Time to put the season to bed

Ah the Hangar, where making theater 24/7 was our agenda for the past three months. So many great moments— Kayaking on Cayuga Lake, jumping in a gorge, and eating veggies fresh from the farmer's market on a rare day off. Stopping up doorways with towels and wet vac-ing water out of a drowning theater in a storm. Putting new plays on their feet for the first time for uproariously supportive audiences. Working with an amazing company of uber-talented artists in a totally bucolic environment. Creating the first site-specific 24 hour playwriting festival. Adults making children's plays and having a blast doing it. Chicken Soup, Paddington Bear, Grumpy and Lowly Worm signing autographs for wee ones in the summer sun. Real life drama that put into perspective the drama we concocted in rehearsal rooms. Mourning the loss of every project as we struck each set and catapulted toward the next rehearsal. Great people making great work day in and day out. Truly Inspiring. Hangar Lab Company, you will be missed!

A look back...

Well, our time at the Hangar has officially ended. It seems like just yesterday we were walking, excited and scared, into a new environment with new people – none of whom had any idea what to expect in the months to come. This summer certainly had its share of surprises, perhaps the biggest and most profound being the relationships that developed amongst our company. I was reminded that the main reason I am involved in theatre is for the people; the artists (friends, therapists, family) you surround yourself with who support, challenge, and inspire you as you collaborate to create an important, personal, meaningful work of art. They are also the ones who are there for you in the midst of crisis and struggle.

During the final rotation, I felt incredibly fortunate to be directing a new play by Krista Knight called Clementine and the cyber ducks. It was a rich and complex script that traces the mistakes and ultimate downfall of a woman in her struggle for independence. During rehearsals, I received a phone call that a friend from back home had been in a car accident and was in critical condition. In the moment it seemed necessary for me to be there with her, so Sherri – who was producing at the time – graciously agreed to take over rehearsals. Thankfully, my friend was awake when I arrived at the hospital and was on her way to recovery. Those couple of days are still a little blurry in my memory, being my first brush with losing a loved one. I was able to return to the Hangar, and was moved by the way everyone in the company had stepped up to support each other in this most unexpected of circumstances. It was one of those rare occasions where life intervened, and I felt fortunate to be working with such a caring and gracious company.

This experience put into perspective a lot of what I had been struggling with throughout the summer (and in my career thus far), and made it clear that we must know what is important to us – not only as artists but as orchestrators of our own lives. I am reminded of a discussion we had at the Directors Symposium earlier in the summer about creating a personal mission statement in relation to our goals in life and as directors. I know I have a lot left to learn about directing, but one thing I know for sure is that I must never lose touch with the fact that we are in this together – directors, actors, designers, stage managers, crew and audience alike – and must support each other in our efforts.

My time at the Hangar was a rare opportunity to engage in an intense, challenging, and invigorating few months with some of the most talented people I have had the pleasure of working with. I know that the lessons learned and the relationships cultivated will be with me always, and that I have the Drama League to thank for such an incredible experience. I feel especially fortunate to have met Sherri, Mia, and Jesse; they possess such amazing talent and I was able to learn so much from them about our craft as directors. I cherish every moment spent with them, every piece of advice, every late-night conversation, every quirk, and every catastrophe that we tackled together. They will be missed.

Going Greek - Rotation 2

Once upon a time in rotation 2, I directed The Bacchae, my first Greek tragedy. A big question I had going in was – does humor exist in Greek tragedy and if so, how does it express itself? As such, we focused on the irony at work in characters like Dionysus and integrated elements of commedia into Cadmus and Tiresius. Our process provided an opportunity for me to explore a more choreographic approach to movement, one of my goals for the summer. In exploring the physicality of our chorus, we did a lot of gesture work and element work and created elaborate movement sequences to reinforce the odes.

The Bacchae was an excellent opportunity for me to work on my skills as an adapter. We focused on the conflict between Penthius and Dionysus and the questions of gender at play in their relationship. In exploring these questions, we started with the idea of liminal space - where edges blur and bright line distinctions grow hazy. We used the imagery of night, shadow, and moonlight. Managed to fit a shadow puppet play and a moon box into the show – too much fun!

