The CoLab Theatre

Children's Theatre, Now For Adults!

2012-01-26T17:28:00.001-05:00

[Alternative title to this blog: Erika Dabbles in Dramaturgy.]

I wrote the first draft of Don't Eat The Apples while I was working at summer camp in 2007. The camp was very much in the red and instead of spending money on the scripts that I would ask for, the camp director would print me out copies of "Junior" versions of plays for my campers. Say what you will about kids, but they know the difference between high quality and crap. (It's this writer's opinion that parents DON'T take kids to the theatre because they don't want to be bored - or to bore their kids. Like anything else, there's a lot of crap out there.) While reading through the script for Peter Pan Junior, each child expressed their disgust at this watered down version of the story. So we added back in, as one child put it, "the good parts," taking the liberty to edit where we saw fit (since someone had taken the liberty to edit J.M. Barrie already), and turned it into a show that the kids could be proud of.

Somewhere during the process I uttered the fatal statement, "We could write something better than this." And there it was - we were writing a play.

The first draft was written in 72 hours, and many of the roles were written for the children at the camp at the time. In a turn of events that threw me for a loop, it was successful. The kids in the audience laughed. The adults in the audience laughed. The counselor that couldn't understand why a kid would sign up for a theatre class over his soccer game actually complemented us afterwards. He was in disbelief that he enjoyed himself. And I was in disbelief that I had accomplished a goal - I reached two audiences with one play - who knew? I was pleased. And so, DETA made its way into a folder on my desktop, presumably never to be seen again.

You know... until I opened my big mouth once more.

The CoLab had been searching for a play to put up that would involve more of the community. After the success of Dearly Beloved, we were committed to putting up a second show that met our usual criteria - fun, fun, learning curve, are we really using this work lights again, fun. This time we all wanted to act (a crazy notion) and we wanted to involve kids. "I've got this play that I wrote in college," I started... So we decided to mount the show - I made some edits, we hired a director, gathered the perfect storm of actors, and cast ourselves. (Nepotism is a thing, dudes.) And we began the rehearsal process.

Due to the way this play was written, I felt a weird lack of ownership over the words. First off, I wrote them in collaboration with two of my co-counselors. Secondly, we had written the original version in such a short amount of time, that I didn't always recall why I had worded something one way or why a particular action appeared in the script. This made it easy to allow changes when they were asked for, but it also put me in an uncomfortable place opposite the text. I knew I was hearing my words out loud, but they sounded foreign to me. Sometimes I was proud of them, and sometimes I cringed. The more I listened to this play, the more I wished it had gone through a formal editing process. The more I memorized my lines, the more I wished I had expanded certain thoughts and plot lines. The more I thought about HOW MANY PEOPLE were involved in producing something I had casually written, the more nervous I got about actually putting up this show. The actors were doing a great job, but I felt that there was something wrong with the words. And that wasn't a happy feeling (or one that I've shared before this blog post).

And then last night happened... and I realized something. This sure ain't Shakespeare. But that's not what our audience is looking for. I've been preaching about how much I love working with and acting for children because of their honest, visceral reactions to the theatre. You say to them, "This room is filled with jelly." And suddenly, there it is, the room is filled with jelly. And THAT'S the quality about this show that made me suggest it in the first place. The story is silly. The writing is simple. The editing is less than perfect. But the framework for imagination is in every word, every breath, every character. It is, exactly what I set out to write. Fun for the actors - there are no limits to what you can bring to these characters physically or vocally. Fun for the adults - there's some jokes in there especially for you. And a blast for the kids - who doesn't want to see a hero named Archie and (a very revamped) Red Riding Hood take on a sorcerer, a witch, a troll, a wolf, AND a magic spell and still be home in time for dinner? (Admit it, you want to see what this all about now, don't you?)

So what's my happily ever after? I'm proud of this show I've written. I'm proud of the work the cast and crew has put in so far. And I'll be even prouder come Saturday when I've shared this with the next generation of theatre-goers. And for those of you out there thinking... hey, you spent this whole post talking about how this is a show for kids, why should I come see this show on Saturday morning? This isn't Peter Pan Junior. This is a play written to be accepted and interpreted on two levels - those under 3 feet tall, and those over.
Still scoffing at me? Then ask yourself, why would twelve well-respected members of the Boston Theatre Community have happily and willingly signed on to do this show?

Come see the Boston Premiere of Don't Eat The Apples this Saturday, January 28 at 11 a.m. at Unity Somerville. Can't make it? You have two more chances - Saturday, February 11 at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. Tickets available here. (And they're cheap, kids. And grown ups.) See what the fuss is about.

xoxo.

Children’s Theatre: The Scariest Place on Earth

2012-01-24T16:24:00.003-05:00

Well folks, it's that time again. SHOW TIME. Take a look at this blog from CoLab veteran, Alyce Householter as she tackles her first children's show. See her play The Wicked Witch with finesse and ease as we open Don't Eat The Apples THIS SATURDAY, January 28 at Unity Somerville! Click for tickets. And enjoy the read.

I walked into my first rehearsal wearing a long pink skirt, a black leotard, an off the shoulder t-shirt, and my hair pulled up. I was a ballerina. I was confident, secure, and ready for almost anything. But I wasn’t taking a ballet class, rehearsing Swan Lake, or even replicating a Flash Dance montage. I was preparing to play the Wicked Witch in Don’t Eat the Apples. To better understand the reasoning for my fierce ensemble, let me start from the beginning…

Kids hate me. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true, and I don’t blame them. My experience with children under the age of 10 is virtually nonexistent. My few interactions with kids have been saying hi to my boss’s children and performing in musicals for kids when I was in high school. So why the hell am I acting in a children’s show? Well….when I was asked to be part of the cast, I thought “Why not!” I hadn’t worked on a show in longer than I would like to admit, I knew I would love working with the CoLab Theatre Company again, and I would love playing the Wicked Witch!

Most of the plays I have worked on in my career have been dramatic, dark, and usually had a “Mature Audience Only” warning attached. It would be nice to play a role where I wasn’t contemplating, “What vocal sounds best accompany a rape?” or “How do I make dying in a chair for 12 minutes interesting?” Don’t Eat the Apples sounded like the perfect opportunity to just have fun, meet some new people, and get a little crazy on stage.

Best of all, I would be able to do something I love without the stress of “What critiques am I going to get from the audience after the show?” I know, as actors, we are not supposed to care about reviews and such; just focus on telling the story. But come on actors, we all care about what the audience is going to say at some point. Of course, we want them to love the show and get feedback from our peers and people whose opinions we trust. But then there is that whole other range of people. You know, the ones who see you after the show and say “You were amazing!” then turn around and tell their friend “God, that girl sucked”. Or when people you don’t even know come up to you and say, “The show was terrible, but you were good.” This really doesn’t help us people! (You know who you are.) So when I said “yes” to Don’t Eat the Apples, I thought, “My audience is kids. This is going to be easy.”

A few weeks later, at our first read-through for DETA, we were all asked to talk about our experience with children’s theatre. Someone began talking about how they liked it because of the audience’s instantaneous and honest reaction. Kids know what they like and aren’t afraid to ask for it. An actor knows immediately if their performance is good by simple immediate reaction. If you are a “good” character and they cheer for you, they love you. If you are an “evil” character and they hiss or boo you, they hate you; which in turn, secretly means, they love/hate you. That’s how you know you are successful, told the story, and you’ve done your job. That’s it!! There is no critiquing of the show. There is no kid out there thinking, “I don’t really believe that girl delved into her characters past” or “His stakes weren’t high enough”. Kids either care about you or they don’t.

I didn’t realize how much this idea actually scared me. The night before our first blocking rehearsal, I realized that I had barely looked over my script. After being so excited to accept being a part of this show, why had I not engulfed myself in it by now? I knew, secretly, I had been avoiding it. But why? Then it hit me. I…was….SCARED. I can’t believe it! Kids scare the crap out of me. They don’t like me, and they aren’t exactly #1 on my list either. I don’t know how to talk to them. WE DON’T KNOW HOW TO COMMUNICATE. What was I going to do!? So I spent that night racking my brain. How am I going to deal with this fear? How am I going to learn, in a couple weeks, how to make these kids like me? What is my first step? I began thinking about how I dealt with fear when I was a kid. I remember dressing up A LOT. Playing dress up with my sister and putting on unique outfits for the first day of school. Even when I had to wear a uniform to school, any time I had tests or class presentations, I would still find a way to put something crazy in my hair or wear really fun socks. I did it because that’s how I coped with fear as a kid. Something about dressing up and making myself unique was empowering, and I always seemed to be able face my fear.

So I knew exactly what I needed to do to face my DETA rehearsal: Dress Up Time (hence, my “ballerina inspired couture” in the introduction.) I doubt that any of the other actors even noticed my ensemble choice, but it wasn’t about that. It was about me and facing my fear. Walking into rehearsal, I felt confident; ready to have fun as the Wicked Witch, and knowing I could respond to the kids. I could communicate with them, because I knew what it was like to cheer for “good” and boo at “evil”. I was a kid at once, and there is a part inside me that will always be a kid. It was wonderful to know that me and Kid-Alyce are still in touch. I’m not saying that children and I are going to start kickin' it on the weekends. And I’m certainly not going to be a nanny or pop out a baby of my own anytime soon. But there is definitely something to be said for the honesty of children and our inner child, and if you aren’t ready to face that, then you may not be ready to face the truth.

Hope everyone enjoys the show!

Alyce

Calling All Playwrights!

2012-01-11T16:47:00.002-05:00

CoLab Theatre supporter, friend, and mentor Michael Carnow brought this project to my attention yesterday. He's a great dude, you have my word. Do it. The CoLab dares you.

Here's the call. We triple dog dare you -- I mean... hope you'll submit! (But seriously, you can't back down from a triple dog dare.)

Echoes Theater Project (Chicago, IL) seeks un-produced full-length scripts for its new play reading series. Plays in the series will be considered for future production. Please send scripts to echoestheater@gmail.com

Echoes Theater Company is a non-profit theater company that uses performance to increase compassion, empathy and the human connection. We endeavor to create art that reverberates and affects a change within our audience.

The Best Friend Bias

2011-12-10T15:43:00.003-05:00

Hey All. By now you're probably used to the fact that I expound upon my made up philosophies a lot on this blog. First, there was "The Tinkerbell Effect." Next came the Erika-cized term, "Audi-drenaline." I now present to you, dear readers, "The Best Friend Bias."

Last weekend I was fortunate enough to see my bestie, roomie, and all-around fabulous gal pal(ie), perform in show produced by The OnStage Dance Company. I'm going to admit that I was not expecting much when I arrived at the venue. I expected R to be great, for sure, but after years of attending college dance shows I was nervous for the caliber and duration of the evening as a whole. As I munched on my latest chocolate acquisition from Trader Joe's as the lights went down and the music started, I was met with a performance better than the one I had anticipated but still not one that blew me away. As the group danced to Peggy Lee's Fever, they were decent but not totally in sync with each other which was a bit frustrating to watch. However, they weren't bad by any means, they held our interest and we looked forward to the next act. (Side note, if you're still thinking about treats... it was a Dark Chocolate bar with Caramel and Sea Salt - do it. You won't be sorry.) Anyways, as the first act progressed, we were impressed by how quickly everything seemed to be moving, the variations between the acts, and the clean scene transitions.

It wasn't until R's group took the stage though that I was truly vested and interested in what I was watching. First off, they were IN SYNC with each other. Not only was each girl on beat, but they each possessed a sort of attitude that the music, the costume, the choreography suggested. They were *gasp* acting. I don't pretend be an authority on dance, but I know passionate acting when I see it - and this dance fell under that category. As intermission arrived, my friend L and I could not get over how much we enjoyed R's dance. We just kept saying to each other, "That was the best dance we saw in the last hour." And it got me thinking, was it truly the best dance in the act or were we biased based on the presence of a mutual close friend? I like to think that I see enough theatre and general performance events that I have an eye, ear, general understanding of what makes a performance worth seeing, but I know that my personal emotions about the parties involved definitely can help to enhance or reduce my enjoyment. So what was I experiencing? My true feelings as an audience member or The Best Friend Bias?

As we headed into the second act, I was absolutely blown away by the first piece. This company was started by several girls that I went to college with - girls who were phenomenal dancers in school. (What is it with these Brandeis kids and their companies?) I'm not sure why I doubted their ability to put together a great show, but here was proof that talent definitely improves with age. The piece was mesmerizing. But again, they were acting. There was a story. There was passion. And I came to a decision, while I was definitely effected by The BFB, I wasn't so blinded to think that I couldn't enjoy or laud a piece that did not include my best friend. I saw a range of things happening on stage - fabulous choreographers where the dancers emoted nothing, nervous girls who wouldn't remember the steps, and girls with more energy than the steps allowed. At the end of the night, the outcome was simple - when I was watching a spark on stage, there was a spark inside me. Sounds elementary, right? I suppose, but it's still nice to be able to know why you're complimenting someone at the end of the performance.

Things learned last weekend? 1. R is a fantastic performer. (Okay, I didn't newly learn that - but I was reminded.) 2. The show was worth the $10 ticket - I'd definitely check out their spring show. 3. The Best Friend Bias is a thing - we all experience it (how do you think our parents sat through all of those ballet recitals?!) but nothing can match true passion and skill. :)

Happy Weekend.

- E

No Small Roles

2011-11-16T15:30:00.005-05:00

Hey all, you haven't met me before, but I've been working as the administrative intern for CoLab for about a year now. So far I've really enjoyed my experiences and I'm so excited to finally be able to start blogging!

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of joining Erika at an event called "Something Rotten - Hamlet Re-Mixed" hosted by Whistler in the Dark and Imaginary Beasts as part of their repertory event that included Tom Stoppard's Dogg's Hamlet, Cahoot's Macbeth and Ionesco's Macbett.

Mary-Liz was involved a piece directed by Meron Langsner that was an interpretation of Act V of Hamlet. It involved swords and in the words of the director "Rampant Badassery" of varying kinds. What it did NOT include was Fortinbras. I was waiting for all 10 minutes of the piece just anticipating his arrival. Not only did he not appear in Act V...but he wasn't mentioned in any of the other four acts as well. You would think that somewhere throughout the collective process to bring an interprative version of Hamlet together that SOMEONE would have thought to include the true foil to Hamlet himself.This massive oversight reminded me of the old addage "there are no small parts, only small actors". In attempting to recreate the classic (albeit in a condensed version) the creators of each small piece took very broad strokes.

For such a project as "Something Rotten" it is understandable to me that certain nuances and details get cut to the wayside, but it is interesting that a personality that pervades the play in so many ways can so easily be disposed of.

It has come to my attention that the newest full production, being produced by Psych Drama Company (opening tomorrow 11/30/11) also cuts out Fortinbras. There are other liberties being taken with the script, and cuts and changes have become common place in Shakespeare productions. But what do you cut when you cut a character like Norway? What do you lose in the meaning and understanding of the story, the text, and the playwright's intention? What would happen if you cut Mitch from A Streetcar Named Desire ?

Fortinbras is a device in the play that serves as an antithesis for Hamlet. And for all of our Shakespeare scholars/enthusiasts/actors out there, you know that you can never undervalue antithesis. It is what colors the play, the characters, the text.

His presence in the play prior to act V (through other characters' text) as well as his final speech (see below) also create a context for the action of the play that is undervalued by most producers/directors of the play. Fortinbras provides the reality check that no matter how hard you try or what decisions you make, the final outcome of your life actually has very little to do with you. It puts Hamlet's struggle into stark perspective. Fortinbras, with his threats of invasion and ultimate take-over of Denmark, is a reminder of that. If Hamlet had lived and made different choices, who's to say Fortinbras still wouldn't have won in the end? The presence of this larger force, embodied by this tiny character, has the ability to change the tenor of the play in a major way. Why sacrifice layers of what is considered by some, the best play in the canon, to cut 9 lines of text and one actor from production? Whether or not the young Dane had avenged his father sooner, or with more vigor; whether or not he was mad; if he had chosen love and Ophelia rather than hatred and vengefulness do not change the fact that there are outside forces, larger than yourself, that determine much of how your life turns out. And to highlight that struggle is to highlight the true and universal questions that Hamlet offers to himself and the audience. Without Fortinbras those questions are lost in the senseless deaths of the young men of this play.

So really, just don't cut Fortinbras.

Fortinbras:

Let four captains
Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,
The soldiers' music and the rites of war
Speak loudly for him.
Take up the bodies: such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

Looking forward to the next one:

Gary

** Gary Howard is a junior at University of Chicago studying Geopolitics and Theatre

Filmed in Front of a LIVE STUDIO AUDIENCE!!!

2011-11-11T13:00:00.000-05:00

Hello BlogLand!

For those of you who are looking for a great sitcom to watch endlessly on DVD as the weather turns cold (sort of), I highly recommend CBS's The Big Bang Theory. And it's not just because one of the lead characters is a Cheesecake Factory working actress with a bunch of humorous and adorkable friends. There's something about the way the characters are so well thought out and executed that draws me in. The show definitely builds on itself (You must watch it from the beginning - it's like Arrested Development or HIMYM) - once you start to understand the recurring jokes, the funnier the show becomes. But what's most enticing about this sitcom, is the sense of ensemble you feel while watching the show. I love thinking about ensembles at work. When I watch reruns of Friends, I often think to myself, those are six lucky people. They get to work day in and day out with a group of people they understand, trust, and excel at their craft with. What could be better?

And that's what I see when I watch Big Bang. This group of friends who goes to work every day to have some fun and make some entertainment. Sometimes when I consider what it's like to work in a medium other than live theatre, I wonder how the actors do it without the audience. I was recently having a debate with someone about whether or not acting for film or acting for theatre are one skill set or two. I am (was?) of the camp that they're two different skill sets (much in the same way that auditioning and acting are two different skill sets). But, Best Friend, I'm beginning to think that I stand corrected. A quiet house is an obstacle for even the most experience actors (and sometimes fatal for those who are just starting out) but it never occurred to me that one could have that same experience on a sitcom where, let's face it, the point is to make us regular folk forget about our humdrum lives, financial issues, and broken hearts and lift our spirits for 30 minutes at a time.

My favorite character is quickly becoming Mayim Bialik's, Amy Farrah-Fowler. (Gee, that name's familiar you say? Well for TGIF fans out there, she was TV's Blossom as a teenager.) Like the members of The CoLab, Mayim (I feel like we're on a first name basis since her status updates appear in my FB news feed), blogs on a regular basis about a number of things, including her stint on Big Bang. And interestingly enough, tv actors HAVE NOT forgotten about the importance of laughter when it comes to camera work, and even more importantly, they haven't forgotten about the importance of trust and ensemble. As she puts it,

"Working alongside two-time Emmy winner Jim Parsons is unlike working with anyone I have shared a stage with. He and I go about our work very similarly, from how we view our characters’ idiosyncrasies, to how we execute them. Jim and I also seem to agree–all of this is unspoken–that no amount of preparation all week can brace you for the lovable beast that is a live studio audience. You can’t really know how to play a scene until you can hear the audience gasping, giggling, laughing, and hesitating; breathing with you as you breathe and feel the nuances of your character. The way the failed seduction/cuddle scene shook down on your TV screens was, for me, different by eons from how it played all week in rehearsal."

And this has definitely got me thinking (once again), that the reason I'm uncomfortable doing film is because I don't understand it. I don't nearly have enough on camera experience to form a judgement about what it's like to act either way. I know that I'm a stage-lover, but if you really have the right scene partner... okay. I'm not sold on it yet. I'm not sure that ANYTHING will replace my love for the instant gratification of audience laughter, pain, confusion but this week I'm considering Mayim's thoughts regarding on screen acting.

If you're interested in reading more I highly recommend the rest of the article which can be found here. And if all you want to do is see that ensemble-audience dynamic first hand, there's plenty of live theatre happening in Boston this weekend. Go enjoy it!

Happy Watching... I mean Weekend, Folks!

XOXO,
E

Malaise

2011-11-07T22:11:00.004-05:00

I had a brief stroll around East Cambridge yesterday, around sunset. For the first time in a long time, I found myself taking the the long way home, taking my time and just enjoying the scenery. I wish I could say it was relaxing, though on the plus side it was necessary.

I'm coming to grips with a strange realization. From graduation in spring of 2008 until the fall of 2010, I was living the rough and tumble, young artist life. I found myself underemployed and living on two friends' couch, working the occasional odd job and industrial to barely break even. The entire time, I was also on the search for better employment working to get CoLab off the ground. I partied a little too hard, but I also kept busy and constantly working towards something better.

Over the past year, I started making some more money and CoLab starting taking off. It's been rewarding and exciting and I'm very thankful for those two things.

And yet, I came to the realization yesterday that this has also been one of the most sincerely depressing periods of my life. If you haven't seen me posting blogs as often (and you haven't) and wonder why I'm not taking to the streets with my opinions on Herman Cain and Boston Theatre Economics like I usually do...

To paraphrase Fight Club, you're reading me in a very strange time in my life.

As I walked through the empty, dim glow of the Genzyme and MIT labs I realized that no matter how much better things get, they will also be difficult and it will be very easy to give up. CoLab makes me happy. My job makes me happy. My apartment makes me happy. So why aren't I happy?

It's worth noting, that this current slump really starting about two weeks after Dearly Beloved wrapped up. It's also worth noting that I've had slumps all my life, and I'm aware that life fluctuates and in a few weeks I'll probably feel the spark of life come back. But for the time being, I have to cope with the fact that even though life always gets better, it also always gets worse.

I have a long overdue "Man-date" this week with one of my many hetero life mates. (If confused, please consult feature film "I Love You, Man".) We have been talking about similar themes in our lives. We both experienced a severing of bonds in the past year and we both have a sense of anxious malaise, so I know what I'm experiencing is in large part a symptom of my 20's. So I figured this is something worth sharing with ya'll. I'm not sure how other people cope, but I guess I'm figuring it out for myself now.

The quarter-life crisis. It's a thing.

And I'm okay with that.

A Haiku For My Droid

2011-11-01T14:41:00.000-04:00

i love my android
otherwise life is chaos
google calendar

A year ago I didn't see why the heck I would ever need a smart phone. Let's review the facts:

Occupation: Actress/waitress. No immediate need to return work emails. And plus, I didn't really want them "following me around."
Marital Status: Single. No schedules to match up. No bank accounts to sync. No soccer practice to get to.
Schedule: Perfectly accessible on my wall calendar in my bedroom. Places I needed to be: work, rehearsal, the occasional CoLab meeting.
Other devices: I own a computer and an ipod. I can check my email, go on Facebook, listen to music - all on regular basis! Why would I need a smart phone?

Check, check, check. Everything was taken care of. Why would I need a fancy phone? Six months ago, things started to change. As a company, we started to schedule weekly meetings. (Add one thing to the Google calendar.) I began working a second job. (Read: THANK YOU GOOGLE CALENDAR) And we started pre-production on NOT ONE but TWO shows. (Seriously, Google calendar OVERLOAD.) And I started to miss emails. If I was on a double, I'd head to work around 11 a.m. and sometimes not get home until after midnight. After a twelve hour day, the last thing I wanted to do was make decisions and write out opinions. And so emails weren't responded to in a timely manner. And the company wasn't running at the rate or in the manner we wanted it to.

So in April, I bought a Droid. And it literally changed the way we operated as a small business. Our entire organization runs off of GoogleDocs and Aps. I could access both my personal email and my CoLab email from my phone. Both my calendar and the company Google calendars synced to my phone. I could access all of our Docs. Which meant I could read and edit agendas, drafts of scripts, resumes, etc. I could respond to auditionees for play. and edit details for Dearly Beloved production. And suddenly, there was no question about it. I needed my Droid to run my small business. play. Discovery and Dearly Beloved really would not have gone up without it. The world moves faster every day and today, I think Ferris might say, "If you're not connected you might miss it." I'm not saying I want to be married to my phone. I love it and some days really all I want to do is beat that one pesky level of Angry Birds that I can't get through. And some days I turn off the sound because I really don't need my email following me around for the day. But there are days and times when having a Droid makes my existence as an actress, a producer, a director, and a small business owner possible. And for that, I'm glad I own it. So, thank you, Droid. Thanks for allowing me to leave my computer at home when I travel. Thanks for letting me check the weather when I want to. And thanks for letting me improve CoLab productivity. And now if you'll excuse me, those stupid pigs don't know whats coming.

