Category Archives: Theater Musings

The Invisible Sh*t (whose name is fear) That Holds You Back

It’s funny how much stuff can affect you. I’ve talked (and written) about this incident a lot – a journal entry when it happened, an essay in college, a blog post now – but sometimes seemingly innocent things blindside you with their importance, and this experience clearly has become (for me) a bit of a meditation on the nature of fear and, darn it, if I’m not still learning from it. Here’s the latest I’ve come to understand:

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

Have Chutzpah…

This time of year my thoughts always turn to graduation. Growing up as the daughter of two college professors, I can’t help but think, when May rolls around, of donning a cap and gown and walking down that aisle, up onto that stage and getting that diploma. My college graduation was particularly special because I went to school where my parents teach, (well, taught, dad’s retired and mom’s two weeks from retirement) so, at my graduation it was my dad who actually handed me my diploma. (And fifteen years later it was my dad who pronounced me married at my wedding (but that’s a story for another time)). Anywho,  my college graduation was pretty special.

 

And every year, as the weather starts to warm and we have those first real days of recognizing that the winter is truly over (though this year, I don’t entirely believe it) and the allergies start acting up for real, I can’t help  but think of a particular commencement speech. It was not actually the speech delivered at my graduation. To be honest, I don’t even remember who spoke at my graduation, let alone what he or she said. No, this particular speech was over ten years before my time and was one that, until the wonders of being able to look up just about anything on the internet, I had only ever heard about second hand from my mom:

In 1980, another dad got to play a special role in his daughter’s graduation. I don’t know if he actually handed his daughter her diploma, but that graduation, Alan Alda delivered the Connecticut College commencement address. His daughter was in attendance, graduating from the school and he not only delivered a beautiful speech that could have applied to each of the graduates present, he also managed to make it a personal bit of advice from a dad to his daughter. The whole speech is beautiful and powerful (why else would my mom still talk about it almost 25 years later) and can be read here. But there’s a particular passage that I feel applies today. Towards the end of the speech Mr. Alda gave his daughter, and all of her fellow graduates, the following advice:

“I want you to have chutzpah. Nothing important was ever accomplished without chutzpah. Columbus had chutzpah. The signers of the Declaration of Independence had chutzpah. Don’t ever aim your doubt at yourself. Laugh at yourself, but don’t doubt yourself. Whenever you wonder about yourself, look up at the stars swirling around in the heavens and just realize how tiny and puny they are. They’re supposed to be gigantic explosions and they’re just these insignificant little dots. If you step back from things far enough you realize how important and powerful you are. Be bold. Let the strength of your desire give force and moment to your every step. Move with all of yourself. When you embark for strange places don’t leave any of yourself safely on shore. They may laugh at you if you don’t discover India. Let them laugh. India’s already there. You’ll come back with a brand new America. Have the nerve to go into unexplored territory. Be brave enough to live life creatively. The creative is the place where no one else has ever been. It is not the previously known. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You can’t get there by bus, only by hard work and risk and by not quite knowing what you’re doing, but what you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover will be yourself.”

 

I can’t even with this. No, I’m serious. Did you read that? I know it’s a long passage, but this isn’t just an excuse for me to avoid coming up with a long blog post of my own. It’s important. It’s powerful advice from a successful man about a crazy, competitive, unpredictable business. But it’s more than that – it’s poetry, man. It’s frakking poetry. I feel like I want to claim this as a manifesto for myself and for GTTP.

 

Because, here’s a little secret, Gentle Readers – it’s all true. You need to be bold. You need to not doubt. You need to let the strength of your desire give force and moment to your every step. You need to move with all of yourself. You need to NOT LEAVE ANY OF YOURSELF SAFELY ON SHORE. It’s about the leap. It’s about being brave. It’s about embracing the unknown. It’s about having the nerve, having the chutzpah. It’s about leaving the city of your comfort and going into the wilderness of your intuition. It’s about hard work and risk and NOT QUITE KNOWING WHAT YOU’RE DOING. It’s the only way you’ll find greatness. It’s the only way you’ll find yourself. And, it’s what we’re doing here at Tahiti. To be honest it’s what we’ve been doing all along, but now, we’re about to do it in a bigger and scarier way then we ever have before. Not only are we about to make a television show – yup, an honest-to-god tv show, but we’re also about to exist in two mediums simultaneously. Next week, I will head down to Virginia for a pre-production meeting with my UPM (that’s Unit Production Manager to the non-film folks), my Associate Producers and my Writer/Co-producer, as well as our first big fundraising event, and our first official location scout with our Locations Manager. And, while I’m off gallivanting in Virginia and prepping Farm Story, Molly will take the reins here and start prepping her next project – a theater-beyond-words piece derived from the music of Camilla Ammirati and text of Alexis Roblan.

And, yup, that means I’m about to give up a bit of control (yes it is actually that hard for me to even conceive of such a thing, despite the fact that I couldn’t have chosen better hands to leave GtTTheater in than Molly’s). GTTP is about to have its first theatrical show that I will have very little involvement in. Although I’ll be around and consulting and I’ll still be blogging about and talking about it, it really won’t be mine at all. It’s time to let the GtTTheater fly without me for a bit – don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m done with theater, not by a long shot – in fact, come October, I’ll be back in the rehearsal room with Molly for our Fall show – but for the next few months, I will be taking a bit of break to focus on television and as Farm Story moves forward, and Molly takes the reigns of our newest theatrical adventure, we will try to follow Mr. Alda’s advice. We will be bold. We will be brave. We will have chutzpah!

