Artists I admire: the cast and creative team of The Color Purple

This past Wednesday evening, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing the current Broadway revival of The Color Purple. I went with a friend from work who I often see theatre with, andthese artistic experiences that we have together fuel all sorts of discussions and thinking that we do about current events, cultural trends, and social justice issues. Given our interests and past production choices, The Color Purple seemed like a great choice. The revival, directed by John Doyle, had received a positive review in The New York Times, and I personally was curious to see Jennifer Hudson. I wouldn't call myself a fan, but I'm interested when "big names" make Broadway debuts.

Well, within the first five minutes of the show, I knew we were in for it, in the very best way possible. The staging immediately set the tone for an experience that would be ensemble-driven and focused on storytelling. A simple scenic design kept our focus on the acting and the singing, and the singing was extraordinary. This company of performers may be the strongest group of singers I've ever seen on Broadway. A lot of power and precision, led by the incredibly gifted Cynthia Erivo as Celie and Jennifer Hudson as Shug Avery. Jennifer Hudson sang effortlessly, alone and in her duets with Erivo, and then when it was time, she stepped back into the line and blended beautifully with the other female ensemble members. Erivo stepped out and up, and suddenly we were presented with this extraordinary singing force, filled with powerful interpretation and nuance. It was there all along, but Erivo was so skilled at calibrating her performance to mirror Celie's journey, that when she revealed the depth and power of the character, the vocal matched it in a transformative way. Her performance is a master class in playing a character's arc, one that I want every one of my acting students to see. It was an unforgettable experience from start to finish.

I've highlighted Ervino and Hudson, but the entire ensemble deserves praise and recognition. All of the principals, including Isaiah Johnson (Mister), Danielle Brooks (Sofia), Kyle Scatliffe (Harpo), and Joaquina Kalukango (Nettie) are fantastic, and the company as a whole is great. After the curtain call, I heard someone say, "I've never been to a Broadway show where everyone could sing so well." Totally agreed. If you want to hear some power and moving voices, then you should get a ticket to this show. Pronto.

Unforgettable. And an absolute privilege to witness. Particularly in a season when one show is getting so much popular attention and praise. Well-deserved I'm sure, but seeing The Color Purple illustrated just how important it is that I pay attention to everything that's happening.

For bringing such joy and power and commitment to their performances, for showing what clean and focused direction and design can achieve, for sharing an amazing story that needs to be heard now more than ever, for stopping the show twice for standing ovations (Cynthia Erivo), and for giving me another evening in the theatre that I'll never forget, the cast and creative team of The Color Purple are the artists I admire for this week.

Artists I admire: Sarah Bellantoni

Last Saturday I attended a production of Our Country's Good by Timberlake Wertenbaker at The Chapin School on Manhattan's Upper East Side. I worked with students at this private, all-girls school last year around this time, when my former student and now colleague Sarah Bellantoni asked me to work with her to create an ethnodrama with her students. The experience of making that play was one of the highlights of 2015 for me, so I was excited to see this year's production.

Through my work with Sarah last year, I learned just how great a teacher and director she has become. As I've said before, I love to learn from my former students, as it reinforces the idea that the transfer of knowledge can never be a one-way street. Sarah exhibited great generosity of spirit throughout our collaboration, patiently helping me to remember the nuances required when working with high school students, particularly young women. And collaborating at a high school where the entire drama department shares such high standards for their artistic and pedagogical work rejuvenated my own excitement about teaching.

As I sat in the audience last Saturday and experienced Sarah's production, I was amazed at the skill of these young actresses after less than 20 rehearsals. They navigated various accents with relative ease, and most of them played across gender, which they are accustomed to, but which for me illustrated a dexterity that some professional actors would struggle to find. And they understood the stakes of the play and played those stakes with full commitment. I walked out of the theatre feeling #grateful for the timeliness of Sarah's choice to direct this play. I needed to see this play right now, at a moment when so much noise keeps me from hearing any bit of truth. Because of Sarah's specific and thoughtful direction, I got some much needed truth last Saturday afternoon.

I sat with Sarah over dinner this past week, and we talked about her production and her students and her survival stories, as there are always survival stories whenever artists do something challenging and brave. Listening to Sarah talk about the accomplishments of each of her students illustrated how connected and committed she is as an artist and teacher, and her students and colleagues reap the benefits as a result.

For teaching me a thing or two (or ten!) about what it means to be an artist and a teacher, for having an amazing sense of humor and some of the best one-liners I've ever heard, and for showing endless amounts of compassion while still facilitating greatness in her students, Sarah Bellantoni is the artist I admire for this week.

Earning a moment

For one of the projects in my undergraduate directing class, I require students to create a non-verbal story set to a song of their choice. I think of the project as a live music video of sorts. The story that the director chooses to tell can have direct connections to the song, or the song can simplify provide the underscoring for the story.

