10 things to do before I die

It has been quite sometime since I last blogged.

A quick update: I am currently working as the Production Assistant on a new play called 10 things to do before I die at Second Stage Theatre UPTOWN.

A quick anecdote: Yesterday was Opening Night and at half hour when I typically change into my blacks, I dropped my zip up black sweatshirt in the toilet!!! Luckily, I had another black shirt to wear but the point is...be prepared. Always have another set of blacks on you at all times.

Hopefully there will be more to come. But for now, short and sweet until I get back into the swing of things.

Big Town, What's Before Me?

For those of you who did not know, I will be extending my internship at the Westport Country Playhouse through December.



I am now the Production Assistant for Of Mice and Men. Today was our first prep. day in The City (NYC). This morning I woke up at 6:30am to get on a 7:52am train into NY. When I arrived at the platform--- after gracefully falling up the stairs--- I was completely out of place. All of the Westport "reverse commuters" were there dressed in their perfectly pressed suits, coffee in one hand, news paper in the other. And then there's me...jeans, t-shirt, a pile of stuff (including a printer) with me.



I bought my On Peak train ticket and boarded an already very crowded train car. I sat next to a young professional who checked his blackberry about every 5 seconds...Man, its 7:52am who is calling you?! Anyway, to my right another man was reviewing some type of business report and ahead of me all I could see was a sea of shiny bald heads and all I heard was the constant rustle of newspapers being read.



My next thought was: "I AM NEVER ALLOWED TO COMPLAIN ABOUT MY JOB EVER AGAIN!" I will never be like them. I will never wear a power suit or be so completely stuck in the monotony of routine or obsessed about today's Wall Street Journal. My job is soooo much cooler. And those people need people like us, "theatre people." We have the power to break their routine, take them away, jolt them awake, make them think about something other than their to-do lists.



I got off the train and walked through Grand Central Station's Main Concourse and out on to the bustling streets of New York City. All I can think is: "I am rehearsing a show in New York City, in a rehearsal studio owned by Roundabout Theatre Company, with Broadway Stage Managers, Mark Lamos and a Tony-Award winning set designer (who by the way is one of the nicest people I've ever met.)

My job is so cool.

Words, Words, Words

I am the Rail Operator for Tryst, as the Rail Operator, it is my job to make the curtains and chandelier fly. During the show I sit off stage right and am lucky to have a perfect view of both the stage and the first row of the audience.

This week is the last week of the shows run. Typically, when running a show for multiple weeks Crew members, myself included, will begin to memorize the actor's lines and start speaking (or mouthing) the words along with them... but for some these words won't stick. I literally never know what these two wonderful actors are going to say next, or more importantly, how they are going to say it. People always say they love live theatre because "it is different every night." However, actors often do fall into specific habits or patterns of speech but with regard to Tryst, the show is noticeably different each and every performance. A change in speech pattern, a new tempo, an added breath, a subtly stressed syllable all add to the depth of the story and its characters.

These tiny, daily differences combined are the reasons why I haven't completely formulated an opinion on either character. One day George Love is lying, the next he's telling the truth, they love each other, they don't love each other...most days, to loosely quote the show, I don't know whose game it is! I suppose the reason I've fallen in love with Tryst is because it truly is alive! The performance becomes a great being that captures the audience and holds it in its gigantic hands until the final curtain.

It is not until this show that I've realized how alive and vital the audience is and must be for "good theatre" to happen! My favorite audience member so far has been the quintessential Westportian man. He sat front and center (right in my line of sight) in his salmon polo and khaki shorts, his bald head reflecting the light from the stage. I watched this man transform from overworkedoverstressedfinancier to a young boy completely enraptured and taken in by the words, by the story being told on stage. There was no need for stage lights anymore because his smile lit up the room.

I wish he could see how he looked: years younger, having fun, letting his imagination run wild and allowing himself to play with the actors on stage. The way this man looked...whatever that look was...THAT is what theatre should be, and to Mr. Salmon Polo that is what theatre IS.