Something else I learned a great deal about in rotation 2 was how to use an assistant. This summer is my first time with the luxury of having a full time AD. Sarah Coury, our assistant for Bacchae proved invaluable, enabling me to increase my efficiency exponentially by taking notes and running a second rehearsal room when needed.

I was blessed with a tremendous cast of eager collaborators, as well as a visionary design team and a terrific crew and stage manager. They made rehearsals an absolute joy. I am so proud of the work we did together.

The final stretch

Directing two new plays in the Wedge with both playwrights present at the productions here was such a unique opportunity. New play process is always a different animal-dependent on the director/playwright collaboration, casting, the rewrite process, and production resources. It's inspiring to have seen two new plays grow so much in my brief but intensive rehearsal processes here at the Hangar, and to have worked with such brave, talented, enthusiastic collaborators. Every day brings a new possibility of deepening the work or throwing it all out and starting from scratch, and being humbled by the greater goal of serving the play in its current incarnation. The big questions arise-what do we want to experiment with in this rehearsal process that will unearth further development of this piece? What specific character arcs or events are we tracking, and are they functioning onstage differently than they function on the page? How will this cast of actors inform the future life of this text? Are there dramaturgical questions to tackle on our feet or to be tabled for the playwright to wrestle with alone? Do we want to "freeze" the script to see a polished staging on its feet, or do we want to privilege process over product, and keep the rewrites coming, even after opening? On Love in the Time of Channukah, Josh and I focused on further definining characters through focused rewrites and larger than life staging choices through choreography and montage work, so that the dna of each relationship was defined not only through the sharp, hilarious and often brutally honest language, but through every stage picture, sound cue, and lighting shift. The moments "in between" became just as expressly narrative as each plot-driven event in the script. We had a blast working on this piece with an amazing cast, in an extremely positive rehearsal room with an incredible amount of trust in each other's work throughout the process. As is always the case with comedy, so much was learned about the play after we opened and invited our audiences in. What reads? What doesn't? What did we think was funny that brought people to tears? What did we revere as serious that made audiences burst into laughter? Each night front-of-house gave the ok to pack in 20-30 standing room only folks from the waiting list and we were all thankful when the weather cooled down because 60+ bodies plus 90 degree summer heat is not exactly pleasant in the good old Wedge! The show ended up running 10 minutes longer on our closing night because of an incredibly vocal audience, and it was amazing to see how attuned the actors were to listening in the moment and truly honoring how incredibly present their audience was every step of the way, without ever sacrificing the integrity of the storytelling or the rhythms of the language as written on the page. There was a remarkable sense of liveness that was infectiously satisfying to both performers and audience members alike in the room. Needless to say, we had a really great time and were sad to strike the show and say goodbye to such a rewarding process.

My favorite part of rotation three actually had nothing to do with theater at all: It involved Channukah's cast beating the pants off of Armchair's cast in a kickball game replete with bleeding limbs, heckling, impromptu dance breaks and a random Scottish guy that showed up at the last minute and proved to be our secret weapon.

It's amazing that we are now launching into our final rotation of shows! Next up is Adventures of a Bear Called Paddington. At this point we've blocked half the play, and we go into spacing on Saturday. My how time flies! See you at kiddstuff!!

A New Day, A New Play

Rotation 3 began with the new play process that welcomed 2 pieces of new work to be developed and 2 new playwrights to town. I have to start off by saying that this company never ceases to amaze me.

I directed The Armchair Traveler by Libby Leonard. Both the playwright and the actors were unbelievably generous with their commitment to the work and the time it takes to build a new play.

Working with Libby was fabulous because we gave each other room to create and then always checked in. If there was a discrepancy, which I must say was rare we just worked together to work it out and always came back to the story. This created a huge air of trust in the room, which spread to the actors. There wasn't an ounce of ego in the room and every single person always came back to the questions of “what will tell a stronger story, what will help develop this character, and how can we do this in a different, justifiable, and powerful way.” The communication over-flowed and then once in tech the design staff was able to push this process to another level. We all collaborated, took risks, and battled through to create a visceral story.

