SDC Journal Winter 2014 by SDC Journal

JOURNAL WINTER 2014

REDISCOVERING THE STRUGGLE OF ROCKY BALBOA: AN INTERVIEW WITH DIRECTOR

ALEX TIMBERS + CHOREOGRAPHERS KELLY DEVINE + STEVEN HOGGETT

MARK LAMOS

VIBRATIONS OF TRUTH

BETTING ON POTENTIAL

A CONVERSATION ON GENDER PARITY

WHY I CAST THAT ACTOR

MARCIA MILGROM DODGE AND MORE WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

SDC EXECUTIVE BOARD

Susan H. Schulman PRESIDENT

John Rando EXECUTIVE VICE PRESIDENT

Leigh Silverman VICE PRESIDENT

Oz Scott SECRETARY

Ethan McSweeny TREASURER

HONORARY ADVISORY COMMITTEE

Karen Azenberg Pamela Berlin Melvin Bernhardt Julianne Boyd Danny Daniels Marshall W. Mason Ted Pappas Gene Saks COUNSEL

Ronald H. Shechtman EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

Laura Penn

MEMBERS OF BOARD

Julie Arenal Rob Ashford Christopher Ashley Anne Bogart Mark Brokaw Joe Calarco Larry Carpenter Marcia Milgrom Dodge Sheldon Epps Michael John GarcĂŠs Christopher Gattelli Liza Gennaro Wendy C. Goldberg Linda Hartzell Dan Knechtges Mark Lamos Paul Lazarus Rick Lombardo Pam MacKinnon Meredith McDonough Tom Moore Robert Moss Sharon Ott Lisa Peterson Lonny Price Seret Scott Bartlett Sher Michael Wilson Chay Yew Evan Yionoulis

SDC JOURNAL

Published by SDC | Winter 2014 | Volume 2 | No. 3 FEATURES EDITOR

Shelley Butler

ART DIRECTOR

Elizabeth Miller

CONTRIBUTORS

Michael Bloom

Alyssa Dvorak

Ben Pesner

DIRECTOR

PUBLICATIONS INTERN

WRITER

Megan Carter

Liza Gennaro

Gerard Raymond

WRITER

CHOREOGRAPHER

WRITER

Marcia Milgrom Dodge

Adam Levi

Hannah Rettoun

DIRECTOR/CHOREOGRAPHER

BUSINESS REPRESENTATIVE

PUBLICATIONS INTERN

Mark Duncan

Matthew Paul Olmos

Seret Scott

EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT

PLAYWRIGHT

DIRECTOR

SDC JOURNAL is published quarterly by Stage Directors and Choreographers Society located at 1501 Broadway, STE 1701, NYC 10036. SDC JOURNAL is a registered trademark of SDC. SUBSCRIPTIONS + ADVERTISEMENTS Call 212.391.1070 or visit www.SDCweb.org. Annual SDC Membership dues include a $5 allocation for a 1-year subscription to SDC JOURNAL. Non-Members may purchase an annual subscription for $24 (domestic), $48 (foreign); single copies cost $7 each (domestic), $14 (foreign). Also available at the Drama Book Shop in NY, NY. POSTMASTER Send address changes to SDC JOURNAL, SDC, 1501 Broadway, STE 1701, NY, NY 10036. PRINTED BY Sterling Printing

SDC JOURNAL

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Union bug here

27 22

WINTER

CONTENTS

FEATURES

WINTER 2014

IN TRANSITION

From East to West

BARRY EDELSTEIN’s transition from East Coast

BY ALYSSA

to West.

DVORAK

Rediscovering

New York Theatre Workshop’s 2050 Fellowship strives to support the next generation of directors.

A conversation on career and craft.

INTERVIEW BY GERARD

21 Directors at the Helm

PAUL OLMOS

27 Betting on Potential A CONVERSATION ABOUT GENDER PARITY

VIBRATIONS OF TRUTH

INTERVIEW BY MATTHEW

Carey Perloff, Ellen Richard + Laura Penn discuss the challenges women experience in obtaining leadership roles in the industry.

MARK DUNCAN

17 M ark Lamos

the Struggle of Rocky Balboa

A conversation with ALEX TIMBERS, KELLY DEVINE + STEVEN HOGGETT.

15 The Start of a Community

Volume 2 | No. 3

COVER

INTERVIEW EDITED BY MEGAN

CARTER

30 10 Women Directors + Choreographers

Considering the gender gap in today’s theatre leadership.

RAYMOND

A Few Words on Hartford Stage’s A.D. Legacy.

Sergio Trujillo

FITTING IT ONTO THE BODY

INTERVIEW BY LIZA

Creating choreography for Hands on a Hard Body.

GENNARO WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

FROM THE PRESIDENT

BY SUSAN

FROM THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

H. SCHULMAN

BY LAURA

IN YOUR WORDS

PENN

Two Questions for Director Bob Moss CURATED BY SERET SCOTT

Why I Cast That Actor MARCIA MILGROM DODGE on casting Nathan Lee Graham in Cabaret

9 What show made you fall in love

with theatre? Our Members Respond

Why I Cast That Actor

OUR MEMBERS IN PRINT

MICHAEL BLOOM on casting Donald Carrier in Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde

12 BACKSTAGE

PHOTO c/o

Paul Tazewell, Costume Designer

Stratford Festival

LYN CRAMER

Creating Musical Theatre: Conversations with Broadway Directors and Choreographers BY ALYSSA DVORAK

38 SDC FOUNDATION The 2013 Zelda Fichandler Award

Recipient CHARLES NEWELL + Finalists

44 SDC FOUNDATION The 2013 Joe A. Callaway Award Recipients MARLO HUNTER + RUBEN SANTIAGO-HUDSON

45 FROM THE ARCHIVES Why Are These People Dancing?

MICHAEL KIDD interviewed by JOE MALONE

THE SOCIETY PAGES Presentations of the 2013

Joe A. Callaway Award, Ovation Awards + Zelda Fichander Award; Annual NYC Membership Meeting + Farewell Tribute to Outgoing President Karen Azenberg + SDC’s Gene Kelly

as part of the “Conversation with Master Choreographers” series in 1997

2 3 1 COVER Alex PHOTO

Timbers, Kelly Devine + Steven Hoggett Walter McBride

| 1 Steven Hoggett, Alex Timbers + Kelly Devine PHOTO Walter McBride | 2 Carey Perloff PHOTO c/o American Conservatory Theater 3 Sergio Trujillo PREVIOUS

SDC JOURNAL

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FROM THE PRESIDENT

NEW EXECUTIVE BOARD PRESIDENT SUSAN H. SCHULMAN ON COMMUNITY

“As a Member of SDC, I have always felt supported and protected, and I hope you feel the same. As Union President I am here to represent you...all my peers and colleagues who understand the loneliness of our trade and therefore appreciate the meaning of community.”

When I was a child, my mother, Ruth Schulman, helped organize Local 1199, the union for healthcare workers. We lived just around the corner from Unity Hospital, and I remember clearly the diverse group of people that congregated around my mother in our Brooklyn apartment. I recall hysteria, threats of firing, and I remember that I was somewhat embarrassed by my mother, as children often are when their parents are too passionate, too outspoken, too involved. Today I could not be more proud of her or the role that union has played in my family history. I am delighted, and humbled, to step into the monumental shoes of President Karen Azenberg as I take up the mantle of SDC Executive Board President. I feel as though I have served on the Board for 100 years—but I can say in all honesty that it has been a fantastic 100 years of not being lonely. The kinship that SDC and my Board service has afforded me has been invaluable throughout my career, as we all know how lonely it can be as a director or choreographer. Ours is a craft of solitude in many ways, and only our peers can truly appreciate the singularity of what we do. As a Member of SDC, I have always felt supported and protected, and I hope you feel the same. As Union President I am here to represent you—the Membership here in New York and all across the U.S., in Chicago and Dallas, Milwaukee, Seattle, and Los Angeles—all my peers and colleagues who understand the loneliness of our trade and therefore appreciate the meaning of community that SDC works so diligently to achieve. SDC Journal unites us too, with its beautifully rendered tales of struggle and triumph, process and purpose within our craft. While prepping my remarks for the Board back in October, I was reminded that support is no small thing—it is a prized benefit that accompanies all the other benefits of belonging to our community. Your Membership provides you with many things: protection, representation, information. Perhaps you receive health or pension benefits, or maybe you file contracts under agreements that strive to pay us fairly and to protect our work and our place as employees. At both Membership levels, Full and Associate, you have a dedicated staff ready to assist you in any number of circumstances, from financial hardship to contract negotiation to legal support when you have not been treated fairly. And along with these benefits you also receive support—not just from our 34-member Executive Board and 14-member staff—but from one another as well. I have served on a number of negotiation committees, and I will serve on more. I’ve seen the short- and long-term plans that our leadership has for the Union, and the tasks at hand are large and ambitious. They are also necessary, and I can only hope that we as a Union will rise to such occasions. If you are called upon to staff a committee or to volunteer for an event, please, make every effort to do so. Few schedules are more jam-packed and challenging than those of a professional director or choreographer, but your knowledge of the industry, your unique experiences, and your perspectives of various jurisdictions and companies are invaluable. We need you. I promise we will not waste your time, and if your experience working closely with us is anything like mine has been, I can assure you that you will be rewarded with deep personal satisfaction and pride of community.

ABOVE

Susan H. Schulman accepting the Office of SDC Executive Board President at the 2013 Annual Membership Meeting

Susan H. Schulman Executive Board President

KAREN AZENBERG has been a Member since 1989 | SUSAN H. SCHULMAN since 1981

WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

FROM THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

“If you don’t enjoy it, you better not be in it.” GENE KELLY

ADRIANA BAER Accs. since 2011 TIM DANG since 2010 KELLY DEVINE since 2005 ZELDA FICHANDLER since 1987 MAIJA GARCIA since 2010 REBECCA HOLDERNESS Assc. since 2013 GENE KELLY d.1996 NANCY KEYSTONE since 2000 MICHAEL KIDD d.2007 MARK LAMOS since 1986 EMILY MANN since 1980 MEREDITH MCDONOUGH since 2007 CHARLES NEWELL since 1990 CAREY PERLOFF since 1995 ALEX TIMBERS since 2006 SERGIO TRUJILLO since 2004

SDC JOURNAL

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As we enter a new year it feels cliché to talk about how fast time is moving, but there is something about technological advances and our global citizenry that has altered the speed at which we process experiences. In just a few years it seems as though we have forever changed the way we are subject to life in “real time.” Yet actual human evolution moves very, very slowly. It took millions of years to develop bipedalism, and then nearly two million more to craft our first tools. It is said that human intelligence as we know it today began developing some 150,000 years ago (which is relatively recent, I guess you could say). More interesting is that this measurement is marked by the appearance of art. From the industrial revolution forward, our culture has developed at light speed, and our physiology feels so far behind because we are likely still hardwired for our hunter/ gatherer lifestyle, which depended on fight or flight. Today we are inundated with constant stimuli, which to early humans would surely have inspired flight. Our adrenal gland is in overdrive and our melatonin is in hibernation. Our ability to sense danger is still crucial, but our bodies crave some dark and quiet, some simple storytelling around the fire. In preparation for the Fichandler Award presentation in Cincinnati this fall, I was talking with Zelda, or rather listening to her crystallizing thoughts about artists in our society. She said, “You know, Laura, artists inherit the evolutionary power.” I have no illusions that the year ahead will be anything less than the year that has just passed; in all likelihood it will be filled with more and will move faster. For those of us in NYC at the SDC offices, the year will be one of transitions and growth. Our lease at 1501 Broadway is set to expire early in 2015, and while it’s possible we will continue to find ourselves located between Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. and the Hard Rock Café, it is equally likely we will move to a new location. With participation from a newly formed Real Estate Task Force we are exploring the increased value a few blocks in any direction might offer the Membership. We are also working in earnest on an information technology conversion (i.e., new database). I know these are projects only an administrator could love, but know that our goal is to continue advancing SDC’s presence in the community by holding fast to our commitment to unite, empower, and protect directors and choreographers around the country. I was struck while reading the final draft of this issue how often a certain series of words appeared. Possibly this has been true with every issue and I am just drawn to them now as I look at the year ahead and consider the opportunities. Risk, danger, fear, courage. In fact it’s hard to find an article in this issue where one of these words doesn’t appear, if not directly then at minimum the emotion behind the word is brought forth. But then I guess this is at the very heart of your work. To face the uncertainty of the empty stage, to lift the story from the page, and to bring a divergent group of people together around an idea—artists and audiences alike—all the while wondering if the play will manifest in the way you have envisioned.

In this issue Maija Garcia encourages female leaders to be fearless while Emily Mann wonders if others fear women won’t deliver. Mark Lamos and Kelly Devine speak of moments when they were terrified. Michael Kidd and Rebecca Holderness talk of dangerous things. Meredith McDonough, Nancy Keystone, and Carey Perloff reference risk; Charlie Newell, Sergio Trujillo, Alex Timbers, and Adriana Baer all make note of the ever-present challenges facing directors and choreographers. Speaking of challenges, Ellen Rusconi, Producing Director of SDC Foundation (SDCF), and I recently returned from a trip to Southern California. SDCF was founded in 1965 and to this day it is the only organization that that exists solely to support directors and choreographers; the goals have remained unchanged over the past 49 years. Our trip to LA was designed to meet a key goal: to convene around the issues affecting theatre artists. The event took place at the Pasadena Playhouse, one of our co-hosts, along with Tim Dang and the East West Players. The topic was “Diversity: Through a Director’s Eye.” It was a beginning for SDCF and SDC. I don’t mean to imply a beginning for a conversation about diversity or the lack thereof in the theatre, but rather this event marked the beginning of a commitment to public engagement. Directors and choreographers have engaged in conversation for years in the four corners of the country with a wide range of collaborators and stakeholders. In literary managers’ offices, audition halls, and boardrooms, SDC Members, LORT leaders, TCG constituents, Broadway League producers, and more are wrestling, as they have for decades, with what diversity means for them. Directors and choreographers are highly skilled problem solvers, and by and large a pretty brave group. It will take the best of everyone to imagine ways in which we can create and support a level playing field where talent and ability lead the way to success, where influence is shared, and where paths are well lit, creating access for all artists. We will have a complete report on the California event in the spring issue of SDC Journal. Our Members, whether working as freelance artists, artistic directors, or associates, can and do have significant impact on the evolution that continues in our culture, in our consciousness, and in our work in the theatre. And it’s hard and we love it. The stories contained in this issue illuminate the ways in which directors and choreographers tackle exceedingly complex and ambitious theatrical moments on stage as well as with how their work is received by and impacts the larger world. Reaching back to the SDC Founders—when talking of dancers, the great Gene Kelly spoke of the torture and hard work required, stating, “If you don’t enjoy it you better not be in it.”

Laura Penn Executive Director

IN YOUR WORDS Two Questions Why I Cast That Actor We Asked Our Members... Our Members In Print Backstage

TWO QUESTIONS CURATED BY SERET

SCOTT

for BOB MOSS

When did you know you were a director? What did the moment look like? Feel like?

CONTRIBUTE If you wish to contribute to IN YOUR WORDS, would like to respond to any of the articles, opinions, or views expressed in SDC Journal, or have an idea for an article, please email Letters@SDCweb.org. Include your full name, city + state. We regret that we are unable to respond to every letter.

NOTED | FALL 2013 In last months’ issue, SDC Journal listed the incorrect year for Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park’s production of Clybourne Park in the In Residence column, “An Artistic Home for Directors.” The production will run January-February 2014.

I came to New York when I was 17, and I went to Queens College very briefly. As soon as I started there, I found the drama club. I went to the first meeting, and the seniors said, “Well, have you done anything?” I told them all the things I had done, and they asked me to direct a play. And because in my whole life I have said yes when people ask me things and I haven’t gotten in too much trouble, I said, “Sure!” But the incredible, life-centering moment was when I stood in front of those actors on the very first day: I felt something in my body, I felt a change, and I knew that I was home and that that was where I belonged. This felt real. I called my mother and I said, “Guess what? I’m not an actor anymore; I’m a director.”

If a mentor of yours were to see your work, where would they find themselves? Ellis Rabb and Uta Hagen, I would say, are my two big influences. Once I found Uta Hagen, I learned about intentions and activities or tactics, and I listened to her talk to actors for a year. That totally informed my directing. I got to be the stage manager of the APA Repertory Company. There, the directors were the great Ellis Rabb, Stephen Porter, and Alan Schneider. Rosemary Harris was the leading lady. I learned a lot from them; totally different lessons from Uta that had more to do with making work in a theatre. Way after I started Playwrights Horizons, I had dinner with Ellis and Rosemary, and they were interested in what their little stage manager had done. Ellis at one point very proudly said, “Robert, everything I know I learned from the Galleon, and everything I know, I have shared with you,” whereupon we all just burst into tears, of course.

2013 has been a busy year for BOB MOSS, beginning with work on a new play by Laura King at Hollins University in Roanoke. Ongoing new work projects include preparing two plays for projected runs in New York this fall: Ira Fuchs’s Hedgeucation (about the 2007 fiscal collapse in this country) and Logan Medland’s musical Fingers & Toes (about creating a musical in 1939). There is also ongoing work with writer Mary Mott on From Where I Sit, slated for an October production at the Unicorn Theatre. He taught directing at Ithaca College and directed their production of Arthur Miller’s An Enemy of the People. He produced an evening of one-acts at SUNY Cortland. Prior to all this, he was the Artistic Director of Syracuse Stage for 12 years, Artistic Director of the Hangar Theatre for 15 years, and Artistic Director of the Queens Theatre in the Park for 7 years. In 1971 he founded Playwrights Horizons and ran it for its first 10 years, which included the now-historic move to 42nd Street.

ROBERT MOSS since 1982 | STEPHEN PORTER since 1959 | ELLIS RABB d.1998 | ALAN SCHNEIDER d.1984

WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Nathan Lee Graham as the Emcee PHOTO Jerry Naunheim, Jr.©

WHY I CAST THAT ACTOR

MARCIA MILGROM DODGE Marcia Milgrom Dodge on casting Nathan Lee Graham in Cabaret Cabaret, a co-production between The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis and the Cincinnati Playhouse in the Park, offered me the opportunity to revisit the show, as it was my second time directing and choreographing this landmark musical. (I first directed the show in 2011 for Reprise Theatre Company in Los Angeles.) Artistic Directors Steven Woolf and Blake Robison and I began casting in the spring of 2013 for our fall 2013 production. Casting director Rich Cole was charged with bringing in the most exciting actors for us to see. When Nathan Lee Graham walked into the room, we all sat up and opened our hearts and minds to the prospect of casting an African American as the Emcee. “His take on the songs was wildly innovative, and as an African American, Nathan added levels to this character that have rarely been seen,” says Woolf. At the callbacks, we offered Nathan the role. Yes, our story is centered on the German-Jewish-Nazi conflict, but the person who invites the audience into this story, the one who breaks the fourth wall and comments on the action, who satirizes the plight of Sally Bowles and her unlikely suitor, Cliff, who portends to know the outcome, is the Emcee. Steve, Blake, and I welcomed the exciting opportunity to add another layer to this story in a way that makes it even more provocative in its telling in the year 2013. Nathan and I have some history. We first worked together on a big original musical at the Goodman Theatre in 1991. It was called Riverview. Written by John Logan, with popular music of the 1940s and ’50s, it told the stories of Chicagoans who lived and worked in Riverview Park, a real amusement park set inside urban Chicago in the post-WWII era. Nathan was in the ensemble and featured in the sideshow sequence. This was a show cast color-consciously. There were black and white characters and

SDC JOURNAL

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the conflicts stemmed from their races. In one scene, he played a gorilla in a cage. Now, in Cabaret, to have Nathan sing “If You Could See Her” while dancing with a gorilla was not lost on me. I had the extraordinary opportunity to cast an iconic role “against type” and I did so with great responsibility. I delved into research about Blacks in Germany in the late ’20s and early ’30s and discovered a number of resources that told of black American performers who became celebrated in Europe for their art. So is it a colorblind or color-conscious choice? At the time we made this decision: it was color-conscious. To our knowledge, the role had never been played by an actor of color. The role’s most acclaimed performances were by Joel Grey and Alan Cumming, both Caucasian. But in hindsight, I believe it to be colorblind. There is nothing in the text to suggest that the Emcee is any particular color or from any particular race. In fact, there isn’t much in the way of character provided to suggest he’s a real person. The Emcee is described as “a leering, ghoulish, flamboyant figure.” Gender isn’t even specified. His role is meant to stand apart from the stories depicted by Cliff and Sally and Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz. He has no name. But how can an actor get inside of a “figure”? In the backstory Nathan created, he’s an African American living abroad, à la Josephine Baker, who becomes accepted by Germans for his art and uncanny ability to entertain. I am indebted to Rich Cole for bringing Nathan in for the role and I am richer for having the opportunity to work with Nathan to create his unique Emcee.

SUSAN WOOLF BOOTH since 1998 RICH COLE since 1996 | MARCIA MILGROM DODGE since 1979 | BLAKE ROBISON since 2012 | STEVEN 1987

WE ASKED OUR MEMBERS AROUND THE COUNTRY:

What show made you fall in love with theatre? My fondest and earliest theatrical experiences involved two Broadway musicals and three artists associated with those shows who have remained deeply important influences upon my career in the theatre. In the summer of 1968, I enrolled in an arts camp in my hometown of Baltimore, and one of the guest teachers for dance was Geoffrey Holder. There was a special African dance class for the boys. We knew this giant of a man with his deep and funny voice and laugh as the “Uncola Man” from the TV commercials, but we had no idea that he was a famous dancer. I remember all of us at first being afraid of him because he was the biggest and tallest man we had ever seen, but that magical smile of his soon won us over and quickly put our fears to rest. I loved dancing with him and was even awarded a certificate of excellence in dance from the arts camp for my classes with Mr. Holder. Two years later my family took a trip to New York to see the musical Purlie. My family has never let me forget that, at the time, my nine-year-old mind was dead set against going. My parents tried everything, but nothing worked until my father came up with the brilliant visual concept that we were going to see a show that would be a mix of The Beverly Hillbillies and Li’l Abner. Well, that actually made some sort of sense to me, so I was okay with it then. All of the lights and energy of Times Square truly worked its magic on me. The show was just as my dad had said it would be—fast and funny. I had never heard singing like that combined with jokes and a story. Then everything suddenly got even better! Onto the stage came this little guy with a comic personality and who also moved with such humor and grace that right then and there I fell in love with the arts. The impression that Sherman Hemsley’s performance in the role of “Gitlow” made upon me was like being hit by a truck and it has stayed with me forever. Those who didn’t see his performance in Purlie were probably not aware that the little dance that Sherman does in the opening credits of the hit TV show The Jeffersons is actually his “Gitlow” step/dance. I still smile every single time I see him do that and am reminded of how I became hooked into becoming a choreographer. Soon after I enrolled in the Baltimore Museum School of the Arts. In 1974, my mother took me to the opening night of The Wiz, a new musical that was in “pre-Broadway tryouts” in Baltimore. Seeing that show had the same kind of “being hit by a truck” impression on me as when I’d seen Purlie. I was so hooked by the show’s spectacular elements—the dancing, costumes, sets, lights— and all of it directed by Mr. Holder! Suddenly I made a huge connection—this is what a director does! Then there was also the added bonus that “The Wiz” himself, Mr. André De Shields, was actually from Baltimore! I knew right then and there that I wanted to become a director/choreographer, so I wrote to Mr. Holder, saying how much I enjoyed his show and that I now understood what a director was. Fast forward to 1999. I’m performing in Susan Stroman’s Broadway musical Contact at Lincoln Center Theater. After one of our performances, Mr. Holder was waiting for me backstage. He’d remembered me from all of those years ago back. I was touched so deeply that tears came to my eyes. Many years later I was also formally introduced to Mr. DeShields, and since then we’ve become close friends. I can trace all of this back to those two shows—Purlie and The Wiz.

TOMÉ COUSIN since 2009 | Pittsburgh, PA

The Laramie Project ALEX MALLORY

Assc. since 2009 | Brooklyn, NY

I saw a production of Annie when I was three years old. I had an immediate response of “I want to do that!” and my parents enrolled me in every artistic opportunity they could afford. Fifteen years later, I read Angels in America, which changed the way I viewed the world. For me, those two shows solidified the power of theatre.

KIMBERLY FAITH HICKMAN

since 2009 | Brooklyn, NY

Frank Langella in Dracula on Broadway, 1977, directed by Dennis Rosa; sets and costumes Edward Gorey; producer, Nell Nugent. I was very young. I had no idea what I was going to see and no recollection of how I came to be at this production, but I was struck! I had never imagined how design could influence a production, and never considered how the design could also influence the performance style of the actor. I was mesmerized by the use of an all-black-and-white set and costume design, the hand-drawn set, the use of the symbolic, and graphic use of the color red (blood and roses). Years later, I would intuitively reach for a book by Edward Gorey when reenvisioning my production of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya—the dark, morbid sense of humor was the perfect complement to house the play. The blackand-white world with a graphic use of the color red (wine and roses), and blue—for the costume of the added role of the ghost of Vanya’s lost sister. I had no idea what a profound impact that production of Dracula had made on me until I found myself in the world of Edward Gorey and knew I had—in a sense—come home!

