Tag Archives: Reading

Notes on Reading

by Leelee Jackson

I just spent money I barely have on books I may never read. 

I know I’m not alone in that. I, like many of my friends, have a wide range of books in my personal library. I take pride in my unique and extensive collection of Black plays! Y’all, it’s wild. Some of my anthologies, readers and books are first edition, out of print, and just good ass books. I’ve read a lot of them because of college.  I still have almost every play I had to read in school. Because I had to read them and write about them, they all offered some critical perspective that I often find myself going back to. Sometimes I just read my written notes in them. That’s why I don’t do audiobooks like that; where do I put my lil notes at? Like I gotta keep my opinion to myself!? No. I read in conversation with the writer. And as a writer, when I write, I write to someone. I write in conversation. So I talk back in my books. I just love books so much. I’m that friend who will send you a book because you told me something kinda relevant 3 years ago in the bathroom at the club. A good book be having me so obsessed. Like when I read Assata by Assata Shakur. I for sure was at the DMV, beach, coffee shop, honestly anywhere I may have had to wait for more than 40 seconds, I was pulling that thang out, turning them pages rigorously. I just couldn’t get enough. I felt like I got to learn from Assta personally. Same with Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison and The Delicacy of Embracing Spirals by MIMI tempest. These are books that had me reading cover to cover (which I do not do often).  

But it wasn’t always that way for me. I’ve been reading Ntozake Shange’s Sing a Black Girl’s Song, a collection edited by Imani Perry (who also wrote the best autobiography about Lorraine Hansberry which is in my top 5) and she talks about how Shange grew up with books in her home. Her parents read and bought books for her to read too. Toni Morrison worked at the library when she was like 14. And got in trouble for reading more than she would work. Lorraine Hansberry was similar, very well read. August Wilson literally dropped out of middle school and educated himself at the library. He read everything. All my faves talk about all these good books they remember seeing on the shelves in their homes and engaging with at their local libraries. But not me. The only good book I remember in my home growing up was the good book. I remember my mom reading Fly Girl by Omar Tyree when that came out. She carried it with her everywhere she went and my sister got to read it after her. But not me. I was watching Moesha and Kenan and Kel. I swear the only thing I thought about in elementary school was how I was going to be on Nickelodeon. I wasn’t worried about no books. Mainly because, ya girl couldn’t read! 

It’s wild, I know. I love books so much now but growing up, I had very low comprehension skills. Having ADHD is so distracting sometimes. And it made it hard for me to really understand written words. So during reading time, I just admired pictures. I always struggled in grade school. Teachers begged my mom to allow them to hold me back a grade, put me in special classes and send me to special schools (it was the 90’s so everything was special). But my mom wouldn’t let them. She’d be mad at me for not trying harder but she never let them hold me back. 

It wasn’t until 7th grade in literature class when we were given the opportunity to have a pizza party if we all finished reading a book about a working poor family on the Southside of Chicago who wanted to move into a bigger home. At the time, my family was living with my paternal grandma and in total, there was about 13 of us in the 3 bedroom apartment (1.5 baths). And I never say no to pizza! So I read the first act and I remember loving it so much. How the words were laid out on the page made me feel smart. Every single time I turned the tiny page, I felt less… special. I remember no one in class taking it seriously but not me. I read every line. There were no pictures to look at, instead I saw a world I knew about. 

I love reading now. And I wish I could say after that book in 7th grade I was one of those people who you always caught with a book in hand. But I didn’t. I got better. I did pick up Fly Girl, which felt like a rite of passage. And I did get heavily into the Bible in high school. But it was a very slow journey. But that journey eventually led me to a pen and paper. Allowing me to create worlds of my own. 

I love that for me. 

San Marcos and the Conference that Can… Part I: Mando Alvarado

by Robin Byrd

Crickets as big as two inches shared the Super 8 room with me, I sat up all night because I could not fathom sleeping in a bed full of them or other creepy crawly jumpy things. The old worn out and faded carpet looked like a rug that had been stretched to the walls in pretense. The furniture was a hodge-podge of stuff that had been gathered over the years. The tub mat – to keep one from slipping – was so dirty that when the water hit it a rush of mud-like slush immediately filled the bottom of the tub. Had I been able to lock that darn rental car I had (one of those keyless types), I would not have even taken my things inside. It was the night of the Navy versus Texas State football game and all the rooms were taken in San Marcos including one of the nights of my stay at the Viola Street Inn so I had to find elsewhere to stay for that night. There was a rowdy bunch out in the parking lot most of the night after the game; they partied well into the wee hours of the morning. Had they not been there, I probably would have slept in the un-lockable rental car.

The next day was the last day of the Black and Latino Playwrights Conference at Texas State, San Marcos and I was going to be exhausted…

I was really looking forward to hearing Mando Alvarado’s play “(O)n THE 5:31” read. All week he had been rewriting it. I thought he was crazy – certifiable! – the way he was deconstructing his play and reworking it – in a week. Well, Alvarado is an excellent playwright because he not only pulled it off but it read like he had been working on it longer than the few days. Joe Luis Cedillo said it best at the question and answer segment after the reading, and this is how I remember it “just playwright jealousy, I wish I had thought of that. It’s brilliant.”