Showcase! A Tour des Interns.

Tonight was Intern Showcase. For the past month the 2008 Intern Class has been working endlessly on putting this night together. At first, I was skeptical. I doubted my own abilities and the abilities of my fellow interns. Just one week ago we had a preview performance for each other...this show was NEVER going to come together. But as always...

It did!!! I don't know why we never allow ourselves to enjoy, to relish in "the process." Why is the goal always "the product?"

I have learned that my fellow interns and I are an obscenely multi-talented group of people. We can sing, we can write, we can dance, we can play piano and guitar, we can design and stage manage... Our show displayed not only our talent but our passion. I believe we were so successful because we were able to capture--- without knowing it--- precisely what it feels like to be living, in our bodies and our minds at this very moment.

We are a group with a lot to say. We have so so so many IDEAS, DREAMS, HOPES, GOALS but I suppose what our performance displayed is that we are at that stage in our lives where we have the necessary tools and skills to fulfill our goals and bring our dreams to fruition but something gets in the way. A question that we are afraid to answer or that we are afraid to ask. But most the time the only thing getting in the way of our dreams are ourselves.

As Holly said to me tonight: "Conquer the world!" and as theatre people, together, we will.

Fat Pig

The necessity of suffering in art.

There is a chapter in Peter Brook's, The Empty Space--- and I'm sorry I can not reference it more directly right now---where he discusses the stigma surrounding artists asking for more financial compensation for their work. How theatre professionals don't feel as if they are "worthy" of or entitled to making money because it is necessary to fill the stereotype of "starving artist."

Wikipedia describes a "starving artist" as one who: sacrifices material well-being in order to focus on their artwork. They typically live on minimum expenses, either for a lack of business or because all their disposable income goes towards art projects. Some starving artists desire mainstream success but have difficulty due to the high barriers in art such as visual arts, the film industry, and THEATRE.

These artists frequently take temporary positions (such as waitering jobs) while they focus their attention on breaking through in their preferred field. Others may find enough satisfaction in living as artists to choose voluntary poverty regardless of prospects of future financial reward or broad recognition.

It is widely known that the theatre is not an extremely lucrative industy and we all have chosen this path with the knowledge that we will not be millionaires, we will not have as easy as a life as those who earn more money. We won't have normal hours, it may be years (if ever) we decide to "settle down," we will have to make sacrafices that people with desk jobs will not. But we make these choices to feed our hunger to create. But if theatre fills our emotional & psychological stomachs why is it so difficult to simultaneously feed our physical ones?

Is it necessary for the artist to suffer? I've talked to many of my friends and know from first hand experience, that we are most inspired to write or act or sing or dance or direct when we are upset or "starved." Theatre becomes a kind of outlet and great work usually comes from great misery.

Many of my theatre friends have experienced tragedy at a very young age: eating disorders, rehab, suicides of friends and family members, arrest, financial disparitiy, etc... and I, thankfully (?) have not. I get along with my family and they support me, I grew up comfortably, I have experienced death, but natural death. Because I've had less tragic experiences does that make me less of an artist? Because I've never tasted the aftershock of, for example, being arrested. Does that give me one less color to paint with?

To Be Continued...

Please find below incidents of actual starvation as "art:"


"The Hunger Artist" by Franz Kafka:
http://records.viu.ca/~Johnstoi/kafka/hungerartist.htm

Guillermo Vargas Habacuc- starves a dog to death, claims as "art:"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guillermo_Vargas

(I know this is just a wikipedia link, but there are many other resources available, this will just get you started.)

I'd LOVE to hear your opinions!

How I Learned To Theorize

The following is an essay I was assigned to write for my Theories of Theatre class in the Fall of 2007. Recently, I've been having discussions about what theatre "should" be. For now, here is...

