ROOTED PLAYWRIGHT’S NOTES BY DEBORAH ZOE LAUFER
Look at us, back in the theatre! These past two years, I’ve often worried that we’d have to squeeze all the stories into those tiny Zoom boxes forever. But if you’re reading this program note — we’re back! And we’re at the Playhouse, one of my favorite places on earth.
I’m particularly excited to bring this play to the stage now because it’s so theatrical, with elements that require wildly imaginative designers and a visionary director like Noah to achieve. It’s what I’ve missed so much — the magic that great sets, lights, sound, costumes, puppetry can do. It’s something that can’t happen in any other medium. It’s something that those tiny Zoom boxes can’t contain.
Along with dozens of cats and dogs, I raised a woodchuck, a beaver, ferrets, deer, a grosbeak — whatever animals were orphaned or injured were left on our doorstep. Trying to understand what they needed, trying to see the world through their eyes, shaped who I am. This was originally a story I was developing for television, with all the animals from my childhood making an appearance. When I decided to make it a play, I needed another way in. I’ve been obsessed with Monica Gagliano, a scientist I discovered on YouTube — she does remarkable experiments about learning and consciousness with plants. When I’m obsessed with something, I have to put it in a play, so it was a natural shift from animals to plants. This is my third production at the Playhouse and my second commission. If you saw Be Here Now you’ll recognize Luanne (and Emily Kratter, the delightful actress who plays her). Rooted is also set in the same fictionalized version of my childhood home. But I wanted to echo some of the themes of Be Here Now as well which feel more pertinent now than ever — the yearning for meaning and belief, the struggle to be truly present, the power of female friendship and what happens when you slow down time and allow there to be quiet and connection in the midst of a chaotic, sometimes frightening world.
But, theatrical as this play is, it’s also oddly personal. Growing up on 100 acres of forest in upstate New York, I spent hours alone in the woods with my thoughts, a writing pad and a lot of non-humans. Luanne’s story about spending a summer trying to get a frog to sit in her hand is right out of my childhood. 2021–2022 | 21
