Lately I’ve had a great deal of difficulty with motivation.. with drive. I have loads of projects – production projects and art projects, around the house projects and holiday projects and I like the idea of every single one of them. When I can’t work on them because I’m not in the apartment or because I have to do the day job, I’m anxious to roll up my sleeves and dive in but then, when I do have the time, and I’m looking at a day free of responsibilities except those where I answer to myself alone, a strange thing happens – I just can’t motivate myself to pick up a paintbrush and paint or load up the editing project and just work on it…even reading a new book (as opposed to the comfort books that I’ve read a gazillion times) is something I have to consciously force myself – truly drive myself to do…

I don’t feel depressed, or even particularly sad (though I am willing to admit that maybe I am depressed and this is how depression manifests itself in me – kind of the way I don’t feel “stress” I just get a headache or my stomach goes wonky. It’s visceral – literally in my viscera – not emotional so maybe my depression (if depression it be) manifests itself as physical inaction… I don’t know.) What I do know is that it’s been a problem for awhile. Since before I left New York in fact, (though it was, of course, exacerbated by dad’s illness and then his death. That definitely broke a part of me that I have come to understand will just always be broken – scabbed over and not as tender as it was at first, but honestly? Never healed…) But that’s actually not what this is about. This is about something else. This is about a realization I had lying here at 4:38 am after not being able to sleep and embracing my old friend insomnia…

Here it is (and it’s ironic (or perhaps just obvious) coming in the midst of my insomnia) but I realized that: I’m. So. Tired. I spent twenty years in the grind of New York City and for pretty much all of those years I pushed and drove myself towards the career I’ve always wanted – directing. Every job I had, every choice I made was about trying to build that career. Trying to get to the place where I would be paid to do what I love and what I’m good at.

First I just hustled and tried to find gigs as a director. Unpaid? No problem! You’re going to let me direct? I’m in. And after all of that work, I didn’t level up in my career and I still wasn’t getting paid. So, after many long years of production work and unpaid directing gigs (and the ever present day jobs, don’t forget the day jobs), I started a production company. I found scripts and I found money and I made show after show after show. No script? No problem – here’s a book I like, I’ll somehow get the rights. I’ll adapt it for the stage. I remember having a conversation with a new friend (well new at the time) and we were sitting in Republic Noodles in Union Square and I’ll never forget it – we were talking about my choice to make Dreamers of the Day, about the fact that I had the rights and was starting the stage adaptation and my friend said to me,

- Wait, you’re going to adapt the book?

- Yes

- Have you ever done that before?

- No

- I mean do you even know how?

-No

- Cause that seems really hard. I don’t know if you can just decide to do that.

But, you know what? I totally did it. I just waded in and created a really beautiful show. I had tons of help, and a super talented cast and crew that made that show happen but I was the driving force. That show happened because of me. Its existence on stage happened because I pushed and I drove myself through version after version.

When the asshats broke into our apartment  in Brooklyn and took my computer with the most up-to-date version of the script on it (side note: always back up your work in three different places, my lovelies) I spent my sacred vacation week on the Cape – not kayaking, or hanging with the family, or eating fried seafood, but hunkered down recreating the lost pages and improving the script and bringing that project to life. And it really was a wonderful show. A show that I truly believe, had the “right people” seen it, could have launched my career. It didn’t. I guess the “right people” (the career launching ones) didn’t see it.

It was ephemeral and lasted for too short a time and I moved on. To show after show after show. Pushing and driving and though I was doing it for the love of the work, and though the work itself was exhausting but truly rewarding, there was always a part of me that hoped, “this time will be different. Even if I don’t suddenly find myself making a full-time living at this directing thing, with each show, I’ll hone my craft and my work will get a bit more recognized with each project. Even if the shows don’t sell out, I’ll start getting some reviews, I’ll start getting some traction and I’ll build my career. Slowly and steadily, brick by ridiculously heavy brick, I will build.”

And so I pushed. I drove. I forced myself to believe and hope each time that I’d get better and stronger and my career would start to be a career. Through Full Disclosure and Skin Flesh Bone and Persuasion and In the Ebb at an amazing venue at Fringe – surely Fringe will make a difference! The work is good. The work is solid. The work can’t help but be noticed. People will see it. My career will grow. Through Bella’s Dream and Within Arm’s Reach – through all of these great shows full of creative original work from a collection of super-talented people. “Something’s gotta break my way,” I told myself again and again and again and again.

And then Farm Story – a TV show – an independent television show with a ridiculously talented group of people. It felt like everything just came together on that project. I drove and I pushed and I forced and it happened. And I thought surely, this is it. Everything else has been building to this. Everything has brought me to here. This can’t help but be a success. Even if it doesn’t go as a show, clearly this is a calling card that will get all of these people work that will launch us all – it’s too good. How could it not? HOW COULD IT NOT?

Spoiler alert. It didn’t. And I think that’s when it started to happen. This inaction started to settle in. In fits and starts, just a little bit at first, but it just started to pull me down. I’m just so damn tired. It’s really hard to push and drive and force and believe. It’s really hard to know you have something to say and a creative voice to say it with and to struggle to find money, to make it happen again and again and again and to still not get anywhere. To be almost 50 with this thing, this not-really-a-career-BUT-surely-more-than-a-hobby-please-god-tell-me-it’s-more-than-a-hobby thing. To have spent 20 years – more really since you’ve been driving towards it since college, since high school, since 6^th grade. More than half your life pushing towards this thing and time and time and time and again…you look up, you emerge from a fog of work and ambition and drive and self-whip-cracking, you pull your head out from under the most recent project and look up to see…

…that nothing’s changed. No that’s not right, lots of thing have changed – you’ve changed. You’ve got more experience and you’ve learned new things – techniques and insights and new things to say. You’ve made new friends – created these little pockets of new family. You’ve gained people and you’ve lost some. Oh, and you’ve aged. Of course, you’ve aged. The inexorable march of time, well that hasn’t stopped. So yeah, you’ve changed but your career? Your trajectory? That’s just been on the same plateau for years. Forever.

