Category: Creative Colleagues

I first began working with playwright John Minigan on a shared project — #CodeRedPlaywrights — Responding to gun violence. We’ve shared various playbills, and he’s one of those readers I trust with my ugliest, roughest, wartiest drafts of new work. John feels like a close friend, even though… We’ve never had the opportunity to meet in real life. Hopefully soon! So, John…

What inspires your creativity?

John Minigan: *Gestures at the world*

My biggest interest, at least in the last 10 years or so, has been the intersection of the personal and the political. So often our politics are at the level of that annoying college roommate who loves to play devil’s advocate. What I’m more interested is in the impact of the political on individual lives.

And I find I get really engaged when I have two ideas that don’t seem to connect. The energy of those separate ideas bouncing off each other gets me writing to figure out why they are so desperate to work together.

Tell me about what you’re working on now.  

So many projects. Because of the pandemic, there are several full-lengths that I’d love to get into workshop or production, but not much of that’s happening, so they feel a bit backed up and therefore still in-process. My newest full-length is a piece about the dangers of belief. It’s the story of Jordan, a gifted federal agent who goes undercover in an apocalyptic religious community and the fallout of her attempt to do the right thing, even though it defies what her superiors want.

I’m also really happy about a new commission for a short audio piece for a big Boston theater. Very cool project that hasn’t been announced yet, but I’m excited by the parameters of the piece, which will involve a lot of really specific Boston research. A great excuse to pound the pavement in Boston to think through ideas.

Are there any surprises — or setbacks — That have fueled your craft?

I was a full-time high school teacher running a busy after-school drama program up until just under three years ago. It meant that I only had time to write during July and August, so I had to really consistent about writing for those two months in order to get anything done. Now that I’m teaching part-time, I’ve mostly maintained that habit of writing really consistently.

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

I retired from my gig as a full-time high school teacher of mostly theater and Shakespeare in 2018, and lots of years immersed in so much drama – in the texts and in the building! – have had a huge effect. Shakespeare, in particular, has been for years the wallpaper of my brain, and my two most-produced full-lengths as well as my most “awarded” though still unproduced full-length are all “Shakespeare adjacent.” And the other huge influence of that gig on my artistic life comes from work on the twenty or so devised plays I created my students—a mix of 40-minute one-acts and full-lengths. The process of developing story and character through improv and discussion has led me to treat all of my work as really fluid. I’m good about tossing stuff out because that process taught me that there’s always more material to waiting to come forth.

I’m currently teaching part-time: Playwriting and Shakespeare (and have taught Adult Acting) at the Hanover Theatre Conservatory and Theater Education to grad students at Emerson College.

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

Way back when I was in single digits, my uncle was a custodian at St. John’s Prep, an elite private school with an incredible theater program, and he often brought us to shows. The first two I remember were a stage version of The Hobbit and, most memorably, Thornton Wilder’s The Skin of Our Teeth. Both were wild, hugely theatrical and entertaining – pretty spectacular, and influential because I was so young when I saw them. I’m nowhere near that kind of work yet. But I have Goals.

Looking to 2021, what do you feel most excited about creatively?

I have the sense that, maybe not in 2021, but soon after, we will be back in theaters, and what I’m really missing is collaboration with other artists. 2019 was my first year past full-time teaching, and there was so much collaboration: a week-long workshop at Portland Stage, another week at PlayLab at the Great Plains Theater Conference, and two busy and blissful weeks working on and in of my shows at the Edinburgh Fringe.

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

I write every morning and then mostly “leave it alone” for the rest of the day. I’m lucky to be one of a vanishingly small number of Americans who was in a profession with a pension, and it is amazing to have the gift of time I didn’t have in my 35 years in the classroom.

What’s it like making art in your community? Tell us about Boston!

Boston is SO interesting. My own journey as a Boston writer (or Boston-ish, since I live 20 miles out of the city) has shown me that despite playwrights having a lot of avenues for support, it’s also a kind of balkanized theatrical community, where efforts/recognitions/successes in one area, program, or venue won’t necessarily translate. I’ve had a major, well-funded state playwriting fellowship for the past two years, a year-long writing fellowship at a professional theater in town, two full-lengths produced in Boston nominated by the Boston Theater Critics’ Association for the award for the best new script, etc., yet I still feel very much on the margins as an artist in town. It feels like, in Boston, you can be both “recognized” and “invisible” at the same time.

Having said that, playwrights in town are very supportive of one another. There are lots of active writers’ groups, and events like the Boston Playwrights Theatre’s Boston Theater Marathon, the Open Theatre Project’s Slam, and others that provide venues for new work on the fringe, even while larger theaters are reluctant to look to locals for new work.

Who’s in your inner circle, and how do they support your work?

