Category Archives: Administrative

The 5 Stages of Post-Show Grief

*Yeah, I picked a House picture because I like Hugh Laurie and it has the 5 stages listed. It doesn’t really have anything to do with this post…

 

Ok, so as I believe I mentioned, I was expecting post Fringe to be double whamm-ied on the whole “my show is over, what am I doing with my life” thing. Usually I have a good 1-2 months of depression after a show but because I did Persuasion and In the Ebb back to back with no depression down time, I figured I was due for a good 2-4 months of blahs. And, guess what? I was right. So the last three months have been a bit on the tough side for me. Add to that the fact that I turned 40 during that time and yes, it’s been a rocky few months. But! There’s good news on the horizon, Fringe ended on August 26th so I am well past the 2 month mark and am pretty sure that I’m passed the worst of the doldrums. I spent this weekend feeling motivated and I have jumped into planning for what promises to be a really exciting year for GTTP. So that is good news and, in the next few weeks, you will be hearing about lots of exciting things happening on our little island.

However, during these last 3 months, I did a lot of thinking and I realized that even this post show thing follows the 5 stages of grief. Because, although thankfully, it is not the same as losing someone you care about, a show ending is its own little death. You know there will be other shows and you know you’ll have fun again, but that show, with those people, that exact experience is gone forever and will never come again…and that, ladies and gents? That’s super sad. So with that in mind, here are the five stages of grief in the post show world…

Denial – “No, the show isn’t over. It’s not gone. I’m fine. We’re all fine. The cast and crew is doing a party tonight and we’re going to get together once a week forever and it’s going to be exactly the same.”  Or, even better, “We’re going to do a revival of this exact show with this exact cast and crew and the fun is never going to end!”

Anger – “How can this be happening to me? How DARE the show has ended! Those bastards (yeah I don’t know which bastards I’m referring to) have never understood my art! Why does this always happen to me?”

Bargaining – “I’ll do anything to keep doing this show. If I promise to really appreciate it this time, it can keep going right?”

Depression – “This sucks. I’ll never do another show again…”

Acceptance – “It’s going to be ok. There will be more shows and it’s time to get started on the next one.”

What I’ve found to be particularly difficult is the depression stage. For me, the first 3 stages happen relatively  quickly (like a couple of days) and the acceptance stage happens in the blink of an eye but the depression, that’s what really gets you. Because it’s not just that you feel sad. I mean sadness is definitely a part of it, but you start to feel unmotivated and if you’re not careful, you spin into this emotional space where everything you do or consider doing seems futile. Because, you know, you ain’t curing cancer, folks. You’re just telling your little story. Don’t get me wrong, I think story telling is important. OBVIOUSLY I think story telling is important – I mean I have devoted my career to it and it is something I’m really good at so yes, I think it’s important. But, in the midst of one of these post show depressions you can’t help (at least I can’t) but think:

Hmm. So I struggle and I fight and I rehearse and I plan and I raise money and I make it happen and I do a show.

And people like it.

And then it ends.

And I’m right back where I started.

It’s kind of like the Tetris game to end all Tetris games. I mean, ok, I got the highest score I’ve ever gotten, but in the end the board will in fact fill with little pieces and the game will end and I’ll just start it again. And you can’t help but have that moment when you think, “so why even bother?” And it becomes really hard to push yourself to jump into the  next project – even if it’s something you’re excited about. Even if it’s something you’ve been wanting to do for months on end. And that’s why for me the depression is the hardest and longest stage. Of course, invariably, there comes that moment when it hits you that the reason you bother is because it does matter. It does make a difference. You affected someone (sometimes a bunch of someones) with what you did. No, you didn’t cure cancer but you entertained and you made someone think or laugh or cry or all three. And that does matter. And, if these are the skills you were blessed with then it is an affront to nature to not use them.

I still remember the first time I did In the Ebb with GTTP. It was our first show and it was the first of my post show depressions that my husband (not yet my husband at the time) witnessed firsthand and I remember saying something melodramatic and silly to him like, “why do I even bother? It’s not like I’ve done anything important.” And he said, “what are you talking about? You entertained people and moved them. You introduced them to this beautiful language, to these amazing performances and characters. You helped bring these concepts and ideas out into the world. This idea of the Never. This character of the Waterlogged Woman. You brought them to life and now, for everyone who was involved in the show and for everyone who saw it, you made these little changes in how they see the world. How can you think that’s not important?” Well, along with making me decide I wanted to marry him, my husband showed me  things from a different perspective. No, my stories are not going to save lives but I believe, for the short time we’re on this earth, what matters most is how we affect other people and whether the cast, crew, and audience are big or small, all those people are affected by what we do. Recognizing that is what usually pulls me out of these post show slumps. Of course, it can’t be forced. You can know it in your head but if it takes a month (or four if it’s post back to back shows) to know it in your heart than that’s what it takes. All you can do is all you can ever do – hang in there and take the ride where it takes you.

Ten things I learned doing The NY International Fringe Festival…

Ok, so I have owed my trusty readers (hi, Mom!) a post for about a month now. I do apologize for being so absent from the blogosphere but it turns out Fringe took a lot more out of me then expected and when the past few Mondays rolled around I just didn’t have it in me to compose something witty and exciting for a post and so I didn’t … I actually did start 4 different posts and if I could figure out a way to back date them I would totally post them but since I can’t I’ll just say they started like this:

POST 1 (that didn’t get posted) – so, we’re about to open In the Ebb at HERE Mainstage and I can’t wait for you all to see it.

