Showing posts with label David Ian Lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Ian Lee. Show all posts
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New World Iliads, Part Two and Three

Tuesday, July 5, 2011 0 comments

(Photo: Anna Lamadrid. Pictured: Jelena Stupljanin, Jason Howard)

New World Iliads was an interesting ForePlay series for Flux. On the one hand, our benefit that kicked off the series was well-attended, and represented a high water mark for quality in the series.

The two that followed were both strong artistically, but due to the overwhelming pressures of producing Ajax in Iraq, we weren't able to bring in large audiences, and that was a shame.

On the plus side, this marked our first ForePlay that featured a cross-discipline collaboration. Our partnership with Carrier Pigeon was really fruitful, and I hope we can build on that for future ForePlays and beyond.

It was also a wonderful opportunity to work with Flux vets we'd been itching to reunite with, like Lynn Kenny and Carissa Cordes; and a chance to develop new relationships with artists we admire, like J. Holtham and Jelena Stupljanin.

Still, how to manage this series at the same level of attention now that our Membership is the smallest it has ever been is a serious challenge, and I expect we'll be relying more on our excellent Friends of Flux moving forward.

What follows are some pics from the event courtesy of the wonderful Anna Lamadrid, and some images from the Carrier Pigeon artists that inspired the playwrights.
(Art by Kristy Caldwell)
June 12th, 2011: Afghanistan
CSV, Flamboyan Theater - 107 Suffolk St
The Plays:
The Labyrinth of Enduring Freedom by Aja Houston
The War Museum by EM Lewis
By the Victors by Isaiah Tanenbaum
NEO by Mac Rogers

Featuring: Carissa Cordes, Ken Glickfeld, Lynn Kenny, Rob Maitner, and Kathleen Wise
Directed by Jordana Williams
(Art by Bruce Waldman)
June 21st: Bosnia
CSV, Flamboyan Theater - 107 Suffolk St
The Plays:
Slobodan Život Šimpanza (The Wild Chimpanzees) by Will Ditterline
All Apologies (or Ana in the White City) by J. Holtham
A Footnote by Brian Pracht
Book of Memory by David Ian Lee

Featuring: Kira Blaskovich, Jason Howard, Joshua Koopman, Anna Lamadrid, Godfrey L. Simmons, Jr., and Jelena Stupljanin
Directed by Heather Cohn

(Photo: Anna Lamadrid. Pictured: Godfrey L. Simmons, Jr., Jason Howard)


(Photo: Anna Lamadrid. Pictured: Jelena Stupljanin)


(Photo: Anna Lamadrid. Pictured: Godfrey L. Simmons, Jr., Jason Howard)

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Flux Sunday, April 10th

Tuesday, April 12, 2011 0 comments


Playwrights: David Ian Lee (The Curing Room)

Actors: Ken Glickfeld, Jane Taylor, Matthew Archambault, Isaiah Tanenbaum, Kari Riely, Brian Pracht.

This was a very different Flux Sunday. One playwright, one play, no directors, two laptops, and an iPad 2 (no trees were harmed in the making of this Flux Sunday). This intimate group had the pleasure of reading David's The Curing Room...in its entirety!

Highlights:
- Jane Lincoln Taylor's beautiful reading of Sukuruk's monologue about his 'tiny wife' Lludmila.
- Silently reading the stage directions of Scene 5 together as a group and finding it hard to...*ahem*...swallow.
- The scene between Kari's Kozlov and Ken's Ehrenberg, a scene of fear, revelation, and, ultimately, sacrifice.
- Having the opportunity to discuss the play after, with specific questions from the playwright.

If you were there, what do you remember (other than haunting images of human flesh & bones)?

Post By Matthew Archambault
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ForePlay: Divine Reckonings - Journeys

Thursday, April 1, 2010 0 comments

So our ForePlay series Divine Reckonings continues this Monday the 5th at the Irondale Center, 85 South Oxford St in Brooklyn, at 7:30PM.

Check out this line-up of ForePlay vets:

Divine Reckonings, Part 2
Monday, April 5th @ 7:30PM
Irondale Center, 85 South Oxford St, Brooklyn
Journeys
Plays by Rob Ackerman, Jeremy Basescu, Bekah Brunstetter, & David Ian Lee
Directed by Angela Astle
Featuring Ryan Andes, Lynn Kenny, Matthew Murumba, Marnie Schulenburg, & Christina Shipp
Journeys will focus on the stories of Abraham & Sarah and Ruth & Naomi
$5 Suggested Donation
Email heather@fluxtheatre.org for reservations

It's easy to get there!
The C train to Lafayette Avenue is just down the block (exit at South Oxford Street, church is halfway up the block on your right). Or take B, D, M, N, Q, R, 2, 3, 4, or 5 train to Atlantic Avenue/Pacific Street, walk north on Hanson place to South Oxford, turn left and the church will be on your right.

If you've never been to Irondale, check this space out!

Learn more about the whole ForePlay series here
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Flux Sunday, December 13th

Monday, December 14, 2009 3 comments

(What is Flux Sunday?)

Playwrights: Throwing Gumballs (Rob Ackerman), Red Horses (Johnna Adams), Going Out Dancing (Katherine Burger), McTeague (James Comtois), Moving Statues (Corey Ann Haydu), Untitled Russian Project (David Ian Lee), Dark Matter (August Schulenburg), The Sleeping World (Crystal Skillman)

Directors: Angela Astle, Rob Ackerman, Katherine Burger, Crystal Skillman

Actors: Ryn Andes, Matthew Archambault, Carissa Cordes, David Crommett, Nancy Franklin, Candice Holdorf, Ingrid Nordstrom, Gretchen Poulos, Jane Taylor, Isaiah Tanenbaum, Richard Watson, Cotton Wright

Sometimes, I plan things out just right...and then there was this Sunday. We went way over time, though for good reason - we had a ton of great material, and actors and directors who wanted to dig deeper.

Highlights included:

-Isaiah Tanenbaum playing Luke Wilson, a Bengali physicist, an elderly shut-in, a miser, and a friendly barkeep all in one day
-Carissa Cordes as a fierce Bright Wing in Johnna's prequel (!) to Angel Eaters
-Ryan Andes' lovably simple McTeague facing down Richard Watson's drunkenly embittered Marcus (the fight scene hilariously directed by Rob Ackerman)
-Katherine's direction of David Ian Lee and Jane Taylor in her Going Out Dancing - I'd previously seen this play at a much faster clip, which put the epiphany in the hands of the audience: here, the more deliberate pace gave Jane's Anna the full opportunity to realize what was happening, and to a degree, accept it
-Working with Cotton on Crystal's The Sleeping World, where complex emotionally rich moments must move quickly - a surprisingly challenging script for a seemingly naturalistic play
-Matt Archambault and Candice Holdorf got to let their hair down a little in Corey's Moving Statues, and the result were two relaxed, highly present, and engaging performances

Artists who attended, what were your highs and lows? Read the full story

 

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Flux Sunday, December 6th

Tuesday, December 8, 2009 4 comments

(What is Flux Sunday?)

