The Many Breasted Diana Has A Hard Time Saying No

By Cynthia Wands

I enjoyed reading this post from Bitter Gertrude about her blog post:  Why Your Play Was Rejected.

I like this kind of smart, mouthy humor. But then again…..(this section is from her post):

“Luckily for you, you live in the WORLD OF TOMORROW, where submitting a play is as easy as hitting “send.” Take a moment to think of the poor playwrights of yesteryear (15 years ago) who were copying out scripts at work when their supervisors were in a meeting and having to mail them out to theatres at $2.50 a pop if they didn’t work in a company with a mailroom (I remember getting submissions from Lehman Brothers regularly). The flip side of the newfound ease of the submission process is that we’re all getting hundreds and hundreds of scripts, all the time. Even if your script is fantastic, is it better for THAT THEATRE at THAT MOMENT than the other 412 the theatre will get that year? Maybe the AD has done three comedy-heavy seasons and is considering moving to a more drama-heavy season the next year. Maybe the theatre is hoping to work with a specific director and looking for scripts that will appeal to her. Or perhaps this director is already involved in the selection process. Maybe this director had a recent personal experience that increases her interest in a certain topic, and although your play is just as awesome, the play submitted right after yours is about exactly that topic. The point is: You don’t know. The variables are endless, and the competition is just insane. When I’m in season planning season (ha) in Dec/Jan, I’ll sit at my computer and open file after file after file, reading plays for hours every single day. I don’t even glance at the name of the playwright or the title of the work unless I’m already interested in moving it up to my contenders file, or if I’m sending an email to my LM indicating which ones to reject. It’s truly crazy how many plays we get, and we’re the smallest dog on the block.”

I guess I don’t live in the World of Tomorrow, where submitting my play is as easy as hitting the send button.

I live in a world where I carefully consider what I am writing and who and where the play belongs.  And that does mean that the rejection of my play does seem personal, and costly and difficult.

But I also know that I hate disappointing people, that I have a hard time saying no to someone I like/respect/want to succeed. So I’m glad I don’t have the job of being Bitter Gertrude.

Bitter Gertrude Post About Rejecting Plays

Artwork by Steven Kenny

by Cynthia Wands

I found a posting from the writer Barry Lancet that spoke to his challenges with time management for writing.

I loved reading this:

Barry Lancet Article: What It Takes

There have been times in my life when I’ve been able to write in a car/train/airplane/Starbucks/concrete prison cell (I wasn’t actually in prison but I can tell you I now know what that feels like), and my kitchen.

I also have a very nice office set up with a totems and books and scripts and a beautiful handmade lamp sitting on the desk. I can have a hard time writing there.  (Especially if there is a cat sitting on the keyboard.)

But I loved reading about this writer’s determination and follow through.

Artwork by Christian Schole

by Cynthia Wands

When I was a child,  I remember thinking that empathy was another word for sympathy.  I don’t know where I got that idea – but it made for some confusing conversations as I got older. (Especially around funerals and the dialogue around funerals…)

I’ve been blessed with being simpatico, sympathetic, understanding and yes, followed with a strong dash of empathy for the people in my life. A lot of that has to do with being born a twin, and having a twin sister that I could learn from, with and around.

A side effect of all this connecting behaviors, is my impulse towards collaboration.  I’ve come to realize that I work better in a group/cast/team/workshop than left to my own devices.  I feel a stronger sense of obligation/commitment and process in a group dynamic – left alone I tend to distract myself with other issues (does the cat needs another kind of kitty litter?)

So it Iwas very interested in this interview about collaborative design as a kind of “empathy.”

60 Minutes Interview with David Kelley

From 60 Minutes:

What makes a great designer? According to IDEO founder David Kelley, who gave the TED Talks “Human-centered design” and “How to build your creative confidence,” being an incredible designer isn’t necessarily about having a great aesthetic sensibility or coming up with out-of-the-box ideas. No,  Kelley says that the key characteristic is empathy. “Be empathetic.”

He explains, “The big thing about design thinking is it allows people to build on the ideas of others. Instead of just having that one thread. You think about it, I come up with an idea, and then somebody from somewhere else says, ‘Oh that makes me think we should do this and then then we could do that.’ And then you get to a place that you just can’t get to in one mind.”

This reminded me so much of the creative process when we work in theatre together.  And it does bring us to a place where we can’t get to by ourselves.

By Cynthia Wands

by Cynthia Wands

I had a trusted colleague edit one of my scripts recently, and he did an incredible, insightful, generous job of helping me see the problems in the script, and better choices I can make. His “review” of my work was invaluable, and I’m really grateful to him for the insight and consideration he gave me in his comments.

