what are you doing looking at this blog?

It's been decades since I posted. You're either a hardcore Clancy fan, my dad, or a first-timer. Welcome whomsoever you be.
Going to try to at least do a bi-weekly post this season, lots going on. Last year was mostly teaching, which paid many a bill but wore my ass down. Gained a lot of respect for those who stand in front of a classroom everyday and still manage to get other things done.
So, two things of note:

1. We won a big award over in Scotland this August. The inaugural Edinburgh International Festival Award, which they created as a way to give a company that's been banging away on the Fringe for years a little bridge towards the Big Art Circuit. We got 5,000 pounds, (which at the current exchange rate is just under fourteen million dollars) to develop a new piece to be shown in a workshop form at next year's International Festival. If they like it, they'll think about commissioning it for the main stage at the Festival in 2009. As Robert Shaw in the Sting would say, "Ya follah?" Means we have a shot at moving from postcards to bus stop posters. We're all very excited, but at the same time we're thinking, "Shit. We've got 11 months to come up with the Big Idea." Think we've decided what we want to do, but I'll save that for later posts. Gives me something to write about.

2. Stolen Chair is opening their new show Kinderspiel at the Red Room on Thursday. Everyone should see it. I'm seeing it Thursday. Full disclosure: we consult with them and part of our job is to increase their audience and industry profile, but we only consult with quality acts. Keeps us clean.

So those are two things. I'll call you tomorrow, Dad.

one idea

Here's one proposal that the League, working with Paul Adams, put together. Not a final document by any means, but begins a more specific conversation about what a new code might look like.

New York 99 Seat Theater Code

The following is put forth by the League of Independent Theater as the basis for a new code for established seasonal producers working in the 99 seat sector. These producers are defined as not-for-profit producers with a minimum three-year relationship with Actors Equity.

Health and Benefits Contribution:

A donation will be made of $500.00 to the Actors Equity Health and Benefits Fund for the first four weeks of production. A donation of $750.00 will be made for the second four weeks of production. A donation of $1,000.00 will be made for the third four weeks.

Actors Stipends:

In weeks 1 – 4 actors will receive $10.00 per performance plus Metrocard. Stage Managers will receive $15 per performance plus Metrocard.

In weeks 4 – 8 actors will receive $20.00 per performance plus Metrocard. Stage Managers will receive $25 per performance plus Metrocard.

In weeks 9-12 actors will receive $30.00 per performance plus Metrocard. Stage managers will receive $35.00 per performance plus Metrocard.

Rehearsal Period:

Projects may rehearse over a 6-week period with a maximum of 25 hours per week. Actors will receive an unlimited Metrocard for the length of rehearsal.

Performance Period:

Productions may be presented for a maximum of 5 performances per week and for a maximum of 12 consecutive weeks.

Extension/Transfer:

Productions may transfer to a new theater after the initial four-week run to a new venue if accomplished within two weeks of closing.

Ticket Prices:

The maximum ticket price for weeks 1 – 4 is $25.00

The maximum ticket price for weeks 5 – 8 is $30.00

The maximum ticket price for weeks 9-12 is $35.00

Video Taping:

Producers may keep archival videotapes of their production. In addition they may use copies of the tape for the purposes of grant making and for documentation for presenters. Up to 10 minutes of video material may be used for promotional purposes.

late breaking news

A meeting will be held by the coalition to reform the showcase code www.nyc99.org this Sunday July 8th at the the East Thirteenth Street Theater (Classic Stage) at 6:00 PM. Members of the off-off community are invited to gather to take action on reforming the showcase code and saving off off Broadway theater.

underground zero

My friend and fellow League of Independent Theater stalwart Paul Bargetto is cooking up a festival. Info below.

COLLECTIVE:UNCONSCIOUS TO PRESENT
THE UNDERGROUNDZERO FESTIVAL JULY 19 TO AUGUST 5
Festival offers new life for successful productions from the alternative theater movement.

