The Royal Family

TheRoyalFamily1

   Ellen Geer, Willow Geer, Melora Marshall

by Diane Grant

I work in a box office. It’s my bread and butter job. The problem with it is that it prevents me from seeing as many plays as I would like to. I’m often taking tickets at one theater when the curtain is going up in theaters all over the city.

So, when I do get chance see a production, I want to see something wonderful.

And last Saturday, August the 17th at 4 pm, at Theatricum Botanicum in Topanga, I did. To begin with, being at Theatricum on a beautiful summer afternoon is a pleasure in itself. The grounds immediately charm and relax you (and you need to relax after driving through Topanga Canyon) and sitting on the stairs (bring a pillow) amongst the trees above the wide outdoor stage makes you feel a part of magic about to happen.

The play was The Royal Family by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber. Written in 1927, it’s about a family of successful actors, based loosely on the famous Barrymores, and it is an absolute delight, fun for everyone and still relevant, particularly to anyone involved in theater.

Here’s what the director, Susan Angelo, says about the play: “Actors who dedicate their life to the theater are a passionate, unique and rare breed. It is hard to explain to non-theater folks the dedication that compels many actors to sacrifice lifestyle, social life and even family, in pursuit of their dream….Their world may be erratic and egocentric, but only because they seek a deeper understanding of humanity, and through their work, experience a heightened sense of their own.”

What actor or playwright would not feel her heart lift when watching a comedy about the demanding, crazy, lasting joy of life upon the stage, particularly one given such an excellent production?

The Geer family, perhaps not that different from Cavendishes of the play, was well represented by Ellen and Willow Geer and Melora Marshall. All the actors, including Ernestine Phillips and Alan Blumenfeld were delightful.

I don’t know Susan Angelo, the director, but the program says that she has been with Theatricum for many years. What I do know is that she had a cast of eighteen moving across the stage, in and out of doors, up and down the stairs, and along corridors (while fencing); all delivering lines with grace, panache and precision. They kept up the farcical pace, without ever descending into camp or forgetting the humanity of the characters.

The Seedlings program at Theatricum, [email protected], with our own Jennie Webb, who is Playwrights’ Development Director, and John Maidman, the Seedlings producer, is worth checking out, too. I had a play of mine, The Last Of The Daytons, read there a few years ago and it was a very positive and helpful experience.

In the meantime, if you are looking for fun, do go and see The Royal Family.

Gotta Have a Gimmick, Part Two

by Kitty Felde

Just want to followup on a comment from playwright Mallery Avidon:

Welcome to LAFPI! It’s a wonderful group of women writers battling it out in Los Angeles to draw attention to the work and increase the number of produced plays by women writers.

I think I need to more fully explain my inclusion of your play in my description of what I call “gimmick” plays.

As I noted, I don’t use the term as a derogatory genre. Shakespeare himself used cross dressing lovers to great effect in “Twelfth Night.” It’s a trend I’ve noticed as a genre showing up on legitimate stages all over the country. They can add an element of fun and excitement to a play. It’s what Hollywood might call a “hook” – something that will turn a curious audience member into one who will buy a ticket.

And as playwrights, it’s something we should take a look at as another reason a theatre might want to produce our plays.

Here, let me express my own personal opinion, not that of LAFPI:

I am not a fan of “Clybourne Park” for reasons other than the writing. I think Norris got it wrong. I grew up in Compton, lived through the white flight and thereafter. I just think his history is wrong in Act One. (I’m not the only one: Kwame Kwei-Armah, artistic director at Centerstage – like me – wrote a play IN RESPONSE to “Clybourne Park.”)

“Oh Guru Guru Guru, or why I don’t want to go to yoga class with you” has a terrific first act – funny, heartfelt, a story that felt specific and real. The fact that the writer used the “gimmick” of a lecture was icing on the cake. In my own opinion, the use of several other gimmicks in the next two acts – demonstrating the life in an ashram, audience participation, the surprise of “it’s only a movie!”, the conversation with Julia Roberts – detracted from the strong beginning. And from the play, which tackles a unique experience: growing up in an ashram and how that affects a person’s life.

Would I buy a ticket to a gimmick play? Of course! Would I write one? You bet.

Gimmick Plays

By Kitty Felde

I mentioned in an earlier posting that I’ve seen a lot of new “gimmick” plays lately. Our fellow LAFPI member Marissa was “wondering what you mean by ‘gimmick plays’ being the new hot trend these days” and asks what kinds of gimmicks are showing up onstage.

