Author: rachael-admin

 

Rachael Carnes: Hi, Tricia! Tell me about your creative process as a director?

Tricia Mancuso Parks:  Because I come at it first as an actor, they’re two very different things, an actor hat and a director hat are different. I read the piece over and over and over, and then I start hearing it, imagining it, and then I’m very actor-centric, so I read the piece and I get a hit on what it sounds like, what the story is, as I understand it, and then I get in with the actors. In your piece [Permission] it reads so loudly. You can hear it, what’s happening between the mother and the daughter. And then what happens — You have to get it off the page. It has to be embodied with voice. It has to become three-dimensional. And when it does that, then you pull into the present tense, in this time, in this moment. Whether it’s history, or cultural or political, the story has to become so present. You’re working with actors who are breathing and living right now.

What is the director’s role?

My responsibility is to make sure that the story is as clear as possible to the audience. That’s really it. The actors are doing the heavy lifting. My responsibility is to help them hit points, or hit certain turns in the story, that keep our audience there, so our audience doesn’t drop out somewhere, or have questions, or become unengaged, but they get pulled into the story. Each time you go at something, you get another “Aha!” and this is always the exciting thing.

We had rehearsal with your piece on Sunday, I had been re-reading the text, it’s always in my head now. Now I’m visualizing the space that we’re going to be installing it in now, because when you install a piece in a space, the space has its own character. We need to honor that, the theatre. We honor where we’re installing the piece of theatre. Given the parameters of Wild Project, we had some fun staging, that we could incorporate.

And then on Saturday night, I’m reading the play again, and I think, “Aha!” I have an idea, and I want to try it again with the actors. I can have an idea, and we can try it — Sometimes it works, sometimes it’s clunky, and we move on.

In this last rehearsal, in the very end of your piece, page 10, Alice recounts her trauma, her situation, and we actually got it to where Sarah, our actress, was doing that as just dry, giving it to the audience visually. You take the acting out of it, the emotion out of it, that way the audience can feel it. And as soon as Sarah started to just see the incident in her head, and recant it, not emotionalize it, it breaks your heart.

How do limitations of time, money, resources, stoke creativity?

You have those parameters; those realities and it definitely makes you more creative. This is what we have to work with, this is our timeframe. How much time do we have? How many people do we need? And you show up for it. That’s your job. Period. Right now, you get to have this experience.

How does it feel to come back and work with the actors you’d engaged with a year ago in a staged reading format? What does it feel like to fully-produce the work?

It’s really fun! I love working with these two actresses, they’re both relaxed, creative, flexible and they’re fun. They also have very good chemistry between the two of them. Sarah [Kiefer], who’s playing the mother, has a preteen daughter.  And Emmy [Albritton] can play young, but she’s so strong. Actors spend, what, 70-80% of our lives, trying to get a job, so the time you spend onstage working is brilliant. It’s all in that moment.

We already have a trust, a chemistry together, and it’s fun. The two of them listen to my ideas, kind of take them seriously, kind of don’t, they’re up there, they’re gonna play around.

Once you take the script, get off book, and use the space you have, it’s fabulous, it’s play: You get to play. It’s completely fun. Finding these little problems, these obstacles, you have to solve. That’s what you do in rehearsal, we have to solve it.

What is the work you do, through your nonprofit?

My nonprofit Creative Women NY https://www.cwnyi.org/— I moved to NY in ’96, and I was only supposed to be here for a couple of years. I came with my then boyfriend, who’s my spouse now. When I got to NY, I knew a few people, not too many. When I was in California, I was part of a networking, and when I got to NY, I thought I’m gonna have a networking group for creative women in NY, that was back in ’96-97. And at the time, we met once a month and had networking, and it took off.

It lasted a few years, I got kind of burned out. So Creative Women went on hold. A friend asked me in 2012, what happened to Creative Women? In 2014, we had to go through the whole process, and Creative Women now, is a full 501(C)(3) production company. We produce theatre, but we don’t have a theatre space. Now it’s a solid producing company, and a solid nonprofit. We co-produce with other groups, fiscal sponsor, work together.

Any advice for someone just starting out in this art form? What’s a drop-in point, for someone new to working in this space? And how would you encourage them if they feel daunted, overwhelmed, or frustrated, like it’s an uphill climb?

You can only get better, the more you do it. Just keep working, keep collaborating, keep listening to your actors and your playwright. And the time we live in and your own instincts: Keep listening, and keep working. You might get burnt out. Your life might take you in another way. If it’s in your blood, you’ll find yourself right back in the theatre.

