Reflection

Artists reflect in the most interesting ways.

Today is the tenth anniversary of the attacks on the United States we now refer to simply as 9/11. I began the day with this facebook status: "i've been trying to find the right words to say how i feel about today. maybe it's more perfect that i can't find any words. remembrance. always." 

I think now I have some words. Maybe not words so much as a reflection. 

A couple of days ago I discovered the New York Times video feature called "The 9/11 Decade: Artists Reflect" (linked above). NYTimes discussed the tragedy and the last decade with eight artists from various artistic disciplines. I've watched most of the videos so far (and will surely make it through all of them). I think it is so interesting to listen to the way an artist processes an event of this caliber. For the most part, it seems, they find away to connect with 9/11 on a personal level, a concentrated level instead of in a big picture way. I encourage you to watch these videos. 

I too connect with 9/11 in as personal a way as I can. It's how I make sense of the world in general and the only way I know how to make sense of such a big event. As a playwright, I have attempted to tackle the subject focusing on the aftermath of 9/11 on the relationship of two sisters. The younger sister, Joni, is struggling to move on with her life when there is no one left to take care of. The older sister, Claire, is struggling to be the guidance for her floundering younger sister.

Joni focuses on remembrance: "You never had to sit down with mom's grief either. You weren't here to watch any of it. 'Don't bother your sister at school.' She said that almost daily. She desperately wanted you to be around but she didn't want to bother you. She was spiraling. She did the opposite of this. She stopped eating. She stopped getting out of bed. Then she stopped breathing. I had to sit there and watch her disappear. Once we decided papa was really gone, her soul left with him. It was her empty body that stayed behind. Those five years were the most painful of my life. There was nothing I could do for her. No amounts of walks in the park or old movies. No amount of reassurance could ever bring her back from the rubble." 

Claire seeks retribution: "Oh, enough with that already! Listen to me. I did take the easy way out. I was afraid.  It was easier to redirect my anger into something else. Law. Law is intense and requires all the energy you have. And I chose International Law. I had a whole world of things to learn. It distracted me; it still distracts me. And that way, if it comes down to it, I can prosecute the people who fucked up my family. But no, you are so right Joni. I never sat down with my grief, as you put it. Because sitting down with your grief adds two hundred pounds and makes you useless to society. But I‟m sure you know something about that."

I think I tend to lean more towards remembrance, as Joni does. I personally, didn't know anyone on the east side of the country. The most personal connection I had to the World Trade Center was a desire to visit Windows on the World, a restaurant at the top of the one of the towers. My mom and I had decided that for my graduation present we would go to New York City and that would be one of our stops. 

But that was still years away. When the first plane hit the first tower I was in my first week of high school. The minute my mom opened the door and said "A plane just flew into the World Trade Center and they don't think it was an accident," my life was dissected in two. A cliched as it sounds there was innocence before, and fear, cynicism, and adulthood after. Most days, I honestly do not remember my life before 9/11 because it seems to me, it has always been this way. This is the world I operate in and I do my best to get by. Scratch that, I do my best to figure out how I can thrive in modernity. 

As a person, I'm still exploring ways to make sense of what happened ten years ago and 3000 miles away from where I was at the time. As an artist, the same is true. 

Everyone has a different way of dealing with a tragedy. Some dwell, some run, some are touch and go. Some people's lives have stopped and will stop in the future because of 9/11. My goal is simply to honor the memory and delve into the story in anyway I can. My goal is to listen to the collective silence that settles over the country every now and then. It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

Can you hear it? 

The power of good feedback.

I feel like the creative wheels are turning like a hamster on crack running feverishly in its cage. The show has yet to even begin rehearsals and the ideas are percolating. I'm trying to keep them at bay and not get too many preconceived notions in my head about the topic or the way the process is going to be. So, in the mean time, I'm putting my energy towards other creative endeavors. Or, at least, I should be.

One of them is this year's edition of NorthNorthwest. Trust me, it's coming. Slowly but surely it is coming. It will be here. By the end of summer, it will be here.