Playwrights: Throwing Gumballs (Rob Ackerman), Projects (Erin Browne), Yellow Wallpaper (Katherine Burger), McTeague (James Comtois), Untitled Russian Project (David Ian Lee), Dinkles and Holly (Zack Robidas), Caged (Adam Szymkowicz)

Directors: Angela Astle, Heather Cohn, Nancy Franklin, August Schulenburg

Actors: Matthew Archambault, Jaime Robert Carrillo, Carissa Cordes, David Crommett, Becky Kelly, Ingrid Nordstrom, Gretchen Poulos, Brian Pracht, Jane Taylor, Isaiah Tanenbaum, Drew Valins, Richard Watson, Travis York

We're back! And as you can see from above, we had a full house. Highlights include:

- Zack Robidas' first pages, the Christmas-themed romp Dinkles and Holly (best line: elf-improvment?)
- Travis York's first FS, rocking out the disturbing-funny Man of Adam's Caged and the disturbing-frocked John of Katherine's Yellow Wallpaper.
- Becky Kelly's picnic enthusiasm as Trina in James' McTeague
- James showing the actors how it's done with his hilariously serious turns as Paul and Santa (yup, the Claus)
- Gretchen Polous' third rock star Flux Sunday in a row as the lonely/under pressure Emily in Erin's Projects
- Angela's moody environmental direction of David's Untitled Russian Project, with an all-star cast and lighting cues to boot (I'd pay to see Captain Adam ordering Zack to be funny)
- Rob Ackerman playing himself in Throwing Gumballs. 'Nuff said.

I was also fascinated by the speed of the first scene in Erin's Projects - usually in her work, the pauses are as important as the words, but the rapid pace made for an interesting dynamic. I also had a great time trying Adam's bird scene three different ways with Ingrid Nordstrom - that kind of trial and error is what makes these Sundays so valuable.

Artists who attended, what were your highs and lows? Read the full story

 

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Exploding Moments: Infectious Opportunity

Friday, July 17, 2009 0 comments

In order to move forward this conversation regarding quality, we are putting some of those principles into practice with a new blog series, Exploding Moments. We'll be exploring how quality productions work through the prism of individual moments. By asking the artists involved how they created a particularly successful moment, and examining how it works in production, we hope to find take-aways to apply to our own work. At the same time, we hope to celebrate excellence in the field through this specific, detailed, useful exploration of what works.

What better way to start than with a look at the recently extended production of Infectious Opportunity? I asked actors David Ian Lee (Wes) and Rebecca Comtois (Jenny), and director Pete Boisvert and playwright James Comtois a few questions about a powerful moment that occurs near the end of the play...

SPOILER ALERT: Do not continue reading if you mind spoilers. Go see the extension and then come back!

SYNOPSIS: Wes Farley is a screenwriting student who, through a measure of empathy, manipulation and accident, winds up claiming he is HIV+. The sympathy this lie engenders helps his career profoundly, winning him a cushy teaching job and eventually, an Oscar nomination. As his success grows, it becomes ever more linked to the lie that started it, and the psychic cost of maintaining the lie starts weighing heavily on him.

At a moment when those pressures grow nearly unbearable, Jenny, a student smitten with Wes, waits for him after class. Out of love and respect for Wes, she has also been writing about AIDS, though she is not HIV+. In this moment of feeling powerless, he takes his lie further than ever before, with a scaldingly hypocritical attack on his student for her lack of honesty. As she tries to look away, he slaps her face into attention. That slap, and the scene that preceded it, were some of the most fiercely exciting moments in the play.

The scene:
JENNY. You feeling okay, Wes?
WES. (Half to himself.) No one told me how many times I’d have to field that fucking question every day.
JENNY. Wes…?
WES. Yes, Jenny. What do you need?
JENNY. Well, I’m having a bit of difficulty with this script I’m working on. I think I’ve hit a roadblock. And I was wondering, well…
WES. Well, just bring the pages next week and we’ll see what we’ve got, okay?
JENNY. Okay. But I was wondering…I know this isn’t really how we do it, but if you would be at all willing to read what I’ve got on your own and let me know what you think…unless you need to go back to Los Angeles.
WES. No.
JENNY. Oh. Well. Maybe tonight or tomorrow night. If you’d like to come over and see the pages. I could even cook dinner if—
WES. Why are you writing about something you don’t know anything about?
JENNY. Mr. Farley…?
WES. Do you think this is glamorous? Do you think it’s heroic? One of my best friends from college died from toxoplasmosis. Do you know what that is? You get it from cats. His brain just shut down and when they found his body, he had shit himself. Speaking of shitting oneself, there’s also clostridium difficile, which causes the sufferer to literally shit himself to death. Then there’s the old standard, Kaposi's sarcoma, which gives you those sexy lesions and causes you to incessantly cough up blood. And this isn’t theoretical. It’s not poetic. It’s what I have to look forward to. So please, Jenny, either put that in your work, or stop riding the coattails of my sickness.
JENNY. (Trying hard not to cry.) …okay…
WES. (Pause. Takes a deep breath.) I’ll see you next week, Jenny.

What made this sequence so powerful? For answers, the artists:

1. James, what was your process of writing this scene? Was it part of early drafts, or did it come later? Did it pop out perfectly the first time, or was it part of rewrites?
James: Actually, this scene was added later during revisions. In the original draft, Wes was a little more passive and kind of just "going along with the ride," with his original lie. A few people who read it felt I was being too soft and pulling my punches, and they were right. So, when I rewrote it, I added a few parts where Wes was much more active in exploiting opportunities that came up from people thinking he was sick. Two scenes/exchanges I added during the revision process was the scene where he tells his mentor, Professor Franklin, that if he accepts the teaching position at the university, he'll need a salary bump to pay for the cost of medicine, and the scene where he chews out his student, Jenny, for "riding the coat-tails of his sickness."

2. Pete, David and Rebecca, please describe the process of rehearsing the scene. Was the slap a suprise?
Pete: The exchange between Jenny and Wes at the end of the final classroom scene is one my favorite sequences in Infectious Opportunity. We built it in rehearsal through a combination of improvisation and a close analysis of James’ script; of course, isn’t that always how you find the really good stuff?

The scene comes at the crux of the play, as the lie Wes has been living finally begins to slip out of his control. The direct catalyst for Wes’ breakdown is the phone call he receives from his agent, Brent (Daryl Lathon), informing him that he’s been nominated for an Academy Award. Towards the end of the phone call with Brent, Wes lets his mask slip for a second, grousing that Brent is building his success off of Wes’ (faked) illness. He lets a bit of the sarcastic demeanor he has been using in his exchanges with Josie (Andrea Marie Smith, playing the embodiment of Wes’ conscience that has been harassing him throughout the play) bleed into his phone call with Brent. Brent immediately senses a change in Wes and apologetically retreats, leaving Wes in horror at the gaffe he has made.

Two more slips of the mask occur in rapid succession as Professor Franklin overhears him calling out for Josie as she initially abandons him, and again as his internal monologue turns external when he complains about the aggravation of having to field questions about his health in front of Jenny. The façade that he has smoothly perfected over the years is rapidly falling apart under the increased pressure he feels as a result of the nomination.

The “Oleanna” moment (as we jokingly referred to it in rehearsal) is a twisted mirror of the first classroom scene near the top of the play. Wes is flattered by Jenny’s infatuation with him, but is always a bit uneasy at the similarities between her attempt to fictionalize her relationship with Wes and his own fraudulency. The crime he accuses Jenny of (leveraging a false experience of illness to further her writing career) is, of course, the precise sin that Wes has built his entire career and identity on. Where he initially tries to dissuade her gently from her topic, his reaction in the final classroom scene takes on a dark and violent tone as he desperately tries to reassert his ownership of the lie.

The moment of the slap was not something I had come up with prior to rehearsal. I wanted Wes to put a full court press on Jenny, intimidating her away from her subject matter as a way of protecting his own territory. The steady, inexorable cross to drive a point home is one of my favorite staging techniques, which you can find examples of in many of the Nosedive shows over the years.