“You’re fooling yourself,” you think, but no, you just have to keep going. You start a podcast “this will be the thing or if not the thing at least a thing that will help. That will get those creative juices flowing and who knows maybe this will be the thing.” And then a film. You’ll make a short film because who knows, maybe this will be the thing. Because, that’s the trick, you see – you always think, you must always think “but this time will be different. Maybe THIS. WILL. BE. THE. THING.”

But already the inaction is settling in. And the tired is settling in. You’ve been driving and pushing for 20 years…of course you’re tired. “I know,” you think, a move, a new place, with new projects. This will be the thing” but that inertia has you. It might be too late. And you watch your friends moving up, moving on – so excited for them, so proud of them, but also sad for yourself, because know you’ve been left behind but “that’s ok because you’re not left behind, you’re just on a different track and your track will lead to a station – a good station – you just have to keep going”…except you’re just so tired. 20 years – more – of self-making is tiring. And when it gets you nowhere even more so. You can’t give up because who would you be if not this but how? How how how do you keep driving? No, seriously, I’m asking… How? Because holy good lord, I sure don’t know…

…and then you think, “I don’tknow,” but maybe…maybe, maybe, maybe it starts with saying it all. With writing it out and putting it out into the world. Maybe it starts with using a sleepless night and a semi-coherent 4am scribble as a pause, a refreshing I-don’t-know-what-but-maybe-something and you get up from your sleepless-rest and feel, “Is it? Could it be? Maybe, hopefully, a little bit of drive?”

So, you cross your fingers and you do what you’ve done forever…

You pick yourself up.
You splash some water on your face.
You sit down at your computer and open your project and you push yourself…
You push yourself hopefully to greatness but at least…
at the very least…
to action…

My alma mater. Go Camels!

Many years ago I participated in an outward bound-type of outdoor orientation program before starting college — a sort of pre-orientation orientation (sponsored by the school) to my freshman year. You know the kind of trip – take a bunch of about-to-be college students, take away their watches (so they’re on “nature’s time”), pile them into a bus, drive them up to the woods (hmmm, this is actually starting to sound like the beginning of a horror movie, but it wasn’t like that, I swear), hike them into some remote location, teach them to build lean-tos (no tents for these overprivileged teenagers), and have them participate in a randomized selection of outdoor activities that are meant to foster self-confidence and bonding – activities like caving, and white-water canoeing, and rock-climbing. I LOVED IT. No kidding, the trip was amazing! I remember being excited and exhilarated, and, yes scared, but that fear manifested more as excitement and exhilaration than as fear. The thing is that with the rock climbing and the caving I definitely had those moments of “oh shit, I’m totally gonna die” and that was super scary but the feeling was very recognizable as fear. I could look at it and say, “Nope! That ain’t going to stop me! I am DOING THIS!” and, you know, I did it. I climbed the rock. I paddled the canoe. I plunged into (and emerged from) the cave.

(SIDEBAR – I should mention, if you’re anything like me, these particular caves were not the kind of caves you picture when you think “cave.”

Less “ooh look at this spacious cave we’re ‘exploring’…”

And more “Holy Crap, these are two enormous slabs of rock that have been here with this tiny space between them for, like, since the dawn of time, what if they choose right this exact second to shift?”

You know those wide open spaces where you stand around with a group and say, “ooh look – stalactites, stalagmites.” No, siree, Bob! This was more of a wedge-yourself-into-very-tight-spaces-between-two-enormous-prehistoric-slabs-of-rock-hope-you’re-not-claustrophobic-and-if-you-weren’t-going-in-you-will-be-coming-out-oh-and-by-the-way-it’s-freezing-wet-and-super-muddy-caving-with-a-capital-C-CAVING kinda thing.)

Yup, this…

But, I digress. In the end, whether caving or rock climbing, the fear was clearly, you know, FEAR, and so, it was (well, not exactly easy to disperse but) at least identifiable as fear and therefore face-able. But then came the high elements course and the fear I experienced during it was a whole different animal. It was invisible. It wasn’t identifiable as fear. It was more easily named indifference.

“What’s a high elements course,” you ask? Well it’s a sort of obstacle/ropes course, about 50 feet in the air, suspended from trees.

An example of a High Elements Course

This is that wire walk thing I was trying to describe.

Nowadays you’ve seen things like it on American Gladiators, and other shows of that ilk, but at the time I’d never even heard of such a thing, let alone been expected to participate in one. These courses can be constructed in different ways, but basically, it’s a series of challenges comprised of logs, ropes, and wires suspended in the air. This particular one had an incline log, a balance beam log, a wire walk thing (two horizontal wires – one about 5 feet above the other – suspended between two trees) where you walk on the bottom wire and hold the top wire for balance, a series of ropes hanging from a wire between two trees where you had to cross from one tree to the other by transferring to each rope (Tarzan style), and, lastly, a platform with a trapeze (which, spoiler alert was too far away to reach even if you really jumped for it).

Staples in the trees between each challenge…and a sense of how high up the course is.

For the whole course you’re belayed (harness and safety ropes) and you traverse the course with your teammates yelling encouragement from the ground. Sounds great, right? What could be scary about that, right? I mean, how could it be scarier than rock climbing or rappelling or white water canoeing, right? Even 50 feet in the air, in the rain with all the surfaces slippery as all get out, right?

Wrong.

See, here’s the thing. I didn’t think I was afraid at all. I just had zero interest in doing the course. What it boils down to is that all of the other challenges – the rock climbing, the caving, the canoeing, hell, even the zip lining, I had heard about before. I was ready for them. I was expecting them. They were “things people did.” Even if it was just to face the challenges of nature, or just to get an adrenaline rush, all of these things were things that made some sort of sense to me. Yes, they were man’s attempt at conquering nature but in a practical way – “I need to get from here to there but there’s a cave, or a river, or a mountain in the way so I’ll crawl through that cave, or canoe down that river, or climb that mountain.” I mean that makes sense to me. But this? This arbitrary man-made construct suspended 50 feet in the air? Uh yeah, that made exactly zero sense at all. Especially in the rain.