“How I Feel About Stuff”

At the beginning of the semester I was skeptical. What does theory, an intellectual and passive means of viewing theatre have anything at all to do with the experience itself? I’m not a theatre intellectual, but rather a theatre practitioner. I did not want to sit back and passively learn about theatre theory when I could be creating real live tangible theatre…so I did.

Hungrily, the actor eats from an unlabelled tin can as the smell of tuna fish permeates the performance space; the audience member beside me cringes, another smiles. It was not until this moment, standing watching Beirut, that I realized that I was a theorist. Throughout Beirut’s rehearsal process, I learned that I am a semiotic-phenomenological-reader-response-reception theorist. Although this semester has been one of immense personal growth, I felt as if I needed to return to the bias statement that I wrote in August to somewhat demystify my newfound theoretical stance.

I am a 21 year old, white, bi-curious heterosexual female. I grew up in North Caldwell of Essex County, New Jersey. My county is among the wealthiest in the state. I grew up with a mother, father, a younger brother and a dog. My mom has never worked a day in her life since I’ve known her and my dad is a C.P.A and owns a private firm with his older brother. My brother Michael is five years younger than I and at times I feel as if we are from two different planets.

My house sits on a cul-de-sac in the Fox Hollow neighborhood, not gated mind you, but the neighborhood still has a name. It is beige, with a two car garage and a backyard that was once home to a swing set. You can still see the imprints in the grass from where the wooden structure once stood. I got the swing set for my fifth birthday. That was the same year my brother was born. Before he was born my parents took me to Disney World.

Since I am bi-curious does this mean I should prescribe to Queer Theory? Fortier describes queers as “not just homosexuals, but bisexuals, transsexuals, cross dressers, hermaphrodites, and everybody else who doesn’t feel particularly straight for some reason” (122). I don’t disagree with the ideas presented by queer theorists, that sexuality and gender may very well be constructed. In fact, I would appreciate seeing a performance where gender roles were reversed or completely disregarded. However, the reason that this theory does not speak to me is because--- and I am a bit ashamed to admit this--- I am a patriarchal reader.

As a woman I believe that women should not be objectified or treated as ‘less than’ but when reading a play I read it with stereotypical gender roles in mind. My dad is the sole bread winner for my family while my mom stays at home. This is how I grew up and this is still how my family operates. Naturally, I will be inclined to read and interpret plays in this fashion. My frequent trips to Disney World probably have not helped my patriarchal view of theatre. Mr. Walt Disney himself is the primary reason why I truly do believe that “someday, my Jewish prince will come.”

I was raised a conservative Jew. I am Jewish. At one point in time I rejected my religion; though I may not agree that Noah built a raft or Moses parted the Red Sea I believe that these stories exist to teach a moral lesson. Story telling is a tradition within my religious and family life. My grandmother always told and re-told me her stories and at services the Rabbi would always deliver a sermon in the form of a story. While, my parents always “forced” my religion upon me but not in a necessarily religious way, it was more about pride. We are Jewish, we are a minority.

Ever since I came to Ithaca I have learned why I must take pride in and defend my religion, it is my link to my past and a way to preserve my future. This doesn’t change the fact that I suffered through endless hours of Hebrew School, being award stale pretzels for answering a question correctly, singing ridiculous parodies of Jewish songs to the tune of “Under the Sea.” My Bat Mitzvah was the product of my Hebrew School training and was most certainly a theatrical event. I stood up, all alone on a “stage” and performed a series of prayers for 100 people to listen to and participate in. They stood when I stood, they sat when I sat, they took three steps forward and three steps back just like me. My belief system upholds many theatrical elements. Naturally, theatre has become my second religion.