Rebecca: Reading the play, this was the scene that drew me to the play, and made me go up for the role of Jenny. I do think this is Wes’ cruelest moment in the play, to answer another one of your questions, because to some extent he is aware of how he is ruining this girl. While his world is beginning to spiral out of his control, he attempts to reassert his dominance and control, and who better to do that with than Jenny. Jenny who he knows won’t put up a fight. But Jenny has her own story playing out. She has misinterpreted an earlier warning shot as approval. In the earlier classroom scene Wes tries to steer her away from, “the whole AIDS angle” in her writing, but he is soft with her, and she reads that as approval, and respect for her as a writer. She then gets to go off for a week (unseen) and fantasize about what step she will take next. She writes a few more pages, presumably involving a love scene between the high school teacher living with AIDS, and the sexy yet dedicated young grad student who has been observing his class for credit to get her teaching license. So she returns to class, her plan being to invite him over for dinner, to read the pages with the hope being that the power of her writing will make him fall head over heals in love with her. His admiration igniting a deep seeded lust for his protégé. Trashy dime store romance novels got nothin’ on this girl. So Jenny has had a week to fantasize about this, to play out every conversation in her head and, she believes, every possible outcome. She is, of course, wrong.

Going into rehearsal I had all of my book work done, all of my intentions mapped out and then, like Jenny, the scene just didn’t seem to cooperate with the vision of it I had in my head. I wasn’t anticipating the unabashed vitriol that was turned her/my way. Like in the scene itself, Wes’ attack started smaller, more constrained in the beginning and then is only fully unleashed as the attack continues. It was the same in rehearsals. It was several passes at the scene before we arrived at the tenor that you see in performance. I think it wasn’t until we got into runs that the scene really hit its stride, and David could use the momentum of the whole play to really rip into Jenny with the ferocity that he does in performance. But being under fire such as she is from this man she admires, if not adores, it’s hard not to see disengagement as her only option.

David: This scene was one of several which I auditioned with, and I had the privilege of reading opposite Rebecca. Most of the beats that made their way into the final production seemed to arrive organically in that first cold read, and under Pete’s direction the scene and monologue took a more refined shape. I remember Pete wanting the monologue to have a slow burn. He had a specific image for the beginning of the speech – hunched over the desk, eyes forward – and wanted me to restrain much of the furor and vitriol that I initially leaned into.

As I remember, it was in one of our final runs before tech that I spontaneously grabbed Becky’s chin and chucked it up: I (as Wes) was pissed that she (as Jenny) had lower her eyes and escaped me -- I was offering her the courtesy of not blowing my top, but she couldn’t offer me the respect of looking into my eyes. I chucked her chin up…and I (as Wes) immediately felt the shame in what I had done, felt surprise and regret, and was touched by the fear and pain I saw in Becky’s eyes.

There’s a quote by Jack Nicholson that I think is very helpful for actors in rehearsal: “If you get an impulse in a scene, no matter how wrong it seems, follow the impulse. It might be something and if it ain't: Take two!” In that moment I wasn’t thinking about the legitimacy of chucking Becky, I just knew it was the psychological “heart” of what I wanted to do, even if that impulse would ultimately be expressed in some other fashion.

After that rehearsal, I remember checking in with Becky, making sure she was physically okay and that I’d not crossed any lines by throwing some improvised physical biz into the run. Becky was gung-ho.

Still, I was uncertain about the chin-chuck (which morphed into the slap) because it is such an impermissible act for a teacher. I checked in with Pete, asking if he was sure we could go there: Wes has got to know, immediately after touching Jenny, that he could find himself in trouble with the regents, the University, the tenure review board…Hitting students is a big no-no. And Pete said, “That’s how far Wes has gone. And that’s how complete his lie is: Jenny’s not going to tell anyone. She’s not going to take on The System and The Superstar.”

Rebecca: Thank god for David coming up with the chin grab that turned into the chin slap. Every time it’s startling. It takes me out of my head, and then the autonomic responses can begin to work. That tightness in the sternum, the lump in the throat, and then it’s not about the book work, or what Jenny had planned, or really anything going on in the play- for me- and this is going to sound strange I’m sure- It becomes being 9 years old girl in a play house playing “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” with my friend Derek. Except after satisfying my part of the arrangement- Derek in turn promptly left to go tell on me. So... yeah that’s a little weird, but that’s the scene that just pops into my head whenever we get to that part of the play. It wasn’t something I had planned on, but I guess for me it’s just about the pure shame and embarrassment of rejection mixed with fear at having perceived to have done something wrong. I think Jenny leaves that scene feeling as though she’s the one that’s crossed over the line. That everything Wes has said about her is true, and that she is a terrible person, “riding the coattails of his sickness.” And that’s not something I saw when I read the play, but something I feel when we perform it.

3. James, Pete, and David, how much of that scene is Wes transferring his self-loathing onto her, and how much is him being so used to the part, he actually believes what he's saying?
James: Wow. Good question. Although it's a little bit of both, I think it's more of the latter, though personally, I don't think it's so much that he believes what he's saying so much is that at this stage of the game he has absolutely no qualms whatsoever about exploiting his fake illness. My line of thinking while writing it was to show that he's so comfortable with the lie that, at that moment, he doesn't have the slightest sense of guilt about posing as a person with HIV. He's lashing out at her because he's feeling smothered and trapped, but doesn't believe for a second that his feelings of being trapped is in any way his own fault. So I guess it's not so much that he believes what he's saying as he feels a thoroughly unearned sense of entitlement.

David: Wow. That’s a tricky one… As an actor, I tend to think I’ve little to no control over what an audience’s individual thoughts about a character may be, or what they perceive of a character via projection of their own experiences and feelings. But here’s how I (as Wes – how annoying are these codifying parentheticals?) often view the scene (I say often, because performances should be living things in flux): Jenny keeps hitting on me. I’m already frustrated and pissed off and feeling trapped, but now I’ve got this chick crossing the line, not taking the hint, and making me quite uncomfortable. Also, I’ve not been laid in ten years: There’s always THAT. The monologue is honest for Wes, as he touches on the very real pain and horror at having lost dear friends and loved ones to the disease. He talks with conviction about the horrors of Toxoplasmosis and KS because he saw what it did to two people he loved, and so he takes it very seriously; Wes, I believe, actually has a great empathy for people with HIV and AIDS, and takes genuine offense to Jenny’s ill-conceived story. From there, it’s just a little white lie, a tiny nudge, to add in the “Oh yeah: And I have HIV, too,” element.

4. For all: do you think this scene is the cruelest Wes ever gets in the play?
James: The way it's staged? Yes. For me, when I was writing it, I think Wes was at his cruelest when (minor spoiler alert) he emotionally strings along a very lonely and vulnerable young woman with AIDS. Though to be fair, he isn't trying to be cruel in that scene.
David: I think slapping Jenny is certainly unacceptable. But, as with all of Wes’ behavior, I don’t think it ever stems from cruelty. Don’t get me wrong: Wes commits amoral, unforgivable acts over the course of Infectious Opportunity, and he’s not a guy any of us would want in our corner. But…I don’t think he’s cruel. It’s that old cliché: If you’re gonna play Iago, you can’t view him as the villain. I don’t think of Wes as a cruel character… He’s a guy who wants to be loved, who keeps trying to do the right thing, and just doesn’t get what a fuck he is; he knows he’s a fuck, and a big one at that, but cannot perceive the abysmal depths of his fuckdom.

