts  every year many people travel to theaters to see performances of it or break out the old film versions why break the mold? Touching "A Christmas Carol" does feel like a bit of a theatrical third rail. Taking a story loved by so many and altering it from its original form is risky; there, acknowledged, moving on. What is more exciting than seeing a story that you know by heart and love to death? What about seeing a passionate new take on a story that you love, a take that is different from anything you ever seen. If we in the theatre have to call upon these certain treasured pieces of theatre to make a little money and if we are in the business of rick taking as much as we say we are then why shouldn't we remake the "A Christmas Carol."  Whereas I could stay home, pop some corn and watch George C. Scott tear it up as Scrouge, "Dickens: The Unparalleled Necromancer," is something I wouldn't miss seeing just for the experience. Perhaps it will be a fantastic flop but if people didn't think out of the box on these sorts of things we'd still be doing Shakespeare in tights. If we're really risk takers then its time we "personed" up and took some risk, especially on the dearly beloved stuff. Discover what people have been missing and then let 'em have it.

By lumiere1 | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

War Sheep

December 13, 2011 at 9:53 am

That is all.

By Ilana Brownstein | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

A Quick Interlude

December 12, 2011 at 5:00 pm

Before I go on continuing to post about Occupy and Theatre, I wanted to post about this 2amt post about musical theatre. I love his thesis on non-"authentic" music in musical theatre, though, at the same time, I can't help but admit I do love some inauthentic shows. I've always wondered how musical theatre went from being the same music you'd hear on the radio, to a very specific genre of its own, really only heard but a certain sort of person. I know there are plenty of students at BU who aren't a fan of musicals, and I always find it disheartening. Often I hear that they're overly commercial or silly, that they don't really go deep, and there are so many musicals that really do.

In a TCG interview with Sondheim:

Your musicals coincide with the rock era, but that's not something you've ever had any affinity for.

Rock didn't come in until I was in my mid-twenties, so I'm a generation out of it, which is why I don't write it and why it has no meaning to me. What means something is the music of one's childhood, what you're brought up on, and my musical tastes are back in the '40s and '50s.

So you didn't share Leonard Bernstein's enthusiasm for pop and rock, even though he was older than you?

Oh, I don't think his enthusiasm was for pop and rock. I think that was an attitude. He was, as Burt Shevelove once said of someone else, "Rip Van Withit." When I hear his attempts at rock in Mass, I find it actively embarrassing, because it doesn't come from his gut. You know, I could imitate rock, I could write a rock score, just the way I wrote Americana for Assassins. I could imitate a Carpenters song, and did. Anybody can imitate. Jule Styne tried to write a rock song in Hallelujah, Baby!, and you could tell it was inauthentic. It has to come from the gut. The rock scores that are written today, good or bad, they come from people for whom that's their music—the music that expresses what they feel.

For the generations after you, who grew up loving musicals and loving rock, trying to put them together still seems to be an issue. I'm just not sure that rock is dramatic.

I couldn't agree with you more. It's very unpopular to say, but I don't think that rock lends itself to theatre, to storytelling. It lends itself to concerts, and that's what a lot of musicals are today: concerts. The range of expressivity is very limited, so you're limited to certain kinds of emotions and songs.

And certain kinds of stories: Tommy, which is about pop culture iconography, somehow works.

Sure, and Next to Normal is an attempt to tell what would have been told in a different way a generation or two generations earlier, and to tell it with rock. It's a question of whether for some people it has that expressive range. Generally, I think rock is limited. First of all, how about comedy songs? Give me a rock comedy song.

Not many, but David Yazbek can be pretty funny.

Is it rock, though? I think it's closer to pop. And pop can do it; rock can't. I shouldn't say "can't," it's a generalization. But it's rare, 'cause it's hard.

And I think what he says here is fair and legitimate. Plus it's Sondheim, so I'm not gunna question that bro.

Anyways, this is just a little love letter of mine to musical theatre, and an excitement over what's to come next to help evolve the genre.

