Movin'!

Your faithful friend shall be moving on in about three weeks (!!) to grad school (for theatre, natch) and in that time must read a giant list of plays. Not much else to say but
(a) HELP!
and
(b) BRING. IT. ON.


Hoping to post about my play-ventures, pronto. It's already started going and shows no signs of slowing (with a tipped hat to Willy Wonka ;-) )

Awesome Theatre Link of the Day!

As an added incentive for me to post, instead of generating some original content, how about a cool link?

Today's Awesome Theatre Link of the Day:


OUT OF THE WINGS
http://www.outofthewings.org/

I was first made aware of this Golden Age Spanish paradise last summer at ATHE, upon making the acquaintance of former dramaturgy deb Kathleen Jeffs of the UK.

Out Of The Wings is not only a one-stop shop for all things dramatic in the Spanish Golden Age; they are also constantly translating plays from the Spanish language in English from every era from then to now. A unique collaboration between Oxford University, King's College London and Queen's College Belfast (but not Ace's College or Jack's College) features an easy-to-navigate interface and the ability to search for plays via author/playwright, title, or translator. Each playwright page has some great biographical info as well as information regarding the playwright's style/themes, lists of translations, and off-site links for more information. The individual play pages feature not only basics about the plays, but info on how/where to obtain rights for performance, staging needs, and plays with similar themes. Feature articles on Hispanic Theatre and info on plays forthcoming to their collection round out a thorough and interesting site you could get lost in for days.

One of my favorite site features is the snippets of translations provided to give you a "sneak peek" of what lies in store, PLUS, for all you actors, a classical monologue that's not Hamlet, Desdemona, or Henry-the-whatever for your next audition. Here's an intriguing sample from Kathleen Jeffs' translation of a 16th century play by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, entitled Numancia, or The Siege of Numancia:

Despite the fact that Numancia will be destroyed through mass suicide, the River Duero predicts that Spain will eventually attain future glory (I. 457-76): 

RIVER DUERO: 

But now that the wheel of fortune
has ordained the ultimate end
of your beloved Numantian people,
and they have come to such an end,
one consolation remains to them now:
that the shadows of oblivion
will never obscure their enlightened deeds
and every age to come will find them extraordinary;
and given that the fierce Roman now extends
his heavy step over your fertile soil,
oppressing you here, offending you there,
with arrogant and ambitious zeal,
the time will come, just as Proteus
came to understand the knowledge
Heaven has given him, so will these Romans learn
they will be subjected by those they now beat down.
I foresee that people from faraway nations
will come and live upon your sweet bosom
after, as is your desire,
they place the yoke on Rome.

Pretty fierce, if I do say so myself.

So what's up with the Daily Dramaturg?

• What are you working on?

As a dramaturg, I recently finished writing some features and facilitating a thoroughly interesting talkback session for The Great American Trailer Park Musical at Spotlighters. Doubt is currently running there until early June, and the talkback's this Sunday at 2 PM, led by yours truly.

• What else are you working on?

In other news, I'm producing a new play, Self, Inc., this summer at the Theatrical Mining Company at the College of Notre Dame. We finally have a great cast assembled and the director is top-notch. Come see it folks.

• What's up for you next?

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles...the Daily Dramaturg is going to graduate school to earn an MA in dramaturgy. That's right; higher education has finally summoned me and I've heard the call.

• What about the blog?

אם אשכחך!  Now that I'll be doing the dramaturg thing full time (and learning and teaching) I'll have more material to work with and more drive to update you with not only adventures in dramaturgy-land but from school, life and career as well! Plus, I've found some totally tubular places on the interwebs to read and learn about theatre, so I'll be sharing them!

“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? 
And if I am only for myself, then what am I?
And if not now, when?”
- The Talmud

Site-Specific Dramaturgy

Earlier this week (on Sunday, to be specific) I attended a dance production entitled “Sensate” performed by the Carrie Ahern Dance Company at Baltimore Theater Project. It was designed to hearken back to the more “free-form” performances of BTP’s early days in the 1970s and 80s, the time when audiences sat on pieces of scaffolding that would be considered horrifically unsafe by today’s industry/theatre safety standards (I know, I’ve seen the photos) and the performances were a bit more off-the-wall than they are today. The whole piece lasted three hours and was a rotation of three one-hour long dance segments occurring simultaneously in the box-office lobby area, the theatre, a platform built over the audience level, and upstairs near the lighting booth. The stairs leading up to the theatre lobby and the lounge space before the wall dividing the lobby in two was termed as “neutral space” and none of the dancers performed here (with one notable exception). I was told that the performance was best enjoyed as viewed from different angles, and if you sat in one seat the whole time, you’d miss ¾ of what was going on.