5. For all: how do you think this scene changes Wes' relationship to the audience?
James: I think, as I said before, this is the scene where the audience sees that Wes feels entitled, sees himself as a victim, and is completely without any scruples about what he's doing. It definitely shows him at his most contemptible.

Pete: The slap is the first of three physically aggressive contacts Wes makes in the last 10 pages of the play. It’s followed shortly by the blown kiss he smacks off of Josie’s forehead as he finally cuts all ties with her, and again after his final monologue to Brent as he plants a wet kiss Bugs Bunny-style off of the top of Brent’s head immediately following the final reversal of the play. These moments of physical contact serve as a rhythmic punctuation to three of the most intense moments of the play, and show Wes stepping fully over the line of acceptable behavior.

As Josie is in essence another facet of his mind, and Brent is either left in the dark as to the true meaning of Wes’ rant, or alternately becomes complicit in Wes’ retreat from the truth (depending on your interpretation) they don’t have the same brutal effect on the audience as the Jenny slap. That is the moment where Wes fully crosses the line, and a reasonable audience can no longer sympathize with him, no matter how charismatically he comes across.

David: When I read the play, I saw it as a coal-black comedy, and I initially approached the material with a much broader brush. Pete slowly pulled me back, and got me to trust Wes and to play it straight. That makes for a fun ride for me, and a very odd show: I don’t know how people take to this guy. I think that what the moment of Wes slapping Jenny achieves, however, is it shows an audience that the rules are no longer on the table for Wes: This is a guy who can do anything, who is unpredictable and a maybe even dangerous. As an actor, that’s a gift.

The Take-Aways
The intent of listing take-aways is to establish a language of aesthetic best practices that can be used as tools or catalysts for future choices
1. Logical extremes: Rewrites should explore pushing initial choices to logical extremes; staging should see how far the text can be pushed into action
2. Slips of the mask: Foreshadow major moments of character revelation through preceding "slips of the mask"
3. Funhouse mirror: Inverting previous scenes with their negative/opposite gives both additional power
4. Ambiguity's wake: The path of a boat through water is completely clear; it is the the wake that ripples in many directions. Ambiguity in action confuses; ambiguity in meaning satisfies.
5. Inexorable cross: Staging text that has a strong action by having the speaker cross slowly towards the subject heightens tension and the text's power
6. Popping the kernel: Don't rush to the emotional climax of a moment or scene. Restrain the action/emotion until the heat of the slow burn makes the pop of violence inevitable.
7. Guillotine: A strong physical moment can knock actors out of their heads and shock both audience and actor into immediate, authentic response.
8. Cruel only to be kind: In the cruelest action, identify the kindest impulse. The friction between intention and action gives the moment heat.
9. Game changer: Never let a scene or play continue for long without rewriting the rules of what is possible/acceptable/expected. These game changers must come out of the genuine needs of the characters or the audience will feel manipulated.

If you saw Infectious Opportunity, what other moments did you find effective?
If you didn't, was this post specific enough to be useful anyway?
What do you think of the take-aways, and how can we make Exploding Moments more useful?
Is there a show you've seen recently that has a moment worth exploding?
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Flux Sunday, July 12th

Thursday, July 9, 2009 0 comments

What is Flux Sunday?

So much to catch up on! Have Another last night (it went well), a shout out for Infectious Opportunity (go see the extension), an update on the quality discussion and more NET unpacking. But for now, a quick update on our last Flux Sunday!

BACK ON OUR FEET, BUT WOOZY
Thanks to Tiffany, we were back on our feet staging things. While everyone likes the ol' read around the table, there's a special alchemy when the right director and rights actors play for an hour and something alive breaks through. The flip side (or in honor of Bird House, the Lop Side) is things get messy, and that was definitely the case last Sunday, as we ran nearly half an hour over!
But good work was accomplished. We read more from Johnna Adams' Lickpittles, Buttonholores and Damned Pernicious Go-Betweens and David Ian lee's In The Year Of Nothing, or So Goes The Nation; both big cast beasts, one the rhyming hexameter play featured at last night's Have Another, and the other a gritty cinematic look (or so I think early on) at the trickle down of corruption.

HONEY ON THE HANDS
I then staged two new scenes from an old play of mine, Honey Fist. Finally finished after a year's hiatus, Ingrid Nordstrom and Candice Holdorf took turns as Gretyl Barnes, the kidnapped pop star maniuplating her hijackers in all sorts of surprising ways. My favorite part was Aaron Micheal Zook's portrayal of Sul - first time through, he played up what appears on the page like sarcasm, but in the run he played it sweet and sincere - and it landed just as I'd hoped.

PAINT ON THE FINGERS
Next up was Zack Calhoon's Paint, featuring the recently divorced couple Sarah and Ray trying to work through Ray's violence against her son, David. As Ray and Sarah, David Ian lee and Karen Sternberg (first timer!) really found both the attraction and ugliness in this relationship, and it was off set beautifully in the youthful rush of David (Brian Pracht) and his girlfriend's (Caitlian Kinsella) post coital laughter. The legacy of violence raises its head in this scene, as well, and the question of both couple's survival hangs in the air.

GREEN IN THE EYES
Then we returned to Mary Fengar Gael's Opaline, another play featured at last night's Have Another. And much like last night, this scene was playing like gangbusters. A line about a damned horse doctor stopped the scene as the room rocked with laughter, and Johnna's sudden seduction of Matthew Archambualt's Hargraves was a delight. More of this play, please!

BLOOD ON THE TRACKS
We ended with the first scene from a new play by Aaron Michael Zook, whose We Are Burning was another Have Another. This scene, Graves and Worms and Epitaphs, started silly, turned a notch of darkness when Jane Taylor as Liz exploded against her ex-husband's door, and then turned very dark indeed as Mariam Habib as Josh told just how that ex-husband became a shut-in. A lovely way to end the day with a red sun setting of sorts.

We're back on our feet again, energized from this last Have Another...but more on that anon. Read the full story

 

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Matthew Freeman's Interview of James Comtois

Saturday, May 30, 2009 0 comments

A great interview regarding audience empathy, protagonist morality, and James Comtois' upcoming production of Infectious Opportunity, featuring frequent Flux Sunday collaborator David Ian Lee and sound design by Patrick Shearer at the Brick's Antidepressant Festival.

Listen to it, and then get your tickets here! Read the full story

 

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Poetic Larceny Artists Reveal #21 -- David Ian Lee

Saturday, April 18, 2009 0 comments


What is Poetic Larceny?

And how can I learn more about Flux's upcoming production of Pretty Theft?

DAVID IAN LEE


Playwright, May 4th


Previous Flux stuff: David appeared as an actor in our Imagination Compact, and as a playwright has workshopped Sleeper, Dog Show, and Long Sought, More Perfect at Flux Sundays.


We asked the amazing artists of our upcoming staged reading series Poetic Larceny to answer some questions about stealing, beauty, and consequences. Read on for their answers!


Question #1: What is the worst thing you've ever stolen?

One of two gold rings belonging to my grandfather, which I promptly lost. When I broke down, sobbing, and told him what I’d done, he said, “David, I’m ashamed that you’ve stolen, but I can tell you’ve had this on your chest for a while, and it takes a big man to admit his mistakes. And for that, I am proud of you.” And then he gave me his other ring.


Question #2: What is the worst thing that's been stolen from you?

The 2000 Presidential Election.


Question #3: What do you find pretty?

Rain. Starlight. Dancers.


Question #4: What do you find beautiful?

Whispers.


Question #5: If you could steal something beautiful without consequences, what would it be?

Time. Infinite, infinite time.