Personally, my family is tremendously supportive. My wife is also a writer and artist—a dancer/choreographer and dance scholar/author, so she understands the commitment. Our son is a composer and music teacher about to start a Ph.D. program. And our daughter may not view herself as an artist (though she’s a great photographer), but she’s very supportive of all of us. She even has a tattoo of a line from one of my plays, which I think I can list as my favorite production of all time.

Professionally, I’m in two groups for Boston playwrights: Write On, which is part of the production company Centastage; and Writers at Play, which meets at Boston Playwrights Theatre. In addition to our regular sessions, we’re generally really good about seeing one another’s work. And our regional Dramatists Guild Rep, Patrick Gabridge, is a champion of all Boston playwrights and creates and runs a lot of programs that provide support.

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?

I saw it in 2017, I think, but Paula Vogel’s Indecent is still up there at the top of my list. It not only hit squarely my interest in the way the political impacts the personal, but the theatricality of the storytelling is just insanely inspiring, using all the elements of theater to move a mass of people sitting together in the dark through a powerful, important, hugely resonant story.

And getting my name drawn at random to be part of one of Paula Vogel’s “Boot Camps” in the summer of 2018 was a great launch to my post-drama-teacher life. That certainly knocked the other sock off.

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

I’m excited to get back to that “most awarded/never produced” play, which is getting (wait for it…) another reading, this time at Gloucester Stage. I think this will be reading number 16. But I’m that inflatable clown doll that keeps bouncing back up, certain that this time…

And, as mentioned above, I’m excited to get to work on the commissioned piece.

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

Rejoice in your horrible first draft. It is exactly what it needs to be to get the process started, and it’ll open the door to all the good work that will follow.

How do you relax and unwind?

My daily pattern in summers when I was teaching full-time was to write in the morning, continue the 30-year-long-home-renovation project after lunch (relaxing for the mind), go for a run or walk before dinner, then read, play, or watch something at night. Now, I get to do that almost every day. At this point, to be honest, most of my life feels like relaxing/unwinding from being a one-person school theater department for so long,

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

Most of my plays are on the New Play Exchange, and there are links to some favorite videos of my work on my website, johnminigan.com. There is also a list of what’s coming up at the ‘On Stage’ page of the website.

Favorite dessert? Flower? Time of day? Dessert? What makes you happy?

I love the moment after the last class of the week, whether it was my full-time job or my current part-time gig. I think so many years teaching, in so many crowded rooms, has taught me to value those quiet moments to breathe, regroup and re-center. And if dark chocolate is also involved…

 

 

Rachael Carnes: Hi, Aaron! Last time we saw each other was at the Samuel French Off-Off Broadway Festival in 2019. That feels like two million years ago. So, what inspires your creativity?

Aaron Leventman: Human behavior and personality, strong identification with a certain person or place, and stories of every day heroism.

RC: Tell me about your work with Almost Adults. I so enjoyed the production of my play WABI SABI last year. Where did the idea come from?

AL: In 2015, I wanted to produce an evening of my own short plays that were LGBTQ+ themed.   I created a production company so that I could accept funds and other kinds of support for this project.  I came up with the name Almost Adults since I realized that the plays had a running theme of the conflicts of young people on the brink of adulthood, along with older people having trouble coping the traumas of everyday life.  After this first production I used the company to produce staged readings of famous plays I wanted to act in and produce since I didn’t have the time or further resources to produce another full production.  When the pandemic hit I started acting in other companies virtual performances and after participating in a number of festivals I realized that I could produce my own series.  I therefore decided to turn Almost Adults into an inclusive virtual company that focused on LGBTQ+ themes to give the series an identity where anyone could participate.

Are there any surprises — or setbacks — That have fueled you to continue to build it?

I was surprised that people from all over the world of various gender identities, sexual orientations, races, levels of experience, and geographic locations would be generous enough to lend their time to participate.  I was also surprised at how many audience members were interested in watching virtual queer theatre on Facebook, YouTube, and Zoom when there is so much content happening online at the present time.  This continued interest in creating an online community for those wanting to think outside the box to find ways to keep theatre alive during this current time of the pandemic has what’s fueled me to continue.

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

I teach acting, playwriting, screenwriting, film appreciation, and memoir.  My students teach and inspire me on how to best keep my creative work alive through their own examples.  The research and preparation that I put in to my classes gives me ideas for my own creative projects.

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

My parents took me to see Ingmar Bergman’s film of The Magic Flute on New Year’s Eve when I was 8-years-old.  I was terrified at first that the film was in subtitles.  But it led to a life-long love of Ingmar Bergman, Mozart, and art film in general.

Looking to 2021, what do you feel most excited about creatively?

