That’s why it proves so maddening to so many when efforts to right the balance meet with opposition. Last week, in Raleigh NC, an effort to advance the cause of female directors in the city’s theatres began to fray just a day after it was announced. The participating theatres had agreed to hire only female directors for open directing slots in their 2017-2018 seasons; this followed on a Women’s Theatre Festival in the area this past summer. As reported by Byron Woods of Indy Week last week, with further updates just before Thanksgiving, a pseudonymous complaint of discrimination about the plan to the signatory companies and the Raleigh Arts Council was sufficient to have one theatre immediately withdraw and for Sarah Powers, executive director of the RAC, to re-emphasize the importance of their non-discrimination granting policy, and to say that the claim would be investigated.
For those who champion equity, as well as diversity, this sort of blowback is frustrating. After all, when statistics prove inequity, why do efforts to rebalance the scales get charged as discriminatory? The fact is, while there is more than enough evidence to demonstrate a tacit pattern of discrimination favoring white men in the theatre, there is no explicit policy. But when there is a concerted, verifiable attempt to favor any subset of the population while excluding others in hiring, anti-discrimination policies and laws kick in, because they were designed to protect everyone from discrimination, not only defined populations.
It’s troubling that in the Raleigh situation, the complainants – there are now two – are pseudonymous, with Indy Week unable to verify their identities. But the press release about the Raleigh initiative on behalf of female directors is verifiable, as are the companies participating.
The situation is corollary to the one experienced by the musical Hamilton earlier this year, when a casting notice sought “non-white” men and women for its multicultural cast. While it is entirely within the purview of the production to choose actors according to the desired characteristics of the roles, the explicitly exclusive language about the actors being sought put the show at risk of violating discrimination statutes, as well as the policies of Actors Equity. It was quickly revised, even as the production made clear that its creative intent was unchanged.
Looking to the future, we are now less than four years away from the intended start of The Jubilee, an initiative begun by, per its organizing principles as stated on Howlround in October 2015, “a self-organized group of theatremakers from around the country,” asking both theatre companies and individuals to sign on to the following:
In order to address equity in the American Theatre and in my community, I pledge to support a diverse, inclusive, and intersectional vision in the 2020-2021 season:
Every theatre in the United States of America will produce only work by women, people of color, Native American artists, LBGTQIA artists, deaf artists, and artists with disabilities.
It’s impossible not to look at the Jubilee plans in light of the Hamilton and Raleigh precedents, and indeed the political and social outlook of the still-forming new federal administration. Similar initiatives could face an uphill legal battle, although The Jubilee may be protected by the fact that playwrights are not defined as employees under prevailing labor law. Public perception is another matter, especially at a time when apparently some white men perceive their primacy as being reinforced as a result of the presidential election.
However, this doesn’t mean that diversity and equity cannot be proactively addressed. In Hollywood, the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission is more than a year into investigating the gender imbalance among film and television directors, prompted by efforts from the American Civil Liberties Union. If the theatre field doesn’t self-police and initiate real change in the face of overwhelming statistics, it might one day find itself under comparable investigation.
The myriad circumstances, practices and excuses that have maintained the American Theatre as a majority white male domain are unjust and unfair. None of the foregoing is intended to dissuade efforts towards equity, diversity and inclusion, or to suddenly treat white men as a specifically protected and oppressed class. But as various constituencies in the arts work to correct the historic imbalances, they need to remain aware of the legal ramifications of their efforts, and the language in which they define them, even given the significant irony of those seeking to end discrimination potentially running afoul of anti-discrimination laws.
Union Square Incident premiered on November 14, 2016 as part of The 24 Hour Plays on Broadway (Mark Armstrong, Executive Director; Tina Fallon, Founding Producer) at the American Airlines Theatre. It was directed by Elena Araoz with the following cast: Ashlie Atkinson, Jason Biggs, Michael Cerveris, Russell G. Jones, Olivia Washington and Julie White.
Warren Leight’s plays include Side Man (Tony Award), No Foreigners Beyond This Point (Drama Desk nomination), Glimmer, Glimmer and Shine (ATCA nomination). In TV he’s been the Showrunner and Executive Producer of Law and Order: SVU (Imagen, NAACP, and Prism Awards), In Treatment (Peabody Award), Lights Out, and the Edgar-winning Law and Order: Criminal Intent.
Jason Biggs and Ashlie Atkinson in “Union Square Incident”
Lights up on a bare room with a few benches and one door upstage left or right. We will learn it’s a holding pen of some sort. On one bench, a black man, RUSSELL, is seated. His pockets have been emptied and turned inside out. He has no belt or shoelaces. He’s stressed out. In a corner, rocking back and forth, ASHLIE, a Brooklyn activist, is clearly in a deep state of distress. She doesn’t even notice now as the door opens. And MICHAEL, a middle-aged, Upper West Side white male, enters. Pockets turned inside out. No belt. He tries to bargain with JASON, the bro-guard, at the door.
Michael If I could just have my phone, for a second. My wife is, she’s not well. She’s been anxious ever since the… I need to let her know where I am.
Jason As soon as everything’s cleared up, you can make a call.
Michael She’ll be worried. I need to let her know where I am..
Jason I’m sure she’ll be fine. Okay, pops. Just relax. (to Ashlie) Hey you, my twitchy friend.
Jason goes to Ashlie, who is startled by his touch. He motions her toward the door. She’s broken.
Jason Guess what?
Ashlie I give up.
Jason That’s all we wanted to hear. And now, let’s see that smile of yours, from your Avi. (He mimics her Avi smile) You are free to go.
Ashlie Really. That’s it?
Jason (for everyone’s benefit) I told you, if you have nothing to worry about, you have nothing to worry about.
Jason walks Ashlie out. The door closes in Michael’s face. He looks around.
Michael Where am I?
Russell I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the Tombs. Some place new they must have set up.
Michael New place?
Russell I thought we went over a bridge. And it feels kind of… off the grid. I imagine they want these places out of public view.
