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The Company
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A Debacle and a Sun Rising? |
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Written by Tony Adams
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Friday, 05 September 2008 10:33 |
Last weekend we had a benefit to help raise money for the space costs for Militant Language. It was kind of a disaster. Turnout was pretty low. We made the mistake of having it in Wrigleyville on a summer Saturday. Years ago in my early twenties I loved it. Now I totally get why so many folks would rather be on any other street in the city than on the corner of Clark and Addison at 11:30 on a Saturday night. But that was not the main problem. It was the entertainment that really went sour. We had three acts booked. - A solo singer/guitarist, who lost a string.
- A hip-hop trio who lost a rapper. They've played for us before and were good. This time, not so much. Without the whole of the group they phoned it in. Instead of their set they played music and grunted into the mic, like a drunken off-key karaoke singer. It was brutal.
- The final planned act lost their bassist two days earlier. So they couldn't play, but one of their guys dj'd for the rest of the night-which was pretty cool of him.
We've had pretty good acts at all of our fundraisers prior to that, but apparently the stars were not aligned this time. We're grateful to those who swing by and it looked like most had a good time in spite of the un-tertainment. I guess you can't win them all. Special event fundraisers are always a little dicey, and we learn from each thing we do. We made the mistake of making the night less about the event and more about the fundraising. We should know better, but it's easy to rest on laurels. Everyone is having fundraisers. I get half-a-dozen flyers each week. They tend to cancel each other out. The event which needs to be the main factor for people, otherwise it's no different than any other organizations fundraisers. But there were some huge pluses. We raised more money than we have at many of our fundraisers. A lot of folks who couldn't make it donated online. Most of the donations were $5 (what the cover charge was for the fundraiser). It doesn't take a hundred bucks to help. Some gave more if they could, but smaller donations add(ed) up quickly. It is heartening that so many took the time to help even though they couldn't make it that night. And we know how to make it better each time we go forward. All in all, it turned out much better than we had thought the next morning. cross-posted at Tony's Blog
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Written by Tony Adams
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Tuesday, 26 August 2008 13:52 |
Play reading at Halcyon house is in full swing. We've received ninety-eight submissions in the month of August (so far). We don't produce new-work exclusively, so we're reading published works as well. We read scripts year round, but as the end of the year approaches, it always picks up. I went back and revisited an old post and I think it's still pretty true of how I evaluate scripts. I try to remember that as I'm going along.
We're a small company that can only afford to produce three plays and a festival each year. So, that means there are at least ninety-five submissions from this month alone that we aren't going to produce. We're getting ready to enter our third season, and while I'd like to think that everyone knows us, in reality most theatre audiences or artists probably have not.
While we don't have the resources or pay-scale of a large institutional theatre, one thing I work very hard to do is be thankful that people want to work with us. At the end of the day we're just story tellers. There's two parts: the story, and how you tell it. A great production requires both. So any theatre is only as good as the scripts they're producing/creating. Any theatre is only as good as the people working with them.
Almost a hundred plays were sent to us in a month. Now expand that to bigger places with wider reach and the sheer number of playwrights submitting can be scary. One small part of development hell is simply numbers. If a company gets one-thousand scripts for a 10 show season, and they do exclusively new work, that's 990 plays being rejected each year. That's a lot of jilted partners.
So to some extent, yes, writers should be grateful if someone chooses to produce their script. That should not mean turning into a door mat and being walked over. As with any relationship honesty and communication are pretty necessary parts of the equation. It's a partnership, and that breaks down when one partner treats the other like shit. It breaks down if one side is a stalker, or one side simply ignores the other.
One of the reasons for the animosity between many writers and directors/theatres is that one side treats the other like shit. And then there's the retaliation and we get a cycle of mistrust.
Theatres that don't want to read scripts, or don't have the time too could simply not accept submissions. But many don't, they create hoops to jump through query packets and agent submissions etc.
Writers who don't like a companies work, or whose script doesn't fit well with that company don't have to send it in.
Funding for developing new work could go to companies that actually produce new works. That would change the landscape significantly.
Long before a director can even think of changing a line without a writers consent, or a writer can claim the right to approve all personnel, or people can argue over copyright, or any budgetary concerns--there's usually been a breakdown in the relationship.
One partner cannot be bothered with the other's needs. They're to busy to notice their partner. Lack of resources; I'm so busy at work right now; it's not you, it's me.
I've gotten a lot of grateful messages from writers this month--not for accepting their submissions; not for producing their work. Grateful for me taking a minute to send an email acknowledging we've received their submission. In essence, writers are grateful just for a receipt. Many don't even bother with that.
Not every play is great, many won't even be good, but a handful might be spectacular. On the off chance, shouldn't more theatres be grateful enough to give a receipt? cross-posted at Tony's Blog
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Written by Jesus Contreras
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Monday, 28 July 2008 14:18 |
…because I love this work. It’s the one time I can say that I am doing something that does not feel like work. The hours spent rehearsing a play, loading in a show, building a set, or doing the performances are some of the best hours of my week.
…because there is not one aspect of the process that I do not find interesting, engaging, or rewarding. I have had the chance to stage manage, assistant direct, and act. Hell, even working the door at auditions is a great time.