POST 2 (that didn’t get posted) – so, we just opened In the Ebb at HERE Mainstage and I think you guys will love it!

POST 3 (that didn’t get posted) – so, the reviewer from nytheatre.com didn’t get it. Though he thought In the Ebb was beautifully written, Camilla “has a poetic soul” and I have “a true talent for staging”, he thought the show was boring and he didn’t find the themes universal or connectable (yes, I made up that word but that’s the gist of the review – fear of loss apparently isn’t a universal theme – oops, I guess that makes the worrier in me a bit of a freak). ANYway, I would have said in the post (had I gotten around to posting it) that I would be worried that the review would have kept folks away, but I can now say in hindsight that we had decent audiences (not Jane Austen’s Persuasion sized audiences but decent all the same) and everyone I talked to seemed to love it so, to quote Mrs. DiSalvo in Act II – “I guess we did ok.”

POST 4 (that didn’t get posted) – so, the reviewer from California Litereary Review TOTALLY got it. Now THAT’s what I call a review. I found this one much more reflective of the work we did on stage. Though there were a couple of typos in the review (Saul Steinberg instead of Stewart and Ian DeNio instead of Ien) I felt that this reviewer actually got what we were saying. He caught the beauty in the words and the performances, and he ALSO understood Camilla’s humor finding much of the play “extremely funny even as it peers into the abyss.” I do wish that the people who “got me” were the only ones who also got to review me, but again to quote Mrs. DiSalvo, “you don’t get to pick.”

which brings me to this post:

POST 5 (that WILL get posted) – So now Fringe is over. It has been such a whirlwind. Going from Persuasion directly into In the Ebb is not necessarily the way I’d recommend doing the Festival for the first time, but on the flip side, it was nice to just go from show to show instead of hanging around waiting for my next project to begin. It means I completely bypassed my “post show depression” after Persuasion. Of course that could also mean that I’m due for a double whammy on the depression front now that In the Ebb is over, but hopefully I’ll slide into something else really exciting – like adapting Within Arm’s Reach for the stage. Anywho, here’s what I learned in Fringe:

1) Before you have a cast, reading the play out loud at a very slow speed is NOT going to give you an accurate representation of how long the play will run in performance.

- Fringe requires you to give a running time in your application, and though you still have time to change that after you get accepted to the festival, the date when you do have to give them a hard – set-in-stone – run time will most likely be at least a month before you’ve cast the show, let alone done a first run through and have an accurate sense of the run time. I had originally thought the run time of the two one acts (one fewer act than the first time I did this show) would be 75 minutes INCLUDING a 10 minute intermission. I discovered 2 days before my tech that we were running about 95 minutes WITHOUT an intermission. That was a weekend of frantic cuts trying not to cut scenes but still lose 20 minutes from the show. One day, I vow that I will do this show in its entirety.

2) A certified Flameproofer is your best friend!

- Fringe requires that all set pieces be certified flameproof. Although my set was stuff that was most likely already flameproofed (Ikea chairs and rehearsal cubes) I needed proof and that means tags from purchase (which ain’t an option since I purchased the chairs years ago for use in the first production of In the Ebb). One option was to cart the stuff out to New Jersey and have the Fringe-recommended vendor test the stuff and if it wasn’t fireproof then I could leave it there for 3 DAYS – yup DAYS – and then head back out there and pick it up. Then I found someone who was Manhattan-based and let me tell you – finding someone who can come to you and flameproof your set and give you a certificate proving that it’s flameproofed is a whole helluva lot better than having to cart your entire set out to Jersey.

3) Get yourself some good, talented, reliable friends.

- Throughout the years I have connected with some people who I can’t imagine stumbling through life without. Sarah and Ian, for example, not only said I could borrow one of their DINING ROOM chairs for a WHOLE MONTH, they didn’t bat an eye when I said I would have to chemically treat the chair so that it was officially flame proofed. When I asked if I could rent his rehearsal cubes for 3 weeks, Richard was all “why don’t you just borrow them” and, Jen, once again, offered up the Chevy Blazer to be used and abused for whatever I needed, which it turned out was a lot of set, prop and costume transportation.

4) Work with talented people you trust and love – again and again and again.

- My crazy talented sound designer, Ien DeNio, crazy talented lighting designer, Sam Gordon, crazy talented projections designer, Zeljka Blaksic, and crazy talented company manager, Carrie Keskinen, all re-upped with GTTP and I literally could NOT have done this show without them. Their talent, skill, and professionalism made this show work! And their ability to roll with the punches (see Number 6) meant that we were able to function within the stressful time-compressed world of Fringe.

5) Make sure you cast riDONKulously capable and talented actors who work well together!

- I’ve known for awhile that I’m pretty good at casting. I can usually see in an audition what an actor will be capable of and I usually have a sense of whether a group of actors will work together well. It’s a wonderful thing, a real honor, to get the opportunity to bring together 7 strangers and watch them, through rehearsals, turn into a family. This most recent family included: Crawford M. Collins, Leah Gabriel, Mary Goggin, Michael Komala, Stewart Steinberg, Montgomery Sutton, and Lisa Crosby Wipperling.