Bio: David proudly originated the role of Karel Capek in the 2007 world premiere of Mac Roger's Universal Robots. In New York: Ronan Noone's award-winning The Lepers of Baile Baiste, Nat Cassidy's The Reckoning of Kit & Little Boots, Jon Kravetz's Prayer (Fringe 2008). Regional: Actors Theatre of Louisville, Utah Shakespeare, Sedona Shakespeare, Milwaukee Rep, Tennessee Rep, Arizona Rep, Arizona Theatre Company, Seven Angels, Los Angeles' Haugh Performing Arts Center. Film / TV: "As The World Turns," "One Life To Live," "Crutch", "Save the Forest". As Playwright: Sleeper (Published NYTR 2009), The Dog Show, Pinecone, The Latchkey Pool, Liberty & Joe DiMaggio, Long Sought; More Perfect (in development for 2009).

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Flux Sunday, January 11th

Saturday, January 24, 2009 0 comments

ALL CYLINDERS CLICKING

Every once in a while, Flux Sundays will have a lightening strike day. All the scripts are tight, the actors connect with the roles, and each scene passes some essential undroppable thing to the next. It doesn't happen often, but boy did it happen on January 11th, and with all of us seated, no less.

VOLLEYING
Rob Ackerman brought in more of his kinetic comedy, Volleygirls. It's always good to start the Sundays with this play, because the energy and shared laughter brings the whole group together and gets us breathing in rhythm. Matt Acrhambault continued his duel with Jason Pardine for the laurels of the role Coach, and Drew Valins returned after a long break with his passionate Russian referee.

STEPPING
We next read the first few scenes of a new play of mine, Stepping; a welcome diversion from me finishing the 60's play! Following a brother and sister with unusual powers stepping through alternate Harlems, I enjoyed especially Ken Glickfeld's Druncle and Gretchen Poulos' scrappy Saffire, the bewildered best friend trying to keep up with her new blood sister Bahiya. With 60's done, I hope to bring more of this play to our Sundays, as it is eager to be written.

LICKSPITTING
Johnna Adam's epic hexameter farce about a professional lickspittle, buttonholer and go between exiled to the Napoleonic court picked up some heat as their French female counterparts, a not so Simple French Boy, and Napoleon himself battle for supremacy of state and end rhyme. Highlights included our once Oberon Michael Davis crossing gender to play a very different Eglantine, Becky Kelly as the subversive haiku spouting French boy, and Brian Pracht's continued perfection as Peder Pars the Lickspittle.

WILLING
The zanies of Jeremy Basescu's The Will continued their power struggle for inheritance of an eccentric tycoon's fortune as Jane Taylor's Eleanor nearly seduced David Ian Lee's Richard into breaking his lawerly judgement. As always, Aaron Michael Zook's Victor was a hapless triumph. I won't soon forget watching him, even before his character entered, watching the action as Victor, with the hopeful simpleness that makes this character so much fun.

BOATING
We had more Rob Ackerman as he brought in an older plays of his, Loon Island Picnic. A family has returned to their unchanging summer haunt only to find they've changed more than they'd like to admit. Nancy Franklin's defiance against time as Phylis played beautifully off Richard Watson's cantankerous honesty; and Katie Hartke's Marcy was perhaps pleasantly suprised by some unusual admissions from her tongue tied cousin Ben.

SLAPPING
The gentle regret of Loon Island Picnic became a violent defense of older values in David Ian Lee's Long Sought, More Perfect. David Crommett's Rodney tried to reason some values of the 60's into Christina Shipp's mockingly post-PC Heather; as a battle for social right masked a deeper battle for inheritance. An almost unwitting act of violence sears the end of this scene, and send another battle for a will into high gear.

Six very different plays caught fire in one of our hotter Sundays in some time. Read the full story

 

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Sleeper

Wednesday, July 23, 2008 1 comments

(The Khyber Pass, between Afghanistan and Pakistan)
Small Pond Entertainment Presents
SLEEPER
by David Ian Lee
directed by Nat Cassidy
“A war is coming, but not the one we expect.”
Featuring: Micah Chartrand, David Dartley*, Emily Hagburg, Jason Griffith*, David Ian Lee*, L. Jay Meyer*, Karen Sternberg*, Craig Lee Thomas* & Kristen Vaughan*
Limited Engagement at the Manhattan Theatre Source
July 20 - 22
August 3 - 5
8 pm
Tickets: $15
Reservations: 212-501-4751 or advance purchase at https://www.ovationtix.com/trs/pr/60282

(Spoiler alert if you read below! Spoiler alert if you read below!)

"Thank you, Katie."
Those words are the surprisingly subtle climax in a production of far larger and louder moments. While they may not be the climax of the play as written, as heartbreakingly uttered by Karen Sternberg's in her luminescent portrayal of Teri Guffin, they are the human center of this production. Under Nat Cassidy's direction in the tiny Manhattan Theatre Source space, David Ian Lee's sprawling epic political thriller Sleeper compresses around Sternberg's performance to become a play about the ownership of loss.

Teri knows loss: she has lost her romantic relationship with Al (Craig Lee Thomas), a man far more capable of intimacy than her husband Bobby (David Ian Lee); she and Bobby have lost their daughter Katie to a truly horrific illness; and over the course of the first act, she will lose Bobby to the lure of a life of meaning, building roads in Afghanistan. When Bobby is kidnapped by Kadir (Micah Chartrand), a Pashtun determined to repel the imperialist do-gooders, it appears that Teri may have lost him completely.

In the second act, she uses the fame brought her by Bobby's capture to become the leader of a progressive political movement. This brings Teri into direct conflict with Rachel (Kristen Vaughan), a right wing talk show host who capitalizes on the War on Terror to become a mega-star. It was Rachel who broke the news of Bobby's capture, and she has passionately fixated on the truth of his uncertain whereabouts on her program, The American Agenda. The center of Act 2 is the scene where Teri goes on the Agenda to challenge Rachel's politics, only to have Rachel shock her with the truth of Bobby's whereabouts. The two woman fight for ownership of Bobby's loss, and Rachel seems to win.

That's when the page who has been running the interview shows clear sympathy for the heartbroken Teri, and Teri asks her name in gratitude. In that moment, feeling the loss of her husband, which reminds her of the loss of her daughter, Teri shows her true character by reaching out to thank this stranger who works for her enemy. When the page says her name is Katie, something about that coincidence, that little karmic gift in that moment of incredible need, makes Sternberg's reply, "Thank you, Katie", feel like the realization that Rachel can NEVER own Bobby's loss; that is only hers, Katie's loss is now only hers, and for the first time in the play, she is grateful for it.

Teri's journey into an ownership of loss echoes out to Mahid, an unwilling ally of Kadir, who doesn't want the US to own the death of his father (an architect in Afghanistan who became a janitor working at the Twin Towers); and it echoes out to Rachel, who uses the deaths "of the 3,000", (as she calls the victims of 9/11) to wage an impossibly righteous and incredibly lucrative war on the Left. Katie's death, the central loss in this play of loss, is given to Mahid by Bobby, and he repays that gift by denying a terrible man ownership of Bobby's death; and it is given to Rachel by Teri in the final scene of the play, where at last Rachel is called to account for making politics of the most intimately personal.

When Flux developed Sleeper at Flux Sunday, I was struck by the overwhelming power of Rachel within the play. She is by far the wittiest, smartest and most vital character in Sleeper; as Bobby is drugging himself and Teri is sputtering forth Leftist platitudes, Rachel omnivorously devours every good thing in sight with the righteous pleasure of one of God's chosen. At Flux Sundays, this role was indelibly stamped in my mind by Jane Taylor, who twirled malevolently through Rachel's verbal and moral twists with voracious delight and humanity. Though we had many excellent Teri's read the role, Jane's Rachel seemed the black hole center of the play; making its climax the moment where Rachel watched the mysterious video tape revealing the truth about the Guffins.