REVIEW – Tongue in Cheek’s BUFFALO HEIGHTS

 

Disclaimer – despite what this may look like from the first paragraph, this is a review for Tongue In Cheek’s production of their original play, Buffalo Heights, and, spoiler alert — I totally loved it…

After/Since Within Arm’s Reach ended, I’ve been thinking a lot — and I mean A LOT — about what we, as GTTP, do and where we fit in the off-off-Broadway landscape. I believe I have mentioned here before that it’s always tricky to get an audience, to get butts in the seats — not just because we’re a small company who can’t afford to hire a big PR firm to get the buzz going but also because we focus on original work. And though we do great stuff, it’s unknown stuff so we don’t have the built in audience of a production of Guys and Dolls, or West Side Story…or, if we’re talking plays, The Glass Menagerie or Our Town. You see, I didn’t start GTTP just for the fun of it, and Molly (now that there’s a Molly) and I aren’t doing it just for the heck of it. Partially we’re doing it because we have no choice — we’re directors. And if we don’t have a project we have trouble functioning in the world but also, we do this because we want this little theater thing we do to become, if not a profitable enterprise, at least a break even enterprise. And, as Annie Savoy says in the film Bull Durham, “baseball may be a religion full of magic, cosmic truth, and the fundamental ontological riddles of our time, but it’s also a job.” And I feel that way about theater and GTTP — theater may be a passion, a necessity, a religion to us practitioners, but it’s also a job. We want it to pay our bills not just our souls. So, when I think about all of this and I think about the complexities of finding an audience and reaching out to the universe (especially the NYC theater-going universe) I inevitably think about competition. I think about other theater companies that are like us, who do similar things to what we do and it’s very easy to tip into jealousy and envy and it can sometimes be hard to enjoy watching what others do (even when it impresses me) if I see them as competition. Then again, as self-centered as it sounds, I always know how impressed I am with a production if my appreciation busts through that mask of jealousy and envy and I walk away from it just loving what I’ve seen…

Jake Lipman and Shelley Little in BUFFALO HEIGHTS. Photo credit: Maeghan Donohue

Which brings me to Tongue In Cheek. As I have mentioned before, Tongue In Cheek Productions is a theater company that I love. In the past few years I’ve seen 3 shows from TIC – Our Town, The Mistakes Madeleine Made, and How I Learned to Drive, and I’ve been impressed by all of them. In many ways, I think of TIC as a sister company to GTTP. TIC is a small company that’s been around for more than a couple years but fewer than ten. TIC was created by and is run by a woman, Jake Lipman. They use a core ensemble of players but also uses outside actors on a by production basis, they also won a Puffin Grant, and, a lot of their set pieces are from Ikea. ;) I also think of Jake as a friend. I love her directing and her acting and I’m always excited to see what she does. However, with all those similarities and more, up until recently the company differed from GTTP in one key way — TIC focused on revivals. That changed with their most recent production, the original piece, commissioned and developed by Tongue in Cheek Theater Productions, Buffalo Heights. 

Buffalo Heights is a new comedy which follows new teacher, Fran, on her first semester teaching French at Buffalo Heights High. When controversy erupts at the school, Fran (Jake Lipman) encounters unexpected adversaries and allies.

Nina Leese and Allison Lemel in BUFFALO HEIGHTS. Photo credit: Maeghan Donohue

To be honest, although I always enjoy TIC’s work, I was wary about seeing Buffalo Heights  for a couple of reasons — #1) You know, this isn’t what TIC normally does, what if it wasn’t any good and I had to find something to tell Jake after the show — “uh, that was interesting” — without saying, “yeah, stick to what you know.” or more likely #2) What if it’s amazing and it’s better than what GTTP does and it’s incredible and brilliant, and now TIC decides to abandon revivals all together and only do original works and become direct competition for GTTP and what if they do it better than us and what if nobody wants to see GTTP anymore because TIC is doing the same thing but they’re doing it better and what if my jealousy ruins my friendship with Jake and I, and they, and we, and, and, and, after all this is our little pond, what if there isn’t room enough for both of us and, and, and… (as you can see, I can spiral out of control pretty easily).

BUT guess what happened? I saw the show and it was awesome. It was witty and fun and thought provoking and surprising. First off, the show was wonderfully performed (as I’ve come to expect from TIC shows). Jake (as Fran), was terrific as the outsider character entering an unjust community and finding herself in the middle of a fight she hadn’t expected. Shelley Little was hilarious balancing the officiousness of an ambitious school principal with a desire to still be a friend to Fran. Joe Mullen, as the hapless security guard, effortlessly crossed the line between sweet and innocent and totally skeevy (I mean that in the best possible way), and then back again. Nina Leese was fun as the local congresswoman so focused on the politics of her career that she is blind to the behavior of her own daughter. Allison Lemel found a perfect level of obnoxious, self centered teenager when portraying the “running for Class President” Piper. And Matthew Whitfield was fantastic, rebellious and lovable, as the reformed stoner student who dares to enter into competition with Piper. But, of course none of this is a surprise. You see Jake is one of those directors who knows the best way to make her job easier is to cast well — and she always delivers.

And then there was the play itself — devised by the TIC Ensemble cast with playwright Adam Harrell, Buffalo Heights is really funny. Again, as expected from a TIC show, I found myself laughing out loud throughout the show. But, more importantly, as a person who has seen A LOT of theater and film and television, and so is not often surprised by where a plot goes, what I really enjoyed about Buffalo Heights was the fact that during the show there were several moments where I thought to myself, “oh, this is that plot line” or “oh, so if we’re coming from here, we’re going to end up there” and? I was wrong every time — which was awesome, surprising, and downright fun.

Matthew Whitfield and Jake Lipman in BUFFALO HEIGHTS. Photo Credit: Maeghan Donohue

So, here’s what it boils down to: #1) Go see Buffalo Heights. #2) Much to my surprise (yes, I’ll admit to my petty jealousies), I hope this is only the first of many original productions from TIC, because seriously, they know what they’re doing! (Again, this is not acutally a surprise, it’s just, wow! Good stuff all around! I love their revivals but it turns out I love their original work too. And, most importantly, #3) It looks like seeing Buffalo Heights set off a little paradigm shift in my mind when it comes to comparing myself and GTTP to other companies of our ilk, to seeing ourselves in competition with them and others, and here it is — you ready? So, not to get all hippy dippy or anything, but… THERE IS NO COMPETITION! I don’t mean that in the sense that one of us is so much better than the other that it blows the other one out of the water but I mean this as an actual, literal — there. Is. No. Competition! It’s so easy in this business to see everything as a competition — “but that’s our money”, “that’s our audience,” “you can’t be good too because then those same people will go see your shows and not mine”. But it doesn’t have to be that way. The sandbox is big enough for us all to play in — especially, when it’s Tongue In Cheek that we’re talking about — and, when it comes to TIC, I’ll even share my shovel and pail…look, Ma. I’m growing.