So, when it came my turn to do the course, the guide was all, “Jessica, you’re up.” And I remember just thinking, “nope. I’ll pass.” I think I even said, “nope. I’ll pass.” When he insisted, I explained (very rationally, I’m sure) that I just didn’t have any interest in doing the course. He said, “there’s no reason to be afraid,” and I was shocked (SHOCKED, I tell you) that he would even consider it. “I’m not scared,” I said. “I just don’t see the point.” I was, no kidding, 100% certain that I was not afraid at all. I told myself I was indifferent. I told myself it was pointless. I told myself it was an arbitrary man-made construct and there was absolutely no reason I needed to participate in it. I was pretty self-righteous about it too, to be honest.

I told myself that if I was scared, I would feel, you know, scared. So, I resolved not to do the course. In the end, I was, in fact, the last person in my group to do it. And the only reason – the ONLY reason – I even stepped foot on that first log was because my guide (whose name I can’t remember but who I do remember was ridiculously cute in a Teva-wearing, “no outdoor challenge is too much for me” kinda way) asked me to just try the first challenge as a “personal favor” to him. So I did (because I never could resist doing a personal favor for a cute guy) and by the time I was up the log I realized that there were only two ways off the course – either freak right the fuck out and have to be lowered down to the ground like a goat in a sling (sorry, Jurassic Park reference), or just finish the damn course. And, not wanting to be the goat I just finished the damn course.

And here’s what I discovered at the end when I was leaping off the platform to grab the too-far-away trapeze. Number 1: I was absolutely sure that I was going to catch it. Number 2: harnesses hurt your crotch like a son of a bitch when they catch all of your weight. And, Number 3: there are all kinds of fear.

Sometimes you see your fear coming. Sometimes, you grab your fear by the throat and wrestle it to the ground. Sometimes, you outsmart your fear by consciously pretending it’s not there. And sometimes, it really feels like it’s not there. It masks itself as indifference and with that indifference it’s really easy to just ignore it and move on to the next thing. BUT, here’s the danger with that, and, by the way, here’s the point of this entire blog post (way to bury the lede, right?): If you think you’re indifferent to it and you ignore it and move on to the next thing?  Yeah, in the end I’m sure it will be fine. That next thing will be great and you’ll move along a little less brave and none the wiser BUT, you’ll miss it. I will say that again because it’s important – You. Will. Miss. It.

You’ll miss that big, beautiful, juicy, amazing, life-altering, wonderful feeling. Because, even though I didn’t catch that trapeze (and even though that harness hurt!) for that millisecond, when I jumped, I was SURE I was going to catch it. I was absolutely POSITIVE it was in my grasp. I knew it was impossible AND I knew I was going to do it. I believed wholeheartedly in that – in the possibility of the impossible. And even though, in the end, I didn’t actually catch the trapeze (because, big surprise, physics always works) that feeling never went away. From that moment on, that feeling turned out to be a new truth for me: The impossible isn’t just possible it will happen. If you push, and you try, and you believe, and you face your fear – IT. WILL. HAPPEN. And, I would have missed it. I would have missed that lesson, that understanding. And I never would have realized that fear is insidious. Fear can stop you not just cold, but also kinda lukewarm. You need to guard against it and you need to be vigilant because that thing you’re calling indifference? Yeah, most of the time, it’s just fear in indifference’s clothing. Don’t let it stall you. Don’t let it stop you. Don’t let it rule you.

So what does all this have to do with production? I mean this is a blog post on a production company’s website, after all. Well here’s the deal…this job is hard. This industry is hard. We work and we struggle and we face our fears in the hopes of success and wealth, yes, but also because we are compelled to tell stories. We’re compelled to reach people. If we could do anything else in the universe with as much joy as we do this, we absolutely would. Hands down! No one – NO ONE – would choose this if any of us had a choice. I mean there’s no two ways about it. This struggling thing? It sucks. But it’s also who we are. And when something comes up professionally, you think, “Oh, big scary thing. I’m knocking that puppy down.” I think we all do that. But, what I’m saying here is, sadly, that’s not enough. Because sometimes the big scary thing isn’t big and scary at all. Sometimes we look at it and think, “yeah, I’m just not interested in that right now. I’m going to go watch reruns of West Wing instead.” And that’s the danger. We get lulled into that place of, “but I’m tired. I’ve been doing this for years with varying degrees of success, and I just want to binge-watch Netflix right now.” I hear you. Believe me. And you want to watch West Wing for a day, a weekend, hell even a whole week? Go for it, you deserve it. BUT, after that day, that weekend, that whole week, I am telling you – Put on that harness, hook up your safety ropes, do the favor for the cute guy, and just Get. On. The. FUCKING. Course. Here and now, I promise you it will be worth it. I promise you that you will be rewarded for it. In fact, I promise you – I PROMISE YOU – that if you climb up that first log and you get onto that damn course, in the end you will jump for that trapeze with all that you are and you will float down from the trees KNOWING for a fact that the impossible is yours for the taking.

And so, for now, I leave you with two of my favorite motivational memes:

You CAN do the thing…so just go do it.

-Jessica

Ok, so this is a long post. Like, a really long post. Sorry about that. But it turns out, when you’re talking about your passion, it’s kinda hard to keep it short. Feel free to jump to the links and/or skip to the end (that’s where the really important stuff is, anyway.) -Jess

As many of you know I have been a television fanatic my entire life. In fact, my life is defined by the shows I watch now, was watching then, will be watching tomorrow.

There are the shows of my childhood that I watched religiously with my sisters – Quincy, Eight is Enough, 240-Robert, Simon & Simon, St. Elsewhere, Remington Steele, Riptide – the list goes on and on and on.

Then there are the shows I watched on my own as I got older. In junior high it was Miami Vice – I still remember the conversations Colleen and I had at our lockers about Crockett and Tubbs.

There are the days in high school and early college where I was obsessed with Twin Peaks and Northern Exposure. (And yes, I’m well aware of the Northen Exposure episode that did an homage to Twin Peaks.)

The night during freshman year college spring break, when I had come home from a bad date in an awful mood and my dad had known the only thing that would pick me up – a Star Trek The Next Generation marathon where we watched a full videotape of 6 episodes, long into the night.

The ER fanaticism (particularly in those early seasons) when my aunt called with a family crisis during the ER season finale and I not only didn’t pick up the phone until the commercial break but when I did pick up, the first words out of my mouth were, “Aunt Irene, you know it’s the season finale, why are you calling NOW?” (yup, that story is legend in my family – most of the time I’m a very good niece, I swear.)