Hocus Pocus

2011-10-25T12:08:00.004-04:00

Ok, I'm going to share a secret with all of you: I am terrible at Halloween.

I know, I know, it seems like a natural fit for an actor with a costume background to just go nuts about the dress-up holiday but for some reason deciding on a costume and getting into the Halloween spirit always puts my teeth on edge. Something about the pressure for finding some funny, non-obvious, socially relevant, pithy costume and all the scary-spooky stuff happening is just too much. I'm not a horror fan and social humor in costumes is usually beyond me. I mean I love seeing trick-or-treaters come to the door and I always had fun as a kid, but somwhere along the way, Halloween lost its luster.

I have managed (just today) to throw together some plans and a costume idea for the weekend. And I'll be making little candy baggies later this week to give out on Monday night. And thankfully there's some theater out there with a vibe more than appropriate for the festivities and good to get anyone in the All-Hallows mood.

Go see:

Slasher

By: Allison Moore

Apollinaire Theatre Company

Now through November 5

Tix: $25 in Advance, $30 at the door, $15 student rush ID requires

Neighborhood 3: Requisition of Doom

By: Jennifer Haley

Happy Medium Theatre
Now through October 29

Tix: $5.00 - $17.00

The Phantom Tollbooth

By: Norton Juster and Sheldon Harnick

Wheelock Family Theatre

Tix: $20.00 - $30.00

* Mary-Liz

Breaking Up With Julius, Morrie, and June Or, The Epilogue

2011-10-23T15:14:00.009-04:00

Closing a play is like a congenial break up. It's time for things to end but suddenly you have way too much free time on your hands and a little hole in your heart. Closing Dearly Beloved left me with a bizarre feeling in my stomach. When I woke up on Sunday, September 18, I took a breath and was thankful I was done. We spent a year and nine months from start to finish on the show and while the final two months were worth it, they were exhausting. I slept until noon for about a week straight (thank goodness for evening shifts...) and didn't feel guilty about it at all. That is, until I started to think about "what comes next."

And I'll be honest with you, I don't know what comes next. I've been wanting to write this post-show post for a long time but I haven't been able to truly organize my thoughts on the whole thing. Dearly Beloved was more successful than Kenny, Mary-Liz, and I imagined it would be and for a few brief weeks, all I could feel was the thrill of putting on a successful show. But as I return to waiting on tables, coming to terms with some major life changes, and the constant struggle for ANYONE out there to return our emails regarding performance and rehearsal space, I'm starting to realize that what I'm feeling is the lack of closure. And I'm not sure how to obtain closure from 81 pages of text and three characters that don't actually live and breathe outside of the 90 minutes run time the show allows. I think part of my problem is simply, I am so proud of this show that I want my next great exploration to just land in my lap tomorrow (or preferably yesterday, but who's counting) and that's just not going to happen. Everything in this business is about making something happen for yourself.

And we're planning - we're planning for the next piece of The CoLab adventure but the fact that I know I won't be in rehearsals again for at least another two months is still killing me. Someone recently suggested that this quiet period is me stuck in a rut as an actress and a performer. But I'd prefer to think of this time as the post-relationship mourning period. I'm rebounding from a rehearsal schedule with sleeping in and endless episodes of The Big Bang Theory, but it won't always be like that. I'll pull myself up off the mat soon enough and I'll be off again. Because, while Dearly Beloved and I may have found our resting place, my love affair with the theatre is still burning bright. And I'm not ready to move on from that just yet.

So what I'll leave you with today is some words I wrote in 2009 when I was contemplating this crazy career decision. This excerpt is from a play entitled Splatter Paint. It really is amazing how you learn new things from every relationship, every play, and still how you always feel the same. Anyways, this is how I feel today. Enjoy. And Happy Sunday.

- E

Splatter Paint, Scene Three: The Office

ELLE and BOBBI are seated at high stools around their worktable. ELLE holds a bowl of popcorn. BOBBI has a stack of photos in front of her; she holds them up one by one for ELLE.

ELLE: Crap. (Throws a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth.)

BOBBI: Okay. How about this?

ELLE: Not quite as crap as the last one.

BOBBI: This?

ELLE: Shittiest of them all.

BOBBI: Do you ever like anything you shoot?

ELLE: No. (Tosses a handful of popcorn at BOBBI.) If I was a happy artist I’m not sure I could call myself an artist.

BOBBI: You gotta choose one.

ELLE: They’re all shit.

BOBBI: Even this one?

ELLE: Oh God, put that away.

BOBBI: We have to choose one. Maybe if we go back through –

ELLE: Nooooo. Let’s take a break, okay?

BOBBI: Okay. (Pause. Stares at ELLE. ELLE throws more popcorn at her.)

ELLE: You going to keep staring at me or are you gonna ask?

BOBBI: Ask what?

ELLE: Ask me.

BOBBI: I don’t –

ELLE: Ask me about what you saw yesterday.

BOBBI: Elle, I… I didn’t…

ELLE: I know. But you saw, so ask. Seriously – I don’t mind.

BOBBI: I’d rather not.

ELLE stares at her, obnoxiously chomping on her popcorn. BOBBI gets more and more nervous as her stare bores into her. She tries to busy herself going through the photographs on the table but ELLE never drops her gaze.

BOBBI: It looked very private.

ELLE: It was private. That’s why the door was shut.

BOBBI: (Pause.) I’ve never seen you like that before.

ELLE: Well, that’s because I don’t paint topless in the center of the break room.

BOBBI: That’s not what I meant. That… possessed. No not, possessed – obsessed. No, I… I’ve never seen you look that happy.

ELLE: I wasn’t aware that I look happy when I’m embarrassed.

BOBBI: Before you realized –

ELLE: Yeah.

BOBBI: You aren’t that absorbed when you work.

ELLE: I photograph Lotus Blossoms and Sun Salutations all day. After awhile, I can only get so excited about it. (BOBBI stares at her. ELLE breaks into fake smile.) I love my job.

BOBBI: And everyone knows it. Why don’t you quit?

ELLE: I can’t quit.

BOBBI: Why? Go take pictures of children in the park, or real lotus blossoms in India, or Orville Redenbacher… something you like.

ELLE: How old are you, Bobbi?

BOBBI: Why not?

ELLE: Tell me how old you are and I’ll tell you.

BOBBI: I’ll tell you how old I am when – you know what? No. This is ridiculous. You hate your life – fix it. Don’t you listen to what they tell you at the end of each class?

ELLE: It’s kind of hard to focus when everyone’s sprinting out the door to avoid the rush.

BOBBI: Take time for yourself – renew, refresh, all that crap? They say it for a reason.

ELLE: Seriously, how old are you? Twenty?

BOBBI: Twenty-one.

ELLE: Come back to me in five years and tell me how easy it is to change up your life and do something you love. I gave up on that a long time ago. I have bills to pay, a husband, we support each other – I can’t just pick up and leave this job because I’m bored. I think we all have a grace period where we get to figure it out… I didn’t figure it out soon enough. And here I am.

BOBBI: I know that this is impolite, you being wiser and older than me, but I think that’s pathetic.

ELLE: Excuse me?

BOBBI: Pathetic. You looked happy yesterday, Eleanor. Genuinely happy –

ELLE: I’m happy with lots of things.

BOBBI: You spend forty plus hours a week doing something that you hate. That’s so… senseless! So you what, paint on the side to make yourself happier?

ELLE: What’s wrong with that? You think all of the computer analysts and accountants out there do nothing to complement their work lives?

BOBBI: I think that if you have a marketable talent – you shouldn’t use it to do something you loathe.

ELLE: I don’t loathe working here.

BOBBI: Then why do all your photos suck?

ELLE: Excuse me?

BOBBI: If you loved taking these it would show. Those photos suck because you hate taking them – and you know what the sad thing is? If you were any other person, I’d say, “hey that photo isn’t so bad.” But for someone with as much potential as you, these photos are awful. I’ve seen your shows, Elle.

ELLE: I haven’t done a show in years.

BOBBI: I looked you up.

ELLE: (More flattered and shocked than angry.) You looked me up? Where?

BOBBI: The Eveson Gallery has a file on you. I saw your stuff… and it’s really good. And I think you’re wasting, well, pretty much everything by working here.

ELLE: Which collection did you see?

BOBBI: Generational Gaps.

ELLE: (Laughs.) Oh god.

BOBBI: If you even say its crap –

ELLE: No. (Pause.) I know. If possible I try to think about that show least.

BOBBI: It’s your best one.

ELLE: Compared to what?

BOBBI: I looked through all of your stuff – it was the best by far.

ELLE: I was a kid.

BOBBI: Okay, first of all – you’re not that old –

ELLE: I grew up fast.

BOBBI: So that means you block it out?

ELLE: You saw a couple of crappy shows I put together years ago. They’re about stupid emotional crap I was going through at the time. They’re past and they should stay past. (Pause. BOBBI awkwardly stares back at ELLE.)

BOBBI: I saw something I liked as an artist and I thought I’d share. Look, I know I’m just your twenty year old assistant or whatever, but I’ve seen a few photographs in my twenty years and I know what moves me and what doesn’t and those old photographs– they moved me.

ELLE: Lotus postures aren’t supposed to move you. They’re supposed to sell yoga classes.

BOBBI: Then why does it matter if they’re crap or not? Pick one and be done with it.

ELLE: I still have to sell the classes.

BOBBI: So you do care.

ELLE: Bobbi, this is my job. It’s enough – it pays the bills, I usually don’t want to kill the people I work with.

BOBBI: So you care enough – but not too much. Should I be looking at a pie chart or something?

ELLE: Bobbi –

BOBBI: (Mimicking) My job is 40% income, 25.8% standing the assholes I work with, 12.2% the dental benefits, and maybe trying to squeeze in LIKING IT IN THE LAST FIVE PERCENT!?

ELLE is silent.

BOBBI: Tell me you’re happy. Say out loud that you’re happy living this artist’s life of quiet desperation, so quiet in fact that you won’t even admit to yourself that you’re desperate.

ELLE: I am NOT desperate. How dare you –

BOBBI: Then why do you sit behind closed doors and paint pictures of yourself on your lunch break? Why do you come in here in the mornings looking like you’re about to walk to the scaffolding? No one thinks you’re happy Eleanor.

ELLE: I’m happy. I’m fucking happy. Don’t you dare tell me I’m not happy.

BOBBI: Then tell me you are.

ELLE: I’m happy enough.

BOBBI: Oh I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not leading a life of quiet desperation, you’re leading a life that’s FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH ADEQUACY!

ELLE: Get out.

BOBBI: (Starts to grab her stuff.) Maybe you should take your own advice. Get out.

ELLE: (Knocks the popcorn bowl violently to the ground.) GET THE HELL OUT.

BOBBI: There. Right there? That’s what I saw when you were painting. You were alive. That painting was alive. It’s not about size or exposure, or the kind of camera you use. It’s about heart. A photo taken with heart. You can take it anywhere, of anything. If you love it, it’ll be the best photo you’ve ever taken. These photos are dead. Call me when you quit.

BOBBI exits and ELEANOR is left standing in the middle of the stage. She throws the collection of photos on the ground in fury. Pauses, stares at them, selects a random three out of the pile, puts them in a manilla envelope, drops it in a box labeled “Final Prints” and walks out.

End Scene.

When the smoke finally clears

2011-09-20T00:27:00.005-04:00

A little more than a week ago we closed Dearly Beloved. A labor of love and a testament to using resources well and producing something good on the shoulders of a supportive community with limited means. Putting Dearly Beloved up was one of the hardest things I've ever done in theatre. A lot of what I blog about here is what I love about theatre and why I love producing and creating. And Dearly Beloved showed me a whole new set of things that I love and also things I'm good at that I didn't know about. But it also showed me some things I really hate and really struggle with when it comes to producing, in a way that I didn't expect. Not just because producing a show, no matter what your budget, is more work than any sane person wants to do, but because it was mine. My name was going to be all over this thing. And not in the tangential way your name goes in a program as a character or stage manager or crew person, where if things go horribly wrong you file it under "when bad shows happen to good people". This is my company. Our company. What can this show do to our names? What will it say about the kind of theatre I value? Will people like it? Will people COME? For the week before the show I was overwhelmed with these thoughts. Opening weekend was a complete blur of trying to hold myself together, run the show, and not dissolve into a puddle of liquid anxiety.

2 years ago I sat in the Bertucci's in Kenmore Square across from Kenny and Erika. I met Kenny performing together in Holland Productions' Aloha Say the Pretty Girls and Erika I had just met. We sat and ate and talked. Or mainly I talked and ate and they asked questions and listened. I guess it was an interview of sorts...but I wasn't really sure for what. I knew Kenny had some ideas about starting a fringe company and I knew Erika helped him run the Brandeis Theatre Collective in college and was interested in being his creative partner. I really had no idea where I fit in or what they were looking for. But as always I was just happy to talk shop with people I think are interesting. About a month later we all met again and I realized that Kenny and Erika were under the impression we were all starting a theatre company together. They had a name and a company structure all laid out. And their enthusiasm was exciting.

So I went with it.

It's been an interesting two years. I have been completely in awe of how quickly we have grown; amazed at how accomplished I feel doing the work that we've done; incredibly lucky to get to wear all the hats I want and not have to paint myself only in the "actor" or "producer" or "director" box; and proud to put my name on this company next to Kenny and Erika's.

I realize now, after DB's very very successful run and only now starting to feel normal again, that my anxiety was just a manifestation of my two year investment in The CoLab. So much of myself is stamped on our mission, our productions, our outreach, that it's impossible to separate myself from the event. Of course Kenny and Erika are stamped in there too (thank god, because without them I definitely would have liquified over opening weekend...this business surely is not for the faint of heart) and we wouldn't be The CoLab if any one of us were to jump ship. But it is hard to tie so much of your emotion and energy into something that's ultimate success does not lie solely in your hands.

The run of Dearly Beloved was a huge milestone for the company. And the amount of support and turnout we received were better than I ever hoped for. But the entire process of production was monumental for me. It took everything I had and burned it. Slowly at first and then in a huge raging blaze. And now, the smoke has cleared, and I can see so much more about what the last 2 years have meant to me. And what The CoLab means to me. And how to keep up with it and keep learning and changing with it.

A Lesson from my Grandfather

2011-09-02T09:22:00.002-04:00

Learning is a process that is never complete. People are always susceptible to change and that change is inevitable. My hope is just to embrace it and attack it head on, whether successful or not.

I didn’t want this blog to be anything about my thoughts on what acting or theatre should be. My novelty within the entire scene deems those thoughts comical, to me especially. Although I do not consider them insignificant I know they will probably change by the time I am finished writing this blog.

Instead, I want to use this opportunity to share a few lessons that my experiences over the past year have reawakened.

My grandfather, Papa, is ninety years old. He has lived a life that I cannot even begin to fathom. He was a fighter pilot in WWII, was shot down twice (obviously survived), earned nine Distinguished Flying Crosses, the Air Medal with twenty gold stars, and countless other medals. He was the cofounder and president of a college, he married the love of his life, has six children, twenty-four grandchildren and fourteen great grandchildren, and the list of achievements goes on.

The root of his successes are the relationships he has been able to build throughout his life. He has performed countless acts of generosity that he will never admit to. He treats everyone he meets with the same kindness and genuine interest. One of my earliest memories is going to Papa’s office and into the back door of one of the college kitchens. He would greet everyone from head chef to dishwasher by name and ask them about specific members of their families (unbeknownst to me he also had a habit of giving spontaneous bonuses to these same employees).

He had a tight knit group of over twelve very close friends. He and my grandmother, Nana, are the only surviving members. Sometimes it is hard to understand why these things happen but I think in this case I can offer an explanation. Throughout his life, and to this day, he has attacked every day with incredible zeal. He has managed to discover the perfect recipe for easy-going ambition. He breathes life and lives without regret. One of his favorite quotes, and one that he uses whether making good time to dinner or sinking a ten foot putt, is “Plan your work, work your plan”. While easy to say, this quote is not as easy to put into practice, though he would make it seem otherwise. When things work out for me and more often when they do not, I think of this quote.

It’s easy to lose track of things when going through the day-to-day grind. Having to meet new people on a weekly basis through my newfound theatre adventures has shown me once again that the smallest action or inaction, whether good or bad, affects someone else. Someone is always watching and listening. Understanding that people will be affected by words and deeds is crucial. It is not always possible to understand it completely but just thinking about it feels like a step in the right direction. It seems whenever I have been in an uncomfortable situation, or a situation that involves choosing words carefully, I try thinking to myself “what would Papa do”. This thought has helped me more than I know and I wish it would always come to mind.

In theatre it has become shockingly clear to me that it is essential to become comfortable with those around you. It is not easy. Embracing awkward moments and taking a risk, with the possibility of making that moment more awkward, is something for which I can thank Papa. He is the king when it comes to interrupting uncomfortable silences. Although I can’t pull off some of his jokes yet (server at a restaurant comes to the table and asks if he wants any dessert, he nods to Nana saying “I have my dessert right here”), it is a continuous learning process which I am currently enjoying.

Getting involved in so many new projects all at once (classes, plays, and other shows) has made me understand the importance of these lessons. “WWPD” finds itself in many aspects of my life and it has become even more apparent over the past year. I am so thankful for it. My point, if there is one, is not to try to influence anyone else but to express how grateful I am that these ideas have once again come to light.

Even if the only thing that is taken from this blog is that Patrick has an unnecessarily large family, I hope this can at least add another ingredient to the pot. For me, right now, I don’t know what kind of a product or result will come of these experiences and thoughts. Right now, I’m happy just enjoying the process.

**This post was written by Patrick Poulin who you can see as Julius in Dearly Beloved opening Friday September 9 running through September 17. Tickets: $11.50 online presale, $13.00 cash only at the door. www.brownpapertickets.com

Hearing yourself think

2011-08-26T12:12:00.003-04:00

I am now of the opinion that everyone should experience having their own words read out loud in front of them. Even for a minute, just so they literally can hear themselves think for the first time. It doesn’t have to be with actors on a stage or in front of a camera. Even if you have to pay someone 15 bucks to read something you scribbled on a Dunkin Donuts napkin to random patrons until the manager bans you from Dunkin Donuts for life. And lets face it, that’d be a double blessing because you could probably stand to lose a few pounds.

OK, maybe you don’t, but I should probably lose more than a few.

My point is, that nothing helps you understand your own thought process and its place in the world more than listening to and observing how someone else interprets and interacts with what you’ve created. It gives you remarkable and startling insight into how the world perceives what you say and do. It’s the artistic equivalent of hearing your voice on an answering machine for the first time. Your voice sounds almost foreign to you even though it’s using the same words you did when you left the message and then you’re struck by the fact that this is how the world hears you.

When someone reads what you’ve written out loud for the first time, often, jokes that you thought were obvious were missed; subtext you thought was clear turns out to be muddied; and elements of characterization you thought were unnecessary turn out to be vital. It’s these moments of miscommunication between artists that make it obvious how much collaboration is an intrinsic part of theatre. This collaboration creates a desire to make your intentions clearer for the sake of your collaborators and the work drives you back to your pen, keyboard or hammer and chisel to begin refining your work. Because, thankfully, unlike your voice on an answering machine, you can work to make what you write more like what you heard in your head.

I’d like to thank The CoLab for taking their time with Dearly Beloved and allowing me to hear my words out loud with a plethora of different voices and as many times as was practical. The script would not have been as close to what I imagined without this opportunity.

** This post was written by Brendan Doris-Piece, author of Dearly Beloved premiering at Unity Somerville TWO WEEKS FROM TODAY!

Dearly Beloved
by: Brendan Doris Pierce
Directed by: Erika Geller

Featuring:
Alyce Householter
Patrick Poulin
Tony Rios

September 9, 10, 16, & 17
TICKETS HERE: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/190125

An Autobiography Of A Newbie Director

2011-08-22T14:27:00.001-04:00

Preface. Dearly Beloved, A Brief History: We received this play in its original form in early 2010. Scene Two was included in play. Discovery in July 2010. It was workshopped at an closed reading in January 2011 and given a script-in-hand staging in April 2011. Two directors, three casts, and several drafts later, we went into casting for the world premiere staging in July 2011.

Chapter One. Pre-Production: We've been talking about and workshopping this play for so long that I can't remember a time when June, Julius, and Morrie weren't on my mind. For a long time, the idea of producing the show went hand-in-hand with where we were headed as a company. It was most realized goal we'd had for a long time and a definite jumping off point for us. We started interviewing for directors, and we spoke with some really interesting and qualified candidates, but the more we spoke with people, the more we realized we weren't quite ready to put our baby into someone else's hands. We had spent so much time on the play to the this point, it made the most sense to put the show in the hands of one of the Artistic Directors. Since I had been the play's editor for the workshopping process, we decided that I was the most prepared to direct the show. So off we went.

Chapter Two. Auditions: I don't think I'm a nervous person by default. There are definitely situations where I become a Nervous Nancy, but my general disposition is that of jittery excitement. And so with all of that jittery excitement in tow, I walked into the audition room for Dearly Beloved and started on a new journey. They say you learn the most about auditioning once you sit on the "other side of the table." This is a true statement. But what's an even truer statement is that no matter how nervous you are about walking into the audition room, there's a good chance the auditors are even more nervous that you are. Why? Because they need the right people to walk into the room. And I only needed three actors. I can't even imagine what it's like to cast more people. (Another lesson learned -- putting actors together into organized and productive groups for callbacks is no small feat. Holy mother.)

So we headed into callbacks. I felt better about it, but I was still nervous about "seeing it." Seeing my cast together and feeling, "there it is." But, what they say (I don't know who they are but they certainly have a number of words of wisdom running through this blog post.) is true - when you know, you know. The callback process was not without drama or stress. But eventually, when I saw three names on paper, I knew I had my final June, Julius, and Morrie and that was a fantastic feeling.

Chapter Three. Rehearsals: I'm new at this. I've never directed a show of this length before in a professional setting. As I've mentioned, I was jittery, but it was a good kind of jitter. From the first read, I knew three things: 1. Alyce, Patrick, and Tony are the right trio. 2. This is going to be a lot of work. 3. It is going to be worth it. I have a plan, but I've definitely learned that flexibility is a valuable quality. I don't always have all the answers. In many ways, I know this script backwards and forwards. However, at least once a rehearsal, one of the actors poses a question or makes an observation that I hadn't thought of before (or at least in that particular way) and it reminds me why we call it a rehearsal process. At the end of the day, it is, in fact all process. And I'll confess a little something about my process, sometimes I make it up as I go along. When you realize your first technique is failing miserably, you have to change it up. And thankfully I've got three actors full of imagination, humility, and the desire to try. (Everything from slow dancing to tag to magic lessons - thanks, guys!) And I've come to the realization that "they" were right again. If you cast the right people, half of your job is done for you. We've got 17 days until we open the show and while we've still got a lot of work ahead of us, we're on the right track, and I know this is a show I'm going to be extremely proud of.

Stay tuned for Chapter Four - and we hope you'll join us for the final chapter - PRODUCTION. Catch my directorial debut and the WORLD PREMIERE of Dearly Beloved, September 9, 10, 16, and 17 at Unity Somerville. Featuring: Alyce Householter, Patrick Poulin, and Tony Rios.

--> You can purchase tickets HERE. <--

See you at the show! (I'll be the one grinning ear to ear!)