For more information about Tricia, visit her website:

https://www.mancusoparks.nyc/

Find “Permission” on New Play Exchange: 

https://newplayexchange.org/plays/264834/permission

And see “Permission” as part of the International Human Rights Arts Festival December 10, 2019, in NYC: 

https://ihraf.org/

 

 

 

Rachael Carnes: Hi Greg! What inspires your creativity?

Greg Burdick: Virtually every time I’ve sat down to start writing a play, the impetus was something that troubled me, angered me, or confused me.  I have consistently found writing to be a wonderfully therapeutic exercise, where, throughout the process you can construct meaning, understanding, or acceptance of all those things in your life that feel out of your control.  Inside the pages of the play, they’re all in your control, and that’s kind of awesome.

What’s your routine, when it comes to making art?

I try to storyboard first, so I have, at the very least, a general road map of where I want to go. But there are inevitable diversions and side trips along the way.  And those can be really fruitful.  I tend to write chronologically, beginning to end; and I often revise by revisiting previous pages before digging in to the work beyond.  I wish I were more disciplined about writing daily, but it’s most often when I can carve out the time.  Yet, when inspiration strikes, I’m not above jotting down an overheard turn of phrase or an eavesdropped dialogue exchange waiting in line to pay for groceries. My iPhone’s “Notes” page is littered with goodies like this.

Are there any surprises, or setbacks, that have fueled you to make stuff

It’s trauma that fuels good drama, right?  And I think it’s probably at the heart of all good comedy too.  It is most definitely a well from which I have drawn.  My play Agent of Change is a gritty depiction of my father’s battle with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, a cancer linked to servicemen exposed to dioxin during the Vietnam War.  I wrote a play called Accommodation after a particularly challenging year as a public school teacher. And I’ve written several anti-gun violence plays, (one for the playwrights collective that you created, CodeRed Playwrights,) because I suppose it’s my small way of trying to bring order to chaos.

What do you do for a living, and does that play into your artistic life?

I am a high school theatre arts instructor and director, with close to thirty years in the classroom, so my job and my artistic life are deeply interwoven.  While I don’t necessarily write material for my students, I am usually immersed in theatrical storytelling and stagecraft from seven in the morning until five in the afternoon.  I started my career teaching English/Language Arts, so there’s always been a deep affinity for literature and creative writing too. I try to foster that in my students, getting them to create alongside me. The best part about the job from a playwriting perspective is having the summers off to toil away my latest project.  But, you know,  sometimes sleeping in and coffee wins…

What’s the earliest memory you have of the arts? Music, dance, theatre, visual art — Whatever!

I’m fortunate to have several.  When I was three or four, my parents took me to see Sandy Duncan in Peter Pan.  Seeing her fly.  It sparked imagination.  Not long after that, I remember seeing my aunt perform in a Pittsburgh production of Kismet.  She was in the ensemble, knew where we were sitting, and during one of the numbers, the cast came up through the aisles.  I don’t recall much about the show, but she stopped at my seat, lifted her veil so I could see it was her, and clanged two sets of finger cymbals as she danced up onto the stage.  In that instant, I learned that what I saw during Peter Pan was something that our family could do.  A trajectory was set.  My parents were enormously instrumental in exposing me to experiences like this, so I owe a huge debt to them.

Looking back on 2019, what do you feel most proud of? Or — Top three? Toot your horn!

I’ve only been at this for four years now, but 2019 has been the most extraordinary year for me yet. Truly, an embarrassment of riches.  My full length play Monessen Falls received its U.S. Premiere at Good Luck Macbeth Theatre in Reno, Nevada.  Accommodation received two Equity staged readings and a truncated workshop production. And a short play I wrote was picked up by a theatre company in New York City who took the piece to a festival in Tottori, Japan, where the local actors performed it in Japanese.  When I first started doing this, I had trouble imagining anyone ever wanting to tell my little stories… but then to see my words being performed across the country, and then halfway around the world in a language I can’t speak… I still can’t believe it.

How do you balance creative life and all of the rest of it?

Sometimes I need to unplug completely.  It’s often after closing a show: when you’ve spent countless hours inside a building with no windows, you want to get outside and feel the sun on your face.  My wife and I are hopeless theme park nerds, (we met at one in Sandusky, Ohio,) and can’t ever get enough of the beach and the ocean.  I enjoy surfing, and stand up paddleboarding.  Both of those require you to be present in the moment.  The second you’re thinking about something else, you won’t be on your feet for long.  I think it’s important to disconnect fully to feed those other needs your soul has.  My writing is nearly always better for it when I ultimately return.

What’s it like making art in your community? Tell us about where you live.