In the hope that we’ll be able to return to live theatre at some point in 2021, I am looking forward to seeing what the community has learned creatively from this most recent time of the pandemic. I think that we will see a morphing of creative life as we once knew it with how we’ve had to adapt during the quarantine.  I’m excited to see how this hybrid way of creating performance will look.

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

I’m someone whose everyday life is what fuels my creativity.  Other aspects of my life (domestic, family, friends) are just as important to me as the creative work I do and therefore they go hand in hand.  I wouldn’t be able to be creative if I didn’t have a full life outside of the work I do.  This is why I look to stay in touch with what’s happening in the world as the plays I write I prefer to link connect to the big picture in some way.  My interest in producing and acting has helped me realize how I can contribute to the community in artistic ways other than just my writing.

What’s it like making art in your community? Tell us about Santa Fe!

Santa Fe is unique in that there is a large amount of exceptional talent with many professionals in the industry that choose to live in a smaller community rather than a big city like L.A. Its small size as a county makes it is easy to produce your own work.  However, it frequently seems at times like there is more talent than audience for which the challenge to find can be daunting.  But the level of support here is astonishing and I feel lucky to live in a community of like-minded people who are wanting to be creative for the sheer joy of doing it.

Who’s in your inner circle, and how do they support your work?

My inner circle consists of other actors, writers, directors, and producers who I have worked with before on various theatre and film projects.  Some friendships are contained to the specific project we’re working on while others have entered my life more in a personal way.  We frequently show up for each other’s performances and give constructive feedback when asked.  We even have formed writing groups for this purpose.  We share opportunities with each other and with the closest friends without the notion of envy but merely for support.

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?

The film Hotel Sorrento which I saw when it first came out over 25 years ago I had the opportunity to revisit through a streaming service available at my local library.  I was as emotionally impacted by it as when I first saw it.  The film is a successful adaptation of a play in that it retains its literary merits while find visual ways to demonstrate the story’s overall theme.  It deals with major issues that are relevant to me and my writing such as the personal vs. political, and how deep set family dynamics influences your life in ways that you don’t even realize.

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

I’m excited to continue the LGBTQ+ online play reading series I’ve created so I can connect with more artists that I haven’t worked with before and had the opportunity to showcase more great talent.  I was asked to participate in the South by Southwest 2021 mentoring program.  Their annual festival/conference will be happening virtually this year so I am honored to be able to participate in such an exciting platform.  I hope to have more of my plays performed either virtually or in person and would like to continue my acting work as well in whatever medium produces opportunity for my quirky talents.

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

Do the kind of projects you love to do, that give you the most pleasure, not the ones you think you SHOULD be doing.

How do you relax and unwind?

I find cooking very therapeutic as well as walking when the weather deems itself warm enough to do so.  I enjoy spending time with friends, family, and my partner streaming engaging content online or finding a compelling novel. Naps and meditation are always welcome into my life.  Streaming quality television shows and films of the past and present are an active part of my leisure life as well.

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

You can go to my website at or imdb page.  My plays are easy to find on Amazon.com and New Play Exchange.  If you want to watch videos from my company Almost Adults on YouTube.

Favorite dessert? Flower? Time of day? What makes you happy?

Favorite Dessert is a hot fudge brownie sundae.  Flower is a tulip.  Time of day is at dusk.  An overall sense of peace of mind, contentment, and serenity makes me happy.

 

Hi Erica!

What inspires your creativity?

One of the ways I get inspiration is by going to museums. I love the idea that beautiful objects are stored and cared for so we can look at them. I wrote an article about how I love to walk through museums, letting myself absorb the atmosphere, maybe reading the informational cards, maybe not.

I’m always trying new things in my artistic practices. I recently wrote my first terza rima, a poetic form Dante invented for The Divine Comedy. It was difficult, took weeks and dozens of drafts, but I finished it! In the interim, I discovered a topic for more poems: I’ve been longing to go somewhere, but since we’re quarantined due to the coronavirus pandemic, all I can do is write about places I miss.

Tell me about your work with Girls’ Voices Matter. Where did the idea come from?

Girls’ Voices Matter is the daughter of Media Poetry Studio, a media arts program I co-founded in 2014 in California. Media Poetry Studio was the result of a brainstorm I had with two other poet friends of mine. We were all Poets Laureate of our respective towns in the Bay Area, and we wanted to do something for young people in the area of the arts. We came up with the idea of a summer camp where teenaged girls could learn how make short films based on their own poetry. It was very successful and we ran two camps, one in 2015 and one in 2016.

In 2017 I moved to Eugene, Oregon. I spent some time just getting acclimated, and then worked with a business consultant named Kaya Singer, who helped me figure out how to refine the message of what I wanted to convey. Girls’ Voices Matter came out of that work: it’s more focused on storytelling, feminist film studies, and various forms of media. I’m lucky to have the talents of Dr. Claire Graman, whose specialty is women in film. She’s created several classes and is a wonderful teacher.

