Carry the Ball Forward

For any large event (moving day, opening night, wedding, etc), I like to worry early and push hard right at the beginning. Like is a strong word. It's probably better to say I really DON'T like feeling any undue stress related to these events. In this case, when I say "stress", I mean the range of duress you feel between genuinely not knowing if you will be able to be ready on time and seriously doubting that you can be ready in time. I work very hard to avoid feeling this way. 

By and large, I'm successful in doing this by implementing a philosophy I call "carry the ball forward." Anytime you're looking eye to eye with a massive project, make constant progress any which way you can from the moment you become aware of your responsibilities. Big projects, especially in the creative realm, have many unknowns. They often include coordinating with a whole bunch of moving pieces. Various people with different agendas will likely need to converge on the same space in order to do what you need them to do. And there will never feel like there's enough time to get everything done. So, planning, strategizing and really making the most of the time you have beforehand will make everyone's life easier.

The benefits of this are two-fold. First, I can react to any last minute surprises from my calmest state of being and I have the bandwidth to actually deal with them, both of which enable me to give them my best response. Second, being well prepared going through the process allows my mind the time and space to think of other things that might come up. Which often translates to even fewer surprises.

Things that can help with this process...



MOTIVATION.

I like to think that everyone recognizes how fantastic pre-planning is, but that they sometimes find it difficult to get fired-up about it. Seth Godin was asked at a speaking event if he ever got nervous about presenting. He replied that he always gets nervous about it, but he's trained himself to be more worried about what the ramifications would be if he never presented again. If he never did this presentation, maybe he would never make the next one and the next one and so on. Maybe he would have to go back to doing work he didn't care about with people he didn't like for the rest of his career. By making the fear of not presenting so vivid, the initial fear of presenting pales in comparison. 

To that end, I invite you imagine the full experience of what being under-prepared for your big day would be like. On a physical level it might feel like that time in school where you thought you'd studied the right material, only to find out on the test that it was the other chapter you should have focused on. Your heart pounds, your stomach drops, your mouth goes dry, you start to sweat. Now consider how that unpreparedness could impact everyone else involved in this equation - the friends who gave up their Saturday to help you schlep boxes, the investors who believed in your vision enough to sink money into your project, your mom or dad who (presumably) will only see you get married once. Consider what would happen if there was suddenly an emergency in your own personal life - right before this event - that demanded your attention be elsewhere for a week? Injury or illness to your or a friend or family member, a catastrophe at work, a fire or robbery in your apartment building. Or perhaps imagine what it feels like when you have to pay double what you were expecting because you're forced to use the only vendor who can deliver within your time frame. I don't mean to rain on your parade, but all of these things are real possibilities. And you can either be a victim of your circumstances or you can be well prepared to take on the world. If you've done a great job of preparing, you'll be in the best position you can be to temper or take advantage of any last minute surprises. When the experience matters, set yourself up for success.

PLANNING. 

It's tempting to just jump right in and start doing stuff when something over-whelming is on the horizon. But without planning, this isn't progress. It's creating chaos. Not helpful. Not helpful at all. I start my planning by doing a huge brain dump with just plain old pen and paper. Start by writing down...

Categories.
Categories are the major areas of focus. These are the main components of your events. When I got married, my categories were things like "flowers", "food", "ceremony". If anything pops into your consciousness during this phase that isn't a category, write that somewhere in the margins so that it can be plugged into the process at the appropriate time. (If you're into mind mapping, this is a great place to use it.) The idea is to create as much of a broad scope as you can. Once I've got what seems like a good overview, I go back through each category and start identifying... 

Subcategories. 
Your subcategories are things that are manageable chunks, but still require a couple of steps of parts to complete. So, for example, my category of "flowers" yielded the subcategories "bouquets", "boutineers", "centerpieces", "accessories" and "misc. decorating". From there, I could move to...

Asking Questions.
How many boutineers do I need? What are the centerpieces going to be? What kind of flowers do I want? Am I going to hire a florist? Who do I know who might know a good florist in that area? Ask, ask, ask. As some things are answered, they will generate more questions. But this initial round of questions at least alerts you to what it is you know you don't know. From here, begin...

Prioritizing.
Prioritizing is initially a question of where your minimum requirements lie. What are the things that you absolutely could not be satisfied going without? Once you've determined your list of "must haves", then identify what from that list is going to take the most time to get done. (Note: if there's something that is on your "must have" list that you have no idea how you're actually going to pull off that automatically classifies something that will take the most time.) From there divide everything into one of three groups - "most important", "important" and "nice to have". If it's a top priority and you don't know how you're going to do it/you know it IS going to take a long time, it moves to the "most important" section. Just under that in the "important" realm will be the things that are straight forward and don't involve a long process. And lastly, the rest of the stuff that would be "nice to have", but is not imperative. Now for the fun of...