After college I had moved on to The X-Files and there was the taping mishap when, during Jen and Kelley’s rehearsal dinner, thinking I was safely recording the season finale, I left the television unattended, went to the dinner under the tent in the backyard and discovered (days later) that halfway through the episode someone, (who shall remain nameless), had changed the channel to a Red Sox game! Not even the Yankees! Not even the post-season! As you can imagine, in the days before dvrs that was a rough one!

There was Highlander and Gilmore Girls and Due South and Farscape; Thirtysomething, and I’ll Fly Away, and Party of Five, and Chicago Hope. In recent years it’s been The Wire, and West Wing, and Friday Night Lights, and Doctor Who, and Breaking Bad, and Mad Men, and Orphan Black, and Justified, and ANYTHING from Joss Whedon. There have been shows that barely lasted a season and there’s been that old stalwart, Law & Order that lasted for 20 and of which I never missed an episode. There are dramas and scifi, and action adventure, but there’s comedy too: Newhart and Cheers, and Friends, and Sports Night and Scrubs, How I Met Your Mother and Modern Family, and Happy Endings. There’s even an animated show here and there - Aqua Team Hunger Force and Family Guy, I’m looking at you (though admittedly, I’m not nearly as obsessive over animation.) The shows  go on and on too numerous to name them all, but the one uniting factor for all of them has been my obsession and family, and friends are all used to me starting out conversations with “That reminds me of this one scene in…”

When I get hooked on a show – I watch it all, in order – I do not miss an episode. Yes, there are the shows I have a casual relationship with – I’ll drop in, enjoy an episode every once in awhile, but those are rare. There are even the shows I hatewatch (again dropping in and out of them), BUT if I’m committed, I’m committed and I can’t let them go. My love for my shows defines moments of my life and Holy Good Lord, the things I’ve seen on TV! It is true that I place my defining career moment – that moment when I knew I wanted to be a director – as my first viewing of a film (Star Wars, to be exact – yes, when I was like 6). But if that was the moment I new I wanted to be a director, the moments that honed that realization, and cemented that decision; the moments where I began to really understand what a director is, and what kind of storyteller I wanted to become, those moments are too numerous to keep track of and stretch through decades of capital M Moments of television where a TV show blew me away, made me excited, made me think, made me laugh out loud, made me cry, made me who I am (warning, spoilers abound in the bullet points below):

• when the camera goes slo-mo in that one episode from Highlander when Richie realizes what he is now;
• when Carter comes into his own and takes charge of the ER in a crisis;
• when Bob Newhart wakes up next to Suzanne Pleshette at the end of Newhart;
• when Buffy whispers her guidance to Dawn before she takes that leap;
• when Picard joins the poker game;
• when Lorelai realizes her feelings for Luke;
• when CJ gets the goldfish from Danny;
• when Niles’ ironing his pants turns into a 10 minute, absolutely brilliant bit of farce;
• the kaddish for Uncle Manny in Northern Exposure;
• the Galactica falling through the atmosphere of New Caprica; 
• the lawnmower in Mad Men;
• the goat fight in How I Met Your Mother;
• Jayne’s hat in Firefly;
• the locket in Farscape;
• the chair flip in Alias;
• the bullet in Fringe;
• Doctor Donna

Moments on top of Moments on top of moments that have moved me and stuck with me but more than that made me stop and think “wow, I want to be a part of that! I want to be responsible for these moments for other people.” Honestly, it’s why I’m a director – for the moments.

So, why am I telling you this? Why now? Why wax rhapsodic about my TV obsession on a theater blog? Well here’s the thing you may not know: this company was never intended to only be about theater. If you watch the music video I made a few years ago, you’ll see I titled it a “Going to Tahiti Production”. You see, I LOVE theater (obviously), but from the beginning, I never intended for GTTP to only do theater. Always always always I have been finagling, to make a film or, better yet, a TV show. So finally we come to the point… finally, the television obsession and the directing thing are starting to collide. Finally I’m making a TV show. To say that it’s a dream come true doesn’t begin to cover it…and honestly, it’s also not accurate, you see, the dream can’t come true – I can’t make the show – until the money is in place, and, though we’re going strong we still have a looooooooooong way to go with that. BUT, I’m closer now than I’ve ever been.

“But it’s a web series, Jess. Didn’t you just film a webseries that’s in editing now and is supposed to be released in the fall?,” you say. Well, yes, I did and it is, and it will be. And yes, technically Farm Story is a web series in that it will first air on the web. And it being a web series allows us to afford to make it. BUT, Terri and I have big plans for this little series. You see we’re not making it like people normally do a web series, we’re making it like a regular ol’ tv show. What we’re doing is filming our very own tv pilot – an hour long drama for a six episode first season. Yes yes yes, it will be distributed online first. But after that, who knows? We have the first 3 episodes written. We know the arc for the remaining 3 episodes. If all goes according to plan, this won’t be a little project. This will be the first season of a multi-season story. If all goes according to plan, this is the next 3-7 years of our lives. Don’t get me wrong, GTTP is not abandoning theater, not even close. In fact, Molly will be doing a workshop production of a new “beyond words” theater piece this summer. And GTTP will have a full production slate through the 2014-15 season (in fact, stay tuned for announcements about that) BUT, GTTP is growing and branching and every day getting closer to the production company I envisioned when I first started out.

The reason I’m making such a big deal about Farm Story, (and you can read all about the development of the project and all the latest happenings on our Farm Story blog) is that this show is our biggest endeavor yet. Our biggest budget by far (50K). A completely new medium for us. Farm Story is a completely crowd-funded, donation-based show (that’s right every dime for this show is coming from donations from y’all). This is locally-grown TV. No big Hollywood studio yet. No big Hollywood money yet. Everyone on this project is either working for peanuts or volunteering, Terri and my folks are cooking some of the meals – are you beginning to see the picture here? We literally can not make this show without the support of all of you. So, I know I’ve asked before but now I’m going to ask for more. This is one of the most important (and terrifying) things I’ve ever done. So, whaddya say? Wanna help us make a television show?