6) Hook up with a group that is calm under pressure and be ready to figure out technical aspects on the fly…

- So, for those of you who don’t know, the way Fringe works (in fact the way most theater festivals work) is that you are really assigned only one chance to be in the venue before your show opens and that chance is your tech rehearsal. In the case of Fringe, your tech rehearsal is only 2 times the length of your running time (see point #1 in this list and the importance of determining that run time well in advance of rehearsals) and you must must must run through the entire show without stop so that the Fringe folks can time you (with a stopwatch) and know for certain that you’ll fit in your allotted time. Since tech for a normal show is usually at least 3 days and often as long as a week (it’s called Tech WEEK for a reason, folks) having only 2 and a half hours in the venue to tech your show can make for a tricky situation. Add to that the complication that, because of Fringe scheduling, our tech day was actually a full week before our first performance, there was a high amount of stress on that particular 2.5 hours. What’s more, because we were the first group to tech in the space, we spent what should have been our hour and 15 minutes that was set aside for a cue to cue (where we actually go through the entire play just looking at and listening to each lighting, sound and projection cue) figuring out why the projector wasn’t working and how lights in the theater (whose layout we were supposed to be given in advance but weren’t) were going to run our lighting design. SO, having the cast and crew that I had – a group of people who just went with the flow and didn’t pull any diva crap (though it was well within their rights to do so) and just buckled down and did the job – what’s that Friday Night Lights phrase – “git ‘er done” – well this group GOT ‘ER DONE!

7) Get assigned the prettiest venue at the festival and luck out on the awesomest, chillest, terrific-est venue director on the planet.

- So, as a Fringe show, you get no say in the venue you’re assigned. Basically, the festival organizers have to figure out how to get 187 shows into 19 different venues for at least 5 performances each in a 16 day span. Each venue has to be technically capable of sustaining each show (does a show have projections, does it need fly space to drop set pieces in and out, does it need a proscenium arch, etc.) They also have to account for scheduling issues (for example, is the production company coming from Japan and not arriving in the states until 4 days after the festival has started). It’s a lot to juggle, so basically what you get is what you get and you make due. Well, somehow, I lucked into the most beautiful venue. HERE Arts Mainstage is a theater that if I were just renting, I honestly couldn’t afford for years to come. It’s a 99 seat house with a stage so big that an actor actually has to cross it (like take several steps) when moving from stage left to stage right, instead of just turning around. And the lighting grid allows for different areas of the stage to be lit while other areas are in darkness – giving actual areas of playing space instead of having the whole stage lit by default because the stage is so big that once you turn on a light you see everything. And then, as if the performance venue weren’t enough of a gift from the Fringe Gods, we were lucky enough to get assigned a venue director (a liason (supplied by Fringe) between the production company (in this case, GTTP) and the theater) who was amazing, supportive and super chill. I can not say enough good things about Christian De Gre, Artistic Director of Mind the Art Entertainment, who, while being such a terrific venue director was also overseeing his own production at the festival. The only bad thing about working with Christian, was that the nature of Fringe meant I didn’t get any time to just sit and chat with the guy – a problem I hope to remedy soon.

8) 15 minutes is a both a lot longer and a lot shorter than you think it is.

- So, because there are 187 shows in 19 venues in 16 days, on any given day, you are never the only show performing in your venue. What that means is that there is often as little as 30 minutes in between shows. Because 15 minutes before any given show has to be spent getting audience in and sitting down and 15 minutes after any show has to be spent getting audience out, as a production company you only have 15 minutes to bring everything you need into the space before and clear everything out after. We were lucky in that our set pieces (my trusty ikea chairs and our 3 rehearsal cubes) were being shared with other shows in the venue so we were able to leave them in the space, but all of our props, costumes and, you know, 7 actors, had to get in and set up in the 15 minutes before and taken down, stored and out in the 15 minutes after. I did purposefully keep the set as minimal as possible, but that first time, in tech, when we literally had a stopwatch on us, the chaos of setting everything up and taking everything down was nervewracking…then again, it turns out that even that first time when no-one knew what they were doing (“someone grab that chair and stow it”, “who grabbed the ice tea”, “where did the nun’s veil go? Do you have it?”) we were done and out the door in 6 minutes, so we got really good at running that load-in and load-out like clockwork. Again, it helped that I had the cast and crew that I did (see points 4 and 5 above).

9) Simplify more than you think is possible and then simplify some more.

- So, as I mentioned above, we only had the 15 minutes to get in and out and our tech rehearsal was…not as thorough as I would have liked, and…the script was longer than I realized. In the end we cut a lot – from lines in the script, to number of props, to complexity of set design, to lighting, sound and projection cues. And just when I thought, “I can’t possibly cut more, I can’t possibly make it more minimal,” I went through a whole other round of cuts and, to be honest, it was still an amazing, wonderful, vivid show. I always go back to that first time I saw Patrick Stewart do A Christmas Carol on Broadway – one guy, a chair, a table, a stool and a podium – he created a world that we as the audience got to live in for a couple of hours. It really is true that if the writing is there and the performances are there, you really don’t need anything else. This world ofIn the Ebb, was vivid and alive even without matching chairs and that one additional sound cue or lighting change. The audience still got it (well, except for that one reviewer but you can’t win ‘em all, right?) and it was still a captivating – Tahiti – Production.

