Copyright laws were enacted by our founding fathers to protect artists from others using their work without their permission. It’s a law designed to protect “the trees” (artists). I am a producer and director who will follow the law on copyright as I have done in my 21 years in this business.   So if you are a swindler producer who wants to hire me – don’t bother. And if you do, you might just hear me say, “I am the Lorax! And I speak for the playwrights!” You’ll loathe me.

A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE
Lyceum Theatre

An import from London's Young Vic Company, director Ivo Van Hove's conceptual version of Arthur Miller's 1955 play emphasized the Greek tragic elements while simultaneously stripping the play bare of any realistic production elements.  These decisions made us focus on the inescapable fate awaiting these characters and the passionate ferocity of the performances.  I enjoyed and admired this production.

When entering the Lyceum, a huge dark gray metal cube obscures most of the stage.  About 200 audience members are seated on the bleachers that line the cube stages right and left, which meant the actors played in a thrust. The cube floats about 6 inches above a plexiglass frame that defines the acting space as a boxing ring.  As the play begins, two longshoremen are cleaning up after work and the cube rises ever so slowly to reveal the boxing ring and the sole opening in the upstage wall of dark gray.  Two steps lead into the ring.  It screams Greek Theatre.  Actors wore simple garments and all were barefoot.

Greek tragedy is what follows.  Almost two intermissionless hours fly by as the play unfolds.   Much of the action is underscored with requiem-like music, an ebb and flow of a few tones in a minor key, or by sole drum beats or wood blocks.

At the end of the play, the characters struggle in a rugby scrum-like pose as blood pours down on them, revealing, when they part, the body of Eddie Carbone, the tragic hero of the play.

Marvelous acting all around:  Mark Strong as Eddie won the Olivier as Best Actor last year.   Nicola Walker (she plays Derick Jacobi's daughter on LAST TRIP TO HALIFAX) as Bea matched him step for step.  Russell Tovey, one of my favorite young British actors played Rodolofo, with great sensitivity and charm.  For you DOWNTON ABBEY fans out there, the actor who played the farmer who agreed to raise Edith's baby was in the cast too!

Playing in a thrust space created in a Broadway Theatre built over 100 years ago presents a vocal challenge for the cast.  I am sad to report that they were not successful for a significant amount of time.  I was on the 3rd row from the stage, and when any actor sat on the plexiglass rim's downstage steel bench and turned their back on 99% of the audience, 99% of the audience didn't hear the line.  At the price of Broadway tickets, audibility is the least we should expect.

Belgian director Van Hove is currently rehearsing Miller's THE CRUCIBLE which opens at the Walter Kerr in a few months.  Based on A VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE, it's on my to see list.

THE KING AND I
Vivian Beaumont Theatre at Lincoln Center

Lavish.  Truthful.  Timely.  Heartfelt.  Stupendous.  These words summarize this wonderful production of the Rodgers and Hammerstein classic.  Brilliantly directed by Bartlett Sher, who really digs deep into classic works of the American Musical Theatre (his SOUTH PACIFIC was wonderful), and discovers the subtext, this near perfect production was a tremendous afternoon in the theatre.

When entering the Beaumont, the vast thrust stage is open revealing a 29 piece orchestra in the pit.  A large burnished gold and copper traveler masks the proscenium, and a huge white silk awning covers the thrust.  The sides of the proscenium were fronted with 30 feet tall black and gold "batik" hangings.  When the orchestra struck up the overture, the white awning fell, and as the play began, the burnished traveler moved from stage right to left, revealing a huge steam ship coming downstage. As the cover for the orchestra slid into place, the ship's prow was towering over the first few rows of the audience.

The rest of the sets were flying and gliding silk square columns, and simple set pieces which provided flow and forward thrust for the action.  The costumes were astonishing: all the Siamese in reds, purples, and gold with Mrs. Anna in pale grays, whites, blues, and lilac.  At the end of the play, the Siamese were in white and Mrs. Anna was in a deep purple/maroon. Costumes by Cathrine Zuber.  Sets by Michael Yeargan.

Outstanding, deeply subtextual performances from Kelli O'Hara, Ruthie Ann Miles,  Ashley Park, and Hoon Lee as Mrs. Anna, Lady Thiang, Tuptim, and the King, respectively.  What a pleasure to hear  their voices soaring over the orchestra singing those glorious lyrics and melodies.  My one criticism is that the very experienced young actor playing Mrs. Anna's son, needed to project!  I was 10 feet away and had trouble hearing him.  O'Hara and Miles won Tonys.  Hoon Lee joined the cast in September.  Based on hearsay, critics have returned to the production, which opened in April, and have praised Mr. Lee highly.   I saw Yul Brynner as the King about 30 years ago.  Admittedly, he was near the end of his life, but for sex appeal, layers of character, inner conflict, wit, and charisma, Mr. Lee wins hands down in my book.

One line brought a palpable response from the audience.  The King, fearing European colonialism, said, "Maybe I  should build a wall around Siam!"   As I often think, "Everything old is new again."

Bartlett Sher's production of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF opened a few weeks ago.  It's on my Broadway Ballyhoo list.

KING CHARLES III: A Future History Play
The Music Box Theatre

What a magnificent evening in the theatre! Last year's Olivier Award Best Play imported from London with cast intact.  What a pleasure to hear great language greatly spoken by actors without mics!  I'm writing this 24 hours after I saw the play; I've been thinking about it all day.

Set in the not too distant future, the play begins with the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II.  Immediately upon ascension Charles is confronted with a bill limiting the power of the press to intrude in the private lives of people.  Charles, ironically, given the way the press has intruded on his life, refuses to sign the passed bill and a constitutional crisis results.

Written mostly in blank verse, the Shakespearean overtones are hard to miss.  Charles is Hamlet and Richard II, The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are the Macbeths, Prince Harry is Prince Hal, the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition are various scheming Tudor courtiers, and Camilla is the nurturing mother figure of all time.  We even have the Shakespearean Ghost:  Diana drifts through the action dispensing predictions and haunting Charles.

Brilliantly directed by Rupert Goold, the action unfolds against a weathered red brick circular facade with a banner of misty faces about 1/4 way down the facade.  A three tiered, shallow tread red carpeted platform completed the set.
All costumes in black, save the red and blue of three uniforms in Act Two.  Camilla's hat and costume made her look really dumpy.

Tremendous acting, with Tim Piggott-Smith taking top honors.  Although he doesn't physical resemble Prince Charles, the actors playing Kate, William, and Harry all bear a striking resemblance to their counterparts.

I loved this production.

**If you enjoyed this review, check back here for more this month as we continue to post reviews from the current 2016 shows now running on Broadway!