I live in a town called Lakeland, Florida, which is centrally located between Tampa and Orlando.  While we may not have a wildly bustling theatre scene in our back yard, it’s just a short drive east or west to cities where you can definitely get your fix.  As a high school director in a relatively conservative area, I am often faced with the difficulty of wanting to challenge my students creatively, but must remain mindful of community standards that might prevent some titles from getting a warm reception.  I’m uncommonly lucky though.  The county where I teach advocates hard for arts education, and champions open access for its students.  Friends of mine are teachers in other parts of the country where this, they would tell you, is a luxury.

How ‘bout your family? Who’s in your inner circle, and how do they support your work?

My wife Toi and daughter Miranda  are my biggest cheerleaders.  And we have a close circle of friends who are always game to read my latest draft.  I’m fortunate to now have worked with several directors who routinely reach out to me asking “what’re you working on?” But I really have to credit a former teaching colleague of mine who I entrusted to read the first play I ever wrote. Gail Reynolds steeled me with the courage to start sending my work out into the world, and I’m forever grateful to her for it, because I’m not entirely convinced I would have done so on my own.  It wasn’t long afterward that some of my writing started to land.  Her encouragement convinced me I had something to say, something worth offering.  And we all need to feel that, right? A little sprinkle of validation to keep trying. Coming from her, it meant a great deal.

What art knocked your socks off recently? Could be a play — Or an album, a movie, an exhibit, a novel, anything! — What made you connect with the art and the artist’s work?

My wife took me to see Sara Bareilles in concert just last night.  I’ve always enjoyed her music, and lyrically I think she’s astonishing. But I was absolutely blown away by her stage presence. I’m not sure if I’ve seen another musical artist connect so fully and so genuinely with an audience.  For all things theatre, if you haven’t read The Wolves by Sarah DeLappe, put it on your list.  I gave it to my daughter to read, and afterward she came up and hugged me, thanking me for sharing it with her.  DeLappe has undoubtedly redefined the coming of age genre with this work. And, if you binge watch on Netflix, take a look at GLOW.  I think it’s some of the smartest writing on television since Mad Men.

What’s next on the horizon for your creative world?

Trying to finish storyboarding my latest full length before jumping in head-first, while still teaching a full load of classes, teching a musical coming into our space, preparing my students for our All County Theatre Festival, and starting pre-production on our spring show.

Cue the spinning plates music!

Any advice for someone just starting out in this art form?

Read plays. Read plays. Read plays.  Ones that you think you’ll like.  Ones that you’re sure you won’t.  You will learn something from all of them.  Join the New Play Exchange.  Upload your work there.  Read and recommend plays that you love on the site.  Reach out, and forge relationships with other playwrights. Champion one another’s work. The work we do is solitary- we need community whenever we can get it.  Dare to be bold. Shine a light on things you might be uncomfortable talking about.  We’re often scared to know what people might think of us if they knew everything that was under our rock… turn it over.  Let them see.

How do you relax and unwind?

I recently discovered meditation, and it has been a massive help.  Wonderful in the morning, to focus for the day; and beneficial at night, to calm down, relax, and ease into sleep.  I love sitting at the edge of the ocean, and listening to what the waves can tell me.  But I’m most at peace when I’m with my wife and daughter… away from the cares of the rest of the world.  They’re the best people I know, and I know they make me a better person. And of course, snacks.  And a lovely beverage.

Of all the work you’ve made — Do you have a favorite character? Who is it? And why?

I wrote a short play called Insert Token in which a man is kidnapped by a tech company after setting the high score on a brain-training smart phone app.  They recruit him to try to solve a dire crisis involving the status of the Internet.  His “solution” is to ditch technology completely. In a wild, destructive display, he demolishes his captor’s tablet to prove his point.  I wrote the play after a school year where day after day the biggest battle was trying to keep children off of their cell phones during class.  Sisyphus in the 21st century.  I love tech too, but it has become so invasive in our culture, that there has been significant social collateral damage, and I’m not certain we’ll ever fully recover from it.  So when I watch actors who play Sebastian as he has his high tech temper tantrum at the end of the play, I want to stand up and cheer.

Where can we find your work? Onstage, and to read?

A staged reading of my play I’ll Love You ‘Til the Cows Come Home just wrapped at the Bird Theatre Festival in Tottori, Japan, but it will be produced later this year at Northfield Mount Hermon School, in Mount Hermon, Massachusetts. You can read my work on the New Play Exchange: https://newplayexchange.org/users/13045/greg-burdick

Thanks for hanging out with me, Greg! So happy we’re buddies!