I think the reason I'm having problems moving forward with my new play is because I'm not done with my old one; I keep wanting to write but every time I put my fingers in front of that new world, they seem to tense up. I learnt this in January when I re-read my first script; why did I think it wouldn't apply to my second one?
I'm relieved as a cat that sees something important and then shortly thereafter thinks, "Well, I could just sleep."
Showing posts with label i'm so excited for everything. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i'm so excited for everything. Show all posts
Thursday, April 05, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
with a different hat.
Some of the things I love about theatre is the overlapping edges of each specialty within the discipline mixed with the openness, or encouragement for experimentation amongst practitioners. Although some people do like to specialise in one particular role, by no means is this a universal quality. Most of the people I know involved with theatre would label themselves under the general umbrella of being a “theatre practitioner.” They dabble in set design, lighting design and stage management. They explore acting and directing and maybe costume design on the side.
Which is as they should; the pursuit of theatre needs to take many different parties into consideration whilst creating the product (the set designer, for example, must take the actors into consideration because they’ll be the ones playing on it, the lighting into consideration as to work together to achieve the effects desired, the play into consideration to create the most faithful interpretation of the script’s world, and the audience for visibility, sight lines, and overall impression, etc.). Every aspect forces us to think differently and to look at something through an alternative pair of eyes. I find this to be absolutely necessary practice in, not just the arts, but daily life; keeping your mind thinking on one channel for too long is bound to close it (think Rick Santorum on women’s liberties or Rob Ford on subways).
A friend of mine introduced me to the Six Thinking Hats philosophy by Edward de Bono, a philosophy designed for the critical examination of basically anything (she finds it useful as a tool to get students thinking about assignments in different ways) using a different coloured hat to represent different aspects of reasoning within the human brain (informative, creative, emotional, etc.). While the actual aspects of reasoning I won’t concern myself with here, I do enjoy the image of different hats representing different ways of thinking (as I’m sure most of us in theatre have heard someone say, “Let me put on my director’s hat for a minute”).
Being trained in collective creation, or devised theatre, I often find myself concerned with every aspect of a show at all times. What I’ve realised within the past year is that narrowing my focus to one specialised aspect is astonishingly freeing.
But in order to do this, I actually have to tell myself to put on another hat (or walk a mile in a different pair of shoes… or see the world through different eyes… whatever image gets this to work for you).
The most common hats I try on, in order or frequency, are playwright, performer, dramaturge and director. This last one is my least experienced one but also the entire reason I’m writing this.
Performer and dramaturge are ranked very close together for me. Neither of them would I say I excel at, but I will say that with them I hit my mark every so often - enough for me to want to keep practising them.
In all of these roles I am often asked to give my opinion. It is when this happens that I find it easy to lose sight of the exact specialty I’m supposed to be, or of which hat I should be wearing. Because no matter what I tell myself, I do love to talk about my thoughts (case in point: this blog).
IN PROGRESS
Specifically talking as a playwright, or about a play “in progress,” it’s easy to realise that people look at a work in progress as being easily mouldable and/or something they can help influence. Often during the reception of this push-to-help, the playwright can easily become defensive, dismissive or emotional, even if the help is offered in the most innocent of ways. Sometimes these interactions are confusing for both parties, yet it’s really unclear why. It seems like a simple relationship: you’ve asked someone for their input and they gave it to you. They are doing exactly what you’ve asked. It doesn’t seem logical to get angry at someone because they’ve followed orders.
But that’s not it, is it?
At this point you’ve opened yourself up. Writers are notorious for wearing their emotions on their sleeves and, I mean, why shouldn’t they? They just spent anywhere from a few months to a few years by themselves working on the next Governor General’s winning piece of theatre. Of course they want the first people they show it to after leaving their dank hole of an office (read: cafe / basement apartment) to shower them with praise. But it’s not that easy, is it? Not only is it not that easy, that would probably be detrimental to the development of any future work coming out of that particular author (READER: It’s perfect! WRITER: Oh no, am I at the peak of my career? How can I improve on PERFECT???).