So, with that in mind, if you’d like to make a tax-deductible donation to Farm Story and be a part of this revolutionary, locally-grown TV thing we’ve got going on here, go to the donate page of goingtotahitiproductions.com for instructions; OR, if you want to donate through our crowd funding site, RocketHub, and get rewards for your donation, go here. Truly truly truly, EVERY little bit helps. And, if you can’t donate right now, please spread the word. I also highly recommend checking out the video on the Rockethub page, where you can learn even more about me (as if you need to after this blog post), Terri, and the project; not just because I made the video and I think it’s a damn fine l’il movie, but because I think it conveys the spirit of what we’re doing.

So, yeah, basically – Theater is cool. Going  to Tahiti Productions‘ new theatrical season will be announced in July/August. TV is cool. GTTP is making a show. We need money and support to do it. Jessica is a crazy television junkie. Thanks for reading.

Going to Tahiti Productions is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions for charitable purposes of Going to Tahiti Productions must be made payable to Fractured Atlas only and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.

Last week we had our (now annual) ensemble meeting/holiday get together at GTTP. Wine was imbibed, snacks were eaten, and great philosophical discussions about the nature of theater were held (actually we just talked about what the year had brought and what the new year would bring). Regardless, it’s been an exciting and active 2013 for us. Here, are a couple of accomplishments (by the numbers).

21 – number of active ensemble members currently in the company

3 – number of shows GTTP produced in 2013 (Bella’s Dream, The Sandman’s Coming, and Cat Lady Without a Cat)

18 – number of actors employed in our shows during the year

23 – number of crew members employed in our shows during the year

3 – number of workshops held (directing, improv, audition)

1 – number of managing directors GTTP found to help run the company (yay, Molly!)

So that’s what the past year has held for GTTP. Now it’s time to sit down and ask, “where are we going” (or, as a favorite, canceled-too-soon, TV show would say quo vadamus – if you know the show, mention it in the comments and you’ll get a shout out on Facebook). So, where are we going? I’m glad you asked:

Cabaret – because of holiday travel plans, we’ve decided to move our cabaret from December 20th to a January or February weekend. Stay tuned for updates about our cure for the winter blues, our storytelling cabaret - GTTP Talks…Sex.

Within Arm’s Reach – everything is moving forward with our theatrical adaptation of Within Arm’s Reach, the novel by Ann Napolitano. We’re hoping to announce performance dates and space very soon. We’re currently in the process of holding crew interviews and Molly and I are deep into script revisions. Most likely we’ll be holding auditions in late January and will start rehearsals in early February. It is so exciting to see the play starting to develop…at least on the page, and we’re thrilled to soon be all-in on the production. More (many more) updates to come.

Social Media updates – some of you may have noticed we’ve started a regular Monday theater quote posting on Facebook, we’re getting better about weekly blog posts and we’re starting to run weekly Friday GTTP tweets. That’s right, my peeps, we are all over the interwebs. We’re also hoping to bring back the Tahiti Dispatches (our home grown, locally sourced, podcast), so like us on Facebook, subscribe to our blog, follow us on twitter, and keep a eye out for podcast updates.

Updated website – and, last but not least, speaking of our internet presence, in the next few weeks check back at the website for long awaited updates to the “About Us” and “Past Productions” pages. Molly and I are hunkering down next week to get the website all shiny and new for 2014!

Thanks, all! Stay warm out there.

Today we have a guest blog post from Lantie Tom, the actress playing the part of The Heroine in The Sandman’s Coming. Here’s what she had to say about the process of creating this intriguing and haunting character. Have you bought your tickets yet?

It’s a marvel when diverse artists identify a truth, and with love, honor the beauty with their labor. Soon after agreeing to collaborate on The Sandman’s Coming the first time, I became impressed with director, Molly Ballerstein’s refreshing take on addiction. It has been a gratifying process as she and choreographer Dana Boll have encouraged and assimilated the actors’ ideas into the greater narrative. The result allows us actors (Jill Rittinger and Luke Wise and myself) to show more range than the traditional play, and our improvisations have led us to find movements that are authentic to us and specific to our characters.

I felt that The Heroine required a compelling, dramatic, origin story (as any supernatural character does). I hoped to dissuade audiences from dismissing my character’s title as a convenient pun, so I dug through my research for information that would inspire heroic attributes. My notions, in conjunction with Molly’s version of The Heroine’s background have resulted in a character that I think illustrates some overlooked aspects of addiction.

I had the advantage of playing The Heroine in the play’s first incarnation, and the wealth of additional information available this time around left me wading through possibilities for reconstructing this character. Strategically incorporating choices from the first staging felt like reorganizing the garage – deciding which tools are needed, if and why they’re really indispensable, then where to put them, and lastly, where to put those shiny new tools! The result has been an invigorating discovery of how I understand and translate ancient, larger-than-life correlations between purity and corruption, the natural and the supernatural, saviours and lunatics, the sacred and the profane and love and abuse.

I suspect my relatively literal apporach to the symbolism in my lines in unusual. I am of the opinion that symbolism is affected through precision, so dissecting The Heroine’s lines felt like an exercise in cryptography. To her credit, our director has remained patient and curious while witnessing my process, and intervening when I lose my bearings.

The interplay between the text, and the universal languages of music and movement seem to have spurred this play’s dynamic evolution over a very short rehearsal period, and I’m as eager as anyone to see all the beautiful work that Jill Rittinger and Luke Wise – both of them skilled, truthful, generous actors – have put into this project. Returning audiences and new audiences alike will find The Sandman’s return to be an intriguing experience.

The Sandman’s Coming opens Thursday, October 24th and runs until November 3rd at Theatre 54 at Shetler Studios, 244 West 54th Street, 12th Floor. For tickets and further details go to: www.goingtotahitiproductions.com.

Lantie Tom is a physical, character actor, mask and puppet designer, and educator. For more information:maskspuppetry.wix.com/deadlanguage

When Molly Ballerstein first approached me to compose the music and sound design for The Sandman’s Coming, I was intrigued as well as feeling those good kind of nerves that make you feel like when you don’t know what you’re doing but know that in the end, you will own and be proud of whatever product has been achieved. I had only ever written vocal/lyrical music before; progressive rock and pop metal to be more specific, so approaching an instrumental score of music was slightly new territory for me. The timing could not have been more than perfect to accept this challenge though. I had been dealing with a vocal injury and was exploring new ways to make music while my voice was recovering. Taking that instrumental journey by composing for the theater seemed just what I needed.

