March 2, 2008

Bright Sunday morning.

In terms of attendance, Hat has been our most successful play. I don’t understand it, but I don’t mind it. I think it is, of the three, the script which rolls along without a glitch, almost actor-proof, almost inevitable. It’s where I want to launch from as a playwright from this point on. It felt like silk to me.

Ryan Madden posts a detailed, very professional and plausible critique of the technical aspects of Gilgamesh. It’s not a particularly flattering assessment, but one is flattered when someone takes the time. I realize that I am worse (or better) than others at overlooking technical shortcomings; usually I’m so wrapped up in the words or the acting that I don’t see them. On my own I noticed none of the problems Ryan did–or didn’t think of them as problems-- but once he mentioned them, I understood what he meant, and how a person who was looking for those things could have his experience of the play diminished. Short of my own theater and a whole lot of money, I don’t know what to do about them, except maybe post another sign like the one we did warning of nudity and strong language– "theater professionals may be disappointed at our various unavoidable amateurisms." I can’t even say that we did our best, for I--and probably Mickey too– let some things through which we knew were not the best, or even the best we could do, but to which someone or other had an attachment, and we had decided to take the concept of collaboration seriously. Things happened that made me cringe, but made another smile, and that seemed an upright tradeoff. I think Ryan and Brian have a different feel for what constitutes correct tech for a play, Ryan intending, if I understand things right, to be efficient, elegant, unobtrusive. Brian is more poetical, more responsive to the text, and rather more about self-expression. Both are welcome behind my board any day.

I dreaded the weeks that Crown of Shadows would take up, but it became ordinary life, and I forgot that I ever did anything else. This afternoon it’s all over, and I will feel– content, I think. Thanks to everybody for that. I will miss my actors. I will be glad of my evenings back. . . to do what with? I’ll think of something . . . .