Michael C’mon, it’s a little soon for all that to be happening. Don’t you think.
Russell They knew they were going to win. They must have had it in the works.
Michael You know, no offense, you sound a little… paranoid.
Russell Okay, so what do you think is going on? We’re like, being punked for a Prank TV show.
Michael I don’t think we’re under arrest.
Russell Not officially. They’re supposed to tell you if you’re under arrest. They tell you anything?
Michael I was marching. Up from Union Square. They said everyone move to the sidewalk. I tried to move, but it was crowded, before I could get there, these two guys grabbed me –
Russell Were they in uniform?
Michael No. Suits.
Russell Could be FBI? Or some bullshit Task Force.
Michael They put me in a van. Then here. They took my wallet. My cell phone.
Russell Did you shut it down first?
Michael No. I mean, he asked for my cell — he said it was protocol.
Russell You got to shut it down. And have a strong password — they’re probably putting your photos through facial recognition.
Michael It’s mostly just pictures of my kids.
Russell Also going through your emails, your social media, your texts. And every place you’ve been is geo-tagged. Unless you’ve been using a Tor browser, or a two-factor authentication on –
Michael My wife and I share an AOL account. I don’t think we ever set that –
Russell AOL? Nah… I don’t think you did.
Michael Anyway, they can’t go through the email… not without a warrant.
Russell I wish I had a pen right now. I keep a little list. I call it “funny shit white people say.”
Michael Cerveris, Russell G. Jones and Julie White in “Union Square Incident”
The door opens again. JULIE walks in. A very angry, put-together middle-aged white woman. She has no purse; if wearing pants, her pockets are turned inside out. No jewelry. Except for a Hillary button. She’s going at it, with Jason, who’s annoying the fuck out of her.
Julie You can’t actually do this, you know. You can’t detain people without –
Jason Ma’am, instead of being all upset, just try to relax –
Julie Relax. Relax and enjoy it? You can’t do this!! I am a lawyer. I know my rights.
Jason No one is violating anyone’s rights. You’re not being detained.
Julie So I’m free to leave?
Jason Just as soon as everything is cleared up. Are we good.
Julie NO, bro, we’re not good. And if you can’t talk to me, without patronizing me, I’d rather you not talk to me at all.
Jason Suit yourself. Have a nice day.
He closes the door on her. She looks around.
Julie That little pissant son of a bitch. “You’re not being detained.” He just lied straight to my face.
Russell If nothing else, they have turned that into an art form.
Russell gets up, as Michael helps Julie to a bench.
Julie This really is completely illegal.
Michael You’re a lawyer?
Julie What are you?
Michael An aging liberal.
Russell With an AOL account.
Julie Ha! You two were marching?
Russell I saw them taking this girl down. In her twenties. I started to video it –
Julie Which is perfectly legal.
Russell For now. And… I end up here. I don’t know what happened to the girl.
Julie These motherfuckers… “Don’t worry, he doesn’t mean those things he’s saying. It’s just to get elected. There’ll be checks and balances. It can’t happen here. It won’t happen here.”
Michael Guys, take it easy, nothing is happening here, with all due respect –
Julie Don’t fucking say that. Anytime any man anywhere says all due respect, it means he has absolutely no respect for you, or for that matter, any woman.
Michael You’re sounding a little hys — (catches himself)
Julie Hysterical. Go ahead, say it. Go on.
Michael looks to Russell, hoping for what, male support?
Russell Don’t look at me. I’m with her.
Julie Do you know what this year has told me. I don’t matter. The only reason a woman ever matters is her vagina, and now that mine’s too old and He doesn’t want to grab it, it’s okay for me to be marginalized or discarded or vilified. Even by other women.
She breaks down. Russell awkwardly comforts her.
Michael I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to negate –
Russell Give her a moment.
Julie No… tell me. What weren’t you trying to negate?
Michael Your feelings. It’s just… we’re all feeling raw. But, I have to believe things aren’t going to be as bad as everyone says. It’s easy to demonize the other side. To assume the worst. If we could try to understand where they are coming from –
Russell Oh I know where they’re coming from. The KKK, the FBI, the KGB — this wasn’t an election, it was a coup d’etat.
Michael No… it was an election. We lost. They won.
Julie First of all, they didn’t win. Second of all, they rigged it.
Michael Now who do you sound like? It’s not rigged. He tapped into something.
Russell American Homegrown Racism, brewed to perfection.
Michael Yeah, some of that. And some genuine anger, and frustration. And — let’s be fair. She had a lot of baggage.
Julie Don’t you dare. Do not start with that false equivalence bullshit. He’s a draft dodgin’, tax dodging, climate-change-denying racist misogynist, who will deport your family and potentially destroy the world, or at least all civil liberties, but — hey, how about those emails.
Michael It wasn’t just the emails. Or the KGB or misogyny or racism or even her not having a message. It was a perfect storm.
Julie White in “Union Square Incident”
The door opens again. And now OLIVIA, a young black woman enters. She’s a mess, she’s been crying. She’s bruised, clothes a little ripped.
Jason Here we go. Nice and easy.
Olivia I want to see him. Why can’t I see him.
Jason Why don’t you just sit down. Let your friends here take care of you. (to the rest) Folks. This young lady’s had a bit of a hard day. Can you make some room for her.
Olivia all but collapses into Michael and Russell’s arms. They walk her down to the bench. Julie helps hold her there. She’s in some kind of shock.
Olivia They must have shot him. He might be dead.
Michael No one’s been shot. That’s not going on –
Russell and Julie glare at him.
Julie Do any of us have any idea what’s going on? (off Michael) I don’t think so. So how about we ask her what happened to her, instead of telling her?
Michael (chastened) What… happened?
Olivia They were putting some people in these pens. You know, with the metal rails. And my boyfriend, he noticed two of them weren’t on right, so he worked them apart. We squeezed through, and ran. Down the block, and right into this group of, I don’t know, counter-protesters. I guess. They came like, out of nowhere.