A final quote:

"A musical is what happens when text collides with motion collides with song collides with spectacle. And spectacle can be the human heart; it doesn’t necessarily have to be a helicopter crashing. You can go see ballet in its purity; you can go to a recital to hear music by itself. But what the American musical does so thrillingly is bastardize these forms into something that is exhilarating and compelling and deeply moving."

By Danny Park | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (1)

Theatre of the Occupy 1: Why The Occupy Movement Means Theatre is Still Relevant

December 11, 2011 at 5:26 pm

Over the past few weeks I've gained a growing interest on understanding the Occupy movement and my point of view on it has pretty radically changed. As I've gone through my progression in understanding how the movement is structured and acted out, I've constantly had theatre on my mind as I look into it. Over my next few posts I'm going to attempt to discuss different specific elements of the movement and how they interact with theatre and my own aesthetic.

In my journey of understanding the Occupy movement, I started out uninformed and unimpressed. I didn't know what the movement was about and the little information I had was that it was a simple general outcry with no real force or thought behind it. As I moved past this initial starting point, I learned about the governing system and how the Occupy movement is many individual voices clumped through a common discontent. One of the biggest criticisms of the movement though, similar to my original understanding, is that the movement provides no solution to the problems it brings focus to. Yet the truth of the matter is that underneath the general outcry are plenty of individual solutions to the problems. Occupy is the scream of discontent. The shout that, "We're made as hell and we're not going to take it anymore."

Even preceding my interest in the Occupy movement, my firm belief in the theatre as a tool of social change was wavering. I'd only ever witnessed one show that activated me in terms of my society and self-actions and it seemed that there was very little theatre doing that these days. As a country birthed out of political revolt that gave harbor to artists like Bertolt Brecht, we're sure slacking on our duties to bring together the masses, to tell them a story, and to have them go, "Wait a minute, something's wrong here." I knew that this was the art I wanted to make, I didn't know if it was still possible.

And here is where the Occupy Movement has revitalized me. Occupy has proven to me that as human beings we still have the ability to come together as a group and let out a cathartic, or maybe it's more anti-cathartic, "No!" That generations, both young and old, still have enough movement and simple care in them to let it be known when they see something wrong with their world. I don't want to dive now into what it means that this may well still be a self-wellfare driven outcry, but at least even that is still possible.

As a theatre artist I want to harness this communal power to say, "No!" and let it infect every inch of my work. I want to bring the illusioned-comfortable and make wipe away the fantasy of the world they live in.

By Danny Park | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

We’ve Come Full Circle

December 9, 2011 at 1:09 pm

Well, good thing we just spent so much time on "Outrageous Fortune," for American Theatre Magazine just recently published this article on the playwright's voice in a theatre. The article interviews both Emily Mann and Chay Yew, two playwright/directors who happen to also act as artistic heads to their own respective theatres. There are some wonderful points that these two artists bring up that support our entire discussion so wonderfully. I won't recap the entire article, obviously, but my favorite point brought up is that artists SHOULD be running theatres. They just make it so clear why that is the smartest option in this article, because as an artist, one knows what other artists need. As long as a theatre artist still has that administrative gene (which Mann actually says very few playwrights really have -- which is ALSO very interesting), then a theatre will be getting exactly the artistic attention it deserves. Yet so many times, when a theatre is run by someone who doesn't know what the art form needs, it becomes a great machine. Therefore, the artists that care about advancement run away to somewhere that will take them -- Mann mentions Hollywood.

Anywho -- it's a great, quick read that I think is a perfect supplementary resource to our time spent with "Outrageous Fortune."

By bsands91 | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

The Poetic Justice Project, empowering the disempowered through poetry and theatre.

December 8, 2011 at 10:59 pm

I have been trying to figure out why I am so drawn to the idea of prison theatre. This is one of those instances where my heart and body know something before my mind does. I have a physical reaction when I think about the importance of doing theatre in prisons. While doing some research, I came across the Poetic Justice Project, which works with previously incarcerated people to help them find their voices and creativity, and to combat California’s extremely high recidivism rate. This first poem (which I found on their website) helped me to understand why I am so excited by prison theatre.