Identifying Next Actions.
What are the next actions (the first steps) that needs to happen for your top priority items? (This part of the process may trigger a whole other round of questions. Fear not. There will always be a certain amount of refining in this process.) Your list of next action steps should be as black and white as possible and ideally have a definite end point. It might be "decide on colors". It might be "ask my Facebook friends who they would recommend as a florist". It might be "research where I can buy 13 glass bowls for centerpieces". List these as succinctly as you can. If you've identified something as a next action but you actually need to do something else before you can complete it, it's not a next action. If you've listed "address envelopes" as your next action item, but you're still missing a number addresses from your mailing list, your next action item is actually "get missing addresses"...followed by "address envelopes". Once you've got your next immediate actions in order, you're welcome to list all subsequent actions that you can foresee. If the next action is "get missing addresses", the progression from there might be "address envelopes", "buy stamps", "mail invites", etc. (The difficulty I always have with this phase is in telling myself that I don't really need to break things down THAT explicitly. Although I'm capable of figuring out that addressing envelopes should come after actually getting the mailing address, I have a much better grasp of everything that needs to be done - and I'm able to plow through it faster - if I've identified the very next thing that needs to be done.) And now, the moment we've all been waiting for, you get to...

Go Wild!!
Attack that list of actions. If you're waiting for a response on one action, attack another one. When you get an answer to one of your questions, channel that back into action. The beauty of this process is that you will always know where and how you can make immediate progress. You will also be able to delegate, if given the opportunity, because you will have a precise list of what needs doing. If you've really planned out everything that you need to do, you should have a pretty realistic picture with regard to how things are coming together. If things seem like they're way behind, figure out what the minimum you need to accomplish is. Also, look to see if there are ways to get the work done that may be less ideal, but significantly faster. When I was moving it would have been ideal to pack each box only with items for a certain room. But it was significantly faster for me pack things as they were no longer needed and as they could be fit into boxes. Extra towels in the linen closet became the perfect thing for wrapping extra glassware from the kitchen.

I realize that at this point I've beaten this concept to death. But I really and truly believe in its merits. We DIY'ed just about everything that could be DIY'ed for our wedding. I made my dress. I made the flower girls dresses. My husband made all our signage. We built the website from scratch. We made all of our flowers. We made our favors. We made our centerpieces. We designed our own programs. We made our guestbook. We wrote our own vows. If it could be done, we did it. Additionally, I was out of town for a month working on a show that closed two weeks before my wedding. My husband took off the three days before our wedding so that he can be available to help with last minute stuff. But we were in such great shape that we basically spent that time goofing around. And it was the best way to start our wedding weekend. We were able to just be happy and relaxed before all our family and friends descended. It's possible. And it's so fantastic to step into the hurricane knowing that you're really and truly ready.

Carry that ball forward!

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Kiss Me Kate Thoughts...

The following was a response I wrote as part of my application to the Charles Abbott Fellowship. It contains some thoughts relating to Kiss Me Kate and the challenges and opportunities of staging a classic American musical.

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The challenge in staging a classic American musical is making it relevant. The opportunity you stand to gain by achieving that is enabling your audience to connect to the show on deeper level. Kiss Me Kate is a great show. It’s got great music and wonderful dance numbers. It’s a show that audiences know and love. It’s a little sexy without being over the top. In short, it’s a classic for a reason. However, it’s definitely from a different era. And while I think it will always be something of a period piece. (Although now, as I think about it, I’m really intrigued by the idea of setting it in modern day Vegas or someplace where gangsters could feasibly show up.)

When I say relevant, I mean that I want the lead characters – the characters who carry the emotional weight of the show - to feel more real. It would be so exciting if you could create the same suspense that a good romantic comedy evokes, where you root for the main couple to get together but you don’t know until the end if they will or not. In a classic musical, where much of your audience has seen a previous production of the show (or can take a guess at the formula the show is based on) it’s certainly difficult to build any “will they or won’t they?” suspense - I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this with a classic musical - but it would be incredibly powerful. I think one of the worst and most human things about love is how completely uncontrollable it is. We don’t control who we love. We can’t will ourselves to stop loving someone. And it’s agonizing to love someone who you believe you shouldn’t love or to love someone who you think doesn’t love you back. I don’t want to just accept that Fred and Lilli end up together. I want to genuinely believe that Fred is the only man who could truly make Lilli happy and vice versa. I want “So In Love” to rip your heart to ribbons. The more the lead characters can be fully human, the more we are willing to forgive them for having beliefs or attitudes that are somewhat archaic. , I would love to see it have more emotional impact. How do you make it more than “nice”, more than just “amusing”? To me, this is Kiss Me Kate’s biggest challenge, and its biggest opportunity.