NEW YORK, June 19 -- Alternative theater is ephemeral in its nature, but it doesn't have to be, according to Paul Bargetto, curator of the UndergroundZero Festival, and Caterina Bartha, Co-Founding Director of Collective:Unconscious. They imagine independent theater in repertory as a way to extend the life of successful "downtown" plays, and have established the UndergroundZero Festival as an artistic proof-of-concept for it. Collective:Unconscious will present the event over three weeks July 19 to August 5 at its Tribeca theater facility, located at 279 Church Street.

The festival is inviting successful productions that could be viable in a Downtown theater devoted to rotating repertory. The repertory forum for independent theater, a new model of production, is being showcased as an alternative to the current system of limited runs that consign many successful shows to oblivion.

Plays presented will range from full-cast productions to works by performer-playwrights. Companies represented include International WOW Company, The Flying Machine, Stolen Chair, East River Commedia and Pinchbottom’s Burlesque. There will also be a selection of plays that were originally developed in the Columbia MFA Program.

The festival will also feature a convening of the League of Independent Theater on Tuesday, July 31 at 7:30 pm. Independent theater producers and artists will gather to discuss the issues facing the community and draft a resolution for action. See www.leagueofindietheater.blogspot.com.

A schedule and list of participants will be available on the Collective:Unconscious website, www.weird.org, on June 19. Tickets for individual shows will be $15. The audience information number is (212) 352-3101 and online ticketing is available at www.weird.org.

AUXILIARY EVENTS
The festival will also launch "The Moxie Show," a turntable for music acts, comedians, variety acts and sections from works of theater, puppetry and dance. Hosted by Trav S.D., beginning July 24, it will continue on the second and fourth Tuesdays of each month. Door prizes will be awarded for acts showing the most moxie, chosen by the world's oldest approval device, the applause-o-meter. Curator Trav S.D. is a long-time host of American Vaudeville Theater and author of "No Applause--Just Throw Money: The Book That Made Vaudeville Famous." Admission will be $5 per night.

On the two Mondays of the festival, C:U will present its ongoing film program, "Speakeasy Cinema," hosted by Matt Kohn and presenting a mystery film on Monday July 16. July 23 will feature Jewels and Gems from the Film Makers Cooperative, the largest archive of avant-garde film in the world. Admission is $5 and the films begin at 7:30pm.

help wanted

The League of Independent Theater is an idea I’ve been curating for awhile, along with John Pinckard and Paul Bargetto. We’ve been excited and gratified by the tremendously positive community response to the idea of the League, but I want to stress that so far, it’s only an idea. I see it working as a trade organization, a vehicle to gather and propel the ideas and best practices of the community, and also as an instrument to express and amplify the collective voice of the community. I’m imagining a nonprofit membership organization with an elected staff. Initially we’d need a steering committee of some sort to create the bylaws and incorporate the thing. John and Paul and I are doing that in an ad hoc way right now, but we feel the need for much broader community input.

Below is the barest of blueprints. Please respond with any and all comments, thoughts and suggestions.
The League of Independent Theater is a membership organization dedicated to preserving and strengthening independent theater in New York City. The League’s mission is to foster theatrical productions produced in 99 seat theatres and promote the common interest of its membership. The League assists in the voluntary exchange of information among its members, serves as the collective voice of its membership, works to increase interest in independent theater throughout North America, strives to foster a sense of community among all members, and develops programs addressing the unique needs of its members.

Short-term goals include:

Advocacy of a new AEA Code allowing for longer production runs
Partnering with enlightened realtors to create affordable and secure rehearsal and performance space
Creation of an archival database of member’s productions including scripts and design images
Commissioning an Off-Off economic impact analysis

Two types of membership:
Organizational- any theater company or producing company regularly working in or operating a 99 seat theater. 100.00 annual dues
Individual- any artist, technician, administrator or producer regularly working in 99 seat theater. 50.00 annual dues

put yer hancock here

There's a petition posted on www.nyc99.org. Looking for strength in numbers.

