On Location

This weekend, I felt like a professional director. I always aim for professionalism, but I often cannot help but feel like a young theatre artist who is playing “theatre company” with his most talented friends. This weekend, shooting the trailer for Medea down on Long Beach Island, my friends became professionals, and I was inspired.

Perhaps it was because we were on location, with perfect weather and knew that the cameras were rolling. Perhaps it is because many of us had worked together before, and we are getting a few steps closer towards an ensemble of actors that is happy to work with us on whatever kooky project we propose next. Or maybe we are simply growing into ourselves as people and artists and there’s a certain maturity that comes with age…although I would like to stay young and idealistic for another year at least.

When we came back from the beach one of the actors said, “It was an incredible experience, seeing artists creating the kind of art that you yourself want to be creating, and then also getting to be a part of it.” It was funny to hear this, because I felt the same way…I thought “yes, this is the quality of work we should be creating all the time”. Now, I have not seen any of the edited footage, and who is to say what the final product will look like, but even the clips we saw from each day (those are called dailies from what I’ve heard), I found myself taken aback. Much of the professionalism and tone of the weekend came from our unbelievably talented and professional film crew, which consisted of Danny Caporaletti and Dylan Frayser. These two film makers are not only talented artists, but some of the best collaborators I have ever worked with. The actors were all phenomenal and the beach was a star performer. I honestly could not have had a better introduction into film directing, I’ve caught the bug and you should keep your eyes peeled for even more. We will post some pictures of our shoot soon, as to whet your appetite for the finished trailer, which is slated to be released before the holidays take over!

-Ryan Emmons

Directing a Musical

CONGRESS IN SESSION

I am directing No.11’s first musical right now – The Elephant Man. We open in two weeks. The thing is – I’ve never directed a musical by myself before.

Musicals are an odd beast. People talk and walk around like normal and then WHAM! suddenly they’re singing. Singing and dancing serve no evolutionary function, to my knowledge, and yet, we all do it. And we enjoy watching and listening to other people do it. And The Elephant Man – The Musical is a celebration of this.

Going through the script, I have to decide what songs are “staged” and what are “choreographed”. Songs that are choreographed I have my brilliant Choreographer Simon Gunner create. Numbers and scenes that are staged, I wrangle with. But, outside of the delegation, what does it mean? No offense, dictionary.com, but you weren’t much help:

Staged–adjective
1. adapted for or produced on the stage.
2. contrived for a desired impression: It was a staged, rather than spontaneous, demonstration of affection.
3. occurring or planned to occur in stages: a staged increase in wages.

Choreograph–verb (used with object)
1. to provide the choreography for: to choreograph a musical comedy.
2. to manage, maneuver, or direct: The author is a genius at choreographing a large cast of characters.

I feel like I am doing both of these things when I direct and the line between dance and movement is blurry to me. And the fact of the matter is we have a very short rehearsal process for this show. So my choreographer can only do three dances. What do I do? More to the point, what do I have my actors do while they are singing? I know they need to be moving, but moving how? Doing what?

Ryan Emmons and I directed Bat Boy: The Musical a year ago. We did it in the style of German Expressionism. Simon also choreographed that show and created a half dozen Expressionist inspired dances for it. In one of the songs Ryan and I staged, we had all of the townspeople sitting in a circle happily working and then you realize they are making a noose and suddenly they’ve formed a mob and the noose is hanging from the rafters and Dr. Parker is trapped – all the while they’re singing. German Expressionism is about showing the inner life. Would these townspeople actually be hanging a noose? No. Is it how they feel inside? Yes. And isn’t a song just about showing how a character feels rather than exposition?

In talking to Ryan about The Elephant Man, I’ve said how I don’t know how to approach the songs. He said, “every musical number is either a dance or a noose – so find the noose”. So that’s my mission. In a way it’s so simple – that’s why it’s easy to forget. At their core, so much of directing and acting is about asking the right questions – “what is happening?”, “what do I want?”, “what is stopping me from getting what I want?”, “what is the scene about?”

