In the meantime:

Dan LeFranc received the 2010 New York Times Outstanding Playwright Award for Sixty Miles to Silver Lake.  We were there to watch him shake Arthur Sulzberger’s hand and be interviewed for 15-20 minutes at the New York Times Center.  It was really nice.  And it was great to have a mini-Sixty Miles reunion and see Dane DeHaan, Joe Adams, Sarah Benson, Tania Camargo and Dane Laffrey.  But we missed Annie Kauffman, because she’s off directing her fancy-schmancy play.

Go, Heidi Schreck.  2009 P73 Playwriting Fellow Heidi Schreck (who is also uhm an actor – heh) is getting the Theatre World Award.  Also!  There Are No More Big Secrets – which she wrote while being the fellow – is having a reading at MTC’s 7@7 on May 24 directed by none-other-than Kip Fagan.  (We won’t be able to be there b/c we have a reading that same night for Sam Marks’s new play directed by Sam Gold.)  And, by the way, congrats to one of our other favorite actors: Keira Keely (who also has done readings of There Are No More Big Secrets) for her Theatre World Award.

The first play I wrote as a teenager was called TALK OF PLEASANT THINGS and I directed it at my high school, much to the detriment of my willingness and enthusiasm to show my face at reunions.  It was about, among other things, AIDS, alcoholism, and abandonment.

When I got to college, I wrote a play with parts for twelve actors.  Eight of these parts had about six lines apiece.  This is when I got my first lesson in “unproducability.” Rolin Jones, a phenomenal writer who mentored me through the process of writing this play, mentioned the possibility of one or two actors playing multiple roles.  I was like, “What?” and he was like, “Yeah.”

And so eight parts became two.  And the play got a lot stronger and better because of it (not that anyone will ever get to read it, see it, or even touch it).

Somehow, though, I’ve forgotten that lesson in writing this new play.  I find myself with nine characters and counting.  I’m hoping there will come a time somewhere down the line where I can whittle some of these people away, but it’s hard to write about a family without including everybody.

At least I’ve lightened up a little when picking subjects to write about.

Back to writing DEAD CHILDREN now.

A quick introduction perhaps?  My name is Eliza Clark, I’m a huge fan of Page 73 and I feel so incredibly lucky to be working with them this year on my play, Dead Children.   I was a member of Interstate 73 last year and every meeting felt like one step closer to being a working playwright.  In fact, I’m pretty sure one of the “notes” I gave Tommy Smith after a reading of one of his plays was, “This play is so awesome I feel like you just gave me a lesson in how to be a good writer.”  I’m not bragging about my ability to give constructive notes, but I am really good at expressing how much I love fellow writers.  This company gives me an immense amount of hope about the future of theater, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

I’m currently living in Los Angeles, writing for a new TV show that is going to be airing on AMC starting August 1^st.  The show is called Rubicon and it’s a conspiracy thriller in the style of those great seventies movies like Three Days of the Condor.  I’m currently in the midst of writing the first draft of Act One of Dead Children and simultaneously working on the first draft of Episode Seven of the show.

I’ve never actually written two things simultaneously, and I’ve never ever written for television, so this process has been illuminating to say the least.  For me, the process of writing involves a lot of self-loathing, procrastination, and sadness, followed eventually by fulfillment, elation, and treats (including but not limited to cupcakes).  I’m currently experiencing some of the restless sadness that comes with beginning a new play – I’m still getting to know these characters, and I’m letting them breathe and talk a little too much.  The pages I do have favor certain characters more than others (those I have a better handle on), so much so that the play has a bit of a limp.  I have a feeling that the first draft might be eight hundred pages before I whittle it down to a slim ninety.

Perhaps playwrights should never blog.  I promise to try not to use this blog as a veiled message to those who will be reading my early pages to go easy on me.  Though, if they choose to see it that way, I won’t be disappointed.  Next Tuesday will be the first time that Asher and Liz see pages of Dead Children, and I hope they will be able to see the early kernels of a play amongst the wreckage of my broad strokes ideas.  I’m starting to see a play in here somewhere, which is encouraging.  Even more encouraging is the deadline I’m working toward, and the people on the other side of the country who keep me tethered to the theater while I’m swimming through television’s waters.