Buffalo Heights runs May 13th – 17th at The Bridge Theater in Shetler Studios, 244 West 54th Street, 12th Floor. Tickets available here.

Wrapping up WITHIN ARM’S REACH…

I know I’ve been a bit silent on the blog lately…the combination of temporarily shifting the blog posts to the Rockethub page and the end of the show itself (followed by the post show depression that always accompanies that) have lead to a real dearth of posts here on our main blog. But, fear not, gentle readers. I’m back and with me so are the blog posts. SO, let me do a little wrap up on Within Arm’s Reach, and then I’ll get to what’s next.

As far as the wrap up is concerned, Within Arm’s Reach was a dream. Despite, a short tech (and a tall projection area), a big stage (and a small budget), too many technical cues (and too few technicians), a large cast (and a tiny dressing room…(I kid, the dressing room was nice sized for the group and had its own bathroom)), but seriously despite a bunch of things that seemed like they would be stumbling blocks to getting the show off the ground, the performances soared. I’m going to take a moment here to pat ourselves on the back  (and then I’ll return to the modest, humble, Jess that I know you all love) –  Molly and I did a damn fine job with the adaptation – capturing the spirit, mood and characters of the book. And, across the board, the cast was superb. They took these characters and ran with them, creating a moving study of 6 months in the lives of the McLaughlin Family. The designers, again working with very little time, (and even less money), brought the world vividly to life and did so with smiles on their faces. And directing this bunch – cast and crew – was a pleasure from top to bottom. I will also say that though there were stresses (there always are during tech) and though there were a couple of all-nighters (that’s to be expected with a 3 day tech) the tech “week” for Within Arm’s Reach was quite possibly the smoothest and most enjoyable I’ve ever experienced. And, because I can’t resist, I’m just going to mention that this was an all female creative team…short on time and money and absolutely no (zero, zip, zilch) strife…could it be the all female group? I leave it to you to be the judge…

So, yeah, the show went beautifully. We’re putting together a real photo array, but, in the meantime, for those of you who didn’t get a chance to see the show, below is a selection of production stills…

Do I wish we had had larger audiences? Yes, as always, yes. Do I wish we had been able to bring in a bit more money with the show? Again, yes, as always, yes. But I also know the world we’re in. I know that original work on the stage is tough to bring an audience to. I know that low budget means there isn’t always money for the massive publicity push of a larger show and so we’ll keep doing what we’re doing (the slowest of slow builds) and know that if the work is consistently good, eventually the audience will find us, and keep coming back…that and know that our next big payday we’re hiring the marketer of all marketers to get more butts in the seats!

Alas though, now this show is ended. The props have been stowed. The set pieces are safely ensconced in Molly and my apartments. The costumes have been cleaned and stored. The bills have been paid. …and the depression has set in for real…so now what? Now, Molly and I strategize about what’s next. While we are both working on projects separate from GTTP – Molly, on a workshop production of I, Salome by Joseph Samuel Wright and me on The Jane Games, the web series by Jennifer Teska and Laura Riley, that I’m directing (on which I’m about to jump into the editing stage) – we’re also planning what’s next for GTTP. As always, GTTP is moving forward – onward and upward to the next project. And that next theatrical production will most likely be a new movement/theater piece from Molly, hopefully to be performed in June and for me, I will soon be jumping (and taking GTTP with me) completely into Farm Story, GTTP’s first foray into web series production. If all goes according to plan, we will start filming in September. In addition to that, Molly and I are looking to do another round of workshops and hopefully a reading series of new plays. Stay tuned for details!!!

And, once again, because I didn’t say this yet in this specific blog post – THANK YOU, ALL!!! Thank you for supporting GTTP! Thank you for coming out to see our work. Thanks to everyone who made it out for Within Arm’s Reach. Thanks to everyone who donated on RocketHub and directly. Thank you for being a part of the GTTP Family. Without you all, GTTP would be nothing and me? I’d just be directing traffic…and seriously? That’s one thing I have no interest in directing.

Things we’re thankful for at GTTP…

In honor of Thanksgiving, this year, Molly and I decided to compile a little list of the 10 things we at GTTP are most thankful for. So, here goes:

Jason Bolen (set designer) and Becky Sagen (lighting designer) during tech for DREAMERS OF THE DAY.

10) Source Material – we can’t say enough about the amazing books, short stories, songs, images, interviews, poetry, nursery rhymes, myths and other source material that is out there to make theater from. The goal of GTTP is to create innovative and exciting new work, and we couldn’t do what we do without the ideas that come out of the great source material that is already out there.

9) Audience – that’s right, folks. I’m talking about you wonderful people who come to see our work, who look at the flyer or the facebook post, or the newsletter and say, “Oh, it’s a Going to Tahiti Production? I’m there!” If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it does it make a sound? Well, we at GTTP believe, that if we do a show and NO ONE is there to see it, it’s not the show we mean it to be. So, whether it’s 1 or 100 of you, you as our audience make GTTP what we are. THANK YOU!

8) Donors – in all fairness this really goes hand in hand with number 9 above because most often there is a fair crossover between these two categories, but, we did want to specifically remark on how thankful we are to all of you who not just come out to see the show but who also donate to the productions, the company, and the dream that is GTTP. THANK YOU!

7) Crew – I mean, this is how I found Molly…really does more need to be said? Whether it is designers who create the look and feel of a show, stage managers who make the show run, or interns and running crew who do those jobs that fall through the cracks during a show and yet still must get done, GTTP could not function without the wonderful men and women who crew our shows.

Actress and ensemble member Kiwi Callahan at rehearsal for DREAMERS OF THE DAY.

6) Actors – Molly and I are both directors, but honestly, without actors, we may aswell be directing traffic. We, of course, couldn’t do it without those incredible actors who choose to grace our stages, and for a brief moment, our lives. Thanks, folks!

5) Ensemble Members – Part of why we do theater is to be a part of a community – a family – of artists who understand what we do and why we do it. For Molly and me, GTTP ensemble members are the core group of that family. We are so thankful to have them in our lives.

4) Performance Space – Whether it is a proper theatre, the great outdoors, or someone’s living room, every show needs a stage. And, with space at a premium and so many theaters closing, it is so amazing to have a space for each show to call home. Along those lines, we’d like to have a specific “Thank you shout out to Shetler Studios and The Secret Theatre”. These two spaces have been invaluable to genetic code of GTTP and we couldn’t function without them.