And I’m going to stop looking at it as “staging”. Because I don’t know what that means – it sounds like glorified blocking. I need to direct these songs. And that means asking questions – questions of the script, questions of the actors, questions of the music. Sometimes the answers, the ropes, come easily – this song is about journeying to find what you want (Great! So this scene-song is movement, walking, running contrasted by expressionist moments showing what the characters want).

A musical is a big undertaking. You are blessed with many extra collaborators (and if you don’t view them as blessings, than you need different collaborators). It’s not about relinquishing power to the musical director or choreographer or film maker or costume designer or prop designer or actors or band, but about imparting your vision to them, igniting their imaginations by telling them you want it to look like an Al Hirshfeld caricature come to life, that it’s a simultaneous parody of and love song to the Broadway Musical.

And as daunting as directing a musical is, particularly when you have three weeks to do it, it’s still directing. And directing, in the Julie Congress dictionary is:

1. Having a clear vision you can impart to others
2. Asking the right questions
3. The ability to inspire your collaborators

Written by Julie Congress

Direct Consequences

As a director, every production you tackle is a different. Currently, I am co-directing (with Ryan, the Kander to my Ebb) No.11 Productions’ original play Claire and the Ornithological Shadow. After last night’s lackluster rehearsal, I feel I need to remind myself what it means to be a good director. Here’s what I think (and please, feel free to comment or disagree or question this, I would love to make this a discussion).

A director…

• Is organized and creates a focused rehearsal atmosphere that fosters ideas, growth, and play.
• Determines blocking and provides the creative team with a sturdy structure.
• Is keeper of the vision, creates the world of the play.
• Inspires the actors and creative team to do their best and makes sure no one feels slighted.
• Ensures that all of the elements create a cohesive production.
• Is never afraid to try an idea.
• Asks questions and provokes the imagination of the creative team.
• Is confident in their ideas and vision (without being closed off to suggestions).
• Finds the means to create onstage what they imagine in their head.
• Pays attention to every detail.
• Does his/her homework and researches all aspects of a show.
• Does not impose superfluous ideas/devices on a play. Every artistic decision should bring out and enhance what lies in the script.
• Acts for the good of the production.

Claire and the Ornithological Shadow has been a very different directing experience for me. First off, there’s no script. We’re creating this from scratch through the rehearsal process. Previously as a director, the script was my measuring stick and my source of inspiration, now the “script” is an amorphous idea I have to discover. Secondly, there are two directors and two actors. That’s a very odd proportion for me. And we’re rehearsing in our apartments, not a studio. And we’re all really good friends. It’s a weird rehearsal atmosphere and one we haven’t fully adjusted to. Thirdly, and what needs to be addressed most urgently, I’m not sure if we’re all on the same page. The world of the play exists in my mind, but, without a script, it is very difficult to know if the rest of the team sees it the same way. As directors working without a script, Ryan and I have to be all the more eloquent and clear in painting the landscape on which our terrific actors will play.

Don’t fear we’ve got two months to work out the kinks before the play opens and I know it is going to be great when it does. I in no way am casting any disparity on the gang at No. 11, they are wonderful! I just know that personally, as an ever-growing artist, I’ve still got a lot to learn and discover about this powerful, delicate craft called directing.

Written by Julie Congress

Direct Consequences

Yesterday, well this morning, we applied to the New York Frigid Festival with one of our next projects. Fingers are crossed all around that we get in and then we can announce exactly what we are planning. What I can say is that the next two projects planned have a very high “create from scratch” component. Risky for a director, actors and company perhaps, but one thing that is sure is that the experience and overall production will be entirely unique, fresh and new.

In this I see great benefits.

• Rights and royalties are not a problem
• A larger creative process
• More opportunity for collaboration

To name a few. For me, as a director, the greatest experiences I have had directing have been the most collaborative. I am looking forward to two such projects in a row and I feel that these shows will be an excellent opportunity for No. 11 Productions to establish a greater sense of it’s own aesthetic. I think it is critical for a new company to know what kind of theatre they are trying to make and to establish its style boldly and up front.

Written by Ryan Emmons