- EG

The Business of Working With Friends - And Other Tales

2011-08-19T08:00:00.004-04:00

In Spring 2009, my friend Kenny approached me about starting a theatre company. In August 2009, we asked Kenny's former co-star to join us. In the last two years, that co-star, Mary-Liz, gained the title of "friend" and we all officially (read: legally! eep!) became "business partners." And there it was - Kenny and I were in business through friendship and Mary-Liz and I were friends through business. And for the most part, that works well. From time to time we have our squabbles - like any relationship built-to-last, we don't agree on everything. But at our roots, we share the same goals, ideals, and a set of vocabulary we use to communicate with each other. The language creates a set of boundaries and a set of rules for our world. A world where we sometimes say, "I'm taking off my friend hat for the remainder of this staff meeting and I need you to listen to me as my business partner." And that works for us. But, as we expand our horizons and bring more people into the fold, I've started to wonder how we communicate our rules and boundaries to newcomers.

It's easiest when we start by bringing someone in on a professional level because we can neatly say, "Here are our expectations, if you don't think you can meet these, let's renegotiate." Fine. Done. It either works out or it doesn't. But then you start to work with people on a more regular basis and they enter the "friend sphere." So a new set of rules are created - a set where you can ask both more and less of a person because they've "crossed over." But this can still lead to awkward situations because ultimately we have to do what's best for The CoLab as a unit. (In a way, this is simpler because these people knew you first as professionals and hopefully have come to understand that it's not a personal matter, but a professional one... but I digress.)

And then you have the friends who start to work with you within your business title. For me, this is really where things get murky. No matter how hard you try to uphold them, the boundaries and rules get jumbled and confused. Why? Why? WHY?! This is a question I've asking myself for the last six months, one that's particularly started to bother me as we invite people to come out for casting. I like to think that everyone we invite is a professional as well and they understand that an invitation is only invitation and not a guarantee of anything. But if that's true, why do I still get that funny (emotionally gray) twinge in my stomach when I send out a rejection email to an invited auditioner? We try to say - "We invited you because we've enjoyed working with you before and we want to work with you again. I'm sorry it won't work out this time around but please keep us in mind for the future." And it's true - but it still feels odd somehow.

And if you thought that was bad, things get even more confusing as we begin to creep into other fields: directors, techies, playwrights, volunteers, etc. When you're casting a play, the words on the page help you decide what the right move is. The final decision (the final boundary or ruling) boils down to: is this person the right actor for the part? When we move out of the audition room into areas of production, the rules are created as we go and with so many balls in the air, it's often hard to set a standard for everyone to follow ALL OF THE TIME. Now don't get me wrong, I've been around this business long enough to know that it is, in fact, A BUSINESS. I'm not saying that I'm scared of making decisions based on friendships. (Because I'm not.) But it's no wonder that companies go under with this sort of push-and-pull pressure that's on them. And at 24, there's all sorts of other pressures on me besides my new title of Massachusetts Small Business Owner. Basically, what I'm saying (and you might have guessed it) my brain in on overdrive 24/7.

I don't know that there's a clear cut answer to my questions or if I'm really looking for one. The past year has been a crazy-steep learning curve and I anticipate the next year to be an even steeper one. I've learned so much but the deeper we delve into this world, the more I realize that problems I've never considered before will pop up left and right for the next several years. And that's okay, but it gets me thinking because I got into the business due to my passion, my sense of discovery, and the bonds I forged making theatre. I want to make theatre in this professional Boston scene and I want this for a career. Clearly I don't do it for the money or the fame (ha!). I do it for me. Because I love it. And part of that love is the friendships that cross through this professional life. And no matter how I emerge from this experience, as a Boston fringe company slowly staggering to its feet, I want to keep as many professional and personal relationships in tact as possible. This is an exciting time for me, but there's also a lot of heavy thought going on. So, internet friends, I unburden a little of that thought onto you for the time being. Phew. (And sorry for all of the run ons!)

As always, thanks for reading.

XO,

Erika

Why Alyce Does It

2011-08-18T11:41:00.004-04:00

Why I Do It. (Theatre I Mean.)

I never wanted to be famous or have the paparazzi follow me. I never wanted to be the new face of Revlon or have my hand prints in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. I just knew I wanted to act, but why?

The reasons for it changed throughout the course of my young life. First, it was because I wanted to express myself and seek the attention that I thought I rightfully deserved as a child. Then, it was to become someone else and escape the dreaded problems that were my teen years. Finally, when I attended college as an acting major, I began to realize that there was more to it than that. At this moment in my life, I have come to believe there are two solid reasons that I am drawn to work in the theatre.

*Reason 1: The Cathartic Experience that I have while acting has truly guided me through the struggles of my life.

When was in college, I was cast in a production of Samuel Beckett one acts. My one act was called “Rockaby”, which consisted of an old woman who spent 20 minutes in a rocking chair, just rocking back and forth, listening to a recording of her own voice, before she finally dies. At the beginning of the rehearsal process, I struggled to find those emotions and feelings that a person would go through before the end of their life. But suddenly, I received a phone call from my mother telling me that my father was diagnosed with bladder cancer. Because of my father’s already poor health, we feared that he may not make it through the surgeries and chemo. I couldn’t comprehend losing my father, and due to college and rehearsals for my show, I wouldn’t be able to attend any of his procedures. The guilt, fear, and utter sadness was very overwhelming and the only thing I had to get me through that very difficult time was dying in a chair every night. Without that show, I never would have been able to get through not being able to be there for my father. That role was meant for me at that moment in time. The universe gave me the perfect role to deal with my father’s illness, but also, gave me those struggles to be able to portray one of the most truthful characters I have ever played. I know this because my father surprised me on closing night and sobbed like a child watching his daughter go through the same fears and uncertainties that he faced in the hospital only hours before. Now, my father is cancer free and any time we discuss the play he always says, “How did you possibly know the feelings and thoughts that I had during treatment? But you did because I saw it in that play.”

*Reason 2: Theatre creates “oneness” that sparks an awareness of the world outside of ourselves.

Besides being an acting major, I was a Peace Studies and Conflict Resolution minor. I began a chapter of STAND: A Student Anti-Genocide Coalition at BSU, and I knew that I wanted to tie those 2 passions together in some way. So senior year, I produced/directed a play called In Darfur. The play focused on the genocide in the Sudan and all my actors struggled to relate to humans suffering through such an unbelievable crisis. However, by the time the production was ready to open, the actors had all found what they needed to portray their characters truthfully and with great honesty. The key for them was discovering more than their own self-worth, but the awareness of only their essence and connecting that essence with others. Stepping outside ourselves, with only our essence makes all characters and stories tangible.

Upon writing this blog, I found this video of Thandie Newton discussing this idea of “oneness”, much more clearly and eloquently than I. I believe her insight is inspiring to all people, not just performers. And these ideas of catharsis and oneness are the reasons I need to be routed in theatre. They are the reasons that I battle through the grueling audition processes and rejections. Because if I don’t, I fear that I will only get lost in myself and miss the connection to the people and world around me.

This post was written by Alyce Householter. See Alyce as June in our upcoming Dearly Beloved running at Unity Somerville, September 9, 10, 16, and 17. For tickets visit www.brownpapertickets.com

Tony Rios on training, ideals, and community

2011-08-10T13:37:00.002-04:00

Hi. I have not posted to a blog before, so this is very exciting.

When Erika told us in rehearsal we would have a chance to post, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. It’s about an ideal theater training center I have; I like talking about ideal situations because you should always be working down from there if you can’t get your ideal situation, not the opposite. Before we go into that however, I’d like to share a definition of community: “a social group of any size whose members reside in a specific locality, share government, and often have a common cultural and historical heritage.” Well, theater communities everywhere have common cultural heritage to some extent, reside near each other, but don’t share much besides the stage and some drinks. That’s where the idea for this center came.

The center would be a place for the whole theater community to convene and train. It would be at a large space obviously, with “ideally” multiple studio rooms for actors, directors, and playwrights to book at no additional cost (there would be a small monthly fee for members just to pay rent and facilities). In the studios, artists could have workshops, staged readings, weekly classes, and if space is open, rehearsals.

Going with the idea that the center would be owned by the community all of the classes would be instructed by community members. I spoke, with my friend, of a Suzuki Method class in which there wasn’t one instructor, but the whole group were instructors for each other. We thought it would redefine the idea of ensemble building in Suzuki. A group would get together, stomp and run around a bit, and express positives and things that need work about each other’s training. The same could be true about Viewpoints; a group of actors can work in a grid until they decide they are done and talk afterwards. All together, it’s about having each others backs and trying to make the person next to you better as well as yourself.

Directors and actors can work together on scene showings, playwrights can have staged readings, actors can practice monologues, future instructors can take the reigns of a class for a day, designers can show their designs, the possibilities are endless if there was a space for the whole community.

The “ideal” once again, is just a place where theater artists can get together and train. I know for myself I can’t afford classes at a studio, or with a great instructor. The funds just aren’t there. This is a way for almost everyone to have access to training. This would be a way to create the tightest knit theater community in the country. But, like I’ve said ten million times by now to myself, it’s just an ideal. Where can we go from here?

This post was written by Tony Rios. See him as Morrie in our upcoming world-premiere Dearly Beloved by Brendan Doris-Pierce. Tickets and information at http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/190125.

Confessions of a Multi-Tasker

2011-08-01T11:56:00.004-04:00

So currently I'm working as production manager/ producer on two different and simultaneous projects. As well as holding down my day job at Tufts (where the back to school vibe started today...it's amazing how summer is over on August 1 like clock-work) and trying to keep some semblance of order and balance in the rest of my life (hahahahaha). Lucky for me, I am a born Multi-Tasker. I don't take the title lightly. And I enjoy doing the work I'm doing. But, if you know me (or another person who seems to handle juggling lots of projects/responsibilities at once with complete ease and even enjoyment) here are some things you should know.

Confession #1: It makes me secretly gleeful to feel more capable and productive than most people.

Confession #2: The level of anxiety created by the malfunctioning of my smartphone is seriously unhealthy.

Confession #3: I think "Getting Shit Done and Taking Names" should be officially added to all of my job titles

Confession #4: I actually prefer to get more than 4 hours of sleep. But I'm not supposed to tell anyone that.

Confession #5: Trying not to flaunt my multi-task abilities in an effort to make other people feel productive and useful is difficult.

Confession #6: Incompetence drives me insane and it is all I can do to remain calm when presented with raging mistakes, blatant tardiness, or flakes in general.

Confession #7: I realize that most of these things make me sound like a heinous bitch of an individual, but all I want is for people like me and to think I'm good at what I do...so I generally try to keep heinous bitchism to a minimum.

Confession #8: Asking for help makes me feel like I'm failing but being offered help is one of the most amazing things that can happen to me (even if I say I don't need help). Yes this is a flaw in the system. ** Related tip: the phrase "Thank you." goes an extremely long way.

Confession #9: There are times where I consider running away to join a minimalist colony in BoraBora leaving the rest of the world to their own devices.

Confession #10: I'm happy to take on more projects than a sane person should since it makes me feel like I have a place in the world and am lucky to get to do what I love every single day. Even when I want to throw things.

Stay tuned for more updates on my sanity level. And for the two projects I'm currently working on, our first production (!!!) Dearly Beloved by Brendan Doris-Pierce and Family Dinner a short film.

xo ML

This Could Really Be A Good Life

2011-07-25T16:25:00.005-04:00

Ever get that feeling of excitement in your chest when you hear a certain song? It's this flutter. You feel like you can get up and save the world or run for miles or fall in love. "I've Just Seen a Face" by The Beatles does that to me. When it plays on our work soundtrack at the restaurant I usually forget what I'm doing and hum to myself for the next two minutes distractedly. But, I digress. Driving home from today's impromptu lunch with Mary-Liz, "Good Life" by OneRepublic came on the radio.

And maybe it was the thoughts of auditions on my mind but all I could think of was the forward momentum we have right now as a small group of theatre professionals. And with this in my mind, I got that excited flutter. My heart started pumping and I had one of those, "Oh yes" moments. There are times when I wonder if all the work we've put in so far will be worth it. Will it pay off in the end? Will we succeed? And then I remember our mission statement, "We focus on the process, not the product." Every day is a learning experience and every learning experience reminds me, this is the good life. Not the easy life, not the stable life, or even the forecastable life BUT THE GOOD LIFE. The life I want right here and right now - the life I'm putting together with people who share my goals and ideals.

(Dinosaurs.)

I learned so much from play. Discovery this summer and I'm excited to put those lessons to use for Dearly Beloved. (You know, so I can make new mistakes and have new panic attacks. Ha. But seriously...) First lesson: list making will get you far. You can't plan for the half the things that are going to happen and a list will keep you on top of all of it. Second lesson: PLAN THE STUFF YOU CAN PLAN FOR. We've been working for so long under the umbrella KEML that it didn't occur to me how tough it would be to plan out schedules and problem shoot for 13 different people. Holy guacamole. (PS - Thanks, everyone, for being so patient and fabulous.) Third lesson: You can plug two sets of work lights into a heavy duty power strip, but the third set is just going to blow the whole thing.

In all seriousness though, after the overwhelming support we received during both our Kickstarter campaign and play. this summer, I have a new breath of confidence as we head into this new process. Our first full length production. I'll be blogging the whole way through (for serious this time, kiddos.) and you'll get to hear from some the other people involved with the process as well. It's going to be a wild ride, but in the end, I think this could really be a good life. :)

Oh, and you didn't think I wouldn't share this now, did you?!

XO,

Erika

Dearly Beloved By Brendan Doris-Pierce, Directed by Erika Geller premieres September 9-17, 2011, at Unity Church of God in Davis Square. In the mood to audition? We have a limited number of spots left for tomorrow (Tuesday). Click here!

Meet Daniel Bourque

2011-07-12T13:52:00.004-04:00

No he's not related to the famous Bruin, but director of Jick and Dane and Love, Dan is definitely making his own mark on Boston.

Daniel Bourque is enormously pleased to be directing for the CoLab Theatre. He most recently directed for the F.U.D.G.E. Theatre Company in their One-Act Festival and served as Associate Director on the OperaHub production of The Four Note Opera. His extensive area directing credits include work with the Footlight Club, Another Country Productions and Company One (SlamBoston Series) The Atlantis Playmakers, Turtle Lane Playhouse, Whistler in the Dark, in the Boston Theatre Marathon, for Playwright's Platform and many more. Regional credits include work with Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany NY where he spent two years as Assistant to the Artistic Director/Literary Intern, Stageworks in Hudson NY with the Summerstage Program and as an Assistant Director at the Westport Country Playhouse. A member of the Lincoln Center Theater Directors Lab, he is a graduate of the University of Southern Maine and a Maine native

See Dan's work on Jick and Dane and Love by MJ Halberstadt as part of play.Discovery July 13 & July 15 @ 8pm, Unity Somverville, 6 William St. Somerville MA. All tickets $5 cash at the door. Reservations are still available for Friday's performance by emailing colabtheatre@gmail.com.

Meet Tony Rios

2011-07-11T20:51:00.004-04:00

Meet everyone's favorite dinosaur enthusiast and returning "play."er Tony Rios!

Tony (Dane at 9, Jick and Dane and Love) is a recent graduate of Brandeis University majoring in Theater and History. He is thrilled to have the opportunity to work with CoLab again, they're great folks. Previous theater credits include (directing:) Big Love, No Exit, and The Lonesome West. Previous acting credits include Three Sisters, Love's Labour's Lost, The Game of Love and Chance, Cloud 9, Aloha, Say the Pretty Girls, Measure for Measure, The Einstein Project, among many others. He's looking forward to working his butt off in the Boston area. Big thanks to this talented crew of people.

See Tony in Jick and Dane and Love and as part of the ensemble in play. Discovery July 13 & 15 @ 8pm, Unity Church of God 6 William St. Somerville MA all tickets $5 minimum donation, cash only at the door.

Meet Rob Orzalli

2011-07-07T12:00:00.002-04:00

Meet recent grad and new play-mate Rob Orzalli!

Rob (Van, Pendulum) is a recent graduate of Brandeis University and is so excited to be involved in this production! He did a number of shows at Brandeis including Rent (Collins) and Story of My Life (Thomas) as some of his favorites. Now, he is exploring the big world outside of college and this show is a great transition.

See Rob in Pendulum and as part of the ensemble in play. Discovery July 13 & 15 @ 8pm, Unity Church of God 6 William St. Somerville MA all tickets $5 minimum donation, cash only at the door.

Meet Kim Klasner

2011-07-06T11:06:00.004-04:00

Here's the hysterically funny Kim Klasner!

(Louise, The Moustache) A graduate of University of Massachusetts - Amherst, Kim is absolutely thrilled and excited to be making her CoLab Theater debut in play. Discovery. Some of her past performances include the Boston Actors Theater’s SLAMBoston, the Continuity Theater and Dance Company’s Savage/Love, and the Actors Refuge Repertory Theater & New African Theater’s The Vagina Monologues. When Kim is not working in the wonderful world of publishing, she enjoys dancing (poorly), knitting (projects she will never finish), listing out her life (top interests: charades and documentaries, top fears: sink holes and giant squids) and daydreaming about what it would be like to be Beyonce (of course, amazing, duh). If you ever see her around, don’t be afraid to say hello!

See Kim in The Moustache and as part of the ensemble in play. Discovery, July 13 & 15 @ 8pm. Unity Church of God, 6 William St. Somerville MA. Tickets $5 minimum donation, cash only at the door.

Meet Tierra Allen

2011-07-05T17:22:00.003-04:00

Meet the youthful and lovely play. alum, Tierra Allen!

Tierra (Jick at 9, Jick and Dane and Love) is excited to rejoin The CoLab after the awesome experience of co-creating play. Growing Up, last summer! Since then, she's performed with A.R.R.T. and New African Company in Philomena Across Time and The Vagina Monologues and with F.V. Productions in The 24's. Favorite past productions include Stop Kiss (Callie), Eurydice (Loud Stone), For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/ When the Rainbow is Enuf (Lady in Green). She holds a B.A. in Theatre Studies & Dance from Amherst College, where she graduated Magna Cum Laude, and co-directs City on Hill Public Charter School's drama program.

See Tierra in Jick and Dane and Love by MJ Halberstadt and as part of the ensemble in play. Discovery July 13 & 15 @ 8pm. Unity Church of God, 6 William St. Somerville MA.

Cassie M. Seinuk - Playwright

2011-07-01T12:26:00.006-04:00

Meet the powerfully poignant playwright of Pendulum, Cassie M. Seinuk.

Cassie's recent successes include: the title of Best Play at SWAN Day March Madness Festival in Boston for her ten-minute play Robin’s Nest, the play also appeared at the Girl Play Lesbian Theatre Festival. In addition, Salem Theatre Company’s Moments of a Play Festival will be producing her play February First is an Annual Thing July 22-25^th; simultaneously her one act The Muse will be performed at the Samuel French Off Off Broadway Festival directed by Kenny Steven Fuentes, a revival of the Young Actors Winter Festival production. In the past year her play, Runner: ~~The Novel~~ The Play received a staged reading as part of the Inchworm PlayReading Series with Holland Productions. The Free Play Theatre Cooperative produced the workshop script of “Runner” back in 2009. Pendulum is the 4^th play of her 52 Plays in 52 Weeks project. Cassie is currently an MFA student in Writing for Stage and Screen at Lesley University.

See Pendulum as part of play. Discovery July 13 & 15 @8pm. Unity Church of God, 6 William St. Somerville MA. Tickets are $5 cash at the door.

Introducing Patrick Poulin

2011-06-30T11:32:00.004-04:00

Meet funny man, man's man, man about town Patrick Poulin!

Patrick is proud to say he is from West Roxbury, MA. He graduated from the University of New Hampshire and majored in nothing related to theatre. He has performed throughout his life as an actor in real-life situations such as: the time he wanted to make it seem like he felt bad about taking the last slice of pizza, acting like he was happy for the other team that beat his in the little league baseball championship, and pretending he knows more about current professional sports than he really does. Patrick so excited to be a part of the cast of play.Discovery, especially considering he went into the audition thinking the CoLab was where he had an appointment to get blood-work done.

See Patrick as Dane at 18 (Jick and Dane and Love), Jake (The Moustache) and as part of the Ensemble in play. Discovery July 13 & 15 @ 8pm. Unity Church of god 6 William St. Somerville MA. Tickets $5 Cash at the door.

Meet Director - Meron Langsner

2011-06-29T09:12:00.006-04:00

Meron Langsner (Director – Pendulum) successfully defended his dissertation this past May and will be receiving his PhD in Theatre History from Tufts University in August. Previous directing credits include No Exit at Tufts, Tonya & Nancy: The Opera at the Zero Arrow Theatre, and various selections from Susan-Lori Parks 365 Days/365 Plays project. Meron was one of three writers in the country selected for the National New Play Network Emerging Playwright Residencies, his work has been performed around the country and overseas and published by Smith & Kraus, Applause, YouthPLAYS, and others. As a fight director, he has composed violence for Merrimack Rep, New Rep, Lyric Stage, Company One, Zeitgeist Stage, Whistler in the Dark, and numerous academic venues. Meron holds an MA in Performance Studies from NYU/Tisch and an MFA in Playwriting from Brandeis.

See Pendulum (by Cassie M. Seinuk) as part of play. Discovery July 13 & 15, 2011 @ 8pm. Unity Church of God, 6 William St. Somerville MA. All tickets $5 cash at the door.

Meet The Moustache's, Rachel Kurnos!

2011-06-28T10:17:00.005-04:00

Rachel Kurnos (Mary, The Moustache & Ensemble) is an actress, director, photographer, theater educator, preschool teacher, and singer. Basically, she's too many things to fit onto a business card. Summed up: Rachel is a teacher by day, actress by night. And she is excited to make her CoLab debut! Recent credits include: Sis in WASP (HMT), Third Witch in Macbeth (Gurnet Theater Project), Nurse in Alice in Bed (Do it Live! Productions), and Jess inHer Dying Wish (SLAMBoston/Holland Productions). College credits include: Isabella (Measure for Measure), Erica (subUrbia), Sophia (Fools), Alice (Squabbles), and Lillian (I Hate Hamlet).

See Rachel as part of the play. Discovery ensemble and in Boris Babakov's The Moustache July 13 & 15 @ 8pm. Unity Church of God, Davis Square. $5 Cash at the door.

Aspiring meets Inspiring

2011-06-27T09:09:00.001-04:00

*This post was written by Guest Blogger and play. Discovery (Jick and Dane and Love) playwright MJ Halberstadt*

One time on Arlington Street, I fell in love with a bench. Its slender and curvy frame was carved carefully out of a beautiful and light-colored wood. The back of the bench wound itself in a letter ‘s’ suspended above the seats, forcing two sitters to be faced away from one another. The model was labeled ‘Alienation Bench’ and was displayed prominently in the window of Thos. Moser Cabinetmakers.

This was not a rare outburst of objectophilia, it was the common occurrence of inspiration which will make anyone who knows me roll their eyes. The most seemingly random every-day things inspire me to jot a note in a pocket-sized book that prompts a play later on. Usually the play has nothing to do with the source material and in the case of the alienation bench, the play (His Husband and Her Wife) ended up being about two people whose outlooks on life mimic the position of sitters on said bench: failing to engage in friendship despite being in very similar places and looking for relief from outside.

My antennas for inspiring gems became alarmingly sensitive during my 365 Plays in 365 Days project, itself a product of having been inspired by Suzan-Lori Parks similar exercise. This is where Jick and Dane and Love comes from, which I wrote shortly after listening to Meg Wolitzer’s story “First Love, Long Island” on the Moth Podcast. Wolitzer speaks of her own evolving idea of intimate relations as she matured, a similar journey Jick experiences during the play, antagonized by her friend Dane’s alternate idea of ‘maturity’. If you’re interested, Sufjan Stevens’ song “The Owl and the Tanager” came up on iTunes DJ partway through my writing the final scene, and I credit it as being like a cold shower after dirty thoughts.