Cast and running crew from JANE AUSTEN’S PERSUASION.

3) Transitory Nature of Theater – As frustrating as it may sometimes be to look back at a performance and realize that there is no record of the event beyond some production stills (and the props and costumes that take up closet space in my – and my parents’s (sorry, mom and dad- I will seriously pick up those camel/stools from Dreamers of the Day any day now) homes), there is something truly wonderful about the fact that any given performance is just a moment in time and then, it’s gone. If you miss it you miss it, but if you were there, and you saw it, that moment has the potential to stay with you for the rest of your life.

2) The Excitement of “What’s Next” – As much as we love each project we work on, there’s always something new on the horizon (see number 3 above). For Molly and me, as the show gets handed off to the actors and the stage manager and they take it through the home stretch of performance, we, as directors, though sad to let go, are simultaneously excited about what next project we’ll be sinking our teeth into . . . And can’t wait to jump in.

But most of all, we are thankful that:

1) With all the entertainment options out there, with the movies and television and youtube and the interwebs and smartphones and everything, that, in the end, people still crave and love live theater. We’d be nowhere without that.

Thank you thank you thank you!

Thanksgiving pie…’nuff said!

. . . and now we’re off to have leftover pie! Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

From the Rehearsal Room – THE SANDMAN’S COMING Director, Molly Ballerstein

Today we have a guest blog post from Molly Ballerstein, director and writer of The Sandman’s Coming. Here’s what she had to say about the process of creating this haunting and beautiful show. Have you bought your tickets yet?

(left to right) Molly demonstrates a scene for actors Lantie Tom and Luke Wise during rehearsal.

I’m going to be honest with you all, I’ve been trying to write this for weeks. It always starts the same: “I can’t believe it’s been over a year,” as this thought has stayed with me constantly throughout this second incarnation of The Sandman’s Coming. Now that we are half way through the run I’m practically speechless. A year ago I had a form of this story I wanted to share, a choreographer, and acceptance into the Frigid Festival guaranteeing us five shows. The Frigid Festival production yielded one THEASY reviewer to comment:

“The Sandman’s Coming is a highly ambitious and ultimately effective exploration that engages dance, media, sound, and familiar nursery rhymes in its storytelling. Theatrical, unexpected, and vivid, Sandman is important both in its topic and in its ingenuity.”

At the end of the festival I knew the story telling was not complete; I had heard a lot of great feedback from my New York writing premiere and was excited to embark on the refining process…in the future. A small break from The Sandman’s Coming led to me getting involved with Going to Tahiti Productions, which led to Jessica agreeing to co-produce The Sandman’s Coming for the fall and bring me on board GTTP.

It has been quite the process to start this show from scratch. I have always enjoyed working in a more collaborative/round table structure then the typical theatre hierarchy but this show has been my opportunity to test that. To explore the options collaborating brings about while being a hybrid or slashy (director/writer/producer) myself has put my stress levels to the

The same scene in performance, with the addition of actress Jill Rittinger.

limits. This had its successes and failures especially as the time crunch came upon us. It has also proven to me that in order to tell a story effectively everyone’s heart needs to be in it. To have the pleasure of working with artist’s that are invested in the story has been a journey and the longer I work on the show the more personal stories I hear about how addiction has affected the lives of my collaborators.  I have worked with many amazing artists along the way and everyone involved in this process will always have a special place in my mind.

Along with exploring the boundaries of labels within the process, I have worked to redefine my process of directing. With the original idea of this story I wanted to explore the disconnect between what you hear and what you see. Communication has always been a key topic in my work and although I had previously pulled away from my dance roots something about this story made me want to revisit them. To use dance and stylized pedestrian movements as the primary means of communicating with the audience is by no means a unique way of storytelling; however, exploring this with text that only breaks the third wall and is never used to communicate between characters on stage has been quite the adventure. I hope that you will join me in this process as the ears, eyes, and heart for the story to be told to.

The Sandman’s Coming 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.

Molly Ballerstein is a New York City director, writer, designer and stage manager as well as being the co-Executive Producer/co-Managing Director of GTTP. You can follow Molly on Twitter @FedoraMolly.

Happy Birthday to Molly and Jess…

Workshops and Seminars and Classes, oh my!

When Molly came on board as GTTP’s Co-Managing Director/Co-Executive Producer, we sat down and started planning the 2013-14 season. We knew that right out of the gate we wanted to do something new, something different, and something that would change the Tahiti Status Quo and one of the first things we talked about were the workshops/classes/seminars I’ve wanted to jump into since I first started this whole theater thing. After all, I’m the daughter of two teachers, there’s no way teaching isn’t in my blood. BUT, the thought of it was a bit daunting – how do you plan a workshop? where would we do it? what if no one showed up? So, we did the only thing we could think of – ignore that “Doubting Thomas Voice” and just jump in. BTW, the answer to those three questions are as follows:

1) You just do it – decide what you want to say and teach, and then plan a curriculum that says and teaches it.

2) We’ll do it at Shetler Studios – after all, we have this lovely performance space that we are currently using for performances only in the evenings (except for our weekend matinees)…perhaps we should capitalize on that fact and use the space during the day as well.

3) We’ll figure they just haven’t found us yet and do the workshops again in a few weeks…undaunted is truly the ONLY way to do independent theater in NYC.

And then we realized that the week we wanted to do the workshops – the full week between the opening and closing of The Sandman’s Coming (oh, have you bought your tickets yet?) is the week between my and Molly’s birthdays* – that’s right, folks, we now have two, count ‘em TWO Scorpios running this thing. So, as a little birthday celebration, we have planned 3 very exciting workshops:

Workshop

On Tuesday, October 29th, from 2-5pm we’ll be hosting an Improv Workshop for Actors and Non-Actors Alike. What makes this workshop really special to GTTP is that it’s being run by Improv Guru, Brett Wean. Now, many of you may not know Brett specifically but if you saw Full Disclosure by Ruth McKee, when we did that back in 2011, you saw some of his work. As a director, I find improvisation to be an invaluable tool in helping actors find their performances and when we did Full Disclosure, I brought Brett in specifically to work with Kiwi Callahan and help her find the world of Sunny Smith. Without him Full Disclosure would have been a VERY different show. And, one of the things I realized when I watched Brett and Kiwi work is that Improv is great for performance, yes, but it is also great for everyday life…and, if you don’t believe me, perhaps you’ll believe Tina Fey. Anywho, the point is, Improv workshop is happening. Join us. For tickets go to: eventbrite or our Shows and Events Page.