I’m still trying to process his comments to make the changes to the script.  And today, I stumbled across a review for a production of “Romeo & Juliet” at Playwrights Horizon Theare, by John Simon, a theatre critic I used to read.  I’ve seen several shows at Playwrights Horizon, and have had wonderful and dreadful experiences watching their shows.

Having just raved about “The Hollow Crown” series on PBS, I read this review with a strange sense of relief that I wasn’t in this production. And a weird sense of relief that someone could write with such zinging bitterness about what he saw. I’m aware of the history of “outrage” this critic feels about the director from past productions, someone who is referred to as “one of the world’s worst directors.”  But it did give me pause.

I have performed in productions that have received horrible reviews, desevedly or not, and I hated that exposure and helplessness. And I know some actors  who won’t read reviews from critics. (At least they try and not read the reviews from critics.) I’ve also been in shows that were praised to the skies and I wondered what the critics were they looking at.

And I know that The Westchester Guardian isn’t The New York Times or Variety, and John Simon isn’t the Drama Critic for a wide audience like he used to be. But boy, is he cranky in this review.  I guess I want to share it with you:

Romeo and Juliet

The faulty governing idea behind the production of “Romeo and Juliet” is that the Montagues are white and the Capulets black, and the whole thing predominantly modern but of no particular place, none of which the play can accommodate. This includes a Romeo who arrives on a motorcycle, and a Nurse who pushes around a bicycle she manifestly cannot ride. And the Prince here is black, sealing the illogic.

There are all kinds of meaningless fires all over the place, except in the performances, and the men keep jumping on one another, piggyback or prone, once even in a threesome. Condola Rashad’s Juliet speaks in a maddening singsong; Chuck Cooper’s Capulet bellows like a demented trombone; Christian Camargo’s Mercutio carries on like a flagrant homosexual; the death of Paris, like so very much else, has been cut; and instead of germane and fascinating swordplay, we get quick, prosaic stabs by switchblades.

The usual trouble, this, when one of the world’s worst directors, David Leveaux, whose Britishness must seem to some proof of quality, is in charge. Why he is repeatedly imported only to ruin everything he touches is beyond comprehension. Here again nonsense prevails. The set is a giant quasi-Renaissance mural that can split in three, the top mounting out of sight, the rest bisected, off to opposite sides. A large bell is omnipresent, displayed at various heights, but rung only one not particularly compelling time.

There is a rather measly masked ball, with animal masks worn flat on the top of heads, or missing altogether. There is Juliet’s bed, with her on it, raised sky-high and overhanging several scenes. There is a Lady Capulet with shaved head looking ridiculous. There is Jayne Houdyshell hamming it up as Nurse, and carrying on as if she were the central character. There is a Friar Lawrence, well-spoken by the good Brent Carver, but about whom there is nothing religious. There is the monochrome snarling Tybalt of Corey Hawkins. And there is the excellent Benvolio of Conrad Kemp, who outshines the merely acceptable Romeo of movie star Orlando Bloom.

And then there is the famous balcony, here a peculiar structure low enough for Romeo to chin himself on, looking like nothing on earth and having to double as Juliet’s bedroom. If after all this—and more—you still want to see this aberration, on your head let it be.

The Westchester Guardian Review of “Romeo & Juliet”

by Cynthia Wands

I’ve been watching the PBS series: The Hollow Crown, which follows Shakespeare’s Richard II, Henry IV, Part 1,  Henry IV, Part 2 and Henry V.

I performed some of these shows when I was an actor, and was curious to see how they would hold up for me as an audience member years later.  I have to say the performances are stunning, the character development, the concept of the times and the machinations of the royals – beautifully done.

But I found myself waiting for the women to appear. In a cast of several dozen, there are usually three, maybe four women in a Shakespeare show.  And I’d forgotten that so much of these “history” plays are about war, posturing about war, arguing about war, playing the chess game about war.  And so much of the issues about “history” seemed to me, in the viewing, to be about men claiming their place in the world. So much yelling.

I’d also thought that the Henry V was a herioc tale of England legacy; and in this time and place, I saw it more as a story of an invading country trying to justify grabbing French real estate. I kept thinking how different would this history be if women, who give birth to the soldiers and the rulers of this story, actually were decision makers during this time.  Would women look at a body count of 10,000 dead in the battle of Agincourt as a gift from God?

Mabye it’s the mood I’m in, with the debacle in Congress on governing our country, and the feeling of being lost in the “history” of things.  But I think the reason I’m feeling all these things from watching this series, is that the performances were so transcendent. The characters were in conflict and torment and finally, in resolve, of their life’s purpose.  And that, to me, is great acting from great writing.