10) When you’re at your most certain that everything will fall to s**t, it somehow all works out.

- My favorite, favorite, favorite quote about theater comes from the movie Shakespeare in Love. The exchange goes like this:

Henslowe: Allow me to explain about the theatre business. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.

Fennyman: So what do we do?

Henslowe: Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.

Fennyman: How?

Henslowe: I don’t know. It’s a mystery.

If I have learned one thing in my years in professionial theater it is the truth of that exchange. It’s not that you don’t do the work and it’s not that you don’t plan and prepare and rehearse, but in the end you have to trust in the magic of theater because how imminent disaster turns into live performance is truly a mystery but, no kidding? 99 times out of 100 it really does…and on that hundredth time? Well that’s what you plan and prepare and rehearse for – Anyone can have an off day.

Oh, and along those lines I also want to quote one more movie for point number 10.5. This one from Galazy Quest – “Never give up. Never surrender.” In other words, in this case, I mean:

10.5) Perserverence is everything.

- There are so many times in this business when it would be so easy to just say, “that’s it, I’m outta here.” It’s a tough business, which so far, has not paid any bills for me (and thank you to the people in my life who support me in all different ways (emotionally, spiritually, physically and monetarily) and allow me to continue doing it – I literally couldn’t do it without you), and so often it would just be easier to throw up your hands and walk, but I swear, it’s worth it. You struggle, and you strive and sometimes you fail but sometimes you succeed and every once in awhile, someone comes up to you and says, “are you involved in this production? Well, I just want to tell you, that was WONDERFUL! I was so moved.” Or you’re sitting in the audience watching a show you created and an audience member who you don’t know, who is not connected to you in any way shape or form, who walked in off the street, and spent his hard-earned money to see your show, he starts to applaud and gets to his feet to give you a standing ovation! And in that moment you want to cry because all is right with the world, because your life makes sense and what you’ve been put on this earth for is absolutely 100% crystal clear…of course sometimes they don’t clap at all, sometimes they come up to you and say, “I didn’t get it” – you want to cry then too but for a whole different reason. But no kidding, if you stick with it, you’ll get used to walking away from the latter and you’ll be able to fully appreciate the former. I say this a lot but – no kidding – never give up. never surrender…it’s worth it in the end.

 

Loaded In…

Before I get into this week’s post, I wanted to just thanks everyone for showing up at our girst gala last weekend. It was a fantastic event filled with food, wine, live music, good company and great dancing…or, at least, enthusiastic dancing. :) And thank you to all of our sponsors. The event was a success because of your generosity!

So, now, on to tech week.

Day started with a realization of how to make a stale bagel taste almost fresh. Here’s how to do it*: Take your stale bagel and microwave it for 15 seconds. Flip it and microwave it again for 15 seconds. Take the bagel out of the microwave, cut it and toast it to desired done-ness. Put whatever topping on it you like and though it has a little bit of that rubbery texture, I challenge you to notice a huge difference between it and a fresh one…that being said, you have to start with a good, high quality bagel. Don’t grab one from dunkin donuts and expect this to work.

*this only works if you like toasted bagels.

Alas, but I digress. No actors today so we just focused on load-in, which went really well:

Costumes came first and have been set up on their rack, ready to be tried on and adjusted at the costume parade tomorrow.

Laura and I cleaned out the backstage and set up the audience into it’s performance configuration (we’re doing something a little different with the seats and we needed to test it out today.) Test went well, looking forward to bringing in the actors.

Sam arrived to start the lighting hang and focus. I’m always amazed watching lighting designers scramble up and down ladders as if there’s nothing remotely uncomfortable about being 15 feet in the air.

Then came Zeljka. We tested the projector and went over notes to make sure we’re all on the same page. It’s getting exciting, people.

Jane came around 5 to pick up costumes that need repairs and alterations and we went through costume stuff together. Tomorrow, she’ll have a new batch of alterations to contend with but we should be in pretty decent shape.

After Jane, in came Ien. She buckled down with Qlab to start getting the cues loaded in. We were doing really well until the speakers turned themselves off, so that’s a problem for tomorrow, definitely.

And finally, Becky arrived, most of the set pieces in hand.  We tested out some paint for the set and got the pieces in place.

All in all, a VERY productive day.

Looking forward to the costume parade and the movement work with Dana tomorrow…not to mention the advances each department will make in their individual techs. And with that…to bed I’m away.

Will try to post another update tomorrow. It’s wild to have so much time for tech…wild and wonderful…but I guess tech is just one of those things – no matter how much time you have, you always want one day more…

Updates on Jane’s June…

Ok, so this blog post is a week late. I know I know – you’ve all been breathlessly anticipating an update on all things Tahiti. I can only excuse my absence from the interwebs last week by saying that in the midst of rehearsals for a show based on a book written by the queen of romance I took a week off from fictional romance to participate in real romance. Basically, last week, we added a new member to the Tahiti family – my younger sister Camilla, (whom many of you Tahiti followers know as the playwright of both In the Ebb and Skin Flesh Bone), got married last week and while I was reminiscing about (read: recovering from) an amazing party, I wasn’t in my Persuasion head space. However, a week of rehearsals and gala prep have brought me back to reality and I’m here to give you all some exciting updates!