Otherwise, I'm working with a group of lovely ladies to try and put together a showcase of my work. Those lovely ladies are as follows: Anna Townes, Emily Kight, Amanda Woodard, and Shannon Erickson. They've been patient in waiting for me to get all the one-acts into workable form. In fact, it was (and still is to some extent) taking so long that I finally called them together regardless of the state of completion of these one-acts. In fact, I called them together because of the state of completion of (one of) the one-acts.  I was stuck, utterly stuck on my 9/11 one-act I'm working on. I was hoping for help.

Having the ladies together in one room reminded me of the power of good feedback. In a few short hours, a couple of readings, a lot of wine and cheese and some tangential conversation, they gave me enough jumping off points that I currently feel a little overwhelmed but in the good way. As a playwright, there is always a risk in asking for feedback. You have to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em so to speak. It may not be the advice you need to help you along, it may not be advice you even want but if you have the right group of people working with you, helping you, the advice/feedback/comments can make all the difference in your process (and give you a kick-ass title). These ladies are the right group of people.

So, we're getting closer. The original plan was to have Related Strangers (that's the kick-ass title) fully produced by the end of summer. Unfortunately, for some good reasons, that looks like an impossibility. However, I think we can get a full staged reading up by the end of the year and produced by spring...? Hopefully. But we are moving, in a forward direction even.

[Good] Things are Happening

I'm in a show.

I must admit that is a statement I didn't think I would get to utter for some time yet. Still, as of yesterday afternoon, this statement is all mine.

I'm in a show.

Excuse my excitement and almost disbelief. I'll get to the good stuff now. The show is called c. 1993 (you never step in the same river twice) and it will be at Annex Theatre on Capitol Hill in Seattle. (more info here) It's a collaboratively created show based on events in 1993 and the idea that men who are bad boys are often idolized while women who are the same are considered "hot messes."

This is the kind of work I crave, love, hope for. I think I'm made to be a "theatre cross-trainer" as Rich Brown would put it. I mean, in the last four(ish) years I have been in five collaboratively created shows. It'll be a great adventure as I don't know most of the people in the ensemble as I have in the past.

It'll just be good to be in the creative atmosphere again. And yes, there are more good things happening but that'll have to be for a different post.

Atrocious.

"Atrocious" is, of course, referring to my ability to update this blog in a consistent and timely manner. I'm not going to make any promises (as I have in the past) that it will get better. But I will promise you this post. Just this one.

It's been a busy few months in the writing sector. I'm trying to get three one-acts ready to go. A group of friends and I are planning on self-producing them. Dates, time, and venue TBD. However, we cannot get started on the act of production until all three one acts are written. So far, two are "finished." That leaves one of them unfinished. And I'm stuck. I've been staring at it for weeks.

People are waiting for me to finish them.

I'm feeling a sort of pressure I've never felt before. Not just the pressure I put on myself concerning the quality of work but the pressure of everyone's desire of a new project. It's this pressure that continues to remind me that I need to go to grad school. I don't quite have the discipline to (apparently) get these one-acts done in a timely manner. 'Sides, I love school. It's time to go back.

I have been auditioning a bit too. Not enough. I feel like I'm trying but not trying hard enough. As in, not looking for enough auditions or going to them. It seems writing has taken over my life recently. I don't want that to be the only thing I do though.

On an up note, I am now on the board of Northwest Playwight's Alliance. I'm also having a short piece of mine read at their monthly reading series tomorrow night. So if you are around and like free events come see "The Last Tree" at Seattle Rep. It starts at 7pm and there will be another play being read as well. Finally, some of my work being seen in Seattle.

One step at a time.   

A hard month for Seattle arts.

Today Intiman Theatre made a sad announcement. After the last performance of All My Sons tomorrow, they will cancel the rest of their 2011 season and let go all of their employees until further notice. (See the Seattle Times article here.) This news makes my heart hurt. However, they are canceling their season with an eye on the future. Instead of pushing through with the 2011 season and maybe not making it after all, they will use 2011 to regroup and hopefully rebuild. I really hope they will come back and continue to produce the caliber of work they have been. My heart goes go to all the valiant employees, artists, technicians, designers, ticket office workers, concessions workers etc etc etc of Intiman Theatre. Thank you for giving me my first job in Seattle, my first opportunity to work in a professional theatre and a Tony Award winning one at that. I'm pulling for you.