Are there any surprises — or setbacks — That have fueled you to continue to build it?

In the beginning there were nothing but setbacks. It seemed that no one was listening to my very important message about teen girls and media. It took a lot of work, and continues to, to get people to understand that we have a serious problem with the inequality in the film industry. There’s just one female director for every twenty-two male directors, for example, and speaking parts for women have actually declined in the past twenty years.

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

Luckily for me, this is what I do for a living, as well as freelance writing and teaching.

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

I was an art-nerd as a kid. I took piano lessons starting at age seven, wrote my first poem at age eight, and wanted to be a dancer. I still love music and dance, but writing is what stuck. In my late 40s, I got curious about photography and video, and now those are part of my creative practice as well. I love the combination of visual art and writing.

Looking ahead, what do you feel most excited about creatively?

I’m thrilled to be in the process of developing a series of courses for Girls’ Voices Matter, which we call our “Feminist Film Curriculum.” The curriculum will be available in 2021, will be taught online, and focuses on the history of women in film. There will also be a workshop on how to make a film in one week.

I’m writing more short personal essays and trying to get a poetry collection completed and sent out by the end of 2020. I also have some poetry videos I’d like to complete. I’m thrilled to have my first major screening at the Zebra Poetry Film Festival in Berlin in November. This is for a short video I made from a poem by Canadian poet, Al Rempel, with voice by Sandro Pecchiari from Italy. My youngest son made the music. So it’s a truly international effort, and I enjoyed making the video very much.

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

That’s not easy, ever. I think it’s especially hard for women, as we’re tasked with so many family responsibilities. I think of the sculptor Ruth Asawa and her many children, working at night when the kids were asleep. This robs your physical and emotional energies. When I was raising my kids and working full-time in the computer industry, I rarely had time for creative pursuits. Gradually my life changed: the kids grew up, my work life changed, and I was able to move writing back to center stage.

I have many of the small notebooks I wrote in during those busy years, full of tiny fragments of ideas next to birthday gift lists, Christmas cards, reminders to do so many things. Even then, I was trying to capture the ideas that went through my head. This makes me think of a quote from Ruth Asawa: “Sculpture is like farming. If you just keep at it, you can get a lot done.” That goes for any art, whether sculpture, writing, or dance.

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

I live in Eugene, Oregon, a very art-friendly town. One of the things I love about living here is the giant murals painted on walls all over the town. I don’t even have to go to a museum to see art—all I have to do is drive the streets of Eugene! However, I would make art no matter where I lived. I even think living in a less art-aware town would probably make me even more stubborn about making art. But I really like it that I’ve met so many writers, poets, painters, and others involved in the arts here in Eugene. My husband and I have a little joke about that: in Los Angeles, everyone’s an actor, even if they work at other jobs. In Eugene, everyone’s a poet!

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

My husband is my #1 supporter and fan. He’s extremely patient when I barge into his office and demand that he listen to the brilliant thing I just wrote. As a child growing up, my parents encouraged my brothers and I in art, music, reading and writing. My parents made the deliberate decision to not have a television in the house when we were kids, so we had to entertain ourselves. I think that’s one of the most important things they did for us. We had an old Wurlitzer piano that had belonged to my grandmother, weekly trips to the library, a backyard, and art supplies.

These days, my circle of writer friends sustains me. We share poems and see each other at readings. With poet Joan Dobbie, I help run the River Road Reading series, which is now online due to the pandemic.

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?

I’m in the middle of Sharon Olds’ latest book, Arias, and as always, I’m stunned at her ability to, in a just a few sentences, tell an entire story about her life. I binge-watched The Handmaid’s Tale recently and although much of it was hard to watch, I think it’s the best thing streaming right now. I was very moved by the exhibition “Dreams Before Extinction and Under the Earth, Over the Moon” featuring paintings by Naeemeh Naeemaei, which was at the Jordan Schnitzer museum in Eugene and was the last thing I saw there. I think it’s the tenderness of the paintings that struck me, and how the artist created a link between humans and animals.

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

Developing the Feminist Film Curriculum, writing essays and poems, and creating some classes for writers.

Any advice for someone just starting out in this artform?

There’s so much bad advice for people starting out in any art, and so much that’s simply not useful. It’s hard to be an artist. I won’t deny that. It takes an enormous amount of work, and an ability to withstand a lot of rejection. For example, my work is rejected between 75-90% of the time. This is after years of writing and sending my work out. I have a rule: I allow myself to feel sad for exactly ten minutes after receiving a rejection, and then I send the piece out again.

If you are just starting out, I would advise that you make friends with other people just starting out and study the work of those whose work you admire. And don’t give up. Try many things; fail many times. From failure comes creativity, and that’s how you get better. There are no overnight successes!