The entertainment industry has exploded in recent years into a vast market that includes everything from reality TV, blockbuster films, social media platforms, and yes, even politics and news media outlets. But audiences continue to support and attend live theatre, a tried and true tradition in American entertainment. Dr. Patrick Farmer, former Professor of Theatre, director, and theatre guru shares his reviews of some of Broadway's most recent shows. Thank you Dr. farmer for your contribution to the Theatre Colloquium! Reviewed here are two shows, "Something Rotten" now playing at the St. James Theatre on West 44th in New York City, and "School of Rock" now playing at the Winter Garden Theatre on Broadway.

SOMETHING ROTTEN

A highly entertaining evening in the theatre full of puns, shtick, dance, song and hilarity. London 1590. Playwrights Nick and Nigel Bottom can't get a play produced because of theatre sensation Will Shakespeare, who plagiarizes and purloins plots and lines. Theatre jokes, history jokes, musical theatre references, etc. Nick pays a soothsayer to predict theatre history and writes the first ever musical to compete with cock of the walk Mick Jagger-like Shakespeare. Christian Borle deserved his Tony for Shakespeare. Fun, fun, fun. The Act Two number "The Black Death" is one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

SCHOOL OF ROCK

I had a great time at this musical adaptation of the Jack Black film, with music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, lyrics by Glen Slater, and book by Julian Fellowes (producer and writer of Downton Abbey). I've never seen the film; it was Lloyd Webber and Fellowes' involvement that attracted me.

Featuring a star making turn by Alex Brightman and the most amazingly talented kids I've ever seen anywhere, the production had only one flaw, as far as I'm concerned: most of the lyrics to the rock songs were unintelligible because the music was so loud. The sound balance was right for the non-rock numbers, but something was way off on the rock numbers.

But back to the kids; ages 9 to 12, they sing, they dance, and four of them actually play their own instruments: drums, keyboard, electric guitar, and electric bass. The bass was longer than the girl playing it was tall. The riffs they perform are amazing. Another girl stopped the show cold when her character, who never spoke, broke into an a capella AMAZING GRACE, to prove she had a voice.

Sierra Bogess as the uptight school principal showed off her voice with some Mozart performed with a rock beat.

Mr. Brightman's performance was 200% high energy. I don't know how he does it 8 times a week. His relationship with the kids is wonderful; I could feel the mutual love and respect flood across the footlights. I predict an easy Tony nomination for him.

Glad I saw this.

** Check back for more Broadway reviews this month on the Theatre Colloquium. And as always...we welcome your comments and discussion.

     The chance to work on Eugene O’Neill’s The Hairy Ape was irresistible. And to work on it in America with an American director was a serendipitous conflation of opportunity meets availability.  It was a risk for the director Clayton Guiltner to cast me in the role of Aunt because I am the anthesis of the playwrights’ vividly specific notes about the character: ‘…aunt is a pompous and proud – and fat – old lady. She is the type even to the point of a double chin and lorgnettes….inert and disharmonious…..like a gray lump of dough touched up with rouge….’. Yet he took that risk and in doing so gave me a ‘gift’ role in an incredible play working on a terrific theatre project with GrexGroupLA.

Photo:  Actor Jane Edwina Seymour rehearses as the Aunt, along with Kelsey Carthew (right) as Mildred, and Shafer Bourne (center) as First Officer.  Los Angeles, CA. 

     Upon reading the play (and I’ve alluded to it above) it is impossible not to notice how beautifully detailed and specific O’Neill’s writing is. And coupled with his staging vision, scene structure and character profiles it becomes obvious why he is one of America’s most distinguished and lauded playwrights.  His language reminds me of musical notations because it not only conveys relationship, meaning and intention, but defines at every turn of page, the sound of the play and its inextricable relationship to its aesthetic. It is worth noting here that he was among the first to write dialogue in American vernacular, bringing formal literary attention to the burgeoning immigrant populous many of whom were ambitious upwardly mobile ‘new Americans’ who were simultaneously embraced and reviled by the established cultural hegemony of the day.
     In The Hairy Ape, a cacophony of dialectical language abounds straight away. From the semi-literate fire men, hailing from the four corners of the civilised world, who populated the stokehole; to the educated voices of the indolent wealthy on the promenade deck – they all sailed on those 1920’s luxury transatlantic liners steaming between New York and London, and back again.  And it is this ‘life on the high seas’ that is artfully subverted by O’Neill into a revelation about the sociology of the day, echoing the modern dilemma of personal alienation and cultural displacement for those on the fringes of an increasingly dehumanising society rushing to embrace industrialisation and wealth creation and in doing so, leaving many by the wayside.  Onto the promenade deck of this play strolls the Aunt, an unmarried wealthy W.A.S.P’ish individual who’s Scottish ancestors escaped the poverty of Lanarkshire in the 1800’s, immigrating to America with nothing and got rich making steel. She’s a wonderful monster who I have a good deal of empathy for not least because she’s spent a vacuous existence ‘keeping up appearances’ as a member of the (now) wealthy Douglas clan. As Aunt says to her pretentious spoilt niece that she (to both their chagrin) has to chaperone to England:
"Be as artificial as you are, I advise. There’s a sort of sincerity in that, you know."  Since I love O’Neill’s notes about Aunt and even though I don’t ‘fit the brief’, I still wanted to use them. So rather than taking them literally, I treated them as metaphors for my inner disposition and life as Aunt Harriett (my name for her). This immediately put me in alignment with those notes and empowered me to fashion Harriett after my own visage. Additionally, ‘my niece Mildred’ helped me when she called me:  “…a cold pork pudding against a background of linoleum tablecloth…” – I find what other characters say about me so very illuminating and most importantly, feeds the relationships on stage- with my niece primarily, and the second engineer.  Yet there is also a life happening off-stage too. I love to extend the scene work beyond the stage as it fuels the life I bring on with me, and also when I leave the stage - the life I’m going forward into. In this way I’m able to live the life of my Harriett not just in a scene, but in the story of the play.  And the story O’Neill tells cuts across the historical breadth of early 20th century American history and for an actor from another time zone and century research into the playwright’s world was essential for grasping the mindset of the play.

Photo:  Jane Edwina Seymour (right foreground) in rehearsal as Woman in a street scene.  Other actors pictured here: Kelsey Carthew, Jean Camille, Shafer Bourne, Guilherme Scarabelot, and Gary Shaw.  Los Angeles, CA.

     Generally, I thoroughly research projects I’m working on because this depth of preparation (often compulsive) lends authenticity to my work, fires my imagination and helps me clarify references I don’t understand. And in The Hairy Ape, there were many references I needed to clarify. I also enjoy this part of the work.  And enjoyment of the Aunt role and the project as a whole was not limited to my homework. The rehearsal process was exciting and dynamic and the cast was hard-working, flexible and talented. Clayton worked intensely with us, and had a vision that unfolded with a healthy mixture of assuredness and exploration: he remained open to whether his staging ideas, theatrical techniques and acting notes would work on the floor – an entirely appropriate attitude for a staged reading of a text which is complex and theatrically challenging as The Hairy Ape most assuredly is.