Russell (sotto) Or not.
Olivia They saw us, started chanting all kinds of names. By then the Security People were behind us, but instead of stopping them, they let the mob beat on him, and pull on me. Grabbing at me, everywhere. Finally one of the Security says, that’s enough, fellas. And they stop. Part like the Red Sea. Security took my boyfriend away, he was bleeding bad from the head.
Julie I’m so sorry.
Olivia We weren’t even marching. Just came up out of the subway at Union Square and it was on. I tried to tell them that, but –
Russell It doesn’t matter. Wrong race, wrong place, wrong time.
Michael I can’t believe this — it can’t be — this isn’t happening. Not in New York. New York is different. You heard the Governor, he said it would be a sanctuary.
Russell And you think the new regime is just gonna be ok with that.
Michael Yeah. I do. I know my city, I know my county.
Julie So we’re all paranoid, and it’s just a little swing of the pendulum. And nobody’s rights are going to be taken away…
The door opens. Jason comes in, with a big smile on his face. He has a RED BAG for Julie. A TIE for Michael. Cell phones, belts for Michael and Russell.
Jason Okay. That didn’t take so long did it.
He hands Julie, Michael, and Russell some of their possessions back.
Michael We’re okay to go?
Jason Like I said, if you have nothing to worry about, you have nothing to worry about. Sorry for the inconvenience. What we’re dealing with, there are a lot of moving parts. But cut to the chase, there’s no reason to detain you any longer.
Julie You said we weren’t being detained.
Jason (almost laughing) Are you sure I said that? Either way, it’s in the past. Right?
Russell (looks at cell phone) My photos have been removed.
Jason Oh have they. I’m sorry about that. It must have bounced around a bit.
Julie (checking bag) I had a cell phone, where is it.
Jason If it turns up, we know where you live. Anyway, I know you all don’t want to be here any longer than you have to, so let’s not worry about the little losses, okay.
The four look at each other.
Michael Guys…
Russell Fuck it, let’s go. (Russell looks to Olivia, who may be in shock. He goes to help her up.) C’mon, sweetheart, the door’s open.
Jason Actually. Not so fast there. Right now, it’s open for you three.
Russell You said we were all free to go.
Jason Did I say all? I don’t think I said all. She’s had a rough day, we just want to make sure we know, and she knows what’s what before she goes home. Nothing bad’s going to happen.
Julie But she will be going home.
Jason Everyone’s a winner here. So many winners. Believe me. Eyes on the prize everyone. (to Michael) I know you want to call your wife, she must be worried sick.
Jason leads, Michael starts to follow. Then Jason notices Russell and Julie are looking at each other.
Jason Folks, operators are standing by. Make your move.
Russell I believe I’ll sit awhile. Keep this young lady company.
Julie now turns, goes back to Olivia as well.
Julie I’ll stay too. You said it’s just a little while. So, why not.
Jason To be honest, there’s no way of knowing how long this is all going to last.
Julie (sharp) No there isn’t, is there?
Jason, whose tone has been jocular throughout, suddenly turns full-bore threatening.
Jason Are you people kidding me. You’ve done nothing but bitch and complain since you got here. Now I hold the door open for you, and you pull this crap. For this friggin whore.
Julie You won. You people fucking won. Why are you still so angry?
Jason What you said before, about being marginalized, discarded, you got that right.
Julie and Russell realize they’ve been recorded. They glance around for cameras.
Jason C’mon pops, you don’t need these losers.
Michael Actually, I might as well wait too.
Jason Are you FUCKING kidding me, you stupid cuck. We’re not playing around here. This isn’t a feel good after-school special.
Michael I think we get that.
Russell But this young lady, she’s frightened, so for now, we’ll just stay with her.
Jason This could take a lot longer than you realize.
Julie No, we know. So… until it ends, we’re just going to be here for each other.
Union Square Incident premiered on November 14, 2016 as part of The 24 Hour Plays on Broadway (Mark Armstrong, Executive Director; Tina Fallon, Founding Producer) at the American Airlines Theatre. It was directed by Elena Araoz with the following cast: Ashlie Atkinson, Jason Biggs, Michael Cerveris, Russell G. Jones, Olivia Washington and Julie White.
Warren Leight’s plays include Side Man (Tony Award), No Foreigners Beyond This Point (Drama Desk nomination), Glimmer, Glimmer and Shine (ATCA nomination). In TV he’s been the Showrunner and Executive Producer of Law and Order: SVU (Imagen, NAACP, and Prism Awards), In Treatment (Peabody Award), Lights Out, and the Edgar-winning Law and Order: Criminal Intent.
Jason Biggs and Ashlie Atkinson in “Union Square Incident”
Lights up on a bare room with a few benches and one door upstage left or right. We will learn it’s a holding pen of some sort. On one bench, a black man, RUSSELL, is seated. His pockets have been emptied and turned inside out. He has no belt or shoelaces. He’s stressed out. In a corner, rocking back and forth, ASHLIE, a Brooklyn activist, is clearly in a deep state of distress. She doesn’t even notice now as the door opens. And MICHAEL, a middle-aged, Upper West Side white male, enters. Pockets turned inside out. No belt. He tries to bargain with JASON, the bro-guard, at the door.
Michael If I could just have my phone, for a second. My wife is, she’s not well. She’s been anxious ever since the… I need to let her know where I am.
Jason As soon as everything’s cleared up, you can make a call.
Michael She’ll be worried. I need to let her know where I am..
Jason I’m sure she’ll be fine. Okay, pops. Just relax. (to Ashlie) Hey you, my twitchy friend.
Jason goes to Ashlie, who is startled by his touch. He motions her toward the door. She’s broken.
Jason Guess what?
Ashlie I give up.
Jason That’s all we wanted to hear. And now, let’s see that smile of yours, from your Avi. (He mimics her Avi smile) You are free to go.
Ashlie Really. That’s it?
Jason (for everyone’s benefit) I told you, if you have nothing to worry about, you have nothing to worry about.