And I keep thinking of the King Richard as played by Ben Whishaw. His ability to speak “immortal verse” and make it as accessible as any contemporay conversation was amazing. I found myself holding my breath during some of his speeches: I have never heard an actor make such beautiful connections with this language before. I loved how he kept surprising us with the sharp turns and twists in the landscape of his mind: what a generous and brilliant actor.

It really was quite a gift to witness this production. I hope you get to see it.

The Hollow Crown on PBS

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.

by Cynthia Wands

I have a chance to share this opportunity with our readers, and I want to champion those of us who would like a challenge to pursue this opportunity!

(I’ve done something similar to this before and it was a great discipline to get a project going and done!)

The 31 Plays in 31 Days Project is a chance for playwrights to push themselves to write a new play every day for the month of August. The plays must be a minimum of one page. Are you up for the challenge?

Why?

The 31 Plays in 31 Days Project is based on the idea that to become a better writer, you must write. You must write a lot. And you need to practice experimenting with your writing form constantly. The pressure of this goal will allow you to set aside preconceived notions of what you should be writing and how you should be doing it. You will not have time to overanalyze your work, you will just have to write, write, write and be surprised by what comes out of you. You may love your work some days and wonder what happened on others, but by the end of the month, you will have amassed 31 new plays. Instead of waiting for the breeze of inspiration to blow your way, you will see that writing is a craft that can be called on at any time.

When?

August 1st at 12:00 am until August 31st at 11:59pm

Where?

Anywhere and everywhere!

Who?

Playwrights who are crazy enough to write 31 Plays in just 31 short days!

Finally…. How?

Register here. We’ll send you instructions on how to submit your script daily. Or, you can just write a play a day on your own and not tell us about it! We encourage all participants to comment on their progress often, and their experience throughout the month.

31 Plays in 31 Days is sponsored by Play Cafe, a Berkeley based playwright group.

Code of Ethics & Guidelines

A lot of writers are wondering what the rules are for the 31 Plays in 31 Days project. We really only have one: write 31 plays within the 31 days of August.  The 31 Plays in 31 Days project exists to serve your needs as a writer. We’re providing you with a challenging and structured opportunity to write while giving you the flexibility you need to be successful. The following Code of Ethics and Guidelines are designed to give you parameters within which to work. Rachel and I are busy moms and we don’t have time to carefully monitor every playwright and still write our own plays. With that said, we are moms and we have ways of knowing if you’re behaving or not …

CODE OF ETHICS

1. No plagiarism. Seriously, what’s the point of doing this project if you’re going to copy someone else?

2. Submit only new plays written in August. It’s one thing to write a play based on ideas conceived earlier, but this is not the time to tweak a play you wrote, workshopped, and produced two years ago. If you’re really stuck on revisiting a story you’ve written before, consider how you can retell the story in a completely different way (maybe all of the characters are dogs, the setting has changed from a WWI battlefield to a modern high school, etc.).

3. Treat this challenge as an opportunity to bump up against some walls and break through them. When facing self-doubt and self-sabotage, provide yourself with excuses and opportunities to succeed. We will offer writing prompts to help you move beyond writer’s block, and we’ll post encouraging messages to help you continue on this journey.

GUIDELINES

1. Each play should, by your standards, have some semblance of being a complete play. The length, structure, presence (or lack of presence) of a through line, and all of the other “rules” about what makes a “good” play are all subject to your whim.

2. Submit the work that you’re not happy with. We don’t care if your characters are believable, if your plot is plausible, or if your ending is satisfying. We just want you to write a bunch of stories in a fixed period of time. We won’t publish or perform anything without your permission.

3. Do your best to submit one play per day. Although you will be able to submit everything at the end of the month, you’ll be more likely to keep up with the project if you submit frequently and regularly.

4. Create space in your day to write. Consider scheduling specific times to write each day or writing alongside a friend to make sure you follow-through on your commitment. (Yes, you can collaborate on plays with other writers, and you can each submit the same play as part of your 31 plays in August.) We are really excited that you’re interested in participating in this writing challenge. We’re as nervous as you are about figuring out ways to succeed in writing 31 plays in 31 days, but we know we can do it, and we know you can, too. Honestly, this project is about helping us overcome the things that get in our way. Whether or not you follow our guidelines or write 31 plays, this project will give you a chance to stretch your playwright’s muscles. Go for it!

Visit this link for more information:   http://31plays31days.com/about

I found an inspiring talk by Amy Cuddy on “body language”.  And it resonated with me in all the ways that words become scripts become characters become bodies.

As an actor I’ve worked with some stage directors who were all about the floorplan, “Move left three steps, raise your arm, turn away, walk to the wall.” There were times when I was asked to do some physical bit of business, that was not organic to my process, that made me feel like a puppet on a string. Other times, I would find becoming the body of the character in the challenge of doing something that wasn’t my idea.  And sometimes it was all about finding the shoes that my character would wear, as the footprint of the body would tell me how I would walk in that play.