Also just read in the Times that the director general of the International Atomic Energy Agency is warning that "the new crazies" are pushing for an invasion of Iran. Not a surprising news story, but that has to be the best name for a band I've heard in years.

summertime

The ice cream truck has begun its manic lullabye outside my window and people are walking around down there practically naked. We put in the airconditioner last week, the annual terror-inducing certainty that this time it will finally slip from my grip before I can get the window down, plummeting six solid stories down down down, the crashing, the screaming, the fingers pointing in accusation. Summertime.

This used to be the busiest time of the year for me, back when I was the Dark Lord of the Fringe. Hustling the venues, scheduling the shows, relying on sheer faith and adrenaline to get through the day. Can't say I miss it, but it was a hell of a rush.

Been away dealing with family stuff, back now and will try to keep posting.

trifecta

Just got off the phone with Guy Van Swearingen at A Red Orchid Theater in Chicago. They want to put up Fatboy in October, which means three Fatboys, three cities in three months. August we return to Edinburgh, September the folks at Brat Productions perform it in Philadelphia and October the fat man's in Chicago.

This must be what it feels like to be a playwright.

Curt Dempster

Suicide.

Jesus, that surprised and saddened me. Dempster was one of the pioneers, someone who stuck with it for over 30 years and he ends up alone in his apartment holding a rope in his hands and looking at the ceiling. That decision and the black moments that lead to it will always be private and unfathomable, but I have to admit the detail that I can't shake from the Bloomsberg article is the $40,000 he was making a year. 40 grand in New York City after more than 30 years of hard, grinding, important cultural work, nurturing artists, providing opportunities, introducing audiences and critics to new work. 40 grand.

Poverty didn't kill him, of course, but it's just another example of the real world ramifications of what Isaac is talking about over at Parabasis.

Too sad to make a coherent point here. Just thankful that Dempster was around to do what he did and sad that he's gone.

quick plug

Just got my hands on Plays and Playwrights 2007, the latest in the series put out by Martin Denton at New York Theatre Experience, Inc. Highly recommended, especially if you're teaching an acting class and looking for scenes for the students.

Also, I wrote the foreword, so I get nine bucks every copy sold. Would that that last sentence were true.

You can buy it right here on the world-wide internet web: www.nyte.org.

11 new plays, all fresh from the Off-Off/Indie rainforest.

little league

Check out www.leagueofindietheater.blogspot.com for a spirited discussion on all this Basic Showcase Code reform hoo-hah. Some great ideas and arguments.

I'm still carrying a torch for this proposed League, but here's what I'm wondering:

Is this a membership organization where you pay dues and elect chairpeople and all that?
How does this operate differently than, say, the Community Dish?
What concrete services can this League provide? If you're paying dues, what do you get?

Feels like there have been several bouts of great energy and passion around this idea, but it's getting time to figure out if there's an actual thing here.

Brass tacks and all that.

What do you think?

heating up

Even though sleet and freezing rain lash my windows as I type, the temperature is rising on the AEA Showcase Reform issue. Two items:

Paul Bargetto has started a blog for The League of Independent Theaters. Go to http://leagueofindietheater.blogspot.com. Paul's the one who first turned me on to the L.A. 99 Seat Theater Plan.

And Ben Hodges new book Commercial Theater Insitute's Guide to Producing Plays and Musicals is out and and in the preface he describes the Code as "the greatest plight I believe facing developmental theater producing in New York."

He goes on to say:

"I have been unable in over three years to find anything ultimately beneficial in the Code to either producers or actors - in fact, all aspects are strictly antithetical to the goals of all members of a production, especially actors."

This book should be hitting a lot of desks around town, so the time to form the argument and make the case is now.

from the files

Going through some old stuff and found this. Something I wrote four years ago, fresh from the shock:

Theatre in Wartime
October, 2001

I've always believed that the act of theater is a potentially dangerous, even revolutionary act. I share this belief with most members of my generation of American theatre artists. We were taught this belief mainly through books. In college we were exposed to Artaud's Theatre as Plague. We read poorly translated Brecht, brushing off the Anglicisms thick as flies, trying to taste the blood and sweat of battle. We puzzled over Fo, getting few of the references and none of the jokes. We quoted Grotowski and Brook to each other, reverent and rapt.

