April Grab-Bag

Perhaps it was a little disingenuous at the end of my last post, to write "This is how I would like to remember this project." After all, that was just one of the many facets of Dynamo, and I don't want to privilege one aspect over another, not when I have so many worthy memories. And also, tearful Shakespeare-induced gratitude is nice, but the bigger news from this project is that The Rose of Youth won Vassar's playwriting prize, the Marilyn Swartz Seven contest! So after our first show on Friday there was a wine-and-cheese reception, and free pizza for the cast, and an award for me. Here I am (with bouquet):

Again, it felt so strange to walk down that ramp and accept the award...ever since I first heard of the Seven Contest, I imagined winning it someday, just as I had always dreamed of seeing my play about Vassar performed at Vassar. So to have both those things happen, in an instant, on April 11, was quite surreal.

Now that Dynamo's over, it's nice to remember that, oh yeah, I have a life as a college student outside of the theater. Some of the things I've been enjoying:

• Lying in the grass in front of the Drama building, scooting further and further back as the afternoon wears on and the shadows come creeping across the grass, and reading The New Yorker. I just finished the article in this week's "Journeys" issue about the woman who went swimming in the Arctic Ocean. How nice to be warm and safe on the Vassar campus, not surrounded by icebergs and jellyfish and 30-degree water!
• Cooking for myself! I didn't feel like anything too elaborate tonight, so I made one of my quickest and easiest meals, Pseudo-Bruschetta (my own invention). Brush crusty bread with olive oil, maybe rub it with garlic, and toast it in oven. Meanwhile, heat some olive oil in a skillet, then dump in a can of cannelloni beans. Mash the beans with a potato masher, the back of a fork, whatever, while stirring them around. You want them to give up their liquid, then you want to reduce that liquid into a thicker paste. When beans are mostly thickened, add a can of tuna fish packed in oil. Then dice 2 plum tomatoes, add to the mixture, and cook until just heated through. Serve with toasted bread, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and parmesan cheese.
• But I'm also grateful to generous relatives who take me out to dinner. My parents treated me and Rachel to a great meal on Saturday; and tomorrow my uncle and aunt are coming to Poughkeepsie to attend a wedding, and are going to take me out to eat, too!
• Having my windows open and hearing the Vassar chapel bells every day at 12:30 and 5 PM. I'm going to miss them when I go.
• Making fun of the Miscellany News, its typos, the silly things it says about drama kids, the obviously made-up questions submitted to our sex columnist. E.g. "Can you tell me about syphilis?" Though this did lead to the greatest headline I have seen in a while: "Tolstoy Contracted Syphilis, And So Could You."
• Catching up on my work for all my other classes... This week I have given a presentation on The Taming of the Shrew, another on nineteenth-century perceptions of female hysteria in France, worked on a new one-act play, and read about fin-de-siècle Vienna and Budapest.

And now, because I was just reminded that Mr. Lehrer turned 80...and because the Pope is visiting America...and because I want to prove to my dad (a Lehrer fan) that I'm not mad at him, though we have been bickering via e-mail for the last two days... here is Tom Lehrer singing "The Vatican Rag."

Infinite variety, boundless bounty

The production of Antony and Cleopatra that started it all (OSF, 2003). Photo found at paulb.com.

My Dynamo project is--hard to believe--over with, after two performances of my play The Rose of Youth yesterday. You know how it is when you anticipate something for so long and it finally arrives, and after that you aren't sure what to do with yourself? That's where I'm at right now. I can't even see the big picture yet, but can only isolate small moments. Here's one of them: about my friend Rachel, the founder of Dynamo, and someone I've known for a really long time, but never so closely as now.

I first met Rachel nearly five years ago, at the OSF Summer Seminar for high-schoolers. Among the plays we saw that summer was a really terrific, intimate production of Antony and Cleopatra, which made a big impression on me. Indeed, I wouldn't have written The Rose of Youth if that production of A&C hadn't alerted me to the play's beauty and power.

That summer, OSF also had a copy of Shakespeare's First Folio on loan from Paul Allen's collection. A curator lectured to us on the history of the Folio and then invited us, in small groups, to gaze upon this priceless book. It was kept in a secured, controlled environment, in a plexiglass case, resting upon a special stand that could hold it open without straining its binding. It was open to Enobarbus' famous speech from Antony and Cleopatra:

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety. Other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies.

The curator told us that he'd done this on purpose: though these lines refer to Cleopatra, they work equally well to describe the bounty, the timelessness, the richness of Shakespeare's oeuvre. It was a moment of awe.