In watching the 1999 London version of Kiss Me Kate that’s available on YouTube, I was very turned off by the portrayal of the leading female characters, Lilli and Lois. Ultimately, it struck me as a rendering where the women were significantly more flawed than the men. The men seemed to end up on top and managed to maintain a bit more dignity. And while I realize that this is in text of the book and the lyrics, it’s not something that appeals to me. One of the challenges of a classic musical is that you are limited with regard to what you can change. This can become doubly challenging if the piece reflects attitudes or stereotypes that are less acceptable today. Sometimes this can be mitigated by cutting certain numbers or getting permission to modify some of the language. However, with a work like Kiss Me Kate, I don’t see that being the answer. I would be curious to see if the men and women could be rendered as equally flawed by tweaking the casting, interpretation and physicality. I am not interested in one party “taming” the other. I am interested in two evenly matched parties who learn they can’t out battle each other and realize they are very much in love.

For starters, I would love to see Lilli and Fred be the same height. (I would also love to see Howell cast significantly shorter than Lilli or Lois so that 1) he can’t physically dominate either of them and 2) it becomes more apparent that they were both with him because of his powerful position. And I think it could be really funny.) Or at least the same height when Lilli has a heeled shoe on. In this way, they visually become equals and Fred ceases to be someone who can physically dominate Lilli into doing what he wants. I think this could also add to the insecurity that Fred feels around Lilli. In the fight sequences for this show that I’ve seen, Fred and Lilli seem to beat each other up with equal success. However, Lilli has specific lines about how she can’t sit down because Fred has beaten her so severely, a gag that continues to be exploited as the show goes on. I would love to see - within the physicality since it’s not mentioned in the text - that Fred has also sustained some lasting injuries that Lilli is able to periodically exploit.

With regard to the relationship between Lois and Bill, I would love to ramp up the issue of Bill’s gambling. This gets brushed under the rug with a kind of “boys will be boys” shrug. The text says it’s not the first time he’s lost a significant amount of money gambling. It could be that Bill’s debts are part of the reason why Lois needs to see other beaus - because she’s paying for his losses and, rather than live on beans and rice, dates other guys who can pay for her dinner. I wonder if a visual reference to Bill’s gambling could be planted in or around “Always True To You In My Fashion” as a way to link their transgressions - a sort of “you do this thing that you shouldn’t, which makes me do this thing that I shouldn’t”. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to imagine that if Bill were able to hold on to his money, he and Lois might be able to settle down and legitimize their relationship. Additionally, while Lois could just be played as a dumb tart, I think it’s also possible to play her as someone who pretends to be dumb and uses her sexuality in order to get what she wants. While the second option is perhaps a bit darker (and maybe even less comedic) it’s the more interesting interpretation to me.

The flip side of evening out this dynamic for the women, is that it allows the men to also be fully-developed, thinking, feeling characters instead of just caricatures. Love stories are not new. They are one of the most fundamental human narratives. If they are told specifically and allowed the full spectrum of thoughts and feelings that accompany them in real life, they cannot help but draw us in. If not, they become irrelevant and easy to step over on our way to something more interesting.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Cabaret

This post is inspired by Roundabout's current (remounted) production of Cabaret, directed by Sam Mendes and starring Alan Cumming and Michelle Williams. Although I was familiar with the music and had a loose notion of the plot, this was the first time I'd ever actually seen a production of this show. This is perhaps the least familiar I've been with a show that I'm posting about, so I'm still very much in "thinking mode" about this one, but here we go...

- Who's story is this?
I'm not sure who's story this is. That seems completely dumb to say, but it's true. I had always assumed that it was Sally's story. Or perhaps Sally and Cliff's story. Maybe that comes from having seen Liza's face associated with it more times than I can count. And I guess it is her story. But to me, the more interesting story is the one between Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz. In Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz's story you see the rising Nazi sentiment of Berlin destroy the possibility of two people finally being able to share their lives together. In Sally and Cliff's story, the Nazi's presence is almost a sidebar. Due to the way this piece is structured (the effect that the Nazi presence has on the story, the way its presence is revealed and songs like "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" and "If You Could See Her"), it seems like the Nazi sentiment and the way it made cowards and enemies out of neighbors was at least one of the concepts that Kander and Ebb intended to punctuate. Making the story Sally's seems a little asking people to pay attention to the cop who's writing out a parking ticket, while there's also "subplot" revolving around a cop who's engaged in a high-speed car chase. But just because something is more interesting doesn't mean it's where the story is.