I always learn a lot from seeing what my students create for this assignment. To begin, I discover a lot about popular music, as I hear songs by artists I didn't know existed. I also have the chance to see how new approaches to staging might work (or not) in the Provincetown Playhouse, where I'm lucky enough to teach the class. I love working in this theatre, but like any performance space, it has its idiosyncrasies and challenges. My students have taught me tons about the space as they present their projects each fall.

The projects also usually teach me something about playwriting, as I'm always reminded of how important it is to be conscious of how characters earn the right to know a piece of information. So often we rely on coincidences or magical solutions to help move a plot forward, and as a result, a character suddenly knows something important without having discovered it in full view of the audience.  Or a discovery happens more quickly than it would be possible in logical, real life circumstances. It's in these moments that I talk to young directors about making sure that characters earn the information that they have access to in a story. This is an important lesson for playwrights as well, and actors should keep it in mind as they work to discover how the characters they play make meaning of their worlds. All of these elements need to be considered if we want an audience to buy into the authenticity of the stories we tell.

Earning a moment requires investment in all of the given circumstances leading up to that moment. A playwright needs to write that clearly, a director needs to stage it with attention to rhythm and pacing, and an actor needs to play it with logical responses in mind that allow the moment to be legible for an audience.

Turning the corner and staying open

This past Friday evening the project that I have worked on for the past six weeks finally came to fruition with a successful opening night performance to a very receptive audience.  Anyone who creates something and then presents it to the public, regardless of format or discipline, knows that the opening/launch can be terrifying.  In the past I’ve always found myself wringing my proverbial apron, unable to let go of the project, and wanting to run out of the theatre as the performance unfolded.  This time, I feel like I turned a corner in my practice as a director, and I learned to just trust the work that I’ve done, and more importantly, to trust the other people that I’ve made the work with:  the actors and the production team.  As a result, I found myself sitting in my assigned seat at 7:45pm, ready to experience the work, and feeling much calmer than I’ve ever felt before, a feeling that continued throughout the entire performance.  I actually enjoyed myself!

It’s a lesson that’s hard to learn, but one that makes a lot of sense.  The act of sharing any piece of art with an audience is dangerous and uncertain for the creators.  It requires a giant leap of faith that the audience members will engage with the piece and invest the energy to make meaning for themselves about what is being presented.  While I try to be as clear as I possibly can be in my art making, I’ve slowly come to realize that my vocabulary for making meaning won’t always match with every audience member’s vocabulary.  Which means that not everyone will like the work that I choose to present.  This used to bother me a lot, because I desperately wanted to be affirmed for the work that I was making, but I’ve come to accept that my job is to make the work that starts the dialogue, not to judge it or force people to like it.  Martha Graham sums it up quite well in the following quotation about art making:

“It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable, nor how it compares with other expressions.  It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to stay open and aware to the urges that motivate you.  Keep the channel open.”

Resistance: From the trenches

In her book, A Director Prepares: Seven Essays on Art and Theatre, the stage director and teacher Anne Bogart dedicates an entire chapter to a discussion of the resistance that one might encounter in any creative process.  Given that I’m about to enter the second day of technical rehearsals for my show that opens next Friday and that there’s a lot of resistance right now, I pulled out my Bogart text this morning, and re-read places that I had underlined or marked with an “Amen.”

When I first encountered this book several years ago, the concept of resistance in a creative process was very frustrating to me.  I would get very upset, almost paralyzed, when things didn’t go as I had planned.  As I sit in this moment in the middle of the most difficult part of any theatre creation process (tech), I still find myself frustrated at the resistance that I’m encountering, but I’m not letting it paralyze me.  In fact, I tell my students that reading Bogart’s thoughts on this subject of resistance and working to embrace the ideas has actually helped me to become a stronger director and as a result, my work has gotten better.  Rather than have the paralysis, I try to keep climbing the obstacles until I make it over the top and the next one appears.  It’s the only way to get the job done.  Thankfully, I have a team of collaborators who are there to help push me up over the wall.

Reading Bogart’s words again this morning have helped to ground me as I enter today’s rehearsal.  Here’s some of what she writes:

"Resistance demands thought, provokes curiosity and mindful alertness, and, when overcome and utilized, eventuates elation.  Ultimately, the quality of any work is reflected in the size of the obstacles encountered."

"If there are not enough obstacles in a given process, the result can lack rigor and depth."

"Art is expression.  It requires creativity, imagination, intuition, energy and thought to take the random feelings of uneasiness and dissatisfaction and compress then into useful expression.  An artist learns to concentrate rather than get rid of the daily discord and restlessness.  It is possible to turn the irritating mass of daily frustrations into fuel for beautiful expression."

Thanks, Anne.  I needed that.

Anybody else?