Flux Theatre Ensemble

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

ALONE AND TOGETHER
One of our most exciting and well-executed Flux's that I can remember, our work together on the 16th seemed to coalesce around themes of aloneness and togetherness. Those themes were especially lovely and unsettling in Johnna Adams' play Oneida, Servants of Motion, about the Perfectionist communist christian utopian community that thrived for 33 years in upstate New York in the mid 1800's (picture to the left). The Oneidans share everything, including and most famously there marriage - all the women of the community were married to all of the men - and in this "complex marriage" (as they called it) women were encouraged to have multiple partners and the men required to practice male continence. The incredible closeness of this community lead (for some) to an equally strong alienation; and those themes echoed through the rest of our work.

SIMPLE: WHAT ALONE SOUNDS LIKE
In Jaime Robert Carrillo's play Simple, that alienation was at its strongest. Director Kate Mark and a cast of Joe Mathers, Gretchen Poulos and Jake Alexander found theatrically evocative ways to stage Jaime's themes of disconnection: one actor would turn upstage and say the lines as another actor silently acted saying them. Simple, but effectively disturbing, and Joe as the Clerk and Gretchen as Gigi and the Waitress found the humor surrounding Jake's portrayal of Perry as an open walking wound. We'd read these scenes at a Sunday last year, but Kate's staging really brought these first scenes to a disturbingly vivid life. Perry tries increasingly asocial ways to establish any kind of social connection.

ONEIDA: ALONE IN A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE
In contrast, Mary has an entire utopian community married to her to help her through the pain of her stillborn child. But in this next scene of Johnna's Oneida, that only makes her feel more alone. Because the Oneidans also practiced open and vigorous group criticism, Mary's failure to bring a child to birth subjects her to not only the group's concerned love, but also their concerned criticism; particularly at the hands of Ann, the head of criticism fiercely played by Flux newcomer Nitya Vidyasagar. In order to make up for her failure, Mary (heartbreakingly played by another newbie, Autumn Horne) asks for more and more severe criticism. This unsettlingly funny and sad scene was well staged by Jaime and featured additional great work from Jane Taylor, Ken Glickfeld, and Jason Paradine.

TEXAS TOAST: OTHER MARRIAGES DINING TOGETHER
In contrast with the 'complex' communal marriage of Oneida, Katherine Burger's Texas Toast again contrasted the vital and cruel marriage of the Texan Bo and Sally against the fragile and kind marriage of East Coasters Claire and Andrew. I was lucky enough to direct a dream cast of Richard Watson, Elise Link, Amy Fitts and David Ian Lee; and in a dinner scene between the two couples, watch how subtly Katherine exposes the fault lines and shifting allegiances between them. The theme of childlessness from Oneida carries through into Claire's chilling public declaration of her own barrenness; and as Andrew continues to hide the secret of his dalliance in Thailand, our hopes for this couple come under increasing siege.

BIRD HOUSE: TOGETHER UNTIL YOU'RE NOT
But if Texas Toast hints at the impending doom of a couple, Bird House gives it to us direct, albeit in its trademark vaudevillian style. Syl and Lousy have the banter of mutual shut-ins shut-in for a very long time - playwright Kate Marks even has ancient versions of them occasionally commenting on the action. But Syl, inspired by the hints of war and death and full of her own ability to change things, leaves the musty safety of Louisy behind; and in the silly comic banter that ensues, a little of the loneliness these zanies may find creeps in.

A WONDERFUL WIFE: ALONE WITH YOURSELF
The denouement of Jeremy Basescu's A Wonderful Wife served as a lovely and apt denouement to our days' work: whereas the other four plays' scenes dealt with breaking apart and disconnecting, Wife ends with June coming together in herself. She doesn't need Carl, Max, or the vampiric Angela to find beauty any longer; she has found it in herself. She has become, in the memorable words of Max's girlfriend (and Angela's defiant daughter) Christine, almost like the air in a room; her presence expanding to fill everything while at the same time giving room for others to move within. Rob Ackerman's reading of Carl the husband's letter to his lost wife proved a melancholy counterpoint to June's newfound independence - he is finally all the way alone and his only grace, knowing he is the sole cause of it.

After all the scenes were done, we had just enough time to circle and discuss one moment in the day's work that had some 'heat'; and all five plays received well-deserved attention. And I left feeling lucky to be a part of Flux's own, ever evolving and always complex marriage. Read the full story

After our hiatus for Pretty Theft and the holiday, it was great to return to our weekly workshop series, Flux Sunday. We ended up at Tiffany's Robin Reggi space, a hip architectural loft with lots of space for different scenes rehearsing simultaneously.

And that was a good thing, because we had a record 8 scripts to wrestle with! To accommodate the number of pages and some late arriving Fluxers, some were read at the table and the rest staged. While I had a few tense moments trying to pair the actors with parts, making sure everyone had something worth their time, it ended up being one of our more vibrant Sundays.