I approached the writing and recording process differently than I would’ve with my band’s music. Normally I write the song’s “blueprint” on my acoustic guitar and once the idea’s are all flushed out, I track a demo and begin writing around that initial idea. This time, I produced and arranged the music simultaneously to the writing. Some times this meant approaching the music in a somewhat improvised way, laying everything down in one take and producing and layering with multiple instruments at the same time. Other times it was experimenting with an idea that I had stored away in the back of my mind for months (or years even!), and playing around with how I could manifest those ideas and make them fit within the context of the Sandman story. Another difference is that I tend to record all the tracks that a particular instrument is being used for and go through each instrument at a time; so basically recording each song at the same time (all the guitars, then all the drums, etc.). For this, I did one song at a time. So I’d track a guitar part, mix it down, then track another instrument, and so on until the piece was finished. I enjoyed this process very much. In fact, I think I learned more about production and got what I wanted to achieve sonically by doing things this way.

Instrumental music is an interesting challenge for me. My lyrical music is existential in nature, and many of my songs in the past have touched on the theme of addiction. Additionally, I happen to hear my compositions through the imagination of movement. It may sound odd, but music is very visual to me. So I felt completely comfortable and connected to putting myself into the elements of Sandman. The challenge then came from being able to convey the emotional elements I try to do through my lyrics, and achieve the same emotional outcome through instrumental music. I wanted to put myself into each character’s role and really give each sound or melody or rhythm that characters’ personality. I wanted the music to symbolize each character so that when viewers heard a certain guitar sound or piece of sound design they could recognize that sound as being The User or The Heroine or The Watcher. When I listen back to these pieces, I think I was able to do just that.

It’s been interesting working on this music and visualizing the direction of the play while working solely in Boston and not being present at rehearsals. In a way, it forced me to dig deep into this play and put myself into every role and every movement this piece conveys. The Sandman’s Coming has been an incredible opportunity for me to grow artistically, challenge myself musically, and open my music up to other mediums of listening and experience. I’m honored to be a part of it and am looking forward to where this experience will take me.

Dede Booth is a Boston musician/producer, music therapist in training, & mental health advocate. To learn more about Dede and her work, check out her website here or follow her on Twitter here.

When I was little and still thinking I would ultimately have to have real babies (as opposed to the theater babies that my shows always are) I remember asking my mom what pregnancy was like and she answered “long”. I said, “but it’s only 9 months, right?” (Seriously, my 7 year old brain couldn’t really process 9 months, I mean to me – I thought years were long, months were short). And my mom said, “nope, first of all, technically pregnancy is 10 months, not 9, AND it feels like 9 months and a year! That last month goes on forever!” Of course then she said, “and yet, there’s still never enough time.” Again something my 7 year old brain couldn’t process (too long but also not enough time) so off I went to make my Barbie dolls re-enact scenes from Sesame Street. Ok, ok, I know, you’re all thinking why is she telling us this story? I thought this was a theater blog. I’m getting there, hang with me.  Whenever I go into a tech week I always always think of my mom saying “9 months and a year…and…never enough time.” As an adult, of course, I totally understand how something can be both things-too long and too short-and every time I do a show, as the first performance approaches, I feel that pressure – too long/too short – building in my entire system. Now, at last, I get to the point. Tech week is about to begin – my own final month/year of pregnancy with this particular show-baby.

So, for everyone keeping track, here’s a quick recap of this past week. The week began with the last of the scene work. It’s always amazing to me how the closer you get to the end of the rehearsal process, the more you find in the work. All of the actors start to come off book and as scripts leave hands and actors are free to really connect and communicate on stage, the discoveries start to flow. The moments come together and the show really starts to take shape. We spent the first half of this week finishing scene work. On Thursday I also got the chance to work individually with the actors who have monologues during the show-a chance to really delve and play with those moments. On Friday we did a line-through with the actors (basically everyone sits in a rehearsal room, and runs the show for lines. The stage manager, in our case, the luminous Molly Ballerstein, is on book and at the ready when an actor calls “line” to feed them their text and we cruise through the show). In my experience a line-through right before tech can be extremely helpful for getting everyone ready for the runs that are about to begin…and then, and then, and gentlemen and then…(sorry, a little PIPPIN moment there. I promise, that review is coming soon. ANYWHO I digress (big surprise, I know)). And then! This past weekend we jumped in to run-throughs. Finally we got a chance to see if our running time is anywhere close to the run time we quoted on all of our promotional materials (turns out it is) and we got to see a glimmer of what the show will be.

It’s also during this last week before tech when the slow hand off of the play begins. Although, as a director, I am of course needed through opening night, this subtle shift in control and responsibility starts in that last week before tech where, with each passing rehearsal the show becomes less and less mine and more and more the actors’ and Stage Manager’s production. As producer and director I’m always still up to my ears in the production until the end – it is not a rare occurence that I’m at every single performance, but officially, I start handing my baby over to others to let it find its legs. It’s always an exciting time in the life of a show (and also a teensy bit sad).

So, now, we head into tech week and I get back to that pregnancy story-too long and yet too short. So, for those of you not particularly familiar with theater…how to describe tech week? Organized chaos? The definition of chaos theory? Chaotic? (Are you sensing a theme?) I can’t speak to what it is like on Broadway, or even Off-Broadway (though I suspect, that though there’s more money in those worlds, it’s not that different from the off-off-Broadway environment) in low-budget, independent theater it’s like this: You remember finals week from school? The lack of sleep, the intense studying, the feeling like at any moment some little thing will go wrong and you’ll ruin your entire future in one fell swoop? Remember the fear but also the exhilaration that a screw up, as bad as it would be, would launch your life in a totally new and unexpected direction? Remember the stress building up so much that sometimes you needed a primal scream or two to get you through the day? That’s amateur hour compared to tech week. Pfft. Child’s play. And the director/producer keeps all the plates spinning; makes sure all the decisions get made – God I love this job.