How do you relax and unwind?

Gardening is the best way for me to relax. I get exercise, fresh air and vegetables from my little patch of land, which makes me very happy, especially after a rejection! I also read, watch movies, and visit friends.

Where can we find your work? In print, and online, to read?

My website: www.ericagoss.com, where you’ll find links to recent writing and all of my books, and at Girls’ Voices Matter, where we post weekly about women in film, video lessons, creativity guides, and more.

Finally – Favorite dessert?

Crème brulee.

Rachael Carnes (RC) Hi Donna! Thanks so much for connecting. How the heck are you? We’re both writers and we’re also juggling the needs of kids or grown-up kids at home. How’s that all going? If I write half a page, I feel like a rockstar these days! How has Covid created obstacles for you? Any surprising new developments in your creative practice? 

Donna Hoke (DH) Ahhhh… yes. I went from getting ready to put the house on the market and be a full-time-ish writer with a half-empty nest to having all four kids at home and being convinced to get a kitten for everybody’s mental health. So to say there is very little me time is an understatement. In fact, I think I’m the only one in the house who doesn’t have a way to find productive escape. That said, we are doing just fine. We have food and means and health insurance and each other and we are mindful of and grateful for that.

And THAT said, I’m still a writer and want to write! For the first month or so, I was in a fog, but I committed to writing a play on my blog and sharing the process. That forced me to write about three pages a week because I knew people were expecting the next post (there are about 500 people following quietly as I know from Google Analytics lol) and lo! I finished a play. I’d chosen this one because of all my works in progress–which literally included a play about a family trapped inside during a virus–it was a comedy and I felt like maybe that’s something people would want to read. And I also felt comfortable sharing the process because it was a lark of a play.

Once the fog kind of lifted, I dusted off a one-person show and that’s the next thing I want to finish. And I have two little commissions for Buffalo companies I’m working on. My days are kind of back to routine, but I’m still interrupted constantly and I write best in an empty house so it’s an ongoing challenge. And maybe the biggest challenge is that I can’t seem to convince myself that there’s no rush, because there really isn’t. But I’m a workaholic so I don’t believe myself when I say it.

RC: I feel the need for an empty house to get writing done. That’s been my routine for a while, to write in the early mornings, when everyone’s asleep. But since Covid, wow, we all seem to be just around all the time! I leaned into the Baby Animal panacea, too, procuring a baby kitten and a new puppy. Maybe that’s why my mornings aren’t quiet anymore? Ha. At least I wake now to cute puppy energy and playful kitten goofiness instead of the dread I’d been experiencing. 

I echo your gratitude: A comfortable home, a big backyard, food on the table, simply having company, all these things are simple gifts that I appreciate every day. But there’s still this moment each day, where the totality of our collective losses, the insanity of our political moments and this conjoined pandemic sink in, and it’s hard to shake it. The puppy helps.

With theatres shuttered, the art form can feel a little like it’s in suspended animation, yet development continues. I feel really busy with collaborations and projects. Are you writing for now – Zoom theatre stuff – Or for when we can get back on stages, or both? How do you feel about Zoom Life, as a new medium? I’m embracing it, but gosh, I miss being in theatres!

DH: Yes, we probably talk about COVID every night at dinner in some capacity–but this is probably the longest string of family dinners we’ve had since the kids were much younger. I also haven’t traveled in four months after having been gone once or twice a month for the past several years. And everybody seems to go through their down phases at different times. I think we’re all looking forward to the kitten, but need to get the other cat on a stricter food schedule first–step one of the Jackson Galaxy introduce-a-new-cat plan!

But yes, I am really busy! The magazine I work for has resumed printing so I have that work again. My crosswords for Soap Opera Digest never stopped. I’ve had private crossword clients, as well as people wanting script feedback, even now. Then my own work. But it feels like ten times more than usual because I never have steady-state time to work. I also share an office with my one daughter, so there’s no real alone time. If I could get up early, that would be great, but we are all night people and with everyone here, we naturally gravitate toward a later schedule. Getting to bed at midnight is early and, of course, because there’s no real reason to get up. I’ve been getting a full eight hours every night. Oddly, that has affected my ability to fall asleep, which is frustrating because I’ve never had that problem.

I have not written a single Zoom-specific thing and that hasn’t seemed to affect my busy-ness. I’m not a super fast adapter prolific writer and I do feel like Zoom plays are temporary. I think Zoom will remain for developing work, and maybe streaming for those who can’t get to theater, but I just can’t believe it’s ever going to be the preferred art form. I’ve had quite a few Zoom readings since this all started, and attended quite a few as well, and they are of varying quality. The “production” I had recently was a nice use of the platform but, again, that play wasn’t written specifically for Zoom.