Jason walks Ashlie out. The door closes in Michael’s face. He looks around.
Michael Where am I?
Russell I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the Tombs. Some place new they must have set up.
Michael New place?
Russell I thought we went over a bridge. And it feels kind of… off the grid. I imagine they want these places out of public view.
Michael C’mon, it’s a little soon for all that to be happening. Don’t you think.
Russell They knew they were going to win. They must have had it in the works.
Michael You know, no offense, you sound a little… paranoid.
Russell Okay, so what do you think is going on? We’re like, being punked for a Prank TV show.
Michael I don’t think we’re under arrest.
Russell Not officially. They’re supposed to tell you if you’re under arrest. They tell you anything?
Michael I was marching. Up from Union Square. They said everyone move to the sidewalk. I tried to move, but it was crowded, before I could get there, these two guys grabbed me –
Russell Were they in uniform?
Michael No. Suits.
Russell Could be FBI? Or some bullshit Task Force.
Michael They put me in a van. Then here. They took my wallet. My cell phone.
Russell Did you shut it down first?
Michael No. I mean, he asked for my cell — he said it was protocol.
Russell You got to shut it down. And have a strong password — they’re probably putting your photos through facial recognition.
Michael It’s mostly just pictures of my kids.
Russell Also going through your emails, your social media, your texts. And every place you’ve been is geo-tagged. Unless you’ve been using a Tor browser, or a two-factor authentication on –
Michael My wife and I share an AOL account. I don’t think we ever set that –
Russell AOL? Nah… I don’t think you did.
Michael Anyway, they can’t go through the email… not without a warrant.
Russell I wish I had a pen right now. I keep a little list. I call it “funny shit white people say.”
Michael Cerveris, Russell G. Jones and Julie White in “Union Square Incident”
The door opens again. JULIE walks in. A very angry, put-together middle-aged white woman. She has no purse; if wearing pants, her pockets are turned inside out. No jewelry. Except for a Hillary button. She’s going at it, with Jason, who’s annoying the fuck out of her.
Julie You can’t actually do this, you know. You can’t detain people without –
Jason Ma’am, instead of being all upset, just try to relax –
Julie Relax. Relax and enjoy it? You can’t do this!! I am a lawyer. I know my rights.
Jason No one is violating anyone’s rights. You’re not being detained.
Julie So I’m free to leave?
Jason Just as soon as everything is cleared up. Are we good.
Julie NO, bro, we’re not good. And if you can’t talk to me, without patronizing me, I’d rather you not talk to me at all.
Jason Suit yourself. Have a nice day.
He closes the door on her. She looks around.
Julie That little pissant son of a bitch. “You’re not being detained.” He just lied straight to my face.
Russell If nothing else, they have turned that into an art form.
Russell gets up, as Michael helps Julie to a bench.
Julie This really is completely illegal.
Michael You’re a lawyer?
Julie What are you?
Michael An aging liberal.
Russell With an AOL account.
Julie Ha! You two were marching?
Russell I saw them taking this girl down. In her twenties. I started to video it –
Julie Which is perfectly legal.
Russell For now. And… I end up here. I don’t know what happened to the girl.
Julie These motherfuckers… “Don’t worry, he doesn’t mean those things he’s saying. It’s just to get elected. There’ll be checks and balances. It can’t happen here. It won’t happen here.”
Michael Guys, take it easy, nothing is happening here, with all due respect –
Julie Don’t fucking say that. Anytime any man anywhere says all due respect, it means he has absolutely no respect for you, or for that matter, any woman.
Michael You’re sounding a little hys — (catches himself)
Julie Hysterical. Go ahead, say it. Go on.
Michael looks to Russell, hoping for what, male support?
Russell Don’t look at me. I’m with her.
Julie Do you know what this year has told me. I don’t matter. The only reason a woman ever matters is her vagina, and now that mine’s too old and He doesn’t want to grab it, it’s okay for me to be marginalized or discarded or vilified. Even by other women.
She breaks down. Russell awkwardly comforts her.
Michael I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to negate –
Russell Give her a moment.
Julie No… tell me. What weren’t you trying to negate?
Michael Your feelings. It’s just… we’re all feeling raw. But, I have to believe things aren’t going to be as bad as everyone says. It’s easy to demonize the other side. To assume the worst. If we could try to understand where they are coming from –
Russell Oh I know where they’re coming from. The KKK, the FBI, the KGB — this wasn’t an election, it was a coup d’etat.
Michael No… it was an election. We lost. They won.
Julie First of all, they didn’t win. Second of all, they rigged it.
Michael Now who do you sound like? It’s not rigged. He tapped into something.
Russell American Homegrown Racism, brewed to perfection.
Michael Yeah, some of that. And some genuine anger, and frustration. And — let’s be fair. She had a lot of baggage.
Julie Don’t you dare. Do not start with that false equivalence bullshit. He’s a draft dodgin’, tax dodging, climate-change-denying racist misogynist, who will deport your family and potentially destroy the world, or at least all civil liberties, but — hey, how about those emails.
Michael It wasn’t just the emails. Or the KGB or misogyny or racism or even her not having a message. It was a perfect storm.
Julie White in “Union Square Incident”
The door opens again. And now OLIVIA, a young black woman enters. She’s a mess, she’s been crying. She’s bruised, clothes a little ripped.
Jason Here we go. Nice and easy.
Olivia I want to see him. Why can’t I see him.
Jason Why don’t you just sit down. Let your friends here take care of you. (to the rest) Folks. This young lady’s had a bit of a hard day. Can you make some room for her.
Olivia all but collapses into Michael and Russell’s arms. They walk her down to the bench. Julie helps hold her there. She’s in some kind of shock.
Olivia They must have shot him. He might be dead.
Michael No one’s been shot. That’s not going on –
Russell and Julie glare at him.
Julie Do any of us have any idea what’s going on? (off Michael) I don’t think so. So how about we ask her what happened to her, instead of telling her?