GIA FORAKIS

since 2006 | Brooklyn, NY

Brigadoon SIDNEY J. BURGOYNE

since 2008 | New York, NY

I grew up in the desert and played the recordings of all the Broadway musicals, imagining what they looked like and making up the plots (whether they were accurate or not). In 1972, after a really discouraging year at home, I treated myself to a Thanksgiving break to see my best friend in No, No, Nanette on Broadway. I bought standing room, but I’m sure that I danced more than I stood. “Happy” is most certainly the word to describe my condition after seeing my first Broadway show. It was all the things I needed: the orchestra’s overture rumbling in my chest, the great tap numbers, a good old score, costumes to drool over, and wonderful performances—not to mention my friend standing next to Ruby Keeler. I’m sure I already loved the theatre in an unfocused way, but this was REAL; this was “my family.” I belonged at last and forever.

JOANN YEOMAN

Assc. since 2004 | Bogota, NJ

Ted Pappas’s production of Sweeney Todd at the Pittsburgh Public Theater changed my life. I saw the show three times as a young teenager, and I have now had the pleasure of assisting Marcia Milgrom Dodge at PPT twice. Twenty years later, I am just as excited by Ted’s remarkable work!

NATHAN BREWER

Assc. since 2011 | Bronx, NY

NEXT ISSUE

How do you define a director’s or choreographer’s job? Write one sentence to SDCJournal@SDCweb.org for a chance to have your answer published in the Spring Issue.

ANDRÉ DE SHIELDS since 1989 | MARCIA MILGROM DODGE since 1979 | TED PAPPAS since 1981 | SUSAN STROMAN since 1987

WINTER 2014 | |SDC SDCJOURNAL JOURNAL

WHY I CAST THAT ACTOR

MICHAEL BLOOM

On casting Donald Carrier in Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde @ Huntington Theatre Co. Practice is supposed to make perfect. Casting, however, can be a nerve-wracking business no matter how many times one directs. Unless you select actors you’ve already worked with, it’s a leap into the unknown not much more certain than a blind date.

was nearly upon us, so I asked to see the actor audition. Then came the third obstacle—he wouldn’t be able to audition in person.

The role of Oscar Wilde still stands, for me, as the high-water mark of casting challenges. First there was the question of whether the actor should resemble the historical Wilde. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the effect would need to be achieved through physical behavior because there were so many other critical requirements.

These were the early days of video auditions, when many directors considered it foolhardy to cast an actor without at least a personal meeting. (Some still do.) As a video virgin, it hadn’t occurred to me to offer the actor notes and ask him to do a subsequent session.

That didn’t make casting the 1998 production of Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde at the Huntington Theatre Company a great deal easier. Wilde is a genius celebrity with enormous wit, scintillating intelligence, and a world-class facility with language—a tall order for any actor. And in spite of his prodigious talent and bravado, he possesses a vulnerability that is almost childlike in its naïveté. After many idea lists and several days of auditions, casting director Paul Fouquet and I hadn’t found our lead. Thankfully, good casting directors seem to have a nearly endless mental Rolodex to consult when initial efforts don’t pan out. Paul seemed to recall hearing very good things from costume designer David Murin about an actor who played Wilde at the Intiman Theatre in Seattle. Casting someone who’s performed a role in another production isn’t uncommon in shortened rehearsal periods and especially with musicals, where a prior knowledge of the music can be a great advantage. But I’d never done it with a drama and three weeks of rehearsal. More often than not I’d watched auditions from actors for a role they’d played previously and thought, “That wasn’t at all what I was looking for.” There were also tales of woe from directors I knew who’d fallen into “that trap” to make it one of those “rules” that one breaks only at the eleventh hour. That time

After the final day of auditions, Artistic Director Peter Altman, Paul, and I still hadn’t found our Wilde. We went into a tiny backroom in Paul’s office, and Paul inserted a VHS cassette into a combination player-monitor. I couldn’t conceive of casting someone from a grainy tape recording on a miniature television set. Then the actor, Donald Carrier, started speaking. He was tall, commanding, selfassured, and as verbally fluent as I’d imagined Wilde himself to be. It was, even after a minute, the best reading we’d seen. We made the requisite calls—to people who’d seen the show and those who had directed Don. The reports were all good. It was time for me to speak with Don. He and I immediately seemed to be on the same page about the imperatives of the part. Yet as we spoke I kept wondering: would he fall back on the choices he’d made previously? Fortunately I never had to ask the question. Don told me that while he enjoyed playing Wilde, he felt he could improve his performance and that he’d love to take another crack at it. This simple, ego-less statement was what made me think he’d be able to humanize an almost mythical figure. It also made me confident that he’d start at the beginning of the process, exploring the play anew. So I went with my gut. Don proved to be a man of his word. He took direction generously, and never seemed to reach back for a default choice. I couldn’t imagine finding anyone better for the role— or a more hazardous way of doing it. The show won an Elliott Norton Award for Best Production that year, in no small part due to Don’s work. Now that he’s become one of my favorite collaborators, playing leads in Ten Chimneys and Lincolnesque, I marvel at how a connection as tenuous as a VHS video brought us together.

Donald Carrier as Oscar Wilde PHOTO T. Charles Erickson c/o Huntington Theatre Company

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It turned out to be a seminal casting experience for me. I let go of preconceived notions of the “hows” of casting and became more secure in trusting my instinct— something we directors have to do regardless of how actors come to us. MICHAEL BLOOM since 1986

OUR MEMBERS IN PRINT BY ALYSSA

DVORAK

LYN CRAMER Creating Musical Theatre: Conversations with Broadway Directors and Choreographers A group of 23 directors, one camera, and one determined professor—these were the elements that ultimately resulted in the development of Lyn Cramer’s new book, Creating Musical Theatre: Conversations with Broadway Directors and Choreographers. As a professor of dance in the Musical Theatre program at the University of Oklahoma, Cramer initially started this project with the goal of providing her students with insight into how Broadway functions today, from the audition process to opening night. Cramer wanted to create a series of taped interviews with working Broadway directors and choreographers to put in the university’s media resource center for her students to study. “Why not have an inside scoop?” she thought. She used her 2011 winter sabbatical to fly to New York and film interviews with the working artists of the current season. “The great thing about being there in 2011: I really hit the proverbial jackpot. Everybody was in town and everybody was working on something.” From Casey Nicholaw and The Book of Mormon to Jerry Mitchell and Catch Me If You Can, Cramer captured the voices of a variety of directors to feature in her collection. All 23 interviews were completed over the course of five months, and the tapes were logged for students by the fall of 2011. Once that process was completed, fellow faculty members began strongly encouraging Cramer to put the interviews into a book format that would be available to a much broader audience. “Everybody started beating me over the head about a book.” Cramer then thought, “How bad can it be? [I] don’t have to make it up.” Cramer agreed to make the book because of the specific directors and choreographers involved. “We’re about to miss a generation of directors and choreographers,” Cramer says. “People need to know who’s behind the great shows they go and see, who makes them work.”

“People need to know who’s behind the great shows they go and see, who makes them work.”

It took nine months to produce the book once the proposal was picked up by publisher Bloomsbury Methuen Drama in July of 2012. “It’s a process,” she says. Each filmed interview was about 90 minutes in length, the equivalent of approximately 50-65 pages. Cramer had to limit each interview to 30 pages, as well as limit the number of artists featured from 23 to 12. If the book is a success, future editions may be created. “People will ebb and flow out of the book,” Cramer clarifies, depending on what projects they are working on. Creating Musical Theatre is intended for college students, or even high school students, who plan to enter into theatre as a profession, especially those with Broadway aspirations. “Students in this generation want immediate gratification and it just isn’t that kind of business. You have to pay your dues,” Cramer says. There were many discussions on the audition process in the interviews. Rob Ashford “talks about it better than anyone,” and Christopher Gattelli’s “words are jaw-droppingly inspiring.” Both artists spoke in great detail about what they are looking for in the audition process, a topic that could help theatre students across the country. “The entire book reflects the fact that performers have to be multi-talented,” says Cramer. Broadway casts are much smaller than in the past and “everybody is working in an ensemble situation.” There is no longer solely a vocal chorus and a dance ensemble; instead, “they are looking for people who sing, dance, and act.” While the book is targeted toward college students pursuing a career in theatre, “anyone who’s a theatre aficionado of any kind will enjoy it.” Warren Carlyle, for example, tells Cramer, “I’ve had more fun learning how my colleagues work than I can tell you. It’s just been a joy.” For students, professionals, and theatre enthusiasts, this book is the top pick for the season. Creating Musical Theatre was released on September 12, 2013, by Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, a subset of Bloomsbury Publishing. It is available on Amazon.com and in bookstores. An endowed professor in the Weitzenhoffer School of Musical Theatre at the University of Oklahoma, LYN CRAMER has been a teacher, director, and choreographer for more than 30 years. OU productions include On the Town, Seussical, and A Chorus Line. Cramer has directed and choreographed a dozen shows for Lyric Theatre of Oklahoma, including The Will Rogers Follies, Bye Bye Birdie, Hairspray, 42nd Street, and Swing. Other theatre credits include Casa Mañana, Music Theatre of Wichita, and Oklahoma City Repertory Theatre. She is a member of Actors’ Equity Association and the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society. Lyn received the Irene and Julian J. Rothbaum Presidential Professor of Excellence in the Arts award from the Weitzenhoffer Family College of Fine Arts and the Artistic Achievement Award from the Chicago National Association of Dance Masters. Cramer is a master teacher throughout the United States and has published curriculums in jazz and tap ROB ASHFORD since 2000 | WARREN CARLYLE since 2000 | LYN CRAMER since 2000 CHRISTOPHER GATTELLI since 2000 | JERRY MITCHELL since 1990 | CASEY NICHOLAW since 2001

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BACKSTAGE

with COSTUME DESIGNER

PAUL TAZEWELL What led you to pursue a career in costume design? Initially, I wanted to be a musical theatre performer—like Ben Vereen. I grew up in Akron, Ohio, and in order to pursue a performing career in New York, I chose to study fashion design at Pratt Institute. Well, I just fell in love with the process of design. I was drawn to design’s incorporation of the full spectrum of theatre arts: the literature, the research, the history, drawing and painting, working with my hands to create, to build, etc. The exploration of the complex psychology and emotional drive behind characters through design excites me. I also came to believe that I would be less marginalized as a designer than as a performer, where I would be cast according to my “type” as a person of color. Ultimately, this has been the perfect setting for me to thrive as a theatre artist. How did you make the leap from acting to costume design? After one year at Pratt, I transferred to North Carolina School of the Arts to complete my undergraduate degree in costume design. Then, while pursuing an MFA in costume and set design at NYU, Tazewell Thompson asked me to design his 1990 production of The Caucasian Chalk Circle at Arena Stage (coincidentally, we happen to share a name, but are not related). My work on Chalk Circle led to my eventually becoming Resident Costume Designer for Arena Stage. From there, my career really began to take flight and I worked with George C. Wolfe on The Public Theater’s 1998 production of On the Town, which transferred to Broadway. What characteristics do successful designers possess? I think that all successful theatre artists must possess exceptional listening skills. I listen carefully to the director to glean the essence of their vision for a project. Designers must also be excellent detectives. I ask carefully chosen questions in order to better understand the director’s concept for a production. Then,

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PHOTO c/o

Stratford Festival

PATRICIA MCGREGOR since 2012 | DEBORAH WARNER since 2003

I endeavor to layer the aspects of each individual costume to create a cohesive look that is believable within—and that corresponds to—this world we are creating. And, if I am successful in harnessing the director’s vision and communicating it through my design, the costumes are instrumental to the telling of the story. In an ideal world, at what point do you meet with a director? In an ideal world: as early as possible. In many cases, the director meets with the scenic designer first, in order to better understand the space in which the play takes place. But the sooner I am brought on board, the better—because it increases the time I have to discuss and to contemplate my own design for the project. Also, I have more time to adjust in case a costume doesn’t quite work or if the concept shifts slightly. What should a director know about a project before speaking with designers? It is important that a director has, to some degree, developed their own point of view about the play. But it is crucial that he/she is willing to clarify that viewpoint through discussions with the design team. I find it very exciting when a director says, “This is how I feel about the play, but I’m not certain about the physical world yet.” I love when a director invites the designers to collaborate to discover the physical realm for a play. Anything that sparks discussion and helps the creative team arrive at a unified vision can lead to a successful production. Which artists, including directors and/or choreographers, have had the strongest influence on you? When I began to develop an interest in costume design, it was through the musicals of the late ’70s and early ’80s. Bob Fosse was a huge inspiration as his work always carried with it so much “style.” That was also the first time that I was exposed to the work of Willa Kim with her work on Dancin’ and I was (and still am) taken with her inventiveness with costume design. Peter Brook’s direction has also been a great influence, especially the way in which he presents the epic with great simplicity, accuracy, and grace. Through his focus on script analysis, my graduate design instructor John Conklin taught me that design can be inspired and enhanced by a deeper understanding of the text. Geoffrey Holder influenced and inspired me through his love of fabric in movement and as an extension of the performer. Fashion designer Charles James opened my eyes to the possibility of clothing as sculpture. Also, John Singer Sargent for the illumination of character in his portraits—and his obvious love of light and fabric. And Rembrandt for the element of theatricality in his painting. Which directors and/or choreographers have you most enjoyed collaborating with—and why? The directors and choreographers I most enjoy working with are expert collaborators who have faith in my work and our collaborative process.

I have a huge amount of respect for Des McAnuff’s ability to craft a smart and complicated production and the control, dexterity, and insight that he has over the creation of a production from beginning to end. There is always an approach that is new and exciting and a territory of design that I have never explored when working with Des. I appreciate the tether he gives me as a designer and his discerning eye. George C. Wolfe is an extremely intelligent and challenging director to collaborate with. When I work with George, I always feel that I am pushed beyond where I thought I could go. George forces his collaborators to investigate an idea from many perspectives. And the list goes on: Thomas Kail, because our work together is always smart and heartfelt. He makes me love people and what I do; Francesca Zambello for her straightforward, clear, and direct communication; Sergio Trujillo for his deep understanding of how clothing and fabric can inform character and enhance the sexiness of a production—a quality I truly appreciate in a director and/or choreographer; Kate Whoriskey, because there is always a lot of laughter with Kate, even in tragedy and pain. And isn’t that broad spectrum of the human experience what good theatre is about? As a designer, what is one piece of advice you have for SDC Members? Trust and develop loyal relationships with your designers. Know that we designers are on your side in supporting your point of view on a story. We can’t function without your direction. Our desire is to have a seat at the table. Also, keep in mind that designers, much like directors and choreographers, need not be cast to type in the same way as actors. With our faces hidden from view, smart designers are able to interpret any sex, race, and culture in an intelligent and thoughtful way. Paul Tazewell has been designing for theatre, dance, and opera companies nationally and internationally for the past 23 years. His Broadway credits include Jesus Christ Superstar, Memphis (Tony nomination), In the Heights (Tony nomination), The Color Purple (Tony nomination), Bring in ’da Noise, Bring in ’da Funk (Tony nomination), Guys and Dolls, Elaine Stritch at Liberty, Caroline or Change, A Streetcar Named Desire (Tony nomination), A Raisin in the Sun, Lombardi, Magic/Bird, Miracle Worker, On the Town, Def Poetry Jam, Drowning Crow, Hot Feet, and The Gershwin’s Fascinating Rhythm. His opera work includes the costume designs for Faust for the Metropolitan Opera and the English National Opera; Porgy and Bess and Showboat for Washington National Opera, Chicago Lyric Opera, and San Francisco Opera; Magdelena for Chatelet Opera Theatre in Paris; Margaret Garner for Michigan Opera; and Little Women for Glimmerglass Opera and New York City Opera. For the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Ontario, Mr. Tazewell has designed costumes for productions of Romeo and Juliet, Caesar and Cleopatra, The Tempest, Macbeth, and Pirates of Penzance. Off-Broadway, Mr. Tazewell designed Ruined, In the Heights, McReele, Flesh and Blood, Fame, Boston Marriage, and Harlem Song. Mr. Tazewell has received numerous awards and honors, including four Helen Hayes Awards for Outstanding Costume Design, the Lucille Lortel Award, the Princess Grace Fellowship and Statuette, and the Irene Sharaff Award.

WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

IN TRANSITION

BARRY EDELSTEIN FROM EAST TO WEST BY ALYSSA

DVORAK

Artistic Director Barry Edelstein’s window overlooks a picturesque canyon, beneath a sky that was cloudless and blue on the day he spoke with SDC. Balboa Park, the famous home to San Diego’s renowned Old Globe theatre, contrasts sharply with chillier New York City, Edelstein’s previous home, where he built a career based on both freelance directing and artistic leadership. November 2013 marks one year since Edelstein officially became the newest Artistic Director at The Old Globe theatre. “I feel a little bit like I’ve been shot out of cannon,” says Edelstein on his transition across the country into his new position. Although The Old Globe is not his first artistic director position, having served as the A.D. of Classic Stage Company in New York from 1998 to 2003, the move was still “a step into a considerably bigger job.” Edelstein served as the Director of The Public Theater’s Shakespeare Initiative in New York City from 2007 to 2012. “Everything that I learned at The Public I’ve been able to bring into The Old Globe and I wouldn’t have been able to be at The Old Globe without the five years that I spent at The Public,” he says. Edelstein attributes much of his knowledge about running a large theatre to his time spent working with The Public’s Artistic Director, Oskar Eustis. At times, Edelstein sits in his office and asks himself, “WWOD…what would Oskar do?” “The job is so big; there are a lot of different components…It’s kind of a juggling act to keep it all going.” Given the often daunting financial, organizational, and artistic

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elements of his position, a solid balance between his institutional responsibility and his craft as a director is definitely required. “I have to work hard to make sure I am protecting time for my own artistic work, as well as the time I need to spend with the artists that are here,” says Edelstein. “I am responsible for all of the art that is on our stages, and for keeping it at a certain level and making sure it serves our mission as well as it possibly can.” As artistic director, Edelstein directs only a few productions of his own each season at The Old Globe. “When you make a decision to leave freelance directing and enter into the staff level of an institution, you’re making a commitment to direct less.” However, he has not found himself at a loss for artistic gratification; rather, the collaborations he regularly engages in with visiting artists have more than sustained his personal creativity. “I have found that my collaborations with other directors are incredibly fulfilling.” Since joining The Old Globe, Edelstein has worked with both Alex Timbers and Davis McCallum on different productions this season. The “level of engagement with their artistic process felt very directorial to me in a way that I love,” he elaborates. “There is a real sense of pride in producing someone else’s work.” Edelstein has also recognized that his own directorial style has changed as a result of the structure his new position provides. Currently in the design process for his upcoming show in 2014, he has found that

there are “fewer dead ends and fewer false moves” in the process of directing. “I find that I waste less energy and less time,” he says. It’s ultimately a much more efficient process. Freelance directors have the ability to spend hours simply thinking about a production and considering all possible concepts, angles, and directions. Artistic directors don’t have that time to wander and think about a production. They are required to be very quick and confident in the ideas they present to their production staff. Edelstein and his family find San Diego to be a “wonderful and incredibly livable city. The entire community has been just extraordinarily welcoming and excited about what I’m trying to do. It’s been heartwarming.” The Old Globe, founded in 1935, holds a great deal of importance within San Diego’s community. “The health of the Globe is crucial to the artistic landscape of all of Southern California,” explains Edelstein. “The place has a prominence and a role in the community that is very, very different than a New York theatre. We are extremely prominent and extremely important to the ecosystem of theatres here in town.” Because there are hundreds of theatres in New York City, no single institution can dominate the scene, but in smaller San Diego, the Globe has an uncommon prominence. “People want to know The Old Globe is in good hands,” Edelstein says. Indeed, it appears that it has been put in very good hands.

BARRY EDELSTEIN since 1995 | OSKAR EUSTIS since 1997 | DAVIS MCCALLUM since 2004 | ALEX TIMBERS since 2006

The Start of a Community New York Theatre Workshop’s 2050 Fellowship BY MARK

DUNCAN

Will Davis working with playwright Lisa D’Amour in rehearsal for The Cataract at UT Austin

“How do we define diversity? Whose stories aren’t being told? What lies ahead for our world?” These are the questions posed by New York Theatre Workshop in its request for applications for the newly rechristened 2050 Fellowship program. The application goes on to state that “The U.S. Census Bureau expects that by the year 2050, there will be 439 million Americans (there are 312 million of us now) and for the first time, there will be no single racial or ethnic majority. These projections provoke thoughts about the transformations that will take place in the American landscape over the next 37 years— technologically, environmentally, demographically, and artistically.” NYTW has a long history of providing much-needed support for directors and other artists at every level of their careers. Through the “workshop” arm of their operations, NYTW provides numerous artistic development opportunities such as summer residences, a weekly reading series, a network of affiliated artists, and even an international cultural exchange initiative for artists, to name a few. The fellowship itself, since its inception in the mid-’90s, has continuously evolved to adapt to the changing needs of artists and the industry. Most recently it was the “Emerging Artists Fellowship”; before that, it was the “Emerging Artists of Color Fellowship.” As Artistic Director Jim Nicola puts it, “The expansion to the 2050 Fellowship program is not only about addressing the inequalities of today’s world, although that certainly is important, but it is also about thinking about how the theatre will reconstitute itself in the future. With this fellowship, we are trying to support artists who are going to be giving us the first inklings of what these changes are.” At the heart of the fellowship is the idea of support. As Literary Associate Aaron Malkin, who helps run the program, said, “I think the goal is making sure there is a next generation of artists.” Providing this sort of program is instrumental for emerging directors, according to former fellow Ed Sylvanus Iskandar, especially for artists who are working with “untraditional” structures and modes of storytelling. “The core of our identity and our aesthetic is being shaped and built at the very beginning of our careers, and that’s when we’re in the most need PIRRONNE YOUSEFZADEH Accs. since 2013

of work and exposure.” This idea of having the chance to do your own work as a young artist is reiterated by another former fellow, director Pirronne Yousefzadeh. “The craft is really only ever developed through practice. As valuable as assistant directing can be, I think young directors need to get into rooms to make work most of all.” The first class of the 2050 Fellows, composed of four directors and two playwrights, is already at work exploring their unique perspectives on the art form, while the selection of the next class is under way. Will Davis, one of the directors in this first group, said that the fellowship offers him a chance “to really get inside my own craft and my own practice as a director and theatremaker and it’s not tied to me needing to do a certain number of readings. The fact that I’ve been able to tailor it to how I make theatre is incredibly unique.” For NYTW, this means opening their doors to the fellows, welcoming them into their extensive community of artists, and sharing the knowledge and resources of the institution. “They’re invited to all of our artistic meetings, staff meetings, readings, whatever they want to be a part of,” says Malkin. “We say you can come and sit here and listen to how we talk about programming, how we talk about what excites us or what doesn’t excite us. It’s about creating a more transparent situation. The more artists can know about what happens in institutions and institutions can understand on a basic level what artists need, the better the art is.” Access to the institution and the support it could provide was crucial in Iskandar’s development; it helped him establish his own company, Exit Pursued By a Bear (EPBB), which performs works-in-progress through labs presented in loft spaces in New York City—all in a socially immersive event for the audience and artists alike. “This was the thing I wanted to develop while I was there as a fellow and NYTW ended up providing all of the administrative resources to support that organization.” The resources Iskandar mentions are seemingly minor— access to a photocopier, chairs for audience members attending the first lab in Ed’s apartment, as well as the advice and feedback of the WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

artistic staff—but it made a huge impact for him as an emerging artist. “It was a pretty significant piece of support and something that I’ll always be thankful for. I can pretty much say any professional opportunity I’ve been able to realize in my career has come directly out of that association with NYTW and EPBB.” Each year, a fellowship liaison works with the fellows and staff to determine various fellowship activities for the year. This year, directing fellow Lileana Blain-Cruz will organize the fellows’ monthly meetings with the artistic staff or a master artist—Ruben SantiagoHudson attended a recent meeting to discuss his career)—and schedule group outings, such as attending performances or visiting a museum to view performance art archives. But the real centerpiece of the fellowship is the two work sessions that each fellow is given during the course of the season—one in the fall and one in the spring. This is the time that is set aside for fellows to explore in depth the projects that they are working on. With such a diverse group of artists working on pieces in various stages of development, the work session naturally varies for each fellow—some use the time for conversations, some want to work on the movement of a piece, some the dramaturgy, and some are working to create entirely new devised pieces. The fellows build the work session to suit their own needs and decide who attends the final presentation. “We talk about it more as an ‘artistic’ development opportunity rather than a ‘professional’ development opportunity. It’s really about process and making a mess and not worrying about this being the one chance for these eight people to come see your work,” says Malkin. This is especially useful for directors who want to create devised work. “The opportunity to develop new work in safe spaces, particularly work that isn’t in relation to a playwright, is very rare,” says Blain-Cruz. “That limits the opportunities to find my story in different ways and different media; there really aren’t many places for that kind of development.” Yousefzadeh, who is gaining attention for her devised work, offers an explanation for the lack of developmental opportunities: “I think for directors devised work is the hardest to support, because it requires more time, space, and resources than working on the draft of a play around the table.” But the freedom from one set structure within NYTW’s 2050 Fellowship program has given both these artists the opportunity to hone this part of their craft. While Yousefzadeh was in residence at NYTW, her work sessions were focused on developing a devised piece about society’s relationship to food. Since beginning that work over three years ago, the piece, now titled And If You Lose Your Way, or A Food Odyssey, has continued to be refined and will get its first full production this June at the Invisible Dog Art Center in Brooklyn with support from the Mud/ Bone Collective. For this production, Yousefzadeh was awarded

the Denham Fellowship from the SDC Foundation. This award is given annually to a young director to cover or augment their fee on a project that represents a significant step in their career and that further develops their directing skills and artistry. “Without the workshop’s support in the early phases, I’m not sure this piece would exist right now. Having the chance to spend time exploring devised work at NYTW allowed it to become a bigger part of my life,” Yousefzadeh continues. “From there, people and companies who are associated with the workshop got to know me as not just a director of new plays, but as a devised theatremaker, too.” Another way that the program helps foster these sorts of connections is through pairing each fellow with an established director to serve as their mentor for the duration of the fellowship. The mentor is there to provide another voice and guidance as the fellows explore their projects and craft. For this fellowship year, Will Davis is being mentored by Anne Kauffman, who will attend three of the five days of his work session this fall to listen and provide feedback. “I’m working on the same piece all year. In the spring, I’m going to do a more formal presentation, so I’m really looking forward to being able to chat with Anne all the way through May about this piece,” Will said. “The notion that there’s a director who’s willing to mentor me and I’m not buying Anne Kauffmann coffee or making her copies—I’m not AD-ing for her—it’s a totally different paradigm. She just made herself available totally authentically as a mentor to my project. What a gift is that!” “I feel very strongly that I’m going to learn a lot from Will, too,” says Kauffman. “I always say to my students, ‘we all have the exact same problems—I just have a little more experience dealing with them.’ So that’s how I view mentorship; it’s just a very rigorous conversation. The fact that I’m called a mentor just gives us the space to have that conversation.” It is just that sort of collegiality that seems to make the fellowship such a successful environment for emerging directors, which helps to set their careers in motion. “The NYTW Fellowship gave me the initial start of a community. That’s what it feels like when you become a fellow there,” says Iskandar. “It immediately starts the process of getting you hooked into a larger artistic community from whom you can start finding collaborators and work.” And while the first class of the 2050 Fellows continues to delve into how to create unique, diverse work, so too is New York Theatre Workshop. Nicola acknowledges that, in general, “There is an egregious lack of support for the director in the American theatre. This is very much on our minds and we look forward to continuing to address this problem in the coming years.”