Great question.

First of all, I don’t mean to disparage the genre. It’s a concept as old as playwriting and the mantra of Hollywood. Another way of describing it would be a “hook.” In my own personal theatre dictionary, I’d describe a Gimmick Play as one that offers something else besides character, dialogue and plot to draw in an audience.

Here’s a few examples: Bruce Norris’ “Clybourne Park” is a two gimmick play. It’s a riff on Lorraine Hansberry’s “Raisin in the Sun” AND it offers the added bonus of having the cast from Act 1 play completely different characters in Act 2.

At the Humana Festival, there was another play with FOUR gimmicks: “Oh Guru Guru Guru, or why I don’t want to go to yoga class with you” (I suppose you could count the title as a sort of gimmick, too…) by Mallery Avidon. Gimmick one: a lecture. The first act is a lecture, complete with slide show, of the “author” explaining the premise. Very funny. Gimmick two: we go to the ashram in act two where audience members are invited to come onstage and sit on embroidered pillows to be enlightened. And then there’s gimmick three where we discover the ashram is just a film set for “Eat, Pray, Love” and act three is a conversation with Julia Roberts about how tough it is to be Julia Roberts.

“Clybourne Park” would have stood on its own feet without any gimmicks; “Guru” would not.

There was one FABULOUS gimmick play at Humana – tucked in with two real turkeys. Apparently the acting school in Louisville is learning how to fly ala Peter Pan or Spiderman or that Angel in Tony Kushner’s work. And there really aren’t a lot of other plays out there with flying actors. So Humana commissioned a trio of writers to come up with them. The real genius gimmick piece was by Lucas Hnath called “nightnight.” He used the gimmick of flying to show weightlessness in space, telling the story of a trio of astronauts on a mission. It was brilliant. You marveled at the cleverness of the gimmick itself: an astronaut sleeps in zero gravity, lying sort of sideways, suspended above our eyes, the launch itself had the actors straddle a wall twelve feet high, upside down. It was marvelous to watch. The director also created with perfect accuracy the mumblety dialogue of the NASA engineers in Mission Control, chattering about who knew what constantly. But the play itself was about the conflict between characters, their ambitions, their foibles, their actions.
It’s not a new concept. Shakespeare certainly wrote gimmick plays. “Twelfth Night” could be described as a cross dressing play; “Hamlet” as a ghost story. Again, though, it’s the writing that carries the play, not the gimmick.

And I suppose here’s my beef: a lot of theatres are choosing work for the gimmick, not the writing. It will certainly sell tickets. But will those theatre-goers return for more once the gimmick has been revealed?

PLOT

By Kitty Felde

I’ve always hated Aristotle.

He said there were only two parts to a good drama – the rising action leading to the climax, and the denouement, or the unraveling that follows. It sounds so simple. But my brain doesn’t work that way.

I remember when I first started out as a reporter. It was so hard for me to write with the denouement in the lede. Why the heck would you put your best stuff at the top? I wanted to tell a story the way you tell a story – give your audience a setting, introduce them to the characters, make things worse for them, and worse again, and solve the problem. But news rarely conforms to that clean format.

And I find that when I write plays, those stories rarely conform either.

I wonder if it’s because I don’t like torturing my characters. I like them too much to give them grief, let alone trouble after trouble. I enjoy spending time with them. I don’t want to kill them off.

Which leads me to my Act Two problem.

I’m still stuck in Act Two of my romantic comedy. Perhaps I should look at my favorite films to see how those writers solved this part of the story. You know, the part where both parties admit to themselves that they are in fact attracted to each other. I know logically that there needs to be some sort of complication, an obstacle that gets in their way. Now, make it worse.

I know, I know, Mr. Aristotle. I need some of that rising action leading to a climax. I just wish I knew what it was.

So I appeal to you, my fellow writers. What secrets do you have to share about digging yourself out of Act Two?

I await your wisdom.

New Play Festivals: GO!

by Kitty Felde

I’ve done the ballpark tour: planning vacations to cities with interesting baseball stadiums, trying to visit every one of them. Unfortunately, new stadiums were being built at a rapid rate and many of the old ones I’d visited were being torn down, so that goal of seeing them all went out the window.

But I’ve started a new vacation tour: new play festivals. And fellow “emerging” playwrights, I highly recommend it for several reasons:

– The Work: It’s like Fashion Week. You get the opportunity to see who’s hot (or for cynics like me: which MFA playwriting program is currently churning out kids with promise), spot trends (gimmick plays, in case you wondered), and see plays that aren’t perfect – always a wonderful opportunity to practice your writerly skills and imagine how YOU’D fix the play.