- About the sex. 
There are a lot of show numbers with in this musical. Many of the songs are presented as the various acts of the Kit Kat Club. Which is to say, many of the songs in the show do not advance the plot with their lyrics. Rather they tend to act as commentary on the story. Since that connection is not overtly present in the lyrics, I think it's important make sure that the staging and choreography focus on highlighting those parallels. Most of the numbers in this production did that very well, but the few that didn't just kind of passed by as naughty nightclub numbers.

- Sensitivity vs. Survival.
In this story we find two couples - one younger and one older - but both with a sensitive man and a survivalist woman. While the details of these relationships differ, I find it interesting that the need to survive is what ultimately ends them both.

- About Sally
This production paints Sally as a very infantile sort of woman, which, while it may be a valid option, is completely unappealing to me. I think Sally is absolutely the life of the party. But I think being the life of the party is how she's survived living in a very cold and difficult world. She's the life of the party because she her life depends on it. She's made of steel, even if she is unable to ultimately free herself from the destructive patterns of her life. Even in her opening number, "Don't Tell Mama", I think the role-play of playing sweet and innocent is much more exciting if it's played by someone who is actually a strong woman. I mean, it's fun to watch a cat play, but it's much MORE exciting to see a tiger playing. The thrill of danger and power that can be turned on at any point is much more engaging than knowing you've already seen the full extent of what the damage would be. Plus I think letting Sally be a stronger character fits better with "Mein Herr".  I also think this affects how we experience her decision to get an abortion and go back to the Kit Kat Klub at the end of the show. If she's been forged by the necessities of her life and is someone who has had to take care of herself, that strength and determination makes what she does a decision of survival. If she's infantile, it makes it a childish impulse.

- About Cliff.
Bill Heck turns in a great performance as Cliff. However, I think this role ultimately makes more sense with someone who is more of an underdog. Cliff stops working for Ernst and ultimately leaves Berlin as a result of not being able to stomach the rising Nazi sentiment, specifically as it relates to Herr Schultz. I think this kind of response is something that makes the most sense if someone is an outsider, an underdog, someone who's not one of the cool kids. If you're a strapping alpha male, it's easier to bury your head in the sand and stay put, because you can convince yourself that things aren't actually that bad in your life. Ernst still likes him and still has good paying work for him. He's got the girl (who might be pregnant with his child). It's significantly easier to stay put. I think Cliff has to be able to empathize deeply and personally with what Herr Schultz is experiencing, in order to up root everything and run away. I think if Cliff is that underdog, who is well aware of how ugly bulling can get, and he's watching the situation get serious for Herr Schultz, then he knows the only thing he can do to protect Sally is take her and get the hell out of Dodge. I also think you don't want Cliff to ever seem like a viable physical threat to Sally. I think once he becomes a potential physical threat, he's just like every other guy she's ever been with. There were a few moments in this production where Cliff briefly resembled Stanley Kowalski, which I don't think serves the story in any way. I think the tragedy of Cliff is that he's not strong enough to save Sally from herself.

- The MC.
I thought Alan Cumming did a marvelous job balancing both the notion of having fun with his role as host, yet also giving weight to the gravity of the situations. I think that is key for this role - having someone who is fun and unpredictable, but can let the mask drop in the second act. For that reason, I would love to see Christian Borle do this role as I think he does a great job at being able to flip between those two extremes. I also wonder if the MC is a figure that Sally constantly sees. What I mean by that is, in this production, the MC, as our narrator, wafts in and out of scenes - sometimes as commentary, sometimes as set dressing - without the other characters acknowledging him. Which I think is right. But I wonder if there's milage to be gained in Sally being the only one to be aware of him in the scenes outside of the Kit Kat Klub. Frankly, it might just make her look crazy, but I would be interested in trying it.

- The Elephant in the Room.
I love the way Ernst is revealed as being involved with the Nazi party. I think it's incredibly effective and I love that you don't see it coming. However, I wonder if more could be done to build up more of a peripheral Nazi presence before that without diminishing that payoff. At one point Cliff is arguing with Sally about the severity of what is going on with the Nazis and he says something to the effect of "haven't you been paying attention to what's in the papers?!" implying that you would have to be completely obtuse to NOT know how big of a threat this was. But, quite honestly, I didn't have any awareness that Cliff had been paying attention to it to begin with. As an audience member, I know we're in Berlin in the 1930s, but what specifically that means with regard to the cultural saturation of the Nazi party, I don't immediately have a context for. Especially, since no mention of it is made in the show for so long. 