Michael (chastened) What… happened?
Olivia They were putting some people in these pens. You know, with the metal rails. And my boyfriend, he noticed two of them weren’t on right, so he worked them apart. We squeezed through, and ran. Down the block, and right into this group of, I don’t know, counter-protesters. I guess. They came like, out of nowhere.
Russell (sotto) Or not.
Olivia They saw us, started chanting all kinds of names. By then the Security People were behind us, but instead of stopping them, they let the mob beat on him, and pull on me. Grabbing at me, everywhere. Finally one of the Security says, that’s enough, fellas. And they stop. Part like the Red Sea. Security took my boyfriend away, he was bleeding bad from the head.
Julie I’m so sorry.
Olivia We weren’t even marching. Just came up out of the subway at Union Square and it was on. I tried to tell them that, but –
Russell It doesn’t matter. Wrong race, wrong place, wrong time.
Michael I can’t believe this — it can’t be — this isn’t happening. Not in New York. New York is different. You heard the Governor, he said it would be a sanctuary.
Russell And you think the new regime is just gonna be ok with that.
Michael Yeah. I do. I know my city, I know my county.
Julie So we’re all paranoid, and it’s just a little swing of the pendulum. And nobody’s rights are going to be taken away…
The door opens. Jason comes in, with a big smile on his face. He has a RED BAG for Julie. A TIE for Michael. Cell phones, belts for Michael and Russell.
Jason Okay. That didn’t take so long did it.
He hands Julie, Michael, and Russell some of their possessions back.
Michael We’re okay to go?
Jason Like I said, if you have nothing to worry about, you have nothing to worry about. Sorry for the inconvenience. What we’re dealing with, there are a lot of moving parts. But cut to the chase, there’s no reason to detain you any longer.
Julie You said we weren’t being detained.
Jason (almost laughing) Are you sure I said that? Either way, it’s in the past. Right?
Russell (looks at cell phone) My photos have been removed.
Jason Oh have they. I’m sorry about that. It must have bounced around a bit.
Julie (checking bag) I had a cell phone, where is it.
Jason If it turns up, we know where you live. Anyway, I know you all don’t want to be here any longer than you have to, so let’s not worry about the little losses, okay.
The four look at each other.
Michael Guys…
Russell Fuck it, let’s go. (Russell looks to Olivia, who may be in shock. He goes to help her up.) C’mon, sweetheart, the door’s open.
Jason Actually. Not so fast there. Right now, it’s open for you three.
Russell You said we were all free to go.
Jason Did I say all? I don’t think I said all. She’s had a rough day, we just want to make sure we know, and she knows what’s what before she goes home. Nothing bad’s going to happen.
Julie But she will be going home.
Jason Everyone’s a winner here. So many winners. Believe me. Eyes on the prize everyone. (to Michael) I know you want to call your wife, she must be worried sick.
Jason leads, Michael starts to follow. Then Jason notices Russell and Julie are looking at each other.
Jason Folks, operators are standing by. Make your move.
Russell I believe I’ll sit awhile. Keep this young lady company.
Julie now turns, goes back to Olivia as well.
Julie I’ll stay too. You said it’s just a little while. So, why not.
Jason To be honest, there’s no way of knowing how long this is all going to last.
Julie (sharp) No there isn’t, is there?
Jason, whose tone has been jocular throughout, suddenly turns full-bore threatening.
Jason Are you people kidding me. You’ve done nothing but bitch and complain since you got here. Now I hold the door open for you, and you pull this crap. For this friggin whore.
Julie You won. You people fucking won. Why are you still so angry?
Jason What you said before, about being marginalized, discarded, you got that right.
Julie and Russell realize they’ve been recorded. They glance around for cameras.
Jason C’mon pops, you don’t need these losers.
Michael Actually, I might as well wait too.
Jason Are you FUCKING kidding me, you stupid cuck. We’re not playing around here. This isn’t a feel good after-school special.
Michael I think we get that.
Russell But this young lady, she’s frightened, so for now, we’ll just stay with her.
Jason This could take a lot longer than you realize.
Julie No, we know. So… until it ends, we’re just going to be here for each other.
Having spent 13 of the past 21 hours embedded at the American Airlines Theatre with The 24 Hour Plays, I’m reaching my natural state of exhaustion, without the participatory exhilaration of pending performance to boost my energy. But here are images from the latter group of plays on tonight’s bill, once again with the caution that these may not be the costumes, props or lighting that will end up on stage in just two hours time.
The best laid plans: any effort to write meaningfully about being embedded with The 24 Hour Plays will have to wait. All I can manage to do is process some of the many photos I’ve taken – and share them with you even in advance of the performance.
Mind you, these are rehearsal photos, with actors wearing their own clothes, some temporary costumes and some outfits that will appear on stage this evening at 8. The lighting was in constant flux as spacing rehearsals took place regardless of whether the lights were on or off, swirling disco lights or a dedicated single instrument. So these aren’t reflective of what will be seen, but of works in progress, possibly never seen like this again.
Having long been intrigued by the 24 hour play concept, it was a stroke of fortune that when I affiliated with The New School a year ago, I was provided with office space that is shared with the official 24 Hour Plays. While we occupy the same small spot, we’re not affiliated. That said, it’s impossible for us to not know what the other is up to much of the time. In proximity, I saw possibility.
Beginning at 9 pm on November 13 and continuing until roughly the same time on the 14th, I’ve been afforded access to every bit of The 24 Hour Plays on Broadway process, to report and photograph as I see fit. At this point, late morning on the 14th, it’s quite clear that I had no idea what I was tackling, in terms of numbers, time, space, and so on. It’s overwhelming. Photographing rehearsals taking place in three different buildings? Read-throughs taking place as other shows, barely read through, are on stage doing spacing rehearsals? Writing live blog posts and editing photos while keeping up? And I certainly didn’t have the stamina to stay through the night as casts were chosen and plays were written.