– Ego Boost: Seeing new work can also be a real confidence builder. You realize that the quality of your writing isn’t lacking; you know you can turn out work equal to or much better than anything you’ve seen. It sends you home to your laptop with real determination.

– Relationships: In a business built as much on who you know as the quality of writing, these weekends are grand opportunities. This spring, fellow DC playwright DW Gregory persuaded me to join her in Louisville, Kentucky for Humana. They have two “industry” weekends, which I discovered means that artistic directors, dramaturgs, university theatre professors, and literary managers from all over the country show up. Very few playwrights. The schmoozefest began at the airport where – because there just aren’t that many flights to Louisville – half a dozen DC theatre folk were on the same flight. At Humana, there were pie meet and greets, seminars, and lots of drinking. Because there were so few playwrights, the opportunity to have actual conversations instead of 15 second elevator speeches was priceless.

– New Play Festival 101 – I also attended CATF – the Contemporary American Theatre Festival at Shepherdstown, West Virginia – this summer, again with local writer DW Gregory. This time, we brought our husbands, lured with the promise of bike rides along the C&O Canal. We saw two very good and one just awful play. How could that happen? We attended a Q&A session one evening after a show in a local restaurant (again, the alcohol flowed freely…) and got to ask how they pick their plays. The artistic director is the main guru, making final selections after others at CATF have sifted through the submissions from agents. (Alas, having no agent myself, that counts me out for a while.) But the one klunker we saw: it was an actress they had worked with previously. Her husband directed this particular show (by one of those hot young playwrights) in New York and they brought it down to CATF intact. Aha! That’s the way the theatre world works. Which takes us back to relationships and ego boost…

– Californians: I live in DC now, but I miss California – the beaches, the produce, the weather. But I also realize I miss Californians. At every new play festival I’ve attended, for some reason I find myself gravitating towards Californians. We think differently, perhaps we’re more open. And because we have SO much theatre, there’s a lot of us at these festivals.

– The Unexpected: the highlight of Humana for me was meeting Paula Vogel in a drink line at a loud, local bar. And SHE was excited to meet ME! Alas, not because of my playwriting, but because of my day job on public radio. But that led to a lovely conversation and subsequent following of each other on Twitter.

You lucky folks in LA have several new play festivals within driving distance: South Coast Repertory’s Pacific Playwrights Festival, the Ojai Playwrights Festival, Playfest up in Santa Barbara. They’re on my list. Look for me in the audience next year.

Dramatists Guild National Conference

 

Next week the second Dramatists Guild National Conference will be held in Chicago, IL, August 22 – 25, 2013.  For more information please go to the National Conference information page on the Dramatists Guild website (www.dramatistsguild.com).

 

The Art of War or the War of Art…

by Robin Byrd

 

I love to read The Art of War by Sun Tzu – it keeps me on my toes and it translates to every area of my life especially the writing life I am trying to have.

Recently, I ran across a writing book titled The Art of War for Writers by James Scott Bell.   I am having a lot of fun going through it even though it is basically for novel writers but writing is writing.  It deals with reconnaissance, tactics, and strategy and it’s a very interesting read.

Reconnaissance – covers the mental game of writing,

“1.  The writer who observes the battlefield before entering the fray will be better equipped to plan strategy and tactics.”

Tactics- covers craft,

“35.  The use of a voice journal will keep characters from becoming little versions of the writer.”

and Strategy – covers publishing.

“71.  Always be ready to talk to someone in the elevator.”

There are nice quotes, observations, a few exercises and other tidbits. 77 points in all interspersed with quotes from Sun Tzu.  And, it’s easily modified to fit a playwright’s world of “stuff.”

It takes a lot to stay the course after rejection; it’s an ongoing battle to stay focused.  I like this book because it’s small and easy to pick a random point and get a lot out of it.  It costs about $15.00 US and is worth the money.

Cemented in Riverbed…

by Robin Byrd

I live by the Los Angeles River.  Until recently, I thought it was a drainage ditch (the sign was missing).  It has been cemented in and down the center of the cement slabs runs a stream of water – the river.  It bothers me every time I cross the bridge that is built over it. Why?  Because sometimes I drive several miles just to see the ocean or a lake because bodies of water have a calming effect and help me when I am writing.  With the exception of the drainage ditch otherwise known as the Los Angeles River, I usually come away from the ocean, river, lake, or even fountain refreshed.  To think that I am two blocks away from a river that doesn’t look, smell, or flow like a river.