But what I related to most in this talk, was the idea that “I don’t belong here.”  I’ve done a lot of shape shifting in my life, in my travels and shows, and that concept of “belonging” has been a large part of my hunger and identity. Being able to be part of the LA PI blog gives me a place to belong

The clip is 21 minutes long.

Amy Cuddy’s TED Talk

I’m watching a social gaff on Facebook unfold into an example of what happens in real time in social media.

One of the writing groups I belong to found this Facebook posting for a community college production of “The Three Musketeer”:

“Boobs and Swords! Send me an haiku about swashbuckling and win two comps!

(limit 10 pair per performance. Ten pair of what? Comps. Pervert.)

Solano College’s ‘The 3 Musketeers,’ a swashbuckling success”

The director, who was surprised to receive negative feedback for this posting, then created a kind of apology on his (public) Facebook page:

“I really offended a group of total strangers on Facebook of late. I apologize for the offense, it was unintended. I just love my show so much, and my cast is so amazing; some of us have taken to shouting the phrase, “Boobs and Swords!” throughout the rehearsal process, because — well — the show is The Three Musketeers and as it happens, there were an awful lot of boobs and swords in everyday culture back then.”

As a feminist I really object to this guy’s use of language to sell his beloved show. But then I thought, you know, I’ve said some really unfortunate things in my lifetime, onstage and offstage, and I’m really glad that no one seems to record or remember those comments.

But then I read more of the apology:

“What is, for some of us, a happy watch-cry is, for others, extremely offensive. In my enthusiasm for the production, I neglected to consider the feelings of other people. So, for everyone who was offended by my use of the phrase, “Boobs and Swords!”, I apologize. For those of you who don’t know, a warning: The Three Musketeers is set in 1625. There’s an awful lot of … um … ladyjiggles … and even more swordplay going on throughout the show. Now that I’m on the subject, I suppose I should warn everyone that several of the men wear pants that are very tight. If you are not imaginative but also easily-offended, this could be a problem. If you come see the show, whatever you do: do not look at any of the actors’ … manflappies. In fact, it would probably be best if everybody who comes to the show studiously look away whenever ladyjiggles or manflappies can be seen OR imagined in, through or near clothing. Honestly, our budget is not very large. So this presented a problem when costuming the show. As a result, we could only afford one Puritan. Everyone else is a libertine and, sadly, dresses the part. If this will make you uncomfortable in any way, I urge you to stay away.”

So, actually, I think that the director of this show is a complete knucklehead.

Facebook post from the director

And now comments and concerns about this apology are now fluttering all around tweets and Facebook groups and blogs. Like this one.

This was an interesting interview with Carey Perloff at the ACT Theater in San Francisco in Howlround.  Here is her bio:

“Carey Perloff, a vigorous proponent of unusual classical literature and a passionate advocate of new work and new theatrical forms, is celebrating her twentieth year as artistic director of A.C.T. Perloff has directed dozens of award‐winning productions for A.C.T., including the American premieres of works by Tom Stoppard, Harold Pinter, and Timberlake Wertenbaker, world premieres by Philip Kan Gotanda, Constance Congdon, and Mac Wellman, and new interpretations of Schiller, Webster, Euripides, Gorky, Gogol, and Molière.”

Great bio. How many women playwrights did you count in that round up?  One.  Constance Congdon. But then Carey Perloff is also a playwright. So make that two.

I think it’s great that she’s a champion of child care in the workplace. And she has some great things to say about what has prevented other women from getting to leadership positions.

“There are many, many threads to tease out of this. One has to do with women playwrights and women’s stories and why those are so underrepresented.”

But then I read this in her interview:

“One reason this gender conversation has been incredibly valuable is that I’ve never done things like bean counting. I never actually sat down and made a list of the twenty women directors I wanted to hire. When all this conversation came up, I thought  “I should do this, because who is out there that I don’t know? Tons!” I looked at the Goodman season, and half the plays were being directed by women I didn’t know. I thought, “All right, so one of the things is to keep the running list in front of me, so it’s right there. I should get to know the next generation. I should keep the former generation alive too. Are we forgetting who is out there? Sometimes having the list is good. I really don’t like bean counting because I don’t think it’s the solution to diversity.  On the other hand, it makes you think.”

We all work in different ways, but how well informed are you as the artistic director at ACT if you don’t know who half the new women directors were at the Goodman season?  Is her aversion to”bean counting” really an aversion to being held accountable to the very statistics that she cites as a “bottleneck” or a “pulling the ladder up behind her”?

Read the entire interview at the link:

Carey Perloff’s Interview in HowlRound