- Maybe This Time.
The song "Maybe This Time" functions sort of like an aside. It pops up right in the middle of a scene an presents us with Sally's inner monologue. In this production, they staged this by pulling Sally downstage in isolated light in front of Cliff. Which is a nice visual and certainly helps us understand that the song is now commenting on the scene. But given that Cliff (and what he's saying) are the emotional impetus for the song, I think it might be stronger to have Sally upstage of him so that she can both sing her nightclub number and still visually reference the reason that she's singing that number.

- Life is a Cabaret.
This song marks Sally's return to the Kit Kat Klub. For this production, they had her dressed in a very simple black sheath dress. This might be the most that her body's been covered for the entire production. I'm not sure this costume choice really serves this moment. While I could see Sally's character justifying to herself that this moment is about taking back the reigns of her life, ultimately it's putting her back in a state of victimhood, at the mercy of the Kit Kat Klub. As such, I think part of the awfulness of returning to the Kit Kat Klub is being forced back into the skimpy outfits and having to perform for any man who happens to be there. (As a side note, I would also like to see her outfits be a little less revealing over the course of her living with Cliff. I understand that she's a person who doesn't really feel the need to cover up. But I think when you're in a relationship that feels safe - and I think she has to allow herself to feel safe and at home to some degree in her relationship with Cliff in order for us to feel any sort of loss when they fall apart - the need to constantly be showing leg or cleavage subsides. Also, given the fact that they reference it being cold enough outside for everyone to need coats, I imagine Cliff's apartment might also be a little chilly.) My other quibble with this moment in the show, was that the end of this song sounded exactly like everyone else I've ever heard sing it. This is the climax of the show and Sally's breaking point. I think the phrasing of that should feel personal.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Beware The Logical.

Much of the work I've done as an actor has been bringing new works to life. This process is always a bit of a whirlwind, but it can be really invigorating from a creative standpoint because you, the director, and often the writer are building what the story is from the ground up. The scripts are printed pages, not a bound and published book. Rewrites are happening, sometimes right up until opening night. Everyone is hustling

Sometimes, in this setting, a playwright will help you out by breaking up long speeches into separate paragraphs. (Often, when you're working on a script that has been previously published, the text for those longer speeches just appears in one big, long block.) This formatting helps quickly determine where the character's thoughts change. After all, Grammar 101 would indicate that you should start a new paragraph whenever you switch topic, and, at minimum, you have to know the points that make up your argument. However, once you understand what that shape is, I think it's important to be willing to separate the emotional ebb and flow of the character from the arguments within the text. I'm NOT saying ignore the text. You still have to communicate the information. What I am saying is the emotional state of the text may not align exactly with the information. The words about anger might not actually be angry when you say them. It probably makes sense for the emotion of anger to be somewhere in the neighborhood of those words - showing up maybe a sentence or two before or after - but for the words and emotion to line up exactly may actually end up feeling a bit flat. Sometimes there's more mileage to be had (and more truth) if we're able to let things get a bit messy.

I was fortunate enough to train with Fiasco Theater at one point (If you don't know them, you should. They are fantastic.) and one of the principles that they really encourage is that you try to remain as open minded about your character's emotional state as you can. Know your given circumstances and pursue your objective, but don't pre-determine how your character feels about it. Be open to the text and see where it takes you. And if you don't find anything interesting, try out an emotion that seems completely inappropriate and allow that to be your starting point. Rehearsal is the time to try these things out.

When we're overtaken by emotion in real life, we don't transition gracefully from one argument to another in a logical manner. Especially if we're making a perspective changing discovery about ourselves or the world around us, as the characters we play often are. We're just much sloppier than that in real life. Our mouths often say things we didn't know we felt until after we've said them. We say them and THEN we process what we've said. Or sometimes, something happens in our lives where we thought we would react one way and when the moment actually comes we don't. We thought we would be able to keep it together, and instead we're a total blubbering mess. We thought we'd be nervous, but instead we're totally calm. We thought we'd be laughing, where instead we're crying. 

Emotions are messy. Especially, in situations where we're saying these words aloud for the very first time - which is the effect we're trying to recreate in theater. The fun in watching theater is when we get to see someone discover how they feel about something When we get to see them at the point when they don't know what their next move is going to be. When we see them come unhinged. That's a riveting moment. That when we're on the edge of our seat, holding our breath. And I think that complexity comes when we allow ourselves to color outside the lines a bit.

Experiment with where you can skew the alignment with the text and your emotional state. Your audience is smarter than you think they are. You don't have to hold their hand for every step of the way. And your characters can be more complex if you let them.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Post them below. The more the merrier!

