Don’t Miss The Dead! One Night Only!

Every year on June 16th, fans of James Joyce celebrate “Bloomsday” – the day upon which the novel Ulysses takes place. But what is to be done on the day after?

Join us today, June 17th, for San Francisco Theater Pub’s staged reading of Joyce’s famous short story, “The Dead!”

Performed Reader’s Theater style, this adaptation of The Dead, by our very own Jeremy Cole, ran for six seasons at Hunger Artists Ensemble Theater in Denver, CO!

The year is 1904. It is a snowy winter’s night in the city of Dublin. Gretta and Gabriel Conroy are among the guests at the Morkan Sisters’ annual dinner on the Feast of the Epiphany and the last day of Christmas. An evening of laughter, music and dance ends in introspection and Gabriel has an epiphany of his own.

The Theater Pub cast features: Melissa Clason, Siobhan Doherty, Jean Forsman, Cameron Galloway, Heather Kellogg, William Leschber, Theresa Miller, Rhio Ossola, Vince Faso, and Sara Breindel on the harp.

Admission is, as always, FREE with a suggested donation, and of course, we’ll have Hide Away Blues BBQ there so arrive hungry and get there early to ensure a seat!

See you tonight!

Falling With Style: All I Do is Win Win Win, No Matter What

Helen Laroche on her reaction to the Tony Awards this past weekend.

I’m still reeling from the Tony awards. I mean, if you watched the opening number and weren’t moved, even a little bit, by the sight of so many talented people working in tandem to deliver a mind-blowing spectacle, then you might be dead inside.

Didn’t Debra’s slack-jawed look of childish wonder speak for all of us?

Didn’t Debra’s slack-jawed look of childish wonder speak for all of us?

And yet there was a teeny-tiny piece of me that refused to enjoy it, and instead was jealous. Jealous of the dancers, who are so much better than I’ll ever be! Jealous of the singers, who have the drive to get to Broadway! Jealous of my many fellow CMU graduates who swept the Tonys! If I hadn’t intervened, that little voice might have ruined my enjoyment of the whole thing.

I find myself hearing that little voice a lot when it comes to performance. I hear about others’ achievements and instead of feeling pride, love, or awe, I feel jealous instead. Sometimes (and I’m not proud of it) I take some happiness or solace knowing, for example, that an oft-hired female of my type was not cast in a particular show. It’s as if I’m operating under the assumption that either that person can achieve, succeed, and be happy, or I can. Their loss is my gain, and vice versa.

But the gains I make by listening to that little conniving voice are hollow; the losses, utterly devastating. And worst of all, I miss out on enjoying other people’s heartfelt artmaking.

I’m reminded of a mantra I’ve heard many times in the past few months, first at the Theatre Bay Area ATLAS program and many times since: “A rising tide floats all boats.” Instead of listening to the little voice that hopes others lose in order for me to win, I’d like to focus instead on rejoicing in others’ big art-making achievements. Some days, that’s easier said than done … but I’m a work in progress.

If you’d like to join me in my visualization, picture this: your mortal artistic enemy (the guy that keeps getting cast over you; the gal whose play keeps getting slotted while yours languishes) on a podium accepting the Pulitzer-Tony-Oscar for Best Artist. And just keep sitting there until it makes you smile!

Cowan Palace: James Joyce, A Man For The Living And The Dead

Ashley Cowan preps you for next week’s dramatic reading of “The Dead.”

As we move closer to the summer equinox, it seems like the perfect season to soak in some Theater Pub. Well, you’re in luck, friends, because on June 17, “The Dead” is taking over Cafe Royale. Before you get too excited about another zombie tale, you should know that “The Dead” is actually a short story included in James Joyce’s Dubliners, a collection of tales from 1914. Though the word “short” may not quite do it justice, “The Dead” in its entirety is 15,672 words and may be better classified as a novella.

The plot surrounds Gabriel Conroy on a January evening in 1904. More specifically, it’s the annual dance and dinner hosted by the Morkan sisters. But without giving too much away, as the story will reveal itself under the direction of Jeremy Cole, here are a few fun facts about James Joyce, the holiday known as Bloomsday, and how it can help you survive “The Dead”.

So first, who is this James Joyce guy?

Well, his full name is James Augustine Aloysius Joyce and he was born in Dublin, Ireland as the eldest of 10 children. He was probably best known as a poet and novelist but spent a lot of his life struggling to earn a living for his family and often took whatever clerical or teaching work he encountered.

But then he had it easy once he became better known for his writing, right?