Seminar

On Wednesday, October 30th, from 10:30am-5:30pm Molly and I will be running an all day seminar that is very close to my heart. Targeted to Early Career Directors – Directing in NY is truly the seminar I wish I could have taken way back when…when I first moved to NY and started directing here. The goal of the seminar is to give a kind of overview of everything you’ll need to know to direct a show in NY – from the producing side – finding a space, following a budget, using the Actors’ Equity Showcase code; to communicating with your design team and crew –  directing may be a solitary job but you really can’t do it alone; to straight-up directing techniques – how do you analyze a scene, is improv helpful (spoiler alert – uh, yeah. see the paragraph above this one), how exactly do you direct? It should be a fun time and, at $175 for the day, for an all day seminar with lunch included, you know it’s a great deal. For tickets go to eventbrite or our Shows and Events Page.

Class

And then, on Thursday, October 31st, from 1-4pm (early enough for people to have time to go home and get into their Halloween costumes), we’re holding an Audition Class – Auditioning for Women. Seeing as GTTP is all about giving more opportunities for women in theater, it seemed appropriate to tailor a class around the women who obtain those “more opportunities”. And, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like women cast all that differently from men, but I do think there are some tips that actors would be interested in when approaching an audition.  In fact, I’ll give one away now for free – don’t call me girl. I know, it seems straightforward, and kinda obvious but I’ve lost count of the number of actors (all younger than me) who’ve said in an audition, “you girls might want to check it out” thereby insuring that, you know, I will never check it out. So, yeah, that’s a freebie, but there are some other great tips we’ll be covering in the Audition workshop. For tickets go to: eventbrite or our Shows and Events Page.

Oh My!

We hope to see you there and, of course, all proceeds from the workshops go to our continued production of quality Independent NY Theater. So, join us for a workshop, learn a little something, support GTTP and who knows where else it might lead…

*by the by, there will, most likely, be cake.

Five years is wood, right?

That’s right folks! As you may have seen in our newsletter, GTTP is FIVE YEARS OLD this month!!!!!

And, in celebration of this milestone, we’ll be having a whole bunch of events throughout the season, including shows (of course) – speaking of which, have you bought your tickets for The Sandman’s Coming? (I may have mentioned – they’re on sale now) – workshops (we’re planning two workshops – improv and audition skills – for October and several throughout the rest of the season – stay tuned for details), cabarets – we’re ironing out the details of a storytelling cabaret that will be happening during the run of The Sandman’s Coming (tickets on sale now) that we hope you will join us for – seminars (we’re currently putting together a seminar for early career directors – details to follow) and parties - at the very least we’re planning an anniversary celebration that should coincide nicely with the winter holidays – so we hope you will stay tuned…but, that is actually not what this post is about. This post is brought to you by the number 5 because this post is about our 5 year anniversary or our 5th birthday or however you want to look at it, this post about us having made it, in an over-satureated, theater town, to our 5th season!!! A milestone we would not have seen if it weren’t for all of you out there!!!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for your continued support. And, since this post is about a specific number, I thought I’d give it to you by the numbers – 10 to be exact – so here you go…

1 – as in – ONE DREAM that refused (and continues to refuse) to die. For me the dream of directing was so powerful that it started us all on this journey. It’s been a weird and wonderful trip so far – a dream trip, one might say, and I hope we’re just at the beginning…

2 – as in – the number of novels GTTP has adapted into stage productions (Dreamers of the Day, and Jane Austen’s Persuasion) – see our Past Productions page and previous blog posts for details on these amazing and exhilerating shows.

3 – as in – the third novel GTTP will adapt for the stage after we premiere our adaptation of Ann Napolitano’s Within Arm’s Reach, in late winter/early spring of 2014. I know, I know you’ve been hearing about this for over a year but it is now OFFICIALLY on the calendar, people! It is on the calendar and the script is halfway completed. We’re currently deciding on a performance venue and we are aiming for a late February/early March production run. Stay tuned for details.

4 – as in – the number of times GTTP has performed at The Secret Theatre. One of our all time favorite performance spaces, The Secret Theatre is consistently bringing new and innovative productions to their little corner of Long Island City – not so secret anymore. We hope to be back at our unofficial home in the spring, but in the meantime, if you’re looking for quality indy professional theater in Queens, check them out and take in a show.

5 – as in – we’re five years old, y’all!!!! Haven’t you been reading this post?

6 – as in – the number of theater women (who haven’t worked directly with GTTP and aren’t Tahitians per se but that) I have connected with thanks to/because of my work with GTTP. Connections I would not have made if GTTP didn’t exist – women I can’t imagine not having in my life. They include – Jane Dubin, producer - ANN, Peter and the Starcatcher and unFRAMED; Patricia Klausner, producer – Pippin; Caroline Rothstein, writer, performer and producer, http://bodyempowerment.tumblr.com/Bailie Slevin, a former theater professional who is now on a mission to bring fiscal health and education to the entertainment community – a mission she pursues through her company Entertaining FinanceMelanie Jones, writer, performer, dancer and producer – Endureand; last but not least Jake Lipman, actor, director, producer and founder of Tongue in Cheek Theater who will be doing a performance of How I Learned to Drive at the other Shetler Studios Theater during our run of The Sandman’s Coming. These women have been incredible – helpful, motivating, supportive, and generally wonderful people I’ve been honored to share the female theater community with. I hope that they are only the beginning of this circle of incredible theater women that GTTP has entered into.

7 – as in – the number of different aviatrices (the aviatrix is what we call our logo), our incomparable graphic designer, Christine Diaz, has designed to individually accompany each production (we don’t have one for Dreamers of the Day or the first In the Ebb  as we sadly hadn’t yet discovered the awesomeness that is Christine at the time we were doing those shows). When she came on board, she branded GTTP and continues to design all of our beautiful production art. To see all of the aviatrices, check out our About Us page.