And then we got jobs in summer stock. Our resumes filled with Shakespeare, Stoppard and Gilbert and Sullivan. The writers among us unwittingly split between the camps of Shepard and Mamet, both honorable and interesting schools, but neither revolutionary. The directors discovered Viewpoints. And we all found our way into the existing infrastructure of the American theatre industry. The best and the brightest of us either quit early or got jobs in film and television. The rest of us, more persistent and arguably less ambitious, stayed in the living and breathing theater.

And we lived like double agents there, or more accurately like split personalities, talking revolution while walking the status quo. A simpler way of saying it is we lived like hypocrites. Our theater was not revolutionary. We were not trying to infect anyone or incite anything. We were trying to impress our elders and outstrip our peers. We were trying to get paid. We were just trying to get by, really. But we kept our battered copies of Towards a Poor Theatre and The Empty Space and The Theatre and It's Double up on the top shelf and kept quotes from them above our desks. We were like most modern-day Christians, with our favorite Gospel memorized, only accidentally applying the lesson to our daily life.

See, we grew up rich, vicariously if not in fact. We grew up in the last twenty-five years here in America. We grew up fat and happy. Not our fault, but one of our facts. We were like the rich, smart white kids who secretly or openly envy the world's oppressed for their clear targets of rebellion and overthrow.

Those of us who doggedly stayed in the theatre soon had to deal with the embarassing fact that we seemed to be working in a deeply anachronistic field. Here we were in the age of Dell selling Underwoods. We were offering jugs of water in Starbucks. We were standing next to a DJ playing a harpsichord. We were in downtown Detroit opening up bicycle factories. Live theater, when anyone thought about it, which was rarely, was either boring or quaint. Or worse, it was important. Important like those books on the top shelf, covered in dust, not important like your day-runner, not something you would ever actually need.

And then last month the world fell apart. With two buildings down, another one burning and a plane crashed in a Pennsylvanian field, our veneer of safety was stripped and we all woke up, blinking, to a new day. Three thousand dead and two hundred and fifty million changed.

The immediate reaction was survival, of course, and the frantic counting of heads. Once the planes were out of the sky, once night came and friends and family were accounted for, once the world and its prosaic, comforting details came creeping back in, we started asking ourselves what now? What do we do?

I am not a firefighter. I am not a steelworker or a truck driver or a member of the National Guard. I cannot perform the immediate, physical tasks that will rebuild the city. I work in the theater. I write, act, direct, coach, and can, if pressed, run lights and sound. The mayor did not seem to have any use for me.

Two or three days after the attacks, I began reading the reactions of my colleagues in New York. I read through the articles and then raced through them again. I thought surely there had been a mistake. They didn't say that. Why would they say that? There must be more, there must be a last paragraph saying Come to the theater. Come tonight. We don't know what we'll be doing but come. We'll be there. Come for an hour. Come for ten minutes. Come cry or argue or just sit. Come now if you wish. Our doors will be open.

There was no paragraph. There was no invitation. There was no acknowledgement or expression of the theatre's essential function, as a place of secular communion and worship. I read only admissions of inadequacy. I read self-indictments of irrelevance. It all could be expressed as one question my colleagues asked: Who want to come to the theatre now? implying that there were clearly more important activities the populace should be engaged in, such as going blind from excessive CNN exposure while drinking heavily at home.

And yes, we were all in shock here in New York. None of us can be held completely accountable for words or actions those first few days. But crisis reveals the truth. And the truth is, we were revealed as faithless. Over and over, like a demented Greek chorus, we intoned "What do we do now? What kind of theatre do we create?