Patrick Wilson
So this first post covers only the meet and greet on Sunday evening: meetings of old friends, actors approaching other actors who they’ve always admired but never met, staff getting necessary details to facilitate the compressed production schedule.
During the meet and greet, each actor, director and playwright introduced themselves, but they had also been asked to bring a item or two to contribute to the production, and a piece of clothing as well. They were also asked if they had any special talents they’d like to use, as well as anything they’ve never done on stage but have always wanted to do. Here’s a highly selective sample of images and comments from the meet and greet, but in the order in which they were spoken.
Aasif Mandvi
Justin Bartha, actor: “I can do an OK Jerry Seinfeld.”
Jason Biggs, actor: “I’m shite at accents.”
David Krumholtz, actor, contributed a framed image of the Mona Lisa with a cat head.
Hansol Jung
Joanna Christie, actor: “I just want to shout expletives.”
Paul Schneider, actor: “I’ll make you better by dancing.”
David Greenspan, actor: “I can jump rope for 20 minutes straight.”
Shakina Nayfack
Michael Chernus, actor: “I’ve never played drunk, but I’m afraid of that.”
Marin Ireland, actor “I’ll take what you throw at me.”
Bess Wohl, playwright: “I didn’t know about bringing a costume, so…nudity.”
Dick Scanlan and Alicia Witt
Hugh Dancy, actor: “I’m not a bad whistler.”
Shakina Nayfack, actor: “I’m a trans woman, but I’d like to just play a woman.”
Olivia Washington, actor: “I can make shapes with my tongue.”
Christopher Oscar Peña, Patricia McGregor and David Diggs
Ukweli Roach, actor, brought a “Max onesie” from Where The Wild Things Are.
Alicia Witt, actor: “I can do whatever you throw at me.”
Warren Leight, playwright: “I was here 10 days after 9/11. We’re in the right place tonight.”
Julie White
Carolyn Cantor, director, brought a pair of angel wings.
Rachel Dratch, actor: “If you need a big dramatic moment, I’m not your woman.”
David Lindsay-Abaire, playwright, brought a giant prop meat cleaver and an evil clown mask.
Warren Leight
Genevieve Angelson, actor: “I’m really good at giving a bat mitzvah girl a speech – ‘You haftorah was amazing!’”
Grace Gummer, actor: “I brought a guitar, but I can’t play it.”
Anson Mount, actor: “I’ve always wanted to play Joel Osteen…he is smooth. Or Rasputin.”
Anson Mount and Jenna Ushkowitz
Jenna Ushkowitz, actor: “I can do a baby sound with my voice.”
Julie White, actor: “I’ve worked with a lot of fake babies.”
Michael Cerveris, actor: “I’d like to get to the end of the play with the girl, ideally alive.”
Justice Smith
Justice Smith: “I’d like to play a sociopath who falls in love, or an old person in a young person’s body.”
Christopher Oscar Peña, playwright, brought a Marge Simpson rubber duckie.
Patricia McGregor, director, brought an hour-old piece of fried chicken.
Olivia Washington
Daveed Diggs, actor: “I fall really well.”
For rehearsal photos of plays by Warren Leight, Christopher Oscar Peña and Jonathan Marc Sherman, click here.
For rehearsal photos of plays by Hansol Jung, David Lindsay-Abaire and Bess Wohl, click here.
How to describe how I’ve felt this week? In approximate order: anxious, worried, heartsick, afraid, resolved, exhausted, embraced. But it wasn’t until this morning that I felt something that made me break into a wide grin, while sitting alone in an office watching YouTube.
It is well known by now that I am a Hamilton partisan, and exist unofficially at the fringes of show’s orbit due to my near-obsessive recordings of the outdoor #Ham4Ham shows. As a result, people constantly share articles and videos about Hamilton with me – and even with those and the ones I see on my own, I’m sure there are plenty I miss.
So when I clicked play this morning, on a video sent by a friend I’ve known since we started going to religious school at age five or six, I expected something sweet and well meaning, but probably a bit forced and amateurish. Yet as I said, I started smiling and then downright grinning as it played. And that’s no small achievement, because the video was obviously set within a synagogue, and I have had a complex and difficult relationship with my faith since I was young, and it was exacerbated by my mother’s death 12 years ago.
Whatever my intellectual feelings may be about my extensive religious training, I remember so many of the prayers and songs and, at times of loss, I still take comfort in the ritual and the words, both in Hebrew and in English. So this resetting of “Adon Olam,” the closing hymn at many Jewish services, to the tune of “You’ll Be Back,” was so unexpected and well-done that my only response was surprised joy.
Now I understand that many people who see this might say, ‘Well, I’m not Jewish’ or ‘I don’t speak Hebrew,’ and want to move on. Well the fact is, while I can repeat Hebrew words that have been recited to and by me for decades, I don’t speak Hebrew either. On those occasions now when I do find myself at a service, typically for bar and bat mitzvahs and for funerals, I have to look at the English translation every time if I want to know what I’m saying.
Here’s a bit of what “Adon Olam” says:
The Lord of the Universe who reigned
before anything was created.
When all was made by his will
He was acknowledged as King.
And when all shall end
He still all alone shall reign.
He was, He is,
and He shall be in glory.
And He is one, and there’s no other,
to compare or join Him.
Without beginning, without end
and to Him belongs dominion and power.
To use the melody of King George’s song from Hamilton puts a new spin on the prayer and on the power of a King as seen in the musical. It creates an intersection of the ancient and the present, words of unknown Jewish authorship that are centuries old with the music of a truly humane and talented Latinx man from in the heights, Lin-Manuel Miranda.
In sending the video my way, my friend asked that I share it with Lin. I will, but I want to share it with all of you too. Shalom. Peace.
P.S. Thanks to Jane Lipka Helfgott for sending this my way, kudos to Cantor Azi Schwartz, and mazel tov to Zoe Cosgrove on her bat mitzvah.