Directed by Ruben Gonzalez, (O)n THE 5:31 delivered.  Each actor brought their A game.  The reading was so magnetic, audience members were blown away.

Playwright Mando Alvarado seated (in cap).  Director, Ruben C. Gonzalez seated next to the playwright. Artistic Director of the Black and Latino Playwrights Conference, Eugene Lee (standing in striped vest). Cast and Crew of O(n) THE 5:31 with Cedillo in red taking a picture.
Playwright Mando Alvarado seated (in cap). Director, Ruben C. Gonzalez seated next to the playwright. Artistic Director of the Black and Latino Playwrights Conference, Eugene Lee (standing in striped vest). Cast and Crew of O(n) THE 5:31 with Cedillo in red taking a picture.

This play is quick witted and has a tempo that jolts you in your seat. I found that the play hit me like a dream – the flow, cadence, and unique way the story was told kept me in it on a level that I only reach when I pull all nighters in my own writing where I am so drained and bare the only thing that’s coming out of me is the purest part of the story. Alvarado’s play deals with the present, past, and thoughts in between, the story is also centered around a female character.  In less skillful hands, this structure could be confusing to an audience but Alvarado’s writing is very clear. It keeps you in the moment.   Alvarado’s play makes you punch drunk but all your senses are aware of every high and low of the ride he takes you on, a ride like you never thought existed.

During the week, as I watched the rehearsals, actor Bernardo Cubria possessed an innate ability to articulate the playwright’s words no matter how up heaved. Cubria has worked with Alvarado on several of his plays; this familiarity was helpful to the playwright I am sure but also to the other actors. I watched the actresses as they searched for their characters, worked on spot directions and then changed it as the pages changed. The end result of these three thespians navigating the script that resulted was top rate. There is a lot to be said for actors who come ready to work; these actors were a perfect fit for O(n) THE 5:31. This was not a “Latino” play; this was a play by a playwright who happens to be Latino. I for one will be watching for his work from now on. My favorite line in the play, is the title line and I won’t say more. You really need to see this play.

Actors: Emily Reas, Bernardo Cubria and Kaylie Hyman;  Photo by Joe Luis Cedillo, Associate Artistic Director and Dramaturge for (O)n THE 5:31.
Actors: Emily Reas, Bernardo Cubria and Kaylie Hyman; Photo by Joe Luis Cedillo, Associate Artistic Director and Dramaturg for (O)n THE 5:31.

(O)n THE 5:31 actors: Elyssa Trevino and Joseph Paz reading stage directions, Emily Reas as Gina, Bernardo Cubria  as Benny, and Kaylie Hyman as Sandra;  Photo by Joe Luis Cedillo, Associate Artistic Director and Dramaturg for (O)n THE 5:31.
(O)n THE 5:31 actors: Elyssa Trevino and Joseph Paz reading stage directions, Emily Reas as Gina, Bernardo Cubria as Benny, and Kaylie Hyman as Sandra; Photo by Joe Luis Cedillo, Associate Artistic Director and Dramaturg for (O)n THE 5:31.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trust or Consequences…

A lack of self-trust brings consequences —  to a writer, the greatest consequence being an inability to create a true authentic work of art…

Recently, Native Voices at the Autry had readings of the four plays that were part of their 2011 Playwrights Retreat and Festival.  I went to all of the play readings, but the one play that stood out to me was Ungipamsuuka (My Story) by Susie Silook.  

Silook, a carver, sculptor, playwright and Alaskan native, showed up at the playwright’s retreat with two acts.  Instead, of rewriting those acts (which was the expected thing to do during the retreat); she wrote a new second act to sandwich between the two acts.  Her process for writing the new acts was so in-the-moment that the actors, director, dramaturge, etc. assigned to her play found they could not follow their business as usual plan for her play or for themselves during the retreat.  Nor could they help but attend to her as she delivered the pages breath by breath.  They had to allow her to birth it, right there in front of them.  Sometimes, to be born, the work spends all of the artist who is creating it, blasting through every fiber of the artist’s being until reaching the air… 

The play is autobiographical; it took us on a journey through Silook’s life – through the tragedies and therapy sessions that have fueled her art over the years.  Silook made the conscious decision to include therapy as part of the play.  She felt that as a culture, Alaskan Natives know tragedies first-hand but don’t always seek counsel.  Silook wanted to cover the road to recovery in a way that would inform and entice the audience to seek healing.  She wanted the play to have an ultimate purpose, a voice all its own.  Silook includes some of her sculptures in the play.  The stark beauty and spirit of her art pieces lift the symbolism of the play to a higher dimension.  Some of the pieces were carved from whale penis bone.  Some of the tragedy deals with rape. 

The play is magnificent and in my eyes, perfect.  While the story is beautiful and ugly at the same time, it triumphs as a story that leads the way to redemption…  I commend Susie Silook for her effort, for refusing to settle for a good play but pushing for a great one.  I commend Native Voices for trusting the artist and allowing Silook’s piece to become on its own terms…  I am excited that one day, I will see Ungipamsuuka (My Story) on stage…   Thank you, Susie Silook, for sharing your art