This has been a rough month for the Seattle arts community. With the recent deaths of well-loved Seattle actor Mark Chamberlin and arts champion/leader Melissa Hines, I can feel Seattle artists reeling. Although I did not have the opportunity to meet either of these amazing individuals, the effects of their deaths on my colleagues has been palpable. I am saddened by these losses.

I am also scared for what all this turmoil means for Seattle's artistic future. I am beyond confident in the abilities of my colleagues, friends, fellow artists, and theatres in town to continue to uphold the artistic standards they have set and have encouraged me to try to achieve as well. I am more worried about our support. Whenever one theatre hits a bump in the road, people tend to worry about the future of all theatres. This is the time when, most commonly, supporters spook and pull away from the arts community.

But, this is the exact moment when I, with my whole heart, will encourage you (arts supporter) not to spook. It is only by your support and arts organizations supporting each other that the arts community will continue to stay strong and provide the over-arching community with evocative, creative, and world changing art. I cannot lie, many of us arts professionals are a little bit scared. The crashing state and government budgets which include slashes to the arts funding is terrifying. But despite it all, many organizations are doing exactly what they can to continue to provide our community the necessary and vital arts programs.

Seattle, look around you. Look at the art that is being done in your backyard. Downtown to Renton, Issaquah, Everett, Tacoma, Olympia, there is art being done everywhere by big theatres, medium theatres, collaborative groups and even individuals. We often think of the big theatres first (ACT, Seattle Rep, Village Theatre, 5th Ave - who all do fantastic work) but it is important to remember that art comes in all shapes and sizes. Seattle Shakespeare Company, Annex Theatre, New Century Theatre Company, Shady Lane Productions, Theatre Off Jackson, Open Circle Theatre, and Northwest Playwrights Alliance are all working long, hard, low paying hours, and sometimes no paying hours, to create art for you. And yes, the big theatres are also working those long, hard, low/no paying hours as well. (I am still relatively new to Seattle so those are just some of the theatres I can think of right off the top of my head.) Of course, I have mention Book-It Repertory Theatre as well, as I work there and am constantly in awe of the passion and talent of my co-workers and quality of work that our theatre puts out. Realistically, however, I have a vested interest in all arts organizations. As a playwright, actor, and fledgling director every theatre I see is a new opportunity. And every person involved in that theatre is a colleague and an inspiration. I am pulling for every single one.

None of these theatres can survive without your support. More importantly, none of these theatre artists can survive without your support. And they certainly can't survive without their art.  

After all that, I must also take a moment to thank the Seattle community for the support they already give the arts and their artists. For a recent college grad, it has been inspiring. And thank you, Seattle artists, for showing me what great art can look like.

You're continued support means the world to us. Really.

In fact, it means life to us.  

Conquering my fears.

Today I did my first audition in over a year. It was for Balagan Theatre, their general auditions. I must say it was terrifying but I am proud of myself. Before I left Western Washington University, I had some experiences that really made me question whether or not I could and should continue acting. After much agonizing, I realized (as I do over and over again and probably will again and again) that it only matters what I want to do, what I'm driven to do. It does not matter what anyone else thinks I should do. The essence of the message I was getting from certain educators was that I had to choose; do I consider myself a writer or an actor?

The answer?
Both. Always and forever both.

Still, after a year I was a little out of practice. So my motto for this audition was "Have fun. Don't fuck it up." I believe with that as my goal, I was successful! Like I said, I'm proud of myself. And that's all that matters.

So I'm a little lax.

If you are still checking this blog...and that's a big if...you'll notice I haven't blogged in about a month and a half. It's not that nothing is going on. I guess it's just because I haven't thought about it much. So quick recap:

- A group of lady friends and I are working on putting together a showcase of my work. We don't know when/where/how it will happen but it will happen. And since it is a showcase of my work, I have get writing. In fact, I should be doing that now instead of writing this blog.
- March submission: completed. Just under the wire.
- I will be directing a new ten minute play at ACT in April (thanks to the suggestion of my lovely and talented friend Dayo Anderson). It's part of a New Playwrights Competition for high school students. I'm excited to work with a new young playwright. The next challenge: casting 8ish people. Anybody? Anybody?

So that's my quick update. I'm going to try and update more often. Try.