Developing a new play is an incredible challenge and the best way to see what works or doesn't is to try things many different ways in the room before finally deciding. The best way to do this is to commit 100% to all the actions. Out of this process a new non-textual opening came about, a character change his accent, and another one her age.

This is how to do it-everything and nothing is sacred all at once. Just stay open and committed to the work. Don't be afraid to say, “I don't know” and be open to many things...but then as the director be ready to set boundaries and work within those so that storytelling is clear. Decisions have to be made but in order to get to that, things may need to be looked at from different directions-I try to trust my instincts and see things for the musicality or rhythm of the play-then pull the rug out when you least expect it.

Way back when, in early June....

Let’s flashback a couple of weeks for a sec, shall we? I spent my first rotation in the Lab as Producer. How much fun to help 3 enterprising directors and their amazingly talented actors, designers, ADs and SMs realize their vision. What struck me in particular was the combination of variety and similarity I found in the rehearsal rooms of all 3 processes. Each director shared a common interest in storytelling, but with a musical, a classic verse text and a new play to contend with, the routes taken to accomplish these goals varied widely. Something that was consistently fascinating to watch was Sherri’s work on Really Rosie, the first of our Kiddstuff shows. Really Rosie (for those of you not familiar with the cartoon) is a musical with book and lyrics by Maurice Sendak and music by Carol King. As Sherri had never directed a musical before, it was incredibly inspiring to see the enthusiasm which she dived into it – learning how to work with a Choreographer and discovering how much of what she already does as a director of non-musical work – table work, actor/director devised moments etc. can be applied to this show. As I look forward to Busytown, which will be my first time directing a musical, it’s great have such an inspirational example.

First rotation was a huge lesson for me in leadership. I learned so much about how to support an artist in the midst of his or her process. Sometimes this means a frantic run to the gas station to pick up lighter fluid for the Zippo. Other times it just means listening and letting someone vent their frustrations to a friendly ear. The question I came back to over and over again was – how can I make each person’s job simpler for them to focus on? – clear away the clutter, as it were, so they can deal with the problem in front of them as opposed to this interpersonal conflict or that vagary of unforeseen circumstance.

Producing remains one of my passions, but, as the rotation came to a close, I found myself hungry for the rehearsal room and to get started on the Bacchae. More on that soon…

Understanding the Character Outside of the Text

Today was particularly inspiring. This morning began with production meetings for Rotation 3, while the afternoon was filled with rehearsals for Rotation 2. I'm currently directing Act 1 and 2 of “References to Salvador Dali Make Me Hot” by Jose Rivera. I asked the actors to prepare and bring in specific "moments" pertaining to their characters. The moments I asked for from each character were a moment of Rage, Happiness, Prayer, Isolation/Sadness, Hunger and Ecstasy. They were free to use each other, the elements, and any prop they desired. The only rules were that nothing could be mimed and that you had to begin each moment by stating "I begin" and close each moment with "I end." I asked the actors to perform this exercise because it helps enable a marriage between how I believe the characters behave and what the actors have already begun to internally inhabit.

What came out of this exercise gave richness to the story; it helped further develop behavior, and allowed the actors to explore the emotional and physical layers of who their character really is. I was able to see what the actors were thinking by watching them show me how their character would explore those moments. For instance, for her moment of prayer, an actor took out her guitar, began playing and singing while the actor playing the coyote howled along to the tune. I was able to help the actors understand the life that exists in their characters between the text, between the words spoken. This in turn helped them understand how to better enrich the gorgeous and haunting words they are saying as well as gain a better understanding of where things needed to be shaped. Rather than just telling, this allows me to show them, because they've already begun showing themselves. It was an incredible rehearsal and out of these moments, we were able to stage the beginning of the play in a way that only collaboration could help come to fruition.