8 – as in – the number of productions presented by GTTP since we opened our doors (curtains) - In the Ebb, by Camilla Ammirati, Dreamers of the Day, adapted from the novel by Mary Doria Russell, Skin Flesh Bone, by Camilla Ammirati, Full Disclosure, by Ruth McKee, Cat Lady without a Cat, by Carrie Keskinen, Jane Austen’s Persuasion, adapted for the stage by Laura Bultman, In the Ebb (Redux), by Camilla Ammirati and Bella’s Dream by Dana Boll. More details on each (except for Bella’s Dream because I haven’t had a chance to upload the pictures but will hopefully do it soon) can be found on our Past Productions page.

9 – as in – the number of productions we will have under our belts when The Sandman’s Coming opens on October 24th. Did I mention? Tickets are on sale now.

Which brings me to: 

10 – as in – years – our next big milestone – that, with your help, we’ll reach in another five.

Thanks for getting us here! We hope you’ll continue to join us on this extraordinary, exciting, incredible journey!

See you at the thater!!!!

Four weeks down…and ONLY ONE to go!!!!!

…and so it begins…

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!

 

Three weeks down and (Holy Good Lord) two to go…

That’s right folks – we are only two weeks from opening (two weeks and 4 hours to be exact). Actually, technically, our first performance is our preview on June 16th (special discounted tickets available here) so really we have less than two weeks until we open but the official opening night is June 18th.

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!

 

Two Weeks (and a BBQ) Down…

It is hard to believe that we’re already two weeks into rehearsals for Bella’s Dream. I feel like I blinked and went from “oh, the play is MONTHS away” to “OMG, the play opens in 3 weeks!” This week has been extraordinary! We spent the beginning of the week finishing our character work/discussions. I was reminded, once again, that there’s never enough time. When I was scheduling the “one-on-ones” with the actors – sometimes an hour, sometimes 45 minutes – I would think to myself, “oh, there’s no way we’re going to find an hour’s worth of stuff to delve into with this character(s). Man was I wrong. Every discussion was interesting and engaging and showed the depth of these charcters and each actor’s process of understanding them. Add to that that the majority of the actors are playing multiple characters and there was a LOT to discuss.

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!

 

One Week Down…

So! The first week of Bella’s Dream rehearsals has officially concluded…and what a week it has been.

The week started off, last Sunday, (a beautiful Mother’s Day afternoon), with the Bella’s Dream cast and crew stuck inside for our first read-through.

As I believe I mentioned on Facebook last week (and I know I mentioned to mom when I called her that night to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day), it was an absolute thrill to listen to the actors read the script out loud. Dana and I have been working on this iteration of the project without actors for the past 3 months, so, to hear the words read out loud in voices other than those in our heads, was truly a thrill. As a director, I already started seeing the ways I want to stage the show.

The team is a fantastic group of people and it is a joy to see my newest family forming. Immediately after the read-through and discussion, the designers and Dana and I sat down and started the ball rolling on our design discussion. I love many many things about my job, but there is little I love more than that first official day of a new project, when everyone is excited, the juices are flowing, and the ideas begin to take shape. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I floated home on a cloud that night…

The rest of the week was spent delving into character-work with the actors. We spent several days in discussion and improvisation finding who these people are and how we want to play them. With a project like Bella’s Dream, it’s particularly exciting because, not only are most of the actors playing real people, almost every performer is also playing more than one character. During these first rehearsals, not only are the actors starting to find their characters, we, as an ensemble, as a team, are beginning to find each other as a family. That experience is always exciting but particularly in a case like this, where the project is so personal, (it is based on the true-life experiences of Dana’s grandparents during World War 2) finding the group that will be your family for the next two months is a unique and wonderful experience.

Sadly, in the beginning of the week, we discovered that one of the actors would need to drop out of the production. We said goodbye to Doug and welcomed Dean Linnard as Man #2.

We had an exciting rehearsal on Tuesday (our first “on-our-feet” rehearsal) that was filled with physical improv. The cast danced, and laughed and cried (OK, maybe it was only me crying because of the poignant scene we were working on where Bella and Raymond tell Bella’s parents that they are leaving Gombin) and made delicious headway into our understanding not only of who these people were in real life, but who they are in our production.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday were three intense days of character-work as we delved into each character individually and made sure we were all on the same page before we start blocking the action of the play which we’ll jump in to on Wednesday night. While Molly and I were doing character-work with the actors, Dana was hard at work on dance rehearsals with the Movement Chorus. For both Dana and I rehearsals have been filled with new discoveries and a nearly constant appreciation of exciting insights that come about when performers enter the mix.

In addition to the actor and dancer work we did this past week, Dana and I also had individual design meetings. So far we’ve met with Scott (Costume),Sam (Lights) and Brian (Set) – (Projections and Sound are tomorrow) and we’ve started to zero in on our overriding design themes – neutral costumes, 4 light environments, movement within the set. Each meeting was enlightening and filled with those “ooh, ooh, ooh, what if we did this?!” moments that are the reason I do theater. And the discussions continue. To the right is the model that Dana and I were playing with at our set design meeting with Brian. I cannot fully explain the joy of having little (to scale) pieces to play around with and use to help clarify the picture I have in my head. I still remember last year at this time when Becky brought in my “Persuasion blocks” – little (to scale) cubes that represented the major set pieces for that show. It was after that meeting that I thought, “Oh, THAT’s what I’m doing with the set!” And I had a similar feeling after our set design meeting yesterday.

You know, any play has a lot of aspects that are balanced with each other and, kind of like a Jenga tower, you can’t just pull one out and deal with it – you need to look at the entire pile before making a move; but, particularly with a play like this – 9 actors, 5 dancers, music, sound, lights, projections, rolling set pieces – there are a LOT of moving parts and finding an anchor on which to secure your vision/design/ideas etc. is CRUCIAL. For me, that anchor started to form in the beginning of the week – hearing the actors say their lines, discussing the characters and what we want to do with them – and then it became clearer in the discussions about costume and lights as I began to really visualize what we’re going for here – but it crystallized in our set meeting.