     Eugene O’Neill is a magnificent playwright and it’s been a joy working on this project, with my fellow cast members, director Clayton Guiltner and those associated with GrexGroupLA.

Jane Edwina Seymour is a Los Angeles based actor holding a Master of Arts in Theatre and Film from University of New South Wales, Australia, Classical Acting Certificate from British American Drama Academy, UK and is a masterclass member at Howard Fine Studio in Los Angeles and Australia.  

For more photos, cast bios, and information on The Hairy Ape project, please visit our Past Work page.

http://blog.kanjy.co/spotlight/spotlight-writers-part-2/

http://blog.kanjy.co/spotlight/spotlight-writers-part-1/

Mr. Guiltner: Thank you for sharing your play with our U.S. audiences, and for contributing such a compelling story to the world of theatre. We often hear that good playwrights should “write what they know.” So, where did you draw inspiration for writing these characters and this story?

Nick Rongjun Yu: Behind the Lie is my earlier work, and during that time, I was interested in the relationships between people in the big city. All kinds of relationships bring lots of stories to me, especially the situation of people in modern society. I want to tear off the skin of people's lives and show the real inside. The people in the big city inspired me to write that play. I sat in the subway and watched the faces of people through the windows; they were strange, lonely and no-expression, they were all around me in my life, and I wanted to know what happened to them. These characters were always in my mind, so I did think I would write a play about them. I just needed the chance and a story.

Mr. Guiltner: It seems that Behind the Lie could be categorized as "police drama," but the human side of the “Policeman” character is especially well developed throughout the play. Who did you intend this play to be about -- in other words, is it the Policeman's story or the Doctor's story which is being told?

Nick Rongjun Yu: It is a play about two men, but all they talk about is women. Both the policeman's story and the doctor's story are being told through their connection, which is the wife of doctor, and her story is the central one.

Mr. Guiltner: The themes of this story seem universal. The characters and scenario play well for American audiences as well as Chinese audiences. Can you talk about your approach to writing the play for a larger, more universal audience? How did the translation contribute to the universality of the play?

Nick Rongjun Yu: It is a universal subject. At the beginning, I wrote this story as if it happened in China, but the company thought maybe the subject of policemen was too sensitive here in China, so I changed the story and made it happen in Latin America.

Mr. Guiltner: A question I recently asked Robert Woods, the director of our U.S. premiere of the play, is a question I would like to ask of you as playwright: What do you hope the audience will leave with after seeing a production of this play?

Nick Rongjun Yu: How will they see inside of themselves in their normal or boring lives, especially in a big city, and how can we find the hope to make a good situation for our lives when everything becomes "the usual."

Mr. Guiltner: Finally, do you find that any of your intentions have been lost, or enhanced through the translating of your play.

Nick Rongjun Yu: Claire knows me very well, she knows China and Chinese very well, and we talked a lot when she translated this play, so I do think she did not lose anything. I am also happy that Robert directed this play cause he also lived in China for some time, and that is helpful.

Above:  Behind the Lie, directed by Robert Woods.  Actor Cecil Burroughs (L) and Dwayne Barnes (R) at the Hudson Guild Theatre in Hollywood, California.

Mr. Guiltner: As directors and producers of theatre, we have the task of choosing good plays that will be artistically challenging as well as financially sustainable. Of all the plays you could have chosen to direct, what attracts you to Behind the Lie?

Mr. Woods: Three things attracted me to Behind the Lie for my first directing project in Los Angeles: it is only two characters, so it can be done in a smaller theatre; it has an extremely simple set, basically just a table, three chairs, and a window, so it doesn't strain my limited scene design capability; and perhaps most importantly, it is the U.S. premiere of a fascinating play by one of China's leading playwrights, and I think his work needs to be seen by American audiences because his themes, characters, and situations are universal.

Mr. Guiltner: This play is somewhat of a suspense story for the audience, as the playwright reveals bits of information along the why. How do you, as the director, keep the ending of the play from being figured out by the audience too early?

Mr. Woods: I think the first job for any director is simply to tell the story. This play is like an onion, and as each layer is peeled away, we get closer and closer to its core, its heart. My job as director is to make sure the layers are only peeled one at a time. Most of the time, that just means keeping the actors focused on the moments they are playing at that timeand not letting them anticipate moments they will play later. By keeping the actors "in the present moment," the audience gets to enjoy the whole ride, without knowing what the outcome will be, but realizing at the end of the play that the outcome was inevitable from the opening moments.

Above:  Director, Robert Woods (R), collaborates with actor Dwayne Barnes (L) in rehearsal for Behind the Lie. 

Mr. Guiltner: Talk to us about your process. How have you approached this process, and what challenges and triumphs have you and the cast experienced along the way?

Mr. Woods: My process in directing a play is pretty fixed. First, I read the play many times. I don't take any notes for the first three or four reads, but after that I begin to take detailed notes about the characters, the discoveries they make, the journeys they go through, and the relationships among them. I apply a system of script analysis which was developed by Richard Hornby, and through that, I find the play's theme, which also reveals for me how each character serves the theme. I do all the blocking on paper before the first rehearsal, although in actual rehearsals that blocking is often revised and modified as I collaborate with the actors. My rehearsal schedule usually follows a definite pattern: read-through the first rehearsal (and with this play, also the second rehearsal because the text is so dense with hidden meaning), then several rehearsals for blocking of the movement, then I work each scene in great detail, finding the important moments between the characters, working the rising and falling rhythms and energies, and digging out all the hidden complexities. Finally, we get to rehearsals where we simply run the play and I give notes. By the time we get to dress rehearsals, the actors are usually very ready to go. At least, that's the plan!

Mr. Guiltner: You have directed a lot of academic theatre, college students during your career. Can you tell our readers how directing professional working actors has been different than directing acting students?

Mr. Woods: The biggest difference I have noticed in directing professional actors, versus students, is in the questions they ask. Student actors are still learning, so they tend to listen more to me as the director and go along with whatever I say, without too much argument. Professional actors ask lots of questions, and very often their interpretation differs from mine. During the rehearsals for Behind the Lie, I have had some vigorous discussions with the actors. Sometimes my viewpoint prevails, sometimes theirs does, but always we discover together things about the play that we had not realized before. I find rehearsals exciting for this reason -- because it is a process of discovery and collaboration with fellow artists, and the sum truly is always greater than the parts.

Above:  Director, Cast, Crew, and Friends on opening night of Behind the Lie at The Hudson Guild Theatre in Hollywood.  

Mr. Guiltner: This question may reveal too much in a pre-show interview...but what are you hoping the audience will walk away from the theatre saying or feeling? Are there any specific approaches in directing you have taken that you think will encourage that reaction?

Mr. Woods: I hope the audience's takeaway from Behind the Lie is a realization that while we all have our demons, we also all share many things in common. We are all human. Love, anger, loneliness, guilt, desperation, regret -- these emotions are felt by everyone. It is how we deal with those emotions that is important, along with how we deal with each other. I hope the audience sees that we all have a choice in our increasingly busy, segmented, electronic world: we can hide behind our facades, hide behind our lies and coldly use each other, or we can break down our barriers and take the chance to make real connections with each other.