There really is no way to pin down what strikes one’s fancy, and I’d love to be able to shut it off so I could sleep rather than feel obliged to write after such mundane experiences as staring at someone’s shoes in a waiting room or burning rice or being served by a disgruntled employee at Panera. I suppose it is equal parts curse and blessing and sometimes pays off in funny ways. For example, Joseph Stollenwerk, a salesman from Thos. Moser Cabinetmakers, loved the play about the bench.

*** MJ Halberstadt is Playwright-in-Residence at FV Productions and working towards his MFA in Playwriting at Boston University. He graduated Emerson College in 2010 (BA Theatre Education) where he produced his plays Asymmetry and Lethologica (EVVY Award) and served as Historian for RareWorks Theatre Company. As Literary Intern for Holland Productions and Artistic Director of The Bantamweight Plays(RareWorks Theatre) and 24/24 (Umbrella Theatre Company), he has helped produce and select for several new play series. Jick and Dane and Love comes from Halberstadt's 365 Plays in 365 Days project which contains plays that have been developed, produced and read by STAB, Happy Medium Theatre, Emerson College, Umbrella Theatre Company and Camp Stanley, among others. Many thanks to the production team, CoLab Theatre, Brian and Nicholas.

Controversy In Boston!

2011-06-23T17:48:00.006-04:00

As ya'll may or may not have heard, The StageSource ice recently received an anonymous letter with a list of grievances regarding the casting process and difficulties of being a Boston actor. The excerpts posted by StageSource are worth reading, and many people have commented, but I have additional thoughts:

I read this letter wearing two hats. Responsible, thoughtful analytical Kenny. And "z0mg what a whiny little..." Kenny. We shall start with the first hat.

So many of us are freelancers, and I think we all have at least a little sympathy for the frustrations of moving up the ladder in a competitive market. I know plenty of actors (and directors, playwrights, etc.) who have expressed frustration with the predictability of some companies and their casting choices. Sometimes these gripes are valid and sometimes they are not. Casting directors and producers are sometimes scared to take risks, and play it safe. As a small theatre producer and director myself, I assure you, that we're scared shitless when it comes to casting. It takes balls to take a risk on new or unfamiliar faces, though I do agree that the risk is well worth it.

However, I do not believe this is unique to Boston. I know there will be a few people who feel this way, but it's so easy to believe that one's feelings are universal. I would be interested to see a legitimate study done on this topic. TCG does these surveys on a national level all the time. Before we go making large, broad accusations, maybe we should try collecting some data and getting that ball rolling. Hell, the writer of this letter did just that, though I'm not sure they expected to be published. I for one commend StageSource for making such a big deal about this, because yeah, it is a really important question to discuss. And to those who immediately go off about "Nothing will change"...

Grow up. This is a self defeating attitude and there's nothing I find more frustrating than the whiners who do nothing.

(Excuse me while I put on the second different hat.)

I've always been a late bloomer. When I started out as a freelancer in Boston three years ago, I was sleeping on couches, surviving off expired food and going to every audition I could go to. I had no name, I had no resume outside of college and I certainly had no confidence. I did a few shows my first year, some of which I enjoyed, and some of which I had some gripes with. Rarely, did I ever feel disrespected or treated like cattle, which is something that does happen in some of the larger markets. But I, too, became frustrated with some aspects of the Boston theatre status quo However, as loudmouthed as I am, I did one thing very different.

I did something about it. My main gripes about theatre, as many people know, are 1) lack of paid work at the fringe level and 2) the lack of focus on solid, improvisational and liberated acting in favor if overly polished, excessively rehearsed mechanical acting. But I digress. What's really important is that I did something about it. I self produce, I network the hell out, and I publicly own up to all my crazy thoughts. I have confidence in my logic, passion and righteousness and that is why I put my name on things. This goes for all things in life, whether it be art or politics or love or what have you.

I'll go off topic for a moment and recall the 2004 presidential elections. I remember being a young lad in college, sighing with disappointment at the apparent reelection of Grover Cleveland, the dasterdly yankee president who put down the Whiskey Rebellion (look it up) and I wondered what would happen to this nation. How could we have lost? And then I remember the chorus of whiners: "I'm moving to Canada" and "Americans are so stupid, I can't believe we elected Cleveland on two nonconsecutive occasions" types. The whiners. The people who bitch and moan from afar, but whose idea of "political activism" meant wearing a hat covered in political slogans and preaching to the choir in the student campus center, enjoying their care packages shipped overnight on their mommy's credit card...

Woah... Sorry. I got off topic there... So my point is, there's a mature way to go about things. And there's the one that makes you feel good, but ultimately does nothing to solve the problem.

Grow up and do something. Self produce. Organize. Stir up controversy. Be like Ian Thal or Thomas Garvey, and HAVE SOME BALLS! Nevermind what you think about their opinions, these dudes are heard and people take them seriously. Say what you think, be bold and take that risk because chances are, people are out there who agree with you and will stand with you. They're just waiting for someone to speak up.

Hmm... I didn't swear as much as I thought I would...

And finally, I'm going to take off my hat and tip it to StageSource. You guys were attacked for no reason. It is not your job to tell theatres how to run their businesses. You did your job beautifully by engaging the community in a constructive manner in the face of adolescent tantrum tossing. I would've been tempted to just take that letter and either 1) throw it out or 2) show it to the office, laugh and throw it out or 3) post it on the blog edited with MS paint. Which, of course, is totally immature...

But seriously. Alot of people are talking. I'm not the first, and I know I won't be the last. The CoLab strives to break the chains of safety casting, and I know there's many other young producers and directors out there who will take heed and think seriously about the real underlying issues at hand here.

Best,

~~Anonymous~~

--
Kenny Steven Fuentes
Founding Artistic Director
The CoLab Theatre Company

You know how to find me.

We believe in the how, not the what. The process, not the product!

The Headshot Dilemma

2011-06-01T02:23:00.006-04:00

I enjoy doing things on a whim. It's who I am, and it's probably why I'm in this profession. Except in my line of work, I call whims instinct. But that's another story for another time. The point is, I walked into my hair appointment today and I said to my hairdresser, "Get rid of it." I could blame Dianna Agron and the Glee season finale. If her short hair didn't look so damn cute I might not have cut it. But I did.

And I like it. A lot.

But I have an audition tonight. And I look completely different from my headshots. Now, I've been needing new headshots for awhile. (I won't tell you when my last set where taken but I need a new face. To print.) But in my current one, you can at least tell it's me. I keep my hair around the same length, don't wear a lot of make up, and my look hasn't changed that much since college. (Well, there's a hint...)

BUT I'm about to walk into this audition with a totally different hair cut. This obviously wasn't a big concern for me when the whim swept me, but I'm thinking about it now. And so here's my question, what's the rule with headshots? I'm not an Equity actress. Most of the time I don't get paid for my work. How often should I be replacing my headshots? I'm obviously not going to run my life around what I look in these photos, but should that have been a forethought instead of an afterthought?

I DONT KNOW. I'm asking you, loyal readers. My photos are here for your viewing pleasure. Would you recognize me post-auditions? What should I do about my next set of auditions?

ADVISE ME.

Making a Discovery

2011-05-31T10:54:00.001-04:00

Annoucing play. Discovery

Performing: July 13 & 15, 2011

Seeking:
3 to 5 male actors
3 to 5 female actors
ages 20 - 35.

Auditions will be held Thursday June 9, 2011 from 6:00 - 9:00pm

Callbacks will be held on Saturday, June 11 in the early afternoon.

Please prepare a one minute monologue and come prepared with a special trick or talent - auditions will be given in 5 minute slots.

E-mail us at colabtheatre@gmail.com for an appointment.

This year's plays:

Jick and Dane and Love
By: MJ Halberstadt
Directed by: Daniel Bourque

Jick and Dane and Love is the chronologically impossible story of two 9-year-olds growing up one at a time and too quickly for one another. When Jick is 18, she is too emotionally conservative for Dane but when Dane is 18, he is too sexually liberal for Jick. Jick and Dane and Love is the September 2 play of Halberstadt's 365 Plays in 365 Days project inspired by Suzan-Lori Parks.

Pendulum
By: Cassie M. Seinuk
Directed by: Meron Langsner

Ada and Van, a psychiatric assistant and an elementary school English teacher, knew they were in love the moment they met, but after a traumatic event at a local mall leaves Ada in shambles, she gives her husband, Van, the permission to sleep with other women. When Van returns home from his first encounter with another woman, Ada isn't so sure she made the right choice.

The Moustache
By: Boris Babakov
Directed by: Mary-Liz Murray

Friendship, subterfuge, and the pressures of time come together in this tale about the dangers of too much orange juice in your vodka. The moral of the story is that a compact of pressed powder can solve almost any problem. Or can it?

And ...

Discovery
a piece to be written and created by the ensemble cast
Directed by: Mary-Liz Murray

Shakespeare the Musical

2011-05-27T12:05:00.012-04:00

I'm used to somehow spending my summer with Shakespeare. About this time I'm rewrapping my brain around the language and naturally thinking about the wherefores and whatfores that go into producing the Bard professionally. But this year, I will be content with blogging briefly about it.

With Shakespeare we all start in the same place -- the text. Before you pass this off as another "dedicate-yourself-to-the-text" missive I want to say that the only reason you do so is in order to dismiss it. The best performers are so immersed in the language that even when they go up on their lines they're able to improv in iambs. You have to intellectualize this incredible poetry simply to understand and live in the text. We have to relearn how to hold the words in our mouths and live in these worlds.

So you've checked your lexicon for obscurities, rocked out your scansion, and done your breath work already? Great. Now what are you feeling? Why are you saying it? I've never been more bored watching Shakespeare than when emotion was mechanical and language was completely misunderstood. They might as well be saying:

daDUM, daDUM, *sad* daDUM, daDUM, daDUM
*angry* daDUM, daDUM....

If you can't tell your coach or best friend the arch of your soliloquy, it isn't ready for the stage. What does your character realize by the end?

Now get into your body! Don't remember the words -- remember the feelings! What does your body do when it's sad, incensed, delighted?

It's the soliloquy that kills or thrills the audience. Maybe it's because I'm currently working on a musical, but I'm ready to argue that a Shakespeare monologue/soliloquy isn't much different than breaking out into song. There comes a point in musicals where words are useless, and the only effective way to communicate this heightened feeling is to sing it!

Think about Hamlet's decision not to kill his uncle in the chapel (III.iii).

Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;
And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven;
And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd:
A villain kills my father; and for that,
I, his sole son, do this same villain send
To heaven.
O, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
He took my father grossly, full of bread;
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?
But in our circumstance and course of thought,
'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged,
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and season'd for his passage?
No!
Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent:
When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed;
At gaming, swearing, or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in't;
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
And that his soul may be as damn'd and black
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.

Now let's think about Sweeney Todd's "My Friends." (For those of you unsure of the melody here's a bit of YouTube for you to listen along. I've removed Mrs. Lovett's lines so follow closely to Todd's lines.)

These are my friends.
See how they glisten.
See this one shine...
How he smiles in the light.
My friend.
My faithful friend...
Speak to me friend.
Whisper...
I'll listen.
I know, I know you've been locked
out of sight
all these years, like me
My friend...
well I've come home to find you waiting.
Home, and we're together!
And we'll do wonders.
Won't we?
You there, my friend?
Come let me hold you.
Now,
with a sigh, you grow warm in my hand.
You're warm in my hand.
My friend!
My clever friend...
Rest now, my friends.
Soon, I'll unfold you.
Soon you'll know splendors
You never have dreamed
all your days
my lucky friends
'Til now your shine
was merely silver.
Friends, you shall drip rubies,
you'll soon drip precious rubies...
At last! My arm is complete again!

Both characters are thinking revenge, both have sudden changes. Both are ripe with ideas, consequences. Both are secret internal conversations. Both build! Both are the truth!

If you know Sweeney Todd I dare you to re-read Hamlet's soliloquy and NOT try singing it.

Call for Actors

2011-05-19T18:52:00.002-04:00

Hey friends and followers,

If you have a block of time free during the days next week and want to pick up a project, students at the Center for Digital Imaging Arts (shout out to our amazing Kickstarter director Casey Preston!) are working on a short narrative film and need actors. They're working with a script written specifically for the project, a crime drama, and need 2 males and 1 female 20s - 30s. Weekday availability and transportation to Waltham center is necessary. The footage will be available for actor reels.

If you're interested shoot an email to caseyapreston@gmail.com.

Happy Rapture!

- The CoLab

Capital T

2011-05-12T13:57:00.001-04:00

A Facebook quote recently reminded me of a Stella Adler quote:

"The word theatre comes from the Greeks. It means the seeing place. It is the place people come to see the truth about life and the social situation."

Hmm. What a novel idea. Right? Truth. We can see something fictitious and still believe it. We can see something outlandish and still believe it. But if we see something false, it's dead to us. What makes it false?

This brings me to two thoughts about Truth that are probably dissertations in themselves -- in theatre and culturally.

Say we see an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. Outlandish characters, larger than life personalities, unrealistic situations and riddles (for the most part), but we still go along with it, because we see Truth in Alice (and, ultimately, Dodgson/Carroll). We can see ourselves vicariously making critical choices throughout the performance. In a more realistic production, O'Neill or Letts for example, if there's a personality or circumstance we don't quite get, i.e. "why would anyone keep dating her," we don't have to identify with the character as much as we have to find a clue as to why they are acting this way. There must be evidence on stage -- even for a fleeting moment. It doesn't have to be said, it can be shown. It can be a bit of compassion or a slice of kleptomania, but it has to be justified. We are interesting Humans in that we need this, no?

False theatre can happen whenever character motivations are poorly portrayed -- or even overlooked. And this can be the fault of the the playwright, the director, the actor... but it will never be the fault of the audience.

My second thought on "Truth" asks a much larger question culturally. Ms. Adler's quote reminds us of the Greeks who traveled thousands of miles to see "truth about life and social situation." Here, Deus ex Machina and the Cheshire Cat aside, we see that theatre is the cultural tell-all; that drawing parallels allows us to say make statements about our own lives.

So, where does America go for truth?

I'm not trying to be a FOX, CNN, CNBC, Daily Show commercial, though you (and I) will notice the first things that came to my mind to write were news stations. Theatre is a slice of life and a form of entertainment, and is still drawing parallels as well as lines in the sand, but will it ever fully reclaim the place of Truth? Has it evolved? Has it de-evolved? Frequently, in countries other than our own, theatre is still the best way to inform people of disease, political action, and more! Does some of this have to do with literacy and language barriers? Sometimes, but never always. Augusto Boal's Theatre of the Oppressed focuses on the daily lives of citizens. Through Forum Theatre they create ideas that demonstrate the truth so that the audience can do what they wish with the information. What empowerment!

The Truth is under so much gloss today. Most of us know we're being sold to. Even comedy has evolved to such a detached level that we are making Rebecca Black #1 on iTunes. You have to be considered a conspiracy theorist (WikiLeaks included) before you can make a point about questioning the government (I bet there's a great piece of theatre in that thought -- anyone wanna work on it with me?). However, I will say, that it is becoming increasingly hard to consider a conspiracy theorist false these days.

That was a bit of a wild tangent, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is theatre evolving or de-evolving from its truth telling roots?

What to see this weekend

2011-05-06T14:44:00.004-04:00

Hi everyone!

So it's been a few weeks since my last post, tsk tsk tsk. But can you blame me? It's been a whirlwind of things going on! I had a really quick and dirty run of a show at the Factory, helped launch our Script-in-hand-Staging of Dearly Beloved, have been reading and reviewing our many play submissions for play. Discovery, scheduling interviews for potential directors, and last but not least getting our super-duper Kickstarter campaign up and running. It's been tough to make time to sit down and get thoughts to page. I have managed to squeeze in a little bit of theatre going, though and here are some things I'm seeing this weekend (or would like to see this weekend) so I encourage you to do the same!

Blood Rose Rising: Episode 3 - Performs tonight only at 9pm - Zero Church Street, Cambridge, MA (First Parish Church, lower level), I saw episode 2 last week and was really wowed by the concept. It's a workshop performace intended to gain some investors for a fully realized production, but I had more fun watching this show than I have in a while. Check it out, it's a really neat idea and definitely gave me some food for thought about the future of the audience experience.

Book of Grace - Company One - Through 5/7/11 at the BCA Plaza Theatre. I haven't seen this one, but the critics love it, and I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for the C1 clan. Tix at www.bostontheatrescene.com

True West - RoughWeek - An all female cast takes on Shepard's classic brother dramedy in their apartment, with wine to boot. You couldn't keep me away with a sharp stick. Sataurday and Sunday at 8pm

Hotel Cassiopeia - Fort Point Theatre Channel - The earnest and off-the-beaten-path company takes on the surreal and whimsical Charles Mee. A natural fit. I'll be ushering next weekend (I think...) but it's opening weekend so head on down to Fort Point and check out their new space and what promises to be an interesting night of theatre.

{Working Title} Film Festival - presented by local spoken-word group ARTiculation (a group originally cultivated by Company One) and sponsored by The Video Underground. A night of short films by young and local film makers with a $5.00 cover. Check it out TONIGHT ONLY at The Yes. Oui. Si gallery space on 19 Vancouver St Boston, MA.

Hopefully I can catch up on my blogging in the next couple of weeks with some more substantial postings, but for now GO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL THEATRES. And if you haven't already, throw a few dollars our way to help us reach our Dearly Beloved production budget of $1500 through Kickstarter.

Happy Friday,

ML

Staged Reading vs. Script-in-Hand

2011-04-25T08:19:00.006-04:00

On Wednesday, April 27th we're staging the second phase of our workshop of "Dearly Beloved." It's a script-in-hand staging and I hope you'll join us.

I can hear some of you thinking it out there, but I'll put it on the page: How does a script benefit from a script-in-hand staging? As you may know we've already had a staged reading. A reading paints the broad strokes textually. It tells you several things about the play including character motivation, continuity issues, and perhaps the greatest boon: what the audience thinks. Receiving audience feedback about what was confusing or interesting will frame the next draft. From a staged reading the playwright should be fueled to round out the script to a newly cohesive piece.

Essentially, a script-in-hand staging is different from a staged reading in that we are going from narration to motivation. Are these lines motivating? Do they naturally build in action beyond on the page? Are the mechanics working? Do my characters inhabit a world that gives them business? What do I need to give them? The playwright needs to see the rhythm of the script matching the rhythm of the stage. If you as an audience find yourself saying, "what-the-what?" you probably just witnessed the script dragging. Maybe it was for a joke that was built in or a plot point that may fit better somewhere else.

Having directed a few script-in-hand stagings -- all of which took place in a "contemporary" or "real" setting -- I realize it is challenging to truly feel connected to the world you're acting in. The actors have scripts in their hands, they are acting their faces off (because they don't have to worry about lines), but they can't "mean-clean" the kitchen because the kitchen consists of a table upstage. The physical space is missing... on actors and on stage. We can see your head, heart, and hands acting, but because of the nature of the beast we will miss the nuance of the whole body acting.

But that's not what a script-in-hand staging is about.

All this being said, I can see how this step is essential for new playwrights. It allows the playwright to ask him/herself, "is this how I see the story I want to tell?"

I want to hear your experiences though. Any actors, directors, playwrights or producers out there ever experience other benefits or detriments from staged readings or script-in-hand stagings?
-----
Dearly Beloved - A Script-in-Hand Staging by Brendan Doris-Pierce
Wednesday, April 27
Unity Church of God
6 William Street, Somerville, MA

Drying Ink

2011-04-13T19:12:00.006-04:00

On the T yesterday there was a young woman next to me who was writing poetry. Now, as much as I try not to eavesdrop (or read over shoulders) I couldn't help it. This poetry was coming out of the tip of her pen so quickly that it was distracting me from my own reading. I pulled my cap down tight around my eyebrows and watched (because, of course, that is less creepy).

She used a rolling ball pen, not the usual cake-y thick ink, rather it was mercurial and soaked into the page immediately. It was fascinating to watch her fill the pages. She expediently filled the pages of a wide-rulde spiral notebook by writing double-spaced in her first draft. Then she went back to the top line and rewrote it with different colors (meaning word choices) underneath. The line was stronger, more pointed, and more exciting.

What was she writing about? I couldn't tell you a single word.

So why am I inspired to write about this? Because of the seemingly simple discovery that it is more interesting to watch the ink dry, than it is to read the lines themselves. Meaning, the forward action is what draws attention -- or at least should. Anticipating the next thought and change was exciting, and I had no idea what was coming!

What's next in your text?

Juliano Mer-Khamis: Actor, Director, Peacemaker

2011-04-12T01:00:00.000-04:00

"When I'm onstage, I feel like I'm throwing stones. We won't let the occupation keep us in the gutter. To me, acting is like throwing a molotov cocktail. Onstage, I feel strong, alive and proud." - Ashraf Abu Al Hayja, former student student of Juliano Mer-Khamis, killed in 2002 during the Battle of Jenin.

Photo Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

The next time a politician, pundit, or man on the street tries telling you the arts don't matter, please tell them about the life of Juliano Mer-Khamis, Founder of The Freedom Theatre, actor and "100% Jew and 100% Arab".

Jule, as he was known to his friends and colleagues, was born in Nazareth, Israel to a Jewish mother and Arab father. His Mother, Arna, was a member of the Palmach, an elite unit of the pre-Israel Jewish paramilitary armed forces. At the start of the Israeli War of Independence, Arna enthusiastically took arms for the establishment of a Jewish state. By the close of the conflict, she became disillusioned by political Zionism after helping to drive out Arabs from their homes.

Decades later, Arna founded a community center for children in Jenin, a city in the occupied West Bank. Initially viewed with suspicion, she slowly won over the trust of the Palestinians and provided a refuge for refugee children to paint, dance and play.

In the late 1980's and early 90's, during the first "Intifada" (One of two acknowledged major Palestinian uprisings. Literally, "shaking off".) Juliano, a popular actor of the Israeli stage and screen, came to Jenin to help his mother run the theatre on the top floor of a space donated by the mother of a young boy named Zachariah Zubeidi. During these years, Juliano filmed the work of his mother with the young boys of Jenin as she offered them an alternative outlet for their rage. In words of one of Juliano's students, Yousef:

"I can tell people how I feel. What I want and what I don't want. Whether I love life or not."

Some of the other boys discussed their own prejudices:

"We thought, he's jewish, he's come to spy on us... We thought you were spying for the occupation, but then we got to know you..."

"I thought: Why isn't there an Arab who would do this for us? Why would the jews who are the enemies of the arabs, why would they do this for us? I really wondered."

A few years after Arna's death, Juliano left Jenin to continue his career as an actor. During these years, the theatre went defunct and the boys grew up in the refugee camp as their Israeli and European friends moved on with life outside of the occupied territories. Juliano would not return to Jenin for nearly 7 years.

In 2001, Juliano received a call from a friend who had taken footage of the aftermath of a suicide attack in Hadera that killed four Israeli women. They decided to review the footage to see if they could trace the perpetrators and do something about the tragedy.

In the video above, Juliano describes his pain what he discovered (7:10):

"I discovered that it's my... It's my Yousef... He's the most talented, charming boy... "

Juliano returned to Jenin in 2002 with a camera crew, and discovered that most of the boys he taught as children had taken arms and been killed in the previous weeks. He meets up with one of the survivors, Zacariah Zubeidi, now amongst the IDF's most wanted terrorists and covers the seige of Jenin from the perspective of the Palestinians. The result of this work was the heartbreaking and emotionally honest documentary Arna's Children.

The documentary caused a major controversy, but also attracted worldwide attention and praise. Using the visibility and financial success of the documentary, Juliano made a permanent return to Jenin and opened The Freedom Theatre, a continuation of his mother's work, in the hopes that a permanent arts community in Jenin would provide an alternative to the culture of violence and martyrdom that had plagued the Palestinian liberation movement.