Shetler Studios & Theatres is a center for entertainment professionals in the heart of New York’s Theatre District, offering a unique infrastructure that supports projects from audition through rehearsal to performance. 244 West 54th Street, 12th Floor & Penthouse btw Broadway & 8th Avenue (212) 246-6655 info@shelterstudios.com 16

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ANNE KAUFFMAN since 2005 | RUBEN SANTIAGO-HUDSON since 2006

Mark Lamos VIBRATIONS OF TRUTH INTERVIEW BY GERARD

RAYMOND

hen it comes to stage direction, Mark Lamos has done it all. Or

nearly so. This “poet of the theater,” as the New York Times has called him, is a director of plays, musicals, and opera who has led two prominent theatre companies. Now 67, Lamos began his stage career as an actor, first in his native Chicago and then on Broadway and in regional theatre, most notably at the Guthrie in Minneapolis, as well as at San Diego’s Old Globe. He spent 17 seasons as Artistic Director of Connecticut’s Hartford Stage (1980–1998); there he staged acclaimed productions of many classics, including 14 Shakespeare plays as well as a cycle of Ibsen dramas, including Peer Gynt, starring Richard Thomas. During his tenure, the theatre premiered new work by Tony Kushner, Simon Gray, Tom Stoppard, Richard Foreman, Anne Bogart, and many others. He has been the Artistic Director of the Westport Country Playhouse since 2009. In addition to working extensively on Broadway, Off-Broadway, and in regional theatres across North America, Lamos has staged operas for more than a dozen companies in the U.S. and Europe, including the Metropolitan Opera, Lyric Opera of Chicago, the Santa Fe, Los Angeles, and San Francisco Operas, and Glimmerglass. Many of these productions have been televised on PBS’s Great Performances. Theatre journalist Gerard Raymond joined Lamos at the SDC offices in late November for a conversation about directing. The

PHOTO

of their chat.

Kathleen O’Rourke

following interview is an edited transcript

ANNE BOGART since 1990 | RICHARD FOREMAN since 1976 | MARK LAMOS since 1986

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I want to begin by asking what interests you most about directing as a craft. It’s so slippery to talk about the craft of directing. Acting is an art, but directing is craftsmanship—and it always changes. The way you build the ship is different time and again. Very often you study a text and you think, “I know exactly how this should work.” And then you get in the rehearsal room and the energy takes you in a new direction. You have to abandon many of the assumptions you’ve made. The minute you think, “Oh, I know what this is,” or, “I know what this actress is capable of,” or, “Let’s cast this gentleman because he’s going to deliver that a certain way,” your expectations are sometimes upended. Often for the better, but sometimes not. But this is the essence of the act of creation. Mistakes. Reversals. Revelations. You have to watch for them and embrace them. At Hartford Stage you were known especially for staging large-scale productions of the classics. I had the chance to work at Hartford on its large stage at a moment in time when the board was interested in having a director who wanted to explore classical theatre. There was an audience that wanted Shakespeare, Ibsen, and Molière, which is unusual. It was the 1980s, and foundations supported large-scale work. It was a good synergy, a good connection of a community that was into theatre in that way and a person who could explore it with them. At the time I became hooked by the Wooster Group, Robert Wilson, and Andrei Serban’s work at ART. Peter Sellars was just starting to do his stuff. That all was fomenting at the same time that I was doing these enormous, largescale, highly visual productions of classic plays. I was very much influenced by an incomparable designer with whom I worked for many years, John Conklin. He led me to thinking about the theatre in new ways. Another designer, Michael Yeargan, was also a huge influence. They always surprised me. The dramaturgy began with them. You once said that you almost always approach a classic play via conversations with the designer, which helps generate how you’re thinking about the play. Is that still the case? To a lesser extent now. I try to keep my mind a blank canvas as long as possible. Sometimes the whole picture of what the production will look like just springs out of the negotiation between your subconscious and the text and you can communicate it to a designer. Sometimes the designer says, “I have this amazing idea, here’s a photo,” and you think, “My God, that’s it!”

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Any specific examples? I did A Midsummer Night’s Dream a few years ago at the Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington, D.C. I’d had “Athens, Georgia” in the back of my head, but it wasn’t coalescing. The fairies African American, the Athenians white, but it seemed unwieldy and arch to me. At the first design meeting, Constance Hoffman, a longtime collaborator of mine, showed us a book of photographs by Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison, and that was the production. Everything from there on out had its blueprint in those magically bizarre, very “arranged” photos. At once artificial and real – like Shakespeare. In those instances, at least, it sounds like your conception of the production coalesced around your conversation with the designers. It’s rare that I can begin auditioning actors before a design deadline, but when I begin to hear the play, I almost always immediately move toward a decision about the look. I might see an actor for a role who seems like

“Acting

is an art,

but directing

is craftsmanship — and it always changes.”

an unlikely match, and suddenly realize that something she’s doing has unlocked an idea in the text for me. The production can shift dramatically if you offer her that role. I wait for as many influences as possible before I have to lose my freedom and stick with my choices. Joseph Brodsky said, “Every choice is a flight from freedom.” I’ve just been asked to direct Two Gentlemen of Verona, which is new to me. Reading the play, my first realization was, “Oh, Shakespeare did this better in Twelfth Night and that better in Much Ado About Nothing.” But the play began to grip me. I thought, “Wait, stop thinking of this as a comedy. Just think of it as people being people, and having needs, sexual and otherwise.” And then something opened up to me. I have to remember that Shakespeare was always experimenting. It’s an early experiment, yes, but it must be allowed to breathe. It’s so fresh. I’m thinking of setting it in the period in which he wrote it. I’ll discover more about it than if I set it in, say, the Wild West or Paramus.

That’s one of the most important decisions you make about Shakespeare: what era to set the play in. In the early ’80s, I used to feel very strongly that it was important to do Shakespeare in contemporary dress, and to explore the collision of Elizabethan thought and language with the sensibility of the modern mind, with a modern-looking man and woman, a desk and a chair and a telephone. Now I find that period clothing really feeds me. It’s beautiful to look at. It’s intriguing for the actors to get into. If they let it work on them, they move through to a new way of thinking about every aspect of their characters. I don’t feel it makes the language pretty and distant, and I don’t feel audiences think of it that way, either. It’s important for me to see Hedda Gabler in a bustle and a corset. How we fabricate ourselves through clothing! That intrigues me no end. For Two Gentlemen of Verona, [Old Globe Artistic Director] Barry Edelstein asked what I am thinking about for design. I said, “It seems such an Elizabethan play, with such youthful Elizabethan energy.” And he said, “If you set this play in Elizabethan costumes, my audience would go down on its knees and offer you the keys to the city.” [laughs] So we’ll see. It’s true that modern dress has become de rigueur, and more common feeling that Shakespeare’s comedies need conceptual assistance. That’s an interesting change in perspective. How else would you say you have grown as a director over the years? One of the happiest things about getting older is that you feel more assured, and people look to you for that assurance in the rehearsal process. It’s not the energy of a young director who has to work hard to control a lot of different temperaments, to interact with mature actors, and try to make a stamp—all things I felt myself. I feel more collaborative with actors now. It’s interesting being older and being able to take a long view in working on a play now. I never was more terrified than I was of Room Service [the 1937 farce by John Murray and Allen Boretz], which we programmed in Westport to close last season. And which I’m sure is why I chose to do it. I thought, “Gosh, should another director do this?” And then it was too late to get another director. I was inching toward it all season long, utterly terrified. Studying it felt as if I was reading Sanskrit. “God, this isn’t funny. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Then, the first day of auditions with the brilliant Tara Rubin, the play bloomed, like a dormant seed into an enormous flower. After seeing five actors, I knew exactly what the play needed from me, and how I needed to cast it. And I raced toward it like a lover. Hearing the actors validate all the BARRY EDELSTEIN since 1995 | PETER SELLARS since 1997

design work John Arnone and I had already done. Once we were in the rehearsal hall, it was that maturity of having so many productions behind me that kept me calm in the face of my own doubts, though there were never doubts about the company of absolutely stunning comedic actors. So I opened it up to them, giving them a lot of permission. They brought so much of themselves into the comedy. I became an editor, a collaborator, a delighted audience. It was great fun, so fulfilling. Farce can invite being dictatorial. Instead, I decided that together we would make the production. Speaking of actors, one of the most interesting collaborations in your career has been with Richard Thomas.

I don’t always succeed. I did a production a few years ago in New York where there was huge resistance from three of the actors about how to speak verse. One of them kept saying to me, “People don’t talk like this. People can’t speak this quickly.” They had all these reasons for not following these simple, simple, simple rules. It hurt them in the notices. They were singled out for being incomprehensible. It was awful, but I had to agree.

“One

York would aid and abet that. Also, it’s the perfect proscenium house—it couldn’t be more different than Hartford Stage. Since I had done so much classical work and even revisited some of those big plays, I no longer felt a burning need to concentrate on doing them so often. Yes, they are utterly energizing, but also exhausting. As I was freelancing, doing both big and little plays and operas, I began to enjoy working more with writers, and understanding the dynamics of having the writer in the room and what needs to be done to serve him or her. How much of the director’s job is to help shape the text of a new play? It’s a very interesting question that we deal with at SDC all the time. I don’t want to be too influential. I want to be able to offer my opinions, but that can get the play into trouble if your ideas are so seductive or interesting that the playwright’s vision veers off track. If I can help bring the best out of the actors and search for psychological depth, the writer will be validated or inspired. I always have to think of myself as taking second place to the writer and being very careful about “shaping.”

of the happiest things about getting older is that you feel more assured... It’s not the energy of a young director who has to work hard to control a lot of different temperaments...It’s interesting being older and being able to take a long view in working on a play now.”

Working with Richard was an unusual situation that occurred very happily three or four times. The Peer Gynt was our biggest undertaking together. It was a situation similar, oddly enough, to Room Service, where, as we were getting closer to the production, we would call each other up and say, “What are we doing? I don’t know what this is about. I don’t know what I can bring to it. I’m worried I can’t help you.” And yet, as soon as we began to work on it, the play began to make its own sense, driven very much by Richard’s extraordinary intellectual capacities, his understanding of what is happening in each scene, and by his awareness of the whole play, not just his role. So we relaxed and we played until each scene started to tell us what it was about, instead of us trying to mold it into something. You’re very good at making sure that the classic texts, even difficult ones, speak to a current audience.

Yes, with these great plays you’ve got to get actors who understand that if they are not clear, and if they don’t know how to speak the language, we’re pretty much lost. It sounds Draconian, but there are rules that, if you follow them, will provide clarity. If you don’t, they make for muddleheaded speaking. As a musician, I learned that you can’t play Chopin by the rules of Bach. You can’t play Bach by the rules of Tchaikovsky. If the score is marked rubato or pianissimo, you’ve got to try to achieve that. I work very hard to get everybody on the same page about how to speak the verse and how EDWARD ALBEE since 1974

to listen to it. How to be still. Let the language move instead of your body. Everything that’s spoken in Shakespeare is a very simple idea expressed not in flowery language, but in the most economic way possible. Nuggets of thought.

Does what you just said about speaking the text apply to modern writers as well? Absolutely, yes. To [Edward] Albee and Kushner and O’Neill and Williams and Beckett. It’s not in iambic pentameter, but it’s definitely music. A couple of seasons ago I was directing a revival of Lips Together, Teeth Apart in Westport, and Terrence McNally said, “You’re letting the actors speak too empathetically at times. This is in ‘McNally-speak’ – it just sort of ambles along.” You once told me that classics really energize you, more so than contemporary plays. Has that changed over time? One of the reasons I was attracted to the Westport offer had to do with the desire to work on new writing, with living writers. I thought that Westport’s proximity to New

I must say that I have never read a draft of a play that has changed perceptively by the time it got in front of an audience. Little things, sure. I noticed in Hartford, where I produced two or three new plays a year, that an absolutely marvelous script when I first read it was still a marvelous script when it landed on the stage. Marvin’s Room and Other People’s Money were two cases in point. And a script that needed work when I first read it still needed work on opening night, still needed work when another theatre picked it up or it moved to New York. That’s one of the reasons I’m wary of workshops. Things pretty much either work, or they don’t. Let’s talk a bit about opera. How much is working on a play similar to staging an opera? Not much. The more different and separate those disciplines remain, the more successful I am working in them. Visually it’s the same, though opera requires concept and I design sometimes years in advance of rehearsals. However, actors and opera singers are different animals who need different things. The size of the energy coming out of an opera singer’s body is enormous, even in a small opera house. Actors don’t experience that except for moments in Lear or Hamlet. Now imagine those moments lasting hours. However, if the singer has stage presence as well as musicality, and if he or she can really act, the result is WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

overwhelming. I sometimes think, when I’m working with singers, this is what the ancient Greeks experienced in the theatre – this size, this passion, this overpowering beauty.

Oh my God, I was like a child. Dancers are just amazing. Classical ballet is an extraordinary art form. I don’t know quite why it’s so exciting to me, but I love to watch it.

The great thing about opera, and I’ve said this ad nauseam, is that the singers come totally prepared. The first day in the rehearsal room, you can finish an act of a Verdi opera because they’re already singing the score, they’re inside it. Sometimes they have performed the role in the past, which can be uniquely exciting. You can help them build on what they’ve already achieved. You’re working right away toward a much more complete gestalt. Because of their preparation, you can go so deep. Whereas an actor’s almost always coming to it fresh, carrying his script around as long as possible.

With all your work in opera and now ballet, is the theatre still where you live the fullest? Yes, because I was an actor. I have that in my DNA. When I’m in a room with actors I feel we’re all pretty much starting from the same primordial ooze. It may be hubristic, but I think I can help them best because I don’t have a lot

At the 50th birthday celebration of Hartford Stage, you mentioned that directing is like sending “a letter to the world” that you write with the actors and your collaborators. Could you elaborate?

How do you collaborate with the conductor? You and the conductor have to work in tandem. Sometimes an interesting power struggle goes on, but when the energy is collegial, wonderful things can happen. The conductor will, however, be performing with them in front of an audience. That’s the big difference. It can be very challenging for both the conductor and the stage director, but they have to find a way together, and of course compromise is involved. But I learn a lot from the really fine conductors. Hogwood was great, also Levine, and a number of others. It helps that I was a trained musician. That also helped my recent work at ABT. You’re referring to the American Ballet Theatre, where you worked on Alexei Ratmansky’s ballet of The Tempest this past fall, right? Yes. My contribution was helping tell the story and helping Alexei to clarify what he needed to say through dance. What was a danceable idea and what was not. It was a very collegial experience for everybody. And for me, to be in a room with those extraordinary dancers— that was one of the greatest thrills of my entire life. They had no idea of the plot. They lived completely kinetically. And yet they expressed what needed to be expressed, what Shakespeare had written. I don’t know how it happened. But God, I was amazed. I felt like…I don’t know what. I could have sat there for 24 hours without eating, I loved it so much. I wanted to go up to [ABT Executive Director] Kevin McKenzie and say, “I can help with Swan Lake! I can help with Sleeping Beauty! [laughs] Like Miranda says, “Let me live here forever! Oh brave new world, that has such people in it.” I’ve always loved dance. Seeing it as a child really brought me to the theatre in the first place. Another great moment for me was when I was working in Moscow, going to the Bolshoi and being taken backstage during the bows.

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with four-character scenes in the plays of A.R. Gurney, where the substance of the play is so delicate that if you delve too deeply, you destroy what the playwright’s trying to do. There’s very little conflict in a Gurney play. The characters live in another plane entirely, and you have to be able to keep that alive and afloat moment to moment to moment for an audience to stay invested in them. In a way it’s far more challenging than something from Shakespeare, like, say, “Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.” You know right where you are if you get those lines right. You have conflict. You have sex. You have issues.

“I

don’t want to be too influential.

I want to be able to offer my opinions, but that can get the play into trouble if your ideas are so seductive or interesting that the playwright’s vision veers off track.” of issues about egos. I can move through a lot of stuff relatively easily and get to the thing that will help them unlock something. If I can’t do that, maybe another actor can. I’m an equal opportunity director. To be honest, I’m happy to work on a smaller scale, too. I really love the intimacy of the playhouse in Westport. Some of the most challenging staging I’ve ever had to do is

There are two things that I love most about directing. One is sending that letter, something that you can communicate through a text with a group of actors, designers, and others that expresses your singular vision to a greater or lesser extent, an essence of the play that you want to unlock for the audience. This changes from piece to piece. With Shakespeare or a great classic, I want the audience to go out differently than they came in. I want them to feel the vibrations of truth from the past resonating in their bodies. If I’m doing a play by A. R. Gurney, a certain feeling has to accrue throughout the evening, a very delicate cobweb of meaning and cultural back-history. With a play like Room Service, it’s about believing that there are really some insane people who are doing a certain kind of insane thing in front of you and that they’re human beings just like you. They’re just bigger than you could ever be. More dangerous. What’s the second thing you love about directing? The actual making of the production—working with the actors, collaborating with designers, being in the room where the piece is being made. I love watching actors when they first have the lines under their belts and can get through a scene without needing to stop, or when somebody gets a great idea and just lets it happen. I am excited by the chemistry, the continuous negotiations, first between you and the text, then between you and the actors, then all of you together with the audience. The more I do it, the more I feel endorphins kicking in.

Mark Lamos directing Lips Together, Teeth Apart in 2011 at Westport Country Playhouse PHOTO T. Charles Erickson

Directors at the Helm

All three of the directors touched on the joy they experience in the rehearsal room, and the act of letting go of the piece as it moves out into the public realm.

Several notable American regional theatres celebrate golden anniversaries this season. One of them, Hartford Stage, holds a unique distinction: it has been led over its five decades by five preeminent stage directors, each known for the singularity of his vision. These influential artists are, in chronological order: Jacques Cartier, Paul Weidner, Mark Lamos, Michael Wilson, and the current Artistic Director, Darko Tresnjak.

Three of those past leaders were on hand for the theatre’s 50th anniversary festivities in October. They participated in a public conversation moderated by Theatre Communication Group Executive Director Teresa Eyring, excerpts of which appear below. Is Hartford Stage a “director’s theatre”? DARKO TRESNJAK | I hope so! Part of the reason that I ended up here is that this theatre has been run by directors—by artistic directors who are also directors who matter to me. MARK LAMOS | From the founder to where it’s being led now, this company has always been stamped by a directorial style. That style has always changed, and it has been supported in an extraordinary way. The difference between my aesthetic, and Michael Wilson’s aesthetic, and Darko’s aesthetic alone is an enormous journey for a board, funders, corporations to take. They have supported our visions. They have supported the different ways we each make theatre. Jacques Cartier founded the theatre after completing a degree at the Yale School of Drama in part because he needed work—as a director. He took a cue from Nina Vance, who established Houston’s Alley Theatre. JACQUES CARTIER | When I graduated…I wanted to become a professional director. My choice was [either] go to New York and do whatever it is you do to get such a job; or, alternatively, start a theatre and do what Nina Vance did—hire yourself. I decided to do that, but I had no idea where to do it. I went to see a professor at Yale named John Gassner, and he suggested Hartford. The whole plan was to get a job as a director, and you had to have a theatre to do that.

LAMOS | I am at my absolute happiest in the rehearsal room. I said to Anne Bogart one day, “I am having an endorphin high just watching this stumble-through with the actors.” I’m very, very lucky that I get to be in a room with people making something either beautiful, profound, funny, sad, human, inhuman, something. It’s going to be a letter to the world that we’ll all write together.

Eyring asked Tresnjak about the various demands and rewards that go along with institutional leadership, and what’s different for freelance directors. TRESNJAK | As a director…the first audience really matters. I want [the piece] to be in great shape for the very first audience. I wouldn’t have got to where I have gotten if I hadn’t succeeded quite a few times at that. So as a director I’m used to feeling really good about myself. But as an artistic director, I don’t know how to catch up with all the emails. I have an extraordinary staff that keeps me going, but it’s impossible to keep up these days. It’s really tough, and I’m struggling with that a lot. It’s a very different feeling being a director and working toward a beautiful product. As an artistic director you feel like you nail some things, but you know that somebody’s probably pissed at any given time. Tresnjak also spoke about which productions an artistic director might direct himself—and which plays he might not. TRESNJAK | I have a pretty restless imagination, and I can go in many different directions. But I just know that there are things I don’t really want to direct myself, and it makes me that much more generous with other directors. I’m a Slav and people always assume I’m going to tackle Chekhov, but I’ve realized lately I don’t have a feel for him. There are a few Arthur Miller plays that I would like to direct myself. I don’t think I myself would do Tennessee Williams right now, because I would be in Michael [Wilson’s] shadow. If I had followed Mark directly, I probably wouldn’t do Shakespeare. It’s the timing, it’s all the timing.

CARTIER | I’ve always felt the director has a great privilege to be in the rehearsal room when it’s coming together. Nobody else is seeing it quite from that perspective, and that’s really what a life in the theatre primarily ought to be: making productions. LAMOS | James Levine, when I was working at the Met on some production—it was the final dress rehearsal—came up the aisle to the production desk and said, “Well, that’s the last time we get to have it.” It wasn’t ours anymore. It was a terribly empty feeling, but it was also such a great feeling. TRESNJAK | It’s a wonderfully irrational addiction to a perfect moment that’s going to go by. I have moments when I’m a complete monster in pursuit of that perfect moment. Then I look at my life from the outside—how weird! But you have to have it. Eyring asked about how economic realities had changed the way the directors worked when at the helm. Lamos said he eventually found that with shrinking budgets, life outside the company began to offer more and more opportunities to do large-scale work, including opera. But Tresnjak had a different take on how the economy has affected programming. TRESNJAK | The one thing that I would say that the economy has done lately, and I know this from talking to my fellow artistic directors who direct, is that we’re less shy about wanting productions that are going to make us really happy that we want to direct ourselves. It’s essential, because there’s more pressure in the job. So doing a show in the season that gives me a great deal of joy simply matters.