To Artaud theatre is ritual. Artaud’s beliefs are somewhat rooted in phenomenology but he is especially invested in “the truth of the lived experience and the place of living theatre in human spirituality and ritual” (Fortier 54). Artaud longs for a sacred theatre one that is directly connected with life and a person’s communication with the world around them. Historically, theatre was associated with religion. At the yearly festival of Dionysus, the Greeks would drink and perform tragedies to please and appease the Gods. Theatre must establish a connectedness between actors, between actor and audience and between the self and the spirit.
High school was a far cry from a spiritual experience. If you weren’t wearing the latest designer fashions it was obvious. The girls were cliquey and the boys were assholes. I had a possessive boyfriend for two years and it took me about that long to realize my self worth which I am still learning to acknowledge.

One of the theories I most closely associate myself with is Semiotics. I firmly uphold that everything displayed onstage is a choice. Therefore, everything on stage has meaning. Semiotics “is the study of signs--- those objects by which humans communicate meaning: words, images, behaviour…in which a meaning or idea is relayed by a corresponding manifestation we can perceive” (Fortier 19). Perception is a funny concept in that based on life experiences people will not and do not perceive certain signs in identical ways. That does not stop Fortier from asking: “Do light, sound and movement always have meaning?” (20). Yes, they do.

Whether a high school girl is over compensating for her insecurities with brand names or a director is attempting to convey a certain message by having a character drink a certain brand of beer, there is always meaning. Chanel means you are classy, Kate Spade means you just want to fit in, Bebe is a bit trashy so everyone knows what kind of girl you are. Unlabeled tuna cans take the focus away from brand names and turn the audience’s focus to the action. The audience will also perceive a character based on what he or she is wearing. For example, a dirtied burlap sack versus silk golden-yellow ball gown.

In 1995 I saw my first Broadway show, Beauty and the Beast; it was magical. I sat in the orchestra with my mom and my aunt and at intermission bought the souvenir T-shirt. Since then, I have seen countless Broadway shows. I am privileged and I know this. I have been afforded the opportunity to take low-paying theatre internships every summer because my parents will and do support me. I know that I will have an easy time finding a job in theatre because of who I know.

Because I grew up in a financially secure home, I was able take multiple dance classes each year and attend theatre arts summer camps. Also, I was fortunate enough to participate in dance team, marching band and Masquers (my High School’s drama club). Although my parents didn’t have much first hand experience in the performing arts they fostered my passions and allowed me to pursue my dreams. I know that part of the reason is because my father was not allowed to pursue what he wanted to pursue (auto-mechanics and auto-engineering) when he was young. I am lucky to have been raised in a household such as this. My parents’ friends who are of similar socio-economic backgrounds sit on boards of major regional theatres up and down the east coast; again, I am fortunate to have these connections. This is not to say that I have not worked and won’t continue to work hard to achieve my goals, but as they say, “it’s not what you know, but who you know.” To apply materialist theory to a piece of theatre would not be my “thing;” however, I do realize how materialism has contributed to my current place in the theatre world.

My mother grew up dirt poor. She worked her ass off through her twenties to maintain her dead father’s deli. She did not attend college until I was nine years old. My dad’s dad, however, was a radiologist but my dad worked for every dollar he spent. Not because he had to, but he wanted to. He always had a job and earned everything owned. But he knew pain too; his oldest brother passed away at a young age and within the same year was followed by his father. My dad has diabetes; he had a heart attack and triple by-pass open heart surgery. He values his life, not his money. I am thankful he taught me to do the same. I have inherited my parents’ work ethic and my dad’s sense of adventure. Because I was raised with such strong morals and by two completely level-headed parents I view myself as a walking contradiction.

In high school I did theatre because it had nothing to do with the general population of West Essex High School. In this eclectic community of misfits we were able to create and this is where the change in me occurred. I believe I could have taken any one of two roads: first, the same route as my fellow West Essex students into the world of sororities and normal careers or second, the path that has led me here…to writing about “how I feel about stuff.” Theatre allows me to disappear into a fantasy world that does not involve Kate Spade, Tiffany or Mavi. This was real, theatre was raw and theatre was what life should be.