Prison Poetry Reading
Dave Ochs

I was asked to read poetry
At a prison
Which I've done
Several times before
Oddly or maybe
Not so oddly enough
A prison poetry reading
Is usually much better
Than the average
Cafe poetry reading
Not only are the inmates
Superior poets
They're a responsive audience
In that they listen more intently
Resulting in charged atmosphere
Where weight is given
To every word
As opposed to the
Polite lip service
At the coffee klatch gatherings
Maybe you have to feel
A sense of desperation
For poetry to mean more
Than mere world play
But a vehicle
To carry you
To a better place

Originally from Brooklyn, Dave Ochs has spent the majority of his adult life in Santa Maria. He's published more than 100 poems since 1996 and is a frequent reader on California's Central Coast. He has taught poetry in prison and has worked with Poetic Justice Project, teaching workshops for incarcerated and formerly incarcerated people.

Prison is a place where art is needed. Truly, directly, desperately needed. It’s a place where art can liberate, metaphorically and literally, which becomes vital when one is imprisoned metaphorically and literally. I believe that art is needed in the world in general, but in such a small, at risk community as a prison, I believe that art has the power to create deep, lasting, life-changing inspiration. It can be a lifeline. An awakening. For the prisoners and the outside world. This feels exciting and important to me, and like I could learn and give a hell of a lot by participating in it.  I was astounded by the poems that I came across on the Poetic Justice Website. They are beautiful and heartbreaking and joyous and just plain moving, good poetry. There are more poems on the website besides what I have posted below, I strongly encourage you to go read them!!

I strongly believe that it is important to empower the voices that are not empowered by society. I was deeply inspired by a quote that I came across while researching Luis Alfaro, author of Oedipus El Rey (an adaptation of Sophocles’ Oedipus set in an L.A. prison and Chicano Barrio). The play addresses the problem of recidivism as does the Poetic Justice Project. Alfaro spent time working with young prisoners. Describing this experience, he says:

“People who have made really big mistakes in their lives are very complicated people. They represent the complexity we are looking for in our work. Incarcerated children are missing elements that many of us take for granted—a notion of family, security, love, or even intelligence about the world. The first gig I had in a youth prison was a poetry workshop with teen felons, 12-17 years old. Five minutes into it I realized that none of them could read and few could write—which didn’t seem to matter because I couldn’t use pencils or pens anyway. No one told me this beforehand. Out of sheer terror and desperation, we stood in a circle, created a rhythm with our hands and bodies, and each student had to tell their life story through rap. I set some parameters about language and violence, and they were able to adapt. I could not ask them to write down their lives and crimes, but there was no law saying that they could not say out loud their histories. And they did, and the stories were extraordinary and sad and full of regret and fear and lack of hope. And that is when I realized that everyone is a playwright. Some of us just have training.”
-From an interview with Alfaro by John M. Baker, Production Dramaturg and Literary Manager of Wooly Mammoth Theatre.

Below are the poems from the Poetic Justice Website.

Ricky Lee
Darren Glenn Attebery
Out doing the same old thing,
My childhood friend Ricky Lee Eusted.

Playing the clown late at night,

Being 43 does not mean much to Ricky.

It seems as if all the beauty has left his heart.

I remember when he and I were 18
Not caring about anything.

Twenty four years behind
What is left of my smile
Cured me of that.

But my old friend Ricky Lee
Still is lost.

The Tehama County jail
Holds him again.

And I found it sad
To read his name in the paper.

The drugs do not cure
The hidden rage inside.

They only increase the
Flame.

Until the night watchman
Of your mind tears
The soul blind.

And that is why
Ricky Lee
Is not Free.

Dumb Love

Has anyone touched when the crescent moon bloomed?

Faded between life and passionate tragedy

Wilted before a doorway open to only you

Rode the crest of colors when the sun goes down

Stood before a reality you could not resist

Has love ever struck you dumb?