David Hawkanson, former Managing Director; Mark Lamos, former A.D.; Teresa Eyring, Executive Director, TCG; Jacques Cartier, inaugural A.D.; Darko Tresnjak, current A.D. + Michael Stotts, current Managing Director PHOTO The Defining Photo PHOTO

ANNE BOGART since 1990 | MARK LAMOS since 1986 | DARKO TRESNJAK since 2000 | MICHAEL WILSON since 1993

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REDISCOVERING THE STRUGGLE OF ROCKY BALBOA SDC JOURNAL

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Walter McBride PHOTOS

INTERVIEW BY

MATTHEW PAUL OLMOS KELLY DEVINE since 2005 | STEVEN HOGGETT since 2010 | ALEX TIMBERS since 2006

e meet overlooking the lights of Times Square on the 17th floor of the Stage Directors and Choreographers Society office. Director ALEX TIMBERS and choreographers KELLY DEVINE and STEVEN HOGGETT have an intimacy from past collaborations, but they havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t seen each other in a while. The feeling in the room is that of people who spent time together overseas finally meeting up again back home, which is fitting since Alex, Kelly, and Steven were recently together in Hamburg, Germany, for the world premiere of Rocky the Musical (book by Sylvester Stallone and Thomas Meehan; music and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty). Alex directed, Kelly choreographed, and Steven choreographed the fights. The show garnered rave reviews in Germany and they are now prepping for the Broadway production in New York this February at the Winter Garden Theatre. What struck me about our 90-minute conversation was how, with such intelligence and craft, the artists involved in this rather large-scale project have found their way around the initial skepticism that a musical based on Rocky Balboa might invite. Instead, they spoke both excitedly and smartly about the more personal and darker side to this project that focuses on the heart, pain, and triumph of this hero we all know so well. WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Rocky is something everyone has a relationship with; before the project came about what was your personal connection to Rocky Balboa? KELLY | The story of the films always inspired me; growing up as a dancer, it’s so competitive, and there’ll be 300 people in a room and they need one girl. And seeing Rocky’s story and him just needing that last shot to make something of himself and being so courageous always really inspired me. So I was a huge fan. I don’t think I’ve ever watched any of them, even again, without getting choked up toward the end. That’s funny because I read a quote from Sylvester Stallone where he talks about how it’s a story of getting recognition and I feel like, as artists, part of our journey is finding that recognition. ALEX | He wrote this story because he was a struggling out-of-work actor, but then he realized that no one would care about that; and so he made him (the character) a boxer. So it is applicable to being an artist, for sure. STEVEN | In the UK it’s an American icon. And I remember I wasn’t old enough to go and see the first two films at a movie theatre. So my mom and dad used to let us stay up late and watch the Rocky movies. And we were just blown away by them. And then when I got to see Rocky III in a movie theatre you just felt like [it was] this track of events that got bigger and more spectacular. ALEX | I had less of a connection. I had never seen one in the theatre. I had thought they were movies about boxing. And so that really didn’t hold much interest for me. And it was actually getting involved in this project that led me to the movies, and I was surprised, when I saw the first one, that it plays like an indie film. It’s really quiet, really intimate. It’s very behavioral and the acting has a real honesty to it. So I was blown away by the fact that it’s not really a boxing story. It’s a love story with boxing as a backdrop. Were there parts that you were excited about artistically when you found out you were going to be involved? STEVEN | Yeah. It’s a beautiful piece of filmmaking, but it’s very distilled, it’s very pure. It was made on very little, and sometimes those movies have very little in the way of excess. And then just trying to find a choreographic language through that that wasn’t just blokes punching each other. I was as fascinated by what was outside my immediate territory of what the show might be or what it might do. KELLY | I was nervous about the training sequences because in the films they’re so big.

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And Rocky jogs all through Philadelphia and then he goes up the steps. And he’s in the gym and boxing, having lots of sparring partners. And they take place in so many locations and they’re long shots. But Alex was great. He just had so many great ideas about how to achieve that kind of movement and expansion and motion, and keep it exciting where you feel like you’re on a run with him, which was the part I didn’t know how you were going to pull off.

KELLY | I had heard years ago that Stephen (Flaherty) and Lynn (Ahrens) were working on this show and then I heard Alex was attached. Then my agent called and said Alex wanted me to come and meet with everybody and I was over the moon. It was one of those moments I was just like, “I absolutely have to get this job.” The love of the movies; we’ve worked together before; I enjoy working with him. I just thought it could be really something special.

ALEX | Yeah, I got invited to this reading and I think, like most people, I had this really skeptical reaction, like, Rocky the Musical? I thought there was a pretty good chance this was going to be very silly. But I found myself incredibly moved by it. And the thing I got most excited about was the challenge of the world creation. How do you make a world that feels gritty and authentic? I mean, whenever I see musicals, I think it’s always a great challenge for the director and the designers to render blue collar characters in a way that feels true to life. And how do you convey a darkness and a sense of real danger? And so I started thinking as an experiment about how would David Fincher stage this. The fights need to feel really real and all the movement needs to feel incredibly masculine. And then the other challenge was how do you deliver something that telescopes between something intimate and then something that has a real sense of spectacle? Because that final fight wants to feel in-your-face and visceral and as exciting as it is to go to a real boxing match. But the book scenes need to feel really small and intimate, like you’re upstairs at Playwrights Horizons watching a play.

Were you all nervous at all about taking on the job? Or were you just excited?

There are scenes in this show, and this is one of the things I loved about it, too, like eight-minute-long dialogue scenes. It feels suddenly like a kitchen sink drama. And so how do you provide the David Fincher meets Eugene O’Neill version while still delivering the pleasure principles of an American musical? What was your reaction? I’m assuming you heard about it before you were involved. STEVEN | My agent told me he was going in and said, “It’s going to be terrible. I’m going to go anyway.” And after—he’s not a man that’s brought easily to tears—he’s saying, “Okay. I’m not going to leave here until I’ve got you this job. It’s simply amazing.” And then I was sent some of the recordings of some of the songs. One of the things for me particularly is a musical can really live or die by each number and how cheesy are they. And actually they’re really, really sophisticated; they feel like authentic blue-collar numbers. They don’t pop out of nowhere. They weave out and emerge through a character and plot, then just submerge themselves back in. It’s really elegant, what they’ve done with the music.

ALEX | Oh, yeah. Hugely nervous. KELLY | I was terrified, yeah. It’s a big show. It was a very big show. And the workshop was nerve-wracking, but very exciting. The things that we wanted to explore to see if they would really work in a theatre setting. Steven worked on that big final fight. And then the next step, of course, was going to Germany. And so here we’re going to do a full-out production in German with German actors. There were so many unknowns. The set didn’t work for the first few days. It was just thrilling and terrifying at the same time. ALEX | The workshop that Kelly mentioned, I have to say, was one of the most exciting theatrical experiences I’ve ever been a part of. We did this very unconventional workshop out at the Brooklyn Lyceum, which I think might now be condemned. KELLY | It just got sold, or something. ALEX | It’s a former public bath. And we had two floors; so we had a floor that was boarded over the former pool. And it was grimy. It had a catwalk. And the bathrooms were these sort of unisex— KELLY | Outhouses. ALEX | You really felt like you were going to get maybe stabbed anytime you went to the bathroom. And then on a second floor with this concrete level was where we had the ring. And we had scaffolding set up and seating and tons of lights and video and smoke and strobes. So you went through the first hour and 40 [minutes] of the musical which was a standard reading with music stands, and then suddenly the audience went up to the second level where there was this fully realized arena experience with a Jumbotron. And they had Hoggett’s fighting and the whole ring. It was truly one of those Wagnerian total-theatre moments, of every story, emotion, movement, design all operating together to create this finale. I’m curious what you researched and what was the next step in your process. STEVEN | I’d spoken to Alex about which of the movies was the most visceral and Rocky II

had the most bite and just the darkest, I think, of all of them. So, in some ways, it was quite straightforward as a starting point. And it is brilliant. I mean, if you look at [Rocky] I to II, it’s put together incredibly sophisticated, and the way in which it’s shot. And how do you go, walking us through, from watching how it’s filmed to beginning your process? STEVEN | It’s like choreography. It’s a duet between two men for the ebb and flow and cadences of that. Then the fights in Rocky, they’re incredibly well put together as visual, physical narrative. But the mood is very dark. I would say it’s like when Muhammad Ali came back after Vietnam and suddenly the psychology of his fighting technique was dark. It was a dark experience. So, in lots of ways it ties in with a way which America was looking at boxing post-Vietnam, when Ali stopped being the showman. KELLY | I went through all of the Rocky movies, just looking for Rocky’s most interesting training methods. It actually didn’t matter who he was fighting, whether it was Drago with the high-tech machinery—they cut to Rocky running in the snow with wood blocks on his shoulders and hanging from these steel bars, just doing sit-ups like a bat upside-down. So I went through all those to see which ones could be useful onstage. And then as far as some of the more musical numbers with the women in the show and Apollo as a “musicalized” number, just lots of ’70s disco, old-school videos, TV shows, variety shows, just to sort of get the authenticity of the style and how people really moved back then. And also a show like Soul Train; the people that we meet—you’re meeting very real characters, people from Philly. They’re not professional dancers. So, to just have that to be fun and entertaining and engaging movement-wise, but still look like it’s natural, and of the period and cool.

SAM SHEPARD since 2000

ALEX | I started actually at the New York Public Library picture collection. And I assembled pictures, like, “Oh, this is Mickey…This is what Philadelphia looks like.” And then I was thinking I want the design to feel more like Billy Elliot than a conventional musical; to have this working-class authenticity and have the set be simple and multi-purpose but never too clever or overscale. I don’t want giant rooms coming up out of the floor. The details of the design pull from all sorts of sources. The wallpaper in the show is the wallpaper from the movie Trainspotting. And there’s stuff from books of schools leftover after nuclear meltdowns. Like Chernobyl and also Ellis Island imagery. I love doing these shows that don’t take place today and exist in their own worlds, but where you find the analogs to today, the visual design aesthetic analogs. And so a lot of it was like, okay, 1975, yes, but how to make this really relatable and have a recognizable contemporary energy? And then the other big discovery was in Germany; we had a limitation, which was that we didn’t have any traps there. And there’s a fight at the beginning and a fight at the end. And you’ve got this ring. You have to have a ring, right? It can’t be some stylized thing. And so we can’t sink the ring into the floor. You can’t get the ring off in the wings. It’s way too big. So one of the first ideas that Chris (Barreca, set designer) and I had was to have the ring have a lighting grid underneath it and actually fly it up, and to have it suck up into the grid and be able to light scenes. And then the next idea that came out of it was to make the rooms come out like filing cabinets and have the ring become the roof for these scenes; it’s a metaphoric value to have this ring hanging over the characters’ heads; you could really create a full three-dimensional environment wherein suddenly a 5’6” person is scaled to the size of rooms and you feel the humanity and authenticity and naturalism in

that richer way. And it suddenly can feel like a Sam Shepard play instead. To cage the heat a little bit in that way so it really comes directly out to the audience. The temperature of the world was your way in. ALEX | Yeah. And I’m really crazy about color. I like really contained color palettes. What was nice was the world was going to feel very monochromatic and gray and inky black, but then the rooms would really explode with color. Jumping a little bit, what was Stallone’s involvement? ALEX | Stallone is the father of this whole thing. And Stallone and Tom (Thomas Meehan) were together at the beginning of this journey, which has to be like seven or eight years (ago). A lot of the dialogue is his. At the opening in Germany, Stallone had all these really fantastic notes. And he’s really interested in it all because this is his life. He’s very interested in the character of Rocky. He’s done this remarkable dance of being involved in the details that matter while also freeing everyone to make the show. What was the collaboration like with Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens like? What was that process like? STEVEN | Slightly intimidating; not because of those people, but just their work. And they stayed in the room for a bit longer than I thought. So then that became really exciting then. It was great just to think that they were asking us what we were doing and what the avenues were that we were exploring so they could be part of how they would then go back and score certain sections. And that’s not what I expected from those guys. KELLY | I was nervous, too, just knowing their body of work. I was really surprised Stephen and Lynn are like excited teenagers about this project. Their energy and enthusiasm. Even in WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Hamburg, Stephen would be up till 2:00 a.m. And [when] we’d be down in the morning, he’d be like, “Okay. So I wrote this section. What do you think?” And they’re just so talented. They’re just really, really talented and really generous. And I always felt very, very listened to and included. And they’d always ask, “Does this feel right? How is this tempo?” Stephen was like, “Do you like these words?” Or Lynn would say, “Are these good disco terms to use?”

about rearranging the room. So you’re in the gym. And then you’re on the street. And then you’re at the meatpacking place. And then just exploring how the musical numbers would come to life physically; choreographically what’s the right style, what’s the right tone. How to make it still feel very natural for these characters and not look like a big production number, yet have all of the payoff and feeling and energy of a production number.

ALEX | One of the reasons I like tech so much is because it’s the most collaborative time. You bring in all these different fabulous designers and movement people. And then everyone is collaborating at the same time with the writers and actors. And you’re getting to oversee that as director. The cross-department work therefore is the most fun for me. For example, one of my favorite times working with the authors out in Germany was on the first montage, where Rocky is going through the Philadelphia streets. There’s a lot of moving scenery with video mapped to it. And Kelly was trying different vocabularies for how Rocky would run and different ideas of how to create cinematic wipes and a sense of forward movement, even though the actor is technically stuck in a box that is our stage. And our composer Stephen Flaherty literally [would] take the videos and score it like it was a movie. It was like this really cool dialogue: he’s asks, “Well, what about this?” and then Kelly would be like, “Well, I’d like to have this happen.” And then the set designer would be like, “I can’t make it happen that fast and so you have to slow this down.” One of the things that I take away most from Stephen is as opposed to working with writers who feel sometimes when you ask for a rewrite it’s some sort of criticism, he gets so inspired by rewrites. He madly wants to rewrite and when you have that at the center of the creative process, it really inspires everyone else to try to do their best.

Now, did you two (Kelly and Steven) talk at all about the relationship between the movement of the piece and the actual fight choreography?

Then the workshop (in Brooklyn) takes place. What was the timeline between the workshop and Germany? ALEX | It was like a year later. And the thing that I loved about this process of building the show (in the workshop) is that I feel like even though the boxing is Steven’s, and all the dance and movement is Kelly’s, and the blocking is mine, it hasn’t been strictly. In the first boxing workshop, Kelly would help with how the ring girls moved. Then when Kelly is doing some movement, Steven has gotten in there and helped with how the boxers move. And even with staging, whether it be how Rocky picks up Adrian, Kelly will step in and work on the staging with me and the actors. So it all hopefully feels seamless. KELLY | We wanted to see what it would be like to do some training montage-y moment in a box, without anywhere to go. We had some sliders. We had some platforms. So it was

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STEVEN | Well, they’re in the same worlds. And we’d look at it and [say], “Okay. Is that good or is it bad? And does it look authentic?” KELLY | “That’s not butch enough. That looks soft. I wouldn’t do that.” STEVEN | We were just finding our palette for the piece. There’s something about that kind of world that it didn’t have to be too overblown. ALEX | I think so much about directing and choreography is about taste. And I think workshopping is a real helpful process where you can say, “Here’s what I want it to feel like. I don’t quite technically know how to make that work, but let’s all get in a room, let’s try a bunch of stuff, and then the right solution will become self-evident.” I’m a big boxing fan, but obviously there’s a difference between real-life boxing and the Rocky cinematic boxing. What was the language you all wanted for this? STEVEN | We’ve got the best of both worlds in the sense that we fuck with time. We present 15 rounds over 12 minutes. So time compresses and then elongates several times. That was the thinking behind it; that we’re able to keep on with the narrative. Who is on top at any given time. It needs to be treated as a piece of theatre in terms of: there is narrative. It has to be very clear, it has to be very clean, what is going on. So the form of it is what helps us. It seems what you were talking about earlier, the grittiness of it, is intact and one of the elements people are responding to. Why do you suppose that is? ALEX | Rocky is a man in existential crisis, in this incredibly bleak, dangerous city, with no hope of getting out. And what’s incredible about him is his unlimited ability to absorb punishment, both physical, but also emotional. And so I think if you’re creating the landscape in which that makes sense, then it’s a brutal and dark world. KELLY | I think that our ensemble, throughout the show—it’s really important that you think

that they could actually be boxers. They need to look like boxers. They need to be tough. They need to be imposing and not just look like a musical theatre chorus person. If there’s no sense of danger or reality to it, it’s just going to feel soft and not nearly as tough. STEVEN | Working-class people find a new way of looking at their lives and the planet. And so I think that’s when you authenticate boxing; it’s about low working class actually more than anything else. So for me there’s something about that; the piece is very true to that. And it’s a very big show, but it’s a very small event in lots of ways because we wanted it to be very real. Was there any cultural difference? Anything that changes from Germany to New York because of the different culture that will be watching it? ALEX | There were no, “Oh, in Germany it has to be like this,” except in the curtain call, weirdly enough. In the curtain call (in Germany), audiences love to clap along. And they love incredibly long curtain calls. In fact, in The Lion King, they had to remove all the music from the curtain call just to signal to the audience they should leave eventually. STEVEN | If you’re taking hold of Rocky, then you are taking up something that’s very close to heart of a lot of American people. So I think from the get-go that’s always been a kind of a thing for everybody, really. For me, I’ve got a very tourist view of what this means. So what is the process in terms of rehearsing here? KELLY | Four weeks and some change. With little extra days in there to do some sort of preproduction stuff and things that take longer, you have a little more time working with guys with the fight because it’s really extremely intricate. And it’s really difficult and it takes a very long time for them to learn and to get it to the right place. Is there a moment, something that you accomplished, or a challenge that is really important to you from the experience? STEVEN | This might have to be off the record, but I remember on opening night I sat next to Kelly and we sat on the stage and we were watching this thing, this opus we’ve made. And through the middle of it all we could see Stallone in his seat and his face was just glowing. And that was amazing for me, actually, just to take hold of Kelly’s hand and the two of us—it had been so long. I mean, we were so tired and we just wanted to come home. But it was this brilliant moment on this brilliant night. And that was an amazing, absolutely beautiful moment just thinking this happened. This actually all got here somehow.

betting on potential

A CONVERSATION ON GENDER PARITY

n the fall, American Conservatory Theater (A.C.T.) Artistic Director Carey Perloff and Executive Director Ellen Richard sat down with SDC’s Executive Director Laura Penn to discuss gender parity in leadership positions within the nonprofit American theatre industry. Perloff and Richard have recently embarked on a research initiative geared to address suspected obstacles to women rising within the ranks of the field, such as lack of mentorship, family and childrearing issues, and currently male-dominated boards and talent search firms. The following conversation offers insight into their project and their hopes for the future generations of theatremakers. LAURA | American Conservatory Theater’s leadership has partnered with the Wellesley Centers for Women (WCW) to initiate a research study into the gender equity of leadership opportunities in the nonprofit American theatre field. Why did you decide to take the lead in this research? ELLEN | The short answer is that diversity is a huge topic for the field, and we wanted to make sure that gender was fully considered in that conversation and, more specifically, gender within leadership; so we thought, “Well, we’re leaders; let’s run with it.” LAURA | What have the preliminary questions and conversations around the subject been? CAREY | It started so interestingly with Ellen and I both looking at each other and thinking, “Well, how did we end up here in leadership positions, and where are our peers?” Then I started really thinking about where my women director colleagues from 20 years ago in New York are right now. I wondered why more of them aren’t running theatres. We’re really interested in how people get to certain leadership positions and what the structural impediments are for women. So, we started to theorize about those obstacles, and we realized that A.C.T. has this legacy of female board leadership. It had never occurred to me that this was essential to my being hired, but I don’t think it was coincidental. When Ellen was hired, the search committee chair was a woman. And we had a lot of women candidates. Now, maybe that was because I was interested in working with a woman. We were lucky. CAREY PERLOFF since 1995

Thinking about all of this, we started to speculate on what the obstacles to leadership were. We circled around four possible obstacles for women: lack of mentorship for potential leaders; the issue of child care taking working mothers off the leadership track; women not getting through the filter of the talent search firms, which are run by men; and existing theatre leaders not having a particular interest in hiring women, for whatever reason. ELLEN | Yes, looking at the current leadership at any given theatre, that artistic director or executive director will have a preference about their colleagues. Does that person want to work with a woman? CAREY | It’s a hard thing to shift because leadership—boards and staff—tends to replicate itself. LAURA | You invite your friends? CAREY | Yes, so the discrimination is not out of malice, but because we invite people we know. So that is an issue. ELLEN | There is another issue, which is how women present themselves in interviews. For instance, Carey just characterized our success at A.C.T. as “lucky.” I read something in Sheryl Sandberg’s book, which just struck me when Carey said she was lucky. When women are asked, “How did you get your job?” they say, “Well, I worked hard and I was lucky.” That’s how I characterized my trajectory for years. Sandberg says that this is what many successful women say. Men never say, “I am lucky.” They say, “I’m smart and I deserve this

INTERVIEW EDITED BY

MEGAN CARTER

WHAT IS THE WELLESLEY CENTERS FOR WOMEN? The Wellesley Centers for Women at Wellesley College is one of the largest gender-focused research-and-action organizations in the world, working for justice, peace, and well-being for women and girls, families and communities, in all their diversity at home and around the globe, with a mission to achieve this vision through research, theory, and action that puts the perspectives and concerns of women and girls at the center. Since 1974, WCW has generated changes in attitudes, practices, and public policy. WCW works toward gender equality; fairness and transparency; flexibility and work-life balance; and rigor, innovation, and effectiveness. WCW is home to more than 50 individual projects. Some are short-term, specifically focused exploratory investigations, evaluations, or trainings; others are part of larger research initiatives. The scholars at WCW focus on research, practice, and policy pertaining to women, men, children, and families. Issues of diversity and equity are central across all the work, as are the experiences and perspectives of women from a variety of backgrounds and cultures. WHO IS SUMRU ERKUT? Sumru Erkut, Ph.D., is an associate director and a senior research scientist at the Wellesley Centers for Women, where her 35-year career has focused on gender equity and racial/ ethnic diversity in leadership and development across the life course. She has a doctorate in social psychology from Harvard University. She has analyzed data from interviews with diverse women leaders, which resulted in the publication Inside Women’s Leadership. She has collaborated in a study on barriers to women and minorities’ upward mobility for the U.S. Department of Labor’s Glass Ceiling Commission, a gender equity survey at a large medical center, and a study of equitable inclusion for women and minorities in high technology sales. Her collaborative study of women on corporate boards of directors has resulted in the widespread acceptance of the finding that three or more women on a corporate board constitute a critical mass for influencing board dynamics. She is an experienced survey developer and is skilled in mixed-methods approaches to research design. WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

job,” not “I was lucky.” So, part of this issue is how women position themselves. The other thing that I read in Sheryl Sandberg’s book is that women are judged based on their track record and men are judged on their potential. That is huge. That is the most frightening thing to me, and it goes with another interesting observation, which is when men have 60% of the qualifications for a given job, they go ahead and apply, thinking, “I’m 60%; I can do the job.” And women with 60% of the qualifications don’t apply; they say, “Forty percent of that job description is out of my wheelhouse.” And that just tends to be true over and over again. We need an intervention to make women realize that, particularly for artistic directors, nobody has all the qualifications, because there’s no training for theatre leadership. So, you’re never going to have 100% of the skills, but you’re going to have 60%. Be an expert in some of the job and know how to hire people who are experts in other parts. CAREY | A big message to get out to women is that it’s absolutely worth applying for leadership positions, even if there are areas of a job that you haven’t done. I think it’s hard for women to believe that they can do that. You don’t know the number of people who say to me, “How did you ever learn to fundraise? I don’t have fundraising experience,” which is a huge issue now for artistic directors. Well, guess what? You’ve done it; it’s not rocket science. You’re passionate about what you do and you go out there and you find funding partners, because that’s what keeps your organization alive. There’s no magic secret to learn how to do it. But somehow it’s a thing women feel they can’t access. LAURA | So, based on your own experiences and some of the conversations coming out of the corporate world, you’ve begun to identify some of the obstacles for women to get to leadership positions? CAREY | Yes, but because we couldn’t ascertain the real answer to this obstacle question, we thought we should have a more rigorous study. You can’t really take action steps until you have some data and understand what the causes are. LAURA | And this need for a more rigorous, objective study led you to the Wellesley Centers for Women? Tell me how that partnership came to be. CAREY | I began researching gender-based think tanks. I started with Stanford, because I went to Stanford and the Clayman Institute at Stanford did Sheryl Sandberg’s book, but they don’t take outside projects. Then A.C.T.’s Director of Institutional Giving and Strategy, Stephanie Mazow, who’s a huge player in

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this project and is a Wellesley grad, said, “Why don’t you look at the Wellesley Centers for Women, because they are incredibly sophisticated and all their work is on gender parity issues in the work place.”

by phone, while male candidates get flown in for face-to-face interviews. It’s not enough to be on the list; you have to actually be in the room. And it just seems to be okay that women are second-class citizens in this respect.

I wrote to a number of schools and immediately got a response from Wellesley, from this remarkable woman called Sumru Erkut, who was fascinated by this proposal, because she had studied gender equity in other fields, where the trajectory of the leadership is much more clearly articulated— the process of becoming a partner at a law firm, for instance.

The second thing was the number of women who told me the first question that came up in interviews was, “How would you relocate your family?” No one asks men this question, even when they have children.