My tech week will (most likely) look like this:

It will begin with load-in. VERY early in the morning, I’ll make my way to the space and open up the theater and get my first good look since we booked it. I’ll realize exactly how big a playing area it is and start to envision what the final

The hat in the foreground as the owner of the hat (Molly) hangs lights in the background (on the ladder – I guess less backgound than mid-ground).

product will actually look like. If possible, I’ll sit for a minute, on the stage, by myself, before anyone else arrives, and just soak in the empty-theater-ness of the place – that feeling of potential magic that an empty theater practically oozes. Then, I’ll meet up with the tech director and start unloading the set from the truck. Soon after that, or during that, some helpers will arrive, as will the order from the lighting rental house. We’ll hang lights, and put set together and throughout the day we’ll prep the dressing room, and clean the space. The costume designer will drop off costumes and the projections designer will start testing images in the space. We’ll have some sound tests of the speakers and slowly but surely, an empty open space will turn into the world of Bella’s Dream. And then we’ll do it all again (well not the unloading the set part, just the turning the empty space into Bella’s Dream part) the next day. Tuesday, Molly and I will test out every set piece and walk the pathways of the show for safety – as a director, I’ve always said, I won’t ask any actor to do something I wouldn’t feel 100% safe doing myself and as a stage manager, Molly would say the same so only after we test everything and know it’s safe will we hand set pieces off to actors. We’ll also glow tape the crap out of everything so that the backstage looks like the game grid from TRON. Then, Tuesday night, the actors will arrive and we’ll have our first walk through of the show in the actual space. Wednesday will be a long tech day, doing recordings and filmings for elements that are featured within the show, costume fittings, and general tech stuff before we start to really look at the lights and hear the sounds and see the projections, projected larger than life on the screen. Thursday is our cue to cue. For those not familiar with a cue to cue, it is exactly that, it is the whole show but just going from technical cue to technical cue. It is an absolute necessity but usually a hard and tiring day for all. Friday will be run throughs, Saturday will be run throughs and dress rehearsal and then Sunday – we’re off to the races with our preview!

…and in the end, though everything will somehow get done, none of it will happen exactly the way I’ve planned or expected – it’s the nature of the beast – and I’ll have to shift plans on the fly…but, either way, Sunday night, we will have a show…speaking of which, have you bought tickets yet? Preview tickets are only $12! All other tickets $18. Be sure to pick up your tickets ASAP – only 15 performances.

So, yeah, that’s tech week. I’ll do another blog post as soon as I can to let you all know how it went but the best way to know for certain is to come see the show. See you at the theater!

I can’t believe that we’re already done with three weeks of rehearsal. This has been an incredibly exciting week. We did our first run though on Saturday which allowed designers to really see what we’re doing with the show. I’m so please I managed not to cause any heart attacks, particularly from Sam, the Lighting Designer, as he realized exactly how much of the very large playing area I’m using and therefore he will need to light. He took it like a champ, truly. And Amanda, Costume, and Andre, Projections also were able to see, respectively, how the costumes would need to move on the actors and dancers, and how and when the actors and dancers would be moving in front of the projection screen. But for me, the most exciting thing was to see the whole show, from start to finish, as I haven’t seen it (or at least haven’t heard it) since our very first read through a whole 3 weeks ago…And it’s extraordinary to see it come together, (if in fits and starts considering it was our first run through) and more importantly see how it will come together over the next two weeks as props, costumes, sets, and other tech elements begin to get added in.

For anyone not interested in my musings about the directing process – feel free to skip this and the next paragraphs. For everyone else, enjoy: Recently I was accepted to an SDC Symposium on Play Directing, which will be happening a week from Monday and as part of the symposium, I was asked to send in a bio and think about my directing style and that exercise gave me the opportunity to try to observe, “what exactly it is that I do when I direct.” It was a really interesting exercise for me. It turns out I do in fact have a method, it’s just so ingrained in how I do this whole theater thing that I never realized it was a method. I already talked about my process during the first week of rehearsals which is usually a lot of discussion and some improv centered around who the characters are and what their relationships are to the other folks in the play. And then we move into blocking and that’s really just me figuring out where exactly I want everyone to go on stage. Sometimes that’s instinctual and sometimes it’s not but it always eventually comes. The really nice thing about blocking is that usually, when it doesn’t look right, it also doesn’t feel right for the actors and before I say anything about it they sort of self adjust – or stop what they’re doing, look me in the eye and say “dude, this is crazysauce – not gonna work,” and we fix it together. So the blocking and character stuff is usually pretty straightforward. Kind of the utility work of the process. But scene work? Ah, scene work is where the magic happens. Scene work is the art…at least to me.

When it comes to scene work, turns out I have a method here too but this method is a little different (or maybe it’s not. Sidney Lumet has a famous line that I absolutely love and agree with: “directing is like sex. Everybody does it, but you’re not quite sure you’re doing it right, and you’re always curious about how other people are doing it.” It’s totally true, so maybe my method isn’t different at all but whether it is or not, this is how I do it.) Basically, I have the actors do the scene and I observe it. I ask them how they’re feeling with it. If it feels right to them. And then, if it doesn’t feel like it’s working for me, I change something. Usually working outward from the periphery characters in to the main character in the scene. Basically, I just keep changing things. Kind of like throwing a bunch of stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. Shifts, adjustments, suggestions, notes, until the scene starts to take shape. Usually I see something. One of the many times through the scene I see that spark and know in my gut – “ooh, that! Do that!” and then I usually jump up and down a little and actually say – “ooh, that! Do that!” Somewhere during that process the final scene really takes shape. It’s amazing to watch it happen. And, although it always follows a particular format, it’s different every time because each actor and each role and each experience is always different from whatever came before. The other thing is that, with all this work, even when it’s Right-with-a-capital-R, things will change, things will continue to grow. Because, theater is organic. Theater is alive. Theater changes with each performance and each experience. It’s one of those things I love soooooo much about theater. And it’s a joy to be a part of.