Not exactly. Among many life challenges, the poor guy also didn’t have the best eyesight. In fact he underwent over 25 eye surgeries in his lifetime and when he finally began to make a living from writing, his eyesight had deteriorated considerably. He was then forced to rely on others to help him complete his works.

Yikes. Do you think this impacted “The Dead?”

Well, the story seems to be leading to a moment of clarity and ultimately with that, the painful cost that comes with self-awareness. Gabriel battles social awkwardness and crippling insecurities that on some level most of us could understand. It’s likely that Joyce grappled with aspects of these things as well.

But wait, what’s this Bloomsday thing I always here about? Was Joyce a party animal?

Bloomsday, June 16, encompasses an annual celebration for Joyce fans worldwide. It’s honored in at least 60 countries but, of course, it’s probably nowhere near the revelry in Dublin.

Why is that?

As Dublin is the setting for the book Ulysses, Joyce fans have made a tradition of reenacting the story as the central character, Leopold Bloom. His entire itinerary is carried out across the city in new and creative ways each year. But honestly, who needs an excuse to drink a Guinness and party?

When did Bloomsday start?

It actually wasn’t Joyce’s idea. Bloomsday was created in 1954, the 50th anniversary of the events in the book. Two men named John Ryan and Flann O’Brien decided to organize a daylong adventure following the route set about in Ulysses. Included in the friends who joined them was Joyce’s cousin, Tom Joyce.

It seems like Bloomsday has impacted a lot of people.

I’d say so. In fact, Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath were married on June 16, 1956 in honor of Bloomsday.

Bloomsday also continues to make its mark in popular culture as well. A couple references you may remember include: In Mel Brooks’ classic 1968 film, The Producers, Gene Wilder plays a character named Leo Bloom, who as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, is in honor to the fella from Ulysses. Furthering the homage, in the musical adaptation from 2005, the office calendar reads “June 16”.

Richard Linklater was also clearly a Joyce junkie and included Ulysses in his 1991 film, Slacker, by having a character read a passage from the book. He also sets his 1995 Before Sunrise (one of Ashley Cowan’s favorites!) all on June 16.

Okay, I get that June 16 is the day Ulysses was set on and that the name comes from Leopold Bloom. But what’s so important about June 16? Why did Joyce pick that day?

This one may impress all you romantics out there. On June 16, 1904, Joyce took Nora Barnacle on their first date.

And did their first date lead to a second?

Oh, it did! They had quite the love affair. Aside from creating two children, they were also known for some rather erotic letters they would write to each other. In fact, for one lucky fan, a letter sold for almost half a million dollars at Sotheby’s back in 2004.

Any examples from their passionate letters?

Well, pervert, many of Joyce’s books were censored and banned, some even pirated, so we know he was full of potential! But I’ll give you one example with this sexy sentence meant for Nora, “The two parts of your body which do dirty things are the loveliest to me.” Try that one on your honey in honor of Bloomsday!

I can see why Theater Pub wanted to take this project on…

Originally, Joyce had earlier considered titling Dubliners (the book where “The Dead” can be found) Ulysses in Dublin. However, Dubliners made the final cut. The characters Gabriel Conroy, Gretta Conroy, Kate and Julia Morkan, and Bartell d’Arcy, from “The Dead”, are suggested but none of they actually make an appearance in Ulysses. In any case, as Bloomsday also celebrates Joyce in the whole, it seems like a perfect choice for the June 17 Theater Pub.

So tell me more about Joyce’s kids.

Sure. They were named Giorgio and Lucia Joyce. Lucia led an interesting life; at one point she actually dated Samuel Beckett! Later though she was declared a schizophrenic and had to be confined in a mental asylum.

Way to be a downer.

Yeah, well, that’s life. Writers often experience a lot of pain but their work is enriched and praised because of it. Joyce was a complicated guy. It’s also said that he suffered some strong fears. His phobias included: cynophobia (fear of dogs) and keraunophobia (fear of lightning and thunder). It’s believed his final words were, “Does nobody understand?” before he died on January 10, 1941 and I hope for him, heaven is a place without dogs or storms.

Joyce once said, ”mistakes are the portals of discovery”. But don’t make the mistake of missing this Theater Pub or you’ll discover you’ve missed quite the event! So this June 17th, join us at the Cafe Royale at 8 PM, order up your favorite Irish inspired beverage, sit back, and allow the cast of “The Dead” to transport you to Dublin where you’re welcome to take home an Irish accent and a piece of the Bloomsday spirit.

The Dead Will Rise One Week From Tonight!