First off – The Gala

photo by David Green

We have received an RSVP from our very own Jane Austen (actress, writer, teacher, director and producer, Karen Eterovich). Karen, whose production company Love Arm’d Productions focuses on promoting the work of Jane Austen, has written a solo show called Cheer from Chawton: A Jane Austen Family Theatrical.

Karen (seen in the photo here arriving at a different Jane Austen evening) has graciously agreed to step into Jane’s Empire Waist dress for the evening and entertain our gala attendees as Jane Austen. Personally, I’m very excited to see how Jane herself reacts to our modern age and, more interestingly, how we smartphone-toting, twitter-tweeting, facebook-posting moderns are able to blend into Jane’s world.

If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s performances outside of our Evening with Her, hop on over to her website, here.

Everyone at GTTP, hopes you will join us and Jane for food, drinks, and dancing at our June 16th gala – it may possibly be the event of the season! Although the early bird discount has expired, tickets are still on sale online here and at the door (124 Washington Avenue in Ft. Greene Brooklyn. More details (including directions) on the event itself can be found here. AND, for those of you who really really want to come to the gala but are hesitant because you don’t have a Regency Period outfit in your wardrobe, stay tuned for an upcoming blog post where I show everyone how to dress like a Jane Austen character using clothes you already have in your closet.

Which brings me to:

The show has been cast and rehearsals have begun. The play will feature (in alphabetical order):

Dina Ann Comolli*, Katharine McLeod*, Mark Montague*, Costa Nicholas, Patrick Daniel Smith,

Jenny Strassburg*, Brad Thomason*, Ashley Wickett*

*denotes members of Actors’ Equity Association appearing in an AEA Approved Showcase.

This past week we’ve done a rough block of the whole show and tomorrow we head into a week of character work. I’m excited, with a Jane Austen story so dependent on both relationships and the unspoken, to really delve into what makes these characters tick and see how those little (and I’m sure in some cases big) discoveries affect how we play the scenes when we return to the text next week.

The other big news on the Jane Austen’s Persuasion front is that tickets for the June 26th-July 8th run, are now on sale. As with all of our shows, tickets can be purchased online at our home page, our shows and events page, or by clicking here, by phone at 866-811-4111 and at The Secret Theatre Box Office at 44-02 23rd Street, Long Island City, NY 11101. This production will mark GTTP’s fourth production at The Secret Theatre and our first in the space known as The Little Secret. Can’t wait for y’all to see it.

And, just because I think it’s so awesome and our designer Christine Diaz did SUCH an amazing job on our images, I’d like to leave you with our Jane Austen-ized version of the tahiti logo. Enjoy!

 

The TRUth about NY Theater Resources…

Ok, so last week in the midst of my rant I off-handedly mentioned the best theater company you’ve never heard of… So now it’s time for me to elaborate. This weekend I spent 16 hours in an audition event. Basically, I saw two days of auditions from about 250 actors. This was an INSANELY useful resource for me. Seeing as I have at least two shows to cast in the next 6 months (possibly three) getting a chance to see this many professional actors in one sitting (or two sittings as the case may be) just saved me an enormous amount of time. The company that organized this event is called TRU – Theater Resources Unlimited – and, no kidding folks, if you are involved in theater in NYC and you’re not a part of TRU you are missing out.

When I first moved to NY I was doing a lot of directing but I had been reluctant to become a producer. Although I have always been organized and detail-oriented (two necessary skills of a producing) I never really wanted to be a part of the producing world. I just wanted to focus on directing and have that be my career. However, after a few years of not being hired to direct, I finally decided to bite the bullet and teach myself to be a producer and here I am, years later, with a bunch of producing credits under my belt and I don’t need to learn to be a producer, I am one…but, MAN would it have been helpful to be a part of TRU 15 years ago. Because (get ready folks, I’m about to reveal an inner truth about Jessica Ammirati and, contrary to popular belief, I don’t do this very often, so seriously, get ready) when I began to produce, I had NO IDEA what I was doing. The first show I fully produced I just bumbled through it and I made a lot of mistakes – A LOT of mistakes. Of course that was an incredible learning experience for me BUT I seriously wish I knew then what I know now and that is 3 little letters people: T – R – U!

Now, I’ve been aware of TRU almost since I first arrived in the city, but because I only knew it as a producing organization, when I was still resisting becoming a producer, I didn’t really pursue becoming a member (Dude, seriously? My mistake!) So here’s the description of TRU from their website: “TRU was formed to promote a spirit of cooperation and support within the general theatre community by providing information and a variety of entertainment-related services and resources that strengthen the capacity of producing organizations, individuals producers, self-producing artists and other theater professionals.” Founded in 1992, TRU is enjoying its 20th year of supporting theater artists. Along with the annual audition event I just attended, TRU has some other yearly events like the Producers’ Boot Camp Sessions on Fundraising and Producing Showcases. They also provide a new play/new musical series. They hold speed date nights for producers and writers where writers can pitch their projects to producers looking for new works. And they hold monthly seminars about different topics of interest to producers, directors, writers and actors. If you are a member of TRU (which, by the way costs only $75/year for individuals and $100/yr for companies) the seminars are free and the other events are either free or deeply discounted. And, if you’re not a member you can still attend most of the TRU activities on a pay-as-you-go basis (though the membership is the better deal).