The two commissions I have are both alternate ideas–one a five-minute  monologue that will be filmed and released in a unit with fourteen others. The other is an audio play and I really got into that. Audio is such a different medium, more related to screenwriting actually, so there’s a lot of freedom and you have to move more quickly; my ten-minute play has seven scenes which I feel is necessary to keep listener attention but also works because there’s no down time for scene transitions. I’ve listened to a lot of them and so many are just ten minutes of dialogue and they’re not as dynamic; it feels like a wasted opportunity. I have a meeting Monday about a larger, ongoing audio project and I hope it happens because I’m really excited about it. I’m much more excited about audio as the medium of this era than Zoom–and it also seems longer lasting, because podcasts are still on the rise. Have you tried it at all?

RC: I have attempted audio plays; I have one that’s a longer one-act, and a few shorter pieces. One was a stage play that I adapted for radio. My writing is often very physical, like, weird crazy action built into the dialogue; I think it comes from my years as a dancer/choreographer. I’m expressive/bossy about designing the physicalized play, so audio is an interesting format. My short play “In Training” is written for a dark theatre –like, pitch black– and it’s going to be shared via audio podcast soon. I love listening to audio plays, but it’s not a space I’ve written for much. 

I hear you on the Zoom play phenomenon. I’m grateful for real-time collaboration, and I do enjoy how distances and time zones are melting. I’ve written some short plays and monologues for the Zoom platform, and I’ve been having fun redeveloping a couple of plays for the stage, for Zoom/webisodes. I took a course through the Lighthouse Writer’s Workshop recently, in screenwriting and dramatic writing, and it piqued my interest to learn more about teleplays, another genre I know nothing about! Like everything in this art form, I get curious, and then try to learn more. 

Your busy home sounds a lot like ours. I’m never alone! I miss having new experiences and meeting new people… I traveled almost six weeks for playwriting last year: NYC twice, Cleveland, Kansas City, Los Angeles, twice, Nashville (Sewanee), Seattle, Portland, Chicago, New Haven, even Cambridge U.K. – When both our plays were given a reading, and I decided to make it a holiday! Gosh, I miss travel. Now I feel excited when I go to the grocery store. 

The commissions you’re working on sound cool! What are the projects, and what’s it like making theatre in Buffalo?

DH: I’m grateful for the ability to collaborate nationally as well. My recent virtual HEARTS OF STONE had people from Oregon, Michigan, Kentucky, New York State, North Carolina–that was really cool. For a reading of BRILLIANT WORKS OF ART, I was able to put together actors who had previously done it even though they were in different locations. I’m glad people still want my name in the mix, and I love the democracy of theaters using NPX to enable direct negotiation with playwrights. But I don’t want to do it forever. 

I miss traveling, too, because I felt more like a working playwright. I think I made 18 trips in 2019 and ten of them were to New York. It’s an easy flight from here; I’ve actually gone back and forth in one day before. When COVID hit, I was two days from leaving for France for a ten-day writers’ retreat with other playwrights, which would have been big for me as I haven’t been out of the country except Canada (which is in my backyard) since I worked for a travel magazine in my twenties. I decided two days before not to go and about half still went and were there when things got crazy. I also had a month-long residency in Hamilton, NY that got canceled and a Screenwriting for Playwrights residency that hopefully is just postponed. Attending conferences isn’t the same online. But… I’m taking the pause. The travel part of traveling is a drag and some things have been just as effective online.

DH (con’t) On the flip side, the availability of stuff that wasn’t in a pre-COVID world is cool. I drop in on DG events all over. I’m taking a class with Primary Stages. I want to take advantage of that stuff while it lasts, though I suspect online DG events may be the wave of the future because attendance is so much better!

So the commissions are from two theaters in Buffalo who are trying to put together alternate-to-live programming for the upcoming season. Alleyway commissioned fifteen playwrights to write five-minute monologues based at locations in Buffalo and they are working with a film studio to film them all; they’ll be put together under the title CURRENTS: 716 and streamed 11 times over a normal run course, and people can choose a time to watch and there’s a sliding ticket price. The other (and this isn’t public until September 1 so I don’t know when this will be on your website so I won’t name the theater) theater commissioned six playwrights to write ten-minute audio plays under a specific theme that aligns with something they did live before. Those will be released to their podcast in November. (If you want to hear my table read, we’re doing it Wednesday at 7:00 EST, and I can give you a Zoom link; it shouldn’t take too long.)

Buffalo is a tough place to be a playwright. We have no regional theater, no MFA program in anything let alone playwriting (The first acting MFA will begin in fall 2021) despite having a zillion colleges, no nationally recognized development program, no theater-led workshops, very little commissioning of full-length work. All of that means we don’t really get new blood or new work, so while the theater community is active, it’s not vibrant, not dynamic. A lot of familiar things based on what people want to act in or direct. “New” most often means most recently from New York rather than developed and created in Buffalo. 