Second, much Internet-noise on an article in the Times today about Todd London’s book Outrageous Fortune.  We haven’t read it it — the article will certainly increase sales (I hope, for Todd’s sake).   The article links to a review of the book by the theater critic Chris Jones; the most interesting part of the review is the online commentary that it has solicited.  On the whole, Jones’s review doesn’t seem very thoughtful or helpful (we can’t really judge, though, since we haven’t read Outrageous Fortune yet).   There’s much to say — and much that has been said — about making a living as a playwright.  Sadly, it’s virtually impossible — any playwright (established and emerging) can tell you that.    The truth, though, is that this reality applies pretty much across the board in the non-profit theater world.  Actors, directors and administrators, for the most part, have a tough time making ends meet financially.  The theater business model (from a non-profit perspective — we can’t really speak to about the one in respect of commercial theater) is one that makes little sense today (at least when you’re working in this sector in NYC).  Or has it ever made sense?  We’re non-profit.  I have friends who work for other non-profit (non-theater related) organizations and they face similar financial conundrums; they can’t work in their field *and* live in New York without taking on freelance jobs.  So maybe this issue (the one re: making a livable wage) applies to non-profit industries, as a whole.  That’s not to diminish the argument that one can’t make a living from playwriting and that the system needs to be reformed to support these writers and to prevent these writers from running off to L.A. or law school or business school, etc.

David Adjmi posted a link to the Times article today and Jason Grote provided a very funny/sad  response.  It reads:

“…Staffs usually aren’t paid very well, but artistic directors at the bigger institutions often have ridiculously huge salaries commensurate to those organizations’ budgets. Just like most other corporations, nonprofits, and universities in this goddamn country.

And in terms of audience appeal: does Eustis really think that anyone wants to see anything Suzan-Lori Parks has written in the past decade? What no one is acknowledging is that “bad plays” are often the result of tacking on a big name to sell tickets and ignoring artistic merit. Risky, “unknown” playwrights often do the best work because they still actually care about what they’re doing.

But I agree that we playwrights should stop whining. I think we should quit. Or, more precisely, I think I should quit — I wouldn’t presume to tell anyone else what to do. But I’m definitely ready to join 99% of the rest of the country in not giving a shit about theater.”

\”Heidi Schreck on Life\”

Performances for Sixty Miles to Silver Lake by Dan LeFranc and directed by Anne Kauffman start in 11 days.  The theater is getting prep’ed for the actors’ arrival on-stage this coming Thursday.  First run-through today.  Engines are revved up — and we’re all ready to go.  Don’t forget to buy your tickets today!

After reading over 200 applications, we have a new fellow: Heidi Schreck.  This is an always unbelievably exciting time for us.  It’s also a bit sad – since it means that our time working with Tommy Smith (as our P73 Playwriting Fellow) has come to an end.  Thankfully, Tommy’s in Interstate 73 this year so we’ll get to see him for a little bit longer.

And now it’s Heidi’s turn (cue Gypsy).   We narrowed it down to 6 unbelievable finalists and it’s always a huge struggle to pick one.  But here she is, boys.  (Must. Stop. The. Gypsy. Reference.)   Most people know Heidi’s work as an actor.  Very few know her work as a writer – it’s tremendous (her writing).  And smart.  And funny.  And we can’t wait to work with her.   So we begin today.

The problem with expressing your opinions as a playwright is that you will never get produced, ever. At least it feels that way. Especially us up-and-comers — we are told to develop our voices boldly, but this doesn’t actually mean that we should offer our opinion about how the business of theatre is currently running. (Unless you’re Mike Daisey, then you can do anything you want, and God bless him.)

The atmosphere of playwrights offering frank commentary feels like 2003, during the Bush Administration — there is a whole lot wrong, but we’re too afraid to offer our version of the truth. I wish I could publish half the conversations I had last week with playwrights and actors and directors — frustration and confusion and disillusion as toothless irrelevant small-minded productions pass quietly in front of audiences, much better television shows flickering in the back of their minds.

Not every play should be as aggressive as “Blasted”, that amazing play with an amazing production currently playing at Soho Rep. But we can do better. “Blasted” is perhaps the best example of why we go to theatre — and it is not to *enjoy* ourselves. This is a tradition that started with thousands of Greeks watching Oedipus gouge his eyes out. And the Greeks were like, “Now I’ve learned something about my attraction to my mother.” They were surely shocked, and they may have been outraged, but they were definitely stirred, definitely unable to go back to they way they thought previously, and that’s what theatre is for.

For me, “Blasted” felt like the end of theatre, the end of the conversation that started with The Greeks. It unfolds like a regional theatre play gone to hell, a Fuck You to anyone who would ever want to sit through another Ayckbourn comedy or measured play about Iraq (take your pick; there are at least a dozen playing right now to snoozing audiences comparing the the on-stage drama to the New York Times headlines or that conversation they had with an ACTUAL veteran, i.e. a frustrating maddening 2 hours of wasted time.) I’m used to walking out of a theatre and having that annoying 15 minute “checklist” conversation with my date, then immediately forgetting what I saw. I walked out of “Blasted” nearly a month ago with a violent cloud above my head, unable to speak to anyone, and am still visited by its imagery — Marin Ireland’s terrifying seizures, the loving blowjob ending in a beating, the wild human eyes of Louis Cancelmi’s soldier, Reed Birney violently cradling the soldier like it was the last physical thing on earth, the last line (“Thank you”).