In 2007, a film crew came to Jenin to visit the Freedom Theatre and interview one of Juliano's former students, the sole surviving boy from the original theatre troupe in the 1980's: Zachariah Zubeidi, whose mother donated the first space where Arna would produce her children's plays. Zachariah was now one of the most highly wanted terrorists in the occupied territories and a major figure in Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigades.

After the interview, Zachariah made a last minute decision to visit the Freedom Theatre. He had not set foot on a stage in nearly 16 years. At first he came to watch, but by the end of the rehearsal he had been invited onstage to work with the new generation of Palestinian actors. Performing in scenes depicting the occupation, these young artists once again channeled their anger and aggression through the medium of theatre as the original troupe of boys did years before.

After the rehearsal, Zachariah disappeared promptly, returning to his clandestine underground life. Juliano shared these words:

He never was a child... As human beings, if you give them meaning, something to live for, they're not going to become terrorists, they're not going to become violent, they're not genetically violent, they don't look for virgins in the sky...

As Zachariah says, 'I don't believe in guns. I don't believe the gun can free Palestine'. But I believe that culture, poems, songs, books can free Palestine. It's already freeing a lot of people.

Within the year, Zachariah publicaly renounced violence, gave up arms and accepted amnesty from the Israeli government. He became the co-director of the Freedom Theatre and serves in this role to this day. The one surviving son, the last of Arna's children.

Last week, Juliano Mer-Khamis was murdered in front of the Freedom Theatre.

The majority of the media coverage has focused on his death and the speculation regarding the motive for his murder. I have chosen instead to ask the question:

What power does theatre have to heal nations? Is it possible that the arts are worth more than entertainment? If the civil rights movement can look back at baseball and the life of Jackie Robinson as a turning point in the struggle for racial justice, why can't we use the arts in the same way for the causes of the future?

The rejectionists of the world are always attacking the arts. From Oliver Cromwell to Joseph Stalin, repression always starts with the control or destruction of our culture. The arts are vital to the lifeblood of a civilization, just as vital as technology and philosophy.

In the aftermath of the Boston Theatre Conference, we've talked about the need to make the case for the arts in America. The arts are not a frivolous expense that benefits the elite white liberal base, despite what many will say. The arts are an investment opportunity with an incredible potential for return.

Juliano Mer-Khamis saw what happened when the boys of the camp were denied their venue for artistic expression. He founded The Freedom Theatre to make sure the future generation of Palestinians would have a real choice between cultural struggle, and useless martyrdom.

In his own words:

"We believe that the third intifada, the coming intifada, should be cultural, with poetry, music, theatre, cameras and magazines"

The Freedom Theatre has said they will continue their operations in spite of the violence and threats they've received for their activities. I am donating ten dollars a month in solidarity from now on. Please consider making a donation to support this cause. Find out more about The Freedom Theatre.

Juliano's documentary, Arna's Children is available in it's entirety on youtube.

Solidarity and Love to all,

K

Erika Upholds her Resolution

2011-04-06T10:40:00.006-04:00

I couldn't sleep last night and two characters kept chasing their way through my brain. I had to get up and write down their dialogue before I could drift off to sleep. This morning I realized that I hadn't shared any writing with you in the blogosphere for awhile, and I promised to do that as my New Year's Resolution! A professor once told me that Harold Pinter started plays not by plot but by dialogue. He'd be sitting in the back of a cab and would hear two characters conversing with each other in his head and he had to get their story out. This is how his plays were born.

I'm no Harold Pinter, but here's a conversation that was running around my brain. I started this scene in January and I finished it last week. This started out as an ABCD exercise and evolved from there. You'll notice that the first letter of the first word of the first twenty-six lines create the alphabet. As usual, comments are always welcome. But be kind, I'm still a little rusty. :)

- EG

I Miss You

A Scene by Erika Geller

Lights up on a sparsely furnished, neat but dim living room. There is a picture window center stage and a fireplace against the wall stage left. It is early evening and we see the end of the daylight creeping through the curtains, which are slightly askew. The fireplace is immaculate, as it has not been used for a long time. Family photos decorate the walls and are propped against the mantle. A wedding photo of a beautiful young woman and a groom in full military dress is centered on the mantle. The family photos are out of date showing HANNAH, 10, and EVAN, 12, as much younger children. It is February, but the cards on the mantle are still up from Christmas. At rise, EVAN, dressed in pajamas made for a child much younger than him, runs into the room holding a photograph. HANNAH, still dressed in her school uniform, dashes in after him.

HANNAH. Alright, Evan, give it back!

EVAN. Back? S’not yours.

HANNAH. Come on. Mom said I could have it!

EVAN. Didn’t even. She c-c-c-can’t even say that. It’s not h-h-h-hers so she c-c-can’t even give it to you.

HANNAH. Evan! (Screams a little.) It was in her room. It’s hers. She gave it to me. Sorry she didn’t give it to you, but… But – you can’t just take it.

EVAN. Fine. Just wanna – (Thinks for a minute and puts the photo on the fireplace mantle. It is out of her reach.) Just wanna think, k? Keepin’ it there for safes.

HANNAH. God, you are so annoying. (Trying to reach for the photo.) So annoying. I’m gonna tell! Mom –

EVAN. Hey, stop it. Gonna get her mad if she c-c-c-omes down h-h-h… down here.

HANNAH. I’m gonna get her mad?

EVAN. Just trying to think.

HANNAH. Keep it up, Evan.

EVAN. Like you even would. Gonna be just as mad at you.

HANNAH. Mom knows you’re the instigator.

EVAN. Nuh uh!

HANNAH. Oh really?

EVAN. Puh-lease. You’re the instant – (Breathing quick and shallow.) Insta –

HANNAH. Question for you, Evan. How d’you expect to tell her about the (imitating him) insta, insta, IN-STA-GAY-SHUN if you can’t even say it.

EVAN. Really making me mad, H-H-Hannah!

HANNAH. Shut up!

EVAN. (Almost to himself.) I miss Dad.

HANNAH. Well, he’s not coming back, Evan.

EVAN. Yes he is. He promised.

HANNAH. Stupid.

EVAN looks at her. He is confused. Unsure of his next move.

HANNAH. This is why he’s gone, Evan! Because you’re too stupid.

EVAN. (Beginning to shake.) Take it back!

HANNAH. Understand that, Evan? Can you even say it? It’s your –

EVAN. Very mean, H-H-Hannah. Take it back! Ugh. (He starts to moan, grunt, and move back and forth.)

HANNAH. What? Take what back? It’s your fault!

EVAN. X-Ray vision! X-Ray vision! Kew, kew! You’re lying!

HANNAH. You’re crazy…

EVAN. (Simultaneously) Kew, kew!

HANNAH. Stop it.

EVAN. Zero gravity. Kew, kew. X-ray robot vision. Target intercepted.

HANNAH. Are you okay?

EVAN. Bringin’ ‘er down.

HANNAH. Calm down, Evan.

EVAN. Down, Evan, down.

HANNAH. Either you calm down or I call Mom.

EVAN. Final target. Beep, beep, beep!

HANNAH. Geez. I didn’t mean it, Evan. I didn’t mean it. Just calm down. Please calm down. C’mon –

EVAN. Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!

EVAN runs at her full force. They fight. Various yells, “ouches” and “calm downs” and “get off mes” are heard. After several moments, EVAN pushes HANNAH backwards. She hits the mantle, hard, and falls to the floor. The picture falls, or has already fallen, to the ground next to her. HANNAH lies motionless on the ground. EVAN snaps out of his trance as he realizes that she may actually be hurt.

EVAN. Hannah?

He kneels next to her and touches her gently, apprehensively.

EVAN. I didn’t mean to h-h-h-hurt. Just meant to… don’t know. Ha-Ha-Han-Han. Ah.

HANNAH whimpers slightly from her spot on the ground.

EVAN. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry to h-hurt. Sorry ‘bout Daddy. H-H-Hannah?

HANNAH. Help me.

EVAN. Mom!

HANNAH. Shh. Just help me up.

EVAN. H-Hannah?

HANNAH. Listen, Evan –

EVAN. Mom!

HANNAH. No. Wait. Evan.

EVAN. Out. I don’t wanna. C-c-can’t –

HANNAH. Evan. Evan, look at me. I’m okay. Shh. Help me sit.

EVAN helps her to sitting position against the fireplace.

HANNAH. See? I’m okay.

EVAN keeps shaking his head back and forth.

EVAN. Not okay. Not okay. Malfunction. C-c-casualty.

HANNAH. No casualties, Major Evan. Injury count at one but she’s expected to make a full recovery.

EVAN. Over and out?

HANNAH. Over and out.

She smiles and reaches for EVAN’S hand.

EVAN. Sorry.

HANNAH. Me too.

They sit in silence for a few moments. EVAN picks up the photograph.

EVAN. When’s he c-coming back?

HANNAH. I don’t know. Soon. I think.

EVAN. Mom won’t say.

HANNAH. That’s ‘cause she’s sad.

EVAN. Are you sad?

HANNAH. Yes. (Pause.) Are you?

EVAN. C-c-can’t tell.

HANNAH. Tell me what you know.

EVAN. It h-h-hurts.

HANNAH. Where?

EVAN touches his hand to his heart.

HANNAH. Do you remember what the teacher said?

EVAN shrugs.

HANNAH. About being sad or mad or angry or –

EVAN starts to breathe harder and get physically frustrated.

HANNAH. Ev, it’s okay. Forget about the teacher. Um, remember last Saturday when Mom took us for ice cream?

EVAN. I got mint c-chip.

HANNAH. Yeah, yeah you did. We went for ice cream and mom was wearing a blue dress and you got mint chip and you smiled. Why did you smile?

EVAN. Mint chip is my favorite!

HANNAH. Right. And mint chip makes you smile because you’re happy. I was happy too, Evan.

EVAN. Because you got strawberry?

HANNAH. Kinda. But also ‘cause I was with you and Mom and we were having fun. And being with you guys makes me happy. And happy makes me smile. And it makes you smile too. But, what you feel right now, is the opposite of smiling. When happy goes away, that’s sad. Sad is what you feel when your heart hurts. And sometimes when your heart hurts, you cry and that’s the opposite of smiling too.

EVAN. I don’t like it.

HANNAH. Me either, Evan. But I guess we can’t be happy all the time. Just sometimes.

EVAN. Like taking turns?

HANNAH. (Laughs.) A little like taking turns, yeah.

EVAN. Why does it h-hurt?

HANNAH. Because…

EVAN. Doesn’t feel like this when Dad’s home. Why does it h-hurt? H-h-have no c-cuts. No bruises.

HANNAH. You can hurt inside too. Like, how sometimes you know you’re going to start crying because your throat hurts?

EVAN. Yeah…

HANNAH. It’s because your heart starts to cry before your eyes do.

EVAN. And that’s h-how you know you’re sad?

HANNAH. That’s how I know I’m sad.

EVAN. (Takes him a minute to start speaking but he gets a hard “H” out.) Hannah?

HANNAH. Yeah?

EVAN. My throat hurts real bad.

He leans against her. She winces slightly but manages to put an arm around him.

HANNAH. Mine too, Evan. Mine too.

Lights.

Self-Evaluation Paper #2

2011-04-03T23:46:00.002-04:00

OK, so some of you may know that I am taking a stage combat class at Tufts this semester. It's a catch-all crash course for undergrads so they have a basic knowledge of stage safety and how to handle choreography. It's a class that was offered as an elective in my program at UConn (go Huskies!!!!) but I opted out of it so I could work. Most of my classmates took it and it always looked like a lot of fun. And the skills are definitely useful.

Throughout the semester I've found it interesting in what ways I've enjoyed the class and the things I don't like about it so much. I like being in a learning environment again, although I would have liked to put choreography in context sooner (we're just starting scene work now) even if it was with simply 5 line open scenes. And I like the movement part of the class. When I started my Acting degree there's no doubt that I thought movement training was a bunch of bullshit and sort of didn't take it seriously. Later in my degree Suzuki (a Japanese actor training method based in extremely stylized movement patterns) would change me as an actor and put movement at the forefront of my acting process.

Funny how things turn around like that, huh?

Anyway, getting back in to movement with stage combat has been really important to me. It's given me a renewed sense of how to use my body in space and how my body relates to the other bodies on stage. What that means to an audience. And how much it can impact the message of the text. So that has been highly positive. I've also learned that I work better within structured movement systems than I do with simply creating my own movements. Case in point - on the one day we worked with swords, I was instantly at ease, comfortable, and moving quickly through the basic principles because of the rules and structure of it. With fake Aikido, however, which is a lot of flowing movement, I was a mess.

It has been hard to work with undergrads. Not because the kids in class don't get it, or because I think I'm better than them, but simply because we are in such different places and have such different expectations and goals and requirements upon us, that connecting on a genuine acting level can be difficult. And when you can't find that connection, trusting a partner who's aiming a fist at your face is difficult. It's not that I don't trust them, but I feel this barrier of them not trusting me. They don't know me, I'm not part of their circle or social life, and so much of theater and classes in college is knowing people outside of class and trusting who they are as people. I remember that anxiety when outside actors would come work with us, until we felt like they were our buddies, the relationship was strained. And so I'm having trouble finding real connections with these students, which makes the learning curve a little harder on my end. I feel that I'm holding back a part of me because they're already a little discomfited at having a grown-up in the class.

A lot of this could be incorrect perception, I suppose. Some of my own insecurities or anxieties getting the better of me. But I remember college camaraderie and how much it impacted my ability to be open with my acting partners. It's something I've learned how to do on the professional level now, but it did take me some time. There was an adjustment period. And these students haven't had to have theirs yet. And that's just fine and perfectly appropriate. They shouldn't have to make that adjustment until after graduation...it's why they're in college! But it has been a little frustrating to feel that I'm not getting the absolute most out of an acting class. Because that's what I loved most about class was the relationships I built.

In a pursuit to bridge the gap (and perhaps get another shout out) our instructor, the multi-talented Meron Langsner (see Meron, it wasn't all for naught) told me (after I showed up to class with no self-evaluation paper in hand...due to life) I could "blog it". So I took him up on it.

It's probably a good thing I'm not getting graded for this class... ;-)

An Actor's Labor, Pt. II

2011-03-29T22:22:00.005-04:00

After my post on actor pay last month, a number of local artists approached me both online and in person to discuss their thoughts on the topic. The majority of opinions came from freelancers and producers, and in many cases individuals had background in both categories. In the end, everyone agrees that we were paid more/could pay actors more. However, there are some major obstacles standing in our way. Let's review some of the comments from last month's discussion:

...a company must be able to *afford* to pay them and still have enough budget left over for high production values. In order to afford artists/high production values, the company must attract a larger audience. In order to attract a larger audience, the company must produce *high quality work*--which, soon, may only come from paying artists.

Of my theatre-related income, more than 90% over the past year has come from teaching over performing and writing, and I generally operate under a small loss when I produce. The only way to end this cycle is if we increase the audience for theatre.

One of my New Years resolutions was to break out of the actor/slave mentality - not to hang a lampshade on a less than satisfactory experience without pay by saying, "Well, at least I'm acting."

As a producer myself, I know how ugly budgets can look. Even with high ticket prices, we find that ticket sales are not enough to cover the costs of producing our work. Non-profits supplement their budgets through donations, grants and sponsorships, and yet many younger companies aren't yet 501 (c)(3) or lack the scale of support to grow without cutting corners. I realize that this is a reality for many companies and that there is no one answer to solving these problems.

I completely agree that increasing our audiences is the best long term goal to alleviate the plight of actor pay. However, this is a long term goal that serves to strengthen theatre at large and does not specifically address actor pay.

What I would advocate is for local producers and freelancers alike to take a stand and address this problem directly. I recently met with a theatre artist with vast experience in other American cities, who was horrified that so many small theatres in Boston did not pay their actors. I've spoken with freelancers privately who have expressed private frustration at how rarely they were compensated for their labor and work.

In almost every conversation I've had, these freelancers said that if a company even offered a tiny, little stipend, they would feel much more respected as professionals and artists. I, for one, do not find this to be an unreasonable desire. However, many of these actors continue to work for free because they don't get asked how they feel.

Well, I'm asking you. How do you feel about dedicating 40-60 hours of your time over and over again without compensation?

I'm not saying that we should never work for free or go on strike. But we need to seriously evaluate when we do or do not work. I just did a show without pay because it was a brand new company with a minuscule budget. I'm also doing a show this summer for a weekly stipend. I was just offered a small gig for a director I'm friends with. I turned it down due to time concerns, but I would've done it as a pro bono favor.

Actors who are dedicated to making acting part of their full-time profession need to treat themselves as professional freelancers and decide what projects are worth doing pro bono and when they need to ask for compensation or turn down a role. Have some balls!

Producers need to factor actor pay into their budgets according to their size and scale. Have a budget of 300 dollars and need three actors? Fair enough. But have a budget of $1,000 and need three actors? Surely, one can afford to pay $25 stipends to each artist for their 40-60+ hours of labor. That's less than 10% of the total budget. Some people might say that's too low. But I wager that the act of budgeting in compensation for the most underpaid members of the theatre community would be a giant mark of respect and mutually beneficial for all parties in the medium and long run.

As one of the comments said on my blog post last month, the time is coming when small theatres will have to pay their actors in order to maintain a steady level of professional growth. There is some debate over when that time is. I respect others who disagree with me, and I've never felt that any company or producer in this community was exploiting me or other actors. However, I feel strongly that the time has come.

The CoLab will be a part of this future. We are less than two years old. We have a tiny budget. We will be paying our actors small (and I do stress, small) stipends for our first full length production. We won't be able to pay actors for all of our shows and programming this year, and probably not next, but we will be factoring actor pay into the budgets of projects with higher production value. In the long term we hope to have an actor pay budget for all projects, large or small.

Think about this way: If this individual production can afford to spend hundreds of dollars on space, costume, props, etc, why can't we afford small stipends? It would be easy to save that money and put it towards production value, such as sets or other design elements. But instead, we choose to say to our actors:

We are young, but we are professionals and we are cut from the same clothe. As we grow, you will grow with us. We are all in this together.

Be well,
K

Humana and New Work

2011-03-29T15:28:00.014-04:00

When I begin to tell people about the Humana Festival of New American Plays I can't talk fast enough. Anticipation settles into my chest and stomach, and, more often than not, I begin sweating.

Full disclosure: I worked at Actors Theatre of Louisville for the last few years, and this will be my first year going back as an alumni. Though my excitement is amplified knowing I'm going to see friends who still work there, it is remarkable how many people I've contacted to who are not ATL Alumni to ask, "are you going back for Humana?" The sense of national community, the "Homecoming" that it represents, is incredible.

I have never been in a place where the playwright is so revered and engaged. In rehearsals leading up to the Festival you see playwrights dotting the halls. They're meeting with their dramaturg or director. They're printing new drafts. They're staring at the vending machines. Sometimes you can overhear conversations between directors and playwrights. There is a give and take that you don't get to see in other social circumstances. Opinions and impressions are freely expressed. Motives are questioned. With this amalgam of ideas the playwright may continue to mold their script until their story is told. A playwright's work is never finished. Even after opening night they may have new ideas for a revision.

You may know we're working on a new play called Dearly Beloved. We're taking steps to workshop this script because we have faith in it. We've worn opinions on our sleeves -- openly offered thoughts and thrown them away. Open discussions have informed the work we're doing, and I think you'll see the playwright's story coming through clearer than ever. We're going to be taking it to the next level in our staging a month from now, and I hope you'll join us.

Bringing a new play to life is exciting, and it is important for the world to know about it. This is why I think that the New Play Map (go find Dearly Beloved on there, I dare you) does an important job in making new work accessible. There can't be a Humana Festival for every play, but there can be a way to develop and foster the work that is going on in your area. Go see something new around New England this weekend. I can't wait to swap stories about what you saw!

Uncertainly Stable

2011-03-24T23:50:00.004-04:00

At this time last year I was in a full life shift mode. I was uncertain about my work, my personal life was all over the place, I started rehearsals for a new show that was the longest running and highest paid work I have done to date, and I was feeling like the whole world was at my finger tips. I didn't really know what the hell to do with said world, but I felt like I had it. And that was exciting. I wasn't entirely happy, but I had choices to make and goals to reach and things to pursue.

Since then things have settled out a lot. I have a full time 9-5 that I like a lot, I have solid friends and a relationship that is fulfilling and important to me, and I haven't had a gig in about a year (with the exception of play. last August), but I've been mostly happy about where I am. I feel comfortable.

But I find it boring. It isn't that any one thing is boring, it's just that without the excitement of uncertainty, I feel that I'm missing risk or adventure. It's the actor streak wrecking havoc on my type-A-ness. And it's not just about missing acting, but missing that part of me that rebels against the sensible, solid part of me and keeps me moving. I guess it's that I feel boring as opposed to my life is boring.

So I'd been searching for something to jump start that streak. A way to step out of my comfort zone or challenge myself or get excited about something.

And then two things happened.

1.) I was told about the Last Frontier Theatre Conference in Alaska, held at the beginning of every summer. It's a conference for new play development and they need 150 - 200 actors every year to participate as readers. You pay for your airfare and almost everything else is taken care of. Nothing is definite yet, but my Orbitz searches are at an all time high. The thought of 7 days in a place thousands of miles away where it never gets dark and reading plays for 12 hours a day sounded like exactly what I was looking for.

and then

2.) I had an audition. It had been a while. I'm out of practice. I'm out of material. And I almost had a panic attack. It was perhaps the most anxious I had ever been before an audition. And not in an exciting, "I want to get cast kind of way", but in a terrifying "I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm boring and awful" kind of way. And though I managed to pull the audition out and make myself presentable, it was definitely a low. It was the kind of feeling that made me wonder why I was still pursuing acting at all.

The two feelings were total opposites. And rolling around in my heart and my brain at the same time. I was excited at the prospect of a new kind of acting experience and some time away from my every day life, but I was also completely questioning how I wanted to continue my pursuit of performing.

And then I got cast.

I'm excited about the role. I like the script and the material will definitely push me outside the boundaries of my normal comfort zone. But there is still some lingering anxiety when it comes to how I'm pursuing performance and how I feel about myself as a performer.

That I can never be totally comfortable and still feel like I have interesting things to offer as an actor is a concern. Does my life have to be in flux for me to feel like I can perform? Is uncertainty what makes my life feel stable? And what kind of twisted mentality is that?

These are questions too big for me to answer right now. And maybe ever. But I know that I don't particularly like the person I was becoming searching for excitement. I also know I wasn't entirely happy living my easy day-to-day non performer life.

Which one will eventually win out has yet to be seen, but that $700 plane ticket to Alaska is still on my Orbitz radar and I'll be performing with the Boston Stage Company in iLove next month.

*ML

Chim, Chiminey, Chim, Chim, Cher-roo.

2011-03-22T18:03:00.004-04:00

It's been a long time since I've seen a big, no expense spared, epic show. Heck, its been a long time since I've even seen a musical. Most of the theatre I see is at a smaller venue, such as The Factory or Boston Playwrights and its usually straight plays. However, two Sundays ago I saw Broadway Across America's Mary Poppins at The Boston Opera House. (Side note: The Opera House is an insanely gorgeous building. INSANELY GORGEOUS. If you have the chance to go inside, I highly recommend it. But moving on.)

I forgot what it was like to see a show on that scale. I have not seen a production like that since 2009. (Ragtime at The Kennedy Center definitely put me in a different emotional spot, but I digress.) While walking to the theatre from the train, I was enthralled by all of the hair bows, tiny purses, and patent leather shoes on little girls, all dolled up and dragging their parents toward The Opera House. There were questions and giggles, and "hurry ups!" When I met up with my own pint-sized companions, they were just as fancy and just as giddy and their excitement made me smile even more. As we watched the show, however, one thing became apparent to me. I was enjoying the show, but I was enjoying watching the reactions of the children I was sitting next to and the ones around me even more. When they gasped as Mary Poppins pulled a floor lamp out of her bag, so did I. (Okay, maybe I was the one gasping, but it was pretty freaking cool.) When their eyes widened when the statues danced around the park, so did mine. When they "oohed" and "ahhed" at Mary Poppins as she flew over our heads, that was when I turned and looked at the little ones next to me and grinned.

