…And We’re Back!
It appears that my play, “Invincible Summer” will have it’s staged production after all.
To recap, “Invincible Summer” has had, to significantly understate the matter, an interesting history. After my very first staged reading, the play helped get me my very own theatrical agent (Earl Graham). In, 2019, the play was accepted for a theatre festival in Brooklyn, New York–but then Covid happened, and the festival never returned.
That was not the worst of it. Earl (and his husband, a short time later) both died of Covid, putting the agency and my status as a client in something of a limbo. Not only was that around the same time my mother passed away, the entire world was in the process of turning upside down. I was heartbroken at Earl’s loss, but we were surrounded by heartache and all of us were, frankly, in something of a limbo.
As things began to open up in 2021, I received a phone call from theatre director Dana Sachs. Dana had read my play, and wanted to stage it as a Zoom reading. I agreed, and Dana went to work casting, rehearsing, and then performing the play on Zoom. Another Zoom reading, with a different director and cast, was done later that summer by the Depot for New Play Readings. I was very happy with both readings, and took steps to improve the play.
In 2022, Dana called to tell me he has arranged to stage the play in a theatre is Cheshire, Connecticut. We had signed a contract, begun rehearsals, when the theatre changed their minds and cancelled the play. We tried again at another community theatre who wanted us to do the play with them. It looked like it was going to happen, but then the director of the organization was stricken with cancer, and no one else in the organization was willing to step forward and share some of her burden. As a result, that show never materialized.
In 2023, things began to look up: I discovered that the new agency that was reorganized following Earl’s death would retain me as a client. Then, another phone call from Dana–the Hole in the Wall Theatre in New Britain, Connecticut would stage “Invincible Summer” in May 2024.
Remarkably, most of the cast from that first Zoom reading–Mark Gilchrist, Christie Maturo, Allan Church, Frank Dicaro and Jack Levine are in the cast for the production. They have been augmented by Lois Church, Jerry Rankin, and Val Solli. Dana is directing, and his wife Cynthia Parisi will be our stage manager.
I don’t really have the words to describe how amazed I am that this group of individuals have stuck with this production through all of its ups and downs over the last three years. I wouldn’t have blamed any of them from walking away (and certainly didn’t for the few that did so). This company, though, has paid me and my work a tremendous honor, and I am grateful for every single one of them. I can’t wait to see them all on stage…finally.
See you in New Britain in May.
Geographic Drama
Back in 2017, my play “Archetypes in Rehab,’ made its debut at the Playhouse on Park theatre in West Hartford, Connecticut. I wrote it for the theatre’s “Play in a Day Festival” which means I wrote it overnight in the theatre on Friday and it was performed in front of an audience on Saturday night. Luckily, I was blessed with a remarkable cast: Moira O’Sullivan and Sarah Vasconcelos (nee Kozlowski). I also had a terrific director named Erik Bloomquist. They worked hard all day long and did an amazing job performing the play. The audience loved it.
I felt even though I had written it in one evening, that with some tweaking the play had a chance to be more than a one night stand. So I did a revision, and then posted it on New Play Exchange (NPX). In 2021, I received an email from, of all the places, the United States Army entertainment division. They had located the play on NPX, and informed me they would like to do four performances on an army base in Germany. And they would pay me royalties. It appears my instincts were correct.
But that’s not all.
Last month (coincidentally, during a staged reading of another play) I received an email from a theatre student in Washington state named Madison Moore. Madison also found my play on NPX, and asked permission to stage the play as her senior project at Central Washington State University. I was happy to agree, especially since Madison informed me that it would not be performed in a theater–she would instead find a “pop-up” location out in the town of Ellensburg. It all sounded great to me. Madison also very politely requested the elimination of one line. I agreed to that as well, and it made me rethink just how necessary the line is in the play. Madison will be directing the play this summer.
Thus, “Archetypes in Rehab” is easily my most produced play, but also my only one to be performed on two coasts and two continents. I cannot wait to find who else finds it on NPX–my money is on a Kabuki adaptation in Omiya, Japan.
Please put your own guesses in the comment section below.