What Sumru finds particularly fascinating and challenging about theatre is that there is no clear path to leadership. There isn’t a thing that tells you the steps to take if you want to become an artistic director or an executive director. Executive directors are plucked from many different backgrounds. They can come out of development, general management, or production. Artistic direction has traditionally come out of directing, but now there are artistic directors who aren’t directors, so how does that process work? It’s all relational, which makes it really mysterious and difficult.

And the third is the number of times that women are told they don’t have the administrative experience, particularly in fundraising and board management. My hunch is that actually many of the men who are hired don’t have fundraising experience either, but we just assume that men are more comfortable in front of groups of people asking for money. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard from women, “It just wasn’t worth it, and I stopped applying.” Some case studies are really telling, and I want those to emerge in the study as well, but one of the important aspects of this study is that it will go beyond anecdotal research, which doesn’t carry much weight.

Sumru also admitted that she was shocked by the lack of gender parity in theatre, because she thought, “Well, of course, there’s a lack of parity in the tech world, for example, but in the theatre it’s all women.” People think it’s all women, because there are so many great women at the base of the pyramid. She was really surprised to discover that female leadership was so absent, and she agreed to do the study.

LAURA | The work of making theatre can be so subjective, particularly for artists, but also for managers. It’s so easy to say, “Well, you know, he’s just better,” without quantifying it. There was the study done recently on women playwrights. And it certainly pushed the conversation of gender parity in the field to another level, but there was also a fair amount of criticism about the methods of the study— that it began with biases.

LAURA | Can you talk a little about the study itself? What information are you gathering?

Is the partnership with the Wellesley Centers a guarantee of rigorous research? What other mechanisms are in place to make sure that this study can’t be compromised with—“Oh yeah, a couple of women put it together with a center for women, and, of course, it said women aren’t treated nicely?” Are you concerned about subjectivity seeping into the study?

ELLEN | There will be a lot of information gathered about women who are candidates for artistic leadership positions, analyzing their backgrounds in aggregate form. Where did they go to school, what kind of work have they done, where have they worked? The researchers will speak to search committees and various leaders that make hiring decisions. LAURA | So, based on the fact that you are focusing on real candidates for leadership, what I’m hearing is that you think this is a “hitting the glass ceiling” issue rather than a “no talent in the pipeline” problem? CAREY | Anecdotally, it seems clear that there is a rich array of female candidates out there, so it does seem to be a glass ceiling issue. In my informal dialogue with women who are leadership candidates, certain things have emerged over and over again. I’ll tell you three quick ones: First, women making the short list for artistic director jobs are being interviewed

ELLEN | We want this study to be taken seriously and not have a taint of bias. Participants in the study will only talk to these researchers at Wellesley, who can really describe the protocols for the research. Carey and I will never see the data of the surveys. We’ll only see whatever Wellesley releases. CAREY | Right, and the good news (if you could say this is good news) is unlike the question of choosing a play, which is so profoundly subjective, this is about hiring practices and opportunities, which is more quantitative. Now, obviously, the best thing that could ever happen is if we could get our hands on the data from search firms. Who was on those lists, who got an interview, who got flown in,

and who got hired. That is going to be very challenging. I don’t think those search firms will hand over that data. LAURA | So, what are the protocols, then? How do you get the data? ELLEN | It may be by writing to every general manager in the country right now and saying, “Have you ever been contacted for a managing director job?” Because right now, from the second-tier level down, approximately 50% of those jobs are held by women. So, why aren’t they rising to the executive level? Is anyone approaching these women for next-level jobs? Maybe the way that we have to approach this is to try to figure out the executive director track. What is the path to those jobs? I have to tell you, I have only been contacted by one search firm in the U.S., and I don’t think it is a coincidence that it is owned by Barbara Janowitz, the leading female executive recruiter. CAREY | That is startling, Ellen. ELLEN | Yeah, I think that’s quite real. SDC is going to be very valuable in this study, because it represents most of the working women directors and choreographers in the country. This gives us a big cross-section to sample.

That’s what happened when I was hired at A.C.T. I was really young, I was female, I didn’t look anything like what they had before, and they bet on my potential. And maybe it’s not a coincidence that the headhunter was a woman.

ELLEN | Yes, with the research, we’ll know objectively what we’re up against.

ELLEN | The other important thing about implementing something like the Rooney Rule is that it will have long-reaching implications on the practices of interviewing and hiring. For instance, even if a company doesn’t end up hiring those people, more women and people of color will get interviewed and be seen. And even if they are not hired, they might be remembered and recommended for another short list later. And that is really important for broadening the field for people of color and women.

CAREY | What has been incredible is that, having just talked about the study publicly—I talked about it in a HowlRound interview recently, and then Ellen talked about it at LORT—it hit a nerve. I’ve gotten so many emails from women, particularly young women saying, “Please do this study, please let me know how I can help, and please fill me in when you get the results.” From students, from young directors, from all kinds of people. Really, there’s obviously a great need and interest in the field and it’s funny that, before we found Wellesley, most funders (mostly men) didn’t perceive this as a pressing issue. ELLEN | What we’ve heard, unfortunately, is, “It’s so much better in theatre than in the corporate world. What is the problem?” I’ve heard that way too many times.

CAREY | Just by surveying the membership of SDC and asking specific questions like, “Have you pursued a leadership position?” or “Have you been headhunted in the past year?” we can start to drill down and find out who is actively interested in leadership, how often they’ve been contacted, by what headhunters, and what the results have been. Then what’s the yield like for the number of jobs that they’ve gone up for: how close have they gotten and who got the job. So, we will actually be able to make it quite objective and quantifiable.

CAREY | A panelist for one of the grants I wrote said, “Twenty-five percent of the leadership is female. What’s the problem? Why isn’t that enough?” It’s not enough, because this is not just about social justice or morality, or doing the right thing. It’s actually about how we make the industry a better, more enduring, more inclusive, and more flexible field. By not being inclusive, we’re losing extraordinary talent. There have been these conversations about why there are no women on the Twitter board. The leadership of Twitter said, “We couldn’t find any women.”

LAURA | Do you have other partners besides Wellesley and SDC? And are there other partners that you will invite into this process along the way?

The reason you can’t find women is because they don’t look like the people sitting on the board now, or the leadership now. So, if you want someone who represents what you have now, it’s not going to be a woman or person of color. It just takes a little more muscle to diversify your leadership. This is why Ellen and I have talked about the concept of the Rooney Rule, which requires the NFL to interview minority candidates for leadership positions. Maybe the theatre needs its own Rooney Rule applied in every leadership search—you must have a candidate of color, you must have a female candidate. It’s not that hard if you really look. But you have to think a little more creatively. And you have to take a little greater “risk.”

CAREY | Yes. When we started thinking about the study, the first person I called was Martha Lavey at Steppenwolf, and she and I had a long talk about this leadership issue—she is really interested in supporting the study and partnering in some way. We also want to partner with Mills College, which is a significant women’s college here in the Bay Area, run right now by an African American woman named Alecia A. DeCoudreaux, who is interested in doing a convening event at the end of the study. After we have the data, we’ll gather the interested groups of funders and leaders from around the country and then create a set of action steps that the field can take. Then we’ll share those action steps with TCG and LORT.

HowlRound is really committed to publishing the study, to keeping it alive, and to being a part of the convening. So, we’ll have that really strong and central voice—HowlRound is very good at this kind of dialogue. People want to set up the action steps now, but first we have to do the study and find out what the obstacles are.

Search firms have to say to boards of directors, “I know this person doesn’t look like what you imagined, but you should bet on her potential.”

CAREY | It didn’t occur to me at the time that it was actually an issue. But in retrospect, it was.

LAURA | But we’ve all been doing this for a while. In the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, there was the non-traditional casting project. There was a big push toward multiculturalism and then everything kind of went quiet, although there were definitely some advances made at that time. But here we are. We’ve passed the workforce 2000 mark; we’re all keenly aware of shifting demographics; right now there are no fewer than a half-dozen diversity or equity conversations happening. The Broadway League is hosting a two-day diversity summit; there’s TCG’s Diversity and Inclusion Initiative; LORT has its committee; SDC is starting a task force. There are a lot of conversations around equity and hiring, who’s getting the jobs, who’s leading our industry. How do you imagine your study complementing or supporting other initiatives? ELLEN | Well, part of what we’re doing is making sure gender isn’t left out of this discussion. And then we are looking at race within our study; in LORT there is only one woman of color. Also of note there is only one lesbian running a theatre. CAREY | It’s important to discuss the fact that women are not a minority. Women are actually the majority. And given the fact that we are in an industry where over 65% of the tickets are bought by women, it’s not just egregious that there are so few women in positions of leadership. LAURA | Obviously, there is more work to be done and this is why you are launching this study, but what positive changes, if any, are you already seeing that you think will impact gender parity in leadership? And how do you think the study will capitalize on those changes and expand the conversation?

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CAREY | The director situation is beginning to change, and there are so many terrific women directors working now. It’s been slow coming, which partly has to do with how our culture views authority—and directors must hold authority—as a male domain. You also see this in the field of music, where women conductors are scarce. Musicians often don’t believe that a woman actually has the moxie and artistry it takes to hold an orchestra together. And because that is the cultural norm and authority is vested in men, it becomes hard for women to believe in their own authority, that they have what it takes. Women’s leadership styles may be different, but they need to believe that they have what it takes to command authority. And this is something really important and complicated to discuss about gender parity: that there are external obstacles, but there are also these internal obstacles—believing one has the capacity to lead—created by these cultural norms. Putting women in leadership roles creates more female leadership models, which begets more women leaders. The reason that I felt I could be an artistic director is that I grew up in Washington, D.C. and the first artistic director I encountered was Zelda Fichandler. I thought all artistic leaders were like Zelda. (I was so disillusioned when I realized she was not representative of the field.) But she’s the first woman and the first artistic director I heard speak. And I thought she was amazing. Those things stay with you. So, role models are everything. And if you don’t see them on a regular basis, why would you imagine that you could do that job? And some of it is very internal for women. I think women secondguess themselves, they don’t believe they have it in them. They haven’t seen someone like them doing it, so they think they’re not part of the larger conversation. This study is about widening the conversation, which will have enormous implications for the field. We need some very rigorous board education. And putting a serious study in front of a board will have an impact. Not just ad hoc studies, but actually showing boards of directors what the reality is and exposing them to the challenges of the field, which I think they might ultimately be incredibly excited about.

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o complement our conversation with Carey Perloff and Ellen Richard, we talked with 10 women directors and choreographers who are at different points in their careers—some working regionally, others in New York City; some working as freelance artists, others as directors within institutions—about the gender gap in theatre leadership. We asked them to discuss their individual challenges and successes, as well as their perceptions about the causes of the persistent lack of gender parity in theatre (the number of productions helmed by women hovers at 20%). Their responses are as varied as their work, but we also discovered compelling commonalities in their experiences. Here are some highlights. EMILY MANN

A.D. | McCarter Theatre Princeton, NJ I have faced challenges in directing, because I am a woman. There were the days when you could be told to your face that a woman should not direct a particular play at a particular venue, and it was much more difficult to get work then. I was often the first woman to direct on any mainstage I worked on in the 1970s and 1980s. By 1990, I decided that I needed to run my own theatre in order to consistently do the work I wanted to do. That, in a nutshell, is how I advanced my own work. It matters a great deal that there is still a gender imbalance, but let me say that 20% is better than it was. When I started, it was in the single digits for women directors in the major houses and on Broadway. The reasons for it are at once complex and simple. The talent is there and the pool is growing. Women should be hired! Why aren’t they? Some of it is truly unconscious. Many artistic directors and producers reflexively think of the usual suspects. And they are usually male. Some artistic directors don’t notice that they have a bias and don’t really go to see the work of women directors or take their pitches particularly seriously. They fear that women won’t deliver. They fear women can’t handle the pressure. They fear…and so on. Sometimes, they just have to experience the successes. Tim Sanford (Playwrights Horizons) made a concerted effort to hire women and his theatre has made a meteoric rise, because of the women writers and directors he’s hired. Instead of pleading for equity and parity, we have to show that this is a path to success. I am optimistic for the first time that we will see change from this generation. There are excellent women directors in good numbers out there now, and they are beginning to take their places Off-Broadway and in the regions. There are even some women on Broadway from this younger generation. It was exciting to see the number of us on stage at the Tonys this year. Martha Lavey and myself were two winning artistic directors, and Pam MacKinnon and Diane Paulus won as directors. Hopefully, that female visibility will begin to equate with success.

SUSAN BOOTH

A.D. | Alliance Theatre Atlanta, GA This question of gender challenges in the theatre always stymies me, because I only know what the work experience is as myself. But I suppose there’s a feminine work ethic, which is innately collaborative and inclusive, and in that sense, my gender is of great service in the work of making a play or leading an organization, as both require a facility for bringing divergent views and styles together around common goals. So, I see my gender as an asset, not a challenge, and I think women could more highly value the communicative and collaborative skills that we bring to the table and recognize our own capacity to lead and succeed. It matters that there is a substantial gender imbalance in theatre. Who sets the table is the primary determinant of who gets to sit at the table. The “why” of that persistent 20% imbalance is an intriguing problem. Before I became a mother, I was avidly pushing my career forward by lobbying for work at theatres both near and far from my home. But then my daughter came along. And the first time I missed a milestone, I changed my ambitions. I was deeply fortunate in that, by the time my ambitions changed, I had a home-base theatre, where I could do my work. But it certainly altered my trajectory as an individual artist. And I know I’m not alone in making those kinds of choices, and those choices have an incontrovertible impact on careers. But I also think that boards of directors (who typically populate leadership search committees) still have some vestigial notions of what power and authority look like; and therefore, female candidates and, sadly, candidates of color, often have to prove more than their worth— they have to disprove antiquated notions as well. “Talent must out”—the best writer, the best director, the best designer—that’s who ought to get hired. But how are we determining what constitutes “best?” And how wide are we casting our nets in pursuit of the best? And most critically, what are we all doing to mentor and provide access to our younger female peers? If, as an artistic director, you’re programming a season that speaks to the

SUSAN BOOTH since 1998 | ZELDA FICHANDLER since 1987 | PAM MACKINNON since 2001 | EMILY MANN since 1980 | DIANE PAULUS since 2001

fullness of your community—and you are then identifying the artists whose aesthetic and skills best align with that season of work—your roster of artists will look like your city. One example of the way we achieve this at the Alliance (and we’re really proud of this) is we have a blind submission policy for a program called the National Graduate Playwriting Program, a one-of-a-kind national competition that transitions grad student playwrights to the world of professional theatre. The winning play has its premiere in our season each year. We look for the best work, and there’s no bio, no picture, no cover page. And the authors have been 90% female and/or people of color. Cool, right?

MAY ADRALES

Freelance Dir. | NYC I teach a class that gives emerging directors an introduction to the professional field, and recently I asked the students to define what success would mean for them. One man said he wanted to direct a long-running, hit show on Broadway; the sole woman in the class said she would be happy just to have the opportunity to continue to practice her art. I immediately identified with what she said. I’ve often said that myself—that I’m grateful, not entitled, to direct. Why did I not have greater ambitions for myself? Was it because I, like her, want a family? And that, somehow, “big” commercial success excludes women who prioritize family? Or was it because I couldn’t imagine that I, as a woman, could achieve that kind of commercial success? Being a theatre director, no matter what the gender, is difficult. The field is competitive and the work environment is stressful, and it’s difficult to do your best work under the socioeconomic circumstances of our industry. I have pushed my career forward in the same way my male counterparts have— by widening my circle of collaborators and expanding the kinds of work I do. I reflect often on the glass ceilings that I impose on myself and how I might overcome them. It’s true that I am an “atypical” leader and director—I’m 5’1”, an Asian-American from rural Virginia, who likes wearing heels and skirts, and has a highly intuitive, communal way of leading. I don’t fit the stereotype of a typical leader, which, as explained by Sheryl Sandberg, is someone whom both men and women describe as direct, even blunt; decisive, even unyielding; and masculine. But perhaps the only way to counteract this glass ceiling is to embrace the shift in female leadership in politics, business, and the arts. I look to the amazing, strong women who have broken through: Emily Mann, Diane Paulus, Anna Shapiro, and Carey Perloff. I do believe the tides are changing. When I was still working as an assistant, I did not assist a single woman. Conversely, my current assistant has never

assisted a man. There are certainly more women working than before. It’s only a matter of time. I also feel strongly that, for the tides to change, there have to be more female critics and critics of color in the industry. Out of the 16 critics who reviewed my show at LCT3, there was only ONE woman. Whether we should or not, we consistently judge the success of plays and productions based on critical reviews. How can we validate that success if only men are reviewing all the plays? And, likely, white men? And while American theatre has evolved in many ways, real criticism—thoughtful, provoking, insightful criticism—has diminished. How can we grow as an art form and as an industry if we are not nurturing a multiplicity of viewpoints and thoughtful dialogue about the work?

ADRIANA BAER

A.D. | Profile Theatre Portland, OR Early in my career, I faced a number of issues directing older men, who were uncomfortable taking direction from a younger woman. I hyper-consciously worked to prove my worth in the room, because I felt I was being challenged to prove that I knew what I was talking about. Sometimes it was subtle—something just felt “off”—but then I would realize that my authority with the piece was being questioned. This was especially true when the play had a male protagonist and was written by a male playwright (which, of course, means most of the plays being produced). Meanwhile, I saw male directors my age sailing through rehearsals and interviews—we were all finding our way, but I had an extra door to get through. My gender (and age) almost always comes up as part of the conversation about where I am in my career. It’s not worth mentioning gender when a man advances, because that’s the norm. Honestly, my being a woman is one of the least interesting things about my work as a director and artistic director. But I’d like women to stop behaving as if our gender isn’t an issue and that we don’t have a problem in our industry. I wish the women who worked through the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s in leadership positions would talk more frequently about how hard it was and why. When I was just starting out, I was very interested in this issue because I simply didn’t (and rarely do now) see women leading arts organizations. One woman executive leader I asked about this told me to “drop it.” She said that she had fought to get where she was by putting her head down and working. The message my generation received—and what I see us now trying to work through—was that the previous generations got to the top by “acting like men.”

MAY ADRALES since 2010 | ADRIANA BAER Accs. since 2011 | LESLIE ISHII since 2013 | ANNA SHAPIRO since 2001

Theatre is, by nature, social and political. We have a responsibility to put forth big questions for discussion and examination. When we don’t represent the full spectrum of the population, we are not telling our community’s full story or reflecting the makeup of our audiences. And theatre is not exempt from the national conversation about gender equity. Title IX was only put in place in 1972. The Fair Pay Restoration Act was rewritten just four years ago. We have a lot of work to do. Lack of support for mothers and a lack of child care is a huge factor in artistic leadership. There’s a very specific time when one can move from “early career” to “mid-career” and thereby move up in leadership positions. That coincides with the age when many women bear children. Without an improvement to the way our country deals with child care and health care, we’re really going to continue to struggle here. We need to think conscientiously and talk openly about our hiring practices and the barriers to hiring more women. We all know that work begets work, so we have to figure out ways to give women artists slots in our seasons so other theatres see them, hire them, and the cycle continues to improve. At Profile, we have a unique mission in that we focus on a single writer per season. If I program a male playwright, I am limited on how much I can do about the gender gap when it comes to playwrights and actors. However, I actively try to balance my numbers by hiring women to direct and by seeking plays by women writers for our supplemental programming slots. I also look for women designers and try to actively engage in a dialogue with my audience about gender in post-show discussions.

LESLIE ISHII

Freelance Dir./Educator/Actor LA, CA When I address the challenges that I have experienced, I have to speak from the perspective of being an Asian-American female artist. Being the only Asian in a room automatically makes a political statement, especially if I enter as my full, empowered self. I am learning to leverage this in order to challenge the room and support my collaborators in thinking beyond their biases. After years of being an actor, I entered directing to find more fulfillment at the front end of the creative process. Coming out from under non-Asian people’s ideas of who I am—“exotic” or “subservient”—is challenging as I build my directing career. But moving from acting to directing was really a natural evolution for me and is connected to my family legacy in activism and community building; and it evolved from teaching music and, eventually, theatre. I was the only Asian heritage person in my training class at the American Conservatory WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Theatre (A.C.T.) and I thought, “If this is the rate our community is able to get trained at a major institution, I better share the techniques of the craft.” So, on weekends during my graduate work, I went to the Asian American Theater Company (San Francisco) and taught what I had learned that week. Then, when I landed in Los Angeles after some Broadway experience in NYC, I went to meet Nobu McCarthy, who was Artistic Director of East West Players Asian American Theatre (EWP) at the time. When she learned I had graduated from A.C.T., she said, “You will teach.” At EWP, Tim Dang and Marilyn Tokuda supported my teaching curriculum to include directing studio lab projects, which led to directing educational tour shows, and then onto the mainstage. I have begun raising my profile as a director and moving out of working exclusively in the Asian-American community. I realized I build community wherever I go, so why not build in new places and where Asians should be more visible? I applied and was accepted to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s FAIR Program. Bill Rauch, Christopher Liam Moore, and Sharifa Johka, the FAIR Program Manager, have been tremendous allies in supporting my development. I am also taking leadership around diversity and inclusion at national and local levels. My leadership in this area is growing, and I am realizing that until I decided to become visible as an Asian heritage artist, my visibility as a female artist was also stymied. Since working with TCG on their Diversity and Inclusion Initiative, I am certain that their decision to address race first was the right thing to do. On a personal level, it gave me visibility to do this work. Now I can be a visible force behind women’s issues in more effective ways. Building inclusion around race first means building inclusion around every issue. This increases our chances of no one going invisible because of any “ism.”

MEREDITH MCDONOUGH

Assc. A.D. | Actors Theatre of Louisville | Louisville, KY As a female director, both in a leadership position at ATL and as a freelancer, I think a lot about the leadership dilemma with women in the theatre. Is it because we have less representation in leadership roles and, therefore fewer models, that we don’t as easily follow that career path? I’m not sure. I’ve always wanted to run a theatre, and find that more than anything, I owe my career to deep and ongoing mentorship—mentorship that came to me in my early career from Jon Jory and later in my career from Les Waters. Both of these men were and are passionate about regional theatre and being community leaders, a quality that they saw and nurtured in me over

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many years. And now, happily, here I am, back at the theatre where I met both of them. I find it problematic how little long-term mentorship I see in the industry in general, but with fewer women in leadership roles, does that equal even fewer mentorship opportunities for upand-coming women artists? I can say that my early freelance career was very much supported by women. Anne Marie Cammarato hired me consistently to direct at Delaware Theatre Company when I first got out of graduate school, and that faith in me from a big LORT theatre made other artistic directors feel safe taking a “risk” on me. I also gained real peer-to-peer support in those years from the Women’s Project in NYC and Loretta Greco and Julie Crosby’s desire to support and launch women into the field. As I’ve continued to advance in my career, I’ve been so pleased to see how other women from that peer group and I have continued to look for opportunities and support each other—this has been a crucial network for me on this climb. As we continue to rise into artistic leadership roles, we will continue to hire each other, which will finally begin to shift the gender gap.

NANCY KEYSTONE

Dir./Chor./Founder | Critical Mass Performance Group LA, CA As a woman, I’ve never had an overtly discriminatory experience, nor heard anything that would lead me to believe that being a woman was a liability in any particular case. However, that does not mean that my gender has not been an obstacle—only that I’m not specifically aware of it. I did have one strange experience in which I was hired because I was a woman; the producer told me, in our first conversation, that they were looking for a Woman Director. I found that mildly amusing, and hoped that they were at least as interested in hiring a Good Director. Being a theatremaker, period, is innately challenging on all fronts. Challenges of making the work aside, there are so few paying jobs and funding opportunities available, and there is a large and growing pool of people who want the jobs and money. Success in attaining those positions and opportunities depends absolutely on who you know. Many of my most important theatre influences have been women who do less conventional work, many of whom lead their own companies (Wooster Group’s Elizabeth LeCompte, playwright Suzan-Lori Parks, Ariane Mnouchkine in France, Pina Bausch in Germany). I also work as a freelance director/ designer at regional theatres. Early in my career, I placed much more emphasis on the regional theatre route, and I knocked on a lot of different doors with little to show for it (not atypical for most early career artists). At

each point of frustration, I made a conscious decision to “choose myself,” meaning that I simply made my own opportunity and did my own work. After many years of doing that over and over, that’s primarily what my career has become—making work with my own ensemble, which is really what I wanted—and now, whatever small modicum of “success” I’ve had has been the result of this activity. My recommendation to anyone who faces frustrations with “getting in the door” is to build your own house, choose yourself, do your own work. It’s important for women, but not just women, to create new structures for making theatre in order to achieve parity. Ambition is important, a fire in the belly. Mentorships can be powerful for established women to take on younger mentees, as well as for younger artists and administrators to seek out mentors. Women also can be at the forefront of creating opportunities for and helping to promote each other. In Los Angeles, writer Jennie Webb started LA Female Playwrights Initiative, which, in a short time, has created an active and vital platform for raising the visibility of women in theatre to ensure more balance. The gender imbalance in theatre matters. It also matters that there is an imbalance in most every other category, both on stage and off (for people of color, low-income people, young people, old people, non-traditional forms, international perspectives, etc.). Speaking in general terms, mainstream theatre, despite the preponderance of right-minded liberals among the ranks, is actually surprisingly conservative, risk-averse, and quite behind the curve in moving into the 21st century. The theatre is doing a terrible job of making a case for its relevance and value across a broad spectrum of society. Perhaps there is a connection between the inclusion of more voices, and increased relevance and vitality? No single theatre can be all things to all people, but all theatres can benefit from a shift in consciousness.