May I suggest we get down the books? You know the ones, the ones we claim to be our Scripture. Read Artaud and think blueprint rather than poetry. Read early Brecht. Read the critics. Read Clurman. Read Fo. And then put the books away and get busy. Put up your initial reaction. It will be raw. It will be provisional. It will be incomplete. But the theatre, finally, is about incompletion. The theater is built on wild attempts and shots in the dark and striving for something just past your reach. It's live, it's messy, it's human. Writers, stop polishing that perfect phrase and scribble down a love letter to life, a vicious attack and smear of death, anything from your heart, not your head. Directors, stop worrying about incidental music and the staging, stop formulating your interpretation and make sure that the essential thrust and music of the the writer's words are there. And actors, the bravest of us, those that actually stand there and deliver, actors, stand there under the lights and sacrifice yourself, sacrifice your solitary fears and worries and concerns, sacrifice yourself in front of all of us, do righteous battle with your own ego and struggle and triumph and fail.

Live theater is the mark of civilization. Live theater is the most immediate expression of a culture. We can move the fastest. We work close up, hand to hand. We are the Delta Force of the arts. And we are needed now.

The communal event of the theatre, the gathering of humans to watch and listen to other humans, is the single most valuable experience anyone can have right now. We need to be together in a quiet, dark place and listen to each other breathe. We need to bump knees and brush shoulders. We need to hear each other sigh and and snort and cry and laugh. We need to feel strong and connected. Those are some of the things the theater gives us. We need to remember the glories and strengths of civilization. That's another thing theater gives. Put up Shakespeare, Marlowe, Moliere and Shaw. This is, we're told, what we are fighting for: civilization. And I put forward that civilization is more fully expressed in August Wilson than in a re-run of Friends, more intimately experienced through Chekhov than through a Jets game.

When the world falls apart, you are left with essentials. We are part of those essentials. When a Global Positioning System fails, it's helpful to have a compass. When computers crash, an Underwood comes in pretty handy. When you run out of gas, you can still get there on a bike. We are now, as we always were, important. In the sense that a jug of water is more important than a frappucino, matches more important than a Kleig light, a baseball bat more important than a security system when you find yourself in actual, immediate danger. We are important because we do it the old-fashioned way. Hand-to-hand. Face-to-face. Making it up as we go along. And that is what is needed now.

For god's sake stop arguing for our irrelevance. There are plenty of people who will do that for us, even in the best of times. And try not to complain now that it's hard. It is hard. This time it's real. This time people actually need us. Step up and speak.


That was four years ago, folks. How are we doing?

sneaking back in

Sorry, folks. Got abducted by aliens on September 28, 2006. Back now.

Things I'm doing:

Adapting my play Fatboy to the big screen.
Working with some great people on the Equity Showcase reform deal.
Still teaching down at Rowan University.
Working with Madi Distefano, kick-ass Philly artist, on her new piece Sweetie-Pie. Full-on development work, lots of raw text, open-ended conversations, deep questioning, lots of smoking and scratching of chins.
Dodging creditors.

Everyone should go out and buy Martin Denton's new book, Plays and Playwrights 2007. Everyone should go do that now.

Take care and watch out for those aliens. Decent enough folks, but they hug a little too tight.

ahoy

Sorry for the Claude Raines routine. Having a rough time getting into the rhythm of classes and the commute. It's starting to sort itself out, so...

I think the next logical and easily achievable step is to send the draft mission statement of this League idea around to all the 99 seat venue owner/operators and all of the theater companies that regularly work in those venues. Broaden the conversation and hear from the people directly working under the conditions we're talking about.

And as far as the Equity Showcase reform conversation, if you haven't yet, go to the Equity site and look at the LA 99 seat theater plan. Paul Bargetto tipped me to it way back when and I can't think of any good reason it wouldn't work in New York.

More soon.

Also, can anyone tell me how to add links to this site?

It's a wonder they let me walk around unsupervised...

and we're back

Hey folks.

I started a teaching gig down in Glassboro, NJ a week after getting back in town and it's been a true ass-kicking experience. My ass being the one getting kicked. It's a 3 hour commute, one way. So I found a room in a house off campus and I'll be living down there Sundays through Thursdays for the next six weeks while I direct the first show of the semester.

So I'm semi-back.

Let's talk about the League. Still a good idea?

I make the move down to Glassboro tomorrow, so may not re-surface for a couple of days.