After that summer, Rachel and I lost touch, but we both ended up at Vassar--I still remember the shock of recognition when I ran into her at freshman registration. We both did a lot of theater--together and separately--until she invited me to be a playwright/collaborator on Dynamo a year ago. All last fall, we and the other two founders (Thane and Molly) worked closely on this project, getting to know one another better--and though I knew Rachel liked my play, I was still so grateful and flattered when she offered to direct its world premiere in early March.

When we read my play out loud for the first time, there was one scene that simply did not work. I had had Antony's death scene as a play-within-the-play, but that made things too slow and tragic. I needed a different Shakespeare scene, and promised to find one by the next day--praying that something else in Antony and Cleopatra would work. To my great relief, I found one: Act 4 Scene 4, where Cleopatra arms Antony before he goes off to battle. It is shorter than Antony's death scene, lighter in tone, and altogether better. I emailed the new scene to Rachel and the other company members before I went to bed that night.

The next day, I ran into Rachel in the cafeteria. While she went to buy food, I sat at a table musing on my great good fortune to have found a scene to substitute for Antony's death. I silently thanked Shakespeare for the gift of his writing, from which I can continually draw new pleasure and insight. This reminded me of those beautiful lines from Romeo and Juliet:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee
The more I have, for both are infinite.

And this, in turn, reminded me of "infinite variety" and the Enobarbus speech, and as I pondered these two quotes--two among thousands of Shakespeare's gifts to us--I found myself tearing up. Thoughts of seeing the First Folio at Ashland led to thoughts of meeting Rachel, and how that summer we never could have predicted we'd wind up here, founding a theater ensemble, her directing a play I'd written... I thought of Rachel's generosity, and our ensemble's, but most of all Shakespeare's. So I sat there in the cafeteria, getting all verklempt, then looked up, wiped my eyes, and waved to Rachel--who sat down, and began discussing the nuts-and-bolts of staging my play.

I think that that is how I would like to remember this project.

It's a Sign

Gearing up for my world premiere tomorrow. Fortunately, I've been so busy this week with midterms and with simple logistical issues that I haven't had time to engage in any lengthy reflections about "the meaning of a world premiere," and thus am avoiding major bouts of neurosis. And besides--the staging looks beautiful (it is amazing what fifteen people can accomplish in four days) and several moments of the script that I wasn't sure would actually work onstage, work beautifully.

I've had the idea for this play in mind for nearly three years now, and it was all prompted by a photograph of Hallie Flanagan's production of Antony and Cleopatra. Hallie is a very important figure in theatrical history, but even at Vassar she sometimes goes overlooked. One of our theaters on campus is called "The Hallie Flanagan Davis Powerhouse Theater" which sounds so formal that when I was a freshman, I assumed it was named in honor of some wealthy benefactress. Only when I started to research this play did I learn that art--not commerce--won out this time. And that there could not be a better name for a Vassar theater. I am honored that my play will premiere there tomorrow.

And today, on that wonderful grab-bag blog if charlie parker were a gunslinger, the powers that be decided to put up this photo:


It's Hallie Flanagan herself. And check out the comment on the post: "Those wild Vassar girls." Nice to know that some people out in blogland still recognize Hallie's name. And nice to think that we wild Dynamo kids are trying to uphold her legacy.

I take this as a positive sign. I have lots of work still to do tonight, so may not sleep much--but, when I do sleep, I'll sleep contented.

Happy Leap Day!

There's something special about an event that comes only once every four years--and February 29 is less hyped-up than the Olympics and less stressful than the presidential elections. Yes, it's Leap Day! And it always makes me recall Leap Day 2000, one of the more eventful days of my life up till then.

February 29, 2000, was opening night of our junior high school play, The Comedy of Errors. I played Doctor Pinch, a charlatan-conjurer trying to cure some people of their supposed madness. As our production took place in the Wild West, Dr. Pinch became an insane schoolmarm. (I designed the program to read "Dr. Pinch, an insane schoolmarm.")

I was a little annoyed to have such a small role (six lines, one scene) when I felt that I had paid my dues in other drama productions and planned to become a Great Actress when I grew up. Still, I got along very well with the other cast members, and made myself useful by helping people memorize their lines. Thus I became known as a very quick study, memorizing practically the entire play just by virtue of hearing it so often.

At least three of us actors were in the same first-period English (excuse me, Language Arts) class. On the morning of February 29, the two others stayed in the classroom while I went off to the library to work independently. (My teacher was happy for me to go off and do independent projects, which was good, because I couldn't stand her teaching style.) When I came back as class ended, my friend Hannah pulled me aside. "Natalie went home sick," she said.

"Yeah?" I said. "So?"