LEAH GARDINER

Freelance Dir. | NYC As a director, I have experienced a number of challenges that I imagine my male counterparts have not. Often on the first day of rehearsal I inevitably hear at least one actor announce that they have “never been directed by a woman before.” Further, as a mother and working director, I had to breastfeed my son while navigating rehearsal and performance schedules. I count myself lucky to have had some supportive and understanding collaborators during that time. I have worked hard to remain true to myself and stay focused on what matters most to me as an artist and as a woman (in that order). I

work diligently to treat others with care and respect. When a door opens for me, I use it as an opportunity to demonstrate that women are a healthy choice to hire; I empower others to reach beyond assumed expectations. When I direct, I love to work with assistants—often young women—helping the next generation navigate their careers to another level. In my opinion, the American theatre is no different from any other important industry, so the fact that women lag behind in positions of power is no surprise. As individuals, how do we change these numbers? We remind ourselves it’s about tackling obstacles with hard work, humor, and a commitment to make the best art possible. If I face a difficult obstacle, I call upon my mentor to share thoughts on my vision, so I can then take my ideas to the next level. I have developed the confidence and courage to own a creative vision and see it through to completion. Other women in the theatre can recognize the creative potential that is unleashed when they take control of their own ideas. Further, seeking help from others permits us to make bold choices. I was recently at dinner with Alliance Theatre’s Artistic Director, Susan Booth, who asked me where I saw my career headed. I hadn’t taken time to ask myself that question in a while. When I actually articulated my goals, I felt liberated. As a freelance director, you often live in a bubble. Being reminded that I can do anything was incredibly helpful. It took another woman in a position of power to encourage me to empower myself. As a director who is very interested in leading an organization, I believe the greatest obstacle facing freelancers is obtaining the knowledge to “break into the club.” We all need to do a better job of promoting ourselves. Men are taught to mention their talents first. Women tend to lead with why we are not qualified. I have been at this for 17 years and am finally beginning to learn the language it takes to promote myself, a skill that is necessary to my mission of building a community that is reflective of the changing nature of our great country.

KAREN AZENBERG

A.D. | Pioneer Theatre Co. Salt Lake City, UT I don’t think of the challenges I’ve faced as a theatre director from the perspective of being a woman; although, I would imagine if you look at things from the outside you could probably draw conclusions about challenges that women face. I’ve just never thought of it that way. But there have been several places, particularly earlier in my career, where I have been the first woman to direct something at a particular institution. And that’s bizarre, because I’m not that old. But I do think that people tend to hire their contemporaries,

their circle of acquaintances. We all want to work with people who fit comfortably with our style, and that’s most easily accomplished with people who are like you. This tendency can lead to more men getting jobs than women, but I can’t point to a job I didn’t get and say it was because I’m a woman. That being said, women can advance themselves by supporting other women. Women should be the first ones in line to give opportunities to other women—whether it’s giving them jobs or mentoring them. If our opportunities for women to direct and choreograph on major stages do not increase, then the opportunities for them to have leadership positions are not going to increase. You have to have a certain kind of perseverance in this business. Maybe there are more women working in the small theatres and they start disappearing as they go up the ladder. Some people will write this off as women having children and getting out of the field, but I don’t believe that’s true. I do think when you have children, there is the question of economics. That workshop that pays $12 but may lead to a really big opportunity isn’t feasible after you have kids, because you have to pay the sitter more than you’re getting paid for the workshop. So, now you’re getting removed from a pipeline that leads to more workshops, to the Broadway show, to the bigger project. This is true for other fields, too, but in theatre we all seem to accept that you have to do so much work for below minimum wage. Like anything else that needs to change— whether it’s recycling or eating healthy—it’s a mindset; you have to make a decision that you’re going to change things. The theatrical community needs to make a bigger effort to connect early and mid-career directors with artistic leaders, so that they and their work are considered, because so much about this business is who you know and chemistry. As an artistic leader, I see how very easy it is to get comfortable with a certain circle of artists and, as you staff your season, you want to hire those people who already have chemistry. We have to decide to meet new people and to experience new artists. The issue is not a lack of diverse talent, but current artistic leadership (or perhaps outside forces like funders) must make a concerted effort to diversify the field.

MAIJA GARCIA

Chor./ Dir./Founder | Organic Magnetics | NYC I am a director and choreographer who is relentless and unapologetic. While these qualities are encouraged in men, I’ve been told more than once that I’m “intimidating.” Slipping invisibly between theatre and dance, my work is considered “difficult” because it deals with race and

cultural conflict, while evoking the ineffable qualities of the human experience. I cannot say it’s because of gender that my work is not getting funded, commissioned, or presented. But it’s a hard fact to ignore that male directors and choreographers are awarded significantly more opportunities in the field. While broad generalizations are dangerous, I’d venture to say that women tend to value process over product, considering the well-being of the whole, while our male-dominated industry empowers privilege and prestige, bowing to the biggest ego in the room. I am committed to making great work while listening to multiple voices. Listening—to draw a diverse and interactive audience. Listening— to create the conditions for cross cultural and interdisciplinary collaboration. Beyond listening to alternative views and voices, I would encourage fearless female leaders to shape the process, as well as the product, until the qualifiers of our theatre industry catch up with us. It’s difficult to ascertain why such disparity exists for women directors and choreographers, as there is no lack of female genius in the industry. I would imagine this inequity reflects a deficiency of credit where credit is due rather than a lack of women leaders. Significant imprints made by women across the board are credited only in fine print. Preference leans toward celebrity and influence in power positions, so it’s important to question the hierarchy that determines who is invested with authority. Many innovative directors and choreographers are more than qualified to take the reins. We are out in the field devising new work, even self-producing, but we do not have a seat at the table of major players. Let’s look through the lens of a producer whose imperative is selling tickets: “Call the guy who won a Tony award for such and such or the one who championed that last blockbuster musical!” And so we see the same names recycled each year on playbills. We do need women at the table, making decisions. We also need more people of color at the table to provoke a change in the status quo. We need to challenge our agents, general managers, publicists, and producers to expand their scope. Most important, we must empower ourselves as media makers; to create a buzz around those innovative leaders, both men and women, who are pushing the envelope and TAKING RISKS. KAREN AZENBERG since 1989 TIM DANG since 2010 MAIJA GARCIA since 2010 LEAH GARDINER since 2000 LORETTA GRECO since 1994 JON JORY since 1972 NANCY KEYSTONE since 2000 MEREDITH MCDONOUGH since 2007 CHRISTOPHER LIAM MOORE since 2008 BILL RAUCH since 1999 LES WATERS since 1987 WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Chad Batka PHOTO

SERGIO TRUJILLO FITTING IT ONTO THE BODY INTERVIEW BY LIZA

GENNARO

ttending last season’s Hands on a Hardbody at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre, I was intrigued by the unique staging and choreographic challenges of a show that, for extended periods of time, required its characters to maintain one hand on the body of a Nissan truck. At the first moments of choreographed movement I uttered an audible “ah” as the clear simplicity and diegetic quality of the dancing took my breath away. Throughout the performance I was continually surprised and entertained by choreographer Sergio Trujillo’s inventive solutions to perplexing staging questions. I recently had the happy occasion to speak to Sergio about his choreographic processes and projects, the current state of Broadway choreography, and the new generation of Broadway choreographers who are enlivening the form. 34

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LG | I loved your work in Hands on a Hardbody and thought it would be great to talk to you about the challenges of choreographing a show in which the actors, much of the time, maintain one hand on the body of a Nissan truck. What was it about Hands on a Hardbody that interested you? ST | I was asked by Christopher Ashley, who’s a friend and collaborator of mine, to come look at the show when it was in La Jolla. I’ve always wanted to work with Douglas Wright, Amanda Green, Trey Anastasio, and Neil Pepe, who is the Artistic Director over at Atlantic Theater Company, and a proper actor’s director. I found the team incredibly attractive. I wasn’t sure about taking on the challenge of how to create an evening around people with their hands on the truck the entire time. That sort of frightened me, and I wasn’t sure that I was ready to dive into that. But I met with the team during the summer of 2012 and we talked about it at length and agreed to allow me to work on the piece for two weeks in October of 2012 because I needed to find out if I could actually deliver. And so I worked in a studio with a group of dancers with a wooden truck and I began to discover the way into the piece through movement. I just saw the light and I thought, wow, this is a really good challenge for me. Because, you know, the obvious in choreography can be easy; the unknown can be challenging and to some degree liberating.

LG | So the confines and limits actually spurred your creativity? ST | It did. The minute that I got in the studio and actually started to physicalize it, I found this sort of freedom in the obstacle, and then I just became fearless. Suddenly it’s “why not this?” and “why not that?” And because it’s an original musical, the sky was the limit. LG | Can you describe the first moments when you saw that there was a world of dance vocabulary there? ST | I think it was that first song I worked on, “I’m Gone,” in which two of the younger characters sing about their dreams and aspirations. One of them wants to be a stuntman and go to Los Angeles and the other, a girl, wants to travel. So I thought: if these kids were to go on a road trip across America—what would their experience be like and how can I transport the audience on that journey with them? So the truck became a metaphor for different things; they’re sitting on a high mountain overlooking the sunset, so it became a mountain; they’re on the West Coast surfing, so it became a surfboard; it became a playground, it became a valley, it became a road. And the music is beautiful and the narrative and the lyrics were so easy for me to hang on to and as I was creating it, anything became possible. That was the first time anybody takes their hand off the truck and it

CHRISTOPHER ASHLEY since 1988 | LIZA GENNARO since 1991 | NEIL PEPE since 2000 SERGIO TRUJILLO since 2004 | DOUGLAS WRIGHT since 2001

was a collaboration between the lighting and the staging and the acting all coming together. These two characters were holding their hands on the truck, perfectly placed, they’re talking and they’re singing the song and all of a sudden on the perfect musical cue, the truck floated away and their hands stayed in the air in the same position they had been on the truck and all of a sudden the audience knows that we’re in their heads. That was the first time where I thought, okay, I got it. I figured that part out. This one is about going into their heads and their imagination and them sharing their dreams and aspirations. That was how I broke into that first “How to go anywhere with people keeping their hands on the truck.” We took the dramatic license by going into their heads.

a G.I. soldier who returns from Iraq, and in the song the other contestants became his society, they became mothers, they became fathers, they became soldiers. That’s how I approached that particular number. In terms of when they release their hands off the truck, every single person had to take their hands off the truck at the exact same time and in the exact same way so that the audience didn’t get confused. Just think of A Chorus Line. The minute they step away from that line, everything shifts. When they step away from the line, the rest all back up—boom—at the same time, the light shifts and you know that you’re not on the line anymore. That was an interesting source of inspiration.

LG | Yes, as an audience member, it was very satisfying; it wasn’t jarring. It made sense.

LG | Yes, the backup singer trope was clear and I was fascinated by how you distorted it. You’re incredibly musical and I felt that the process of movement distortion and the fusion of styles was a great example of dance enriching a dramatic moment. Now let me ask about your collaboration with Neil Pepe. How did that collaboration work?

ST | The second instance of them taking their hands off the truck was in the song “Stronger.” I once again used the truck as a metaphor for other things, but more importantly, I used the other contestants as different aspects of the character’s story. He was

“

I wasn’t sure about taking on the challenge of how to create an evening around people with their hands on the truck the entire time. That sort of frightened me... And so I worked in a studio with a group of dancers with a wooden truck and I began to discover the way into the piece through movement...I thought, wow, this is a really good challenge for me...the obvious in choreography can be easy; the unknown can be challenging and to some degree liberating.”

on the truck. The musical influences in it are very contemporary, and the sound of this song is rhythm and blues-inspired. I wanted to create a modern backup doo-wop trio that would frame a James Brown sort of character. Each one of the women would do the same step with their own little touch that was based on their character. I wanted to make sure that it felt as though the movement was happening spontaneously, and that it never felt as though we were watching a perfectly synchronized backup group. It was important that we stayed connected to the characters. That’s the charm of finding actresses like these ladies, because they were very different, great movers with a great sense of rhythm, and extremely funky. They also were very good at picking up the style of movement I was after. It was a modern-day Supremes-meetsthe-Temptations-meets-Destiny’s Child.

ST | This was Neil’s first musical and he was extremely open to allowing me to help in other areas and he was incredibly responsive, and as a matter of fact, we’re going to work on another piece. I’m going to co-direct with him. Watching a director like Neil work with the actors was truly valuable. I hadn’t seen any other directors connect, communicate, and get work out of actors the way that Neil can. It’s remarkable. I found it enriching and inspiring. Neil was really a great collaborator.

LG | And there were moments where the truck sort of became a framing device and there was one moment when three of the women started doing a stepping phrase while holding the truck. Can you describe how you were working there? ST | Yes, the number in the show where this happened was “My Problem Right There.” This is the third song in the piece where three of the female characters are backing up Ronald, who happens to be the most soulful character

MICHAEL BENNETT d.1987 | BOB FOSSE d.1987 | JEROME ROBBINS d.1998

LG | I’m curious about your influences. You mention A Chorus Line and, of course, Michael Bennett, and I know you were in Jerome Robbins’ Broadway. Did dancing Robbins’s choreography inform the way you work? ST | I didn’t grow up in a family that took me to the theatre. I was born in Colombia; then my family moved to Canada and I didn’t really find theatre until I was 18 or 19. So I didn’t know Jerome Robbins, I didn’t know Fosse, I didn’t know Michael Bennett—I didn’t know any of them. Having worked on both Fosse and Jerome Robbins’ Broadway, I became a quick study, learning from watching the storytelling aspects of each one of Jerome Robbins’s ballets West Side Story and The King and I. I was

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learning it as I was doing it, by watching and by doing. Robbins created character-specific movement. When you look at On the Town, you look at The King and I, you look at High Button Shoes, you look at Fiddler on the Roof, West Side Story, Gypsy, and you just think, “Oh my God; this guy was a chameleon.” I so admire that and I try to do that with my work. I’ve pushed myself to create vocabulary and narrative that is specific to each show and that’s where I drive myself insane each time. I begin to work by finding the language and vocabulary for each piece. I don’t have a signature style because I try with each show to find how the characters move. How do they react? How do they feel the music? How do they express themselves with this particular sound? How do those characters express themselves through movement for that particular show? LG | And do you find that process different when you’re working with a non-dancer or a dancer? ST | Yes, of course. In Hands on a Hardbody, they were all actors; each single person in that show was an actor and you have to come up with a different set of tools, a different way of communicating with actors than you do with dancers, even the way that you run your rehearsal. One of the best examples for me was John Lloyd Young, who played Frankie Valli in Jersey Boys and won the Tony Award. When we were down to the wire—the final, final, final callback for Jersey Boys—there was one guy they wanted me to see, and they said to me, “This is the last guy. This is it. I don’t know that we’re gonna find any better.” And I said, “Well, let me go and dance with him.” So I went in a room and worked with John for about 10 minutes, and then I said I needed to work with him exclusively for at least two months before we started rehearsals. And it’s amazing because, you know, I became not only his choreographer but his coach. John and I built a movement vocabulary that was specific for John. You have to approach it from an acting point of view and not from a movement point of view. I start with simple walking. If I start to do movement and they start to get all freaked out, I’m like “Gosh, it’s just like walking. It’s just a fancier way of walking.” I just got back from working on the Jersey Boys film and, lucky for both John Lloyd and for myself, we were both working on it. John plays Frankie and I choreographed it. To see the growth that he’s made in the last six years and to know that I’m a part of this actor who can move really well and understand his body…he’s a prime example of how I work with actors and how I can get them to understand movement. With dancers it’s different. Dancers require structure, they require discipline. I’m definitely tougher with dancers than I am with actors. LG | And how do you come up with movement differently with dancers?

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ST | Oh, with dancers, the sky’s the limit for me; I just create. When I’m ready to go into a show that’s mostly dance, I spend about four weeks doing prep and coming up with vocabulary that works for the show but also feels right for the music. I don’t like to go into a studio by myself. I usually have two bodies with me to dance and begin to create the structure of repertory moves for the show. When I walk into rehearsal, I have a set of tools that I can grab from. So when I’m choreographing in the room, when I’m setting the plan, that plan begins to take its own shape and form with the individual dancing bodies in the room. That sketch that I came up with in pre-production is up for reevaluation once I have the bodies in the room. LG | Do you collaborate with the dancers as you do with the actors, or do you like the dancers to be more of a kind of clean slate for you?

“

The thing about me is I have to dance...I have to feel it, I have to be able to create it on me first because I need to know how the music feels. I want to create a choreography vocabulary that feels good when they’re performing it. There’s nothing I would hate more when I was dancing than if something felt really awkward.”

ST | I come in with it all ready to go, everything’s choreographed with the dancers… we’ll communicate with the dancers, but it’s not a democracy. [laughs] But, for instance, if we’re doing battiments, or extension on one side, or pirouette on one side, sometimes it may not specifically look great on them. I may make a certain step or certain phrase that looks good on me but it may not necessarily look good on them so I begin to change it. It’s like a costume designer: you take patterns and you take the sketch and you try it on and then you begin to fit it onto the body. LG | Right. ST | And the thing about me is I have to dance; I have to dance it, I have to feel it, I have to be able to create it on me first because I need to know how the music feels. I want to create

a choreography vocabulary that feels good when they’re performing it. There’s nothing I would hate more when I was dancing than if something felt really awkward. So I try to really make sure that it feels good. For me, when I’m watching movement on stage, I prefer to see it coming from the individuals rather than seeing something that looks forced. LG | One of the things that I love so much about your choreography are your transitions. Like what you did in Memphis. I just think you’re fantastic at using dance as a transitional device. ST | It’s something that I love to do, something that I really hang on to, having done so many shows with Des McAnuff. I just find that I make it part of my job as a choreographer in a show. I think that in terms of theatremaking, in terms of forward movement and the evolution of theatre and dance, theatre has to feel cinematic. I mean, film is film and theatre is theatre, but there is a way in which we can continue to keep the audience captivated and interested and keep the narrative going, so that when a song finishes or when a scene finishes, there is the glue. The cohesiveness of a piece is important to me and I think that’s where the transitions really pay off. LG | Yes, absolutely, when they’re so beautifully integrated. You find great, wonderful, rich movement to make them happen. ST | Thank you, thanks. LG | What do you do before you even get into the studio with the dancers? Do you do any kind of research? ST | Yes, l love to do research; it’s one of my favorite things to do in terms of figuring things out. For Jersey Boys, luckily I had done a show in 2001 in the West End called Peggy Sue Got Married. It took place in the late ’50s and early ’60s. So to prepare for that show, I watched endless, endless, endless tapes of Hullabaloo, American Bandstand, all sorts of Beach Blanket videos. I watched recording groups of the period; I mean, back then we didn’t even have YouTube, so I had to dig a little bit into the television library. You couldn’t even get it on the computer, so I actually had to really go out into the trenches to find all that footage. I find research really empowering and liberating. With Jersey Boys, the Four Seasons didn’t really dance. They just stood and sang at their microphones and played their instruments. So I found ways in which I could create a version of the “Mashed Potato” or “the Twist” that felt interesting and hip and cool for them. I do a lot of research before I go into the rehearsal room to increase my knowledge of the period.

DES MCANUFF since 1985

LG | And what research did you do for Hands on a Hardbody? ST | I watched the documentary. I looked at some stuff about Texas and Texas culture and some two-stepping because I wasn’t familiar with it. One of my friends is a Texan, so I had him teach me how to do the Texas two-step. But ultimately the whole way that I approached Hands on a Hardbody was different from any show I’ve ever prepared before. That one was a unique experience. LG | To my mind there’s such a wonderful diversity of dance on Broadway right now. You have Josh Rhodes’s work in Cinderella, which is more of a kind of traditional musical theatre choreography; and you with what you were doing in Hands on a Hardbody; Peter Darling’s hip-hop-infused dance in Matilda; and Steven Hoggett creating a visual palette with his translation of lyric/text into movement. And I also want to mention Glass Menagerie, which is using dance as a narrative device within a straight play—I’m just wondering, what are your feelings about choreography right now in musicals? Because we seem to be at a very interesting point. ST | I think with all the names that you are mentioning, Josh and Hoggett and Peter and myself, I mean, we’re all sort of the new wave. I think we’re all just trying to find our own way of expressing ourselves. Peter just did Billy Elliot and now Matilda and both those shows have very different vocabularies, but you can see the hand of the same master because he’s so creative. Hoggett, to me, feels like an actor’s choreographer; more behavioral and interesting. He finds little quirky ways of moving. Josh has grown up in a Broadway environment, although Josh is capable of more. And I mean that in a really good way. And I’m trying to sacrifice my ego and just service the piece. You know Andy Blankenbeuhler’s the same way. I hope I push the envelope forward. We’re all trying to make sure that we keep the art form fresh. New and fresh, and to some degree, moving forward. LG | Yes, that’s certainly what I’m seeing, and I’m loving everything that I’m seeing. Why do you choose to choreograph in the theatre rather than choreographing for a ballet or a modern company? When you first began considering yourself as a choreographer, why did you choose musical theatre? ST | I love theatre, even in my latest, most amazing experience on the Jersey Boys movie. I just love the collaboration of working in musical theatre. I think it’s one of the most collaborative art forms. And as incredibly arduous and challenging as it can be and, at times, painful, it’s always at the end of the day the most gratifying art form. There’s nothing like collaborating. Working with your costume designer, with your set designer, with your director, your composers, lyricists, and so on and so forth, it’s just…there’s nothing like it. It’s the art form that requires the truest collaboration out of all of them. LG | Yes, I was doing a lot of research on Robbins this last summer and the thing that ultimately made him leave the musical theatre was exactly the collaborations. [laughs] He must have loved it and he must have thrived on it, but then he reached a point where he just couldn’t bear to collaborate any longer. ST | Totally. Well, you know, after I finished up Hands on a Hardbody, I felt like I needed to take a breath away from Broadway for a little bit. So I’m working on a tango piece that I’ve been working on for the past three years in Argentina—with John Wagman and Gustavo Santaolalla, who’s a very famous Argentine composer. He’s composed music for the score of Brokeback Mountain and Babel. He won the Academy Award for both of those and he has a tango band called Bajofondo, which is a rocktango band. I heard their CD about 15 years ago and I knew I wanted to do something with that music. He approached me three years ago about working with him on a dance piece and I’ve been working on it ever since. We’re actually going to premiere in Toronto next winter. That’s

a little bit more of a dance theatre piece. It’s still theatre, but it’s got a different set of requirements; it’s not a Broadway show. The challenge of Hands on a Hardbody made me want to broaden my horizons. LG | Is it purely dance? Does it have dialogue and song? ST | The entire thing is all dance. It’s based on an original idea that John Weidman and I came up with. It is a love story, told through tango set against the back drop of the Dirty War. This was a historically important period in Argentina between 1976-1983 because during this time 30,000 people “disappeared”. All of them kidnapped, tortured, and murdered by the dictator government, which took over during this time. LG | Have you studied tango? ST | I’ve studied it, yes, because I had to do some choreography for the tango dancing in The Addams Family. But I’m also working with a tango choreographer from Argentina who’s really talented. LG | Oh, I can’t wait to see it. ST | Yeah, I’m excited; we’re going to open it in Toronto in February. I go there in November to rehearse. We’re rehearsing in Argentina. I’m bringing in Argentine dancers and musicians. LG | That just sounds fantastic. Can you talk about what else you have coming up? ST | The other thing that I’m doing, which is really kind of a lot of fun, is I’m working with a group from De La Guarda. They’re doing a new show, so I’m collaborating with them, creating this new show we did in Mexico City this past summer. We’ll probably be in Miami next summer. That’s really interesting, too, because that’s a totally different kind of theatremaking. I’m also doing a new project called Broadway 4D. We will be filming iconic dance numbers in 3D and they’ll be shown in a movie theatre that’s being renovated on 42nd Street. LG | Wow. What do you mean, “iconic dance numbers”? ST | Well, we’re doing 42nd Street, “Lullaby of Broadway,” A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, “Comedy Tonight,” West Side Story, Peter Pan, “Bali Hai,” “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning,” Cabaret. I’m the supervising choreographer; I’m doing most of the numbers and we’re bringing in guest choreographers: Kathleen Marshall’s doing one of the numbers, Rob Ashford’s doing another one of the numbers, and Jerry Mitchell’s doing another one of the numbers. And there will be stars in each one of them. LG | So, they’ll do a new take on the number? ST | Yes, some of them will be; they’ll be a suggestion of what it was. They won’t be museum pieces—some of them will feel like the old number, but with a brand-new kind of shine on it; our take on it. LG | And they’ll be filmed in 3D, like Wim Wenders’s Pina Bausch movie? ST | That’s right. LG | What a fantastic idea. ST | Yes, so we’ll commence shooting next summer, I believe. That will be a lot of fun. And then there are three new shows that I’m working on. I’m doing one with my team from Memphis, and another piece that Neil and I are working on, and then a new musical with Alan Menken, so there’s a lot of great stuff coming.