I didn’t come into the performance expecting a whole lot from what I’d heard, but this performance termed “site-specific,” although having nothing to do with BTP or its history, kind of struck a chord with me from the way it was presented, from the moment it started.

The start of the piece was among the most organic of any I’d seen; I was hanging out in the neutral space talking with people and was told that “one the dancer comes down the stairs and walks through the space, the performance begins.” It was a casual atmosphere, about five audience members present and double or triple that number in performers and staff members of BTP and the dance company, and I had come early to help out and meeting the technicians and dancers, etc. But at that moment – a just about unexpected moment – when the dancer came down the stairs and the music started to vibrate (it wasn’t traditional music, more of a ululation/vocalization from one of the performers that was constantly recorded, replayed, and remixed on a tape loop) it was immediately mesmerizing. The dancer made eye contact with everyone she passed and beckoned us to follow her into the performance space. So we did just that.

The theater itself was pretty dark inside, and with only some tape lines on the floor, a few rows of seats in the audience, an island of seating in the middle, and a small row of chairs near the backstage, it certainly wasn’t impressive in terms of set, but it was simple in a gratifying way. I almost felt like a part of the performance as I wandered around, looking at what was going on around me, occasionally sitting, occasionally standing in one spot, but usually walking around. Obviously, touching the dancers wasn’t allowed, but a couple times the dancers got so close I basically had to move out of the way or become involved in the dance itself. The performances in the theater were bizarre and jarring at times, with dancers writhing either solo or in pairs, but it again was mesmerizing as you saw the organic nature of the movement and even of the silence. The dances looked planned but not all that planned, but you could kind of construct your own storyline from what you saw.

Out in the box office area, some chairs were set up with a neutral space for dancing in the middle, and speakers and lighting created an ethereal quality of sound and shadows on the wall. Usually there was only one dancer in the space at any given time, but it was so compelling that the outside noise was blocked out. At one point, I sat down in one of the chairs to watch. I had no clue how long I was sitting there, but at a few a points, the dancer and I made eye contact, and from her movements, facial expressions, and body positioning, it almost felt like we were engaged in an intimate conversation without words. Perhaps mental telepathy was the order of the day. In either way, I felt connected to the performer, like she was performing for me and no one else and it was just the two of us in the room, although there were probably around ten people.

After a few more rounds around the spaces (including an awkward moment where I held a curtain open for a dancer who walked through the threshold and just kind of stood there under the curtain as I held it open for about four minutes, since I didn’t want to close it and risk a) hitting the dancer with the curtain or b) causing someone else to come through the curtain from behind and walk straight into the dancer’s back) it was 4:00 and though the performance was only about halfway done, I decided to leave for whatever reason. It was kind of sad that only about ten other people showed up in the two hours I was there, in contrast to the five dancers, the vocalist, and around three or four light/sound technicians.

It was certainly an interesting experience, if not unconventional – hard to watch but not unenjoyable. And I want to think that it held a lot of dramaturgical and theatrical truths.

So, in my analysis, the top things that I saw that were important in terms of site-specific performance (and to some level, dramaturgy) were:

1.       A planned yet organic opening. So much about the creation of theater is about the experience, and I applaud those who have the talent of opening the show without it being too conventional or so planned as to be contrived (“everybody sit down, shut up, we’re going to do a show now”)

2.       Interactivity. Most shows don’t encourage the audience to move around during the performance, but being giving that option was refreshing. It also ensured that no two performances could be the same. Any audience member was aware of his/her body placement at all times and how it could affect the proceedings, or when moving around, becoming inherently part of the performance itself.

3.       Attention to performance and emotion. So many dancers and performers are so talented but look so dead inside. Granted, the otherworldly costumes of these dancers were cross between wood-faerie and just-crawled-out-of-the-grave, but they looked anything but dead inside in their performances. Even when their eyes were closed or in a “hangover” look, you could tell they were experiencing something inside their brains and were not robots.

4.       Eye contact. The moment I described earlier with the dancer in the lobby and I having a conversation (that presumably went like this: “Hey.” “Hi, how are you feeling?” “I’m feeling something.” “What is that something, can you tell me? I’m listening.” “Like we’re communicating on some level.” “But do you feel happy? Sad?” “A little sad, but overall okay.” “Let me take your sadness and dance over there a little. Later.”) provided an intimacy in the midst of a very public performance. Maintaining eye contact made it a personal experience for the viewer (me, in this case) and gave it meaning.

