Audio Arcana

Last month I did an interview with Marta Zekan over at Classical KING's Arts Channel.

Marta's one of the good ones. At a time when arts coverage has been steadily shrinking everywhere else, the Arts Channel is one place that not only features in-depth interviews with artists, but has its feet firmly planted in the Seattle Arts Scene. And a lot of their success is due to the passion, smarts and laid-back interview technique of Marta, whose genuine enthusiasm for the arts translates into some fun radio.

Classical KING is in the process of making the switch from for-profit to public radio, a move that everyone agrees will eventually be great for their listeners, but is of course fraught with anxiety about what and who will be carried over. Personally, I hope that they bring over the Arts Channel exactly as is--only with a larger budget. If you want to know why, try them out--makes for some great at-your-leisure listening, and you'll learn more about what's going on in the Seattle scene in an afternoon than you'd believe is possible!

Here's a link to the interview: http://www.king.org/pages/7367807.php. Just scroll down to the bottom of the page and press "Play." And check out some of the other interviews as well--some of which are my colleagues, and a couple of which I engineered via my day job at The 5th!

Opening Weekend Magic

Arcana opened on Friday to a sold-out house. The next couple of nights we've had smaller crowds, but they've been equally enthusiastic, and we're getting good word of mouth. We'll see what the reviews are like, but in some ways it doesn't matter--everyone involved knows we have a really good show.

This hasn't been a trouble-free experience. There were a lot of cracks. Misunderstandings, scheduling nightmares, last-minute substitutions and late additions. But a little bit of theatre whiffle dust drifted into the cracks and it all has worked out well.

Fringe theatre has a lot of challenges. Everyone's working a day job (except for these days, when, alas, some of us are unemployed), there's little money for sets and even less for artists, and as for getting the word out, you're mostly reliant on free publicity because for advertising you have absolutely no money whatsoever.

But somehow, none of that feels like such a big deal when you've got a good show.

We've got a really good show, folks. You can wait till you hear about it from someone else, but I'm telling you, this one's special.

Man, I've been tremendously lucky during this whole project. Thanks not only to all of the artists and theatre staff who made this possible, but thanks to all of the friends and loved ones who supported me during an exhausting but rewarding summer.

I'm keeping away from rehearsal rooms now for a couple of months.

But I'll be back seeing "Arcana" next weekend. It's too much fun not to.

Our Audience Member

We had our dress rehearsal tonight.

In the house were five directors and one audience member. Which means that if he didn't like the show, we could have beaten him up.

But he did, and we didn't.

My good friend Yussef El Guindi did us the courtesy of being our audience this evening. I've known Yussef for over a decade and it's been a delight watching his fame grow. He's always been one of my favorite playwrights, and now there are a lot of people who agree with me.

Yussef's probably best known for his political plays. As an Arab-American, he's had an interesting decade. I remember him talking about what it was like to fly in the weeks and months after 9/11/2001, and it's been fascinating watching his plays turn from clever thrillers and neo-Shavian comedies into pieces that take on dark issues like interrogation of Americans of Arab descent (Back of the Throat, Language Rooms) and politically adept comedies that take on issues like Hollywood stereotypes (Jihad Jones and the Kalsnikov Babes) without becoming bitter.

He is a man of scrupulous manners, outstanding conversation and a laser-like critical eye. I, and more specifically several of my plays, owe him much.

After the performance one of the actresses, Sarah Rose Nottingham, came up to me. "I loved our audience!" she said. I laughed--she knew that aside from the directors there was an audience of one. But she was serious. "He watched. He really focused on us. I could feel him in the house."

It's true. If you've got the right person as your audience, even if it's just one person, theater happens.

Of course, we're hoping for better houses most nights. Let's see how this weekend goes.

The Healing Power of Pizza

Pizza is perfect food.

This was explained to me once by a 10 year old, and I happen to agree with him. No one dislikes pizza. Friends who are lactose intolerant scrape off the cheese, and those who can’t eat gluten seek out non-wheat recipes. To say “I don’t like pizza” is not just un-American, it’s oddly inhuman. (I think it’s the first question that they should have asked the replicants in Blade Runner: “do you like pizza?”)

At Tuesday night’s rehearsal the directors came in to see our stage partially covered in a series of sponged gold wedges. This, it turns out, was due to a miscommunication between our stage manager and one of the set designers about the need to “texture” the stage. It was a worthy attempt, but coming late in the game it was a surprise and not a particularly pleasant one. “What’s with all the pizza slices on the set?” said one of the directors. Some low-key grousing began, and at about the third mention of “pizza” one of the actors wandered out.

“Pizza?” he asked.

“We were just talking about the set,” I answered.

“Pizza! That’s what I want!” said another actor, peering out.

“Where’s the pizza?” said another, appearing.

The rumors of pizza were starting to become critical, so we had to explain that no, there was no pizza, and yes, we were continuing on with the tech as soon as we got the current sound dilemma solved.

Last night I ordered two big pizzas from Mad Pizza to be delivered to the theatre. It was still Tech Week, and our rehearsal still didn’t finish till nearly 10:30. But there were no more pizza slices on our stage, and thanks in part to the healing power of cheese, meat and vegetables covering a disc of cooked dough, the general mood transformed from somewhere between “Desperate” and “Despairing” to “Hopeful” and “Helpful.”

