New Works, New Life

A solid two months have passed since the clock chimed in the New Year, and one persistent theme has emerged thus far in the way of my musical theatre life:  new works.  Thus far in 2015, I have…

…finished writing a new work.

…auditioned for a new work.

…performed in a staged reading of a new work.

The truth is that I’ve found religion in the new works process.  Though I never claimed to be on the cutting edge of new musicals, I felt ahead of the curve.  I had a bootlegged CD—yes, a CD—of The Last Five Years before most had heard of it.  I knew someone who worked on The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee before it moved to Broadway.  I enjoyed seeing new musicals.  I was hip, right?

My older, wiser self would tell my younger, more naïve self, “Nice try.”  I’ve come to realize that what my younger, more naïve self was actually enjoying were new ‘hit’ musicals.  Even the freshest, newest work that I could have hoped to see was already years, if not decades, old by the time my butt made it into the seat.  When I thought I had found a jewel of a show, I really was seeing only the most polished version of that stone.  That the work probably started out as a crude rock escaped my awareness as did any thought of the cutting, faceting, and grading of it.

My younger, more naïve self really had no concept of how shows developed.  I mean, I knew musicals had composers, lyricists, and book writers.  I knew there was source material out there—sometimes.  I knew there were things called ‘previews’ and ‘out-of-town tryouts’ where creators could change their mind about many facets of a show before officially opening it.  But really my knowledge was the theatrical equivalent of a four-year-old asking “Where do babies come from?”

It’s only been in the last fourteen months that I’ve been learning the answer.  When Orin and I decided we should write a musical together, we more or less walked upstream until we arrived at the headwaters of that mystical river known as ‘New Works.’  There’s not much up there.  It turns out most people who know what they’re doing are already in the river somewhere, paddling downstream towards a clearer destination than what we had.  We waded—and waited—up there in the headwaters for a couple of months.  I remember in our earliest meetings at Shaw Coffee, Orin and I just looked at each other.  The territory felt remarkably uncharted.

But we gradually started piecing together a boat for ourselves, and we launched our ship downstream.  Fourteen months of collaboration later, we are proud of our story of Esther, and I am anxious to share more about the process of creating Just Pretend as we draw closer to its premiere on June 27.

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All the cool kids of St. Louis theatre and/or liturgy realms gathered for a reading of ‘Just Pretend’ on Jan. 10, 2015 at St. Margaret of Scotland in St. Louis.

Aside from that, I had the supreme pleasure of auditioning for a new work recently for some real stars of the musical theatre world right now.  I hesitate saying too much right now least I jinx it.  Truly, I am not holding my breath that I will be cast in the show, but that doesn’t stop me from praying for it daily.  The real takeaway for me was being able to read a script and score from some highly respected creators and see that it was a) not perfect and b) not finished.  It seems like everyone has to go back to the headwaters and work downstream.  What a relief.

The last project I alluded to just wrapped up yesterday.  Our MFA class at San Diego State was honored with the opportunity to work with Tony Award-winning actor and La Jolla Playhouse Artist-in-Residence BD Wong to perform a reading of his new musical Mr. Doctor, which he wrote with Wayne Barker.

The piece tells a beautiful story, and the themes it weaves using the play within a play (within a play) are intellectually and emotionally rich.  Theoretically, Mr. Doctor is at the same stage of development as Just Pretend, but let’s face it:  BD and Wayne know how to paddle a canoe better in these waters than Orin and me.  I have much to share from the experience, and I am excited to do so in the weeks ahead with this new series I’m calling “New Works, New Life.”

Next week, however, I’ll be revisiting the MFA process again with “Something’s Coming—Part 7” as we will be passing the one-year mark of an audition that literally changed my life.  Thanks for reading, friends.

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The SDSU MFA Musical Theatre class performed ‘Mr. Doctor’ in the Experimental Theatre along with La Jolla Playhouse Artist-in-Residence BD Wong on Feb. 27-28, 2015.

Something’s Coming: Part 2

Here’s the second installment of a series of blog posts from the journal I kept discerning grad school.  When I was going through this process, I talked to my trusted friends and consulted a number of blogs of complete strangers just to gather as much information as possible.  Are YOU thinking about a MFA in acting?  Go to my Connect page and drop me a comment.  I would love to talk to you.  You can also follow this blog from that page.

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Oct. 2, 2013

My friend Joy has been sitting on my shoulder for a year now.  After West Side Story one night, she pulled me aside and–completely out of the blue–said, “You need to go get your MFA in acting.”  It was a sincere comment, and I took it to heart almost immediately.  Aside from being a trusted friend, I respect her and her work immensely.  I didn’t take it lightly that she was giving me unsolicited advice and that she was telling me something I had been pondering for a while now.  But could I do it?

This sounds a bit melodramatic, but that’s because it’s important to me to weigh my options and seek the opinions of those who I trust.  I need as much help as possible to process all of this.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to say what I truly want, but I am realizing that an MFA is what I want.  All the work I need to make that happen and the leap of faith that I will need to leave my current life is quite scary.

I am going to pursue this.

I had a great talk with Joy at last night’s Drowsy Chaperone rehearsal.  I basically spilled my guts.  I told her that I think it’s time, and that all arrows seem to be pointing towards this big life change.  She responded:  “I can tell!”

Comment from my 2014 self:  Even though this was a short journal entry, it held three important ideas.  First of all, I actually made a decision and then stated what I wanted.  I didn’t know how it was going to happen, but it was worthwhile for me to state that I wanted something in my life to be different.  It’s an important step to take if you actually want something in your life to be different.  Secondly, I was already using words like “trust” and “faith.”  Things have a way of working out for the best.  Take heart in that.  Lastly, talk to someone.  Talk to anyone.  Maybe what you want isn’t so earth-shattering.  And maybe people are willing to help you achieve it.

Something’s Coming:  Part 1

The first rule about Manifesto Fight Club…

Don’t talk about Manifesto Fight Club

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Yes, this really was the heading to my notes today from Research & Bibliography.  As an exercise in passionate thinking, our writing professor–DJ–fashioned a study of famous manifestos for us to read last week, and this week we were to return with a manifesto of our own in hand.  At first glance, it seemed like the assignment was really an invitation and railpass for the crazy train, but I would say–without exception–people were fired up to present their manifestos today for the class.  My topic was one of intense passion for me:  fonts.  What follows is a tirade on Comic Sans.

As we learned in our study, manifestos have a certain flair for formatting.  Since WordPress can’t replicate that easily, feel free to view the original document here.  Below is a little taste.

Because fonts matter. Fonts are the well from which you dip the written word.

Give me fonts drawn from a spring-fed pool ladled with a hollowed gourd;

Give me fonts brewed with coffee and served with cream in a ceramic mug;

Give me fonts distilled like smoky scotch poured in a cut-glass lowball.

These fonts enrich me.

Comics Sans is acid rain. Comic Sans is Sweet ‘n’ Low. Comics Sans is an appletini.

Snacks--and whose responsibility it is to bring them--occupies a full page in the syllabus for THEA 600.  The first week, Shane started the trend with bringing juice boxes.  I dutifully carried out the following with Jumex.  Liv, thanks for the Minute Maid this week.

Snacks–and whose responsibility it is to bring them–occupies a full page in the syllabus for THEA 600. The first week, Shane started the trend of bringing juice boxes to accompany the munchies. I dutifully carried out the following with Jumex. Liv, thanks for the Minute Maid this week.

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