Closing Remarks: Thank you Robert for your fine work on this production, and for sharing with our readers about your process. We look forward to future Los Angeles productions!  For more information on the production, or to purchase tickets, click here.

Mr. Guiltner: It would seem that the translation between two distinct languages would require a mutual understanding of the economic, social, historical, cultural, and political environments of both cultures. Give us a brief background of your life experience that has prepared you to so successfully translate Behind The Lie.

Dr. Conceison: I began studying Chinese language in high school, and first lived in China as a college student, spending a semester at Beida (Peking University). While in Shanghai for a year and a half doing research for my master's thesis at Harvard, I began living in the theatre community there. It was when playwrights and directors asked me to help make their work available in English that I first became a translator. One of the first plays I translated was Pierre Bourgeade's "Passport" in order to provide oral simultaneous translation at performances for foreign audience members who did not understand Chinese. From the outset, I was always translating language for actors to speak, not for readers to read, and this is the most important aspect of translating plays. Having to actually "perform" the language aloud during a performance, of course, made me consider how the language works for actors even more than usual. In the case of "Passport" it was necessary to translate from two languages, because I was translating the Chinese production script that had already been translated fromthe original play in French. My English translation had to match the Chinese performance, but it was also important that this English translation of the play be as faithful as possible to the French playwright's original work.Adding another layer, the play is set in pre-communist Russia--similar to Behind the Lie, there are only two characters in a lengthy confrontation with an apparently clear hierarchy, until layers of their actual relationship are revealed.

A deep understanding of the history, politics, and culture of the society from which the play and playwright originate is important along with knowing the language, especially in the case of China. Many of the plays I translate for contemporary mainland playwrights have allusions to timely issues, or language with colloquial meanings or intertextual references. Behind the Lie is a bit more universal in its focus on the psychology of two characters during an interrogation, so maintaining the sharp distinction between the two characters from the original script is important.

Above:  Actors Cecil Burroughs and Dwayne Barnes rehearse Behind The Lie under the direction of Robert Woods for the Grex Group Theatre's Hollywood premiere. 

Mr. Guiltner:  Why was Behind The Lie chosen to be translated into English?

Dr. Conceison:  The playwright, Yu Rongjun (Nick Yu), was awarded an Asian Cultural Council fellowship in 2006 to visit theaters in the US. I was commissioned by ACC to translate one of Nick's plays so that when he traveled around the country meeting theatre professionals, they would be able to read an example of one of his plays (and stage readings from it if desired). I chose Behind the Lie because it has a small cast and simple set, is accessible in content across cultures, and shows Nick's skills as a playwright in terms of character and dramatic structure (though it reveals less of his propensity for experimentation). I directed the first staged reading of the play in the fall of 2006 at Tufts University.

Mr. Guiltner:  What are the biggest challenges in translating a story like Behind The Lie from Chinese into English?

Dr. Conceison:  The play is driven by dialogue, with far less physical movement and visual elements than most of Nick's other works, so the language must carry the play. The words must be fluid and natural enough to draw the audience into the minds of the characters and build a kind of suspense that makes the audience anticipate each character's next line. In that sense, it seems like a realist play attempting Aristotelian identification. But the play is also about a more abstract issue of isolation that is both physical and psychological in today's mega-cities like Shanghai, so the language has a kind of crafted and poetic quality that is not natural everyday speech(this presents a challenge to the actors as well as the translator). The language has to work on both levels: the audience must be drawn in to the conflict between the two characters while also digesting their more lofty speeches on a reflective level. And in Behind the Lie, subtext is crucial and that must come across in translation for both the actors and the audience.

Mr. Guiltner:  One often wonders how much finesse and influence a translator has on the play. As you look at your work on Behind The Lie, do you find parts of your own voice in the English version?

Dr. Conceison:  When I translate a play, I try to be true to the characters and to the playwright, so on the "fidelity vs. freedom" spectrum that translators often consider, I am a relatively "faithful" translator. Since I am working with living playwrights whose plays are still being staged (in their originals and in translation), I want the English language versions of their plays to represent the work they are writing in Chinese. On the other hand, having access to the living playwright means I can collaborate with him/her, ask questions regarding moments of the play that need adjustment for a foreign audience, or explain choices I am making as translator that might differ from the original and secure approval for such changes if the playwright agrees that it serves the play. Also, when I direct a play I translate, my productions look very different from previous productions of the play due to my experimental process and style as a director, which shows the range of interpretations a play can have even when the script is translated "faithfully." I would say my "voice" comes out more as a director than as a translator, but one trait I do have as a translator is choosing the "right" word based on sound combinations and language rhythm (and the aforementioned speakability of the text for actors), not merely accuracy in meaning.

Closing Comments:  Thank you Dr. Concesion for sharing your work with us!  You can see the play at the Hudson Guild Theatre, playing in April 2013.  For more information, click HERE.

Spoken dialogue is never enough in storytelling.  As a director, I take great pains to develop and shape stage pictures that speak about the relationships of characters on stage.  A character's motivations, obstacles and the tactics they employ to get what they want in a given scene are powerfully told through blocking.  This is my art.  It’s like shaping a sculpture out of a large block of stone.  With each blocking choice, the story becomes more clear.  So, I felt it was necessary to employ certain body positions and movements throughout each scene that would help tell the story of Ibsen’s women.

Keeping it simple, the actors would often begin behind their music stands.  But as the scenes progressed and characters needed movement, I would stage them to make slight movements toward or away from the imaginary other character placed in the audience.  I also made some choices where the actors would be in close or further proximity of the other actor on stage, giving us a sense of advance and retreat.  Our process was organic.  The actors would often feel inclined to move in a moment, and it was simply up to me at that point to coordinate their movements with the other stage pictures being created at that moment.  Pacing in each scene was often established with the speed in which an actor moved as well as their rate of speech.  I used these as a tools to pace the entire evening.  

I also watched for obvious opportunities to employ basic levels and diagonals in stage composition -- a tactic I, like many directors, often employ in my plays.  Seldom did I want actors simply standing in a straight line.  I tried to break this up as much as possible, with the exception of the final scene in A Doll’s House.  I had Torvald and Nora stand almost shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the audience to start out, creating a powerful image of connectedness.  Throughout the scene we slowly broke them apart and separated them.  The more Nora argued her case and prepared to leave, the further they separated.