TRU also has the PDMP Program. The Producers Development and Mentorship Program is a year long program for producers and self producing artists (in fact, this year the program has separated its participants into two groups – career producers and self producing artists (it’s the latter group of which I am a part)). The PDMP program consists of monthly seminars with Broadway and Off-Broadway producers with topics ranging from marketing, to fundraising, to budgets, to contracts, to legal issues, to touring opportunities to pretty much any topic you can think of that effects a theater producer  in today’s theatrical environment. But one of the most helpful things I have found with the PDMP is that it gets you thinking about what your goals are as a producer. It gets you thinking in very practical and specific terms about how you produce and why. And, as someone who fell into producing as a way to continue directing, I find it extremely helpful to think about producing under these terms and tailor my production work to take these things into account.

In the end, TRU is all about connections. Bob Ost, the founder and current President of TRU is an absolute marvel. He knows how to connect people and he engenders such loyalty (for example of that loyalty, uh, read this post) in the people he works with that regardless of what level they’re producing at (from you’re tiny community theater all the way up to Broadway), they still want to be a part of what Bob is doing and so they offer to participate in seminars or serve on the TRU Board of Directors or in some way remain a part of TRU long after they first came through TRU’s door. You see Bob understands that networking is a crucial part of being a producer and he creates a space that encourages people to network in a comfortable way. He helps people talk to each other and before you know it, you’ve built your rolodex, yes but more importantly you’ve connected with people that you may find yourself working with for years to come. And what’s even more amazing is that Bob in specific and TRU in general, makes you believe (despite what most naysayers think) that what you’re doing, or trying to do, or hoping to do – this theater thing that we all put our hearts and souls into – it’s not just a sane and reasonable choice that you’ve made for a career, but it is completely and totally possible. TRU gives you that gift of possibility with every meeting, every seminar, every networking event, every person you meet…oh, and also? there are usually free brownies at TRU events. So no kidding, guys, if you’re involved in theater in NYC get thee to a TRU event pronto – I promise you, you’ll be happy that you did!

If you would be interested in being a member of TRU or just showing up to one of their open seminars – check out www.truonline.org.

The good…and the bad…

The good news is that the one-act I directed as part of The Secret Theatre’s One Act Factor, has been chosen as a semi-finalist! After 2 sold out performances, The Day Job by Julia Blauvelt, will get at least one more performance this Friday, March 30th at 8pm. And, if we pass to the Finals it will get two more performances! Tickets and details available here. The whole festival has been incredibly successful. The shows have played to sold out houses and it’s the first time that something I directed has sold so well…and that’s what I wanted to talk a bit about in today’s blog. You see, NY independent theater is hard. It’s hard work, yes, but it’s also hard to get audiences. I know, I know, I know, this is not new information; I mean, it’s hard to get audiences for EVERYTHING, so it’s not a shock that it’s hard to get audiences for low budget indy theater in the theater capital of the world. After all, Joe Blow Tourist from middle America ain’t coming to my experimental, multimedia, adaptation of an obscure Mary Doria Russell novel, even if it is a fantastic show and even if it is practically in Times Square…but still, it can be hard to keep the motivation going and, when you’re involved in a production that does very well (as I am with The One Act Factor) it’s a reminder of how things sometimes don’t go so well in other areas of your life.

Most of the time I try very hard to be nothing but positive on this blog. I mean GTTP is an exciting company and we do exciting work and I want you all to see that, hear that, and feel that from this blog. I don’t mind sharing the reality of the difficulties of producing theater here but I don’t want to skew to the negative. I want to be honest – I mean, isn’t that what a blog is for/about but nobody wants to hear me whine about how producing theater is haaaaarrrrrdddddd. So, read the rest of this blog at your own risk. If you’d rather just see the happy sunny side of life, skip this blog post entirely and catch up with us next week when I discuss the best theater organization in the city that you’ve never heard of. But, if you want to hear the truth, keep on reading…and stick around for the end cause there’s a nice little addendum to this story.

So, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, being an artist in NYC is hard and sometimes there are days when you can’t help but think why why why am I doing this? During the run of Full Disclosure I had one (actually a few) of those days when we had VERY small audiences (like two people) and there were even a couple performances we had to cancel because no one showed up at all. What if you threw a party and no one showed up? Well, I can tell you, because it’s happened to me and it sucks. And, because I’m hoping other theater companies out there read this blog, I want them to realize when the going gets tough that they’re not alone out there. In the end I felt like it was only fair for me to post the good with the bad. So here goes. (Also, since I’m not certain that anyone other than my mom reads this blog anyway, it can’t hurt, right?)