But in this production, all the great reckonings of the play happen in such a little room that the more subtle journey of Teri takes over; and Cassidy and Sternberg have found a vitality, though wounded and uncertain, to rival Rachel's. In a seemingly throw away 1st act scene with Al, Teri defines herself as someone bad at grief and so ill-suited for life; by the end of the play, she owns and belongs to both. I hope readers of this blog will make the trek to see her journey in David's thorny and heartfelt play, and I hope this play will see further production. There are very few plays that can take the impossible contradictions of politics and transmute them into the simple loss of a daughter, of a father, of a lover. Sleeper not only viscerally gives us that loss, but finds the difficult way to move from it back into life.
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Flux Sunday, July 13th

Monday, July 21, 2008 0 comments

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SO MANY CONS, SO FEW SUNDAYS
Our second Flux Sunday back from Midsummer had the heart of a con man. Cons of the dishonest kind were being played in me tentatively titled new play, Denny and Lila, and of the probably dishonest kind in David Ian Lee's Dog Show, and of the most earnest kind in Johnna Adam's Oneida, Servants of Motion.

HEY, DENNY. HI, LILA.
Needing a break from wrestling with the thorny angels and slippery devils of Other Bodies, I wrote the first scene of a con play. Got to love a con play - everyone needs something and they're usually doing something interesting to get it. But of course, my damn head is already twisting it into some darker thing about love and lust and knowing how to trust those things - but for now, it was just about three people conning a woman too smart to see how she's being taken. This was especially exciting as it marked the Flux Sunday directorial debut of Amy Fitts, and she got vibrant performances from Ingrid Nordstrom as Mary and Elise Link as Jabber.
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the benefits of communal marriage for less than desirable men. The fake pamphlet she created easily belongs in the Flux Sunday hall of fame, right next to Johnna's lovingly designed snake-cages-on-pages. Ah, Hot Biblical Love! Read the full story

 

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Flux Sunday, July 6th

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THE HAPPY RETURN OF FLUX SUNDAYS!
Well, after a long break courtesy of our production of Midsummer, Flux returned to our weekly workshop process, Flux Sundays. And it was good to be back! For those of us who worked on Midsummer directly, it was the perfect cure for the post play blues. And for those who didn't, it was good to jump back into our three hour fix. Autumn Horne brought her photographer friend,
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THE SELVES OF THESE KIND ARE BUT WALDOS
"Were you ever instructed by a wise and eloquent man? Remember then, were not the words that made your blood run cold, that brought the blood to your cheeks, that made you tremble or delighted you,—did they not sound to you as old as yourself? Was it not truth that you knew before, or do you ever expect to be moved from the pulpit or from man by anything but plain truth. Never. It is God in you that responds to God without, or affirms his own words trembling on the lips of another."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
But Rob didn't just direct this Sunday...he also brought the first scene of a VERY exciting new play about a descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson who may or may not be possessed by his famous ancestor. Call Me Waldo features some working class guys rattled when one of their own suddenly starts uttering Ralph's raptures. Lee, played by Isaiah Tanenbaum in one of his finest Flux performances, only wants to keep his life together, and wants none of the attention his wife (Gretchen Poulos) and co-worker Gus (David Douglas Smith) start pouring on him. This was a really exciting first scene (well directed by Brian Pracht) funny and heartfelt, and we are all excited to see what comes next.

THE FITTS OF THIS DAVID ARE BUT CANDICE
(OK, I'm running out of steam with these headers). We then looked at my now favorite scene from Johnna Adam's Oneida, Servants of Motion. Oneida is set in an historical utopian community run by the charismatic founder John Humphrey Noyes. Noyes' creates a communistic heaven on earth, where every resource is shared and a complex marriage is practiced. Men and women take partners as they choose (often prompted by Noyes' eugenics), with the men practicing a male continence taught to them as pubescent boys by woman past child-bearing age. But wait, don't move to this paradise just yet! This scene picks up as Tirzah, denied her love for music and Edward because favoritism doesn't belong in Heaven, is playing the piano on the body of her uncle/lover Noyes in her sleep. Pregnant with a child she is determined to name Haydn after the music she and Edward were playing when they fell too much in love, Noyes realizes he must show Tirzah the harsh truth of her now exiled lover Edward if her heart will ever belong to the community again. Anne, the head of the Criticism community and the only non-direct relative of Noyes to rise to power, produces a series of letters from Edward in the outside world where he denounces his love for Tirzah and their child. David played Noyes, Candice Holdorf a gentle and unsettling Anne, and Amy Fitts a haunted but still passionate Tirzah in this lovely scene.

THE BEST OF THE BODIES ARE BUT OTHERS
We ended with a rewrite from our Fringe play, Other Bodies, with Heather Cohn getting white knuckle performances from Aaron as Terry and Jane as Time.

It was good, very good, to be back.
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Imagination Compact Artists Reveal #22--David Ian Lee

Wednesday, May 7, 2008 0 comments

What is The Imagination Compact?
And how can I learn more about Flux's Midsummer?

David Ian Lee

Actor, The Lovers, May 12th

Flux History: Flux Sunday regular as actor, director and playwright; plays developed include Sleeper and Dog Show

1. What is your favorite Shakespeare play?
Tough call. Possibly Two Gentlemen of Verona, though Hamlet will laways hold a special place in my heart.

2. What is your favorite line of text?
Top three (I'm bad at choosing)

HAMLET: There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

CHIRON: Thou hast undone our mother.
AARON: Villain, I have done thy mother.

JAQUES: I can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs.

3. Does Shakespeare influence your writing at all?
No doubt unconsciously: His work is profuse and masterful, and if you take into account his ghost-edit of the King James Bible, Shakespeare's writing has likely had more influence on Western literary culture than any wordsmith imaginable. And, come to think of it, the play I'm working on is a revenge-thriller in the Five Act model, so...

4. if you had to date one of the Midsummer lovers,
whom would you date and why?
Titania. 'Cause.

5. What is the first thing you think of when you hear the word 'Flux'?
Good times.

6. Fairies: Colorful playmates or dangerous tricksters?
How about dangerous playmates? Ain't that the best kind?

7. Complete this sentence: "It's too late to go back now,
I'll just have to do without my _____"
Pants.

8. If a capricious fairy turned you into an animal against your will,
what animal you be and why?
Hmmm...well if its against my will, I suppose it'd have to be something
that I really have no interest in being...mollusks seem to have a tough life.
Nope, don't want that. So...I'm going with mollusk.

9. Would you rather have a beer with Richard Burbage or William Kemp?
Kemp, though amusing, would no doubt start to be a pain in the arse after a while.

10. If we could compact your imagination, what color would it be, and why?
Not sure of the color, but I'm sure it would be sticky.
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Flux Sunday, Apil 13th

Saturday, April 19, 2008 0 comments

ALL THE LITTLE BREAK THROUGHS
While much of the dialogue in the theatrosphere justly involves revolutionary change, it is often little incremental break throughs that give me the most pleasure. Flux Sunday regularly reveals such break throughs - the right actor, the right director, the right role - and some new unconsidered possibility opens up. The picture here is Brian Pracht from our 2007 retreat at Little Pond, working on his play The Misogynist. And at this last Flux Sunday, he gave a performance in Dog Show that revealed possibilities new to me - of Brian as a performer, of David Ian Lee as a writer, Jeremy Basescu as a director, and of that strange pride we sometimes have in our biggest mistakes.