The movement choices had been made.  The actors were in the moment, in character, fully engaged within the scenes.  The final elements to send this reading into a complete performance piece were that of music and lighting, both part of my original vision for the project.  As a director, I have been on a big live music kick lately.  It’s slowly becoming a trademark of my directing style.  The scenes needed some form of bridge from scene to scene, as well as some underscoring for certain poignant moments.  We employed live piano, an instrument readily available during Ibsen’s day, but also one readily available to us in New York City in 2012. My direction to the pianist was minimal.  I asked for transitions between scenes, some starting at the end of the previous scene in the form of underscore, and some beginning part-way into a new scene.  Variation was the key.  Our pianist, Timothy Wall, took the day to listen and respond to what we were rehearsing, and made choices on where and what would be included with the underscoring of scenes.  Each choice was precise, intentional, and supportive of the action.  The piano played a huge role in setting the mood and in moving the audience emotionally.

The final brushstroke on the piece was the lighting.  In a basic reading, it’s often: “lights up,” and maybe a blackout at the end.  In our case, we had transitions and four distinctly different scenes that we needed to look and feel a little different from one another.  In addition, we had worked very hard to establish the mood of each scene through music, blocking, and acting choices.  So, to have the lighting match these choices was an obvious choice to maintain the convention we were establishing.  Our lighting technician, Caleb Jones, crafted each scene with a slightly different hue, and a base of color different for each scene.  Some were lit as interior scenes, while others had the look of an outdoor garden scene at night.  This was the final layer that enhanced the emotional response of those watching the performance.

Why Ibsen?  His writings today would be worthy of a Pulitzer prize for drama, an award that did not exist in Ibsen's day.  My discoveries through this process were that his plays not only read as novel masterpieces but they come to life with ease and clarity when performed.  Not many plays can accomplish both.  My dream of a stylized performance piece became a reality through organic, yet structured, rehearsals, along with an extremely talented and eager cast and crew.  I am forever grateful for the opportunity to collaborate on this project in the city of theatre, New York, with some of it’s most enthusiastic theatre artists.  This was a director’s dream.

The idea for Ibsen’s Women came from my desire to showcase some of the famous female characters in Ibsen’s plays, to explore how those characters compared and contrasted from one another, and to discover how the stories evoked social change during the late 1800s and today.  From the very birth of the idea, I wanted there to be lighting and sound cues along with some form of illustrative composition through the use of powerful stage pictures. A simple reader's theatre this was never destined to become.

Theatre scholars often research information and commentary about a playwright, characters, plots and the play's themes. This research often becomes the basis for articles and discussion among the scholars, students, and people interested in the topic. But my goal was to conduct research in a different way than conventional scholarly research involving books, journals, and internet databases.  Instead, I aimed to conduct research through the actual process of developing and performing the roles. What discoveries could be made by performing the roles? Ibsen’s plays are worthy of literary study and make for compelling reading. But they are meant to be staged and performed. My research style fused an innate desire to tell stories through theatrical performance with a high value placed on literary content and discussion.

I wanted the audience to feel. I wanted the actors to experience the inner strength of Ibsen’s most famous women. Time and budget restraints required that this be a quick process, one that would best be suited as a staged reading, allowing actors to have scripts in hand. Since this was not a new work being workshopped, or some other made-for-read-only script, it was important to find ways to evoke emotion without the actors simply standing behind a podium reading text as is often the case in a reading. The complexities of the scene did not afford us time to fully stage each scene, and we certainly did not have time to deal with major movement patterns, props, or set pieces. 

To begin our first read-through, I shared my vision with the cast about wanting the audience to feel and experience Ibsen’s works in a powerful way. I proposed an idea with which the actors could experiment the next day at rehearsal. The idea was for the actors to play each moment out front, as if the other person in the scene were standing directly in front of them. It was similar to someone performing a monologue, speaking directly to their “other,” who in this case was simply a fixed object on the back wall. It reminded some of our actors of film acting, playing directly into a camera without a fellow actor in the scene with them at all. The actors seemed enthused and willing to try the experiment. I emphasized that it would be an experiment and if it did not work that we would scrap the idea altogether.

Cynthia Shaw and Robert Eigen perform a scene, demonstrating our chosen convention of playing all dialog out front.

The very first scene we staged the next morning went beautifully. I could tell right away that the idea to play the scenes out front, without acknowledging the other actor on stage, was going to create a unique and powerful experience. Throughout rehearsal, it was not easy for our actors to abide by the fixed object rule. I would often catch them sneaking a peek at their fellow actors or making eye contact with them. They would simply grin and fix the problem each time I reminded them of our unique convention. 

The night of the performance, the audience was part of the play. They were Nora being looked at by Torvald. They were Torvald being dismissed by Nora. They felt the sensation of what Stanislavski termed as “communion.”  That is, the moment on stage when one character communes with another through the powerful and spiritual medium of connection. Stanislavski once said “The eyes scream what the mouth is afraid to say.” In our telling of Ibsen’s Women, the eyes screamed and the audience felt. It was a successful choice.

Grex Group Theatre may be a relatively young company, but we believe you're never too young to make a big impact. So, we've been asking ourselves how we can expand the impact of Grex Group Theatre productions beyond our own work to assist the larger arts community in New York City. That's obviously a question we will continue to ask ourselves as we grow, but for now, we've already begun an exciting new philanthropic partnership we'd like to tell you about. We're pleased to announce Grex Group's partnership with NYC charity, Art Start.

Art Start is an award-winning, nationally-recognized model for using the creative arts to transform young, at-risk lives. Art Start kids live in city shelters, on the streets, are involved in court cases, or surviving with parents in crisis. Through Art Start’s daily creative arts workshops taking place inside some of the city’s loneliest places, at-risk youth collaborate with local teaching artists and educators who donate their time and guidance to nurture the youth’s creativity and talents.

We have been so pleased to discover the work that Art Start is doing in New York City and to get to know some of their team. To show our support for their work, Grex Group has committed to donate 1/2 of all ticket revenue from our upcoming production, Ibsen's Women, to Art Start. That means $6 of every ticket sold will go directly to support the work of this charity!

Please take some time to find out more about Art Start on their comprehensive website. We think you'll agree this is a fantastic organization doing some great work for a great cause. Join us for Ibsen's Women on October 14th and you'll be supporting Art Start with your ticket purchase. Beyond that, consider how you might be able to donate your time or money to support the ongoing work that Art Start is doing.

Ryan Wood performs as Shrek, in the hit Broadway touring production of “Shrek: The Musical.”

Clayton:  Performing a role day after day, week after week must be a challenge.  What are some lessons you’ve learned about the art form after having traveled and performed the show time after time?

Ryan:  Well this is a rather tricky thing for me. Not only was touring new to me, but I had also never performed one specific show for longer than a 3 week run. So traveling a show of this magnitude and training myself to sustain the integrity of my onstage duties had its share of hard times. But Shrek taught me SO much about myself and about being a professional. When you perform a show for an extended period of time, you get a natural tendency along the way to “phone it in.”  It’s something every actor deals with. You get so comfortable in the role that you stop thinking about EVERYTHING else other than (in my case) Shrek the Musical. This was a turning point for me as an actor because it meant that I now had to think outside my own little box and find new discoveries within the story. I had to force myself to discover new things, have new moments with my fellow Fairytale Creatures, push myself further to not let myself sink into that washed up actor who could care less. Doing a show time after time pushed me into being a better performer, but only because I wouldn’t let it affect me in a negative way. I used it to make me a better actor. I loved it.