This is probably the most challenging part in the development of a play (in my opinion) because now you are not just concerned with your play, you are also concerned with what other people think of your play. While it may not sound it, this is quite the dangerous situation to be in. It’s during this time that it is all to easy for the playwright to lose sight of their own intentions as they are continuously bombarded with thoughts, ideas and viewpoints they themselves had never had. It becomes all to easy to concern yourself with appeasing your new audience instead of appeasing yourself (I am aware of how masturbatory this sounds). Now, this is not to say “fuck what they want, I’ma do what I want.” That won’t get you any fans, friends or, really, anyone to care about you. A play isn’t a play without an audience, after all. What I’m saying is it’s important to realise what feedback from your target audience will actually, legitimately help you as opposed to what was subjective to just one person. And that’s where it gets tricky and dangerous. As it goes, we’ll all develop our own methods of dealing with this in the most effective way possible. I’m still having trouble finding my own. The only one I’ve found to work 100% of the time is by giving the whole process time itself, however I am aware that distancing by a factor of time won’t always be in the equation. So the search continues.
THE DIRECTOR’S HAT WOULD BE A… WHAT? A BASEBALL CAP?
I’ve been thinking about this because I’ve recently put on my director’s hat to re-read a play (VIC HARBOUR by Peter Counter) I’ll be directing for this year’s Toronto Fringe Festival. Last time I read it I used this hat as well, but underneath it I still had my dramaturge’s hat on (I picture that one as a beret). Which was important for me at the time because that read was still about feedback and questioning choices. Even with this knowledge, however, I feel I still fell into the trap of just saying things because I like the sound of my voice (this is why I’m not a professional dramaturge). I still felt, like many of us do when asked to give feedback to a piece of art, that this is still mouldable, and that nothing is set in stone.
I’m going to guess that these ways of thinking are only possible when you personally know the artist. Physical distance and anonymity quickly disperse these thoughts, waving them away like the smoke from a stranger’s cigarette. It’s amazing how differently I approach something my friends send me through email compared to a printed, bound book or published play that was written at the same time. Something that gets lost all to easily when thinking with those two thoughts in hand (‘this is still mouldable’ & ‘nothing is set in stone’) is subtlety. I believe I found the subtlety the last time I read Counter’s script.
Which is as they should; the pursuit of theatre needs to take many different parties into consideration whilst creating the product (the set designer, for example, must take the actors into consideration because they’ll be the ones playing on it, the lighting into consideration as to work together to achieve the effects desired, the play into consideration to create the most faithful interpretation of the script’s world, and the audience for visibility, sight lines, and overall impression, etc.). Every aspect forces us to think differently and to look at something through an alternative pair of eyes. I find this to be absolutely necessary practice in, not just the arts, but daily life; keeping your mind thinking on one channel for too long is bound to close it (think Rick Santorum on women’s liberties or Rob Ford on subways).
A friend of mine introduced me to the Six Thinking Hats philosophy by Edward de Bono, a philosophy designed for the critical examination of basically anything (she finds it useful as a tool to get students thinking about assignments in different ways) using a different coloured hat to represent different aspects of reasoning within the human brain (informative, creative, emotional, etc.). While the actual aspects of reasoning I won’t concern myself with here, I do enjoy the image of different hats representing different ways of thinking (as I’m sure most of us in theatre have heard someone say, “Let me put on my director’s hat for a minute”).
Being trained in collective creation, or devised theatre, I often find myself concerned with every aspect of a show at all times. What I’ve realised within the past year is that narrowing my focus to one specialised aspect is astonishingly freeing.
But in order to do this, I actually have to tell myself to put on another hat (or walk a mile in a different pair of shoes… or see the world through different eyes… whatever image gets this to work for you).
The most common hats I try on, in order or frequency, are playwright, performer, dramaturge and director. This last one is my least experienced one but also the entire reason I’m writing this.
Performer and dramaturge are ranked very close together for me. Neither of them would I say I excel at, but I will say that with them I hit my mark every so often - enough for me to want to keep practising them.
In all of these roles I am often asked to give my opinion. It is when this happens that I find it easy to lose sight of the exact specialty I’m supposed to be, or of which hat I should be wearing. Because no matter what I tell myself, I do love to talk about my thoughts (case in point: this blog).
IN PROGRESS
Specifically talking as a playwright, or about a play “in progress,” it’s easy to realise that people look at a work in progress as being easily mouldable and/or something they can help influence. Often during the reception of this push-to-help, the playwright can easily become defensive, dismissive or emotional, even if the help is offered in the most innocent of ways. Sometimes these interactions are confusing for both parties, yet it’s really unclear why. It seems like a simple relationship: you’ve asked someone for their input and they gave it to you. They are doing exactly what you’ve asked. It doesn’t seem logical to get angry at someone because they’ve followed orders.
But that’s not it, is it?
