I was combing through a script I wrote a few years ago recently… and at the end of every scene, I had a lighting cue — whether it was dimming the lights or fading the lights.
I realize that I was writing “The End” at the end of each scene doing that.
Of course, I took most of the unnecessary cues out, but I found I didn’t need to change much else at the end of each scene. The scenes ended the way they needed to, but this time, I trusted that, whereas (I think subconsciously) I didn’t before.
Who knew lighting cues would shed so much light on my development?
–Sue
February 23rd, 2010
You’d never think it, but a single line can make a world of difference. It can clear something up, introduce something new, lay an issue to rest…
A good director and colleague pointed this out to me a few years ago, with a much earlier incarnation of “Another Place In Time”, and I find it even more true with a straight play, as I did when I did my final once over of “Business” today.
Without that line to tie things together, you might have some audience members scratching their heads… and once you lose someone, it’s hard to get them back on track, as is the nature of theatre — you can’t rewind. On the other hand, you also don’t want to spend an hour that takes a minute to explain… A single line can make sure you have everyone on the same page and keep the through-line of the story going.
Even after all these years, I’m still amazed at the power of words… especially just the right words at the right time. It really is like capturinglightening in a bottle.
–Sue
February 22nd, 2010
I had a long day today… a good day, a productive day, but a long one nonetheless. I needed a way to center myself, and I did it reading a magazine.
It was a wonderful reminder of the power of words. It’s different from watching TV or a movie, because you’re transported in a different way. Your mind is engaged in not only comprehending, but also in imagining and envisioning. By going outside yourself for that period of time when you’re reading, you actually come back to who you are because you’re engaging and stimulating parts of you that may not be engaged or stimulated the same way during the rest of your day/week/month or however often you read.
I know I might sound like a Luddite when I say this, but, you can’t get this feeling reading a computer screen or using a Kindle. Pick up a book or magazine, and you’ll see what I mean.
–Sue
February 19th, 2010
When I was in grad school, it took a lot to get through some days. Willing myself to write was excruciating some days… because I was scared of getting it “wrong”.
One day, a benevolent voice whispered in the back of my brain, “Write it down today, get it Right tomorrow.”
From that day forward, I had it as a constant reminder, as it became my screensaver, and stayed my screensaver for a few years.
It’s been many years since those days… I’ve written countless drafts of more than a few plays and songs. And yet, the fear of getting it “wrong” is still very real most days. (These days, I find it easier to push through that fear, and I look forward to writing most days now. It’s a challenge more than a chore.)
So this morning, after grappling with a lyric and getting nowhere yesterday, I wrote a really BAD lyric today. I actually laughed out loud after I had it down on paper and tried to convince my sister it was actually a good lyric. She laughed too, once I admitted that it sounded funny.
That laugh set me free to find the next lyric, which is the working lyric for now. Not sure if it’s “it”, but it’s no longer laughable.
The best part, I don’t have to keep carrying around the burden of creating that “perfect” lyric because I already wrote a crappy one, had a good laugh, and moved on.
Just a reminder of why they call writing a “craft”… it takes a lot of time to shape.
–Sue
February 18th, 2010
We’re at a point now with the finale of “Another Place In Time” where we’re literally a few precious words, a few short bars away from the finish line.
I’ve figured out what I want to say, but I haven’t figured out just how I’m going to say it. My biggest fear, “a world of cheese” as hubby put it. Velveeta spewing from the stage just isn’t gonna cut it.
Hopes and dreams have been done before… but what else is there in life? Stocks and bonds? Not so much…
It will hit me when I let it go…
–Sue
February 17th, 2010
I had a math tutor in high school. He was a sweet older man; I think his name was Mr. Clifford (like the big red dog).
His main help was pointing out something I already kinda knew: I tend to skip steps.
I have such a clear picture of where I want to be that I end up skipping steps along the way to get to the finish line.
Unfortunately, I sometimes do that with my writing as well. Most of today was spent going back over those steps I glossed over.
The difference between art and math is that in art, there’s no “right” answer at the end… So I’m left having to figure it out along the way… but the journey is what makes it worth while.
–Sue
February 16th, 2010
This Valentine’s Day I did what I love, with the man I love, we took in a show.
It was a family musical, and the audience was varied — many sitting on booster seats. The set and story were simple, and the ultimate message sweet, and true.
Amongst seat shifting and whispers, the one song that summed up the entire protagonist’s arc, and transcended every other song in the show, did not garner the attention it should.
It wasn’t just an issue of timing… It was also an issue of finding that sweet spot, and meeting your audience where they are. The last song that brought tears to my eyes and the eyes of some of the parents and grandparents went right over the heads of at least half the audience.
It’s definitely got us thinking about future projects, and how to make sure everyone in the audience can “get it” on some level.
–Sue
February 15th, 2010
Valentine’s Day might seem commercialized, and it may well be. But I’m taking the opportunity to celebrate the many kindnesses shown to me by those in my life, personally and professionally. You’ve all, in your own special ways, helped me become the woman I am. Thanks for being you, and helping me be me.
Sending love to those in my ever growing circle,
–Sue
February 12th, 2010
In yesterday’s post, I mentioned how masterfully David Cromer directed Our Town. (And if you can see it, you’ll be glad you did.)
The seating is intimate, and in the round (almost like it was in Elizabethan times) surrounding the “stage”. (See the configuration in person, you’ll understand why I put “stage” in quotes.)
It was sold out when we went, every seat filled… And after one of the intermissions (there are two), a few patrons left. Their absence was easily noticeable…
If they’d only stayed, the payoff of the last five minutes are what make the entire show… and I thought it was a shame that they missed out.
But it set me wondering… How long is too long for the big audience “payoff” in a piece? In this age of short attention spans, how long are audience members willing to wait?
I’m sure the easy answer is that it varies, but there must be some threshold. What do you think? I’d love to hear your opinions…
–Sue
February 11th, 2010
I know it sounds funny, a playwright not ever having read or seen a version of “Our Town.” It is one of the seminal American plays.
But, though I knew I “should” read/see it… I wasn’t really interested. I’d seen it done over and over again in popular culture that it almost felt like I’d heard it and seen it all before.
And then I started hearing about this amazing production at the Barrow Street Theatre, and I knew it was a production people would be talking about 50 years from now, and I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t see it.
The lucky woman I am, hubby took me as part of my birthday gift a few weeks ago. (Which made Emily’s revisiting her 12th birthday that must more resonant.) We met the gifted actress, Jennifer Grace, who played a multifaceted Emily with so much depth after the show — and she was even sweet enough to take a photo with me, to preserve the moment.
After the show, I thought about all the moments that pass each day without so much as a blink of an eye or acknowledgment… which is Wilder’s point exactly. What David Cromer’s direction and Michele Spadaro’s set design did with this production to make it so special was to remind us that even the most mundane moments are ones we can celebrate with all of our senses to really appreciate our short time here.
I won’t give much away, but I will give a bit of advice: Don’t go hungry, because the last few moments of the play might make your stomach growl.
This production has been extended until March 14th, 2010… (and this has already been extended a few times)… So before time runs out — GO SEE THIS SHOW!!! It is truly a gift.
–Sue
February 10th, 2010
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