I wish that I could write a play, but I haven’t the talent. I wish that I could compose a musical score, but I haven’t the gift. I wish that I could dance, but I have neither the freedom in my body nor the discipline to train. I can sing, a bit, but only well enough to entertain myself on long car rides. So because of my deep admiration for the people who can do these things, because of how they uplift me, move me, teach me, I go to the theatre.
On this post-election morning of November 9, I am reminded that the theatre is my America, because it embraces a multiplicity of stories, of possibilities, of harsh realities and of unimaginable dreams. Its stories are the stories I want to have told, its songs are the songs I want to sing while driving on an autumn day. It is the place where I meet and commune with people on stage and in the audience, inclusive of all ages, genders, sexualities, races, ethnicities, or disabilities. I don’t look to the theatre for escape, but for engagement, which includes the potential for epiphany and joy.
Theatre is where I learn about the world, but even more importantly, the people of that world. In just the past two weeks, the theatre has taken me into the lives of factory workers in today’s Pennsylvania, into the world of Vietnamese refugees discovering America in the 1970s, into apartheid-era South Africa in 1950, where I watched a tragedy play out an inexorably as it did when I first witnessed the same story 34 years earlier. Theatre is my travel, my transport, my time machine.
Yes, I awoke today, after little sleep, in despair. Then I embraced someone I love, and while my worries were unabated, I was reminded that whatever is to come, I do not face it alone. Tonight, I will go to the theatre, and while I don’t expect that the audience will hug and kiss one another for comfort or in solidarity, we will be gathering in the collective embrace of theatre. That tonight’s show was created by a friend of 30 years duration will connect me with the work above and beyond what I might feel simply as a member of the audience. I will go to the theatre again tomorrow night, and the night after that – and then again the night after that.
It has been said that a great many works seen on stage over the past 15 years have been post-9/11 plays. That is not merely referring to the calendar, but to the mindset – that directly or obliquely, so much theatre has been grappling with that terrible tragedy. Did yesterday mark the start of a new era in the work created for the theatre and elsewhere in the arts as well? Intentionally or not, I think it did.
More importantly, I think it must. While our country is divided and we have just elected a man who stoked that divisiveness, we don’t know what’s going to come next, or what the next four years have in store. Pundits and politicians will spin their stories, but based upon the just completed campaign, it will become increasingly difficult to know the difference between truth and lies, between fact and conjuncture, between assured prediction and stark reality.
Because I cannot make art, I look to artists to interpret the world for me, in ways that go to the core of who I am, perhaps challenging my assumptions and at other times affirming my beliefs. Because I cannot make art, I have spent my life in support of it, in one way or another, hopefully helping others to create, and still more to understand it and participate in it. At times, that has required me to challenge authority that seeks to diminish the arts, to deny the arts to others, to reduce the arts to merely inoffensive diversion.
As I have watched this political campaign unfold, I have often said that I expected challenges to art, to theatre, to only increase, parallel to the political divisions that have been set into high, ugly relief over the past year and a half. With the election over and the outcome determined, I’m now all but certain that we will see creative expression targeted as we have not seen for a number of years.
No one can tell an artist what to create, or how to create it. But on this morning when so many people I admire and respect, who have brought so much into my life with their gifts, are reacting in shock and profound dismay, I turn to them and say that while colored maps and percentage points may dishearten you, we need you as much as ever, if not even more than before. We believe in you. Speak your truths for those who hunger for them. Mix the divisions of red and blue into a vibrant purple. Tell us about the lives of people we do not know, but should. And we will fight for your right to tell them and our right to see them, hear them, dance them and sing them.
The great work has gone on for many centuries. We can still learn from the ancient Greek theatre artists. Today it begins yet again. We must learn from you. Tell us a story. Lead us to a better America and a better world.
November 7th, 2016 § Comments Off on Jeanine Tesori: “Press Against The Thing That Divides Us” § permalink
On November 4, composer Jeanine Tesori was the keynote speaker at the fourth annual “Stage The Change: Theatre as a Social Voice” event, co-sponsored by the Tilles Center at Long Island University and the Happauge Public Schools. Below are some selections from Tesori’s talk and demonstration, inevitably with the musical sections removed, and with sections condensed and edited for clarity. This represents only a portion her presentation to well over 500 area high school students. What was most striking was how much she spoke not about what she has done and achieved, but how the students in attendance can approach their lives, what they can do, and what they can achieve.
* * *
There is no difference between the world and what we bring onto the stage. Therefore, if you are in theatre, if you are in the arts, you are a citizen of the world. Your job is to reveal the thing. You are agents, and not so secret, about what the message is.
We are more alike than we are unalike. On a cellular level, if you look at the earth as a giant cell, it always wants to divide – always, always, always. That’s how cells get to be two cells – you learned it in biology, mitosis. It pulls apart and it divides. The world is going to want you to divide, however you divide it up, that is what it’s going to want you to do. Your job as a citizen, as an artist, as a filmmaker, as playmaker, as an activist, as an actor, is to unite. Press against the thing that divides us.
You are here as artists to ask how, why, when, where. Your job is about how you listen to something and find out the why. We are storytellers.
We wait to spend time with people so that they can bring their authentic self to the stage. What are the stories that we tell about other people before we wait for them to sing, or speak? What are the stories that other people think about us based on a silhouette – large, tall, small, a color, green, blue white. Immigrant, emigrant. What are the stories that we’re telling each other?
Let’s challenge ourselves as storytellers to be authentic about the stories we’re telling, the stories that we’re telling ourselves about other people. That’s one lesson about how we learn. Part of the learning is to confront a part of ourselves that we’re not so proud of. That’s the way through it.
How do we divide, how do we unite? How do we listen, how do we learn? There’s a way that we can unite, and the way is often really surprising.
* * *
Theatre will never die because stories will never die. You can have film – and I love film, film is amazing – but it does not require your presence in order to be. Theatre requires participation.
* * *
Poems for me aren’t lyrics. There’s a difference between a poem and a lyric. I think it’s because a poem exists on its own, it doesn’t need anything. A lyric is helped by music.