…because of the possibilities. Be it in the work that is done, or the effect the work can have on people the possibilities are limitless. You can be anything, anywhere, at any time in history. You can create worlds that do not even exist. If done well, you can connect with other people and entertain them, make them laugh or cry.
…because it makes me want to be better. Theatre has given me purpose. I’m still a huge work in progress, but at least now I have a blueprint. I have something to work for, something to work towards. I wondered when people would say, I was doing x, y, or z when and then it clicked and I realized that I wanted to do this forever. For me that happened in theatre.
…because of the people. Without question, the most important why of theatre for me are the people. I have met some of the most, talented, hardworking, and intelligent people I know in my life over the past year. I’ve met some great acquaintances that I hope to foster into great friendships.
I have been involved in theatre for a little less than a year. To date is has been the greatest little less than a year of my life.
That’s Why Theatre.
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Written by Denise Santomauro
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Monday, 07 July 2008 23:05 |
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So a non-theatre friend of mine recently asked what I was up to. I responded with, “Well, I’m auditioning a little and I’m going to dramaturg Militant Language in the fall for Halcyon.” “What’s a dramaturg,” he responded, eyebrows raised as though I was making up a title for myself. “Well…it’s…ummm.” Then it dawned on me. I don’t really entirely know myself. I mean, obviously I know what it is…kinda. But I never received a textbook definition for it. With that thought in mind, I hit the wonderful world of the internet and looked up dramaturg. According to Wikipedia, a dramaturg (or dramaturge) “is a position within a theatre that deals mainly with research and development. It has gained its modern-day function through the innovations of Gotthold Ephraim Lessing, a playwright and theatre practitioner who worked in Germany in the 18th century. The dramaturg's contribution was to categorize and discuss the various types and kinds of plays, their interconnectedness and their styles.” Hmmm. Well, I’ve been doing research for Militant. That counts right? As I widdled away an hour or more online I began to see that there is a whole world of dramaturg’s out there doing all kinds of things. There are also all sorts of definitions for what a dramaturg does. Everything from research prior to production to being a liason for a playwright whose play is still in development to doing translations of scripts. I was a little overwhelmed. I suddenly felt a out of my league. I stepped away from the computer, made some tea and thought about my role with Militant. It occurred to me that the position is really open to whatever a production needs. There is no set in stone definition as to what a dramaturg does. It really depends on the company, director and demands of a production. I breathed easier.
Sometimes I think we get bogged down by the labels put on us. We feel boxed in to a specific way of thinking or being based on a definition. And isn’t that counterintuitive to being an artist? Isn’t an artist about exploring your own creativity and choosing your own way of expressing it? For me, the reality is, I’m a huge dork at heart and the magnetic pull I feel towards dramaturgical work is my need to live fully in my dorkiness and stay connected to theatre at the same time. Plus, it gives me an excuse to hang out in coffee shops and read for hours on end.
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Hearing the Sound of Spanish . . . |
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Written by Juan Castañeda
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Tuesday, 27 May 2008 10:45 |
The Language my parents speak…
This paraphrased line from Cloud Tectonics really got stuck in my head, and then when the Alcyone Festival came around the phrase eventually lead to La Hija de Las Flores.
I remember asking Tony where the Latin playwrights were when choosing the line-up for the festival. “That’s a good question” he responded as he began to click away on the computer. We found three scripts in Spanish all by the same playwright (Gertudis Gomez de Avellaneda). The thing that made me lean towards Hija was how much the characters of Juan the gardener and Tomasa his wife reminded me of my parents. When reading a play I know I’m enjoying it when I imagine the story in my head. Before the play got cast, I always saw my mom and dad in my head.
At first we toyed with the idea of translating the play and having the actors perform in English, but when we realized we had four months to write the translation the idea to try it in Spanish came to everyone’s head. Tony expressed some concern in finding Spanish speaking actors. “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem” I told him. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
Before I go on, I’d like to mention how much talent the cast of Flora has and brings to the rehearsals, and how much fun we have during rehearsals. The play is a stroke of comic genius and the cast is executing that comedy to perfection. The problem with having such a talented cast is that I’m not the only one who notices their talent. I’m fighting conflicts during the rehearsal period left and right. Once I think I have a grasp on things some new conflicts are thrown into my hands causing me to fumble then lose my grip again. The fact of the matter is the pool of Spanish speaking actors isn’t exactly the size of Lake Michigan; it’s more like an inflatable kid’s pool in someone’s back yard.
So has the production been worth the struggles? Hell yes, both personally and for the sake of the company. As far as the company goes, we preach this concept of one world, one story, and I feel that this play falls into our mission perfectly. It shouldn’t be enough that we have such a diverse ensemble but that we should use the differences in our ensemble to get the most out of ourselves. As for me, Flora gives me the opportunity to be involved with a production that my parents can fully understand, and enjoy; as art assumes the language that they have been speaking all of their lives.
But what happens to someone as an artist if they just stick to what feels comfortable without seemingly expanding or challenging themselves to other works. Am I limiting myself to Latin based works as a director because I feel the need to do that, or because that’s all I feel comfortable doing? Is there anything wrong with only exploring genres you're comfortable with, and is there a sense of obligation because I am a Latino?
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