"No, listen, Natalie went home sick. Someone's going to have to take her part now, and it'll have to be you, because you're the only person who's not in the last scene, and we know you can memorize it."

I sprang into action. Suddenly I wanted the day to be over, all classes done, so I could swoop in and save the show from disaster! I have a bit of a hero complex, which was especially pronounced back when I was an arrogant 12-year-old. I found Natalie's role in my script--she was playing "Balthazar," a merchant, who has some short lines of dialogue and one 22-line speech. Later in the day my drama teacher gave me the go-ahead to take on the role of Balthazar, and for the next several hours I worked on drumming that 22-line speech into my head.

I don't remember how I got word that Natalie actually would be well enough to perform. Did someone phone me when I was at home after school? or did I merely find out when I got to the theater that night? Anyway, everyone thanked me for being so willing to help out; and, reduced once again to plain old Dr. Pinch, I got into costume and performed my one scene.

The cast went out for ice cream afterwards at Baskin Robbins, where we started gossiping, and one girl said that she had a crush on the guy who played Antipholus of Syracuse. When she said that, I suddenly realized that I had a crush on him too, which was perhaps an even more emotionally thrilling moment than what had happened earlier, when I thought I was going to "save the show"... a strange moment of perfect clarity, where I turned away from the rest of the group and something changed within me. One moment, I was sure I didn't have a crush on anyone; the next, I was sure I was madly in love with my fellow actor. Blame it on hormones, I guess? I'm never like that anymore: nowadays, when I have a crush, I second-guess and overanalyze everything. O for the innocent clarity I had at twelve years old!

The following night, another actress (playing the Courtesan) got sick, but I couldn't replace her this time, since the Courtesan and Dr. Pinch appear in the same scene. This disappointed me a little, but since I had gotten my "hero complex" out of my system the day before, plus I was newly in love and thus preoccupied, I can't remember being too angry about it.


Here is a photo of our Comedy of Errors cast, recently posted on Facebook by another person who was in the play. I am the girl wearing the gigantic straw hat.

And now it's eight years later, it's Leap Day again, and I am preparing for opening night of our Dynamo show, There Was No Time Before the War. Just as with Dr. Pinch, my role tonight has one scene and six lines--a nice connection to that eventful day eight years ago. But no one's gotten sick, I have absolutely no desire to "save the show" even if someone were to fall ill, I'm no longer great at memorizing lines, and I don't get those uncomplicated pre-teen crushes. The calendar keeps going on its accustomed yearly cycle, with this one wonky Leap Day thrown in every four years; but meanwhile, I've changed.

Presenting the Dynamo Theater Lab

You might have noticed that I've been posting less frequently on my blog these days... and if you're really astute, you might have noticed several of my posts concerning my new play are tagged "The Rose of Youth." What's that about? Well, I am in the middle of a very exciting theater project, which has been in its planning stages since last fall, and now has finally begun in earnest!

Dynamo Theater Lab is an experiment in presenting vibrant productions of new plays without needing to invest months of time or heaps of money in them. We will perform three shows, one the play I wrote for my senior thesis, The Rose of Youth. We are a 15-member ensemble that does everything ourselves: casting, acting, designing, directing... whatever we need to do to get these plays on their feet!

I'm one of the "original" Dynamo members, the four senior drama majors who laid the groundwork for this last fall. The idea originated with my friend Rachel, who then got the rest of us on board. What's nice is that we all approach theater from a different perspective--Thane is an actor, Rachel is a producer/director, Molly is a designer, and I'm a playwright--so we complemented each other well. We also sought variety in our three shows:

• Bastard Nation is a fast-paced satire about America, immigration, Wal-Mart, Christianity, and mad cow disease, by Hudson Valley playwright John Christian Plummer. (When the news came out on Monday about the ground beef recall and the fears of mad cow disease, this play suddenly felt prophetic!)
• There Was No Time Before the War takes place in a dystopian factory--and what's really cool is that the scenes can be performed in any order you like. It's by Jason Platt, who graduated Vassar in 2006.
• The Rose of Youth (my play) is a backstage drama with a huge cast, about Hallie Flanagan's production of Antony and Cleopatra in 1934.

The schedule of Dynamo is such that we just performed two shows of Bastard Nation yesterday and will begin rehearsals for There Was No Time Before the War tomorrow, and meanwhile, I'm putting the final revisions on The Rose of Youth so we can begin rehearsing it a week from tomorrow! So you'll understand if my blogging continues to be sparse over the following weeks.

Interested in learning more? You can get tickets to Dynamo, read about us in Vassar's student newspaper, and become a fan of us on Facebook!