I think I’ve made the best of it, though, and also been lucky, probably luckier than most. I love my theater community. I have so many artists who are willing to help me develop things, even if they don’t get produced here. I’m on the Artie committee. I’m the theater writer for Buffalo Spree. I became involved with the Guild by repping this region. And, because there was a time when Road Less Traveled Productions did have a workshop, that’s how I got my start when they gave me first-ever production in 2010. Since then, RLTP has produced two more of my plays and a fourth is postponed to November 2021. I had ten-minutes in festivals at Subversive, seven times at Alleyway, and four times at Buffalo United Artists, where I founded BUA Takes Ten: GLBT Short Stories. The AD at BUA asked if I could expand one of those tens to a full-length and he produced my first full-length in Buffalo outside of RLTP. I had a commission from an ex-pat in San Jose to write ONCE IN MY LIFETIME: A Buffalo Football Fantasy, which he produced here. And I had a commission to write PAST MIDNIGHT: A Visit With Larry and Viv, which is supposed to be produced September 2021. 

But it also took a long time for things like that to start happening. Networking, visibility, community building, service, and probably the fact that I didn’t wait for Buffalo to produce me, which is what I try to tell all the playwrights here: there’s a whole world out there. Even if you do get produced in Buffalo, you could wait a long time before the next opportunity comes along. Don’t wait for it. I know you know what I mean because you get produced everywhere. On the other hand, you also get a lot of action in Oregon, but you have a much more dynamic and arts-centered theater environment there it seems.

Even if I could move, at this point, I doubt I would. I’ve talked to a lot of people in New York and they agree that at this stage of my career, it probably wouldn’t help me much to be there. The move toward curated rental and self-production is probably not one in which I’d rise up. There is also a part of me that feels like I started this so late and I’m so grateful for any successes I’ve had because, as I said, even with any potential gender, age, or geographical limitations, I’ve gotten to do a LOT, certainly more than some people without any of those and I’m so grateful for it. If anything, I wish I’d started in the days of snail mail submissions, when you actually could get discovered sending something over the transom. I totally have the stamina for all those post-office visits! But all I really want now is to be able to write more-or-less full-time but that’s on hold until post-COVID.

What about you? What are the goals you have?

RC: As I was reading your response, I was nodding my head ‘yes’ to so much of it. We’re on a similar path, though I just started the journey a few years later than you. Late in life, though (46?) to embark on a new art form. I can’t complain. It’s been fun to land where I do, whether a festival or conference or production wherever. I just try to enjoy it all. When I get weird, when I feel pressure to do this, that or the other, it stops being fun. I try to stay in a mindset that allows for opportunity and shakes it off when they don’t come. (Because, even though I’ve had my share of ‘hits’ – of course that comes with many times more rejections. That’s just the deal!)

My goals during Covid? I dunno. Get through the day? The week? The month. Supporting the family is a challenge. I feel like we’ve gone back in time. I find myself cooking, cleaning up, taking care of custodial and community duties, way more, like when my kids were small. My husband is great, does a lot, it’s just – with all of us home 24/7 – the kitchen, the bathrooms, the spaces are always in a state of entropy. It’s kinda getting to me, does it show? Haha (Welp.)

Artistically, I am grateful for development opportunities that can still continue now, over Zoom. My play WINDBERRY CREEK – you read the first draft last fall – continues to grow and be nurtured by one different theatres. That’s been so helpful, because for that one or two-week time, my mind can focus in on a deeper, wider process. Covid is tricky. Living with constant health and safety issues, the economic pressures that the disease creates (I just got laid off), plus this dysfunction, high-stakes political gambit, are pulling focus away from my work. I still write everyday, but I don’t find I can drop right into the frequency that writes these big, weird, dense, full-length plays. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe in my exhaustion and anxiety, I’ll finally write something more produceable! 

Big Picture, like you, I want to write. I want to be paid to write, or to be in a creative team of writers, developing a show or a film. Earlier in Covid, I started writing a novel, but it’s terrible. I was boring myself. I do better with dialogue than purply prose. 

RE the post office, same. I miss the fellas who work at my shipping store. We had big philosophical chats. I hope they’re okay. 

When you look back on this year, say, five years from now, how do you think Covid and quarantine will have influenced your creative practice?

DH: I didn’t necessarily mean COVID goals, but writing goals. What you want to do or try or aim for. I’d been working toward the writer-life goal for a while but that’s on hold. I always have such a list of projects I want to work on. 