That the play has been sold out for nearly its whole run and been extended twice is a big Middle Finger to everyone who shies away from producing aggressive work that provokes an audience. The old adage of “our subscribers won’t like it” has been rendered false. We always knew it wasn’t true. From here on out I’m lumping people who profess this opinion with the people who said Obama couldn’t be president — the fear of success overwhelming the possibility of change. You know you’re wrong. Have courage. Do the plays you want. The audience will love you for it.

I’m not one of those cranks who rant about the Death of Theatre, which is sort of like ranting about the Death of Drawing — will humans ever *not* pretend like they are other people to one another to make a point about humanity? But, like volcanoes, theatre has a habit of going dormant. I dare you to identify a play of note written in the English language between 1800 and 1900. You will not be able to. Why? For a hundred years, audiences were obsessed with spectacle, Equestrian pageantry, nautical dramas. That is, plays that had explosions in them and horses on stage and huge fake ships sinking into the sets. “Quantum of Solace” made 70 million this weekend. Welcome to the next century.

We shot this video for “Transition” but ended up not using it in the final show. I now present it to the p73 blog. Enjoy!

directed by Tommy Smith and Reggie Watts
shot by Austin Elston
sound by Emily Gallagher
editing by Joby Emmons
featuring Dana Acheson, Jess Adcock, Afreen Akhter, Raniah Al-Sayed, Ben Beckley, Aaron Cedolia, Dan Cozzens, Mary Guiteras, Nicholas Hoover, Chris Illing, Mark Karafin, Nick Lewis, Christopher Loar, Michael Markham, Stas May, Sylvia Mincewicz, Nana Mensah, Kyra Miller, Aimee Mullins, Erica Newhouse, John Pizzolato, Jessica Pohly, Livia Scott, Jen Taher, Han Tang, Geraldine Visco

We sent out an email to our subscribers today, announcing a couple of great stuff.  If you didn’t get the email, (a) you should subscribe to our email list and (b) you should read the post below. 

In the meantime, some cool news from present and past fellows:

- Tommy Smith’s on the West Coast working on “Transition” with Reggie Watts.
- Krista Knight (2007) is off to get her MFA in playwriting from UCSD.  We’re very sad about this.
- Jason Grote (2006) just opened his play “Maria/Stuart” at the Woolly Mammoth in DC.
- Quiara Hudes (2005) is hard at work on a multiple exciting (top secret) projects.  Also, she’s moving back to NYC (which makes us very happy).
- Kirsten Greenidge (2003-2004) just got back from her residency at Sundance this summer.

Lots going on with our fellows.  And below’s the text of our message.  Enjoy.

“Dear Page 73 Friend,

We’re not going to lie: We’re pretty heartbroken to see this summer end.  But, at the same time, we can’t wait for the start of fall!

Here’s why (in no particular order — cue the trumpets):  Dan LeFranc, SIXTY MILES TO SILVER LAKE, Tommy Smith, SEXTET, and Interstate 73.

 

1.    DAN LEFRANC.  We’ve known Dan for about two years now and are thrilled to team up with award-winning Soho Rep to produce Dan’s play SIXTY MILES TO SILVER LAKE directed by OBIE Award-winning director Anne Kauffman (God’s Ear; The Thugs).  Not only will this be the world premiere of SIXTY MILES TO SILVER LAKE, but also it will be Dan’s first professional production.

 

When we first read SIXTY MILES TO SILVER LAKE, we were blown away by this fast, anxious and funny play that looks at how a lifetime can pass in the sixty miles between a boy’s soccer practice and his divorced father’s new apartment.  Performances are November 25 to December 21.    Stay tuned  for more information about the world premiere of SIXTY MILES TO SILVER LAKE!

 

 

2.    TOMMY SMITH.  This October, get your socks knocked off by a workshop of SEXTET by 2008 P73 Playwriting Fellow Tommy Smith. 

Structured liked a choral piece, SEXTET  looks at the obsessive, devouring and doomed love lives of composers Carlo Gesualdo, Peter Tchaikovsky and Arnold Schoenberg and at the destructive effects of their single-minded artistic pursuits.  The workshop features a cast of 9 and will be directed by Davis McCallum (Elliot, A Soldier’s Fugue; Queens Boulevard).

 

3.    INTERSTATE 73.  After last year’s successful launch of our newest program “Interstate 73″, this October, we’re going to start work with new Interstate 73 members Sarah Hammond, Josh Malmuth, Molly Rice, Matt Schatz, Tommy Smith and Cori Thomas.  Keep your eyes open for public presentations of new works by these extraordinary six writers.

See?  It’s going to be a great fall.

We’re also proud to announce that Page 73 is the recepient of a grant from the Rockefeller Brothers Fund.  This grant will go towards enhancing Page 73’s infrastructure and will help Page 73 expand its contributions to early-career playwrights…”