But, I digress (I seem to do that alot but then again, I guess that’s kind of how blogs work, right?) ANYWHO…so THIS WEEK, we will continue with scene work and we’ll have a chance to do nitpicky fixes of moments that aren’t quite working but by the weekend we’ll be into full run-throughs and our chance to fix major moments will be over. It’s fast. Every show I marvel at how fast it goes. But I digress aGAIN. Monday, S**T gets real! – we load in to the Flamboyan at CSV and the sets and costumes and lights and sound and projections and everything technical starts to come together. Tech officially begins and though I’m hoping I’ll find a way to do the “4 weeks down…1 to go” blog post – I’m saying it now, don’t hold your breath waiting for it. It will most likely not come until the night before we open.

Also, there’s still two weeks left on our Rockethub campaign. Thank you to everyone who has donated so far and for everyone else out there be sure to check out the sight and join the Bella’s Dream family. Get cool rewards, watch the awesome teaser video (put together by yours truly – I know, I’m so modest), read updates on the project from me and Dana Boll – (multi-hyphenate extraordinaire) playwright, choreographer, actor and co-producer and support the show even before we open.

Speaking of opening night – TICKETS ARE ON SALE NOW!!!!! Be sure to snap up your tickets as soon as you can. They’re selling like…well not quite like hotcakes…but what’s the next fastest seller? And, if the $18 ticket price is a bit too steep, keep in mind there are discounted $12 preview tickets available for June 16th at 5pm.

See you at the theater!

In addition to the one-on-ones we also had meetings/rehearsals with pairs or small groups of actors, which allowed us to discuss the relationships these characters have with each other and what they mean to each other. On a show like this, with many, short scenes, an enormous cast, and multiple actors playing multiple characters, I find the discussions incredibly helpful for finding a way in to the show.

After character discussions were done, we dove in to the blocking. Having the full ensemble at rehearsal and starting to figure out where everyone is going on the ENORMOUS stage? Well, it is alternately, exciting, moving, thrilling, frustrating, and, to be honest, exhausting. After all, it’s 14 bodies to move around an atypical space with some visual obstructions for some members of the audience. I’m still not sure how I’ll make it work, but this team is so amazing. Giving, and experimental, excited and really REALLY fun! Throughout the process it’s been so exhillerating to find those little moments when what I had in my head translates into a goose-bump inducing moment on stage…then again, sometimes it’s only through putting the actors on the stage that the I realize the moment I had carefully choreographed in my head looks like crap and I have to start from scratch. What I’m loving with this group though is that in those moments, when my initial thoughts turn out to be not-so-brilliant and I throw it out to the cast and say “this is what I’m trying to achieve” it’s just wonderful to see them jump in with suggestions – to all put our heads together to “solve it.” I was going to say, “It’s moments like that when I truly love my job,” but honestly, I can’t think of many times when I don’t truly love this job.

A word about warm ups – I’ve been doing something new on this show and actually leading a warm up circle at the start of most of the full ensemble rehearsals. Normally, I just let the actors warm up (or not, whatever they prefer) on their own time, but with a cast this large I’m finding it’s great to get everyone moving and shake out the cobwebs together. It also seems to be a nice bonding tool and it builds energy and it acts as this really nice sort of line of demarcation between the world we’re in every day and the world of Bella’s Dream…Oh, and also, it gives us, as the production team, the opportunity to thank our Rockethub donors for their contributions!

Speaking of Rockethub, have you checked out our preview on the Rockethub site? No? Oh my goodness, let me be sure to give you the link: http://www.rockethub.com/projects/24082-bella-s-dream We’re cruising along with our fundraising and are already 30% funded but we could still use your help. Please check out the video, read the production updates, support the show and/or tell your friends. I’ve said this repeatedly on my Facebook posts but it bears repeating here – as I do with most of my projects, I see this show as a very special, unique little family and I want our audience, our supporters to be a part of that family. So, please join the Bella’s Dream family. Donations at any level will help us make this show everything it can be!

Ok, plug over. But I digress, where was I? Right, warm-ups. Although I don’t usually lead warm ups, on this show, it’s been really fun to watch the actors explore movement and sound expression within the warm-ups and it’s led to some great discoveries that filter down into the rest of the rehearsal process…oh, and I can’t thank Stevenson Carlebach enough for introducing me to the theater game “Pass the Trash”. So, Stevenson, if you are reading this – THANK YOU!

Friday night we had our second full production meeting. Brian, our set designer, brought out the scale model of the set (no pictures folks, sorry. Come on, y’all know how spoiler-averse I am. I want it to be a surprise) and everyone jumped in to discussions about what will be where and power supply issues, and how do we light the stage, and where does the projector screen go, and what are we doing with the costumes, and on, and on, and then an amazing thing happened – Dan, our technical director, kept us all on task with simple statements like “Ok, that’s what set needs. Moving on to Lights.” It is an absolute thrill to see this team of talented, amazing designers and technicians doing their thing.

A sad note: our original costume designer had a family emergency and needed to drop out of the project. After frantic emails to all of my theater friends, I was able to find the amazing, Amanda Jenks, an extraordinary costume designer, who was available to step in to take Scott’s place. Scott has been wonderful helping get Amanda up to speed and continuing to help the production where he can (all I’m going to say is The Caspian Sea and y’all will see what that means when you see the show) and Amanda has been amazing about just jumping in and running with it. We were very sad to lose Scott but so thrilled to have Amanda, and her assistant Maria, stepping in.

Although we didn’t finish blocking the show (that’s for this week), we rounded out the week of rehearsals with a little Memorial Day BBQ. And though this was not strictly a Bella’s Dream affair, members of the cast and crew came to party it up, eat the delicous grilled foods, the vegan coconut macaroons (don’t let the “vegan” fool you – those things are awesome!) and kick back and just socialize without much talk of the show. If only we had the time, I would seriously round out every week of rehearsals with a massive BBQ in my backyard. It was such fun.

For the week coming up, we have lots planned – we finish blocking the show (actually, we’ll be doing that in about an hour so I should probably go get ready for rehearsal) and then we jump in to scene work. I usually try very hard not to give any sort of acting notes in blocking rehearsals. Since, for me, blocking rehearsals are really about, “this is where you enter the stage and this is where you exit,” it’s not important to delve into, “are you going to do the line like that?” kind of discussions. That’s for scene work, which I’m so excited to begin!

So, two weeks down and three to go…and I can’t wait to see what this week brings!

Tickets for Bella’s Dream are on sale now on our main page: www.goingtotahitiproductions.com

See you at the theater!