Clayton:  In a recent blog interview with Chris Rice, he talked about the different audiences a performer experiences in a touring show.  So, we want to hear your take on this topic.  How do you find that audiences differ from city to city? Do some shows play better than others, and how much does audience affect the show?

Ryan:  This was an astounding thing to me. It shocked me how some cities responded COMPLETELY different than other cities. We could be in a small town like Orange, Texas one weekend, have amazing shows with killer audiences, having the best time, then the very next city (who shall remain nameless) is silent. Unresponsive to everything. I’ll never understand that. But it happens all the time. So we had to get used to it and try to not let it affect us. And with Shrek, a good audience means a great show. A bad audience, still a good show, but drains us so much more than it should.

Ryan Wood during intermission during a Broadway touring production of “Shrek: The Musical.”

Clayton:  This show has been an interesting one for you, as you have played several different characters, including Lord Farquaad, Donkey, Pig, and of course…Shrek.  What have you learned about performance having understudied and filled in for other roles during the run of Shrek?

Ryan:  Shrek was the first show I had professionally understudied for and it was such a huge learning experience for me. It taught me that it is up to ME to learn the role to the best of my ability. You can’t rely on having a bunch of rehearsals and get plenty of time with the director. In fact; I never ONCE had a rehearsal for the role of Shrek with my director. Any rehearsal I had was in a little studio with my stage manager. You just have to do you homework, because you could go on much sooner than you ever thought you would. From a performance aspect, it is wildly fulfilling to step into a role and have the chance to make it your own. The main thing that I struggled with was having the actor whom I am understudying fill my head during a performance with how THEY performed the role. I constantly think to myself “Wait, what did Lukas [our Shrek] do here? I know he crossed stage left to Fiona, but he would always hesitate and give her a shrug…” and so on. I had to trust myself as an actor and a good understudy. I knew the blocking, now it’s thinking as Shrek AS WELL AS getting the blocking right (which, admittedly, I didn’t always nail). It was a hard thing that I struggled with even to my last show as Shrek.

Clayton:  In academic theatre, directors are a part of the process until the close of the show, but in a professional touring show, directors complete their work and disappear.  Describe your interactions with the director and what it’s like to carry on in performance after the director has long since departed.

Ryan:  Shrek is a Fairytale.  So we got to do a great deal of playing around and having fun with each other. Our director, Stephen Sposito, was very good about giving us a sort of broad sense of where the scene needed to go and left the personal relationships to build organically with us. But I still remember the first time we did the number “Freak Flag” in the rehearsal space with Stephen. We had worked on the choreography for days with our choreographer, but putting it together with Stephen was magical. It was keeping it magical that was the challenge. Once the director leaves (which is generally the day after opening night) it is the Stage Manager’s responsibility to act as the director in his/her absence. She was the one giving acting notes and working understudy rehearsals. So that was something that was a little strange to me and difficult to adapt to. My Stage Manager really helped revive old beats. Things that, in time, had been over and forgotten, she would help bring those moments back to where Stephen had them in rehearsals.

Clayton:  Ok, last question..something many people find fascinating: the transformation of a human to an Ogre: can you tell us about the make-up process?

Ryan:  Shrek, when it was on Broadway, took 2 and a half hours to get into makeup before the show. Over time and after the 1st National went out, the creative team figured out a few corners that could be cut to save time. Now, the running time is about 1 hour and 35 minutes. Not bad, yeah? It consists of several facial products applied to the skin to protect it from the heavy gluing and allows the glue to adhere, but still be removed at the end of the show. After that, a bald cap is glued to the head, then what we call “the cowl” is pulled over the head and acts as basically everything on the head minus the face. Once the cowl is on, the chin/cheek silicon mold is then glued to the face. After that, is the forehead, nose and lower lip. The edges of the silicon face pieces are very thin so that after everything is glued down, the makeup artist can then burn off the edges with a special chemical that leaves the pieces to fit together seamlessly. Once all is glued, the whole face gets painted green including around the eyes and eye lids, then the eyebrows get a brown brush to them to make them bushier than they already were. (in my case.. VERY). Then a quick airbrush over the whole face with brown spacial and BOOM: Shrek is complete. Well… his face at least. Then he puts on the 40 lb costume and that just a whole new story….

Ryan Wood becomes Shrek.

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO READ:

http://catlander.wordpress.com/2012/08/20/what-makes-a-director-good-or-a-good-director/

We welcome your comments and feedback on this article as we hope you will contribute to the discussion on this topic!

To all of the community, regional, and commercial theatre groups struggling to survive…keep fighting for your art.  This is a cause worthy of a fight.

Article submitted by Clayton Guiltner, Producing Artistic Director of the Grex Group Theatre

“Where Did The Curtain Crank Handle Go?”
by Robert Woods

In 2008-2009, I taught at Guangxi University in Nanning, China. The particular college I worked for is called Sino-Canadian International College (SCIC), and all instruction is in English. The dean was always looking for opportunities for the students to use their English outside the classroom, and because I had a background in theater, I got the hair-brained idea to produce and direct a production of Disney’s High School Musical, using a cast and crew of students who had absolutely no theater experience.

When I pitched the idea to the dean, he looked pleased and said, “how long will this show run – 15 or 20 minutes?” “Oh, no,” I said, “we’re going to do the whole show. An hour and a half.” I thought he was going to fall out of his chair.

What I didn’t know was that nobody, but nobody in southern China had tried to put on a full-length English language musical. The Vice-Dean told me she had wanted to do such a project for five years, but never had anyone to do it – meaning there had not been anyone as crazy as me to suggest it, much less to produce and direct it.

The project immediately became hugely important to the college. Our first organizational meeting was attended by 40 members of the drama club, the student union president, the leader of the student union (a position higher than president), the minister and vice-minister of the university’s culture department, and a faculty professor, plus me and my choreographer, Brenley Nicole Muyen, another teacher at SCIC. The big musical number that closes the show is “We’re All In This Together.” It certainly applied to this production of HSM.

Auditions followed a reverse schedule of how they would go in America. I was used to actors wanting to audition as early as possible. Not so in China, where it is considered too “forward” to put yourself ahead of your fellow students. The first night only 15 people showed up to audition, and 14 of those were girls. There were almost more student volunteers working the audition (shuttling people from waiting room to audition room, etc.) than there were auditioners. Then 50 people showed up the second day, and finally 80 showed up the third day. All the best people waited until the third day to audition.

China’s premiere of “High School Musical”, directed by Robert Woods.