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SDC FOUNDATION

iven by Stage Directors and Choreographers Foundation and named after Zelda Fichandler, a founder of the American regional theatre movement, the Zelda Fichander Award celebrates significant achievement in the field of theatre, singular creativity and artistry, and a deep investment in a particular region. The award is not for lifetime achievement; rather the intent is to honor an artist for both accomplishment to date and with significant promise for the future. An outstanding director or choreographer making an exceptional contribution to the national arts landscape through theatre work in a region is awarded an unrestricted grant of $5,000. The Fichandler Award is given regionally on a rotating basis. In 2013, the award honored achievement in the Central region, comprised of Alabama, Arkansas, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, and Wisconsin. On November 4, Charles Newell received the 2013 Zelda Fichandler Award at Cincinnati PlayHouse in the Park. The following are excerpts from speeches delivered at the event and summaries given in the Finalists’ evaluations. 38

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ZELDA FICHANDLER FOUNDER

I wish I could be there among you. Or write these words legibly. A recent eye surgery blurs the lines and letters, but clearly or not, I want to share with you some thoughts about our Theatre—with a capital “T”—now well into its middle age—and then say some words to Charlie Newell, since over the years our lives and work have crossed, and since it is my honor to honor him for this award, which by consensus of his peers, he so richly deserves. This show tune from Annie Get Your Gun pops into my mind out of nowhere. You can sing along if you know it. It goes: There’s no business like show business, Like no business I know. Everything about it is appealing, Everything the traffic will allow. Nowhere could you get that happy feeling, When you are stealing that extra bow. There’s no people— No! No! No! No! We loved the toe-tapping rhythms, the highstepping dancing, and the robust, out-there acting, but we wanted something more! Something deeper. We wanted to be able to get a little serious now and then and look out at the world with empathy and parse it for meaning and understanding. And put down roots in our various communities—one community much like the other on the level of our long, human story, but each unique from a social point of view: our politics, our local history, our economic circumstances, our daily rituals. We wanted to have a continuing conversation with our audience—those within reach of our voice and our ideas—to make them a quintessential part of our artistic homes and meet up with them at the grocery store, when we filled up the gas tank, and have our kids get together with their kids. We wanted to do new plays born in our own lifetimes, written by our contemporaries, while at the same time keep alive the Theatre’s

treasures from the past, because it’s wrong to think the past is dead when, in truth, it’s not even past! Great works of art have perpetual life and we wanted to experience them again and again as the world turned and drink in their wisdom and depth. We wanted as artists to work together like families who have their own ways of seeing and doing things—their own style. It’s years later now. How have we made out? I’m doing some writing now and asking myself some questions like: did we get what we meant to have? Did we make what we intended to make? Did we build it our way for good and all—so it will persist? Are we recognized by our culture, accepted by it—in the aggregate—all of us together—as the real American Theatre, its dominant form? Can our founding visions be supported in a capitalist country? My answers are all over the place: yes/no; yes, sometimes; yes, in some places; no, not yet; yes, I think we’re acknowledged to be America’s Theatre; no, we need more financial support, and from whence cometh our help? We have a right to have a sense of betrayal, of promises, expressed or implicit, reneged on. The NEA was never going to fight the battle against censorship. Bill Clinton said it directly to Jane Alexander when she was chair. He put it into words: there was no political capital in it for him to take it on. There was never a replacement for W. McNeil Lowry of the Ford Foundation who first sought us out and then raised us up. And other foundations drifted away to other causes. Corporations helped for a while but they found our fare too risky for their clients’ night on the town. Many local communities are burned out with giving. And we spend our powers on assorted money-raising projects and lose time for our imaginings. Bad for us, but “Good for us!” We hang in there and make it work somehow. We have strong, healthy guts as well as talent, and I’m proud of that. We have to watch out for the show biz invitations to bring to them what we make at home. They need us. They need our theatres, our stages, our audiences, our new plays, our ability to take risks. They can’t risk a failure and we can. They can’t afford taking a show on the ZELDA FICHANDLER since 1987 | CHARLES NEWELL since 1990

road to try it out. In return for what we have, they will give us a portion of the golden goose. But with the goose comes control of what we’re making—and the more goose, the more control. They love to be part of the work, but we need to keep the only thing that matters to us in the end—our artistic choices, our integrity, our wholeness. “He who pays the piper calls the tune.” Always and forever. “He who pays the piper calls the tune.” Be very careful; don’t let them dismantle our dreams. Let me tell you how I feel, given the litany of hazards I’ve laid out here in the midst of an important celebration. I feel realistic and I feel tentatively optimistic and I feel that my thoughts are on the right track. This latest arc of our centurylong attempt to create an art theatre outside the dictates of commerce began in Dallas in 1947, with Margo Jones, in a 198-seat theatre with a repertory of classics and new plays. It lasted for 10 years, until her death. It is now 2013. No other attempt has persevered for so long, been so widespread, been so seminal— so fertile—so transformational, so rooted in their separate regions across the 3,000 miles of a large and diverse country.

spend long months rooting a production in the history of its time, as they search for how it lives in ours. It is only poverty that keeps our directors from enriching their work in this historical detail. I envy you the creative interaction you have with university scholars. Manifoldness is the law of evolution. Fruits, trees, foods, languages, body types, the colors of babies and their parents are overflowingly numerous. By the time we are not much older, we white people will be in the minority. If our theatres don’t make moves of inclusion as you have done, if we don’t catch up with you, the mirror we hold up to nature will be broken and we will have outlived our function. I’m admiring of how far you’ve taken this idea. I wasn’t able to go as far as you have and I regret that. I believe that theatre is a gift and should be free, like air and water and education. If it can’t be free, it should be as cheap as possible. In 1950, an Arena ticket cost $1.90; in today’s money, $18.00. And I fought to keep it low through the years. I don’t know your prices, but I think you agree that the price of tickets is a form of censorship, defining who comes in and who can’t, shaping the composition of the audience and ultimately the repertory. The average ticket price for Harold Pinter’s Betrayal for the week ending October 13 was $150.87; the top premium was $423. So much for show business.

New forms, new ways of organizing and sustaining work appear every time I look to find out if that is, indeed, so. I have no doubt that because we are producing in small enough units, we are better able to control our budgets, and by various means match up our vision to our resources. This, I think, is key. I have a certain trepidation about the largest theatres and I doubt that there will be many, if any, of this size launched in what we can see of the future. Those that now exist are being aggressive about survival and creative growth. I trust artists to build what they need in order to do their work. I believe in their hunger. The artists come before the art and they are—you are—strong and imaginative and willful and will prevail. I believe this.

Dear Charlie, I send you a message of admiration and celebration—for what you have achieved at the Court Theatre in the past 20 years and what you will continue to achieve as you embark on the next 20, for you know what you are doing and why. And your talent as a director will only deepen and broaden in the creative environment you have established there. You may not know that there is a trend of thought in theatre—expressed in talk, articles, and one book in particular—that artistic directors should stop pressing their choices of plays on the audiences, presenting what they think audiences should see, not what audiences want to see. I find this line of thinking not only misguided but dangerous, as theatre is an art form, not a service industry. I congratulate you for many things, but first that you choose your work by how it affects you personally in a deep, emotional way and entices you to explore it in rehearsal with your comrades-in-art. The great artists of any art form have always worked from deep within themselves, changes in style following changes in self.

Another significant contribution you make not only to Chicago, but to the entire field, is finding a way to support your theatre by associating with another institution, in your case the University of Chicago. Scholarship and production have always been twins in the major theatres of history. The leading contemporary Russian directors whom I know HAROLD PINTER d.2008 | ALAN SCHNEIDER d.1984

Finally, Charlie, this award acknowledges that you are a child—now grown-up—a product of the new art form in the making for 100 years. A few people began it—for some reason (or no reason), the first three were women. Then it picked up speed until there are so many examples of the initial impulse, I don’t want to say the number because it’s so large as to be beyond belief. We have serious problems, fundamentally economic, but with some anguish and some—we hope not—losses, we will find a way or ways to keep on keeping on. Our main strength is that we touch each other, learn from each other, support each other. And you represent that salient strength. You are mentoring young artists as you were mentored. And out of what you discovered about the art of theatre, you found your own path and went on to create one of the leading theatres of America.

When you were fifteen, Robert Prosky’s Willie Loman at Arena Stage in 1975 tugged at you and you were hooked. Many leading directors, from America and abroad, shared their work with you as they did with me, especially Alan Schneider. I took his notes and shopped for props for him, while theoretically he was working for me. I learned and learned, and in the end, I too found my own way. And taught others what I had learned in my 25 years at NYU. And so we keep each other strong and our theatres strong—an achievement each of us in the room should be proud of. I so look forward to your visit with me in D.C. I salute you. Please rise and show Charlie how you feel about him.

PHOTO

Michael Butcher

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PHOTO

CHARLES NEWELL

built. And with our host, Blake Robison. This couldn’t happen for me in a better place with a better group of folks.

When Laura Penn called me and gave me the news, I literally leapt for joy. And I’ve been on fire ever since. What I want to do tonight is three things: to give thanks, to share a journey, and to seize this opportunity to address my colleagues. When else will I get such a chance?

Finally, I thank Zelda. Zelda called me and we had this fantastic phone conversation, as only Zelda can. And then, she invited me to visit her in Washington, D.C., to continue our talk. That opportunity alone makes this award indescribably delicious. And, as I now share my journey with you, I hope I can make you see how Zelda has been the godmother of my professional life. I have been on a parallel, but never quite touching, journey with Zelda until now. Thanks to this award, I have the opportunity to get to know her better.

2013 RECIPEINT

First, let me give thanks. I’ve got to first thank… I’m going to try to go quick, but sometimes I talk too fast, so tell me to slow down; my heart is pumping out of my chest…I give thanks for being included among the finalists. I’m proud to be part of this group: Peter Brosius, Jeff Church, Rebecca Holderness, and Kimberly Senior. We are the class of 2013. I thank Sean Graney for his introduction. How great to mentor someone who then teaches you. Sean, I treasure you as a colleague and a mentor. You are the future of American theatre, my friend. I thank Court Theatre’s Resident Artist, Ronald OJ Parson, who nominated me for this award. You are a true blessing in my life, and a gift to Chicago and Court Theatre. I thank the selection committee, led by the dynamic Chay Yew. And what a selection committee! I mean, I thought, give this award to any one of them! So, to be recognized by your peers in this way? Wow. I give thanks to the SDC Foundation led by Sheldon Epps and the Executive Committee, who made this award manifest. And thanks to Laura Penn and Ellen Rusconi for making it happen. And what a joy to join the Fichandler Fantastic Four. Jonathan Moscone, Michael Halberstam, Blanka Zizka, and Bill Rauch. I want to be part of any club these artists belong to. And to be in the house that Ed Stern

In Zelda’s comments tonight, she mentioned the performance of Robert Prosky as Willie Loman in Death of a Salesman. My mother took me to see that production when I was 15. At the conclusion of the performance, I started weeping. No clarity about why; it just hit something at the deepest level. And that’s really what launched my pursuit of a life in the theatre. I wanted to get inside something that could provoke such emotion. I then had the crazy luck to have two singular educational mentors: Ted Walch at St. Albans School in Washington, D.C., and Bill Francisco at Wesleyan University in Connecticut. I want to acknowledge their nurturing, for it truly launched me. Now, check this out: my journey progressed with the following master directors. I spent a season with Mark Lamos at Hartford Stage, working on The Greeks and Anthony and Cleopatra. I went to the Guthrie Theater, where Liviu Ciulei taught me about theatrical architecture and conceptualization. I went on tour for 18 months with Margot Harley’s The

Mark Bowen Media

Acting Company, where I assisted Michael Kahn, learning extraordinary things from that man, as you can only imagine. To then assist Alan Schneider on one of his very last productions. To sit at the feet of John Houseman as he revived Cradle Will Rock. To assist Lucian Pintilie on his production of The Wild Duck. And all this time, Zelda’s influence hovered around me. She had introduced me to Lucian; assisting him at Arena Stage was a direct link to my going to the Guthrie Theater. I then met JoAnne Akalaitis there. That woman changed my life. It was then a great honor for me to offer JoAnne that first directing job after she left the Public Theater. Her many productions at Court catapulted us into national awareness. Finally, Zelda made possible the journey that had the most impact: she introduced me to my late, great mentor, Garland Wright. When he became Artistic Director of the Guthrie, he asked me to be his first Resident Director. We then co-directed The History Cycle. Through the creation of that three-play, nine-hour extravaganza, our goal was to create a true company of actors. Throughout my career, Zelda’s belief that the best work comes from a group of artists that stay in residence together has been vital to me. After Zelda brought my production of Two Gentlemen of Verona to the Kreeger Stage at Arena, I was asked to join Court Theatre in Chicago. There, the most gracious of founding directors, Nicholas Rudall, welcomed me with open arms, and a year later I became the Artistic Director. So, for 20 glorious years, Court Theatre has been my artistic home. Zelda’s example taught me primary lessons of inclusion, of community, of the need for stories that must be told, and of the prospect

that nonprofit theatres might partner with other institutions. This last lesson has lead Court to create a new model with our parent institution, the University of Chicago. As Oskar Eustis described at a gathering on campus here: where else than at institutions of higher learning exists the level of investment and support for risk-taking, experimentation, and research? Nonprofit theatres have a clear opportunity to partner with these universities, creating work that we struggle to make on our own. Taught by Zelda’s example, I have seized new opportunities. Think of Court Theatre and the University of Chicago as two intertwining strands, a sort of double helix, as artists make art and scholars make knowledge. And how might these two enterprises deeply inform the making of both? We recently launched our Center for Classic Theatre at the University of Chicago. The depth and breadth of Zelda’s idea of inclusion defines all our efforts. Given this journey, given these mentors, given all this inspiration from Zelda, I want to share this award with others, for I am a blessed man in so many ways. I have the best work partner in Steve Albert; we share not only a passion and vision for Court, but also an ambition for “making some noise.” I am blessed with the most supportive board and supremely talented staff. And no artist has a more generous patron than the University of Chicago. I share this award with them; we have won this award together. When I was in junior high, and then high school, I was Boxer to her Clover in Animal Farm. I was Mitch to her Blanche in Streetcar. And I was John Proctor to her Abigail in The Crucible. Since then, my wife Kate Collins has taught me so much about many things. Honey, I love you more than I can possibly say in a public setting. But I’m going to say it anyway. We just celebrated 21 years of marriage together with our sons, Jake (19) and Luke (16). You are the love of my life. So that’s my journey to today. Now, a quote from Zelda about directors, taken from Todd London’s glorious An Ideal Theater: “What is on our stages is who we are, and the way we look at ourselves, each other, and at our world. The psychic engine (it is a biological law and not a metaphor) requires inputs, returns, in order to generate new impulses. The artist requires that he hear his own voice, at best a highly intricate process because to hear it, he must often turn away inside and pretend he’s not listening so that the voice makes itself heard and does not sound because it is being poked at. Next to impossible within the cacophony of these institutions of ours. So the directors, the conductors of the collective creativity, supposedly the fount for the energy and spirits of the Thing, getting and spending lay wastes OSKAR EUSTIS since 1997

their powers. Dust fills their brains and mouths and when it does not it is because they use up half their gut to keep it from pouring in.” Which is a pretty devastating indictment of the life of a director. With that in mind, I have some thoughts to share. Maybe they will be helpful to the field, to my colleagues, to reveal some of the challenges that I have. I’m putting them out there because I continue to need help with these myself. JoAnne Akalaitis. She taught me this: how can you celebrate, shine a light, identify the uniqueness of your own singularity? Recognize that your uniqueness is worthy, is worthy, of being revealed. And that you, in your individuality, need to show up to yourself. JoAnne’s demand that I own my uniqueness was a shattering, yet releasing experience. I share that with my fellow directors. On that phone call with Zelda, she was literally giggling as she spoke: “Yeah, Charlie, the way you choose plays, what you wrote in your nomination statement, that’s how I do it.” So I share this with you: “I read a text. It elicits a strong emotional response, one that I cannot explain, only feel deeply in my gut. From this place of instinct, the process of directing starts for me. The journey to understanding the ‘Why?’ of my response is only discovered (if at all) by the final performance.” The best advice from Garland Wright: “Charlie, if you want a career as a director, you have to commit your life to a never-ending journey about actor process.” And I said, “Sign me up!” Because it never ends; there’s no finish to it. Every actor in every show, even if it’s an actor you’ve worked with for 20 years, is in a different place in their process. So there’s always discovery in the journey. Fabulous! This very process of being nominated for the Zelda Fichandler Award: we directors should write an annual personal statement. It forces you to define who you are, really put down how we identify ourselves. That level of defining self I just found incredibly valuable. Thank you, SDCF, for that. I believe we artistic leaders need to create more training opportunities for directors. Having lived it, I believe that the art and craft of directing is best served by the model from ancient guilds: master artist mentoring apprentice. And do that together in the rehearsal room, making the work. Garland created precisely this with his visionary Resident Director Program. Plus, in serving as an assistant director, you have firsthand training for becoming an artistic director. One’s value as an assistant is, I believe, defined by how well you get inside the gut of that director, to help them achieve what they themselves often cannot articulate. And isn’t that what we

artistic directors should do to support guest directors and other powerful artists who come in and shake up our theatres? And cause us to do stuff that we never would or could do? Again, Garland taught me this lesson: hire directors who scare you, that are not you. Hire directors that force you outside of who you are, and challenge your theatre and your audience. Lastly, it’s my belief that through risk we create intimacy. Both in yourself and in your life. In your work, and in your art. Two mentors exemplified this in different ways: Garland tapped deeper into himself than any individual I know. It’s one of the reasons why he had such protective armor. (In fact, Zelda recently shared that though she worked with Garland for many years, even she felt she never got to know him.) For whatever reason, Garland let me in. And as I witnessed the cost of digging so deeply into himself, he challenged me with his unrelenting courage to dig. And then there is Lucian Pintilie. Lucian isn’t afraid of anything. Lucian doesn’t stop. “Let’s tear down the back wall of Arena Stage, we are going to do what we must do!” The power of that, the conviction of that, stays with me today. Here’s an image for you: I see myself as this slab of rock, with a big head, thick bones, double toes. All embedded inside that rock. And what Zelda did was to drill into my core and release something trapped within. Through this journey that I’ve been on, and through the events and people I’ve shared with you today, that slab has been falling away, piece by piece. To reveal me. I hope it doesn’t take as long for other directors to reveal themselves as it’s taken me. Or need so many people pounding away on you to fully see yourself. Rather, through my journey, I hope that you may more readily discover yourself. I receive this award to honor the spirit of my mother, Martha Paine Newell. She took me to Arena Stage to see the work. She supported me in ways innumerable. She showed up to every show I did. And she challenged me to figure out who the hell I wanted to be. Thanks to this award, my journey has brought me closer to my theatre godmother, Zelda. I feel I am now truly seeing myself and my life’s mission: to create transformative emotional experiences for myself and for my community. Zelda has the last word: “Perhaps again today, it is in the theatre where we can come most alive. Where we can identify. Where we become extraordinary men. Where the blood turns red and the sleeping half of our mind wakes up. Where we recognize some of the uncommon things we have in common. Where we remember ourselves. It is asking a lot. But surely it is there to be asked. The Greeks had a word for it. They called it theatron, a place for seeing. Perhaps we, like they, are eager for a place to see ourselves.” Thank you.

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PETER BROSIUS

JEFF CHURCH

Peter Brosius has led the Children’s Theatre Company (CTC) in Minneapolis for the past 16 years. His work has changed the definition of children’s theatre nationally, and has persistently addressed the overlooked teenage audience, and supported new and inspired productions. He has shown exceptional ability and limitless courage in putting interesting groups of people together to create and explore work, all the while generously acting as a resource for smaller theatres.

Jeff Church of The Coterie Theatre in Kansas City, Mo., was selected for the creativity and courage he has shown in involving high-caliber artists and tackling tough topics in theatre for young audiences. His stated goal has been to open The Coterie up to be a “multigenerational” theatre for all ages, redefining it to include families and diverse audiences, and he has done this by taking risks, being loyal, and demanding as much from children’s theatre as we do of general theatre.

2013 FINALIST

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2013 FINALIST

“

I have found collaborating with artists from the visual arts or music world has given me access to different artistic

vocabularies, and has jumpstarted my thinking in new ways. The most important collaboration of my career has been with playwright Laurie Brooks. Most of Laurie’s eight plays that I’ve In creating theatre for young people, I feel both an

commissioned/directed have compelled me to arrive at a bold

immense opportunity and a responsibility. We may be

metaphor for staging the story. Her plays have also asked me to

the first theatre that someone sees. We can excite them with an

find ways to reveal ever-changing status among the characters,

amazing art form that merges text, image, movement, character,

and to employ Boal techniques. Keeping the actors in character

light, sound, character; an art form that can excite and transform

following the performance—in order for the audience to speak

them now and for the rest of their lives; or we can bore them and

to and advise them in special ways—has yielded some of the

have them forever disregard the theatre as a place of meaning

most exciting theatre with which I’ve been associated. Another

or joy. This is why I have chosen to make work that brings

experience that has made me a better director is linked to when I

together writers of extraordinary gifts, designers and actors

began The Coterie’s Lab for New Family Musicals. Ten years ago,

of immense creativity and theatricality, and why I have chosen

it piloted as a way for Broadway writing teams to find their way

to develop and refine our work over the years in workshops,

into the field of youth and family theatre by taking the authors’

readings, and discussions. When I commission writers for my

large-cast, three hour Broadway musicals and streamlining

theatre, I ask them simply to write the best play of their lives.

them. Here I was, trying to give first-time theatregoers the same

When I make theatre for young people, I get to make work for

excitement I have about musical theatre. Why shouldn’t we try to

a community that I am deeply passionate about, an important

get the best and work with the leaders of the industry?”

audience that is redefining the world in terms of fashion, politics, arts, and challenging how the publishing and music industries makes and markets work; they are taking control of creative processes and producing their own work in every known genre. Young people are a dynamic force that reshapes our consciousness every day. If we build a love of this art form from

TOP LEFT

Peter Brosius directing Alice in Wonderland at CTC PHOTO Dan Norman

the earliest years, we know from the research that those adults who were engaged with the performing arts as young people are much more likely to engage with the arts as adults. It is truly not complicated—it is a joyous work, a powerful work, and I feel

ABOVE

Jeff Church PHOTO Zachary Andrews

lucky every day to be able to do this.”

OPPOSITE TOP LEFT

Rebecca Holderness PHOTO Lisa Fadden OPPOSITE TOP RIGHT PHOTO

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Kimberly Senior Brandon Dahlquist

PETER BROSIUS since 1994 | JEFF CHURCH Assc. since 1991

REBECCA HOLDERNESS 2013 FINALIST

Rebecca Holderness is a force of theatre in Milwaukee as a director, choreographer, educator, and Artistic Director of The Battery Factory, through which she links artists and entrepreneurs. She arrived in Milwaukee in 2005 to a community that she felt deserved a theatre bold enough to express the community’s stories, a theatre that inspired people more deeply. Rebecca is committed to creating that theatre, with the goals of fighting isolation and segregation, enlivening empty buildings and failing neighborhoods, modeling access and experimentation, and keeping artists in Milwaukee.

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KIMBERLY SENIOR 2013 FINALIST

Our first freelance artist to be selected as a finalist is Kimberly Senior, who, through a deeply generous spirit, devotion to new work, and clarity of purpose mixed with limitless creativity, has established strong roots in Chicago, becoming an important part of a busy arts landscape. Her championing of new work, her faith in and commitment to mentoring, and her belief in building a national career through work in Chicago—though a New Jersey native—are an inspiration.

ground, to explain my point of view and willingness to find a

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way to work within existing limits without giving in to them.

many more than once, and these repeated relationships are

Working as a determined boundary-pusher can be a dangerous thing in a town like Milwaukee. The ghost

pushes back, finding hundreds of reasons at every juncture not to take that risk. It takes a personal determination to stand my

It became clear I needed some cohorts. Just about two years ago, Nic Bernstein and I discovered we liked the same kind of theatre. Nic, a prominent businessman and art collector, has a perspective on Milwaukee, and with his help and partnership we were able to invest the sweat equity of my NYC-based 501(c) (3) (Holderness Theater Company) into forming Wisconsinbased The Battery Factory (TBF), which brings arts and business professionals together with those just entering these fields. Artists, performers, directors, and producers mingle with real estate developers, urban planners, entrepreneurs, business leaders, and community stakeholders to power the growth of Greater Milwaukee. With production and presentation, advocacy, fiscal sponsorship, audience, and venue development, TBF will power new arts opportunities and strive to better integrate the performing arts into all communities. I feel that TBF can play a pivotal role in the continuing struggle of Milwaukee to reinvent itself. Determined leadership in the arts community supported by people in city government, and business leaders, forging new horizons for emerging theatremakers, can join with Milwaukee’s historic past to make arts vital.”