I'm not one for musicals. I'm not even one for super-sized productions. I like to see intimate, real theatre. I like to see connection. I think this is because THAT'S the type of theatre that I'm interested in making. I don't think I could direct a musical. I definitely couldn't be in a musical. (Sometimes I'm jealous of you coordinated, in-tune folk.) HOWEVER, I enjoyed myself for the evening. I enjoyed being in a packed house of the next generation of theatre goers. I enjoyed seeing the show with my friend and her daughters. I know we here in the fringe life don't like to admit it, but big, sparkly productions are necessary to our survival as a medium. Just think, we were in a sold out house, if even 20% of those children remember enjoying Mary Poppins and audition for their community production this summer, and 10% percent of those go on to do theatre in college, and 5% go on to do it professionally, we're still engaging and educating our youth and propelling our craft forward. The next show I see definitely won't be at the Boston Opera House, but I'm looking forward to the next time I head to the theatre. And I'm looking forward to the future.

Modern Dance

2011-03-17T09:33:00.003-04:00

I've come to love modern dance, however I used to have an awful aversion to it. There were very few pieces that I liked. I didn't connect as an audience member and I didn't know why. Therein, I dismissed modern dance for a great while. I wasn't going to fake it and say, "that was amazing!" when I had no idea what I had just seen. I could certainly recognize the timing, strength, and skill of the dancers, but I couldn't find what compelled the choreographer to design the piece.

Last night I was exposed to a text for a performance piece. The playwright read the piece and I assume that it was at the tempo and rhythm she desired to perform at. Her four, double-spaced pages took nearly eighteen minutes to read, and mired in amongst those pages were vivid, dreamlike imagery as well as detached, intellectual phrases. And finally, after years of thinking, I discovered what made "good" modern dance (but not an absolute as the arts are subjective. (Yes, I just created a clause to my thought)).

It's the story. I will say that modern does not always necessitate a story or journey, but it was my biggest hang up.

Now, I've called it out before that I didn't get the story. However, for a long while I beat myself up for thinking I wasn't smart enough to get it. That it was too intellectual (A-HA!). That this performance style didn't have to have a story. That dance was an exploration of the body and an exposing of the mind, however tangential. That there must be some other value or component that I missed, right? I did the same thing with theatre. When something avant guard is on stage as a performance piece I at least want to see a story, or a theme, or a lens to look through at culture or society. I want to see something that is going to connect me as an audience member or at least take me on a brief journey. Heartless, soulless, selfish theatre is something that I do not want to see (or make).

That is also to say that in any performance I need to see the connection between body and emotion, and from that comes the intellectual. Read any of Chuck Mee's works and you will find a lens, a theme, and a story. While you will discover how disconnected his pieces may appear on the surface, I think you will find that there is a story to be had throughout (not to mention a theme and context). I will say that I have not read all of his works so perhaps there is an exception to my rant here.

All this musing is to say that I've been thinking a great deal about Beckett and Muller in juxtaposition to musicals and melodrama. How do we find connections in a disconnected script? And how do we ask the audience to come along? How far can we take them? This is what makes modern dance so human.

AUDITIONS POSTPONED!

2011-03-15T13:48:00.001-04:00

Please look for a StageSource posting and blog post about our rescheduled auditions for Dearly Beloved.

What to say?

2011-03-12T00:20:00.005-05:00

Holy cats.

So here I am in the CoLab portion of the blogosphere thanks to Kenny, Mary-Liz, and Erika. But what to write about?

I guess, what inspires me and what do I want to explore is a good place to start.

Being new to Boston it might be interesting to make comparisons to Minneapolis -- my old stomping grounds. The Fringe Festival, the lack of theatre space, the plethora of small theatres, the relationship of a major theatre to equity and non-equity actors...

Or I've been busting at the seems to talk with someone about process these days. About transitions and cheap magic, and how every time a director makes an assumption a props master loses her wings. About how understanding and utilizing the space will only enhance the story.

Or the business and the life of the new American play. How are we writing it; what is the zeitgeist we're writing in or the muse we're writing for; where is it taking place; how is it being funded?

Or maybe I should just say "thanks." Because, being a part of a theatre such as CoLab, which is dedicated to ensuring that the process of creating theatre is done the right way, is important to me. Like I said, I'm new here, and I appreciate being invited along for the ride. I look forward to making future observations and discoveries alongside CoLab.

So for now, I'll say just that. Thanks. Thanks Boston for being so inviting. Thanks KMLE for considering my brain for consideration. And thanks to you for reading. I'm looking forward to writing!

Mary-Liz vs. The Monologue

2011-03-10T21:28:00.002-05:00

Gosh do I hate finding new monologues.

Well I hate trying to find them.

When they magically happen upon me, because I hear them in a play or steal them from another actor (don't pretend you haven't done it) it's serendipity and usually works out pretty well. I find a printed version of said monologue, learn it, and put it in to action.

But as anyone proficient in auditioning knows, monologues get worn out after a while. You need to be refreshing your repertoire somewhat regularly to keep in audition material. Sometimes you outgrow a piece, or you've used it for every company in town and need to show them something different, or you just fall out of love with it. It happens.

But what happens when you find yourself in a monologue-less pit?

How do you recover?

Going on the search is a difficult thing. It requires you to think carefully about what type you are, what genre(s) you're looking for, how long it is, if you like it, if you see enough in the material to simultaneously be able to take risks and be super comfortable performing it. It's a difficult balancing act. And a lot of digging.

The thing that makes new monologues really hard for me though, is my innate tendency towards procrastination. Until I HAVE to have something new, I'm not working on anything new. It's a terrible terrible habit. In college we had to have new material fairly frequently so I was constantly updating my folder-o'-monologues. But at this point, most of those don't work for me, and it's time for some upgrading.

I'm not really sure where or how to begin. I have a stack of plays next to my bed. But I'm not really sure that any of them are there because they have monologue potential. They were more on my 'to read' list than anything. I haven't pinpointed what kinds of pieces I want to be working on. And honestly, it's been so long since I've been cast, I'm a little fuzzy on my type. Where I fit in. What I need to be working with. What I want to working with. From where I am now, I probably can't go wrong with much of anything, simply because it's new, and fresh, and different. Something to play with. But it can be hard to devote the time to all the reading and memorizing that goes in to a new audition piece.

But, I have an audition March 22. So I guess I'd better get on it...

Eyes on the Prize, Words in the Air: Erika on The BTC '11

2011-03-08T11:22:00.012-05:00

Once upon a time, I was asked to blog for the Boston Theatre Conference 2011. I started writing the following statements:

“Why NOT Boston?”

“Boston theatre scene. Slow arts movement. Slow food movement. Progress. The next step.”

“I have this conversation at least one a month:

‘What do you do?’

‘I'm an actress.’

‘What are you doing here? Why aren't you in New York?’”

As you can see, I didn’t get very far. I didn’t have a really clear vision of what I wanted to write about because I didn’t have a clear vision of what the point of the conference was. Obviously, I knew that we were there to discuss the state of Boston Theatre and its future, but I didn’t know what I personally wanted to get out of the conference. As Kenny put it, “past [conferences] focused on our identity as a theatrical center, and this year I've noticed that we are at a turning point in that journey. We are a theatrical center.” After attending last Monday, however, I’m energized and stirred up about this “theatrical center” but I’m nervous. In her closing remarks, Julie Hennrikus reminded us that the conference is important, but continuing the conversation is more important.

And I couldn’t agree more. But how? We’re all so busy – many of us little guys (the fringier theatres, the smaller companies) work many jobs: 40 hours a week at a paying gig, 15+ hours at rehearsals, PLUS any additional hours we spend in meetings planning and producing our individual shows. That’s a lot of time and effort. And we want to make sure we’ll sustain for an extended period of time and not burn out. So how do we continue to share these ideas and have conversations? What do we do? Apparently, it’s as easy as One. Two. Three… 4.5.6. and 7.

I've got a clearer vision of what I want to say than when I was originally asked to blog. Thanks to my mother, a first grade teacher with a propensity for exploring new ideas when its comes to literacy, I've discovered a technique called Six Traits Plus One. She may be using it get her first graders to become better writers, but this lost actress is using it to organize her thoughts on The BTC 2011. Here we go.

1. IDEAS: We've obviously got 'em. And they were flying everywhere at the conference. But we've got to start small as a way to dream big. The ideas that stuck out to me as the most immediate are: selling local/Boston as way of keeping/expanding local audiences, cross-promotion (we already do it between the smaller companies, why can't different sized companies help promote each other?), conversations between larger, established organizations and fringe organizations, demystifying the rehearsal process by letting the audience in, and rebranding

2. ORGANIZATION: We're all busy. We've already established this. It's hard to promote your show sometimes when 55 hours of your week are already taken up by other things. So let's use each other. In my lunch breakout, we spoke about creating a pass that could be used at multiple shows in a season so that patrons can purchase a pass and see both a show at The Huntington and at The Factory. How? Email me at colabtheatre@gmail.com. I've got some ideas.

3. VOICE: We have a BOSTONIAN voice. Let's keep singing it out. We talked about how people support The Red Sox as their home town team. Why can't we rebrand theatre in much the same way? In Vaquero Playground's Bear Patrol the Boston references kept me rolling last weekend. Mill 6's T-Plays connected us through one universal annoyance - public transportation. 11:11's Her Red Umbrella told us a story about Harvard Students. Later this season, The Great Heathersby Heist gets its inspiration from the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum. Some companies are already selling Boston, it's definitely a good thing to keep working on.

4. WORD CHOICE: The idea that "going to theatre" scares people off as elitist, expensive, and boring kept coming up. Someone put it like this, "Shakespeare is hard and Our Town is boring." So let's change the language we use to market. One idea from the conference, non-theatre folk don't know what a staged/workshop reading is -- why not call it a tasting?

5. SENTENCE FLUENCY: Seriously, though, let's continue the conversation. I don't want to be talking about the same exact issues at the 2013 conference. You may have noticed that conversations between larger, established organizations and fringe organizations was in bold before. I believe so strongly that this is a MAJOR missing link. We have two different types of audiences. Let's talk about melding them.

6. CONVENTIONS: We all have ideas on traditional theatrical conventions, but if audience size is decreasing, we might have to shake it up a bit. Workshops, family involvement, open rehearsals, found spaces. These are all great ideas. Let's keep brainstorming.

PLUS 1. PRESENTATION: We all know about presentation. Putting on a show. From the sounds of things, we all want to keep doing this. I'm looking forward to seeing some changes, however small, in the next few months in Boston. I believe in this place as a cultural hub, and so do you. Let's keep cultivating.

These are my thoughts. Hopefully something here caught your eye. Let's talk. Email me at colabtheatre@gmail.com. We'll converse. And collaborate.

- Erika

...the kindness of strangers

2011-03-06T22:01:00.004-05:00

Fund-raising is every theatre company's biggest dilemma. From a small fringe company to a multi-million dollar organization, soliciting donations and raising money is always a challenge. There are lots of reasons for this, to name just a few: a.) it can be uncomfortable to ask people for money, it takes a lot of time for the average person to warm up to simply asking for money from others b.) every fund-raiser has been done to death and c.) an unpredictable economy leads to unpredictable donors.

These are the things we've been coming up against in the last few months as we start our production plan for Dearly Beloved. But not only because we have a production budget that is currently 300% more than the small operating capital we currently have, but because our goal is to not only produce the show but also boost our capital. It's definitely a tough road.

But we're not in it alone!

Yesterday we began production on a new (and as of yet, super top secret...) fund-raising campaign and needed a little help. We enlisted a friend but were definitely in need of another person for support. So our friend enlisted his friend...who had no idea who we were, what we did, or what he was getting in to, but was just ready to help. And help he did. Honestly, the first phase of the project would have been impossible without him. How awesome is that?!

But wait, it gets better.

He's not the only one. Most people who bought our cupcakes or sodas didn't know who we were, people we met at the Boston Theatre Conference and offered help and ideas, and even members of our social network community, helping to spread the word about us are strangers or near strangers. People we don't know on a personal level. And they are willing to pitch in, and give us a little bit of their time, or their ideas, and in some cases their cold hard cash, just to help us succeed.

So yeah, fund-raising is hard. It can feel like a pressure cooker, trying to make money for your company. But most people like the idea that they've helped or contributed to something they find interesting or valuable. So for us, the best thing to do is stay true to our mission, pitch our passion to anyone willing to listen, and rely on the kindness of strangers.

Cupcakes and snacks and drinks, OH MY!

2011-03-04T09:49:00.002-05:00

The CoLab is having a Bake-Sale!

Come Support the CoLab by buying concessions and home baked goods at this Friday's performances of Vaquero Playground' s Bear Patrol!

Support two companies at one performance. Come see Bear Patrol at the Boston Playwrights Theatre at 7:30pm & 10:00pm and support the CoLab by buying drinks, snacks, and home baked-goods before and after the show!

About the show!

Bear Patrol
By: John J. King
Directed by: Barlow Adamson

Huggy Bear wants to be the first post-apocalyptic rock star. Can she make it Somewhere Over the Rainbow, thru the Purple Rain, Purple Rain, to defeat theWretched Rex of the Rox and set Crimson City free? Watch and dance on down the road with her as Monkey Bear supplies the beats,Emphysema Bear bleats, and Huggy Bear Tweets her way to rock legend status in BEAR PATROL, a Boston-set, pop-culture mash-up adaptation of the Wizard of Oz. A fairy tale about a truly Nuclear family.

Forget Lions and Tigers...You're on Bear Patrol!

CLICK HERE for TICKETS!

March 3 - 20, 2011

March 4, 2011 7:30pm & 10:00pm CoLab Bake-Sale!

$8 or Less
General Admission

Boston Playwright's Theatre
949 Commonwealth Ave
Boston, MA

The Boston Theatre Conference From Kenny's Perspective

2011-03-02T13:55:00.002-05:00

The CoLab was out in force this past weekend at The Boston Theatre Conference. There was much on the table, and the report will spell out the summary for all of us to read in the coming months. But I wanted to check in and talk about my expectations and what I got out of this event.

I've read the previous BTC reports in detail and must admit that I wasn't entirely sure what this particular conference would address. Past events focused on our identity as a theatrical center, and this year I've noticed that we are at a turning point in that journey. We are a theatrical center. There is no longer any doubt about that. The question is, how will we define ourselves? These are critical years that we won't get back. The time to act is now.

I said I would discuss the topic of actor pay this week, but I'm going to have to put that topic on the burner until my next post. Instead, let's talk about the economics of growth and sustainability. I met many different artists and producers, and one of the common themes was that of cooperation. Some might think it strange that in a time when people are hurting economically, that we'd try work with each other instead of against each other. But let's take an economists look at this.

Remember Mercantilism? It's okay, I graduated with a history degree and even I had to look it up. Mercantilism is the term used to describe the economic theories that dominated the western world before the rise of classical liberalism and modern economics. It was believed that the acquisition and spending of capital was a zero sum game. IE, when you spend, you lose. When you sell, you win. Therefore, you have to export more than you import. If someone else is better at something than you, you're screwed.

Classical Liberalism determined economics is not a zero sum game and that the gains by another do not necessarily turn into one's loss. Without getting into complicated terminology, exchange and cooperation can generate capital that would otherwise never exist. We can increase the size of the pie, rather than eat the whole thing.

I spoil the ending for you, but technology and culture sped the hell up as liberalism and liberty spread throughout the world. To this day, we still celebrate these ideals, whether liberal, moderate or conservative (or Libertarian Socialist...)

So why the history lesson? Because while I'm no cheerleader, I do believe that artists must be economists. We must be historians. We must be entrepreneurs. We have to stop being perpetual freelancers, and work in tandem with each other and create networks and INVEST capital of all kinds into our own future. Especially at a time when our opportunities for funding (government and private charities are in trouble these days) are shrinking, it's about damned time we start thinking about creating new business ventures and partnerships.

The Boston Theatre Conference gave me a great deal of hope that we're not the only ones who think this way.

K

Foodies and Alcoholics Rejoice! Gelology!

2011-02-27T20:35:00.000-05:00

A few mondays ago, I performed in a fundraiser produced by Fort Point Theatre Channel. In addition to being paid a sweet stipend, there was also free food and free drinks. Normally, the actor's life is hard... but sometimes, things go really well. And sometimes... you discover a brilliant idea that you wish you'd thought of first...

Gelology: "Hello all. I am the resident Gelologist. No, not a GEOLogist, but a GELologist. I love to create gourmet gelatin shots and share my disco..."

He has a blog on this brilliant passion. I sampled many of the shots themselves, and I declared that night that I would spread the word on The CoLab blog! The blog offers recipes, photos and even a brief FAQ with important tips, including how to make Kosher gello shots!

I'm pretty sure these were cooled in a nuclear reactor just outside of Tehran.

Nature's candy, in my humble opinion!

Check out the blog! Be creative!

K

An Actor's Labor

2011-02-22T07:52:00.002-05:00

For the past few years, it seems there has been much talk of “The emerging Boston theatre scene!” In the months leading up to the upcoming Boston theatre conference, there have been many musings and much lauding of what we’ve accomplish. The community, the growth, these are all great accomplishments. Small theatres are growing, increasing their budgets, and expanding their programming. But how much can we let these budgets grow before we factor in the labor of our actors?

In a previous post, we talked about one of the tenants of “Laissez-faire” economics as it pertains to theatre: That our labor is worth what we’re willing to do it for. Minimum wage laws and collective bargaining aside, each job and industry seems to have its own evolving standards of what labor becomes worth. You probably won’t find a hedge fund manager willing to work for 30k a year. You’ll find plenty of service workers and “unskilled” laborers who dream of that same amount, but work for barely above poverty level. (For the curious, a standard 40 hour work week at the federal minimum wage comes out to just below 16k, only about 5k above the poverty level).

Now here’s a question: How many of you consider yourselves professional theatre artists? Freelancers? Or even just an actor who likes to make side money?

How often do you get paid for your work?

Like many artists, the actor finds his or herself willing to work for free more times than not. This is true of many markets. However, one of the great appeals of the L.A. and New York markets is the larger number of available paid gigs. Granted, the odds are still stacked against you and often times you’ll be working for peanuts. But wouldn’t that be an improvement? I preferred salted, but I’m not picky…

My labor is worth more than nothing. Of course, we don’t act because we week wealth. If that’s why you’re in this business, you’re barking up the wrong tree. But as professionals, as people, as members of a productive and capital driven society… What is the incentive to work for free forever?

In past years, we’ve discussed the rise in Boston’s artistic scope and growth of opportunities. However, when actors come to Boston from New York… Many feel they’ve taken a step backwards and are dumbfounded by how rarely we pay our actors. I think that this one of the major challenges facing our community in the coming years. We must create a sustainable local theatre economy where we value our labor and encourage our best and most talented to work hard. How do we do this? By being competitive and creating sustainable business plans to start paying our actors in the next few years. Of course, not all companies can start paying from day one. But we have to be proactive and make those decisions when our companies can afford it.

Paying our actors, is an investment. Even the smallest of investments can yield large returns. And the most brilliant of business models don’t invest expecting a return in one year. They invest expecting returns in 5 or 10 years. And that idea should start at any level where producers expect professionalism and dedication from their performers. So as a small company investing in a future as part of the Boston arts scene, actor pay is something we are already working into our production budgets. As our local talent develops, and others look to Boston as a possible destination to practice their talents, we need to be proactive in creating a sustainable functioning labor market in order to continue our march towards the forefront of the American theatre.

A great man once wrote “With great power, comes great responsibility.” If I’m not mistaken, they turned his book into a musical recently…

Food For Thought

2011-02-19T16:21:00.009-05:00

Size.

If you're in the industry, it's on your radar.

But why?

Size is something I consider a lot when I'm headed towards an audition. I'm not the skinniest girl in the world, but I'm not that large either. I work hard to stay in shape and maintain my figure as best I can, but I also work 40 hours a week in a restaurant. I don't eat specialty meals prepared by a hired chef to keep me at a size zero for the red carpet. If I work too many doubles in a row, an extra hour of sleep often takes precedent over an extra hour of gym time. And that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

The New York Times published an article this week about actresses and documented instances of public eating or DIPEs. The article discussed America's obsession with wanting to hear about skinny actresses eating high calorie foods. The article suggested several conclusions: Men want to hear about women eating because it's sexy. Women want to hear about it makes famous actresses seem just like them!

But they never touched on the fact that maybe, just maybe, we want to hear about actresses eating burgers and fries because it helps to create an illusion. In this era where we're obsessed with obesity, we look at a glamorous woman with a basket of fried chicken in her hand and we think, "Well, she's skinny and she eats that so I'll be okay if I do so as well." And that's just not true. Everybody's body is different. I'm sure some of those women can eat what they want and stay thin, but they STILL work hard to be fit and toned. As someone who spent the last month getting out of shape and has spent the last week realizing how hard it is to get back into it, it's a lifestyle. It's a mental decision to say, "I'm going to cook healthy and skip dessert some nights and cut down on the drinking. I'm going to work out six days a week, even if it's just for 30 minutes on the elliptical." And knowing how hard it to get into and stay in shape made me a little angry. These women work hard to look the way they do, so why should they have to pretend that they don't? And isn't that sending the wrong message to America, especially to young girls who look up to celebrity figures? Exercise and diet is the key to a healthy lifestyle. And honestly, having a piece of chocolate cake (and I LOVE chocolate cake) every once and a while is way more satisfying that bingeing on it every evening, wouldn't you agree?

The article ends with this quote from former Jezebel editor Anna Holmes, “We would all appreciate it if you had an interview with an actress who says: ‘You know what? It’s my job to be a certain size, and it takes a lot of work for me to do so. I tend to eat very healthy, small portions, but once in a while I splurge,’ I would like to hear that. That it’s not easy.” I agree. Which is probably why I subscribe to SELF and not Cosmo, but the size of the problem continues to stand out to me. I tend to discuss this a lot with people, especially because I used to be hyperaware of my size next to other actresses. Now, although I'm still aware of it, I realize that my size is my size and I can only take care of myself to the best of my ability. I look the way I look, and when that look is right for the part, that's when I'll be called in.

So, I guess my point is this, I'm not a famous actress. (Yet.) I don't have an on-call personal chef or trainer. But I'm keepin' on keepin' on in this body I've got in this business I can't live without. And while I'll discuss the size issue, I'll continue to wonder, why it's more important to know that Jennifer Lawrence always orders eggs benedict when she goes out for breakfast than what it feels like to get an Oscar nod at 20 years old. But, maybe that's just me. Plus, if you wanted to see a good looking girl enjoying a not-so-healthy dish, all you had to do was ask!

A Song to Pass the Time

2011-02-14T22:04:00.003-05:00

I had begun writing an entry yesterday morning, shortly before heading off to rehearsal for a reading I did tonight. I came back last night and reviewed what I'd written and decided it simply wasn't appropriate for this blog. I'm not sure if it was really about Valentine's Day, or some silliness like that. But here I am on the day and now I feel compelled to do something productive. To write about the post I never posted. Meta, right?

I never really cared for Valentine's Day. It's funny, I realized that this marks two Valentine's Days in a row where I played a sexual deviant. I have a few types of roles I will often play. But I do find that these days I find myself longing for a place to be myself. I'm not saying that I'm not honest with my relationships with people, but I find that there are really only a small number of people out there I can be completely unguarded around. You know those people with whom you can literally say nothing at all and it's all okay? Yeah.

I've never been one of those "I hate Valentine's Day" types. I've also never really been known for being particularly romantic of Valentine's Day. The exception being February 14th 2006, when I made a totally awesome mix CD for my then girlfriend...