CALLING CQ:
We began with Jeremy's new comedy, Calling CQ, about a President who is obsessed, perhaps justifiably, with an imminent Martian invasion. Highlights of this round table reading included Richard Watson's right wing reporter Storm and Jane Taylor's no nonsense paper editor Ruth.

BIRD HOUSE:
We then had the pleasure of returning to Kate Marks antic comedy Bird House. One thing we have learned about this wildly inventive play - if you think too much about it, the play sags; but if you just live absolutely in each individual moment, the audience will follow you down the strangest journeys. Returning to the play was reigning Bird House champion Nancy Franklin as Rita, with a comically committed performance by Felicia Hudson as the militant Myra. The best line reading of the day, however, belonged to Katherine Burger's "breakfast is so cruel and I never want to have it again".

DOG SHOW:
We continued through the second half of the second scene of Dog Show, where husband and wife team Candice and Frank are seducing, encouraging and/or destroying Frank's high school buddy, Edward. This scene featured the aforementioned Brian's reveal that he may have raped a girl in college; and the nuances of disgust, denial, power and pride ran beautifully through his subtle performance.

DEAR CHINA:
As a welcome appetizer to the upcoming Imagination Compact, Joe Mathers staged Rob Ackerman's riff on Quince, Dear China. This hilarious and tender portrayal of 3 techies building a window display for a hardware store is lit up by the characters' shared love of stories; and Ken Glickfeld found the touching human heart as Quince, a playwright who gets a little embarrassed by how much he loves writing plays.

TEXAS TOAST:
Andrew and Claire's marriage has been falling under increasing distress due to dislocation, childlessness, but above all, Andrew's indiscretion with a prostitute in Thailand. The secret of that indiscretion is gleefully revealed by Sally, the wife of Andrew's boss. Spurned as a friend by the high-minded Claire, Sally's revenge plunges their marriage into literal darkness. Kate's delicate direction and Kelly O'Donnell's gleeful Saly were among the highlights of this dark patch in this beautiful play.

Only one more Sunday before we break for Midsummer! Read the full story

 

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Flux Sunday, April 6th

Monday, April 7, 2008 0 comments

SUBMARINE TEXT

One of the joys of writing on a regular basis for a regular group of actors is when you write for a specific voice and that voice nails the part exactly. That little thrill was mine when Rebecca McHugh read a part named, well, Becca, in my short play contribution to this Sunday's Flux.
And as her scene partner Zack Robidas noticed in our end of day feedback session, this was a Sunday of subtext (and as playwright Jeremy Basescu voiced, full of one of subtext's primary colors, guilt).

ONEIDA, OR THE PUBLIC SUBTEXT OF DESIRE
We first read two more scenes from Johnna Adams' Oneida, Servants of Motion. Set in a historically real utopian community in the 1850's, the play has beautifully rendered the struggle inherent in making private matters public business. This religious communal society shares everything, including marriage; and the strain of making that private act a shared ritual has woven throughout all the scenes we've seen thus far. This Sunday, the charismatic founder Noyes holds a communal criticism of his sexual favorite Tirzah, both because her romantic preference for Edward goes against the grain of the community's sexual sharing, and because he wants her private heart to love him most. A very private scene followed this, where Mary, still hurt from the death of her newborn child, buries a doll she burnt to punish a child. The subtext of desire, and desire's bastard child guilt, began in these scenes and continued throughout the day's work.

SIMPLE, OR ANYTHING BUT
We then read three scenes from Jaime Robert Carrillo's Simple, a play about the impossibility of connection for Perry, the play's protagonist. Told in a theatrically alienating way, this Sunday's scenes opened Perry up through a series of comically heartbreaking letters he writes to a sports coach, a political candidate, his father, and an ex-lover. An uneasy laughter broke the tension as this lonely man tried to find any kind of companionship.

BIRD HOUSE, OR YES AND
A refreshing break was taken from the guilt submarine of Sunday the 6th with Kate Marks' Bird House. Syl has left Louisy and the Bright Side to right wrongs on the Lop Side, where War Wolves abound and family pictures are blown by hot winds over barren lands. Syl wrestles with Myra, a child-like tyrant who claims to be the Sarge Ant of the Lop, as Louisy attempts to befriend Myra's caretaker Rita. A great note about this play came out of the feedback session - this is a play of 'yes, ands'; the improv term used to describe the practice of agreeing to whatever your scene partner says, no matter how outlandish. This 'yes,and' energy stirs the play into a whimsical frenzy, undercut throughout with moments of longing and darkness.

TEXAS TOAST, OR WHATEVER YOU SAY, DON'T SAY ANYTHING
The dueling marriages of Claire and Andrew (well meaning east coast liberals failing to have children) versus Sally and Bo (shamelessly vital spiritually christian socially darwin texans) deepens as Andrew relies more and more on the memory of Mai (an underage Thai prostitute his boss Bo gave him as a 'gift') to survive the loss of desire towards his wife; and Sally becomes ever more frustrated by her inability to win over Claire as a friend. Really lovely work from director Kate and her cast of David Ian lee as Andrew, Elise Link as Sally, Greg Waller as Bo, and the especially Amy Fitts as Claire. The tension of the unsaid is growing nearly unbearable...I hope it lasts.

CALLING CQ, OR NO MORE MISTER MEAN GUY
After the domestic war of A Wonderful Wife, Jeremy Basescu's new play Calling CQ seems to be the national comedy of the presidency. President Clifford Quotidien careens about his office, teasing the secret service and befuddling a reporter with tales of a Martian invasion. Whether CQ's zaniness is real, or a red herring for a real invasion, or both; we will have to tune in next week to discover. This and Bird House both offered refreshing doses of comedy to the otherwise dramatic day of work.

SIX BEERS IN, OR SUBLINGS
My aforementioned contribution Six Beers In foreshadowed the sibling rivalry of our November production of 8 Little Antichrists by casting Zack Robidas and Rebecca McHugh as brother and sister. With Isaiah directing and acting, this dream team was a little gift to myself, as the three of them navigated the uncertain waters between a brother and sister many years estranged. Subtle subtext siblings, sigh. This short set in a bar was written for Blue Box's Sticky series - we'll see if they decide to pick it up!

DOG SHOW, OR SUBTEXT OF A CERTAIN PITCH
Though we can't hear pitches that dogs can, we sure can hear them barking; and though Frank can't follow the strange sudden connection between his wife Candice and old high school bud Edward, he doesn't miss the barking. When Candice and Edward talk at a level to high or subtle for the bullish Frank, he responds by staking his turf in less elegant prose. While we only made it half way through this scene from David Ian Lee's new play, great work by new friend Anna Kull and Brian Pracht gave the scene an irresistable sexual (and subtextual) tension.

So there it was...a Sunday with a little guilt, a lot of subtext, and a few shots of pure silliness. There's probably a church joke there somewhere, but I'll leave it to others to make. Read the full story

 

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Flux Sunday. March 9th

Saturday, March 29, 2008 0 comments

PLAYING WITH POWER
Flux Sundays has been growing steadily, and we have now had to change our invitation structure so that new folks come for three sessions only - giving us a chance to know them, and vice versa - with the potential of future revisits after all on the waiting list have had a chance. However, those invited before this strange set of rules was put in place still have permanent invitations; and that is very happy news in the case of Kate Marks, a director/playwright who did both (and even acted!) in her Flux Sunday debut. (The picture to your left is an image from her production of The Odyssey at LookingGlass - can you spy a different Flux Sunday regular?)