The Shade of the Sun
does not belong
where the nights miss love

Robbing hearts
spilling invisible tears
all over the sheets in the dark

And the days
only grow stark weeds
that breed such bitterness

It's where time bends men over
with only a taste
of life's dust in their veins

The granite hearts
shatter with ease
upon this feather filled anvil

As shackled faces
continue to swim
in an empty well

I was born Darren Glenn Attebery in 1964 and raised in the San Fernando Valley. My father died when I was six. His death left me without a guide in life and I was locked up at 12. Except for a few trial periods outside I was incarcerated until I was 18. At 18, I had changed from a timid fearful boy into a man who thrived on anger and a sense of injustice in his heart. I committed violence like I was justified, committing armed robbery and assaults. I ate up my 20s, 30s like they were nothing, with 19 years in state prison. My anger consumed me until on my last term, two of my father's sisters found me in New Folsom. They began to visit and send me books. My idea of being a completely worthless person began to change. I began to learn about myself and my father's family. While in prison, I had a son from a family visit. It seemed like God or a divine intervention and the mellowing of my angry spirit all came together as one. The books my aunt sent exploded upon my soul. My son gave me a dream. And two strikes taught me that freedom was no longer a game. Poetry has invaded my heart and mind. And not the weak idea of modern poetry. But like the Skalds and Bards of old, I burn with passion and desire. This world, this life is beautiful. It should be shouted from the hills and streets. --Darren Deichen

Beauty
I hold on to the playground laughter
and try to believe these tiny seeds
won't be choked by briars and thorns before
they have a chance to blossom. A rain-marred
sunny day muddies the path where
thunder sounds like an SKS. A wake quiets
the rising tide until the procession passes by.
Homies dressed in their best, creased khakis
and button-down Pendletons, stand by somberly
as a mother buries her eldest while crying
over the loss of her other two: 16-year-old
twins facing life for the payback. My trigger finger
itches as I hug her, too ashamed for once
to look in her eyes. She was like a mother
to me too; her welfare home welcoming me
whenever I had to flee the heavy hand
of momma's new boyfriend of the week. By fifteen,
I was banged out and pistol happy,
and hands not noticably lighter in the Wilson house.
Now I'm 25, fresh out after walking nine,
and trying to acclimate myself to a society
that never wanted me. Does Barack have an answer for this?
My church-going momma who married a
God-fearing man six years ago, seems to think
so. I see hope in her beautific eyes
as preaches the Word to me through sublime actions,
without having to utter a sound. And somewhow,
I feel a slight stirring in me, too, as I
hold on to the playground laughter and try to believe
these tiny seeds won't be choked by briars and thornsJon-and-Willie-as-Lucky-and-joker-72.jpghands_in_chains.jpg
before they have a chance to blossom.

Shaka Washington III received an Honorable Mention in the 2009 PEN American Poetry Writing Contest for "Pieces of a Dream." He also won Honorable Mention in PEN's 2007 contest. His work has appeared in DanaLiterary.org, Timbooktu.com, Struggle and PoeticsNoire.

By sdecker | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (2)

What are some of your favorite plays?

December 8, 2011 at 10:18 pm

I seem to have a bit of a thing for posting on the 29th of each month, and then the 8th of the next. How odd, as the days of the weeks are different. Anyway...

I was doing this thing with friends and acquaintances that involved asking and answering more or less random questions. It's an interesting way to get to know each other, and it devolves into being extremely conversational, which is nice, because, you know, I like to talk to people!

Someone asked me, "What are some of your favorite plays?"

And I went, "Holy shit, I have no idea!"

Some of you can answer this question, I don't doubt. Certainly I might be able to name some playwrights I admire, and some favorite writers, overall. I've thought about my favorite musicals at great length - Parade (pre-Donmar), Ragtime, Les Mis, The Last 5 Years. With the exception of the last one, which I just find beautiful and structurally fascinating, these are all shows that I have strong emotional associations with specific productions or processes of. Shows where, working on them propelled me forward in life. So that's that; favorite musicals, because musicals were so important pre-college, are where sentiment and memory intersect with actual liking. And my purview is limited.