The life of an artist. (An artist with an amazing, super supportive, incredibly awesome husband, family and general support system, but an artist nonetheless…)

Everyone is encouraging. Everyone is supportive. I can’t express how grateful I am for that encouragement and support but what if everyone is also delusional? What if I am? It never seemed like such a crazy dream, it still doesn’t…I just want to make a living as a director. And yes I know making a living with art is crazy. It’s impossible… It won’t get you rich… I know, I know, I know… but here’s the thing… the thing I keep coming back to… the reason I can’t just stop. I can’t just let it go… Are you ready for the thing? Here it is: people do it. Yup, that’s right. There are people all over the world (and when it comes to theater particularly this city – all over this city) who do it. They make a living with their art. It may not be a good living but it’s how they pay their bills… And hell, some of them are even rich. Not Bill Gates, Oprah Winfrey rich, but, you know, they make a decent living. They’re rich enough not to worry every month about paying their bills, about going out to a nice dinner (I am so sick of tuna fish but that’s another story) about picking up a nice bottle of wine (although say what you will, that 3 buck chuck ain’t bad at all). You know, they just do it. That’s what I’d like to get to. I’d like to have a little breathing room so that each month I don’t have to go into an ulcer-inducing, migraine causing, teeth grinding panic that the bills are due…

So, in order to become a director, I became a producer. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And I started this production company… And you know what? We’re good. I mean we do good – really good – work. And, every show I think “this one’s going to be different. This time I’ll get the word out in advance. I’ll make sure the show is listed everywhere, that everyone knows about it. I’ll hang signs and run campaigns and we’ll have HUGE audiences (or at least decent houses).” And you know what happens? I do the listings. I hang the signs. I talk to the people and… we’re lucky if we get 10 people!

Now, I know we don’t have brand recognition. I know we often do new works and none of those new works are produced by Alicia Keys or starring Sarah Jessica Parker, but still, we do great stuff with amazing actors. How are we flying under the radar? Why is word not spreading? In the past I’ve had marketing help but clearly it’s time to bring in a pro… or is it? Is it worth the expense? Will they really bring in an audience or funds or whatever? What’s next?

I’m hoping Persuasion, being Jane Austen, will at least bring in some folks, but honestly, if we can’t bring in some money, we can’t do Persuasion. This is why we did Full Disclosure. Do a smaller less expensive show, sell out a few houses and BOOM! Enough money in the bank to have a base for Persuasion but you know what’s happened? We did 12 performances of a planned 14 performance run and… no sold out houses. In fact our largest house was eighteen people and we had to cancel two performances (one of them on a SATURDAY night!) because there was no audience! I mean, I’ve faced small audiences before but since the start of GTTP I have NEVER had to cancel an entire performance, let alone two. We’re going backwards!! So now what?

You have to persevere. You can’t give up. You just need to have a thick skin. But, if I’m really going to persevere (and who are we kidding? I am because a director is who I am) and if I’m not going to give up (spoiler alert: I’m not (see the whole “it’s who I am” thing above)) then I don’t think the thick skin is going to cut it. I think, not a thick skin – a short memory.

Yes, you have to remember enough to learn from your mistakes but once you’ve done that? Forget, forget, forget. Forget the disappointment of the last time. Forget that acid stomach, might-vomit feeling of looking at the two presales at five minutes to curtain and thinking “maybe there’s a tourist bus full of people just pulling up out front.” Forget the headache inducing feeling of looking at your audience of 2, count ‘em TWO wonderful people, knowing they’ll still get an amazing performance but that it would be better if that 2 were 20 or 50 or 100. You need to forget, forget, forget and believe – really BELIEVE that next time it will be different… And then SOMEHOW you need to make that happen.

Because, if Going to Tahiti Productions is about the possibility (and it is), about all of the possible things that could happen when that curtain goes up or those lights go on… well then, it’s definitely POSSIBLE that one of the possibilities is playing to packed houses. Maybe with a longer run. Maybe with a show with a bigger budget. Maybe with a press rep. Maybe, maybe, baby… but whatever the answer I guess the only way I’m going to find it is to keep trying…right?

So, I guess I have no choice, right? So, I pick myself up off the mat, forget, forget, forget the disappointments of last show, last year, last night…know, know, KNOW that the product is good, whether the audience is 2 or 20 or 50 or 100. Know that the show is HIGH quality and get ready to do it again tomorrow. I mean who are we kidding? In the world of dreams is there ever, was there really ever, an option to do anything OTHER than keep pursuing? I think not. See you at the theater, folks. I know it’s where I’ll be… And honestly, I really hope you come and join me for the ride!

So I wrote the above blog post during the run of Full Disclosure, and though the show was terrific and Kiwi Callahan knocked it out of the park for every freaking performance, we didn’t have a fantastic attendance rate and we lost money on the show. BUT! Something happened with Cat Lady Without a Cat. Are you ready? We made…wait for it…EIGHTY EIGHT DOLLARS! That’s right, ladies and gentlemen of the interwebs, we didn’t lose a dime on our last production, we are in the black! So, you know…progress…Here’s hoping this is the beginning of an upward trend for GTTP! I have a feeling, 2012 is going to be a very good year.

 

Yeah, but WHY is it funny? That Beautiful Laugh – Review


I don’t know why this is funny but I find it hI-larious. (This fact will be important later.)

Ok, so there are a couple of things y’all need to know about me for this post…full disclosure and all…

1) First and foremost – I’m a scifi nerd. No, like seriously, in case you couldn’t tell from the picture to the left – I LOVE sci fi – movies, books, tv, you name it, I’m a fan.