As I begin to envision the set and what it will be able to do, I start to see how to move my playing pieces around the board. It is indescribably thrilling, and, in the end, it’s this feeling that I’m always chasing. It’s why I do this…And? I REALLY can not wait to see what this week brings…

Bella’s Dream opens June 18th for a two week run at The Flamboyan Theater at The Clemente Soto Velez Cultural and Educational Center. For tickets and further details go to our Shows and Events page above or just click here.

 

The Joys of Talented Friends…

So, I’ve spent the last couple of posts kinda complaining about things that are tough about this business so today I wanted to talk about one of the wonderful things – through chatting with, working with people, networking and the general “birds of a feather flock together”-ness of theater folks – it’s very easy in this business to make friends with and establish connections to an incredible network of talented, like-minded folks. One of those people (in my tribe) is Jake Lipman, Actress and Artistic Director/Producer of Tongue In Cheek Theater Productions. We met through a mutual acquaintance who thought, “huh, you both are women with theater companies who have similar views on the world and are, like 5′ tall, y’all should meet” and introduced us. I know what your thinking, you’re thinking, “well, I don’t know if that’s really enough similarities to base a lasting friendship on, there must be thousands of women with theater companies out there.” In response to you I say 1) frighteningly, there actually aren’t all that many women-run theater companies out there so we’ll flock together whenever we can AND, more importantly, 2) one of my mother’s best and longest friendships (we’re talking like 40 years here) came about because a mutual friend of theirs noticed they were both pregnant at the same time and so “would have a lot in common” and that acquaintance turned into a life-long friendship (see the 40 years thing). So clearly, if the universe wants you to be friends with someone, it will find a way to push y’all together, even if, at first glance, the similarities are only on the surface.

But, as usual, I digress… Tongue in Cheek is the same company that brought us last October’s terrific production of Our Town and, after that experience, you can imagine, how excited I was when Jake invited me to see Tongue In Cheek’s latest production, The Mistakes Madeline Made by Elizabeth Meriwether at The Bridge Theater at Shetler Studios. As I’m coming to expect from TIC Theater, this dark comedy was a great evening of theater, the only major drawback of which was the short run – only 7 performances. The play follows the story of recent grad Edna who takes a job assisting a wealthy family. She is visited by visions of her late brother Buddy and micromanaged by an insipid boss, Beth, compelling her to rebel with the help of quirky co-worker, Wilson. As she tries to find her way, throughout the play, Edna dates a series of pompous writers.

The play was filled with very funny/slightly surreal moments, which in and of itself was not much of a surprise considering the playwright would go on to create and produce the Fox television show New Girl, starring Zooey Deschanel. But what did surprise me was how moving the play managed to be in the midst of some “wackiness” and though I’m sure that was a factor of the writing, it was also due to the direction by Brock H. Hill and the work of the extraordinary cast.

Speaking of that cast – to be honest, the entire ensemble was wonderful. As Drake/Jake/Blake, Joe Mullen, with very little stage time, managed to create 3 entirely different characters while still portraying a clear archetype – “the pompous writer”. As Buddy, Jeremy Patrick Hamilton found the grounded reality of the “ghost” character, making him seem both a figure we completely know and a cipher we could never hope to know at the same time. Jake Lipman (and yes, I said she’s my friend so I’m a bit biased, but I’m also a director, I know real talent when I see it, and perhaps that is one of the reasons she IS my friend) Jake Lipman was hilarious as the insipid boss Beth, but she also played her in that way that only truly good comic actresses have of making sure that the character isn’t aware of the joke. Ms. Lipman’s Beth was so real that I actually broke out in a cold sweat at one point flashing back to conversations with those pointlessly irritating and particular bosses I’ve had in the past. Those bosses who’ve attended management seminars and read leadership self-help books and think, think, they are brilliant, people-managers. They think they’re the exact person who knows how to get the best out of talented people but instead are just completely clueless as to how to inspire committment, loyalty, and talent from their staff. And yet, in the midst of that very real portrait, Jake also gave us these little glimpses into the fact that as irritating and insipid as Beth is, she’s also a real person with feelings of her own-feelings that can easily be hurt. A.J. Heekin took a role that could have just been irritating or self-conciously quirky and turned Wilson into another real person, struggling with idiosyncracies and tics. Because of Mr. Heekin’s deft touch, very subtly and very quietly, Wilson moved from what seemed to be peripheral character to become the very heart of this little show. And Shelley Little – what to say about Ms. Little? I mentioned Shelley Little in my review of Our Town as I had been impressed with her work there but particularly in The Mistakes Madeline Made, I was blown away by her portrayal of Edna. We easily caught Edna’s wry humor and sarcastic shell holding everyone at arms length, but it was Shelley’s extremely moving portrayal of Edna’s inner weakness that, when exposed, became quietly devestating. By the end of the play, much to my surprise, I found myself reaching for tissue after tissue. (And, because it’s one of my pet peeves when an actress can’t do this, I want to specifically applaud Shelley Little for crying actual tears instead of just scrunching up her face and being “sad”. I’m a sympathetic crier from way back, so the actual tears were truly moving. )

As with Our Town, TIC once again was able to bring me humor interspersed with really moving, and emotionally effecting drama. Although The Mistakes Madeline Made has finished its run, I would like to HIGHLY recommend that you get yourself on their mailing list and be sure to catch whatever project they next have up their sleeves. You won’t be disappointed!

For more details on Tongue In Cheek Theater be sure to check their website here.

Perseverance (The Importance Of)

Disclaimer: I couldn’t come up with a good picture that really went along with this post. Sorry, just a whole lotta words and heads up, a couple of them are naughty…

Except for the occasional theater review, you may have noticed GTTP has been a little bit absent from the Blogosphere. (I’m sure you’ve all been breathlessly waiting for an explanation of where Jessica and GTTP has been). Well, lucky you, I feel like it is time to explain my absence. My other blog post today is all shiny happy with very exciting updates and, if you’d like to read that go ahead and skip this post entirely and see the shiny happy post here (ah the joys of simultaneous posting). But for those of you brave enough to embrace the darkness (heh. How ominous does that sound?), here’s the deal.