5.       The ability to construct one’s own storyline. A definite plus. Yes, in conventional theatre and most dances, the plot, setting, characters, etc. are given to you, but it’s a fun feeling when you get to make your own storyline out of what you see in front of you. Because you’re involved and thinking about it rather than having it thrust or insisted upon you, it feels  warm, essential, like you were meant to be there.

A lot to think about here. I will definitely make note of this next time I see a less-than-conventional performance and in future work.

Talkback Talk-back: A Streetcar Named Desire

Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to lead a talkback after a local production of A Streetcar Named Desire for which I am dramaturg, and it went off highly successfully.

After the show (which I have now seen 3 times and have been thoroughly entertained each time, 2 hour 45 minute length notwithstanding) the producer invited me to hop up onstage with the actors. After allowing patrons to leave, about 25 people stayed for the discussion. This theatre is known for having the most informal talkbacks, being entirely audience-focused and basically asking them to comment on the actors. I wasn't so sure about this, but proceeded anyway.

I started off my introducing the fantastic director and the cast and audience gave her a full minute of applause, causing her to grow red as a beet. Then I introduced myself, welcomed everyone, and proceeded to have the cast go around and introduce themselves with their real names. I responded with a "good job guys" and got a somewhat amused reaction from the cast, "gee, 3 months of memorizing lines and we get a whole round of applause for saying our names." I was talking about your performance, guys, but...whatever. Love you all.

Then, came the immortal moment of "anybody got a question? anyone?" that everyone hates, but somebody's gotta break the ice. After the usual moment of complete silence and an actor saying "I guess we can all go home," I got a question from an audience member. Throughout the talkback, I bounced around the stage (in the round) and into the audience Ricki Lake-style, moderating the questions and repeating them for the cast and the hard of hearing, and calling on someone from the cast to answer if nobody volunteered.

So, yes, the first question. It was something along the lines of "how did you guys deal with interpreting these iconic characters in the shadow of the epic movie version?" The actors playing Blanche, Stella, and Stanley answered appropriately and with pride, and the mood in the room became much more lively and conducive to questioning, and soon many hands were popping up from the crowd. One of the ladies in the audience complimented Stanley's muscular build comparing it to that of Marlon Brando, which got some cheers from the audience.

During some calm moments, I tipped my hat to the director and gave her a chance to talk about her staging concept, which contrasted Blanche's feeling of entrapment with the outer staging areas being full of life, with muggers and vendors and all sorts of action going on that Blanche just can't manage to see or comprehend, just beyond her reach. The audience acknowledged this, which led me to ask the question to the supporting cast about how they felt about being central to the dramatic action without being center stage. This was another great moment because it allowed the cast members with smaller parts (the Mexican Woman, Pedro, the Negro Woman) to get their ideas and feelings out there with just as much credence and importance as Blanche, Stella, and Stanley.

We got a couple really good questions to round out the discussion; first, a man asked if any of the cast members had done a Tennessee Williams play before and what their experience was like this time around, and more than half the cast got to answer that one with a sentence or two, and the director even chimed in as well. The final question was a really great one from a younger girl in the audience, who wanted to know how the actresses playing Blanche and Stella dealt with being sisters, because even though there were some tender moments between the two, sometimes in the play it seemed that they were "complete strangers!" The actresses playing Blanche and Stella were more than happy to answer what that relationship was like both on and off the stage and how sometimes they felt like sisters and sometimes, indeed, like complete strangers, and what their characters' lives must have been like both before and after the events of the play.

Overall, it went off successfully and several of the actors as well as the director and producer told me how well I did as a moderator and how well I kept the conversation going. After the show, I went out with two of the actors and chatted more about the talkback and the questions that were asked. This talkback was my very first as moderator, and it ended up being a very thought-provoking half-hour that really gave audience members, actors, and the dramaturg some good insight into the show and the rehearsal process, and above all showed that we had a room full of inquisitive and active minds, able to ask and answer intelligent questions. And I was able to facilitate that. I can't wait to do it again.

What's coming up next:

Greetings from Colorado, readers.

Coming up next will be a feature on Andorra by Max Frisch.

Stay tuned!

Back with a Vengeance!

So even though December was an abject fail, 2011, I promise, will be a year of dramaturgy fun.

December was a busy month for me, with some local projects in theater (including two in dramaturgy!)

Though I haven't prepared any play reports for this entry, I thought I'd give Aristotle a run for his money and go into depth on some of my views on the first on his concepts on theater - something I will reference a lot in the future - and here's my first entry on character and the types of theatrical characters I find most commonly in plays.