2) Secondly, and related to the above – I LOVE me some Joss Whedon. I realized that because I’m a director and producer, I don’t get star struck. I mean I work with actors all the time and I’ve met my share of famous people and I just don’t get tongue-tied around them…but there are two people I think I’d turn into a babbling idiot in front of (if I’m ever lucky enough to meet either of them) and they are Steven Spielberg and Joss Whedon.

3) Thirdly – I don’t like clowns. Like I REALLY don’t like clowns.

Which brings me to…

That Beautiful Laugh

So now you know the circumstance under which I agreed to attend That Beautiful Laugh by Orlando Pabotoy. Featuring Julia Ogilvie, Alan Tudyk, and Carlton Ward this “exploration of laughter featuring clowning, live music, and joy [is a] high-energy, rhythmically-driven comedy piece” playing at La MaMa until March 25th. Tickets available here: http://lamama.org/the-club/that-beautiful-laugh/ Basically, I went to see it because Alan Tudyk is in it. For those of you who don’t know, Alan Tudyk played Wash in the short-lived Joss Whedon television show Firefly and its follow up movie, Serenity. So, when I saw he was going to be in it, the connection to numbers 1 and 2 on my list above outweighed number 3, and, after having seen the show, I’m really glad it did.

I had no idea what to expect when I went in to the show. In fact, I purposely didn’t investigate a whole lot about the show because I didn’t want to go into it with any preconceived notions (other than “the guy who played Wash is in it and he’s gonna be a clown.”) I knew I would be writing a review of the show so I tried to walk in with an open mind. As the lights went down and the show began, people started to laugh. Musicians Eugene Ma and Harrison Beck get the show started and Alan Tudyk appears. His character, Flan, sets up the premise of the show – that people have forgotten a particular kind of laugh (that of the title). Flan then facilitates the entrance of the other two characters – I’ll not spoil the fun by explaining exactly how – but suffice it to say, he is joined on stage by Julia Ogilvie’s Darla Waffles Something and Carlton Ward’s Ian.

When I saw the show the audience immediately began to laugh – right from the beginning – and, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure why they were laughing. For those other sci-fi geeks out there, I felt like Data, on the Enterprise, trying to understand humor. I mean, I found it mildly amusing but people were, like, guffawing. Great belly laughs all around me. So, what? What were they laughing at? What was so funny? I felt completely left out. I didn’t get it at all. I spent the first 10 minutes of the show, watching the clowning (not your Ringling Bros.’ Circus Clowns by the way) and kind of smiling but just not getting it…and trust me, I was trying really hard to “get it.” And then…something amazing happened. Right around the 10 minute mark, something on stage just struck me funny – like, “I looked at the chicken” (see above) funny. I mean, it completely bypassed my brain and I let out a serious laugh and I STOPPED TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT! I just let it wash (heh, that’s funny because his Firefly character is named Wash) over me. I embraced it and stopped dissecting the nature of humor and suddenly, I was five years old again and I was just enjoying myself.

And, as if that wasn’t enough? There was magic: I remember, when I was little my dad used to do “magic tricks.” One was this one where he’d pretend through the positions of his fingers, that he could detach his thumb. He’d sing this little circus music song and do this whole “routine” where he would detach his thumb and put it back on. When I was five I thought it was the funniest and most amazing thing on the planet. When I watch him do the same routine now for my niece and nephews, I know what he’s doing and I know how it works. It’s not wondrous in that way it was when I was a kid, but when I was five? Man! That was some aMAZing S**T! When I finally got out of my analytical head watching That Beautiful Laugh, I was reminded of those magic tricks (In fact, Flan does a very similar “trick” a few different times in the show). But watching the play, as an adult, I found that I just started laughing and didn’t stop until I had left the theater. And it wasn’t just the laughter, that magic – that wonder that a five year old can see – that was also present throughout the show. Within the play there is a shadow puppet show. It’s ingenious, elaborate, beautiful, magical…and damn funny – “it’s a kit-tay!” And then there was the ending. The ending was just beautiful – magical and full of wonder. I’m too much of a spoiler nut to tell you how the show ends, I’d rather you see it for yourself, but I will say that if you walk out of that theater without having reacted to the magic and wonder of that ending, then you might just be dead inside. So, the only question I was left with is:

Yeah, but WHY is it funny? I never did figure that out but in the end I discovered that as long as I was laughing, I just didn’t care.

Ok, so regular posts will now happen on Mondays!

Yeah, after missing my self-imposed deadline for blog updates last week and almost missing it this week, (and who are we kidding this barely even counts as an update. It’s not at all up to my standard of fun, witty, interesting and theatrical posts. I mean it’s really just an administrative post to say I’m going to do this differently in the future, AND, it’s STILL only on time by 11 minutes), I have decided to push my “blog update deadline” to Mondays (by 11:59pm). So, starting tomorrow, expect blog updates once a week…posted on,wait for it, Mondays! Ta Da! It’s all part of the plan.

Seriously…what was I thinking picking Sunday nights in the first place? I clearly was not thinking at all. Growing up, I used to HATE Sunday nights. The weekend was over, school started the next day. I used to perpetually get a stomach ache on Sunday nights…Come to think of it, that continued well into adulthood. I don’t think that actually stopped until I got off of the regular 9-5 job carousel. Once I went freelance, my Sunday night stomach aches were a thing of the past, so clearly, Sunday night deadlines = bad for Jessica…WHAT was I thinking indeed?!