There is a certain expectancy where rivers are concerned – greenery/the presence of nature for one.  New life…  I have read that this river suffers pollution from agricultural and urban runoff.  I have also read that there is talk of removing the concrete to allow the restoration of natural vegetation and wildlife.  It’s out of place this river in the city; it’s not allowed to be its natural self.

I feel like that river sometimes – stuck beneath preconceived notions of story and the telling of such – ever fighting runoffs.  I am tired of hearing that there are no stories for female actors, no good female writers or no female directors specifically regarding persons of color.

We’re here just under some damn cement; if you look closely you’ll see we’re chipping away at it from the underside…

Getting the Goal

by Jessica Abrams

I’ve been musing about something for a while now, so when I realized it was my turn to blog, I jumped at the opportunity to make those wayward ramblings of my brain public.

A few months ago I submitted a play to a friend of a friend who was looking to produce some theatre for herself and a handful of actor friends.  She wanted “women’s stories”, she said, something different from HBO’s “Girls”, which she didn’t really connect to; something that spoke to her in a truthful way without the glibness and arch that categorize so many current female-driven mass-produced stories.  I sent her a play about a woman who finds out she’s pregnant and the various people in her life she tells.  She liked it, she said, but it wasn’t for her.  Where are the stories about women being empowered, she asked.  Where are the stories where women are actively pursuing a goal and being the driving force in their own lives?

I’ve thought quite a bit about that lament, probably more so than usual because the taste of rejection was still lingering on my tongue.  But the truth is, not long before I’d seen an article written by a literary manager of a well-known theatre (it was a while ago so specifics are blurry) whose argument for the gender disparity in American theatre was the same cri de coeur: women are not writing about women who are active participants in their own lives. Women are not driving the story.  Female characters are too passive.

This, of course, is up for debate; but it got me thinking not only about my own characters but about the characters that, across all storytelling mediums, I’ve loved and connected to.  I happen to love “Girls” myself, and what I enjoy most about it is Lena Dunham’s Hannah, who is anything but clear-sighted and goal-driven.  Look at Blanche Dubois and her conflicting desires.  Liz Lemon.

The truth is, I find the conflict that is at the core of our being, the struggle to reconcile certain biological imperatives with the world in which we live, to be endlessly fascinating.  That’s obviously a matter of taste, but it does pose a broader question: why insist on telling  male-driven, goal-seizing stories when our biological, social, emotional, and spiritual make-up lends itself to a different experience? That’s not to slap on a set of stereotypes for either gender, but to allow for the innate differences in each, and allow those differences to be reflected in the creative work that each brings forth.  By mandating that women should be a certain way, and that way has typically been more associated with men — male protagonists and men in general — blurs the lines that make our differences, as people, artists and characters in stories, so sublime and rich.

In theatre especially, where the truth of our existence has a better chance of being mirrored back to us, I believe it’s even more important for women to stay true to the types of stories we want to tell, whatever level of “activated” and “empowered” our characters may or may not be.  And I don’t scorn those words by any stretch, I simply yearn for the day when those labels are not the deciding factor in having our voices heard in as broad a scope as possible, and for us to be given the chance to be the fearless storytellers we were meant to be.

Considering Consciousness

By Cynthia Wands

Some of my most profound moments of consciousness have been in the theatre.

Espcially when I’ve been surprised. I love the moment after I’ve been changed by a surprise and I’m conscious of the “before I knew” and the “after I knew”.

John Searle studies consciousness. Consciousness is a subject that makes scientists huffy (they see it as something subjective) and that makes philosophers uncomfortable (since it speaks to the mind and body being of different realms).

In this TED talk, Searle lays out a simple way to understand this complex phenomenon: as a condition of our biology. As he puts it, all states of consciousness are the result of neurobiological processes in the brain. “Consciousness is a biological phenomenon like photosynthesis, digestion or mitosis,” he says. “Once you accept that, most though not all of the hard problems about consciousness evaporate.”

Searle debunks some commonly held ideas about consciousness — like that it is an illusion, that it is a computer program running in the brain, that you can’t make objective claims about something that is subjective.

http://blog.ted.com/2013/07/22/4-talks-on-a-strange-phenomenon-we-all-experience-consciousness/

There were a couple of surprises in his talk.

vladimir_kush_015_metamorphosis