Phenomenology is concerned with truth (Fortier 43). A constant theme that runs as a through line, connecting one moment of my life to the next, is my constant search for truth. Even as a young girl, I was aware that there was something more to life than my safe, suburban, socialite school. Phenomenology is the theory that brings me closer to truth. This theory is not concerned with the world as it exists in itself but with how the world appears to the humans who encounter it (Fortier 38). I always knew that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the primped and overly processed people from my home town, that world as it appeared to me is not one that I wanted to be a part of.

Phenomenological theatre appeals to the spectator’s senses as something to be seen and heard, and, less often, as something to be touched, tasted and smelled. The sensory effects of theatre are central to phenomenological concerns (Fortier 38-9). When directing Beirut, I needed the audience to smell the tuna fish, feel stifled yet solitary in the space and have visceral reactions to the character’s actions. Phenomenology (like semiotics) is about perception. Last year, when I directed The Rock and the Bird, I remember saying “I don’t care if people like it or dislike it, as long as they walk away with an opinion or have something to react to afterwards…that is my largest concern.”

Theatre should be primal. It should dig beneath the Essex County façade and expose the truth. The truth is that people’s lives are not perfect and they use money to cover up all of their problems. Theatre should be a release. I am lucky because I’ve had an opportunity to see many shows on-Broadway, off-Broadway and in different countries. However, I am aware that the only reason this was possible is because my family could afford it. Instead, I propose that theatre should be universal.

When I go and see a show with my family it’s basically as if my entire town was transplanted into the theatre, this I disagree with. Theatre should push limits and break expectations. No one from my town becomes a theatre professional, they all become financial advisors or lawyers or doctors...predictable. I have broken the mold and theatre should do the same.

Reader-response and reception theory are concerned with how people other than the author or creator contribute to the import of a work of art (Fortier 132). Since reader-response is basically a combination of many theories I believe it encapsulates my entire theoretical perspective. The reason I chose to become a theatre professional was to affect people and to use theatre to unearth the truth that is The Human Experience. As Pierce asserts, reader-response theory is “the act of interpretation and unlimited semiosis among their interpreters” (Fortier 133). Audiences have power. They have the power to see on stage what they are afraid to see in themselves. Signs can be interpreted under the guise of fictional characters providing a moment of epiphany for a spectator.

Theatre is immediate. In the case of phenomenology, the work of art reveals its truth to us (the audience) at the time of the act of listening and perceiving. Each spectator takes in particular facets of the performance moment by moment and has a particular sense of how that performance unfolds in time. Therefore, each audience member will take something unique away from the performance and that is the point.

Reception theory discusses the rehearsal process, the part of the performance that an audience doesn’t really get to see. “If rehearsals are performances, performances must retain the quality of rehearsals: ‘Creation and exploration need not and, in fact, must not stop on the last day of rehearsal; theatre is always a self-destructive act and is always written on the wind’” (Fortier 149). One moment of honesty in rehearsal is worth more than a well received untruthful run. Again, I pursue truth and honesty. It must be real, my craving for things that are 100% pure has definitely been born from the fact that for the majority of my life I have been surrounded by things that were 100% fake or manufactured; the people, their couture facades, dyed hair and manicured nails, hiding behind brand names and country clubs always taking the ‘safe route.’

I thrive on the fact that theatre is spontaneous and self-destructive, it is exciting and it is alive! Theatre should jolt the suburban yuppies who have become comfortable and complacent. Theatre goers should be challenged, made self-aware, made aware of those around them, allow themselves to be comfortably (or uncomfortably) exposed in the dark of a theatre. Audiences should be forced to think and formulate opinions.

The theatrical experience should be visceral and strive to create change within an individual and to allow that individual to catch a glimpse of truth, to see a piece of his or herself portrayed on stage.

Scramble!: Legends of the Run Crew, v.4

Cartoon by: Sam Barickman (WCP Apprentice) aka CRASHMAN