Hand Me the Keys

My friend Larry and I got together, as we try to do every week, to write and to talk.  It's often inspiring, even if some of our conversations are energized and passionate (i.e. if I totally piss him off by attacking him with my opinion).  This week was good.  We got together at a favorite coffee place, went upstairs and wrote across from each other at this tiny table.

Beverages: Coffee (Larry) and Thai Basil Lemongrass Tea (me)
Snack: Cinnamon Roll (shared)

It was great because it felt like we were feeding off of each other's energy even though we didn't speak much as we wrote.  It was actually the most productive writing session we've had together (at least for me).  Usually we write a bit, get bored and then go grab coffee and tea.  This time he was already there.  I joined him.  We wrote and kept writing.

I'm working on a rewrite right now that is going well.  Maybe a bit slow for my taste.  I like to pretend that I'm Superman and do a rewrite in a few days.  That hardly happens, by the way.  But I'm at the end of my third week and I've written 57 pages out of a script that will probably be double that.  So I'm just at the half way mark.  That's good.  I have to remind myself.

So we chatted about this teaching job I'm applying for.  I told him that the job is exactly what I want to be doing.  I want to be teaching a little bit and I want to be able to workshop my plays on my own.  I have a constant frustration that my plays are not making their way to the platform of regional and off-Broadway theatres.  But I think that frustration stems from my long-held belief that they need to give me validation.  And if I am not accepted by them, my work doesn't mean much.  And if I complain about it, then it's sour grapes.

I'm slowly learning to leave that thinking behind.  I have several plays that I love and that are well-written.  I have written good plays.  I  need a place where I can be alone with some actors...in a space...in a theatre building to talk about the work, to get it on its feet if we need to and to work stuff out as it exists on its feet in space.  I want to start seeing my work as I'm working on it.  Instead of writing, writing, writing and imagining the words and the actions in my head for so long then hearing it out loud, then writing, writing, writing more and rewriting, rewriting, rewriting more and maybe seeing some of it up in a workshop at some point several months or years later.  No.  That's not what I want any more.

I want to take something that I'm working on and play with it with some actors.  Fragile, gentle words and actions.  I want to pump them full of oxygen.  Then see what I have and do some more work on the page and bring it right back.  I need that at my disposal.

Then Larry and I were talking about the experience he's having with a play he's doing a reading of.  I talked about the last reading of this play that I went to a few weeks ago:

http://creativityinrealtime.blogspot.com/2013/10/in-line-of-fire.html

We talked about the difficulty of working on something for a theatre and then feeling obligated to them, either by their own insistence or our own sense of gratitude.  Playwrights are often waiting for crumbs to feed ourselves.  I would go as far to call them scraps.

Then Larry asked me what would be the bare minimum that I would need to work on a new play.

Space.

No hesitation.  Just give me the keys.

"Why?"

I told Larry that I just need a space to get to work.  But it wasn't just about space, but it is actually also about the building.  The temple, the synagogue that we come to worship.  I need a theatre to give me the keys.  Actors will come for me, but also come for the building.  It will give it legitimacy and it will make our gathering feel like an event.  It also says that the theatre trusts me to keep its space safe, in both a literal and a spiritual way.  As long as I'm working on something worthwhile and in a responsible way, I am creating safety for other artists who want to do the same thing.

I think the building is really important.  I need room, but not just a room.  Not just my living room.  Not just a basement somewhere.  I need a theatre space to create theatre.  A black box.  A space that is wide and blank enough for us to create the blank page on stage.

He also asked me what I would do if someone gave me $100,000 to work on a play.  I would put some of that money towards a production.  But I would also put it towards the development of one or two more plays.  To rent space.  Or to get space somehow so I could then start the process of development in a way that felt like it catered to what I need.

In the theatre, we give a lot of lip service to the idea that the development process is there to preserve and protect the playwright's vision.  But in order to do that, I think the playwright needs to be higher up in the food chain. The playwright needs to be at the top of the hierarchy.  Then the vision can trickle down.  The theatre has to hand the reins to the playwright--hand me the keys!--so that the playwright can guide their vision.  With other administrators, organizers and artists higher up the food chain than the playwright, the playwright's vision cannot come through.  This is not to say that everyone else in the process isn't there in support of the playwright, but without the power to make decisions, the purity of the playwright's vision is not there.

So it comes back to my very simple request:

Hand me the keys.

And then let's see what kind of work is created from that vantage point.  Shift the power.  It takes a different economic model.  It takes a different type of involvement from the playwright.  It makes the playwright more responsible financially.  And it's more of a residency model, I suppose.  And it doesn't have to be forever or even for months at a time.  I can do a lot with a four week workshop.  I can pull results in three weeks.  And even make do with two.  One is tougher, so pony up and make it at least two.  But hand me the keys and see what happens.

That's all I need.