Staging a Reading for “Save the Man”
If you are familiar with my blog or my work, you might know that my very first play reading was “Invincible Summer” back in 2016. “Summer” had two subsequent Zoom readings, and has come very close to production on three separate occasions. I’ve also had productions of one act plays, but it wasn’t until now that another full length play felt it was ready for a staged reading.
Set In 1950, “Save the Man” is a Western Shoshone teenager fleeing his boarding school hides in a barn owned by a family of Sikh immigrants, who each must risk their safety to trust the other. The play is based in part on the experiences of my grandfather, who was forced to attend an American Indian boarding school when he was a child.
The decision to stage the reading raised the questions of: where should we do it and with whom? Over the winter, I spoke with my friend Larry Leinoff, a terrific playwright who helped my stage the “Summer” reading seven years ago. When we were brainstorming a director who would be a good fit for the play, we both had the same name in mind: Celine Havard.
Celine is a director, actor, producer, and runs her own theatre company: the Alternative Theatre Company. While I didn’t know Celine well, she is a part of the network of theatrical professionals I have connected with over the last few years–indeed, Celine is the daughter of playwright Lezley Steele, who is the best writing teacher I have ever had. I was happy that Larry had confirmed my intuition, so all that remained was to approach Celine.
Happily, Celine was open to directing the reading, and most importantly, really liked the play. A relatively painless negotiation, some legal paperwork signed, and we were off and running. Celine recruited Dave Malinsky to be her assistant director and her son Lambert to be our stage manager. Celine also had access to a performance space–the Duke Ellington Room on Theatre Row in New York City. So, all we needed now was a cast.
Using Backstage.com, we posted notices and received many replies. Some turned in audition tapes, sent resumes, and did Zoom auditions. In April, we reserved space in Ripley-Grier studios for our in person auditions. This was the first time I had to enjoy this experience–in previous readings and productions casts were usually selected by actors known to the directors. It was exciting to be in Ripley-Greer, in the heart of the theater district, in a building filled with auditions, rehearsals, and choreography. The creative energy was palpable. For the first time, I felt like a professional playwright.
And after some bumps and scheduling difficulties, we had our cast: Sam Arthur, LLewellyn Connolly, Jagruti Deshmukh, Aish Divine, Natasha Jain, Sahil Kaur, Jake Lesh and Anuj Parikh. In the buildup to rehearsals, I worked with Celine and Dave to strengthen the script, and more ideas emerged from the rehearsal process. And then, on the evening of June 26, the staged reading.
I was incredibly impressed by the commitment of the cast, who put so much energy and passion into my work. They found aspects of the characters and the story I wasn’t even aware were present. Guided by Celine, they really made the story work on many levels, and the audience responded positively to the reading. It was also fascinating to hear from the audience what they thought worked and what they thought did not, and to hear from the actors how they approached the choices they made. I now have clear ideas on what I can do to improve the script, and prepare it for a possible future production. Hopefully, when I mention “Save the Man” again, that is what I will have to report.
The Prison of Belief
I have to admit, I have stolen this title from Lawrence Wright’s superb book about Scientology, “Going Clear.” Part of the reason this is on my mind is due to the fact that over the past few weeks I have been watching Leah Remini’s show on the Aftermath of Scientology, which she co-hosts with fellow former scientologist Mike Rinder. Mr. Rinder also frequently invokes that phrase since it patently describes what life is like as a scientologist.
If you aren’t familiar with Mike Rinder, he was a scientologist for 46 years–and was an important, high ranking member of the church until his departure in 2007. He was raised in Scientology as a child, and knew nothing else–his entire family were members. And when he left the church, his family (as is common practice) refused to have any contact with him and dismissed him as “evil” in media reports. In spite of this, Mr. Rinder has made a good life for himself, remarrying and having children, and devoting his life to educating the public about Scientology and assisting other members of the church who have departed and also been disowned by their families. Mr. Rinder is honest about the awful things he did in Scientology, and has worked hard to make amends with those he harmed. What I have learned about Scientology from Ms. Remini and Mr. Rinder reminds me of a quote from physicist Steven Weinberg: “With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil; but for good people to do evil – that takes religion.”
I bring all of this up because I think it provides insight into our current politics. The “Prison of Belief” is not confined simply to cultish institutions like Scientology, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the Unification Church (known as the Moonies). I think this prison can manifest itself today with the likes of QAnon, Proud Boys, and even benign sounding organizations like Moms for Liberty.