My next eye-opener came after I cast the show. There was a political blow-up over the casting of “Gabriella,” the lead girl. Seems a couple of girls who didn’t get the part went to the SCIC student union and said we cast the wrong girl. The student union representative then came to me and said, “you have to replace the lead girl. She’s not cute enough or tall enough. Replace her, or the student union will not support the show.” I was furious. Both I and my choreographer told them in very frank language that we were not changing the casting, and that not only did we think the girl we cast was very cute, but we had cast her because she was the strongest singer and strongest actor, and also the one who looked best with the lead boy. I tried threatening that if we could not have our choice for the lead, then we would just cancel the show. But the rumbling continued. As with everything in China, direct confrontation did not work. China is a collectivistic culture, so everything needs to be done by consensus. I enlisted the aid of the faculty member who was in charge of the student union, and she worked things out.

The performance date (one night only) was scheduled for March 15, 2009. We had our first read-through of the script on December 10, 2008, and I was really pleased. The kids were all reading their parts cold, in English, which of course is a foreign language to them, and they not only read well, they even began acting it a bit. It boosted my confidence that we would have a good show. We started blocking rehearsals the next week. Oh, but first I had to draw a map of the stage and teach everyone what was stage left and right, and upstage and down stage. And of course, every time I used those terms during rehearsals, I had to explain them again.

Finding a rehearsal room was a challenge. The first blocking rehearsals were done in the SCIC staff ping-pong room, with the ping-pong table moved out of the way. Then we had a blocking rehearsal on the outdoor patio of one of the dorm buildings. Finally, we got access to a big room above the east campus cafeteria, but we never had it to ourselves. While we tried to rehearse on one side of the room, other groups practiced dancing, kung fu, and cheerleading on the other side. I could hardly hear myself think, but my Chinese students did not seem to notice. Living in a country of 1.3 billion people, they were quite used to distractions.

Then the semester ended. I could only hope that the students would learn their lines and songs during the month-long break.

We started up again on February 16, and went hard at it. We rehearsed every day, Monday through Friday, from 5:30 – 7:00 pm (that was the only time no one had classes, because Chinese college students go to class from 7:40 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.), and on weekends we rehearsed for 4 hours on Saturday and 7 hours on Sunday. The first two weeks back, I was completely in despair. No one had learned their material, except for the two leads. I had to drill the chorus on all their songs, note by note. Brenley spent hours working the dancers – when she could get them to show up. It was very frustrating. Half the time only a few dancers would show up. The actors and singers were more disciplined about coming to rehearsal, but no one ever comes on time. We schedule rehearsal for 5:30 pm, and maybe we get started by 5:50. There was simply no way to enforce the kind of discipline that I was used to with American actors.

And then there was the rehearsal space problem. We were given access to a room on east campus that was large enough, but half of it was occupied by approximately 5,000 plastic stools, which were full of mosquitos, and it had no electric outlets, so we couldn’t plug in the computer or speakers to play the music. After three very frustrating rehearsals in that space, we got kicked out when the university rented the room to a bank. Finally, we got access to a huge room in the gym, with wood floors, mirrors on the walls, and plenty of space. That was a lifesaver. We were able to really get work done there.

Because all of my student actors and crew were first-timers, I wore a lot of hats for the production: director, producer, propmaster, costume procurer (basketball outfits), and sound engineer. Because we did not have a huge chorus, we needed to record them all singing the songs, and then perform to that recording, so when they sang in performance, their volume would be doubled. We had a small recording studio at SCIC, so on the final weekend before the opening, after rehearsing all day, the chorus came to the studio and spent three hours on both Saturday and Sunday nights recording the chorus songs, with myself operating the recording equipment. Then I spent another 10 hours editing and mixing the sound, so it would match the Disney-recorded musical accompaniment we were using for the rest of the songs in the show.

China’s premiere of “High School Musical”, directed by Robert Woods.

Despite all the headaches, the show was coming together, which was truly amazing when I stopped to think about what the students had done. After all, they were performing the show entirely in what to them is a foreign language – English. The fact that they all learned their parts was incredible, but that they also really acted their characters was just marvelous.

But the last week of rehearsals, it was looking very shaky. The run-throughs were going fine – that is, when we had a room to do them in. We were supposed to get into the actual theater for the first time on Friday, March 13 (I should have known that was going to be a bad day) for a technical rehearsal – to set the lights, try out the sound system, etc. I had earlier learned that the sound system in the theater was not capable of handling our needs. I wanted wireless microphones for each of my 12 lead actors. The sound system in the theater would handle only 4 microphones at a time, and after that it would just produce garbled noise. I had rented a professional sound system, but we could only afford one day of use, and even that was rather expensive. So we would not have microphones for tech rehearsals on Friday or Saturday, but only on Sunday for a final rehearsal and the performance.

I thought we could still set lights on Friday. When we got in to the theater Friday afternoon, we were informed that if we wanted lights, it was another 500 yuan. Never mind that we had paid 700 yuan per day to rent the theater; that price didn’t include use of the stage lighting. We paid the extra fee. Now we could turn the lights on, but we were not allowed to refocus their positions. They put light on the stage wherever they were pointing. We could not adjust them. So my elaborate lighting plan was scrapped, and instead it became, “turn the lights on when the curtain goes up, and turn them off when the curtain goes down.” On Saturday, we had a sort-of dress rehearsal, but we had to do it without stage lighting (couldn’t afford another 500 yuan for that day) and no one had costumes, except for the boys playing the basketball team members, who at least wore their uniforms. We also still had no microphones, and our sound system was still what we had used in rehearsals – my laptop computer, hooked up to fairly small speakers.

In the rehearsal rooms, that had been fine, but on stage in a big theater it wasn’t nearly loud enough, so everyone had trouble hearing the music and they were always getting ahead of or behind the music, and singing off key.  Our final opportunity for a dress rehearsal was Sunday, 3:00 to 5:00. The sound system that I had rented came at 1:30, along with the men to set it up and run it. The set up took an hour and a half. Finally, we started the run-through at a little after 3:00. It went pretty smoothly, except for one little hitch. The four leads (Troy, Gabriella, and Sharpay) had all left to go have their hair and makeup done professionally. The idea that the lead actors would simply not show up for the final dress rehearsal had never entered my mind. So the run-through was done with me, or others in the cast, voicing all the lead parts.

All during the rehearsal, the sound man kept adjusting volume levels on the 12 wireless microphones, and I had to keep running around the stage and backstage, directing the movement of furniture and props, and other assorted madness. And of course, there was no stage lighting. We could only afford to turn the lights on for the actual performance that night.

China’s premiere of “High School Musical”, directed by Robert Woods.

But there was one last surprise. The curtain in the theater opened and closed using a hand crank device. When we went to close the curtain after the afternoon rehearsal, the handle for the crank was missing. We searched everywhere, except for a locked room on the second floor of the theater. We figured it had to be in there. But the man with the key to that room was not around and wouldn’t arrive until 7:15 pm that night, and the pre-show festivities were due to start at 7:30. Well, the man finally arrived about 7:25, and yes, he said the handle was in that locked room. But he wouldn’t open the room until we paid him 500 yuan. The crank handle was being held for ransom! We had no choice but to pay. We needed to get that curtain closed. So another 500 yuan that we did not have was spent, and the curtain was finally closed just as the last of the audience was being seated.