What is "actual liking" about? Because the only play I could really think of, that had moved me and that I thought was fascinatingly written, and that I have worked on (if somewhat peripherally) was A Few Good Men, and then I was like, God, I don't even know besides that; diventare? Bleugh. I suppose I have a deep and abiding fondness for Much Ado About Nothing, but I hardly think that should count. And then there are all sorts of plays I really enjoy, like Noises Off! or Rumors or Moon Over Buffalo, but that's all...shenanigans. I liked them because they were fun to watch and fun to learn and fun to work on. They make good high-school stories. Maybe The Shadow Box? But I'm not sure I even remember all of it; maybe I only remember the lines I helped my friend Matt learn (and memorized myself in the process, of course).

I guess I'm looking for where art and entertainment intersect - not for everyone, I don't think; probably just for me - where my interests as a writer and an artist meet my interests as a citizen of the world. Except for L5Y, which is just - I love love! all the musicals I picked are meaningful to me on Big Issues thematic levels... Anti-Semitism, the plight of the outsider, race, the immigrant's journey, the weight of history, revolution, class struggle...

I don't know, guys! I just don't know. Except for what we read in class, which I always find fascinating for historical, thematic, or writing-y reasons but would rarely say I overwhelmingly like, the only plays I come in contact with are plays I work on. And those are all tied up in how I feel about you.

Thoughts? What are your favorite plays? What are your criteria - do you love them because they have sentimental value, after working on or performing in them? Do you love them because they speak to your heart artistically - and does that mean, Issues? or does that mean, beautiful words? or both? Do you think it has to do with what you think of yourself as first - actor, writer, theatre artist? What are shows you like but don't think you'd call your "favorites"? Why do we fixate on picking favorites, in general? (I've always hated that.)

By kmjiang | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

The Theology of Theatre

December 8, 2011 at 6:08 pm

AsItIsInHeavenPosterI was raised in a Christian home (Episcopalian, to be exact) and since I can remember, the crux of my faith and relationship to God has been creative. I explore my personal theology of the gospel and faith in the divine through creative mediums, most notably, theatre. I do not mean to say that every work I enter into is theocentric-- for those of you who know me it might seem the case, given the undertone's of my director's project work and my play for Lydia's class. I have found that  many of the things that might be considered religiously taboo that I encounter in the theatre (no surprises there) but that also many things I discus in religious and theological/philosophical settings may seem, inversely, taboo in theatrical settings.

I want to be able to have my voice in this area heard without feeling like I'm stepping on anyone's toes, but at the same time feel as if there is a place for my voice on this matter. So, for this reason and others, this years I signed up for a class called Introduction to Preaching. I hoped that the class would inform both my acting and playwriting, as well it did. In this class we were required to write sermons and discuss theological literature. During this I learned that the vocabulary  and tools of those who intend to proclaim the word of God for a living is very, VERY similar to the vocabulary and tools we share at CFA.

So what is the point? That I am learning to articulate my thoughts on this matter concisely, and that I now feel better prepared to defend it in a theatrical setting (without, of course, offending others). I don't think spiritual/theological voices are missing from modern theatre, but I do (personally) find them less celebrated, or else the spiritual aspects of current work is not in popular focus. These voice ARE present, playwrights such as Arlene Hutton, Sarah Ruhl and many of the authors of the adaptations we have been discussing in class exhibit spiritual/theological traits in their works (I am certainly not saying, again, that this is ALL they focus on, simply that it is there).

As part of this I would like to share with you excepts from two documents. First is a list I cam across online that stipulates plays that are "must-reads" for any theologian (We've read most, if not all of them!) The second is something of my own. In my Preaching class I was asked to compose a personal theology of the gospel in under two pages (AHHH!) I found this to be very much like composing a theatrical manifesto, and that my personal theology is very deeply rooted in creativity. In that vein, I have elected to share a small portion of it with you.

20 Essential Plays for Theologians

Georgia's Personal Theology of the gospel (Excerpt):

*Please note, this is me today. Any personal theology is subject to change!

...I believe that we fulfill our duty and relationship to God through the work we are called to do for him, and this is what the Holy Spirit is. When we exhibit the grace, justice love and compassion of God, we are embodying the Holy Spirit. Here, I can only speak from personal experience. In my life I have found that I am talented in the area of theatre. Thus, as a believer I make it my mission to serve God through this medium. The work that I do as a theatre artist aims to be in the service of God...to personally wrestle with and grow in my faith through the creative work that I do.