Thanks, pizza.

Accidental Audiences at Bumbershoot

We had a performance of my short play “Wild River” up last night at Bumbershoot, with Brandon as the priest and Anthony as the journalist, as part of our “Best Of” designation for the “Eat My Shorts” Play Festival. Mary Cutler, the director of “Wild River” for “Arcana,” has switched the boys in their two roles, so when the show premieres on Friday at Open Circle as part of a full evening of short pieces, it’ll be significantly different.

“Wild River” originally premiered on the Center House stage about three years ago as part of 24 Hour Theatre and it was a blast bringing it back to the same venue. It was also fun, though challenging, to see it in front of a Bumbershoot audience. As anyone who’s taken a fringe theatre show to Bumbershoot can tell you, it’s a whole different experience. Fringe theatre audiences consist of fans of the theatre company, friends of the actors and artists, and those brave members of the general public who enjoy unconventional work in small black box venues. (In marketing meetings we call these people “early adapters” and “innovators” and we covet them mightily.)

But Bumbershoot theatre audiences are, near as I can tell, made up of people who have grown bored of waiting in line for music and stand-up comedy and have just wandered in looking for something different. It’s an accidental audience, by and large, and you never know quite how they’ll react to anything. They’ll leave mid-show. They’ll laugh at drama and talk through comedies. And more than anything, they seem generally interested in the novelty of real live people just a few feet away telling a story.

That’s not to say that they weren’t a good crowd: they were, laughing at the appropriate moments and giving enthusiastic applause afterwards. But I always leave Bumbershoot thinking that as theatre artists we’re still not doing our job well enough to make these accidental audiences our audiences. We can and should do better at making theatre something people seek out, and not just stumble across.

Just How Many Chefs IS Too Many, Anyway?

Last night's rehearsal of "Arcana," my collection of short pieces that goes up at Open Circle next week, went well. Which was great, even though it defies common sense.

What makes this show different from any other production I've ever been involved in is that we've got not one, not two, but FIVE directors working on it. This came about partially through necessity and partially because I get bored of doing theater the same way time after time.

When Open Circle Theatre offered me their September/October slot for a production of eight short pieces in my "Arcana" cycle, I was of course excited. But I was also terrified. Not only was the decision for this made waaaaaay back in July (that's right--one month to plan, one month to rehearse, one month to run), but I had already committed to produce/direct "My Time with the Lady" with Ron Richardson in August. There was no way that I was going to be able to direct this show too.

But when I asked around, I couldn't find another director who was available, or at least available to direct a full production. BUT....I did know several folks who like me have full-time jobs and summer commitments, yet who could probably eke out enough hours to direct a 10-minute play or two.

So after some work on both my part and Open Circle, four other directors were found: Mary Cutler, Evan Tucker, Nikki Visel and Rob West. Not only are all four smart and versatile, but they're four of the most level-headed and pleasant people you could hope to share drinks with.

I won't lie. There have been problems. Scheduling has been a nightmare. Rob's got a kid, Mary had a couple of trips planned, Nikki's dialect coaching, and a couple of weeks ago Evan asked for a later production meeting on Saturday because he was going to a bachelor party the night before: his own, as it turns out. (Mazel tov, Evan!) We also all work with our own processes, and the cast occasionally look somewhat dazed and are probably suffering from directorial whiplash.

But last night was an example of how somehow this can, and will, all work. We delegated Rob to be the "Director's Director" for a rehearsal where we created transitions between the different plays. For the first time, what we saw was the beginning of not eight separate plays but an evening of theatre, with its own rhythms, themes and ritual. It was collaboration of the absolute best sort, with the actors stepping up as well and offering great ideas and suggestions. After three and a half hours, it was done.

As we head into the horrors of tech week, we do so with renewed confidence. A show with five directors shouldn't work. It defies logic and all of the experience I've had with theatre. But even though I've been doing this for 20 years, it turns out that there's still a lot I can learn.

One Down....

My Time with the Lady closed last night with a second sold-out house. For a two week run with not much in the way of reviews (though plenty of previews, I'll admit) that's extraordinary. Thanks to all who made it happen--particularly the audiences!


Ron and I have already had enquiries about what's next for the show, and we're still working all that out. I can tell you that you can expect an expanded web presence, and most likely a remount in 2011, with the venue still TBD.


There's a pride, and a special responsibility, that comes from producing a brand new piece of theatre. Unlike all those worthy productions of Sam Shepard, Teresa Rebeck, Arthur Miller or even Shakespeare going on at theatres across town and across the country, only one theatre in the world was playing "My Time with the Lady," and only those folks who made it during our two week run saw the show. Interesting thought, huh? It makes both the performers and the audiences feel like they're members of an exclusive club. And come to think of it, we are.


But it also means that the responsibility of taking this show towards its next incarnation is all down to us. This is a great show that deserves a longer life and more audiences. So we gird our loins and get out our calendars and start calling venues. And hopefully when we open the show again, we'll have a line out the door of people who missed it this last time round and have figured out that they really missed something special.