The Last Five Years

This post stems from the most recent revival produced by Second Stage of Jason Robert Brown's The Last Five Years. (What can I say? Sometimes, life gets a little backed up.) Given the rather cult-like following that this album has, it's striking that the last time this show was produced in New York was in 2002. Which is to say that Norbert and Sherie Rene are the definitive voices of this show for my generation.

This was the first time I had ever see a staged version of this show. I was delighted by the personalized choices that both Adam Kantor and Betsy Wolfe made through out the show. They did an outstanding job with the material. What also interested me with this production was the fact that it was directed by Jason Robert Brown himself. Given that this piece is known to be fairly autobiographical in nature, having the writer/composer direct it presumably gives you the opportunity to see the work the way the writer intended it.

- Working It.

Overall, I was struck by how hard both of the actors were working to act with their imaginary scene partners. This show uses three types of address:
- Jamie and Cathy sing to each other (The only number we see this in is "The Next Ten Minutes")
- Jamie and Cathy sing to themselves/the audience (Much like an aside or a direct address where the character is trying to process what's happening in their life and kind of using the audience as a sounding board. We see this in "Still Hurting" and "Moving Too Fast")
- Jamie and Cathy sing to imaginary versions of each other (Jamie sings to imaginary Cathy, Cathy sings to imaginary Jamie. We see this in "The Schmuel Song" and "I Can Do Better Than That").
Conceptually, there's a lot to like with regard to this format. "The Next Ten Minutes" becomes incredibly powerful and poignant by being the only real interaction the characters have. On top of that, I think the point of this musical is to show the separate versions of how this relationship crumbled. And in the interest of telling that story, I think it's helpful to have the rest of the songs be one-sided. However, I think what we lose in the moments where they're singing to imaginary versions of each other outweighs what we gain. I think really great actors are great because they are present and responding to what their scene partner gives them in the moment. And while there's a certain amount of technique that can be called on when one has to act with an imaginary partner, it's just richer when there's another body. Additionally, I think we, as audience, miss out on too much of their relationship. I think we would feel more for them if we could see what their relationship really was at it's best and at it's worst. I would be interested in trying to stage this in such a way that the actors were on stage and present for all of the scenes where it's implied that they are. I'm not sure if that's logistically possible. In the event that it's not, I would even be curious about what would happen if a "chorus" (another man and woman who didn't speak but stood-in for imaginary Cathy and Jamie) were added. I realize this could get weird fast, but I feel like those images of how Cathy and Jamie interact are so important.

- Good Guys and Bad Guys.
I don't find Cathy a very likeable character and I think that's largely to do with the structure of the piece. When I say "likeable", I don't mean "nice". I mean a character that we want to watch for a couple of hours. Someone who has some kind of redeemable quality. We meet Cathy when she's "Still Hurting". (Comparatively, we meet Jamie when he's just fallen head-over-heels in love.) In this configuration, I think it's really important to give Cathy something to fight for in that first song in order to keep that number from turning into a pity party, which is valid but perhaps not so useful. I think it's important for the audience to be able to like her at the top of the show, especially since they can't root for her. While I think most audience members, if not all, will know (or figure out) where the show is going (ie - that there's not a happy ending for these two people), the audience can root for Jamie in a way that I don't think they can't do for Cathy. By meeting Jamie at the beginning of his journey we can hope for a positive outcome for him (even when we know that's not what we're going to get) by virtue of the fact that we're moving forward in time. With Cathy, because we start at the end of her journey, it's significantly harder to root for her. We know how her story ends. There's nothing to root for. I think the best we can do is make her as likeable as we can. I think it's important that at any given point these are two good people who happen to not be good for each other. I'm curious what the effect would be if the show were played backward, starting with Cathy falling in love and Jamie having an affair. (Although, I admit that there's something very satisfying dramatically satisfying about the reveal that Jamie is having an affair after he's been such a likeable character up to that point.) I also wonder what the effect would be if the story was played chronologically, with both Jamie and Cathy both beginning with falling in love and ending with the end of the relationship. It's possible that playing it chronologically saps all the life out of the piece, since the opposing time progressions do create some interest, but I would definitely love to try a run like that in rehearsal.

- Overhead.
This production made use of video projections as part of the scenic back drop. I feel like projections are generally something that we in the theater are still trying to figure out how to incorporate in a successful and effective manner. With this production, sometimes I thought these projections helped and sometimes I thought they didn't. Going back to my initial quip about wanting to see more of their relationship, I wonder if projections could be used to goose that up a bit. Perhaps they could be used kind of like home movies.

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Post them below. The more the merrier!