1. Protagonist. The protagonist is defined as the person who drives the action forward. For some, it is the journey he/she undertakes that forms the backbone of the play. Protagonists come in all shapes and sizes, and usually it's someone somewhat tolerable or sympathetic (or intended to be) so the audience has someone to root for and watch something happen to as the play progresses. Sometimes known as the hero, although he/she may not be a hero in the traditional sense or do anything particularly heroic other than drag the audience through the play. Usually the protagonist is a single person.
2. Antagonist. The antagonist is defined as the person who puts obstacles in the way of the protagonist. They are often categorized as being villainous or evil even though they aren't necessarily so. Usually is a single person but can be a group, or a group with one particularly nasty antagonist.
3. Comic Relief. This character is usually present in a drama to provide some levity to the straight man, some additional buffoonery to comedy, or just a little bit of humor. Is rarely antagonist or protagonist, and in a good play, will not distract too much from the focus of the play. Often shows up in pairs.
4. Straight Man. This character (not necessarily a man) is usually po-faced and can range from uber-dramatic to merely a foil for an over-the-top comic relief character. Can be a protagonist as well, or occasionally an antagonist (think supervillain with a dopey sidekick). Is rarely seen without a Comic Relief.
5. Voice Of Reason. In the ancient Greek days, this was known as the deus ex machina, or "god in the machine," someone like Zeus, Hera, or Artemis who came down from the sky in a whirligig, all "I'll save you!" and even sometimes, "Oh, me, here I go again straightening out these mortal idiots." In plays post-Ancient Greece, this can take the form of a Comic Relief (see Idiot Savant), or in a more traditional sense, a wise older man or woman. Usually not a child character - in fact, if a play has a kid voice of reason, she'll usually make you want to punch him in the face.
6. Plot Device. When used with discretion, can make a good play an amazing play. This character is, by the virtue of merely existing, a point of contention that is omnipresent. Usually he/she has some unconventional quirk - a mistress, a child with a disability, a recently-back-from-the-dead husband, even a ghost or a figment of the protagonist's imagination. Sometimes this character is not even seen on stage or not even in the play at all, merely mentioned, making her an Absent Plot Device (APD). Spooky!
7. Narrator. Most plays do fine without one, but the narrator is an essential element of a play for children, such as a fable or a fairy-tale play. Sometimes, the narrator comes in the form of an unobtrusive supporting character like a milkman dropping by every morning, or even as a radio voiceover. Sometimes, a voiceover narrator can be the same character as one in the play, giving updates via diary entries, memoirs from the future, or by telling a story to his grandchildren.
8. Sidekick. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. This sidekick can be a friend, a partner, a sibling - someone who has a closer relationship to the protagonist or antagonist than any other character, and sometimes drops a bombshell by switching allegiances midstream or otherwise making a big move; but can stay relatively neutral throughout the show, being some kind of straight man or constant advisor.
9. Lover. He or she is never the protagonist, but keeps the ol' fire burning throughout the dramatic action. Can be a plot device, or even a sidekick (sometimes even a spurned sidekick), but can provide anything from a casual flirtation to an explicit passion to...a spouse. Yes, I went there. Somewhat of a stock character, but I think is a character-character because oftentimes, romance does affect the way things roll.
10. Idiot Savant. Someone who is a screw-up or someone constantly written off as being dumb, nonessential, or a nonentity. Most of the other characters do not listen to her when they should and can even abuse her, but in truth, she's the smartest chick in the joint. Can be a voice of reason throughout the whole play, or babble until a great moment of clarity near the end..
11. Wild Card. This is a toss-up and has no rules, rhyme, or reason. He can make just a cameo for comic relief, be a plot device, add some mystique or an interesting sidebar, or sometimes oddly enough the forgotten character or "ghost character" as sometimes seen in Shakespeare (not to be confused with an actual ghost), someone who has absolutely no purpose for being there and comes off like an actress who got lost on her way to ladies' lingerie on the 15th floor and ended up in 15th century France. Usually, though, this character is just someone who doesn't really have a strong enough relationship to the protagonist to be a sidekick, not enough antagonizing nature to be an antagonist, isn't particularly funny, romantic, brainy, and doesn't gift us with any moments of great revelation. 
12. The Chorus. Usually a group of people rather than one person and most commonly used for commentary on the action, or, when non-speaking, to act as glorified crew members and move stuff around. The chorus must be used with caution - they are not to be used as an army of stage-fillers or a big unruly mob (that will usually be taken care of by the audience storming out at intermission) - they have rights, people, THEY HAVE RIGHTS!

And now stepping off of that soapbox, behold, 12 possible roles to mix-n-match, and most of them will show up in a play in one form or another.

Good night for now :)

Dramaturgically yours (and yours, and yours)

The Daily Dramaturg