In the theater they say, “bad dress rehearsal, good performance.” Thank goodness it turned out to be true. The performance was fantastic. The students all stepped up their performance levels to far beyond anything they had achieved in rehearsals, the audience was enthralled, and the performance ran smoothly and without a hitch. Most importantly, we proved that a Western-style musical could be successfully performed, in English, with student actors. It was a huge achievement for everyone involved, and in the process I grew to appreciate the challenges and joys of directing in a foreign culture.

Article Contributed by Robert Woods who holds an MFA in Directing and a JD in Law and currently lives in Los Angeles, CA.  

Christopher Rice performs in the Broadway touring production of West Side Story.

Clayton: As an actor/dancer – how do you keep your performances/characterizations fresh, having to perform them week after week?

Christopher: This question has a 2 part answer. West Side Story is a really deep show and equally physically demanding. Let’s talk physical first. Eight shows a week we perform what is arguably some of the most iconic (and difficult) choreography of all time. Because of this, there is a lot of pressure to surpass the high expectations of patrons night after night. This results in a lot of wear and tear on your body. To physically maintain your body on the road, everyone has a different regimen. Personally, I go to the gym 5-6 times a week to lift weights, gain muscle, and maintain the physical body type the director and choreographer want. It is also important to work the muscles we neglect during the show. (Many of the Jet boy choreography is on the left side and our right legs are neglected. We must work those at the gym so we don’t walk lopsided.) Going to dance class is important because it helps us check in and realign our bodies. We must also roll out our muscles with a foam roller to prevent our knees from being pulled out of place by over or under-developed muscles and to prevent other similar injuries. I have done long runs before but I have never had the opportunity to do the same show hundreds of times. The key to keeping it fresh, for me, is listening. I know that sounds generic and perhaps a little “actory”, but it is true. There are times when you zone out in scenes unintentionally. It happens at times no matter how hard you fight it! Once you realize that you aren’t “in” the scene, it is necessary to get back in the moment fast. If you are listening to the new information your character is receiving, you are pulled back into the world of the show. Also, by continually listening you learn more about your character, other characters, the story, and how to best to tell the story.

Clayton:  What are some lessons you’ve learned about the art form after having traveled and performed the show time after time?

Christopher:  I have learned to pace myself. It is possible to be 100% commitment to a show and still do it in a way where you know you will have the physical and vocal stamina to do the show again later that night. It is a ‘science’… one that I have yet to master. However, I know it is important to constantly think about when doing a long run. When performing in a week or month-long run, it may be possible to throw yourself in full throttle and recover after closing. When you are doing a longer run, you need to figure out what works best for you. We do a ton of yelling in the show, so some days it is about using more breath and other days it is about letting the intention drive your vocal energy forward and outward.

Clayton:  How do you find that audiences differ from city to city? Do some shows play better than others, and how much does audience affect the show?

Christopher:  Audiences differ city to city more than I imagined they would. Thankfully we have been pretty packed in most cities, but the audience reactions vary. We’ve heard positive feedback all over, but in some venues the reactions are far more vocal than others. The coastal cities responded more vocally to the cruder jokes and gestures of the younger characters. When we have played in multiple Canadian cities, it is funny to note how they don’t laugh at certain American references and when patriotic themes are used for comedic purposes. Some cities use more audience member etiquette than others, but I guess that is expected for some of the smaller towns.

Christopher Rice performs in the Broadway touring production of West Side Story.

Clayton:  As a professional actor, what advice do you have for fellow actors working to have a career?

Christopher:  I have three things to say here. They may be reminders, but I feel they are important nonetheless! 1) Don’t give up. Many people told me I wouldn’t make it. If you hear similar feedback/opinions, just do them a favor and prove them wrong.   2) Go to the auditions. I never would have thought I would be prepared to be cast in such an intense show as West Side Story. Sometimes the casting directors see more in you than you do. You may be more prepared or right for the role than you think you are.  3) Be nice to everyone. You never know where you will be in the future and where they will be in the future. Be nice to work with. No one likes a diva and you might as well be likable! If you are nice and you do your job, people will want to work with you again in the future.

Clayton:  What are some of the biggest contributions the director / choreographer for West Side Story made that helped you shine as a performer?

Christopher:  The play’s author, Arthur Lawrence, who passed away just over a year ago, directed this production. This version of the show hosts quite a few of his changes to the original script. He chose to add a lot more Spanish to the production to create a higher level of authenticity for the Sharks in the show. Mr. Lawrence also eliminated some of the “Buddy-boy” and “Daddy-o” dialogue in hopes to remove some of the names and lines that came off as cutesy. The choreographer recreated the original Jerome Robbins Broadway choreography, which he learned from Mr. Robbins himself. There were minor shifts and changes, but 99% of the musical staging looked the same.

Christopher Rice

Final Thoughts:  It is an honor to be on this blog and I am thankful for anyone taking the time to read what I had to say. Best of luck to all of you and feel free to check in and see what I am up to on my website and twitter.  Thanks! Christopher Rice.

You can learn more about Mr. Rice at his web site: www.ChristopherRiceOnline.com or follow him on Twitter: @ChrisRiceNY

Unfortunately, it is not nor has it ever had anything to do with any species of the reptile or amphibian families. Sorry for those of you hoping I would post a picture of a komodo dragon or something more tropical.

The origins of grex date to Roman times. The term at its root form refers to a “troupe of actors”, the chief actor was referred to as the dominus grex or dominus gregis. Often the officials in charge of festivals would contact a dominus gregis, who served as that era’s version of a producer, to put on the play. He would buy the play himself, or recommend playwrights to the officials, hire the actors, and make arrangements for whatever necessities the production required.

Often, but not always, actors that were part of a grex were slaves, or at least took part in some form of indentured servitude. Even though they were technically servants, these actors were considered professionals in their field, and maintained a small level of respect amongst the general populous. That being said, however, being an actor in this time was not considered a worthwhile endeavor, and generally was looked down on.

Does any of this sound familiar? To me, it shows that even 2,000 years later, not much has changed in the way the world at large views the theatre. Of course, this serves to be a double meaning. In order to produce truly worthwhile art, one must, in essence, be a slave to it. They must devote their entire being to their work, and in doing so, creates something memorable and worthwhile.

That, to me, is a Grex.

Of course, a lizard or something along those lines might help sell some merchandise. We’ll get back to you on that.

Article contributed by: Casey Wright.  Mr. Wright holds an M.A. in Drama: Dramaturgy from The University of Oklahoma School of Drama.

Sources and further reading:
http://www.nvcc.edu/home/etrumbull/theatre/FinelliClassic.html
http://faculty.vassar.edu/jolott/old_courses/republic1998/plautus/comedy.html
http://www.usu.edu/markdamen/ClasDram/chapters/131romtheatre.htm