A Note About Talk Backs…

The weather went nuts yesterday in Baltimore.  No shocker there because, well… Baltimore.  But we went from a relatively mild October and positively warm beginning of November to FRIGID within the span of about 48 hours.  Like, scarf and winter coat frigid.  But that didn’t stop last night’s audience from coming out to see Origin of the Species at the Strand!  And what an amazing audience we were blessed to have!

We had a group of students representing Goucher College, friends from New York City, Pennsylvania, and the Eastern Shore, several couples on dates, and two ladies out for a girls night who were very sad when the show ended (which tickled me pink!)  The entire group was present, vocal, and very engaged with the happenings on stage. So engaged, in fact, that a large group of them stuck around for an impromptu talk back with the cast and crew afterwards.

There’s nothing I love more than questions about something I’ve acted in or directed.  I’m always curious to hear other opinions about what has transpired over the course of the evening.  This group didn’t disappoint.  They had so many thoughts on the concept of time, on what the play means, on how it was written close to forty years ago, yet is absolutely relevant and profoundly appropriate to today’s conversations… We talked about gender and religion, whether time should be called Father or Mother, why the clocks were set to midnight, who Molly and Victoria really are, and how we all run on our own individual clocks when it comes to relationships, feelings, goals, and milestones.  It was a rich and inspiring dialogue.  The kind of civil discourse that we are sorely lacking at present in the world at large.  And it reminded me why I do this.

In the first act of the play, Molly says, “I don’t know which is better, the giving of knowledge or the receiving of it.”  It’s both.  And it’s all about gifts.   Live theater is all about gifts.  As artists, we give ourselves the gift of challenge.  Challenging our stamina.  Challenging our ability to emote and express.  Challenging our inner storyteller.  We give our audience the gift of choice.  What they take from our presentation is entirely their own experience.  They might love what we say and agree with it.  They may hate what we say and disagree.  They might have absolutely no idea and need to mull it over on the car ride home.  All of those experiences are wins because they give the mind a purpose.  This is why we create art.  To represent, to stimulate, and to question.

That just makes my day.

So many layers of discovery!

I’ve been in rehearsal for my current project, Origin of the Species by Bryony Lavory at The Strand Theater Company in Baltimore for approximately three weeks.  We’re blocked.  We have walls.  We’re gaining props by the dozens.  It’s coming together…

Origin is an interesting piece.  I didn’t choose it for myself, which is unusual for me as a director.  Elena Kostakis, the Executive Director at The Strand, got in touch with me at the end of the summer to see if I might be interested in taking over the director’s chair for the production.  I was hesitant for several reasons including, but not limited to, my lack of familiarity with the play – the fact that I live near DC – and my confidence level has been a in a bit of a funk since my last project (which is entirely my own fault, but that’s a story for another day…)  But – I’m so glad I said yes.  The Strand is a really welcoming and supportive place to make art.  And this is a project that is restoring the faith I’d thought I lost.  As it turns out, my faith just decided to hide under a rock and lick the wounds for a little while.

Origin revolves around two women – Molly Starkey is an adventurer.  A discoverer.  An innovator.  She is equal parts a creature of comfort and habit, but also a world traveler, a student of humanity, and willing to push the limits on what is acceptable and correct.  Victoria is a completely blank slate who has been buried in present day Tanzania for several million years.  Without giving away too much of the plot – we see all concepts of time melt away and uncover a relationship that peels back like the layers of an onion.  It’s about parents and children.  It’s about defenders and those they defend.  It’s about asking hard questions and getting surprising answers.  It’s about science and the patriarchy and feminism and breaking barriers and working our way down to the root of who we are.  And yet, it’s also about love.  It’s about a lot of things.

I have an absolutely amazing design team.  The immensely talented Laurie Brandon has been designing the lighting and the set with the very valuable assistance of Peter Johnson and Kerry Brandon, who are excellent building buddies.  Jen Swisko-Beck is putting her one-of-a-kind Museum Studies Masters degree to the test as our Properties Designer and Set Dresser (I said… go forth and bring me cool stuff.  It hath been brought!)  Amy Rawe Weimer, my costume designer of choice for every project I do, is back on board with us for the show and has some really brilliant ideas for bringing these women to life through color and style.  She is being assisted by Hannah Viau who is The Strand’s intern and a pretty darn awesome lady.  And Lanoree Blake is my majestic unicorn of a stage manager and rounding out the team as sound designer.

As for Molly and Victoria – I don’t think there are adequate enough words to describe Janet Constable Preston and Nicole Mullins Teasley.  Not only are they already off book (insert Hallelujah chorus .wav here), but these ladies are singularly talented.  They are formidable.  They are laying it all out on the stage every time they rehearse and giving me so much to work with as a director.  There is no ego.  No guile.  Just an incredibly satisfying will to do the work and elevate these characters into real people.  Janet has an innate charm and charisma you cannot teach.  From the moment she breaks the fourth wall with the audience we’re engaged.  You cannot take your eyes off of her.  She weaves the story with expert craft.  Nicole is a uniquely gifted physical performer.  In every day life, she is a lovely, statuesque woman with a quietly commanding presence.  When she transforms into homo erectus it’s like watching an exercise in human origami.  Her many years of dance training come shining through the smallest nuances and gestures.  Nicole’s hands, when you watch them carefully, tell a story all their own.  The two of these women together make for a fascinating pair.  The chemistry is palpable and I cannot wait for people to see what they’ve done.

I couldn’t be more delighted with the way things are shaping up a week before we head into tech!  Each rehearsal is what I like to call a Christmas Morning Gig.  It’s always fun, there are always surprises, and it kinda leaves you with the warm and fuzzies.

More to come…

 

 

 

Well…this is new!

“Make your heart bleed! Put your soul into that damn thing!  And try new things” said Dimebag Darrell Abbott.  Pantera, man.  Good for the heart!

I’ve never fancied myself a blogger.  Not because I don’t have anything to say, but more because I’ve always felt blogs are for other people.  While those other people are certainly welcome to read, comment, and weigh in on this little project of mine – this blog is really for me.  A running commentary of my thoughts, my ideas, and my processes.  My artistic SOP, if you will.  A place to hold myself accountable for my failures, to analyze my successes, and jot down those journeys my mind takes down one rabbit hole or another.

Should be fun!  I hope…