At this point you’ve opened yourself up. Writers are notorious for wearing their emotions on their sleeves and, I mean, why shouldn’t they? They just spent anywhere from a few months to a few years by themselves working on the next Governor General’s winning piece of theatre. Of course they want the first people they show it to after leaving their dank hole of an office (read: cafe / basement apartment) to shower them with praise. But it’s not that easy, is it? Not only is it not that easy, that would probably be detrimental to the development of any future work coming out of that particular author (READER: It’s perfect! WRITER: Oh no, am I at the peak of my career? How can I improve on PERFECT???).
This is probably the most challenging part in the development of a play (in my opinion) because now you are not just concerned with your play, you are also concerned with what other people think of your play. While it may not sound it, this is quite the dangerous situation to be in. It’s during this time that it is all to easy for the playwright to lose sight of their own intentions as they are continuously bombarded with thoughts, ideas and viewpoints they themselves had never had. It becomes all to easy to concern yourself with appeasing your new audience instead of appeasing yourself (I am aware of how masturbatory this sounds). Now, this is not to say “fuck what they want, I’ma do what I want.” That won’t get you any fans, friends or, really, anyone to care about you. A play isn’t a play without an audience, after all. What I’m saying is it’s important to realise what feedback from your target audience will actually, legitimately help you as opposed to what was subjective to just one person. And that’s where it gets tricky and dangerous. As it goes, we’ll all develop our own methods of dealing with this in the most effective way possible. I’m still having trouble finding my own. The only one I’ve found to work 100% of the time is by giving the whole process time itself, however I am aware that distancing by a factor of time won’t always be in the equation. So the search continues.
THE DIRECTOR’S HAT WOULD BE A… WHAT? A BASEBALL CAP?
I’ve been thinking about this because I’ve recently put on my director’s hat to re-read a play (VIC HARBOUR by Peter Counter) I’ll be directing for this year’s Toronto Fringe Festival. Last time I read it I used this hat as well, but underneath it I still had my dramaturge’s hat on (I picture that one as a beret). Which was important for me at the time because that read was still about feedback and questioning choices. Even with this knowledge, however, I feel I still fell into the trap of just saying things because I like the sound of my voice (this is why I’m not a professional dramaturge). I still felt, like many of us do when asked to give feedback to a piece of art, that this is still mouldable, and that nothing is set in stone.
I’m going to guess that these ways of thinking are only possible when you personally know the artist. Physical distance and anonymity quickly disperse these thoughts, waving them away like the smoke from a stranger’s cigarette. It’s amazing how differently I approach something my friends send me through email compared to a printed, bound book or published play that was written at the same time. Something that gets lost all to easily when thinking with those two thoughts in hand (‘this is still mouldable’ & ‘nothing is set in stone’) is subtlety. I believe I found the subtlety the last time I read Counter’s script.
…once you realise this artist is not just living and currently re-writing the script but has created a piece of art because he has made choices long before your eyes ever laid upon the words and that the reasons for those choices are to be found all throughout the play, then I believe you’ve written off most of your subjectivity and can fully appreciate the work of art in front of you…So instead of asking the writer why he made certain choices, ask yourself why the characters are making those choices. Just because the writer is alive doesn’t mean you should defer to them every time you run into a problem (unless it is horribly obvious or just completely missing). It’s the same way you’d approach something by a dead author (no matter how often you write him, Shakespeare will not answer your questions). Writers are clever and they like (read: love) to leave clues for you (it’s actually kind of sick the amount of pleasure it gives them). Approach the work as if you don’t know the person holding the pen. Because in all honesty, the author’s done their work. Unless they demand to be there every step of the way (which is a whole other topic of conversation) when rehearsals begin, the director, the actors and everyone involved should consider the script set in stone. It is time to stop moulding. It is time to let the script mould you.
Monday, January 30, 2012
a play remembered.
It's amazing to realise a play isn't finished. I'm currently revisiting a play I started, maybe four years ago now, and the characters are still as fresh in my mind as they were when I was figuring them out. It's amazing to be able to pick them up again as if I never stopped writing them. I feel this is the mark of in-completion; their story is not finished. Never was. They're still trying to tell it to me. And when I re-read the play last night, my first time in, I'll say about half a year, their voices were so clear and strong that they let me know right away what was wrong with it.
What didn't fit.
Now I'm re-writing. Changing. Creating new scenes. Now I'm listening to them again.
I'm happy as a wee dog.
What didn't fit.
Now I'm re-writing. Changing. Creating new scenes. Now I'm listening to them again.
I'm happy as a wee dog.
