I Don't Get It!

I recently received an email from a director in India who googled [sic] and found the Strand. She asked if I would send her a video of the Strand's production in the hopes of better understanding how to stage Melissa James Gibson's unique play. She said she was struggling with how to direct the piece and had a hard time grappling with the language, finding the humor. I was of course very happy to get the email.

Hello,
I am part of a theatre company, Mostly Harmless inc, located in Delhi, India, and having come across the script [sic] decided to stage it in February next year. I am directing the play.
So far directing the play has been challenging. We've managed a good cast but I find that I'm still very confused with regards to the stage setting and its various possibilities.
I searched [sic] on google and your facebook page came up as a search result. I've looked over your facebook page and you guys look really good, and I was wondering if there was any way in which could actually watch some parts of the play online once it is staged, to sort of draw some inspiration with regards to the stage setting and also with regards to the interpretation of the humour in the play, particularly with regards to its verbal nuances.
I apologize if this seems random, rude or burdensome, but I'm really looking for any help I can get.
Gideon Mathson,
Mostly Harmless (New Delhi)

When I chose [sic] it was a very distinct choice. It is a weird play. It doesn't always make sense. It borders on a sitcom feel, it is mundane but funny. It is very language heavy. It reminds me of Dawson Creek. Why are these characters expressing themselves this way, can they use some slang for f's sake? Why is there no plot? Nothing happens.

The character's obsession with Mrs. Jorgenson barely passes as an actual plot. So much of it is left for interpretation. Did Frank kill Mrs. J? Does it matter really?As the cast and I muddled through the show we asked the same questions. I looked for reviews of the show, only to find that reviewers asked the same questions. What did the show mean? It didn't make sense.

It is funny, because everyone (including myself) who read the play really liked it. I myself loved it, but I couldn't express why. It broke conventions. It was good writing. It contained magical realism and themes of inadequacy. It moved. It left all the decisions up to the director, it was there to be interpreted. To me, it was an obvious choice.

So, what does the play mean? Well, I guess when I was directing it I decided what it meant for me. My favorite line in the play is when the Theo, Frank, and Babette discuss what game they should play. 'Can you cloak your animosity a little I just woke up'-my favorite. Gibson writes about me. A failure in all my glory. It is what I think about at night, why am I alone? Where is my career? When I write a blog why do I write so many questions?!

After directing [sic] I don't think I can go back. I want it weirder, I want it even harder to understand. I want the reviews so bad or so good. I want a visceral reaction that only comes from putting something onstage truly unique. I want to always be confused, and discover what is important to me through the process. That is the reason the Strand exists.

Theater Freebees

I was going to be a sociology major. I don't know why. At the time it sounded like a good idea. I got sucked into the theatre scene pretty quickly in college and declared my major with some hesitation. Am I going to be successful? Am I going to be able to support myself? I dunno. We'll see.

So far, so good. I've done some great work since I graduated in 2007, learned a whole lot, grew up a lot. My greatest learning experience came when I landed a position as a company stage manager at a theatre in Wichita, KS. Was I REALLY going to pick up and move to Kansas? Yeah. I really was. Things were fantastic at first. Loved my apartment. Loved the people I was working with. Was getting paid.

Then I stopped getting paid.

I was stranded in the middle of the country with no family, no income, working long hours and therefore unable to seek a second job to GET an income. I certainly won't go into the difficulties the company faced during that time. But it was hard. Very hard. I didn't know how to approach the producer about my problems, because they were problems that likely wouldn't be fixed...there was just no money. But I kept going, you know? I was doing theatre. When I was working, I was happy. But as soon as I left rehearsal, everything changed. I gradually started to resent theatre. I couldn't support myself. My mother couldn't pay all of her bills at home and mine in Wichita.

After Christmas I started applying for part time jobs. If I had to work 18 hours a day to pay my bills, then so be it. I got a job at the Super Target and was scheduled to start opening week of our next show. The show opened, audience seemed to enjoy it. Good times were had. Target Team Member by day, Stage Manager extraordinaire by night. Until I got "the call."

I guess everyone has to get one of those calls in their lives. That call when it feels like you're entire world is caving in and nobody can see it happening. The producer called and left me a voicemail. I checked it when I finished my shift at Target. "I'm sorry Danielle. I have to close the theatre." I guess part of me thought...."well, I wasn't getting paid anyway, so it's not really that much different." I had just done two months of work for free. Worked 18 hour days, all for nothing. I had been sitting on the Target parking lot when I got the message. I marched myself right back into the store, went to my team leader and asked him to take me on full time. And then I went home and cried. And wished that I had a gallon or three of ice cream to eat...but I had no money to buy the ice cream.

After that, I swore that I would NEVER do theatre again. Paid. Unpaid. I didn't care. I didn't want to be anywhere near a stage. I wanted to get a practical, secure job. I never, ever wanted to experience those feelings again.

Needless to say, I recovered from that feeling. It took me about a year, but now I'm back at it. I love theatre too much to let that nightmare change me. I'm happiest when I'm doing theatre - even when I work for free.

Family Ties

It's strange. After each show one goes through, you make a little family. And, as I was discussing this with an actor I had worked with previously, you have to let that family go each and every time. As you go through rehearsals, annoyances, show runs, errors, etc.; you create a bond with the people you spend an ungodly amount of hours with in a relatively short time frame. They become a family, with the love and hatred of family, because of one clear idea, you have to be around them. Like a real family, in a performance, everybody (for the most part) are people you have to learn to survive being around. Sometimes its easy, and, as many can attest to, sometimes its extremely difficult. I think that's why it is so hurtful when there are nights that few people show up. The entire cast and crew unite to give a jaw-dropping, spectacular performance for the people who honored us with their presence. But there is still the lingering feeling everyone has; that we aren't getting the respect for the time and work we all put in. And after a run, with the highs of a near full-house plus the lows of five seats filled one night, you let go. You say you'll stay in touch, but, especially for the freelance artist, that rarely happens. And you move on to a new family. Is that the theatre artists burden? Or the source of our strength? Intense, interpersonal connections that disappear before they can sizzle out? In no other art do give yourself entirely to someone else, someone you see everyday. Actors, designers, directors, stage-managers; everyday we give ourselves to the person stand next to us. That's why we're a family. And more quickly than it ever should be, we move on, just to give ourselves to someone new.