I've grown up alot since my emo rocker poet days. I find what I long now is no longer a feeling of validation. I don't want a girlfriend right now, to be honest. Frankly, I've enjoyed my "rock star phase" these past three years.

The things on my mind are a little more complicated than "I want love" or "I want to be free". What I want is for something to make me want things I never knew I wanted...

Did that make any sense at all?

The CoLab is giving me direction right now. For my career. I have a direction, career wise. As a young man, I'm still a little lost.

I put everything on the line last year. I won't go into details, but I was very close to "running off and joining the circus." Except replace "joining the circus" with "grow up and settle down."

It didn't happen. And I suppose that's not a bad thing.

So in conclusion, I guess what I'm trying to say about Valentine's Day this year is this:

Why should I go about looking for someone I love when I thought I'd already found her?

I'll let Mr. Oberst do the singing for me.

The Business of Laughing At and Laughing With

2011-02-09T10:33:00.005-05:00

I recently returned home from an EPIC West Coast trip which included fabulous company, weather, sightseeing, food, and (of course) vacation! The traveling itself was less fabulous due to the relentless East Coast weather - I dealt with three sets of cancelled flights. In fact, last Tuesday morning I left the house at 3:30 a.m., flew from San Francisco to Phoenix only to return to SF by noon due to Logan's snow situation.

(This is me flying in and out of Phoenix twice in three days - see me? I have a window seat!)

But, I digress. Due to some luck and connections we landed tickets to two different performances of a San Fran tradition, Sketchfest. Sketchfest is an event celebrating its 10th anniversary as a showcase of known and unknown comics. From its humble yet hilarious beginnings, Sketchfest currently stands at the top of the hill when it comes to comedy festivals on the west coast. (That's a SF roadways joke - laugh. Good. Moving on.) On Friday night, I attended a night called Tig Has Friends featuring the talents of The Sklar Brothers and Zach Galifinakis, among others. Each act was wildly different but one thing was the same - each was putting a piece of their lives out in the open for the amusement of a room full of strangers. And a thought struck me - how incredibly brave.

As actors, we put ourselves out there as other personalities. Now granted, each comedian has his or her own stand-up persona that varies from an offstage alter ego. However, a number of the stories told were about things that actually happened to them. Some of it is funny because of its irony, and some of it is funny due to awkwardness of embarrassing situations, there is still another category of current and/or celebrity events (but you've all seen stand-up before, so I'll stop listing categories now). :) All of it, however, takes courage and humility. As actors, we enjoy getting laughed at AS SOMEONE ELSE but it takes a whole different type of courage to go onstage as yourself. A scripted courage, and I for one, have a new found respect for "the comedian." If you want to check out some of what I saw you can check out the SklarBro Country Podcast HERE.

(As you may have noticed, that wasn't actually me in the jet before. Check me out actually taking in the sights of SF.)

That Old College Enthusiasm

2011-01-26T23:19:00.003-05:00

Parties, rehearsals, studio acting classes, drama history classes, movement classes, run-crew assignments, the drama library, parties, rehearsals, parties, shows, parties.

That was college for me.

I loved it.

But I'm not sorry to not be doing it anymore.

With that said, I've had a lot of reminders lately of what enthusiasm being an undergrad involved in theatre can bring.

I'm taking a Stage Combat class at Tufts this semester (hey it's a job perk, and it's being taught by local fight guy Meron Langsner...so win/win) with 7 undergraduate theatre people. Not all of them are majors, but they've all been involved in productions at Tufts, and they all want to continue pursuing theatre in some way when they graduate. And they just seem SO excited to be in class. They are excited to learn things that will help them on stage, to work with their friends, to just be in class being taught about something they're passionate about. It's an odd thing when you've been away from it for a long period of time, to accept as part of your life again. And it's going to be a tough adjustment: writing a few papers, working with a scene partner, dashing from my office to class...pushups. I mean, I had really put behind me what it meant to take a theatre class. And I don't mean an acting class. That I remember well, and I've done some workshops since graduating, but this class is a different thing. It's about making myself ready to learn not only from my teacher, but also from my classmates, and being happy to add something new to my skill set.

I also went to see a production put up by BU students (or recently graduated alums...I couldn't tell) at Club Oberon. It was a Beatles/Bacchae mash-up set for the club atmosphere. And you know what...it mostly worked. The script had some problems, and there was definitely a fly-by- the-seat-of-your-pants kind of atmosphere...but those kids had charisma, and talent, and just this live-wire energy that made you want to be there. They created this thing from scratch and found the perfect space for it and a good crowd to come out on a Sunday and just PERFORMED for everyone like nothing else mattered in the world. It was just fun to be around, and it sparked that thing in me that made me remember why I chose to go to college for Acting and why I'm still putting myself out there now.

Like I said, since graduating I haven't been at all sorry to be out of college. I am making a life I like for myself and I'm making my own rules on how to be in theatre, but I definitely lost hold of all of the fresh, excited energy I had about myself and myself as a student and potential professional in theatre, and I think that's made it harder for me to accept the things I don't like about the business, or the hard times I find being in the real world. And I'm glad to have the reminders.

So for now, I'm taking a step back into that mindset. The open, excited, do it because you love it mind set that you have to have to make it through 4 (or 5 or 8) years of college theatre. Because it's a way to have fun, take risks, be challenged, and be myself, and what more can you ask for when you make theatre your living?

Stuff Theatre People Like: Cultivating Playwrights

2011-01-21T17:08:00.005-05:00

Calling All Playwrights!!

BerkshireFringe, which takes place every summer in Great Barrington, MA sent out this statement earlier this month - they are looking to cultivate aspiring, young playwrights? Think you'd like to apply? Check out the info below:

EarlyStages, Bazaar Productions' playwriting program is now accepting applications from all over New England. Any one between the ages of 18 and 26 that resides or attends school in New England is eligible for the program.

About the Program

EarlyStages takes place each summer during The Berkshire Fringe. The program gives three college-aged writers the opportunity to develop an original play under the mentorship of a professional playwright. Once again, Emmy Award-winning writer Laura Maria Censabella will participate as the professional playwright mentor. The program culminates with a professional reading of the young writers' work at The Berkshire Fringe.

Participants must:

• Be between the ages of 18 and 26.

• Reside in or attend school in New England (Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island or Vermont).

APPLICATIONS ARE DUE MARCH 15, 2011.

Interested applicants are required to submit at least 20 pages of the play they wish to continue to develop during the program. You will find the complete guidelines for submitting work, the application, and more information about Bazaar Productions and The Berkshire Fringe on our website:

http://berkshirefringe.org/earlystages

Have questions that this post doesn't answer? Send your queries to Co-Artistic Director of BerkshireFringe, Timothy Ryan Olsen at ryan@berkshirefringe.org.

Happy writings!

- EG

Sweet Success Continued...

2011-01-16T19:57:00.004-05:00

Thank you to everyone who supported The CoLab's first ever bake-sale campaign! With the money we raised we will be able to join StageSource, one of our biggest financial goals to date, and put some money away for expenses as we get started producing Dearly Beloved by Brendan Doris Pierce.

We wouldn't have been able to do it without the following people:
Noah Tobin, Sarah Farbo, Mikey DiLoreto, Stacy Fox, Barbara DiGiorlamo, Jake Scaltetro, Coriana Hunt-Schwartz, Lindsay Eagle, Christine Toohey...and many others.

Please support our sponsors!

Independent Drama Society
Glengarry Glen Ross
Now through January 22, 2011
Boston Center for the Arts, Plaza Black Box

11:11 Theatre Company
The Master Forger
January 28 - February 2, 2011
The Factory Theatre

Happy Medium Theatre Company
The Spitting Image
March 23 - April 2, 2011
The Factory Theatre

Flat Earth Theatre Company
The Underpants
April 1 - April 9, 2011

Thanks again to everyone who helped make this first fund-raising campaign a success.

Also, a shout out to Imaginary Beasts for a fun night in Salem with their 2011 Winter Panto Dracula: Re-Vamped. It's definitely worth the trip up with a fun show, a set of performers ready to play and have a good time, and an environment where shouting and heckling are encouraged. Go see it until January 30 at the Griffen Theatre, 7 Lynde Street, Salem MA.

Sweet Success

2011-01-14T14:25:00.002-05:00

Come help us finish up this round of our Bake-Sale fund raising campaign with Independent Drama Society's production of Glengarry Glen Ross! We'll be hocking cupcakes once again Saturday at 4pm at the Boston Center for the Arts.

About the show!

Glengarry Glen Ross
By: David Mamet
Directed by: Brett Marks

Examine the inner workings of a small real estate firm under a job-threatening sales contest. Drawing from current economic turmoil, the Independent Drama Society revives David Mamet's classic examination of working life and how a harsh economy drives good people to desperate action. Mamet's Tony Award-nominated and Pulitzer Prize-winning drama is one that the Washington Post claims "everyone should see."

January 14, 20, 21, & 22 @ 8pm
January 16 @ 3pm
January 15 @ 4pm - CoLab Bake-Sale

$23, $18 Students and Seniors
General Admission

Boston Center of the Arts
The Plaza Black Box Theatre
www.bcaonline.org

A Resolution To Love, A Resolution To Write

2011-01-13T01:55:00.001-05:00

I didn't make any resolutions this year. I figured, what would I resolve to do that I'm really willing to follow through with? As I started thinking about things I wanted to change, my mind wandered to think about the things I'm thankful for. I realized that I really don't want that much to change during 2011. Sure, this week I reorganized my entire bedroom, actually cooked dinner, and went to the gym a decent amount but it seems that I'm actually a pretty happy person. So as we move into 2011, I am resolving to thank my friends and family more often for their love and support. I resolve to have more dinner dates and play dates and lazy mornings with my roommates where we make banana pancakes and laugh together. As I thought about how happy my friends make me, I started to think about other things that make me happy.

I did a decent amount of writing in college, but I haven't done much in the last year and a half. It makes me happy and I really miss it. So I'm also resolving to write a scene a week. They might not be long. They might not even be good. But I'll take a prompt or an exercise, and just write. And then I'll post them on this blog. Sound good? Great. Here goes. I resolve to give you, dear readers, some fiction to read along with the opinion and the occasional fact. For my first feat, I've taken some song lyrics and incorporated them into the scene. I've been on a major Counting Crows kick lately so I figured, why not start there? I warn you. My pen (or my typing skillz as it were) is very out of shape. It's not deep, but it's what I've got. It's an homage to my friends that I love so dearly. So here we go. Without further ado, I give you...

A Long December

Lights up on the living room of an apartment. The space is well inhabited, and a tad messy. Newspapers and books are precariously stacked on the coffee table and floor. A calendar showing the month of December is nailed on the wall amid reproductions of famous paintings, some recognizable and some obscure. Twilight creeps in through curtains over a window up left. The rest of the room is pretty dark. The sound of a microwave whirring is heard off stage left. A cell phone rings on the coffee table. COURTNEY, 25, dressed in plaid pajamas bottoms, mismatched socks, and an oversized gray hoodie runs into the room. She grabs for the phone, reads the caller ID, and throws it into the couch, disappointed. COURTNEY exits to the kitchen again. The phone rings several more times, then stops. COURTNEY returns with a microwavable meal in hand. COURTNEY contemplates for a moment and then dials her voicemail, leaving it on speaker as she arranges her microwavable meal.

VOICEOVER: You have one new voice message; you have four saved voice messages. To listen to your messages, press one. (She presses one.) First voice message, received today at 9:21 p.m.

VOICEOVER: Ugh. I always forget how generic your voicemail is. Seriously, girl, you need to rerecord that shit. Anyways, it’s me. Todd. Your best friend. I just thought I’d remind your sweet little ass that I even effin exist since you seem to be ignoring all my calls.

COURTNEY glares at the phone.

TODD: I fully expect to see your face tonight.

COURTNEY: (To the phone) I’m busy.

TODD: Before you start in, you are not busy. You are sitting at home. In your pajamas, watching Gossip Girl reruns, and making a Lean Cuisine.

Glaring at the phone, she reaches for a can of breadcrumbs on the table and starts to pour them on top.

TODD: Putting breadcrumbs on that goddamned mac and cheese is not gonna make it taste real, honey. It’s just going to make it fattening fake cheese. Give it up. Get dressed. Get down here. I’m calling back if I don’t see you in twenty. Love you!

COURTNEY flops down on the couch next to the cell phone. She stares at it, sighs, and throws it at the can, knocking it off the table. The doorbell rings. COURTNEY hops up, hopeful. Tries to adjust her hair and her pajamas but realizes it’s a lost cause and goes to the door anyways. TODD, 25, well groomed in designer labels and a black pea coat enters with flair.

TODD: Honey, I’m home.

COURTNEY: (Retreating to the couch.) I thought I had twenty minutes.

TODD: Well, I was going to stand in your hallway for twenty minutes and wait for you to get dressed, but I thought it was trashy to drink this straight from the bottle. (He brandishes a bottle of champagne.)

COURTNEY: (Flopping down on the couch and shoveling her mac and cheese into her mouth defiantly.) Go away!

TODD: Oh, Boo, you are a mess.

COURTNEY: Not helping. Go away, Todd.

TODD: Don’t think so. You need to come out. Come see people. This place would make anyone depressed.

COURTNEY: I’m fine, okay? I’m not thrilled with the situation but I’m not depressed. I just need some time to get over it.

TODD: Your hair isn’t washed.

COURTNEY: Thanks, Mom.

TODD: You didn’t go to work today.

COURTNEY: How do you know that?

TODD stares at her smugly.

COURTNEY: (Starts to smile.) Oh my god. Benny?! I knew you two were going to hook up. I knew it! If you get married, I’m so your maid of honor.

TODD: Back it up, honey. The only thing he’s hooking me up with is information. About you.

COURTNEY: You make it sound like you’re James Bond or something. All you had to do is send one text.

TODD: Just looking out for you. Call me your fairy godmother.

COURTNEY: I’ll call you a fairy all right.

TODD: Ouch. That was harsh. Good thing I have my magic shields up or I would’ve been offended.

COURTNEY: I’m sorry, Todd. I’m sorry. I –

TODD: Baby, coming from you, I am so not offended.

COURTNEY: God, this is so screwed up.

TODD: It’s been a long December, kiddo.

COURTNEY: No kidding.

TODD: (Pause.) You wanna vent?

COURTNEY: Haven’t I done enough of that?

TODD: Eh, I don’t mind. I’m a little buzzed already. Here. (Hands her the bottle.) You start chatting. I’ll get the glasses. (Exits to the kitchen.)

COURTNEY: You really don’t have to do this. (She picks up her phone.)

TODD: (Offstage.) Put down your phone!

COURTNEY: Go back to your party.

TODD: (Entering with two champagne flutes.) Fairy godmother, remember? It’s my job to get your ready for the ball. Then I can get trashed and make bad decisions. (While she is talking, he pops the cork and pours two glasses. He sips from his but she leaves hers untouched on the table throughout.)

COURTNEY: Fine. What do you want from me? I’m miserable. I’m sitting home alone on New Year’s Eve.

TODD: Were sitting home alone. Now you’ve got a date. Get dressed. Everyone is expecting us.

COURTNEY: I can’t show my face at that party.

TODD: It’s the hair that I’m concerned with, not your face.

COURTNEY: Todd.

TODD: It’s fine. Grunge will probably be in again in 2011. You’re ahead of the curve. Continue.

COURTNEY: I got dumped!

TODD: We’ve all been dumped.

COURTNEY: Not like this. This is…

TODD: I know.

COURTNEY: I keep waiting for the apology call.

TODD: Stop.

COURTNEY: Stop obsessing because he’ll come to his senses or stop because he’s never going to call? (Pause.) I thought you were him. At the door before. I just thought, maybe… God, there were no romantic gestures while we were dating why would there be now? He’s not going to call, is he?

TODD: I don’t know, Boo. I’m not him. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.

COURTNEY: That’s encouraging.

TODD: You didn’t let me finish. Your hopes aren’t worth it. Hope on something good. Something special. Don’t hope on Adam.

COURTNEY: All I want is Adam.

TODD: Not what you need though. Okay, Court. It’s midnight somewhere.

COURTNEY: (Looking at her phone.) It’s 9:30.

TODD: It’s midnight thirty somewhere. Time for a resolution.

COURTNEY: Todd –

TODD: (Standing, holding his glass in his hand.) I, Courtney James –

COURTNEY: No.

TODD: I, Courtney James.

COURTNEY: I, Courtney James.

TODD: Resolve to live 2011 for me. Not for some boy, not even my fabo best friend, Todd Silver.

COURTNEY: Resolve to live 2011 for me. Even though I’m being fed these lines by my lamo best friend, Todd Silver.

TODD: Ugh. How long have we been friends?

COURTNEY: How long ago was third grade?

TODD: Exactly. We’ve seen a lot of breakups together. And we always get through them. After awhile we even laugh at them. Mostly mine, I’ll admit, but seriously how many of these do you think we’ve been through?

COURTNEY: Too many.

TODD: Remember my first broken heart?

COURTNEY: I don’t want to play this game. (She takes a sip of champagne.)

TODD: Lauren Engel. Fourth grade.

COURTNEY: She broke up with you because you told her stirrup pants were out. Little did we know, that was you coming out.

TODD: I was devastated! But, yes, that was a huge flashing, glittery sign right there. Too bad no one pointed it out to Lauren.

COURTNEY: (Laughing.) Whatever, I ran into her when I was home for Thanksgiving. Girl still can’t dress herself.

TODD: See. Sixteen years later and we’re still laughing. Darren Reynolds, eighth grade.

COURTNEY: Oh god. I still maintain that I broke up with him!

TODD: I will admit that you ran out of Seven Minutes in Heaven first, however, I vividly remember him telling Scottie whats-his-face to tell me to tell you that it was over!

COURTNEY: I had too much orange soda. Should have peed before I went in. He had Dorito breath anyways. Oh god. Remember Sam Langley?

TODD: Do I remember Sam Langley? Honey, we ate more pints of ice cream that week than ever before. This (he motions up and down at her current state) is nothing compared to Sam Langley.

COURTNEY: Ah! It was right before prom and I so almost didn’t fit into that dress afterwards.

TODD: Oh, shut up. We both looked fierce that night.

COURTNEY: And here we are, almost 2011. You’re still my date and I’m still a sobbing mess. We’ve just graduated from Ben and Jerry’s. (She raises her glass to him and drains it.)

TODD: No tears tonight.

COURTNEY: Should’ve shown up around four.

TODD: Good. We’ve gotten it out for the day. Now, you’ve got exactly seven minutes to find something shiny to wear before we head out for the night. Go. Move.

COURTNEY: Todd, I really appreciate the cheering up, but I’m really not in the mood. You won’t have any fun with me –

TODD: Court. We’ve been friends for more than half our lives. We’ve been through it all. Bad breakups. Your parents’ divorce. The two months my dad couldn’t sit at the same dinner table as me because I brought a boyfriend home from college. I don’t care about tonight. We can sit on this goddamned couch in your ugly sweatshirt and celebrate it together. I care about you and I hate seeing you like this. I love you too fucking much to let you be alone right now. And not because it’s New Year’s but because you’re hurting. But if tonight’s for starting fresh, I wanna start fresh together. Okay?

COURTNEY lunges at him for a bear hug before he can even get the last words out. They stay like this in silence for a few moments.

COURTNEY: I love you.

TODD: Love you back.

COURTNEY: Who would’ve thought the only man in my life to really love me doesn’t even like women?

TODD: To be fair, I like you. I just don’t want to do you.

COURTNEY: (Standing up.) Okay.

TODD: Okay?

COURTNEY: If you’re actually my fairy godmother, you’ll find something in that closet to dress me in for tonight. (TODD raises an eyebrow at her.) What? You love New Year’s Eve. I’m not going to let you harp on this for the next sixteen years as the night we sat on my couch and ate cold mac and cheese.

TODD: Fake mac and cheese.

COURTNEY: Go. 2011 is in two hours.

TODD: (Grabbing his champagne flute.) To 2011, may it bring us both new beginnings…

COURTNEY: Maybe this year will be better than the last.

TODD: I think it should.

They toast.

Blackout.

As American as Apple Pie

2011-01-07T09:49:00.004-05:00

Happy Friday, we are off to a busy start to the year here at the CoLab! Over the next three days we will be running 3 bake-sale fundraisers and workshopping the play that we hope will be our first full production!

But in order to get that production off the ground we are engaging the need to raise funds and using cookies to do it.Our second gracious Bake-Sale host this weekend is Flat Earth Theatre Company with their production of Edward Albee's classic The Goat or, Who is Sylvia?.

About the play:

The Goat

When Martin, a distinguished and successful architect, is forced to confess a sordid affair to his family, the consequences could have the power to destroy his ideal life, and the lives of his wife and teenage son. Martin is left to reflect on the very nature of love, and the outer limits of conventional morality, as he bears excruciating witness to the shattering of his world. From the acclaimed playwright whose other credits include Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and The Zoo Story, The Goat or, Who is Sylvia? paints an agonizing portrait of an American family on the brink of collapse, posing the question, "what does it truly mean to love?"

Directed by: Melissa Cogswell
Featuring: David Policar, Janet Ferreri, Erin Gilligan, and Bill Barnert

Tickets and Show Info:

January 7th, 8th, 13th, 14th, and 15th at 8 PM,
January 9th at 2 PM. - CoLab Bake-Sale!

All shows presented at the Arsenal Center for the Arts Black Box, 321 Arsenal Street, Watertown. Tickets are $15 if purchased in advance, $20 at the door. Students pay $10 at the door with valid ID. January 13th's performance with be "pay-what you-can" at the door. Purchase tickets online, or call (800) 838-3006.

Keep Calm and Have a Cupcake

2011-01-05T15:52:00.004-05:00

Happy new year, blogosphere! Who's ready to jump back in to theatre going?

This weekend we will be hosting 3 more bake-sale fundraisers at 2 fantastic shows.

Our first host is Happy Medium Theatre Com pany at The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds by Paul Zindel.

The old, converted vegetable shop where Tillie lives is more like a madhouse than a home. Tillie’s mother, Beatrice, is bitter and cruel, yet desperate for her daughters’ love. Her sister, Ruth, suffers epileptic fits and sneaks cigarettes every chance she gets. In the midst of chaos, Tillie struggles to keep her focus and dreams alive. Tillie–keeper of rabbits, dreamer of atoms, true believer in life, hope, and the effect of gamma rays on man-in-the-moon marigolds.

This is HMT's 2nd offering of the season, directed by Lizette Marie Morris (11:11's poe: a fever dream) featuring Caitlyn Conley, Kathryn Lynch, Cassandra Meyer, and Christina Malanga.
We will be selling home-baked goodies as well as concessions snacks and drinks at the 4pm matinee and 8pm evening performances on Saturday January 8!

Come support two theatre companies with one ticket and participate in our bake sale.

TICKET INFO:

Tickets can be purchased in advance at:

http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/139994
or in person at the box office!

Online Advance Pricing: Adults - $16.00 Students/Seniors - $14.00
Walk-up Pricing: Adults - $20.00 Students/Seniors - $17.00

CASH ONLY AT DOOR

The (Theatre) People Vs. Kindle Culture

2011-01-04T15:49:00.005-05:00

I took myself out to breakfast yesterday. As a single diner, I chose to sit at the counter of the restaurant, ordered some eggs and coffee, and took out a novel. As the waitress cleared my plate, she commented, "I'm impressed you're reading an actual book. Everyone in here has a Kindle. I'm not sure I've seen someone reading a real book in months." We briefly conversed on her's son's Christmas wish list of assorted electronics (she ended up get her 10 year old a phone that included the mp3 player, the phone, AND the video camera he wanted - problem solved) and the craziness of the world's dependence on electronic devices.