We began reading Jaime Robert Carrillo's Simple. Flux knows Jaime as a versatile actor and passionate director (as well as an associate producer at Classical Theatre of Harlem) so it was great to see this side of his talent. A lonely man and his unusual sexual encounter in a strange hotel had a cinematic fluidity that gave the enigmatic action some urgency.

We then moved onto Brian Pracht's now classic Flux Sunday play, The Misogynist, or No More Mr Nice Guy. We developed this play at our last Flux Retreat, and Brian has continued to fine tune this dark comedy of frustrated male desire. This particular scene reminded me of the balance Brian strikes throughout the play of good vs bad intentions - no action any of these characters take is ever just one or the other.

Then onto Rob Ackerman's Icarus of Ohio, an epic memory play of one genius teenager's creation of a human ornithopter, i.e. human-propelled wings. We're really getting into the heart of this play now, and Tom DelPizzo brought all the arrogance and vulnerability that lives in our protagonist Jay's heart. Rob has all of the balls in the air now- the bullies, Jay's girlfriend Maggie, his now-surpassed mentors the Salt Brothers, the manipulating Admiral Crane trying to get the secret out of Jay- and now it is a matter to see how everything, well, falls. Rob just wrote that this play is going to be a part of staged reading series called hotInk, and I can't wait to hear the play in full. And a scene from Icarus will be in our next Have Another bar series on the 7th!

We then split into five groups with an hour to rehearse each of the scenes: Kay Mitchell directing David Ian Lee's Sleeper, Jeremy Basescu self-directing his A Wonderful Wife, David Douglas Smith directing Adam Szymkowicz's Open Heart, Jaime directing Johnna Adam's 8 Little Antichrists, and Candice Holdorf directing herself in Katherine Burger's Ah, Batvia!

I am always amazed by how even an hour's rehearsal can snap a scene into near production quality level of heat. That is always true of anything Candice does - her legendary series of performances at Flux always seem to involve costumes, props, and of course, razor sharp acting choices. In Ah Batvia, she played Katherine's divine Anthea, a Batvian were-panther married to a doddering English lord for devious purposes. She, Ken Glickfeld, Joe Mathers and Katherine's delirious language made me laugh out loud numerous times.

My sister Marnie and I landed the first scenes of Johnna's 8 Little Antichrists, the final play in her Angel Eaters trilogy. All three plays will be discussed more in depth in later entries, but this first scene really heightened my expectations for where this play will go (Mason conspiracies!) and acting with Marn is always great; though because this was a brother-sister fight, I found myself shaking a little afterwards. I think we fought more in that scene than we have in years of sibling hood!

Part of the thrill of Flux Sundays is our actors learning how to work within the worlds of our playwrights. With Adam's Open Heart, the sheer delight Tiffany Clementi and Brian Pracht took in his lunatic lovers showed me we're getting closer to understanding how his plays work; especially gratifying after Tiffany and Brian did such fine work in his Pretty Theft. Not to mention its really fun anytime you have playwrights like Adam, Johnna, Brian and Katherine all acting together in a scene.

Jeremy's A Wonderful Wife has been a wonderful opportunity to watch Cotton Wright wring both venom and longing from the simplest statements; in this scene, she played a character new to the play, Cynthia; and clearly articulated this young woman's journey into understanding, and using, the power her beauty holds. A rapt Jake Alexander gave the scene a surprisingly potent chemistry for a mere hour's rehearsal.

We had run out of time, and the playwright of Sleeper David Ian Lee had not materialized, and so for a moment we debated holding the scene until the next Flux. But graciously the group decided to stay, and we were treated to a melancholy dream sequence between lost father and grieving daughter (Rob Ackerman and Hannah Wolfe respectively), and then to the treat of Jane Taylor ripping the roof off with her potently offensive right wing talk show host. Our collective jaws dropped.

Eight scenes, twenty artists and three hours (and change) later, we emerged from the day more or less in tact, and already thinking about the next one. Read the full story

Last Friday, Heather and I brought Dream Chain friend Jaime Robert Carrillo to see Blue Box's 'Sticky' series. (Here's a pic of Blue Box's Libby Emmons and David Marcus at our 1st Have Another, in the middle of making a Tanenbaumwich). Set at the Bowery Poetry Club, their Sticky series features short plays by some amazing playwrights set in and at the bar.

The night we went, Heather, Jaime and I ended up sitting at the stage, which meant we were in the spotlight every time cabaret star Jeffery Marsh was singing (beautifully). I tried to look as mysterious and wise as possible, stroking my enigmatic stubble and squinting my soul-searching stare at the performances.

And there were some great performances! Flux Sunday playwright Erin Browne featured a sassy NYTR-friend Jody Christopherson in a short that had the crowd hooting like Springer. Both Libby and Dave acquitted themselves as playwright and actor respectively. Chashama friend Risa Shoup's was the last play, a haunting short about death and the end of the world that bubbled to life on the whimsy of a bartender serving blood instead of booze.

We also bumped into new friends like Rachel Klein and Daniel Swern, making for a night of quirky theatre, lovely cabaret, and great craic. Be sure to check out the rest of the Sticky series! Read the full story