Inspiration #2: Sam Mendes

This bit of inspiration comes to us by way of Vanity Fair Magazine. The original article can be found here. Or you can read the full text below. Enjoy!

"At its spring gala, the Roundabout Theatre Company honored Sam Mendes, prolific director of theater—his King Lear and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory are both currently playing in London—and films, including Skyfall and American Beauty.

The event, at the Hammerstein Ballroom in Manhattan, included speeches and performances from Helen Mirren, Jeremy Irons, Liam Neeson, and Alan Cumming, who did a number from Cabaret, which Mendes is bringing to Broadway this season. Some Mendes collaborators weighed in via video, including one clip in which Judi Dench and Daniel Craig joined in singing “Cabaret.”

After reviewing his career highlights, in depth, the British Academy Award winner said, “One of the things I love about Americans is you do massive ego trips incredibly well. Blimey. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many photographs of myself. I didn’t even know they existed.” Mendes also noted that while tributes are wonderful, they are backward looking, and then decided to share what he’s learned along the way. “If there are any directors out there in the audience, or anyone who’s interested in directing, I’ve written 25 steps towards becoming a happier director. These are them:

1. Always choose good collaborators. It seems so obvious, but the best collaborators are the ones who disagree with you. It means they’re passionate, they have opinions, and they’ll only ever say yes if they mean it.
2. Try to learn how to make the familiar strange, and the strange familiar. Direct Shakespeare like it’s a new play, and treat every new play as if it’s Shakespeare.
3. If you have the chance, please work with Dame Judi Dench.
4. Learn to say, “I don’t know the answer.” It could be the beginning of a very good day’s rehearsal.
5. Go to the ancient amphitheater at Epidaurus, in Greece. It makes you realize what you are a part of, and it will change the way you look at the world. If you’re an artist, you will feel central, and you will never feel peripheral again.
6. Avoid, please, all metaphors of plays or films as “pinnacles” or “peaks”; treat with absolute scorn the word “definitive”; and if anyone uses the word “masterpiece,” they don’t know what they’re doing. The pursuit of perfection is a mug’s game.
7. If you are doing a play or a film, you have to have a secret way in if you are directing it. Sometimes it’s big things. American Beauty, for me, was about my adolescence. Road to Perdition was about my childhood. Skyfall was about middle-age and mortality. Sometimes it’s small things. Maybe it’s just a simple idea. What if we do the whole thing in the nightclub, for example. But it’s not enough just to admire a script, you have to have a way in that is yours, and yours alone.
8. Confidence is essential, but ego is not.
9. Theater is the writer’s medium and the actor’s medium; the director comes a distant third. If you want a proper ego trip, direct movies.
10. Buy a good set of blinkers. Do not read reviews. It’s enough to know whether they’re good or they’re bad. When I started, artists vastly outnumbered commentators, and now, there are a thousand published public opinions for every work of art. However strong you are, confidence is essential to what you do, and confidence is a fragile thing. Protect it. As T.S. Eliot says, teach us to care, and not to care.
11. Run a theater. A play is temporary, a building is permanent. So try to create something that stays behind and will be used and loved by others.
12. You are never too old to learn something new, as I was reminded when I learned to ski with my 10-year-old son. He, of course, did it in about 10 minutes, and I spent four days slaloming up and down, looking like a complete tit. But, don’t be scared of feeling like a complete tit. It’s an essential part of the learning process.
13. There is no right and wrong, there is only interesting, and less interesting.
14. Paintings, novels, poetry, music are all superior art forms. But theater and film can steal from all of them.
15. There are no such things as “previews” on Broadway.
16. Peter Brook said, “The journey is the destination.” Do not think of product, or, god forbid, audience response. Think only of discovery and process. One of my favorite quotes from Hamlet—Polonius: “By indirections find the directions out.”
17. Learn when to shut up. I’m still working on this one.
18. When you have a cast of 20, this means you have 20 other imaginations in the room with you. Use them.
19. Please remember the Oscars are a TV show.
20. Get on with it. Robert Frost said, “Tell everything a little faster.” He wasn’t wrong.
21. The second production of a musical is always better than the first.
22. Learn to accept the blame for everything. If the script was poor, you didn’t work hard enough with the writer. If the actors failed, you failed them. If the sets, the lighting, the poster, the costumes are wrong, you gave them the thumbs-up. So build up your shoulders, they need to be broad.
23. On screen, your hero can blow away 500 bad guys, but if he smokes one fucking cigarette, you’re in deep shit.
24. Always have an alternative career planned out. Mine is a cricket commentator. You will never do this career, but it might help you get to sleep at night.
25. Never, ever, ever forget how lucky you are to do something that you love."