Many such conspiratorial organizations are not simply expressing a view or a vision of what society should look like that might be different from mine, or yours, and any number of people. Indeed, factions with differing visions of what the country or civilization should look like go back to the founding of the nation. Of course, there have always been extreme factions uninterested in compromise or having their thoughts enter the “marketplace of ideas” as Justice William O. Douglas would later put it. Such compromise was not possible because those who differed with the views of extremists were considered “enemies” “traitors” and, of course, “evil.” Historically, this was not always a cause for alarm, because such groups were fringe religious cults or hate groups largely confined to the margins (the Ku Klux Klan’s early 20th century resurgence being something of an exception).
Today, the margins have moved to the center of the page. QAnon has elected its adherents to Congress. The President of the United States implores the Proud Boys to “stand back and stand by.” Moms for Liberty candidates win school board races, and in one case in Georgia, fire a superintendent without cause. These groups bear a remarkable resemblance to Scientology and other cults–those that oppose them are satanists, a cabal of child traffickers, school officials “grooming” straight kids to become gay or trans. It is tempting to simply laugh them off, but they too are imprisoned by their beliefs. It is difficult–if not impossible–to have any sort of dialogue with individuals from these and like-minded organizations. Every counterexample is either a lie or more evidence of the conspiracy.
Of course, members of QAnon or Moms for Liberty don’t suffer the same consequences for leaving as those of Scientology. They are not necessarily cut off from all of their friends and family whilst trying to navigate through the world without an education or much in the way of life skills. Those who are contemplating a departure from Scientology know what the cost is, and that awareness often keeps them tethered. Whereas someone mired in QAnon is staying not because they fear the consequences of leaving, but because they believe they are correct. This, I think, is far worse.
Being a professional educator, I know that I am among those who are viewed as wicked, traitorous or abusive. The facts do not matter, and it is difficult to protest otherwise; as attorney Marc Elias says “there is no middle ground between an arsonist and a firefighter.” I would love to be able to say that there is a solution to this problem, or simply dismiss it as a select few, and comfort myself with the fact that these views are not majority opinions. As scientologists are a small number, so too are the Proud Boys and the Moms for Liberty.
But that’s the thing–there don’t have to be a lot. There just has to be enough.
The Big Tall Wish
We met at the trailhead of Mt. Willard in New Hampshire at 3:45 a.m. Myself, Darlene, Kelly the Justice of the Peace and Shado and Isabelle, the photographers. And it wasn’t just that we were meeting to begin a hike–we were literally all meeting for the first time.
What was perhaps most remarkable about today is that we were here at all. Throughout much of my five plus year relationship with Darlene it was clear to both of us that we didn’t want to get married. Not only did it lack emotional appeal for us, it also seemed impractical. We lived in different states, and until we retired we’d never be able to cohabitate–and retirement was still several years away.
Leah, Darlene’s oldest granddaughter, viewed the matter very differently. She definitely wanted us both to be married, and would occasionally bring it up, usually in the form of a question: are you going to get married? Do you think you will get married? This was often followed by Leah’s suggestions on what our wedding should be like (the Avengers themed wedding seemed to have the most appeal. To Leah, at least.). Even though we didn’t really give Leah any reason to be encouraged we were headed that way, we sometimes found ourselves discussing it. Absolutely not. Well, there would be some financial benefits. But that’s not a reason to get married. No way. What, we’re going to be married and live in different states? That’s stupid. Well, if we ever decide to do it someday–at some distant point in the future–it will just be you and I on a mountaintop.
And then one day last spring, perhaps because we stopped analyzing it, we decided to do it. Just because. Just because it felt right. On a lovely March afternoon in Rhinebeck, New York, we walked into Bread Alone cafe hungry for lunch, and walked out engaged. But this was going to be our secret. We were eloping. And we weren’t going to tell anybody until after we came down off the mountain.
But which mountain? Some Google searching and we settled on Mt. Willard, near Bretton Woods in New Hampshire. It looked beautiful, the hike seemed reasonable, and Darlene was born in New Hampshire. A perfect fit. What we needed now was a photographer and a justice of the peace that were game for an early morning mountain hike in the darkness to do a wedding. I would like to tell you it was difficult, but it really wasn’t: Shado and Isabelle are young, energetic, and outdoorsy, so they loved the idea. Kelly was an experienced hiker who lived twenty minutes away from Mt. Willard. We found them all on the internet–it was shockingly easy.
