COME ON, I’LL SHOW YOU BY MIRANDA
HAYMON
I applied to the Lincoln Center Directors Lab because I wanted to focus on craft. My parents are carpenters, and I see my own practice as akin to theirs. At this point, I had spent a significant amount of time developing new plays. I knew what kind of work I was drawn to, but I wanted to return to the school of thought based on utility, as opposed to taste. To borrow from carpentry—I wanted to spend time with other directors discussing the utility of a hammer, or a nail, or a screwdriver, for the theatre. I wanted to approach theatre as a craftsperson. My time at the Directors Lab was brief and consequential. Our final lecture was from Bartlett Sher, and his opening line to us was, “I don’t want to talk about the business with you all, I want to talk about craft.” Um?
Yes. I opened up my notebook and wrote down everything he said for the next hour and a half. Bart clarified the key difference between interpretive artists and generative artists, unclogging a drain that had kept me from exploring other parts of my artistic identity in addition to directing. Bart said, “I don’t believe in genius. I want to take away the burden of discovering your inner genius. With the right text and collaborators, you will find your groove.” The “working twice as hard to get half as far” narrative debunked. I don’t need to work twice as many hours, be a genius, or even strive toward becoming one. I can rely on what attracted me to directing in the first place: the opportunity to gather a group of people around text. Audiences, actors, and artists alike. Again and again. For the first time, the craft of directing was broken down plainly, a gift for my Virgo mind.
Intimate Apparel at Lincoln Center Theater, directed by Bartlett Sher PHOTO Julieta Cervantes
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Bart said, “These are the six areas you want to focus your interpretation of a theatrical world in: Space. Composition. Shape. Line. Rhythm. Tension.” Just like that. I wrote it down. And underneath, I wrote: Hammer. Screwdriver. Saw. Wrench. Wire cutter. Power drill. Bart went on to further explain dynamics of each of these areas. How triangles are awesome, why center stage should be avoided, and the true difference between a thrust and a proscenium. My hand was cramping, but I didn’t care. I made my way to the front of the throng that rushed him at the end of his lecture and shared an opinion I had about what his synthesis of craft meant for directors directing work outside of their own race and ethnicity. Bart said, “You’re absolutely right, and we should talk about