REBECCA HOLDERNESS Assc. since 2013 | KIMBERLY SENIOR since 2010

When I first moved to Chicago, I had no idea of the richness of theatre here, and how it would shape me

as an artist. I have worked at over 20 Chicago institutions, remarkable because I have gotten to know the institutions, their staff, and their audiences more intimately each time. I love my collaborations with the institutions’ staffs, where I am able to consider how my play fits within a season and is in conversation with the other plays. It is tremendous fortune to move freely between institutions, with the ability to spread and share resources and information. I feel my greatest impact in this community has been in the form of mentorship. On each and every show that I direct, I have former students on the stage as my assistants and behind the scenes. I want to lead by example, and I have been blessed with extraordinary mentors. It is both a responsibility and joy to take on that role with our future artistic leaders. I see my students moving forward, working at theatres where they began as interns. I watch their work grow from production to production and continue the conversation beyond the classroom. I have loved every moment of my career thus far, learning what translates from one stage to another, toying with distance and intimacy between audience and performer. Chicago provides the opportunity to move freely among these theatres, and to continue exploring their boundaries.”

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SDC FOUNDATION Marlo Hunter

“

I want to thank the Callaway committee for this incredible honor. When Linda called me to inform me that I had won this award, I was of course shocked and elated, but I’m also ashamed

to say I was confused. Unlock’d has no large production numbers; there are no complex technical dance sequences anywhere in the piece. As a director and choreographer, I often take for granted the craft of musical staging and the nebulous skill that falls between the cracks; that the director and choreographer’s role is a tricky dance, if you will, when that role is fulfilled by two people. So it is particularly meaningful to me that that craft was recognized. There are few aspects of storytelling that bring me more joy than creating an organically motivated moment and movement born from the text or from the emotional world of the actor, and wedding that with a strong stage picture that will evoke a specific emotional response from the audience. So I’m really doubly honored the craft of musical staging was considered this year. And I’d like to say thank you to SDC, who provided my first life-changing career opportunity through that SDCF Observership with Susan Stroman on The Music Man. That experience really shaped me as an artist, it opened so many doors. I can’t thank you enough and I’m so proud to be a Member. Thank you, again, to the Callaway for this honor.”

Ruben Santiago-Hudson 2013 RECIPIENTS The Joe A. Callaway Award recognizes excellence in the craft of direction and choreography and is the only award given by professional directors and choreographers to their peers for work on a specific production. To be eligible for this year’s award, the production had to take place during the 201213 New York theatre season (September 1, 2012 - August 31, 2013) and had to take place within the five boroughs of New York City under an Actors’ Equity Association contract other than the Showcase code and Broadway contract. The artist must be a Member of SDC. This year, Stage Directors and Choreographers Foundation presented the Joe A. Callaway Award to Ruben Santiago-Hudson for his direction of The Piano Lesson produced by Signature Theatre, and to Marlo Hunter for her choreography of Unlock’d produced by Prospect Theater Company.

“

I want to thank the tremendous artists who collaborate with me because I give each person a responsibility in the room, whether it’s my assistant, or whether it’s an intern, I’ll say, what

do you think? Because even though I do think that I know a hell of a lot, I don’t know as much as they think I do. All I am is a product of all the people around me and the information that they give me, and it’s true, I make that final decision, but it is an informed decision and the information that I gather from everyone around me is vital. And I include each person in the room, whether it’s the person pushing in the wardrobe, or the person who’s taking out the wardrobe or the garbage. I even ask the security guy—I say, what do you think? The moment that I realized I can make a difference in the world doing something I love I think was the most cherished moment in my life. I didn’t know how I was gonna make a difference, but I knew that I needed to. I want to tell you all to continue to, as August used to say, continue to work the art, ’cause anything you have a right to is art and that thing is exclusively yours; never let anybody stop you from doing it, never let anybody hinder you from doing it, never let anybody tell you you can’t do it. It’s all possible and I want to continue to not only make the people who believe in me proud, I want to continue to make you all proud for allowing me to have this honor. So as long as I have breath in my body, I will continue to either act, direct, or write in this country and all of this world. If I could ever make a difference by any one person or multitudes of people in my life, then my living is not in vain. Thank you.”

The event was held on October 28, 2013, at Pigalle in New York City. 44

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MARLO HUNTER since 2006 | RUBEN SANTIAGO-HUDSON since 2006 | SUSAN STROMAN since 1987

FROM THE ARCHIVES

WHY ARE THESE PEOPLE DANCING? On Feb. 5, 1997, MICHAEL KIDD was interviewed by JOE MALONE at the Beverly Hills Library. The interview was co-produced by Zack Reed, Julie McDonald, and Peggy Holmes for the Media Choreographers Committee of SSDC, and technically produced by Allen Walls. This interview was a part of the “Conversation with Master Choreographers” series, funded in part by proceeds from the annual Bob Fosse Awards. JOE MALONE | In light of the fact that he is receiving an honorary Academy Award this year, we thought that this evening would be best served by allowing Michael Kidd to elaborate on his choreographic process as it relates to filmmaking. So, Michael, how do you approach choreographing for a movie musical? MICHAEL KIDD | I’ll start by telling about an incident that happened to me early on that had a profound effect on everything that I did thereafter. I choreographed and was performing in a ballet called On Stage, in New York, and the producers of Finian’s Rainbow came to see it, and asked me to choreograph the show. I didn’t know anything about doing a Broadway show. I’d never been in a Broadway show, but l said to myself, if I don’t do it, who are they going to get? I studied the field of likely people, and I figured that I could do it as well as they could. The director was a lovely man named Bretaigne Windust, who I’m sorry to say is no longer with us. He had done straight movies and plays, but he had never done a musical, so he called on me to stage every scene that had a lot of people in it. He gave me one number to do called “If This Isn’t love.” I put together a series of lovely flowing movements. I was right out of a ballet company, and I loved dancing. I thought it was beautiful. I called him in to see it and sat back, assuming that he would compliment me. Instead he said, “I don’t understand this, Michael. Anyone could have done this.” I said, “What do you mean, anybody? Doesn’t the movement have a lovely flow to it?” He said, “Yes, the movement is very nice; it has a lovely flow to it, but it doesn’t have any of your personality in it.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “When I saw your ballet, it had humor, musicality. It was whimsical. It had invention. Anybody could have done this—it doesn’t have your distinctive stamp on it at all. It has to have your personality.”

I was extremely disappointed. But then I went back and thought about what I liked to do in the ballet company. I liked the character parts. I was never cut out for being the Swan Prince. I liked doing Billy the Kid. The ballet that I did dealt with characters, emotions, behavior, and the relationship of one person to another. I thought, well, maybe that’s what I better do. So I redid that number, making six couples: one very brash couple, one very prim couple, one jazzy couple, and so forth, showing various aspects of different people in love. We opened it out of town and it was a big success. I had never forgotten the words of Windust, and I pass it on to any young choreographer: make sure it has your own stamp and your own personality on it. Otherwise it will be like anybody else’s, and anyone could have done it.

of their personality. I look for people who not only dance well, but also people who reveal a personality that we would be interested in seeing on stage. Very often when I would get stuck, I’d ask myself, “What’s the plot at this point? Who are the people involved?” Then I would try to devise a dance or a scene that would involve the people so that I could get their reaction. I’d get the reaction on a personal basis, not just by watching abstract movement. That doesn’t mean that I find fault with abstract movement—I like going to the ballet. But the singular personality is generally what attracts me. MALONE | Which film would you cite that is an example of this?

MALONE | How do you go about doing that?

KIDD | Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

KIDD | I learned over the years to ask myself some questions: what’s it about? Who are the people in it? What kind of people are they? How do they have to move? What is their relationship to one another, and is there an emotional basis to the scene? Why are they dancing? Thereafter, having been inspired by Windust’s words, I’ve tried to use the dancers not primarily as dancers, but primarily as people, as individuals, who dance to express themselves. I learned a long time ago, in conducting auditions and watching people dance, that we all have become very expert at concealing our personalities. We assume a character that is not necessarily our own, but one that we feel will be socially acceptable. When people move they don’t know how to do that—they don’t cover up. So when they dance, when they move, they reveal their personalities. I use that in every audition. One of the questions that will come up is, “What do you look for in auditions?” I look for people who must be expert dancers, I think it’s important. Then I try to get some inkling

MALONE | So it’s 1954, and you got a call to choreograph this big dance film. You must have just jumped at the opportunity.

STANLEY DONEN since 1993 | MICHAEL KIDD d.2007 | JOE MALONE since 2004 | BRETAIGNE WINDUST d.1960

KIDD | Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. It’s an interesting story because you don’t always know yourself what’s best for you. Stanley Donen was going to direct this movie musical based on Stephen Vincent Benét’s story “The Sobbin Women.” I read the script. Stanley came up to see me and said, “What do you think?” I said, “Stanley, you’re crazy. Here are these seven slobs, living off in the woods, making their own food, there’s manure on the floor, and they’ve got to get up and dance? Forget it, Stanley. There’s no way that these people can get up and dance.” He said, “Michael, listen to the score.” It was written by Johnny Mercer and Gene de Paul. Johnny Mercer and Frank Loesser are big favorites of mine. They are superb at transferring idiomatic speech into song. The characters are using everyday speech—not everyday speech, actually; a specialized vernacular. In Guys and WINTER 2014 | SDC JOURNAL

Dolls, for example, when the mugs sang, it was not generic speech—it was the gamblers talking. Johnny Mercer I felt the same way about. So I listened to the score. I said, “I like the songs, they’re wonderful. I don’t mind staging the songs, because staging a song is like doing a scene with music. That appeals to me. But, forget about dancing, Stanley, no way.” He said, “Fine, Michael, just do the picture.” We went to a producers’ meeting and the first thing Stanley said was, “Well, Michael, now that we have you in the picture, let’s figure out how we’re going to get some dancing in it.” I said, “Stanley, I made it very clear that there wasn’t going to be any dancing. I just can’t see these people gelling up and dancing; it’s absurd.” He said, “All right, there’s no dancing, but they come together for this big meeting—you’re going to have to do something. You’ll have to do a do-si-do.” I said, “Don’t say do-si-do. Nobody wants to watch square dancing; it’s only for participants.” He said, “We’ll have to figure out something.” I said, “Stanley, that’s a dirty trick, I’m very upset. I’m going to go home and think about it.” I went home and asked myself two questions: what’s the plot at this point? There are these seven isolated slobs who decide to come into town to look for girls. But the girls that they find are already committed to the local townspeople who are well dressed, wear ties, know how to behave properly. I thought, maybe I could figure out a dance sequence where the six—seven counting Howard Keel, who wasn’t one of the dancers—guys from Oregon try to get the six girls away from their boyfriends during the process of the musical scene. I thought, I’ll see what I can do. I called the prop man in and said, “Go down to the shop and bring me some lumber—anything that you can find that would be used in constructing a barn.” It was going to be a barnraiser. An hour later, he came up and dumped a whole pile of lumber on the stage floor. I thought, okay, what can they do, how can they move so it doesn’t look ridiculous. It has to be movement related to their activities, something we would believe. I put a couple of planks on top of some saw horses and tried it out, balanced on it myself. Little by little I made this number. The characters of the six boys were established very early on in a previous scene. They come into town and the first thing that they do is engage in a fight, and knock a few people out. The barn-raising scene is an exercise in trying to get the local towns-girls away from the local towns-boys. In it, their characters—whether they are a fighter, a tumbler, sweet and lovable—their character is always maintained. You see them as people, not just as dancers, performing actions that I felt would fit the situation.

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MALONE | How did you do all those gymnastic tricks on the planks?

keep him good-humored for the rest of the picture?” So we reached a solution.

KIDD | I bet you wonder how I learned all that stuff. That’s what happens when you grow up as a kid in New York.

I said, “Tommy, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll set the camera up shooting between the planks, with no safety plank in between. Do it once and then we will say ‘cut.’ Then we’ll shoot the second flip with a safety plank in, and use the original shot as the third time. We’ll go back to it. But only do it once, is that clear?”

Trick is the wrong word to use. In the first place, I used to try everything myself. I wouldn’t do it today. There were actually two planks balanced between two saw horses. I tried it. I fell a couple of times, but I felt that it was not inherently dangerous. Maybe it was risky, but dancers are crazy. They like to do risky things. As a matter of fact, they insist on it sometimes. There’s one shot in the very end where Russ Tamblyn jumps on two planks, does a couple of mule kicks, and then does a backflip, landing on the two planks. It was clearly shot between the two planks. If he had missed, he would have gotten hurt. There was no protection. Tommy Roll was supposed to follow him by putting both feet on one plank and doing a front flip, which is very hard, much harder than a backflip, and landing on two planks. I felt that that was way too risky, that there was no way that he could do that without another plank in between the two that were already suspended, for safety’s sake. Then we could lower the camera so that we were shooting level with the planks so that you couldn’t see the middle plank. Having seen Russ’s flip, you would assume that there’s nothing in between. Tommy was supposed to do three of those in a row, and he was a very competitive person. He came to me and said, “Michael, Russ just did this without any safety plank. If you put the camera back where it was for Russ, I will do the trick without the extra plank there, as long as people can see that I’m really doing this trick.” I said, “Tommy, you’re crazy. We can’t do it.” Incidentally, this number was the first thing we shot, to get it out of the way, and continue the rest of the film. I said, “Tommy, we can’t take the chance. This is the first day, the first thing we’re shooting. If you fall, and get hurt, they’ll kick us all out of here, and that will be the end of the picture.” “Michael, I promise you I won’t get hurt.” “What good is your promise going to do if you fall and break your leg?” I called to the camera man and started setting up the shot. Stanley then came up to me and said, “So what do you think?” I said, “It’s too risky; we can’t do it.” Tommy saw us talking and came up and said, “Look, fellas, I know what you’re talking about. Please, put the camera there, get rid of the extra plank, I will do it, and I won’t get hurt, I promise you.” I said, “If we don’t, he’s going to sulk for the rest of the picture. Is it worth taking a risk to

He said, “Okay, it’s a deal.” We were all happy, but it was really risky, a crazy thing to do. Everyone was ready, we said, “Go.” Tommy jumped up did the whole thing dead perfect. We breathed a sigh of relief—and the cameraman said, “Wait a minute. I missed it.” By this time we were committed, so we said, “Okay, Tommy, remember, only once.” He did it perfectly again, and we all yelled, “Cut!” We repeated that shot at the beginning and at the end, and put the safety shot in between. So it was a dangerous shot, but dancers are crazy. MALONE | So what happens after this number? KIDD | They lost the girls, who remained with their local boyfriends. It was winter, and they were in a very remorseful state of affairs— they missed the girls; they were bereft. They were supposed to do this number with them sitting in a bunkhouse, singing the song “l’m a Lonesome Pole Cat,” again, a wonderful example of Johnny Mercer using idiomatic speech to depict feelings. “I’m a lonesome Pole Cat/Lonesome, sad, and blue.” There’s a pronounced beat, which repeats all the way through the number, and I decided they should be doing some activity during this song, some outdoor activity like chopping wood, so they could swing the axes and get the beat. We can emphasize that beat with a visual accent. The thing I stressed very much with the dancers was to not look at what they’re doing—don’t concentrate on sawing or chopping wood. Their minds are elsewhere. They’re thinking about the girls as they’re going through these repetitive motions, and their eyes never focus on any nearby object. That’s what we did. Again, it continues the emotional line that is set up. I’m a firm believer that only by engaging the audience with the personality and lives of the people can you hold their interest. Otherwise it’s just a divertissement. MALONE | You chose to shoot that entire sequence in one shot. KIDD | It was very carefully designed. Stanley, who is an expert camera person and a dance enthusiast, said, “Let’s try it, what the hell, nobody’s going to know the difference.” I said, “It will add to the concentration—no cuts, no interruptions.”

You realize that there are many things involved technically. The camera has to be in exactly the right position. The man who pulls the dolly has to be given the cue when to pull it, when to slow down, when to stop, when to swing the arm over. All those things have to be rehearsed as much as the dancers. In those days, there was great expertise that was developed in Hollywood, so everyone participated and knew what he was doing. We rehearsed it over and over for the camera, and then we began shooting. We’d get halfway through and somebody would make a mistake, so we’d go back to the beginning. We’d get almost all the way through and the soundtrack would fail. Shooting is very expensive on the soundstage. We agreed that we’d make one last attempt after lunch. If we got it, fine; if we didn’t, we’d break it up into cuts. After lunch we came back and shot it, and it was perfect. That’s the shot that’s in the movie. MALONE | Do you deal with each character separately, and create a whole storyline for each person? Do you create a world that they can improvise in? KIDD | My usual way of operating is to work with an existing character, or a plot line, which I try to fill in and heighten with emotional dance sequences to progress the story. I have to follow a sequence of some kind. I don’t know how to do it unless I have a guideline for myself, which includes some kind of a story. So I write up a narrative sequence. Improvising doesn’t work so well when you have to have something exact in order to film it, or for it to go exactly with the music. Everyone is told exactly what to do. In the final analysis, every single movement is spelled out, nothing is left to chance. It’s too risky. Not only that, but you can’t repeat it if it is improvised. FROM THE AUDIENCE | Do you choreograph the dance and then set up the shots, or choose your shots and then choreograph the dance? KIDD | Always the content first. People ask me which medium I prefer: movies, stage, or television. It doesn’t matter—the important thing is the conception and the content. Then you try to stage it in such a manner that it reaches the audience in the best possible way. On the stage, of course, everybody’s full-figure all the time. You can’t do that in a movie, because if you want to get everybody in the picture and pull it all the way back, everybody gets small. Sometimes instead of increasing the effect, it diminishes the effect. I will be very judicious with the use of group scenes in movies. That’s why I try always to break it up between individuals and group.

GENE KELLY d.1996 | VINCENTE MINNELLI d.1986

Usually I lay it out so that it can only be shot one way. I explain carefully ahead of time that this is the shot. I’ll ask, “Where will this go? Will this be a long shot? Will this be a close up?” I automatically think about what it will be like on the screen as I’m doing it. If I’m going to have an important piece of action coming up I focus it so you can see it and concentrate on it. We’ll lay out a shot sequence—number one, two, three—so it’s all planned for the shooting, because you can’t get on the stage with a whole crew there and start improvising. It must be carefully planned ahead of time. Once it’s laid out, we rehearse it with the performers and the camera crew so that they can see how to light it, how they’ll lay tracks, etc.

quickly lay out five minutes’ worth of the dance.” Five minutes’ worth would keep Fred occupied for two days. He’s so meticulous. He would do one dance break over and over again.

FROM THE AUDIENCE | Will you talk about collaborating with Fred Astaire on “Dancing in the Dark?”

FROM THE AUDIENCE | How close is your relationship with a film director versus a theatre director?

KIDD | Fred Astaire requested that I do the picture The Band Wagon. He had always worked with Hermes Pan, and he saw some shows that I did and he liked them. He wanted to learn some different movements and styles. So I did it.

KIDD | It depends on your status at the time. When I did The Band Wagon, my first big picture, Vincente Minnelli was the director. Vincente Minnelli had a wonderful visual sense and a creative sense, but he wasn’t a great collaborator. He didn’t like to talk about things. He kept a lot to himself. He was very inarticulate. I would finish the number and show it to Vincente, and make a few suggestions, but basically he was the one who shot it.

When it came to his doing his top-hat-andcane number, nobody could tell him what to do. I’d have been foolish to even attempt it. That he does himself, superbly. On the other numbers, for example, the “Girl Hunt Ballet,” he would come in and sit down next to me. “So, what am I doing today, Michael?” “I’m not sure.” And, I’d get up and try something with Fred sitting right there. I’d say, “I think we’ll do something like this.” He’d say, “Gee, I don’t think that’s right for me, Michael.” “Fred, I haven’t even set anything. I’m just fooling around.” “Yeah, but I don’t think that’s right for me.” It went on that way. Big stars are very concerned that they aren’t given something that they feel foolish doing. But at the same time, I couldn’t think. I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to finish the picture with Fred sitting there. I was stuck. I was getting very upset. Then I noticed something, which gave me a clue about how to proceed. At about 4:30 or 5:00—by this time, Fred must have been close to sixty—he’d ask me, “Are you going to do any more, Michael?” I’d say, “No, no, just going to go over a few things.” He would be tired and he’d say, “You don’t mind if I go home, do you?” I said, “No, go on home.” With Fred gone at 5:00, I jumped up and said, “Call the dancers together. Let’s

I said, “Okay, we’ll do this tomorrow. And remember, tomorrow, not a word.” He would show up very early and say, “So, what are we doing today, Michael?” I’d say, “Oh, something like this.” He’d say, “I like that. Let’s do that.” I said, “Fine.”

An example of a superb collaboration is the one that I had with Stanley Donen on Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Stanley loves dancing and he loves photography, and he collaborated with me every minute. He said, “Michael, it’s a wonderful number and I want to make sure I catch every aspect of it.” I learned more about how to shoot musical numbers on that experience with Stanley than I did with anybody else. He would carefully shoot every angle. That was an example of a superb collaboration. Gradually, after I did more and more pictures, I was entrusted to do things myself. In Hello, Dolly!, for example, we had two units working. Gene Kelly did the book, oddly enough, and I did all the musical numbers. We operated as two completely different units. It didn’t require any collaboration because he respected me and I respected him. I did my work. He did his. FROM THE AUDIENCE | What’s your favorite project? KIDD | That’s a hard question. I won’t really answer it, but I’ll say that my favorite musical was Guys and Dolls. It was the best combination of book, music, subplot, integrated into one. I believe it was one of the best musicals ever done, and I was very happy to be a part of it.

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THE SOCIETY PAGES SDC Members + STAFF @ work + play

TOP OF PAGE

Board Member Bob Moss with past Board Member + current Callaway Committee member Sue Lawless at the Joe A. Callaway Award Presentation on October 28 at Pigalle in NYC ABOVE

Board Member Larry Carpenter, Ovation Award Recipient Brian Kite + Val Kilmer PHOTO

Peter Konerko

LEFT TOP

Executive Director Laura Penn with Callaway Award recipients Ruben Santiago-Hudson + Marlo Hunter LEFT MIDDLE

Sean Graney + Zelda Fichandler Award Recipient Charles Newell at the 2013 Zelda Fichandler Award Presentation in Cincinnati, OH PHOTO Mark Bowen Media LEFT BOTTOM

SDC Foundation Producing Director Ellen Rusconi + past Fichandler Finalist D. Lynn Meyers at the Fichandler Award Presentation in Cincinnati, OH PHOTO Mark Bowen Media

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On November 18, SDC held its Annual Membership Meeting at Manhattan Movement and Arts Center in New York. Members and Associates gathered to learn about current Union news and activity, and to hear the results of the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;13 Executive Board Elections. At the conclusion of the meeting, SDC bid farewell to outgoing President Karen Azenberg with a surprise tribute performance honoring her service to SDC, as well her work as a Director/ Choreographer.

Incoming President Susan H. Schulman + outgoing President Karen Azenberg TOP

President Karen Azenberg, incoming Executive Vice President John Rando + Treasurer Ethan McSweeny MIDDLE LEFT TO RIGHT

Members voting at the Annual Membership Meeting BOTTOM

PHOTOS

KAREN AZENBERG since 1989 | ETHAN MCSWEENY since 1998 | JOHN RANDO since 1995 | SUSAN H. SCHULMAN since 1981

Elizabeth Miller

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Karen Azenberg Tribute Peformers TOP RIGHT SDC Counsel Ronald H. Shechtman toasting Ms. Azenberg TOP LEFT

Ms. Azenberg with Tribute Director Bill Castellino (far left), tribute performers + friends at the after party MIDDLE RIGHT Mr. Castellino, Ms. Azenberg, D.J. Salisbury + Patricia Wilcox MIDDLE LEFT

SDC Staff members Randy Anderson, Kristy Cummings, Michele Holmes, Lisi DeHaas, Mauro Melleno + Adam Levi

PHOTOS

Elizabeth Miller

BOTTOM

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KAREN AZENBERG since 1989 | BILL CASTELLINO since 1990 D.J. SALISBURY since 1995 | PATRICIA WILCOX since 1994

“

Most of the time, dance is for the professional what training is for the athlete – torture and hard work. So, when I say ‘joy’, I mean the discovery of something found, or the discovery that someone has given a new step, or a new kind of dance or movement…the training is long and arduous. But if you don’t enjoy it you better not be in it.”

GENE KELLY

While best known for his work on film, SDC Founding Member began his career as a teacher and choreographer at his family’s dance studio in Pittsburgh. After moving to New York City he began working as a dancer, director, and choreographer on Broadway. He choreographed the musicals Best Foot Forward and Flower Drum Song, and partned with director Stanley Donen in Hollywood for some of his most memorable films: On the Town, It’s Always Fair Weather, and the classic Singin’ in the Rain. Kelly strove to create dynamic routines that would shine on stage and film, and in 1951 he received an honorary Oscar for his contributions to screen choreography. He was awarded the National Medal of the Arts in 1994. 1912-1996 Gene Kelly on the Columbia Pictures backlot c/o Turner Classic Movies

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