Monday, January 24, 2011
they're on to me.
I had no idea my previous writings were already part of a legitimate field of study. Cyborg Anthropology.
Fascinating idea of the "second self" and the necessary time for reflection. It happens to me all the time. Only when I have time off, when those external factors are at a rest can I upkeep my online persona, can I tailor my second self to the rest of the world.
It's communication at a heightened degree - communication on multiple planes of existence - and the most exciting thing is that we can navigate life between them successfully! (most of us any way... let's not mention that Korean couple who let their baby starve... I mean... shit...)
...you can stand on one side of the world, whisper something, and be heard on the other...
It's odd to think of people interacting with you when you're asleep. Offline. Whatever.
Fascinating idea of the "second self" and the necessary time for reflection. It happens to me all the time. Only when I have time off, when those external factors are at a rest can I upkeep my online persona, can I tailor my second self to the rest of the world.
It's communication at a heightened degree - communication on multiple planes of existence - and the most exciting thing is that we can navigate life between them successfully! (most of us any way... let's not mention that Korean couple who let their baby starve... I mean... shit...)
...you can stand on one side of the world, whisper something, and be heard on the other...
It's odd to think of people interacting with you when you're asleep. Offline. Whatever.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
musings from another world.
After connecting my living to a series of programs and devices, and while I was watching a particularly technically-troubled production last week (just missed cues which really embarrassed me; and I was only an audience member! The show itself really is something special and I will recommend it to all without mentioning it here) I began thinking about theatre’s place in the entertainment realm. My immediate response to the technical issues in the aforementioned show was: “Really? It’s opening night for God’s sake.” And then I looked around and realised, yes, it is opening night and the audience is full of theatre people (usually the norm, no?). As the play is of such a large scale that more people sitting in the audience probably have a hand in it than are on stage (or maybe about the same number, it does have an impressively large cast) obviously these little issues are more easily overlooked. I mean, it is one of the worst things to experience as an actor: when something completely out of your control goes awry. When we, the audience, see the characters flicker and the actor just standing there, powerless, trying not to let the red rush to their cheeks. After all, “We’ve all been there,” but how does this look to someone in the audience just trying to enjoy a show?
A few days ago while scouring my favourite theatre blogs and I came across this at 2AMt. Near the end of the post Gwydion states: “After all, we’re not making theater for each other… or if we are, we shouldn’t be.” I realise my embarrassment the other night came because I sat in the mostly-theatre-peopled-audience with someone just trying to enjoy a show. I was excited for her to experience the best of what local theatre has to offer. And those little technicalities were, as I said before, embarrassing. I mean, if the editors messed up the final cut of a movie and the credits started rolling over top the climax, or a blooper were accidentally kept in, audience members generally wouldn't be thinking, "Oh, don't you just hate when that happens? Better luck on your next film." In many cases they'd demand their money back and the film would be ridiculed.
So where does this bring me? Well, believe it or not, I'm not actually here to talk about my own standards for theatre (my seat-mate, by-the-way, loved the show and wasn't at all bothered by the technical miscues). This post is actually about something that really excites, and saddens me in theatre: the integration of new technology. If anyone has seen a Robert Lepage or an Electric Company production you'll automatically get my excitement.
My sadness however comes because so many theatre artists are of the mindset that less is more when considering the technical elements of a play. One main reason behind this is that of funding. Technology is expensive and takes time to do right. In such a rushed setting that most small, independent theatre finds itself having a show heavily depend on its technology will only tread rough water. And you're left with a choice: what should we do? Should we push through even if we know we will not have the necessary time to rehearse with it? Or would the show just be better without it?
Another big reason behind the less is more mindset is a lack of general experience with incorporating technology into live performance. And that’s understandable: a director’s main focus, especially of fledgling directors, is to the live, breathing actors in front of them. This is one of the reasons I, and so many others, fall head-over-heels for theatre: because it doesn’t rely on the “wow” factor the latest technology can offer; meaning you don’t need to shell out a couple extra dollars to rent a pair of silly-looking glasses to watch a play in 3D. Thank God (for more on theatre's "wow" factors read Howard Sherman’s article in American Theatre Wing).
Wouldn’t it be less stressing, though, if a director’s, or a theatre’s or an actor’s ability to utilise technology to their advantage came second nature? I have a feeling it would.
The accessibility of current technology (for integration into live performance) is extremely limited.