Pippin

This post is inspired by the current Broadway production, directed by Diane Paulus. It is certainly excellent revival, as evidenced by the four Tony awards it received. It utilizes much of (or at least harkens back to) the original Fosse choreography and adds to that a whole slew of acrobatics and circus tricks in order to fully immerse the audience in this 3 ring circus - spectacle of all spectacles. 

My previous experience with Pippin was playing Berthe in college (like you do) under the direction of Louise Quick (who, among other things, was part of the original company for the original Broadway production of Pippin and assisted Bob Fosse on several projects) - so I was familiar with the show but had not revisited it for a number of years.

My thoughts are as follows...

- Too much or not enough? 
My continual question with this show is whether it packs more punch if it's super glam or if it's tragically decrepit. I feel like I'm more familiar with the glam (or spectacle) version, which I think is certainly in keeping with the story. The leading player and his company are putting on a show filled with magic and illusion. But I wonder if there's milage to be had if the reality is that it's a complete wasteland and the players really having to work to make the show seem glamorous. I wonder about setting it somewhere atrocious (the thought that comes to mind is a concentration camp, or a prison, or something of that sort) and how that could punch up the stakes. I feel like the message of this show is that life is generally pretty awful. It has moments of beauty, but over all it's painful. And yet in spite of that pain, it's still worth living and connecting with each other. I think the more clearly unglamorous reality can be, the more poignant that becomes.

- Dancing with the devil. 
I LOVE the idea of a female Leading Player. That being said I would love to see more power and danger in that character regardless of whether they are male or female. The Leading Player clearly calls the shots. She's the one who's orchestrating Pippin's journey. He's the one who has to decide to move on from portion to the next, but she's the one who's directing him. I think the closest we get to seeing the Leading Player as this puppet master is in how the Leading Player interacts with Catherine. I would love to see more of that with the other players as well. Catherine seems to be the only player that the Leading player has to put in her place, which makes sense. Catherine is our human anchor in the show. She's one of the players, but of the players, she's the one who hasn't completely conformed to the tribe. So it makes sense that she's the one the Leading Player has to reprimand, but I would love to see other players also be controlled by the Leading Player. The Leading Player rules by fear and manipulation. In that kind of dictatorship, you have to be constantly exerting your domination over the tribe. If all we see of the other players is how happy they are to be under The Leading Player's charge, I think it greatly lessens how dangerous she is. The Leading Player is peddling a "happy escape" in the form of suicide, but I think it's valuable to see the cost of that escape manifested in the other players through out. I also think it's interesting if the Leading Player is potentially losing her grip on the tribe. I think that could potentially add to the urgency of converting Pippin. Obviously, it's important for the Leading Player to capture Pippin (otherwise, why spend all this time and effort chasing after him) but if the Leading Player's position is secure within the tribe, it doesn't seem like that big a deal if Pippin gets away.

- An emotional journey? 
I'm learning that one of the things I really want from my theatrical experiences is to have an emotional, empathetic response to the story that's presented. I have yet to feel something with regard to watching Pippin. Which I find strange. Granted, Pippin is sort of brat. He has everything and he's still not happy. It's kind of hard to feel bad for him. At the same time, it's a very human thing to be discontented with our lot in life, regardless of how good it may be. So I feel like there's the potential for us to feel something for Pippin, but, as I say, I've yet to experience that. There is a part of me that wonders if the script and score are structured in a way that undercuts an emotional response, that wonders if the show is designed to be a bit Bretchian and keep an emotional connection at bay. I don't know the answer to this, but if and when I direct this, I would love to try to find more of emotional current to it.

- Enjoy the Good Times. 
Carrying the notion of goosing this story's emotional impact forward, I think it's important to see Pippin really fall in love with the domestic life he has with Catherine and Theo. That picture of having a home and finally belonging somewhere should be the most beautiful moment in the show. After all, this is why Pippin forgoes ending his life. Pippin flees this when it gets difficult, but in order for this to really be a loss, (and for him to realize that it's worth struggling through the difficult parts) he needs to be fully in love with it. 

- Love Song. 
I think it's important for Love Song to be honest and open and real. This is where we see Catherine in love with Pippin and Pippin equally in love with her. Not puppy love, but real love. And where previous scenes with Catherine may feel more like "performance" as per the Leading Player's insistence, this scene should be completely true. It should also be something that each of them needs desperately, especially Catherine, who as a widow, enters into this very much as a adult. This is a situation where she was going through the motions of doing what she was ordered to do and ended up becoming emotionally invested in the result. 

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Post them below. The more the merrier!