My husband has been doing a lot because he’s actually not working (he’s a Philharmonic musician so he’s literally doing nothing, and, as I said before, I’m a workaholic so he’s been doing a lot of cooking etc.) But I have never been someone who writes every day because I’m always being pulled away and because I write best in an empty house. You are so insanely prolific that I just marvel; in the short time you’ve been writing plays, your body of work is insane and you’ve had so many successes, which is just amazing and I feel like they just keep coming. Plus you do such amazing service as well; I don’t know how you do it all!

Given that during this time, I can’t be too picky, I hope that I can learn to write with more distraction. Be more disciplined about getting things done on a timeline. I had someone off NPX ask me if I had any screenplays and writing one has been on my to-do list forever so I’d love to do that; I think I have a play idea that might make a better screenplay… So many ideas, so little time… 

A lot of my plays stem from presenting those kinds of challenges to myself. I wanted to write a two-hander and that was FLOWERS IN THE DESERT.  I wanted to write a play in real time and that was THE WAY IT IS. I wanted to have a Christmas play and try to write a comedy so I wrote CHRISTMAS 2.0. I wanted to write an all-female cast play and that was FOUR DOORS DOWN. I wanted to write a TYA play so I adapted MEET ME AT THE GATES, MARCUS JAMES. Then I wanted to write a classic adaptation so I wrote LITTLE WOMEN… NOW. I want to write a screenplay so… I feel like giving myself those challenges forces me to write in a different way and learn something new but I also feel like they give me a fresh approach.

Which ideas do you tend to grab?

RC: I love how you’re leaning into trying these different projects! I’ve been curious about teleplays and screenplays, too. Right now, I think the most satisfying thing, the thing that makes me forget I’m in a Zoom meeting, is collaborating with creative teams on full-length stuff. I’ve cranked out a lot of plays, and generally prefer to crack into a fresh project, but Covid is shaving down my time and energy. So, Covid and creative goals are kinda combined right now, or at least related, because I feel like I have to help my family be more or less okay, and then I can write. And there are some days, when getting to “okay” is just a longer distance.

When we get to the other side of this pandemic, what will you want to retain, in your artistic practice? And what would you like to forget?

DH: If I ever attain it, I’d like to retain an ability to work in any environment. But today, I was trying to do revisions on a play and I kept getting interrupted and I was so frustrated and ready to cry. Like I just wanted to check into a hotel room and catch up. So I haven’t even yet reached the thing I want to attain lol.

I hope that a project I’m starting soon will continue. I hope that learning new skills for audio and screen plays remain useful. I hope I retain the relationships I’ve made with new theaters. And I hope I retain the memory that things don’t have to be urgent. The things I want to forget are all things beyond any artistic practice–the anxiety and stress and sadness mostly. I did read that people who live through collective trauma like this rarely retain the symptoms of it, so that’s hopeful. Unfortunately, that still makes us among the fortunate ones.

RC: Yeah, the adaptability to environmental shifts is so resonant with me. Revisions require a lot of focus, to hold all those threads and complete edits in that creative cognitive space. Interruptions kill that flow and are exhausting. That’s why I’m shying away from bigger projects right now – With everyone home all the time, I can develop existing work with teams, but I don’t have the attention to think Big which is what I need to write a first draft of a new longer work. I don’t know when the house will ever be quiet again! 2022? 2023? Waaaaaa

Like you, I’m focusing on gratitude: My home is a sanctuary right now. (A noisy sanctuary, full of kids and pets!) But I’ve never appreciated our space, and our backyard, more than I do now. I’m grateful for food on the table, for my family’s health. Stress and sadness is real, and I’ve hit deep pockets of both. The puppy’s MVP in my life, he knows his little job is to keep me smiling. 

Maybe last question? 

What’s giving you hope, inspiration and energy right now?

DH: Hope… that our numbers here are still pretty low, so I feel like people are trying? And also that even Fauci says a vaccine is sooner than we might have thought. I don’t dare hope for the election results I want. I’m inspired by the new projects I have going, even the little ones. The actor I wanted for my monologue project just accepted so that’s just a little bump; I can’t wait to see what he does with it. And energy? Honestly, probably just the fact that once my sleep settled down, I’ve been able to get eight hours of sleep a night. That’s probably giving me more energy than I know because I can’t remember the last time I had that kind of consistency. You?

RC: Happy for your monologue project! Yeah, those little moments feel uplifting. A short play reading, a new connection. I think I’m going to focus on Zoom plays with commercial appeal, for kids. So many kids at home – But they still need theatre. 

My biggest inspiration is my kids. They’re losing more than me. Not starting High School? Not going away to college? Can’t see friends? This pandemic is hardest on younger people, and yet my kids have continued to inspire me with their resilience. And when anyone’s having a hard day, there’s always the puppy or the kitten or the puppy AND the kitten. 

The baby animals are really pulling their weight. They’re getting us through.