Now, I don’t mean to undermine the actor’s importance with the introduction of layers of technology; I mean to introduce another playing field, another plane of existence to interact with (and even this I don’t mean on, or with, all theatre. The diversity of performance styles is what makes this medium the most interesting on the planet). As technology evolves and becomes more commonplace in all aspects of existence theatre must grow to mirror it. If it doesn't how can it hope to stay relevant? The internet has created an amazing and inclusive interplay between artists of all walks in all corners of the world possible. This is 2011. This is the technological age. We need to embrace it if we want to expand and reach other audiences. Accessibility is key and the most accessible thing in the world, digitally speaking, is the internet. Let’s use it to our advantage to get new faces in our theatre's seats. Let's use it to create a truly unique performance style you can't experience anywhere else. Let's make this decade exciting.
---
To read more about the possibilities of all this there’s an exciting interview with Siminovitch Prize-Winning Director Kim Collier over at Praxis Theatre. I get weak in the knees just reading it.
---
UPDATE: Just found a symposium happening this Saturday, Jan. 15th @ York University on this very topic. It's an all day event and the best part is that registration is free! Click here for more information. Sadly enough I won't be able to attend but would love to hear about how it goes!
A few days ago while scouring my favourite theatre blogs and I came across this at 2AMt. Near the end of the post Gwydion states: “After all, we’re not making theater for each other… or if we are, we shouldn’t be.” I realise my embarrassment the other night came because I sat in the mostly-theatre-peopled-audience with someone just trying to enjoy a show. I was excited for her to experience the best of what local theatre has to offer. And those little technicalities were, as I said before, embarrassing. I mean, if the editors messed up the final cut of a movie and the credits started rolling over top the climax, or a blooper were accidentally kept in, audience members generally wouldn't be thinking, "Oh, don't you just hate when that happens? Better luck on your next film." In many cases they'd demand their money back and the film would be ridiculed.
So where does this bring me? Well, believe it or not, I'm not actually here to talk about my own standards for theatre (my seat-mate, by-the-way, loved the show and wasn't at all bothered by the technical miscues). This post is actually about something that really excites, and saddens me in theatre: the integration of new technology. If anyone has seen a Robert Lepage or an Electric Company production you'll automatically get my excitement.
My sadness however comes because so many theatre artists are of the mindset that less is more when considering the technical elements of a play. One main reason behind this is that of funding. Technology is expensive and takes time to do right. In such a rushed setting that most small, independent theatre finds itself having a show heavily depend on its technology will only tread rough water. And you're left with a choice: what should we do? Should we push through even if we know we will not have the necessary time to rehearse with it? Or would the show just be better without it?
Another big reason behind the less is more mindset is a lack of general experience with incorporating technology into live performance. And that’s understandable: a director’s main focus, especially of fledgling directors, is to the live, breathing actors in front of them. This is one of the reasons I, and so many others, fall head-over-heels for theatre: because it doesn’t rely on the “wow” factor the latest technology can offer; meaning you don’t need to shell out a couple extra dollars to rent a pair of silly-looking glasses to watch a play in 3D. Thank God (for more on theatre's "wow" factors read Howard Sherman’s article in American Theatre Wing).
Wouldn’t it be less stressing, though, if a director’s, or a theatre’s or an actor’s ability to utilise technology to their advantage came second nature? I have a feeling it would.
The accessibility of current technology (for integration into live performance) is extremely limited.
Now, I don’t mean to undermine the actor’s importance with the introduction of layers of technology; I mean to introduce another playing field, another plane of existence to interact with (and even this I don’t mean on, or with, all theatre. The diversity of performance styles is what makes this medium the most interesting on the planet). As technology evolves and becomes more commonplace in all aspects of existence theatre must grow to mirror it. If it doesn't how can it hope to stay relevant? The internet has created an amazing and inclusive interplay between artists of all walks in all corners of the world possible. This is 2011. This is the technological age. We need to embrace it if we want to expand and reach other audiences. Accessibility is key and the most accessible thing in the world, digitally speaking, is the internet. Let’s use it to our advantage to get new faces in our theatre's seats. Let's use it to create a truly unique performance style you can't experience anywhere else. Let's make this decade exciting.
---
To read more about the possibilities of all this there’s an exciting interview with Siminovitch Prize-Winning Director Kim Collier over at Praxis Theatre. I get weak in the knees just reading it.
---
UPDATE: Just found a symposium happening this Saturday, Jan. 15th @ York University on this very topic. It's an all day event and the best part is that registration is free! Click here for more information. Sadly enough I won't be able to attend but would love to hear about how it goes!
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