So there we all were, a bit awkward at first, hiking a mile and half up the mountain in the darkness. I had found a garment bag that folded up into a backpack, so my blazer and all of our other supplies fit perfectly in it. We hooked Darlene’s dress onto the backpack, then sherpa’d our way up Mt. Willard.
We changed into our marriage ware, and took a look at the mountaintop. It was perfect–the light, the clouds, the temperature–we could not have custom ordered a more ideal day. The beauty of the mountaintop immediately washed away any awkwardness between us all–it became instantly clear why we were doing this here. We all seemed overcome with joy, and all started to feel like friends.
Of course, no one was more joyous than Darlene and I. As you can see, we had wonderful photos, and Kelly did a terrific job with the ceremony. I have never been as deliriously happy as I was the day Darlene and I became husband and wife on that New Hampshire mountaintop.
Darlene and I have a tradition wherein on New Year’s Eve we light wish paper and watch it float up to the heavens as we silently make a wish. We discovered during this recent New Year’s ceremony that we both had the same wish a year ago.
And it did indeed come true.
A Disappointing Turn
I had mentioned in my previous post that my play “Invincible Summer” was being performed this fall at a local community theatre. Unfortunately, I have learned recently that the theatre had changed its mind about staging my play, citing the “inappropriateness” of my script for the theater’s target audience.
As you can imagine, this was quite the gut punch. Not only is it a grave disappointment to be told this, but how the theatre carried it out is perhaps the worst part. Back in June, a director I know called me to tell me that Nelson Hall Theatre in Cheshire, Connecticut had agreed to stage two performances of the play. The theatre’s entertainment director read and loved the play, and set aside a day in October for two performances. We knew Nelson Hall was a conservative institution, so I went to work doing some rewrites to satisfy objections they were likely to have. I had to remove some of the foul language and sexual references, and while there were some passages and dialogue I was sad to give up, I felt the play was still strong, and still worked as rewritten. I even had to change the ending, and decided what I came up with was even better than what I had. One of the things I learned writing plays for play-in-a-day festivals is that constraints can also be opportunities.
The director and I were happy with the changes, and we sent them off to the theatre at the end of June. In August, we began rehearsals, the tech and stage people at Nelson began working on the stage, sound and lighting, and the marketing department began working on the promotional materials. There was even a two week window left open on the theatre’s schedule for theatre rehearsals, tech week, and the performance. Everything was in motion–and then the plug was suddenly pulled.
But what really pissed us off was the fact that Nelson Hall had the script for two months, allowed all of those balls to be put in motion and then they finally decided to tell us they don’t want do it. Why the fuck couldn’t they have told us that in July? Or, at least given me the opportunity to address any further concerns they had in the script? But instead, they decided the best course of action was to handle it this way.
I guess I am not completely surprised by their reaction. A director who worked there once told me that he was directing “Arsenic and Old Lace” at Nelson and they asked him to take out the part where two engaged characters kiss because they were not married. My play also has a kiss between unmarried persons, references suicide, divorce, and includes a joke about a bris and another about an STD. So, from that perspective, I could see their objections–but then why agree to do the play at all? Especially when so many people–with whom they both contracted and whom they employ–had began working so hard.
I think the primary reason is that the entertainment director who contracted with us to do the play quit working at Nelson Hall this past summer. I think at that point the play lost its champion on the inside. Perhaps she thought she could navigate the play through those who would object. I suppose we’ll never know. One thing I do know: Nelson Hall’s supposed religious values clearly don’t include competence and treating people with whom they hire with respect.
And I do realize writing these words in public means I have ruined any chance of working with them again. However, it appears clear that my work will never be a good fit for them as it is. Thus, if I just burned my bridges, I have to say I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a fire more.
I don’t wish to leave it there, though, because there is good news: the director and the cast are very enthusiastic and really want to perform the play, so we are determined to find another venue. I can take the best of the earlier version of the play with the revisions I did for Nelson Hall and create a strong fusion of the scripts, especially if we find a theatre acutely aware of what century this is. I have to say I am touched by the energy and enthusiasm of the actors–their dedication honors my work in ways I could never truly express. I learned so much watching the director work with the actors, and I was moved to tears at one point because it became abundantly clear how much he truly gets my play–on every level. That was a new experience for me.