THE DOG SHOW: POWER WITH A VIEW
All our plays this particular Sunday dealt above all with power, and that was especially true with David Ian Lee's post-Sleeper play, The Dog Show. I played Edward (the guy with the power) and Jason Paradine played Frank (the one, allegedly, without it), and Cotton Wright, a powerhouse herself, directed. Having had too many family members who took too much pleasure from the power they held over others, it was an uncomfortable if familiar skin I slipped into, torturing Jason's character by 'helping' him seek revenge on a common enemy. We were all buzzing about what will come next, as David laid just enough mysterious land mines down in this first scene that we're all wondering who will be blown to the moon.

A WONDERFUL WIFE: POWER LOST AND REGAINED
Jeremy Basescu's A Wonderful Wife reached its shattering climax. Angela, the 'visitor' who took broke apart June and Carl's marriage, has found a shared love of beauty and female power with June even as she is (or was) Carl's lover. Her power over them both is pulled out from under her by sketches drawn by June and Carl's son, Max. Max has tracked down Angela's daughter and drawn her nude - drawn her so beautifully that Angela's poisonous hold is broken, and husband and wife enjoy a blissful, if brief, reunion. Candice Holdorf's stunned reaction to being dethroned was one of the finest performances of a stage direction I've ever seen at a Flux Sunday. Both Rob Ackermen and Anja Braanstorm captured the beauty and fear of having their blinders finally ripped painfully off. And Isaiah Tanenbaum continued his excellent direction of Jeremy's work.

BIRD HOUSE: POWER AS A GAME
The first scene of Kate Mark's play Bird House was a zany yang to the gin yin of David's Dog Show. The birds in question are Lousiy and Syl, two roommates and friends bound to each other to fill the boredom of their days with silly songs and kukcoo bird watching. Almost like a Godot staged by Jim Henson, the characters try to entertain themselves in a darkly whimsical world where murmurs of war and death darken their play. Though fun was had by all, particularly capturing the earnest craziness of the play was Nancy Franklin's Louisy.

TEXAS TOAST: SEXY POWER
Kate directed this lovely set of scenes from Katherine Burger's play that I am currently obsessed with, and in these scenes, sex and power have a messy hook up. Andrew, our East Coast liberal mild mannered expert on Asia, falls under the spell of his boss, the Texas-sized social Darwinist, Bo. On their trip to Thailand, Bo slips a teenage prostitute into Andrew's room; and while Andrew at first attempts to get the girl out, the scene deepens as the complexity of both their needs are revealed. Claire, Andrew's wife, is obsessed with having a child; and Andrew cannot seem to give it to her; and as a result, their sex has become clinical. Feeling lonely and powerless, Andrew makes a mistake he cannot soon forget. In contrast to that difficult marriage, Bo and his ferociously Christian former cheer-leader of a wife Sally, attract with the vitality of their love even as the cruelty of their opinions repel.

In sum, a powerful Sunday. Read the full story

 

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Flux Sunday, March 2nd

Monday, March 17, 2008 0 comments

I am so late posting about Flux's developmental adventures! I would be ashamed if I had time to be ashamed! Instead, I will do penance by making every sentence in this post end with an exclamation point!

Or no, that would make all suffer. No one likes an unnecessarily exclamation. (I think!?!?)

Ah, reader, but we've had a good run of Flux Sundays since March 2008 became a part of our lives. Let me tell you about the first.

19 WORDS
We began by reading through the second half of my short play for Gideon Productions, 19 Words. For those of you who know, imagine Jane Taylor reading this monologue, and then imagine me profoundly happy with the happy-sad:

Shh, listen, you’ll like this.
I was thinking about how I met you,
And him, for the first time; and I just knew
One of you was going to change everything
For me; suddenly I became aware
That my body was an adult body
Or close enough, which meant it was going
To get sick like my Mom’s body was sick,
Die like all my fucking grandparents did,
(All four of them dead by then, no damn fair);
I felt my skin turn into something that
Could and would get sick and die; so then why,
Looking at the pair of your teenage grins,
Did I feel something wonderful begin,
Something so beyond anything I’d dreamed
That in that moment I couldn’t tell which one
Of you I’d fallen in love with, first sight;
And then I blinked and realized, oh, right, him;
But Fred, what if I just blinked the wrong eye?
Setting aside the fact you were attracted
To little kids and so that wouldn’t have worked;
And now you’re dead and can’t hear me at all;
(FRED moans.)
Thanks for moaning, sorry this is so long;
But I’m just trying to say in that blink
Our entire life together was lost forever;
And that’s how we go, blinking along, losing
Entire lives with every lowered lid;
So that when my husband died, when you die,
And me, a million blinking lives go, too;
A field of fireflies dark all at once;
And once dark, like they never lit at all.
I know that. What I don’t know is why I
Want to say the sentence so fucking bad;
Why the end of the world feels so much like
Looking at a pair of teenage boys grinning;
Because, Fred, now I know the final word,
The nineteen words that end the world, I know;
And so even though I know that ending
Even one blinking life is tragedy,
Two boys are grinning and one of them’s mine.
Shh, Fred, I’m going to tell you a secret.

ACTING CLASS
We then read-through the first scene of Rob Ackerman's play about an acting teacher at a military school, most memorably brought to vividry (not a word, and probably shouldn't be) by the happy return of David Crommett and his performance as the drill seargent.

SLEEPER
Once on our feet, we staged 8 pages of David Ian Lee's Sleeper, which have the proportional weight of 3 pages of a normal play. Especially exciting was the introduction to the group of Jason Howard, of whom I've heard such wonderful things (especially in the legendary Universal Robots production) as Bobby; and his dirge for his daughter.

A WONDERFUL WIFE
We also approached the climatic confrontation in Jeremy Basescu's A Wonderful Wife, as Angela's malevolent hold on the once hapless marriage of Carl and June is shaken by the arrival of drawings with too much beauty for anyone's good. Especially exciting was Ken Glickfeld's righteous helpless and hilarous wrath, and Isaiah Tanenbaum's continued impressive work as a director (he will go on to earn his Flux Merit Badge in Directing and pull into the lead of Flux badgery.)

TEXAS TOAST
Now, if I'm you, and according to Walt Whitman, I might be, I know what we're thinking; why did we use that picture of Caitlin Kinsella from Have Another at the start of this post? Well, if you've read this far, that means you should be rewarded with that very knowledge, and you must therefore know that as Sally, the Texas cheerleader/decorator/land shark from Katherine Burger's marvelous play, Texas Toast; Caitlin broke through into major Flux Sunday player status. This coveted status was earned by her Sally cavorting like a bull made of sunlight through a particularly delicate china shop; perhaps best immortalized by her spanking herself in delight at just how bad she was being. The scene was Sally's 'friendly' visit to Claire's home. Claire, an East Coast transplant brought to Texas by her husband Andrew's work, is ill-prepared for the hurricane of judgement, peer pressure, and aggressive kindness that Sally brings.
While Claire is being overwhelmed by Sally, Sally's husband Bo is performing a similar dominance of Andrew (Claire's husband). And as we learn that on their business trip to Thailand Bo has persuaded Andrew to do some darker things; the bottom drops out of the play's antic humor; and becomes about a working marriage of two delightfully morally bankrupt vitalists (Sally and Bo) trying to dominate the failing marriage of the well-meaning but guilt-ridden Andrew and Claire.
Also exciting was Amy Fitts' first Sunday as Claire, and her subtle and nuanced work was truly lovely. Read the full story