The other day I mentioned that I had two ideas for plays, both of which are experimental in nature.  I asked for your opinions, and you responded with some very good questions for me to think about.

I’ll start with a question from Dennis: Why now?

That’s a complicated question, but I’ll do my best to answer.  Firstly, I think they are interesting concepts that would be entertaining for me to watch.  Not sure about others, but I would certainly enjoy it, I think.  Second, as a rookie director, this would be a good experience in bringing the concepts to life.  The hard part would be making it entertaining and understandable to others, with the right amount of “Hey, watch this” and “Can you figure out the puzzle?” elements to it.

Unfortunately, like the Prof said, that might be something that I wouldn’t want to subject an audience to.  He suggested that I undertake the project on my own, but not subject an audience to the play if it’s just “noodling around” with techniques.

That’s understandable.  In fact, I agree completely.  What I’m not sure about, however, is whether or not these concepts are “noodling around” or actually strong ideas that would work.  Clearly, I’d have to write the scripts first, before I can make such a determination.

So let’s assume Professor Walters is right:  this is just “noodling around” and it’s not worth subjecting an audience to.  Now what?  How do I take this experiment to its logical conclusion?  Get actors together, direct them, put together a show and… what? Don’t show it to people?

I can definitely see the benefits to doing it in private, in terms of learning the techniques, but in terms of.. well.. it’s the principle of the thing.  A show is meant to be.. well, showed!

Am I missing something?

“Never been to Subway, what do I do?” a foreign accent once called out years ago when I worked at a local Subway as a “Sandwich Artist”. It was a Nigerian who was in the country for school. He had never been to a Subway before. There is quite an interesting story to go along with it (I used it for an audition piece, actually!) but that’s neither here nor there.

Point is, the other day I felt like him. The sad part was that I was in exactly the same industry I claim to profess! But rather than simple ignorance, it was lack of opportunity that had brought me to this spot. I called one of my good friends, William.

“Hey William,” I asked. “Those uh… director concepts. How do those work?” He chuckled and offered to help me out.

You see, I have never sat through a production meeting before. I have no idea what directors are supposed to say during those meetings! And considering that I’m interviewing at U/RTA and SETC in two months, I better figure out pretty quickly how to develop a concept and explain it to the designers. That’s where William comes in. William was the lead lighting designer at the theatre until he left for graduate school.
“You have anything written already?” he asked. I showed him the link. He skimmed through it. “More original on costumes, more specific on lights, more props notes, less specific on set — it looks like you want Carl to do it, and that’s fine, cause he’s the only set designer you’ve really seen.” I nodded.

“The thing is,” he said. “You don’t want to limit the designers’ needs. You want to give them direction, but let them figure stuff out. Give them crazy things to do so they’ll have to do research — designers love that shit — and let them come up with designs. Don’t be too specific, or you’ll be limiting what they can do and they don’t like that.”

I nodded again (which was stupid since this was a phone conversation).

“So,” I said. “I want lights that look like dusk in a–”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “No times. Just describe the feeling you want.” I tried again.

“Okay, so I want a dark forest with scattered rays of sunlight, a place that makes me feel mischievous and sneaky.”

“Better.” Now I saw what he meant.

The problem with developing concepts for me was that I had never had to do it. Yes, I’ve directed three shows before, but one was in Directing class and Dr. C never explained the whole concept idea. For both of the other shows, I was given less than 5 weeks to put the show together from start to finish — concept to strike — and I barely had time to squeeze in rehearsals, much less spend time with designers planning things out. Besides, minimalist shows with basic light plots aren’t that difficult for designers.

Things are different this time. I’m going to U/RTA and SETC in the Spring, and I’m preparing some concepts for my interviews. This is the first time I’ve had months to plan out something like this — and I’m using my time wisely, I think.

If you look to the right, I’ve posted concepts for Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage, William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun.

If you have any comments or suggestions, I’d be glad to hear them. Don’t get your feelings hurt if I don’t follow your suggestions, though — after all, this is supposed to be my take on things.