* * *
When I get a script, I try to understand why do I have to write it. Those things we were talking about are the questions I ask myself. Why do I want to spend five years? It’s why it’s really good to look at your life, be the author and the authority in your life, because you’re writing it. You self-assign everything that you do, you do for yourself in the way that your teachers [do], you end up teaching yourself. That’s what’s going to end up happening. That started happening with me. I started diagnosing things and asking myself first, why should I write it, what’s in me to write it, and why should I spend five years of my life on it?
Time is the only thing we run out of, and I’m really aware of it now, just because of my age I’m super-aware of it. So I want to be aware when I look at a story and I think, why am I writing it, why should I write it, what do I have to give to it? What is the metaphor?
The metaphor is the thing that makes us more alike than different. It’s what I call the mom clause – it’s why my mom would care. When I write a show I hope my mom will come and be moved by it. Why would she find it funny? My mom is not in theatre, she doesn’t understand, she still asks me what I’m directing. That’s what I really use. I use that idea of why would a really large group of people, why would they want to come see this?
That’s what I would ask you to ask yourselves: what is interesting about this article, what does this article make me feel, what do I have to say about this article that reveals who I am, because you know what? You are unlike anyone else. I know that sounds so ‘poster in a ninth grade classroom’ but it’s really true. No one else is going to write that piece like you’re going to write it. You’re going to write it in a certain way. So that’s really the question: what do I think? What makes me me? I know that all of this sounds so cornball.
Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead, look up some of his quotes, he had the most amazing quotes. He said don’t be the best, be the only person who does what you do. So it’s not about competing or comparing what you’re doing to that other person. It’s about taking what it is, that whoever you believe in, the divine spark I call it, you can call it something, bring it all to that essay, to everything that you do. The answers will be surprising then.
Make it yours, that’s the first thing. The second thing is: write bad ideas down. Don’t not write the bad ideas. The bad ideas are the gateway drug to the good idea.
New York, NY, November 3, 2016 – Music students at The Juilliard School gave a well-received sunrise performance – “God Loves Jazz” – this morning on West 65th Street, on the eastern side of the entrance to the storied performing arts academy on the Lincoln Center campus. Their instrumentation included brass, wind and string performers. The Juilliard contingent was joined by students from the nearby La Guardia High School for Performing Arts, who added vocals to certain musical selections, which included “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Amazing Grace,” “When The Saints Go Marching In” and “Take The A Train.”
Almost as if to disrupt the spirited, seemingly spontaneous concert, a trio of outlandish performance artists, purporting to represent a so-called “church,” took up a location opposite the students, on the west side of the entrance, each brandishing multiple placards quoting select bible verses and claiming that God opposes, specifically, LGBTQ and Jewish people. One wore a hoodie displaying the URL of a website which is apparently dedicated to the principle that God hates America. Fortunately, despite the strenuous yet charmless vocal efforts of the “church” group, the Juilliard performance more than overwhelmed any effort to disrupt it.
A number of New York police officers attended the performance to insure that the sidewalk would not be blocked for passers-by. To achieve that objective, the NYPD cordoned off each performance group using the often-seen “bicycle rack” dividers. The three “church” representatives, who seemed to revel in their one-note portrayals, were spaciously accommodated with room to spare in their pen. The Juilliard/La Guardia contingent grew sufficiently large that the police obliged them by twice expanding their area, which was initially equal in dimension to that provided to the “church,” and still other students massed outside of it. At its peak, roughly five dozen people were in the Juilliard performance space.
A highlight of the Juilliard set was a new arrangement of a vintage pop tune. Quite remarkably, sheet music revealed that the piece was titled in tribute to the so-called church, almost as if the simultaneous performance was expected. Its name: “Rick Rolling The Westboro Baptist Church.”
The students may well have been missing class or giving up precious sleep to entertain the public, but their exuberance and skill met with great approval from those who were lucky enough to happen upon the performance. The music even inspired one Juilliard dance student to display her skills by dancing on a bench just across 65th Street from the musicians. As the for the “church,” their reactionary, confrontational act, which they have been performing around the country, could be mistaken as a parody of small minded hate group, if only there were any levity or wit to their repetitive text.
While the streets of New York are open to all for self-expression, The Juilliard students showed that they are more than ready for the appraisal of both New York residents and tourists. The competing act met with no visible or vocal approval. The ragtag performance art “church” troupe might do well to go back to where they came from, where perhaps they might find more like-minded audiences.
Addendum, November 3, 12:30 pm: I did not mean to cast aspersions on Kansas, as I truly had no idea where this “church” is actually from until I received some responses to this post. I was employing the time-worn riposte, “Why don’t you go back to where you came from?” figuratively, not literally.
We are more alike than we are unalike. On a cellular level, if you look at the earth as a giant cell, it always wants to divide – always, always, always. That’s how cells get to be two cells – you learned it in biology, mitosis. It pulls apart and it divides. The world is going to want you to divide, however you divide it up, that is what it’s going to want you to do. Your job as a citizen, as an artist, as a filmmaker, as playmaker, as an activist, as an actor, is to unite. Press against the thing that divides us.
Theatre will never die because stories will never die. You can have film – and I love film, film is amazing – but it does not require your presence in order to be. Theatre requires participation.
Time is the only thing we run out of, and I’m really aware of it now, just because of my age I’m super-aware of it. So I want to be aware when I look at a story and I think, why am I writing it, why should I write it, what do I have to give to it? What is the metaphor?
A number of New York police officers attended the performance to insure that the sidewalk would not be blocked for passers-by. To achieve that objective, the NYPD cordoned off each performance group using the often-seen “bicycle rack” dividers. The three “church” representatives, who seemed to revel in their one-note portrayals, were spaciously accommodated with room to spare in their pen. The Juilliard/La Guardia contingent grew sufficiently large that the police obliged them by twice expanding their area, which was initially equal in dimension to that provided to the “church,” and still other students massed outside of it. At its peak, roughly five dozen people were in the Juilliard performance space.