I am very lucky indeed to have such amazing, creative people interpret my work, and I look forward to the day we can be on a stage and share it with the world. Or at least, our little corner of it.
Note: I have intentionally left the name of the director and actors out of these piece, in case they wish to work for Nelson Hall again. I don’t want to ruin any future employment for them by being associated with my uh….shall we say, brutally honest critique?
Some Catching Up
I can’t believe it has been seven months since my last post! I can assure you that’s not because there has been nothing happening. Quite the opposite, in fact.
–I mentioned in an earlier post that I am working with filmmaker Ela Thier on the development of a television series. That work continues.
–Through Ela, I also enrolled in a writing/filmmaking mentorship program. That occupied me from early February until the end of July.
–Thanks to the mentorship program, I worked on a new revision of my screenplay “Season of Mists” and organized a table read in May.
–Thanks to the revisions for “Seasons,” it was a finalist in two contests: Table Read My Screenplay and the Mystic Film Festival.
–I also wrote the first draft of another feature screenplay. Currently at work on the second draft.
–Through my new friends in the mentorship program, I attended a film festival in Brooklyn and got to meet several of them in person–not just on a screen!
–I found out my stage play “Invincible Summer” is being staged for a production this fall. Rehearsals start this Saturday.
–In July, Darlene and I flew out to San Diego to take my mother’s ashes out to her final resting place in the Pacific Ocean.
–I attended three concerts (or five, really): Marillion weekend (that was three), Jon Anderson, and Belew, Fripp and Mastelotto–probably the closest to seeing King Crimson perform live as we’re going to get at this point.
–And I have certainly been paying attention to the madness that is gripping certain political sectors about Critical Race Theory, Moms for Liberty and the “grooming” of trans kids. I have many thoughts to share on these things as well…
–Oh, and Darlene and I eloped on a mountaintop in New Hampshire and had a honeymoon in Portugal!
All of these merit individual entries, and they are coming over the next few weeks. So please stay tuned–it will be worth it!
Thanks for sticking with me.
Millay Residency Photo Journal
Darlene and I are currently at our annual January writing retreat, after a one-year coronavirus induced hiatus. I decided to use this opportunity to do a final post on the Millay Arts residency we recently completed between Christmas and New Year’s Day.
Both of us took photos of the house in which we stayed and worked, and the grounds. A snowstorm simply enhanced that natural beauty that enveloped us. Several of the photos are shared below.
So there is our residency in photographs. I hope it give you a sense of what a magical week it was! I would return without hesitation.
How to Finish the Year
This past summer, Darlene and I applied for the Wintertide Residency at Millay Arts in Austerlitz, New York (near the Massachusetts line, just on the edge of the Berkshires). Millay Arts is located at Steepletop, the home of Pulitzer prize wining poet Edna St. Vincent Millay. The residency would be for the week between Christmas and New Years’ Eve, and we would each have our own studio in which to work. Happily, both of our applications were accepted, so we checked in here on Monday.
Darlene came with the intent to use her time to complete an extensive revision on her novel; I arrived to do research on the television series, as well as work on many of my own projects. Darlene set up in the writing studio, while I chose an artists’ studio. I have never written in an artists’ studio, but there was space and several tables upon which to spread out, and the floor was covered with the paint splotches. I relished being in a room that an aura of so much creativity. I did rewrites on two of my features, one on a television pilot, and another on a stage play. I did some work developing the story for a new feature–and got an idea for yet another, for which I free wrote an outline. And, of course, daily blog posts!
It turned out to be a superb residency for us both–we made significant progress on our work, enjoyed a daily walk to get out of our chairs, and as you can see the setting was beautiful. We also had the good fortune to share the space with Maine visual artist Jennifer Schmitt. Jennifer turned out to be both disgustingly talented and a lovely person.
As I write this, it is about ten in the morning on New Year’s Eve. We have to be out of here in about two hours, and while we have thoroughly enjoyed our time here, we are sad to see it end. Neither Darlene nor I are interested in leaving–we want to stay and write for as long as we can. Reality, however, has an annoying habit of beckoning. A beckon that cannot always be resisted.