As you know from previous posting, last year was a bit of a crazy year (in a good way). GTTP (and in this instance the GTTP I’m referring to is yours truly) was up to its ears in productions. Starting with my directing gig at The Secret Theater, I went directly from directing The Day Job by Julia Blauvelt, into co-producing Cat Lady Without A Cat by Carrie Keskinen and then into directing and producing Jane Austen’s Persuasion by Laura Bultman, and right into directing and producing In The Ebb by Camilla Ammirati at the NY International Fringe Festival. Let me just say, that for as crazy as the schedule was, there is nothing quite as awesome as going from gig to gig to gig. It gives meaning to your life (or, in this case, my life) and it’s wonderful to know that you’re devoting all of your time and energy to the one thing that you know – completely know down in your boney bone bones – you were put on this earth to do. So that? Was awesome! …end of post.

Heh. Ok, not end of post. There was a downside. And here it is, gentle readers. Just because I know that I was put on this earth to direct (and produce) it doesn’t mean the universe recognizes it. And there was this tricky little thing with going from gig to gig to gig…and it’s that same tricky little thing that plagues all of us “starving” artists. That’s right, folks. Say it with me. Money. In that, there is none. No that’s not true. I have the most AMAZING supporters, which is to say all of you. I am WELL aware and INCREDIBLY appreciative of the way all of you have pitched in with money, time, encouragement and general support over the years. There’s nothing quite so wonderful as saying, “huh, how am I going to come up with x amount of money for this show?” and then checking Rockethub and seeing that x amount money has showed up from donors. It is a wonderful and amazing thing. But, unfortunately, for what I’m trying to do, it’s not enough. Don’t get me wrong, I know your hard earned cash is exactly that and you need to give what you’re comfortable giving and I’m not trying to imply that your generosity isn’t appreciated. No, on the contrary, it is EVERYTHING and it is a perfect launching off point. But, what I’ve been realizing, the longer I do this, is that we need more and we need bigger. Money and audiences, that is. In order to get to the place that I might one day make a living at this, we need to make that jump from small company surviving on individual donations into a company that makes its money through grants, or corporate sponsorship, or investors or all of the above…we need to jump.

This need was particularly noticeable last fall when I was hoping we were making that jump. I finished The Fringe Festival, completely ready for one of two things to happen, either – some variation of the pipe dream – someone of influence, someone with money, would have seen In the Ebb and decided he or she wanted to be GTTP’s patron or I’d get a directing agent who would launch me into a world of gigs for which I would get recognition and get paid a real salary and that salary would, in turn, enable me to subsidize my GTTP work or we’d get so noticed and so well reviewed that we would be instantly skyrocketed to fame and success (or at least to a budget level that would allow for a decent salary for all involved) and I’d get help in making GTTP really happen – OR – (more likely) I would go back to my 4 day jobs for 4 months, make some money, expand the ensemble, and come back in the spring for our next show, which would be a contributing factor to that jump happening, like now.

But here’s what happened…nada. No, that’s not exactly true, I did expand the company and we are now an ensemble of 28 artists and technicians and you can read about that in the other blog post (you know, the shiny happy one). But, except for that, nothing happened. No pipe dream, and no day job (there just wasn’t much work for me last fall). So I spent a few months trying to figure out what I should have done differently and what I could do differently in the future to make sure that that jump I was talking about earlier, would — no, will — happen.

Because, here’s the thing, I’m tired. I mean it. It’s exhausting to keep pushing, to keep going. It’s tiring to keep telling yourself, “no no, it WILL happen.” Leading up to Fringe, (as I have with every single production) I REALLY tried not to get my hopes up. I really tried not to let myself even imagine the pipe dream stuff. I REALLY REALLY did (and in my family when you say “really really” you can not lie). I kept telling myself, “Jessica, pipe dreams don’t happen in real life. This ain’t an episode of Smash. If you want something to happen you need to put in the work. You need to keep pushing. You need to persevere and, in the end you need to MAKE it happen. Because no one is going to give it to you. No one is going to do it for you.” I can’t tell you how many times over the past five years I’ve told myself some variation of exactly that. Seriously, it’s like a daily affirmation. Because you need to keep that pipe dream shit in check. So I stomped down on any of the, “but maybe what will happen is Steven Spielberg will be in NY and decide he wants to take in a Fringe show and he’ll see In the Ebb, and he’ll think, “wow, this show is something! This director is SOMETHING! Let me see what else she’s got!”" I stomped down HARD. At least I thought I did.

What actually happened though – Deep down, way way down deep, there was this Little Dreamer who just kept holding on to that pipe dream. Eyes screwed shut, shaking her head, knuckles white with holding on so hard, she just kept whispering, “I know all of that stuff Ms. Strong Realistic Conscious Mind. But you’re wrong, because I’ve been doing this for awhile and sooner or later, pipe dream has to happen. Sooner or later something’s going to give and the end result will be pipe dream. I know it.” It turns out that Little Dreamer is kind of an asshole, because what happened in September, and then October, and then November, when I realized that no manifestation of pipe dream was actually going to happen, I shut down and crawled into a state of hibernation. I didn’t realize it at the time, when I kept telling my friends and family, “yeah, I’m a little bit blue, but really I’m fine” that I was lying. It turns out that I wasn’t just a little bit blue, I was a little bit broken.

And it turns out I needed the last five months (WOW, I can not beLIEVE I wasted five whole months) to let that stuff work itself out. So that’s where I’ve been…that’s where GTTP has been…working stuff out. Sometimes, working stuff out looked like watching crap TV shows on my computer while playing video games on the TV. And sometimes working stuff out looked like playing on Facebook. And sometimes working stuff out looked like reading the final book of a fantasy series 20 years in the making, but whatever form of escape it looked like, it really really was working stuff out, because just within the last few weeks? I feel better. I feel eager. I feel recharged. I have to do lists and tasks and half started projects (which I rotate through daily) all over my desktop. I’m not really sure what I did to fix it, or heal or whatever, but the one thing I did do, as I sat there thinking, “Geez, Jess, you have GOT to get working again. You have to update your blog. or Work on your next project. or Get a new fundraising drive going. or SOMETHING!” The one thing I did do was listen once again to that Little Dreamer who said, “wait. Not yet. Lick your wounds. Heal. Listen to the dream again. Find the strength to keep going.” Because, she may be an asshole, and she may be melodramatic, but also? She knows of what she speaks.

Keep going on this journey. It will be worth it. Keep going on this path. There are rewards to come. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. So I will. You wanna come too?

 

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.