I am very interested in the presence of this theology/spirituality in theatre, and my hope is that it will continue to become more prevalent in theatrical conversation

By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)

“The House of Yes” From Stage to Screen: Lost in translation?

December 8, 2011 at 11:55 am

The House of Yes by Wendy Macleod is arguably my favorite play. I first read the script  when I was 16 years old, and I have loved it (and carried it on me) ever since. At that time I became aware of the 1997 film adaptation directed by Mark Waters, but never watched it until this week.

Before I say anything further about the film, I should mention that this is not an easy play. I'm not going to spoil it for you, because I want you to read it, but I will say that it involves the deepest and most complex facets of family dysfunction, including murder, incest, and psychological illness. The dialogue of the play is extremely fast paced. The original staging suggestions from the playwright are conceptual rather than realistic and the characters "appear" and "disappear" suddenly, giving the impression that someone is always watching, present just out of sight.

When I first heard of the film adaptation, I felt that the intricacies in The House of Yes were simply too many to produce a film worthy of viewing (yes, that is partially why I avoided watching it). However, after talking about the intricacies of translation in Dramaturgy, I decided to dive into this translation specifically because of the weight it carried in my life.

The first issue to be addressed in this translation is Casting, what would be considered character interpretation or adaptation in a textual work. The women who function as the poles of the original story are Jackie- O and Lesly, linked by Marty, Jackie’s brother and Lesly’s fiancée. In the original work, Jackie is clinically insane and Lesly is a standoffish witness to the familial psychosis that has developed around caring for Jackie.

Parker Posey plays Jackie in the film adaptation, and I must say eloquently ferries this character from stage to screen. She is able to engage with and build on the original text, incorporating elements of the style of film acting without losing the essence of McLeod’s character. In McLeod’s play, we are truly empathetic with the character. I would venture to say a small bit of this was lost in translation, but not so much that is was unclear who was our guide on this journey (Jackie). In an unfortunate and strange casting choice, Tori Spelling plays Lesly, Marty’s fiancé (and by proxy Jackie’s mortal enemy). Spelling fails to capture the essence of McLeod’s original character, whose reaction to the tumult of the family she visits is not altogether polite or “lamb-like” (the take that Spelling takes or had been directed to take). I feel it is important to convey the acerbic streak in this character because as twisted as it is, we become more sympathetic to Jackie’s plight when it is there. For example: In the play, Lesly exacts revenge on Marty by sleeping with his brother-- but in the film, Spelling seems more coerced and confused rather than a woman making a hideous choice.

In language this film remained (for the most part) painstakingly faithful to the original script. As the film began, I was delighted that Waters had made this decision, but as it continued, I began to realize something I had “known” but never really “considered.” Basically, the only text that translated seamlessly to the screen was that of Jackie-O. I am not sure why this might be, perhaps because in her insanity her connection to others is rooted in the past and she is on “another level.” For an insane person, that seems to work in the film. For all the others, there is something slightly off. McLeod’s original text contains no monologues but is filled with witty, fast paced dialogue. This would seem the perfect script to adapt to film, but it translates awkwardly. The characters in conversation with one-another in a concrete setting (such as in the film) and speaking in this fast paced, often deranged and non-linear way is a visible obstacle to the film’s success.

Similarly, in our westernized hunger for resolution of conflict, back-story and “epilogue” the film falls flat because Waters attempted to feed this hunger. Rather than the original ending of the play, there is a strange shot of Lesly, followed by his attempt to “bring the script full circle” by showing a video clip of Jackie-O at a young age. Had Waters not given in to this desire, the movie might have held more weight.

All in all, I am not wildly disappointed or irked as I thought I might be. Examining this “translation” illuminated for me the difficulty of transposing from one artistic medium to another. In the end, I find that my loyalty still lies with the original text, which is a testament to why I chose the medium of theatre.

By geawill | Posted in Uncategorized | Comments (0)