2021 was challenging in so many ways. This was the perfect way to end it. Here’s hoping for a better 2022.
Critical Race Theory: Not Actually A Thing, Reprise
It was just five months ago I first wrote about this controversy. I am not fond of returning to topics in which I have made my views abundantly clear, but if these last few months have shown us anything it’s that this is not an issue that is disappearing anytime soon. It is futile to simply point out that Christopher Rufo and his cronies at the Manhattan Institute don’t know what Critical Race Theory actually is. As Rufo makes clear, he doesn’t care what it means. He just want to ensure that any culture war item he and other conservatives object to finds itself attached to it. In other words, his objection isn’t intellectual or even moral–it’s strategic.
Certainly, public education as a battlefield for the culture war is not exactly a new concept–we are fast approaching the 100 year anniversary of the Scopes Trial. The rise of the Moral Majority in the 1980s with the likes of William Bennett and Edwin Meese and their dire prognostications of A Nation at Risk almost pass for quaint four decades on.
So this isn’t new. But why is it happening now?
There are few possible explanations for this. The mainstreaming of Black Lives Matter has no doubt frightened some who were quite happy to dismiss the organization as a violent, fringe group. It is much harder to dismiss them as such when the name of their movement appears on your Amazon.com log in page. Those that are quite content never having to confront the challenges of racism often don’t take kindly to an insistent voice that reminds them of their moral obligation to do otherwise. Railing against Critical Race Theory and the teaching of antiracism and cultural diversity is a way back home–if we get those things (whether real or imagined) out of the school, we can go back to not thinking about it.
This may account for some of the backlash. But I don’t think that’s all or even most of it. To really get at the heart of what’s happening, we need to travel back to pre-COVID America, which was really just two years ago.
In pre-COVID America, there was a group of people called education reformers, who were desperately trying to dismantle the public school system. They wanted to replace it with vouchers, or private schools, or for profit charter schools. To do so, they had to emphasize the need for high stakes testing ( to manufacture the data of failure), demonize teachers unions as organizations that protected the jobs of child molesters, insist that enthusiastic young college graduates with no job protections were ideal teachers, and even better: you could be protected from the potential sex offender teaching your kid algebra by a face on a computer screen. This was all for the endgame of turning education into a profitable venture for investors.
Moreover, this approach was working, so much so that mainstream Democrats like Rahm Emmanuel, Cory Booker and…Barack Obama became enthusiastic supporters of the reformers’ agenda long before Betsy DeVos became Secretary of Education. It was looking good for the reformers.
Then the pandemic hit, and suddenly no one could go to their local school. And something remarkable happened–parents suddenly realized how difficult a job it was to be a school teacher, and perhaps teachers were not overpaid, lazy leeches on the taxpayer. Many teachers worked hard to engaged their students in distance learning, showed up at students’ homes with a Chromebook and donated food, organized end-of-year car parades, and dropped off personal, individually printed graduation signs to seniors stuck at home. In short, teachers started to become popular, and taxpayers started to think of their schools as the community centers they were always intended to be.
And everyone realized that distance learning should not be the future of education because it sucks.
So what were the reformers to do? Their entire agenda had been debunked by a coronavirus. They had a choice–admit they got it wrong and support local schools, or reframe their objections in a way that would galvanize a different kind of outrage. Spoiler alert–they picked the latter.
So the problem with schools now is that they are indoctrinating students with anti-racism (why teaching only a Eurocentric version of history does not count as indoctrination is never explained), forcing students to surrender their constitutional freedoms to mask mandates (which are usually put in place by state governors, but it’s much easier to harass school boards because they tend to lack armed bodyguards), and offering recognition of transgender students (which overall bothers parents way more than students). In other words, a channel for outrage and apprehension at a moment when large swaths of our population are overwhelmed with anxiety and feel an alarming lack of control.
You have to hand it to the reformers. They do know how to read the room. If only they would put their energy into actual problems with public education (poor funding, lack of qualified administrators, too much high stakes testing) they might become part of the solution, instead of generating most of the problems.
But that approach won’t make any profits for investors.
Danger Is My Business 