Now, I understand the convenience of the Kindle. If I'm George Clooney's character in Up in the Air, I'm absolutely going to own one of those babies. But, I'm not. And even if I was, I love to hold a book. I love flipping the pages, I love the smell, the weight, the feel, the nervousness I get when the cover gets dog eared. I love writing notes in the margins. I love placing it on my shelf when I've finished, ready to pick it up again when the mood strikes. Collecting books is a way of gauging my intellect, my journey through the world of literature, I display them as proudly as I display my writing awards from 3rd grade and my college diploma. (Plus, you can let someone borrow a a real book - how cool is that? Right!?) Which gets me to thinking, why are we moving away from actual, physical novels to the electronic kind? Is it that we find them inaccessible? Bulky? And what does that say about us? Most of us are NOT traveling so often that we can't pick up a paperback. Come on, people.

And if the Kindle is stomping all over print culture, is that the fate of the theatre? Will Blu Rays and blockbuster films eventually run us over? What is happening to us? Why can't we relate to things in person any more? What's wrong with books and live theatre? Like Kenny, I've been watching quite a lot of Slings and Arrows lately and a lot of the characters are battling the same thing - why do we find live theatre not accessible? Why can't we just watch people relate on stage? Theatre is not boring. It's beautiful. I'm not sure if this post has turned into a rant or drawn any conclusions, but these questions have been eating at me for the past 24 hours. And I've yet to find answers. I'm not really one for New Year's Resolutions but I'll say this, I pledge to keep asking these questions in hopes that the continued conversation will help me get some peace.

Oh, and of course, I won't be buying a Kindle in the next 361 days.

- E

The Hits and Misses of 2010

2010-12-31T16:44:00.004-05:00

As our readers know, we're not a typical theatre blog. We pride ourselves on being a little less polished and a little more honest. When we decided to write a end of the year reflection, we decided it would be imperative that we write honestly and express our true feelings, good and bad.

So with that, we give you our end of the year reflections and say to the theatre community (Both local and national):

What worked? What didn't? And what can we learn from this year's hits and misses to do even better this coming year?

Hits

Productions

Mill 6's T Plays - There is no shortage of 10 minute play festivals and competitions in Boston. After a certain point, it's really easy to phone these projects in and use the medium as a low investment cash cow. However, Mill 6 took the medium and spins it around in the way that only Boston could: Bitching about the T. This year's T plays were more solidly written and tightly directed than any other ten minute play festival I've seen from the scene yet. Special mention must go to the devastatingly sweet and sincere performance of Nate Gundy in John J. King's M. Riverside.

11:11's Her Red Umbrella - This show felt like a real underdog. It was a real romantic comedy, put up on stage, acted and directed really well. This is Robyn Linden's directorial breakout and the visual and atmospheric concepts she put together (with the help of a very good lighting designer and a local up and coming singer/songwriter) as well as the genuine performances she created with her cast made for a sweet and satisfying evening.

Acting

The ensemble of Bad Habit's Durang/Durang - They were tight, they were funny, and they had their timing down pat. They moved fluidly between different kinds of roles and had a really good knowledge both of the parody style necessary in the first act and the more absurd comedy designated in the second. It was a large ensemble cast that felt like a small tight knit group. It's a hard show to do really well, but this group of actors definitely got the job done.

Directing

Bevin O'Gara for Holland Productions' Melancholy Play - This is the only piece I've seen from Bevin, though being a small-time actor here in town, I'm familiar with her as the Artistic Associate at the Huntington (AKA the screener for their auditions....my Pirates audition definitely could have gone better). This play (and Sarah Ruhl in general) is hard to tackle. There are so many places where the surreal or absurd aspects of her stories can go horribly wrong. But Bevin had a clear mastery of the script, the cast, and the designers to create a happy-go-lucky world full of wistfulness and almonds. Everything was done with a light, whimiscal, but defined touch. The comedy was smart and sharp, the surrealness was light and loopy, and the melancholy was wonderfully palpable. Smart director.

"Wait, we have a theatre marathon? That sounds AWESOME!"

Many of us are familiar with existence of The Boston Theatre Marathon, a late spring charity event that brings together 50 New England theatre companies and playwrights. However, how many of you know that there are two days of plays? That's right, in addition to the full day of 50 ten minute plays, Boston Playwrights' Theatre also organizes three readings of full length plays, cast and directed by major players like The Huntington and performed at with the generosity of the BCA.

Did you also know that the event brings together artists from small companies and unknown playwrights together on a bill with internationally renown theatre artists like Robert Brustein and Israel Horovitz?

Chances are, many of you have performed in one of the plays. Or seen one of the events. If you are an actor in Boston, you know about the BTM. It's the closest thing we have to a Humana or a Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and it has been steadily growing in scale and scope over the past decade. I can only hope that the minds at be have lofty plans to keep this event growing over the next few years.

Now this is the part where you go tell someone outside of the artist community about it! They're the next step!

Misses

"It's not that we don't like you, we just think you could strive for more!"

Lyric Stage: Blah. That's what I think after I've seen a show there. Just, blah. I often find their season choices interesting. And I always applaud them for employing local actors only. No small feat for a company of their budget. They could easily rope in a couple of New York equities. (I also appreciate their $10 Student Rush Tickets) But something gets lost in the execution of their shows that leaves me bored and unsatisfied. I just get the feeling they have stagnated as a company. They have a solid subscriber and donor base; Artistic Director, Spiro Veludos, has been there for 12 years; and no one on marketing or management seems to be taking any risks. They always play it safe. Someone is underestimating how many more people might subscribe or donate if they branched out a little - a new play here, or a fledgling director there, maybe a "second stage" season with a couple of dirtier, grittier plays. They are glossy and all American, which definitely has it's place (Our Town is my favorite play of all time, after all) but they need to be doing more to stay relevant.

"One step forward, two steps backward"

The American Repertory Theatre has done some amazing work this year. I'm not gunna lie, I kind of hated most of the shows I'd seen up until recently. However, my main problem with the ART was not their company of actors, but the directorial choices and uninspiring conceptual approach to theatre they're known for. So while the A.R.T. has made some bold changes and reinvigorated their artistic drive lately, I have to ask why it is that they also gutted their resident acting company?

To use an analogy from Slings and Arrows, it's like saying "Man, Darren Nichols plays are really bad... We should fire all the actors".

Many of those actors are still cast this season, but without this rarest of institutions, I worry that the direction of the A.R.T. might have shifted in another direction but left behind their strongest asset.

The lack of a dedicated, proper Fringe Festival.

Who has thought, man it would be really cool if we had a Fringe Festival in Boston? They have great ones in New York and Philly and a bunch of other cities (Chicago, Minneapolis, San Fransico, to name a few) and we want to put ourselves on the map as a theatre city, right? So why no Fringe Festival? Oh, wait, there IS a Fringe Festival. When, you ask? Over 2 weekends in October. Where, you ask? ...in BURLINGTON? Ok #1 it is a hike and half to get out there, and #2 when you get there, it is a tiny little space with no dressing rooms or backstage space.

But it's a space so the flaws can be forgiven, but WHY is this what we have? A varied number of acts (not all theatre) show up to present to a non-existant audience. No viable Boston companies are represented. No viable companies are represented period. We can fix this. We can piggy back of the Boston Theatre Marathon or FeverFest or The T-Plays (or some other short play festival) to create a two week Fringe Free For All. All we need is the space. We need the limited number of spaces we have in the city to open their doors and say, yes, we will help, and yes we want people to see our Fringe Theatre. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The small and fringe companies here are the strength of our theatre community, so we should create the opportunity to showcase everyone and accept other submissions, make OTHER THEATRES want to produce HERE. Bringing people in from the outside is the only way to keep moving and growing. Make them love Boston like we love Boston. Fringe festivals do that. But not the one we have now.

Quick Hits

Companies to watch!
Fort Point Theatre Channel
Ganameed Theatre Project

We already wrote about you, but you deserve another mention:

11:11's Foreverendia (This show made me cry hysterically in the parking lot. 'Nuff said.)

Didn't fit in other categories, but total hits this year:

The Old Spice Guy
The Mayhem Commercials
True Grit
StageSource (We couldn't do it without you.)

Misses

The Kurt Weill Foundation's trigger happy agent. (Seriously, fuck those guys!)
Spider Man: Turn off the Dark (Did we really need a super expensive Bono musical, anyway?)
Actor's Equity (Please don't revoke my EMC status)
Rabbit Hole (It was such a good play, too...)

If you made it this far down, you are the final hit of the year. If we put you on the Miss list (Hi Diane), we do intend on checking out your shows/projects in the future. If we didn't believe in you, we wouldn't have even mentioned you. We know you can do better. We don't kick when you're down.

Except, maybe Spiderman...

Best,

The CoLab Theatre Co.

Rededication

2010-12-27T01:00:00.005-05:00

It's been over a month since my last real blog post. And even that entry was sort of half-hearted. I was feeling guilty for not having posted in 10 days and just wanted to get something on the page. To keep interest up, and keep hits coming to the blog, and to keep you all reading. That's what the blog had turned into, for me, in the last few months. Just a thing I have to do to keep the company moving forward.

I went back a couple of days ago and read over the posts in the last month (made by Kenny and Erika) and my brain really stuck on the short mention Kenny made of having reached our one year anniversary of blogging.

One whole year. I kind of couldn't believe it.

And that got me thinking about why we started the blog in the first place and how into it and energized by it I got. It is a tool to serve our community first and foremost. Not me as a performer. Not the CoLab as a company. But you our readers and even those members of our community who don't read or follow us (which is still most everyone, I know ;-) ). It is a place to discuss issues we're having working in Boston, or to highlight a really fantastic show, or speak up against the things we think missed the mark, and celebrate the victories (and defeats) that come in this kind of work. It does work as self promotion, a nice perk of using a blog, but it's not why we started it.

I speak for myself now in saying that despite some frustrations and doubts I'm battling in my own abilities and goals, I am rededicating myself to this blog in the New Year. I don't want to think of it as a resolution. The connotation of that brings on too much pressure. I know now I can't always get my entry up on time, sometimes I just can't find the topic or the words. But as we go into our second year it's important to reevaluate what we have accomplished and rededicate ourselves to the things we do well and are proud of.

And I am proud of this blog.

I am proud of the CoLab. Even though we may not know exactly what our path is yet, we have set some mighty solid stepping stones along the way. And our keystone principle is to serve the theatre community by talking about what's going on, including everyone who wants to be included, and creating theatre with and focused on artists working in Boston right now.

And so I am rededicating this blog to you our readers and Boston in general, and to making theatre.

Cheers.

*M-L

Kenny Collaborates with Local Non-Profits!

2010-12-23T09:55:00.003-05:00

Here at The CoLab, we have days jobs. Some glamorous (MI5 Operative, Gourmet Pastry Chef), some not so glamorous (Barista), and some for non-profit organizations that do really great work.

I've been working part time at The Jewish Women's Archive the past month or so, and a co-worker of mine (whom some of you may recognize if you went to or taught at Brandeis, as I knew some of the readers did) recently asked me to help out with a "telethon" concept video appeal she was planning.

Some brainstorming happened... Here are the results:

Thanks to Leah over at JWA for asking me to collaborate! And also, consider checking out the Jewish Women's Archive website or their blog, Jewesses with Attitude!

The mission of the Jewish Women's Archive (JWA) is to uncover, chronicle, and transmit to a broad public the rich history of American Jewish women.

We're in the middle of our Annual Appeal, so if you or someone you know may be interested in making a donation, mosey on over here! I'm up to my neck in checks to process, but we could always use more!

Best,
K

A Reader Review of "Tron"

2010-12-21T10:43:00.003-05:00

Here at the CoLab, we welcome guest blogs, tips and reviews of the arts from anyone who cares to share! Normally, we look to share insightful, controversial or inspiring words...

But instead, here's a brief review of the recent remake of "Tron", written by a former classmate of mine who shall remain anonymous:

so i went to see tron this weekend and did a bunch of cocaine afterwards. true story. it reminded me why i've only done it once before. it's just too much work. and then you're so thirsty the next day. although, it did keep me up until 6am drinking... so i guess that was the plus side? so yeah, i don't think i'll be doing that again. but tron was awesome. 4 stars.

This review was unedited to preserve the integrity of this blog.

K

Kenny Looks Back On One Year of Blogging

2010-12-17T23:40:00.002-05:00

Things have been so crazy in our lives that we actually forgot to acknowledge a major milestone...

It has been more than one year since we debuted The CoLab blog!

There will be a more proper end of the year, New Year's post in the future, but for now I just want to reminisce for a moment, the year that was...

Being threatened with legal action...

A flame war with an anonymous hater of Diane Paulus and the direction of the A.R.T. (Part II) (Part III)

The Soska Sisters, producers of "Dead Hooker in a Trunk" mention and link to us on their blog... despite getting the wrong blog name (I still think they're brilliant!)...

And I asked the world to call me out on my BS and tell me exactly how much I suck.

And finally...

Actually, nothing beats being threatened with legal action. Read it. Seriously. It was hilarious.

Those are just some of the posts I'm the most proud of. What other posts did you enjoy? Or did you enjoy writing the most (ML and E, I'm looking at you!)?

Best,
K

Who Wants A Cookie?

2010-12-10T11:41:00.003-05:00

The CoLab is having a Bake-Sale!!!!

Come and support two companies at once THIS SUNDAY at 11:11's Her Red Umbrella.

What it is: The CoLab will be selling concessions and home-baked goods at the intermission of the 3pm matinee performance of Her Red Umbrella! We are raising money to buy a StageSource Membership, apply for fiscal sponsorship, and support our first workshop of Dearly Beloved. Come support two companies with one ticket (and see Erika perform in the process).

Where it is: The Factory Theatre, Sunday December 12 @ 3pm.

About the show:

Her Red Umbrella
By: Brian Tuttle
Directed by: Robyn Linden

What if you had one semester to win the girl of your dreams?
Patrick is in love. But Patrick has a problem: he can’t really talk to girls. What Patrick does have is an eccentric Harvard professor as an ally in romance. He also has a hidden talent for writing. By the time a semester abroad in Europe comes to an end, Patrick must use every resource at his disposal to impress, romance, and win the one girl to whom he can’t seem to say a single word.

Tickets and Information:
www.1111theatre.com/her-red-umbrella.html

December 10, 11, 16, 17, & 18 @ 8pm
December 12 @ 3pm - CoLab Bake-Sale
$17 adults; $15 students and seniors; general admission

The Factory Theatre
791 Tremont Street
Boston, MA
www.thefactorytheatre.org/

The Economics of Acting

2010-12-05T21:48:00.004-05:00

There's been an article circulating the internets entitled Ten Things Theatres Need To Do Right Now To Save Themselves by Brendan Kiley. This blog post is not about the list of ten things, however. We've all read the article (if you haven't, do it) and had some reflection on the concepts within. However, my reading of this article inspired a completely unrelated train of thought on a really important topic.

How much is our work worth?

Point 9 reads:

Expect poverty. Theater is a drowning man, and its unions—in their current state—are anvils disguised as life preservers. Theater might drown without its unions, but it will certainly drown with them. And actors have to jettison the living-wage argument. Nobody deserves a living wage for having talent and a mountain of grad-school debt. Sorry.

So let's talk about this... And I warn you readers, that I'm going to be doing my best to discuss this point as an artist and not as a Libertarian Socialist... That would be a rant for another blog.

I'm not sure how many actors feel entitled to anything simply "for having talent and a mountain of grad-school debt." Have you ever heard that argument? I certainly haven't. What we do have are artists and actors who wish they could work for a living wage. There's a big difference here. The statement as written seems to imply that demanding a living wage is symptomatic of some sort of entitlement culture. Moreover, most actors I know don't have grad school debt. Most actors I know don't even have grad school degrees. But you know what I have? Undergraduate debt. I have a ridiculous amount of debt from a four year school, which I sought to attend based on the information I was drilled with as a child that "Education is the key to success" and that getting a college education would increase my value of my labor.

Evidently, the invisible hand has decided otherwise. There was once a time when you could support an entire family with a single income source without a college degree. Now, having a Bachelor's from a prestigious, private college can't stop you from working retail and temp jobs to make ends meet. How many underemployed law school grads are out there, while we're at it?

The fact is, no one class of person is entitled any sort of wage. However, can't we consider the idea that anyone willing to work hard is entitled to a "living wage"? Since when did this become an unreasonable demand? Yes, I believe I am entitled to a living wage, as a 40+ hour a week worker with two jobs (three, if you count theatre/film). Just as I believe a janitor, fruit picker or Wall Street executive is entitled to a living wage.

Fuck the invisible hand. We are constantly being told that our labor is worth only as much as we are willing to work, and that we have choice. No one forces us to be working poor, working class, we can lift ourselves by the bootstraps, all that crap. The fact is that our labor is worth more than we're willing to work for and we need to have higher standards. The choice between being evicted and working shitty job you hate IS NOT A CHOICE. Liberty depends upon the power to choose, and a rock and a hard place is not a choice.

I'm not saying I want to be wealthy. But we've accepted that certain careers are known to be low end. And that's the way it is, and if you don't like it, get a different job. "You don't have to work, you know." It's the same for a waiter. It's the same for an actor.

Imagine a world without waiters? That would kinda suck now, wouldn't it? Now imagine a world without actors? How boring would that be... We'd all have to start reading again... ::shudder::

So the logic implies that if you are willing to work for nothing, then that's what your labor is worth. By that logic, actors who love the work that they do should be paid nothing. Eventually, there'd be some people who left that labor force, but many would stay. Why are there some actor jobs and day jobs that pay and some that don't? Because we have some standards and some things we aren't willing to compromise. And that's a good thing.

So Mr. Kiley, while I really enjoy your article and think everyone should read it...

Don't preach about living wages. That my friend, is an insult to workers of all classes and occupations. Maybe there's an argument to be made, but that is not a very good one. "Expect poverty"? Who doesn't do that? Name me one serious actor who thinks they're going to make good money doing what we're doing.

But I refuse to accept poverty.

K

It's a Marathon, Not a Sprint

2010-12-04T13:34:00.001-05:00

I recently ran my first 5K. In case you were wondering, that's 3.1 miles. In case you were wondering, I ran it in 25 minutes and 35 seconds. That's a pace of ~8.2 min/mi. I didn't run a marathon, but this was a huge accomplishment for me. An accomplishment that I mentally and physically trained to achieve.

A career in the arts is a marathon, not a sprint. You start by deciding to accomplish something. My goal? Ultimately, I would like to support myself using only arts-related activities. Was this my original goal? Absolutely not. When I was sixteen, I wanted "to be an actress" but I had no conception of what that actually meant. Sure I had visions of Cosmo covers and E! interviews, but those weren't real aspirations, they were simply all I knew of the acting world. Now that I'm actually part of that world, I have a better understanding of what it means and where I'm headed.

So I started with The Warm Up: Warming up for a race is just as important as warming up for a career. I hold a BA in Theatre Arts from Brandeis. I spent a semester in London studying Shakespeare, Noel Coward, and other British greats. I participated in as much college theatre as I could. I learned about my craft in as many ways as possible.

The First Quarter Mile: After graduation, I chose a location - BOSTON. After that, it was a matter of time before I started making connections. I joined StageSource, I went on auditions, I saw theatre.

The Next Quarter Mile (AKA The First Half Mile): I got into my stride, my pace for the run - I found my niche. The fringe theatre scene. Kenny, Mary-Liz, and I started The CoLab and I started to meet more and more people who were interesting in bringing the same sort of theatre I was to the Boston area. This led to more and more auditions which led to...

Three Quarters of a Mile Down: Getting cast. During a run, the first mile and a half is the toughest to get through. My body sometimes isn't ready for it. It is the point in the run where my brain kicks in and says, "you know you can do this. Don't give up this easily." After that I get into my stride, and the roles that I've been cast in so far have helped me get into a stride in the Boston area. I've made a number of connections, friends, and I've been able to push myself as an actress. This is all part of the training, the marathon.

The Completion of the First Mile: I haven't hit this point yet in Boston. For me, it will be when I get paid for a role. (Actually paid, not just a stipend.) This had yet to happen, but I know it will some day. For now, I'll keep up my training schedule. A training schedule filled with 5k roles to help me train for marathon roles. (This is not to say that the first time I get paid will be for the role of a life time, but it will be a stepping stone.) My marathon role will be the role I've trained for my whole life. Or at least, it will feel that way. Hopefully I'll experience several marathon roles in my lifetime. But I know that won't be for some time.

And like the road, the stage is somewhere to head where things in "real life" get messy or sad or boring. My 5k training came out of a little heartbreak and little spare time. And here I am running an 8 minute mile. Like running, a career in the arts also requires your brain to train. To remember that even if you're having a tough first mile or a dry spell from getting cast, if you push just a little harder, run just a little further, it will happen for you.

So for today, I'll take my first race as a great accomplishment and I'll use this knowledge to push myself towards longer races and faster miles. And I'll do the same with the stage. With each role, I know that I'm headed toward the future. Each role builds on itself, telling me something about myself as an actress and as a human. I'm never going to run a 5 minute mile for 3 miles in a row. I'm just not. And I'm never going to be on the cover of Cosmo. But that's not what's important to me either. I don't know where I'll end up, but the journey is what's most important. Not the finish line.

A photo of my dad, brother, and I after the race!

Thankful

2010-11-23T01:32:00.003-05:00

I am thankful for:

My smile. It comes from my mom and it's my best professional calling card.

Being continually surprised and delighted by new talent in Boston.

Friends. The ones who know my non-theater related self as well as my actor/director/administrator self. It's important to remember the balance and have people who can appreciate me on different terms.

Dedicated artists who have made Boston their home for better or for worse and continue to work here because there's no place they'd rather be.

My family. Always.

Officially being able to say, at this point, I have spent half of my life involved in theater.

Macaroni and cheese. I think the obsession started the year I decided I hated turkey at Thanksgiving. It was a life saver. And we've seen some great times together.

Feeling a sense of commitment to my work and feeling appreciated for that.

Love.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and take some time to take stock of the things you are thankful for.

May the sun bring you new energy by day, may the moon softly restore you by night, may the rain wash away your worries, may the breeze blow new strength into your being. May you walk through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life.* Apache Blessing

*ML

Stuff Theatre People Like: Free Music

2010-11-17T15:19:00.000-05:00

So I love free music. You love free music. And this music is an art in itself. For those of you who don't already know Girl Talk, I'm happy to introduce you.. for free. Girl Talk is the stage name of Gregg Gillis a super fabulous mash-up artist from Pittsburgh. He takes music from a variety of genres and generations and literally mashes them together. The tracks are meant to be listened to in succession and I love listening to them. (He's also an incredible performer - I saw him live once and in college and he blew my mind.)

Here's a link to his newest album. I highly recommend this for all of your theatre folk out there.

Click me for beats.

Piles

2010-11-16T09:02:00.004-05:00

My life seems to be piles of things lately. Piles of laundry. Piles of lists: to do lists, long overdue phone call lists, things I should research lists. Piles of scripts. Piles of friends I haven't seen. Piles of shifts I don't want to work. Piles of workouts that haven't been completed. Piles and piles and piles. And the piles never seem to get smaller.

And the piles of stuff turns into piles of stress. The stress turns into piles of a emotions that I hate feeling - tears that aren't worth it. Conversations that worry my parents. Late night ice cream with the roommates (a pile that I'm actually pretty okay with).

The more times I type it out the more I think to myself, "Piles is a funny word." And so I laugh at the word. And I think to myself. They are just piles. The laundry will get squeezed in. (The lack of a pile of underwear will make that happen.) I'll find time to memorize the lines. I'll cross "go to the bank" off my list. I might have to sacrifice a clean room for a bit and I might have to sacrifice making my breakfast for a Dunkin' coffee in order to get a few extra minutes of sleep. But I'll get it done. And the piles, will be just that. Stuff. In my life.

I'm stopping thinking about the piles. They'll probably get bigger before the end of the week but if I stack all of the piles together: family, friends, rehearsals, work, I'll have a pile of life. And I'm supposed to be enjoying life. So today, I embrace the piles*. And push onward.

*If anyone wants to do my laundry though. I'm cool with that.