Hope all's well with all.

summer vacation

Hey folks,

Long time no post. Now in Edinburgh, where Midnight Cowboy opens in two days. Early previews have been good, we'll see what the critics say.

With limited internet access and insane festival schedule, odds aren't great that I'll be posting much until I'm back home in September. Things may change, just heard rumor of a wireless connection to be had at the theater, but I can be a bit of a moron about those things, so if we don't talk, have a great August and check this space in the fall.

John

good question

This from Jake, in the comments on the Risk post below:


Here's the question, though. Is this a revolution from the inside or a full on erasure of what we know -- of the powers that be? Do we throw the baby out with the bath water? Are there agencies already in existence that could help us out? For instance, I'm currently enjoying a (rather substantial) grant from TCG in the mentorship program and that's defnitely an area they are interested. (They are also at the beginning of doing a pretty big joint program with opera, dance, and orchestra organizations.) Perhaps that's an avenue to pursue. What about Art/NY...who are our allies in this? And what is the ultimate goal? I like John's list, but a revolution makes me thing there's a king to dethrone. Is there one? Who is he? Where is he enthroned? Sometimes I feel like our rhetoric gets in the way of what we actually need to accomplish.

There is no king, I don't think, just like there's no actual physical wall between Houston and uptown or Brooklyn and Manhattan. And the revolution I dream of is not one of destroying something that exists but creating something that doesn't yet. There are a lot of good ideas and organizations out there and the more you look the more you'll find. In very simple terms, I'm interested in seeing a professionally run organization created that is dedicated to the needs of the artists and producers working in 99 seat theaters in New York. TCG is looking at the whole country. ART/NY is looking at the whole city. Wouldn't it be beautiful to have a collective organization dealing with organizations like those two to foster Off-Off and looking for the other partnerships and opportunities that are out there?

Ninety zillion degrees today in London. True fact. We've all been atomized.

Monday night late in the Big Smoke. One week down on Midnight Cowboy rehearsals. Thanks to an extraordinarily talented and game cast and an exceptional stage manager (Tom Jeffords, an American, hire him if you can), we are blocked. Moving slightly faster than the speed of light.

Moved into an actual apartment, out of the hotel.

Hotels...

What is it in a hotel that reduces a person to a body? Night after night, your individuality, your history, your personality is leached, reduced. You become a person who lives in a hotel. It defines your day and worst, controls your night. You sleep the shallow, empty sleep of a man who sleeps in a hotel.

Nice flat in Southwark for the next two weeks. Cats. Nancy. Real life.

Way out here in London, working mad on this show and yet thinking hard on New York. This whole League can happen, however, I can't do it. We can.

If you know me, then you need to help me do this, because you know it's a good idea.

If you don't know me, then you really need to help me, because it's help from unexpected sources that pushes things over the limit and makes the difficult easy and the impossible unstoppable.

And here's something else:

I just heard from my father that a great man has died. So rest in peace Robert A. Hetlage. I knew him from when I was a child, I knew him all my life. He lived long and he lived well, he died a devoted husband and a loved father and grandfather. He lived honorably. He was a true and complete friend to his friends. He was a man you could rely on to the end of the world.

A sad night for us. Rest in peace, Bob.

back in London

Folks,

Apologies for the silence here, I had to fly back to London early for some additional casting and design meetings for Midnight Cowboy. Rehearsals start tomorrow morning and I'm ready to get into it. If you're in London look us up, we're here all month. If you're in New York, check out all the good things going down at the Ohio Theater with their Ice Factory blow-out and something very good opening at PS 122 on Wednesday that I can't remember the name of... Lemon Orange Canary? Orange Lemon Canary? Something Something Canary, I'm pretty sure.

Interesting, fruitful conversations with Melody Brooks and Ben Hodges, among others right before I left. I'm working towards an action plan for the fall I can post up here. One thing that seems certain is that any changes to the Showcase Code or creation of a new contract are going to have to come from the Equity members themselves. So we need to start reaching out and contacting Equity actors with an alternate contract, getting their input and work towards a petition.

In an internet cafe in Hammersmith, paying by the hour, so I'm off.

Speak soon.