Every year on June 16th, fans of James Joyce celebrate “Bloomsday” – the day upon which the novel Ulysses takes place. But what is to be done on the day after?

Join us on Monday, June 17th, at 8 PM for San Francisco Theater Pub’s staged reading of Joyce’s famous short story, “The Dead.”

Performed Reader’s Theater style, this adaptation of The Dead, by our very own Jeremy Cole, ran for six seasons at Hunger Artists Ensemble Theater in Denver, CO.

The year is 1904. It is a snowy winter’s night in the city of Dublin. Gretta and Gabriel Conroy are among the guests at the Morkan Sisters’ annual dinner on the Feast of the Epiphany and the last day of Christmas. An evening of laughter, music and dance ends in introspection and Gabriel has an epiphany of his own.

The Theater Pub cast features: Melissa Clason, Siobhan Doherty, Jean Forsman, Cameron Galloway, Heather Kellogg, William Leschber, Theresa Miller, Rhio Ossola, Vince Faso, and Sara Breindel on the harp.

Admission is, as always, FREE with a suggested donation, and of course, we’ll have Hide Away Blues BBQ there so arrive hungry and get there early to ensure a seat!

Higher Education: A Masters In The Arts

Today we kick off  a new regular column, with Bay Area based writer Barbara Jwanouskos chronicling her life and what she’s learning as she navigates the second year of an MFA program in Dramatic Writing. It’s the common recourse of many an artists looking to take the next step with their career; keep following along as Barbara shares her experiences pursuing this particular route to achieving her artistic dreams.

About a year ago, I made the decision to go back to school to get an MFA in Dramatic Writing in order to concentrate solely on developing my craft. For me, I knew that I needed to invest in something (my time, money and energy) in order to really see a payoff. Well, I just finished up my first year, and here are some lessons I’ve learned along the way not only about succeeding in the program, but also in succeeding as an artist and hey, frankly just walking through this world:

1) You need to know your habits and what you need in order to perform.

2) You can go for longer than you think you can go without your ideal writing conditions.

3) There are extremely talented people out there, but the ones I’m in awe of the most are those who simultaneously come to the table enthusiastic, ready to contribute, are kind to others, and model inspirational behavior.

4) You need to let go of most things. It’s really not worth it.

5) Odds are that you’re a lot more talented than you give yourself credit for, but your writing still needs a lot of work.

6) Planning ahead saves lives and sanity.

7) The building up of stamina and endurance is extremely important.

8) As is fostering a community for moral support.

9) If you do something last minute, it always shows. If you take your time with something, it usually shows.

10) If you truly want to learn, you have to be willing (and able) to listen.

In order to improve on your writing and theater-making skills, you have to be constantly challenged, tested, and evaluated. An MFA program is about challenging yourself, but that’s not to say that you need to go through the hassle of applying different places and spending two to three years in another state in order to pursue your passion. Please note: THIS IS NOT AN EDITORIAL ESPOUSING THE WONDEROUSNESS OF GRAD SCHOOL!!! A lot of the elements that are beneficial aspects of an MFA program can be done regardless if you decide to go back to school. You can do-it-yourself!

The way to build your own path to higher education is to ask yourself, what do I want to master? It’s a question that helps to guide where you spend your energy. Since there is only so much time, you’ll ultimately have to sacrifice something – sometimes that means less social time with friends, sometimes it means spending money on a seminar instead of a trip, and sometimes it’s saying “no” to a really cool creative project.

With your goal in mind, you then commit yourself to learning whatever you can about that subject. It’s valuable to truly understand why and how the things you like and the things you want to do work. For instance, one of my goals in writing has been to create a seamless, compelling story – and I want to be able to do that over and over again. So, reading Save the Cat or Robert McKee has been extremely helpful in getting familiar with the elements of a story, as well as the different types of structures. And then, reading a variety of different plays and not asking yourself necessarily “do I like this?” but, “why are people producing this?” (in a non-cynical manner) helps me at least understand what tips and tricks I can incorporate into my own work.

When you can break down how something works, next, it’s time to test that understanding by applying it and trying to replicate it. You put it in the hands of collaborators. You have actors read it. Directors direct it. The only way to progress a play is to produce it. We’ve all been there. You’ve finished your Masterpiece Baby. “This S is brilliant! Pulitzer here I come!” you say. Then, you get it in front of people only to have half the audience sleeping, no one laughing at the jokes but you, and the other half of the audience so confused that they’ve tuned out completely and start thinking of their to-do lists. Okay, so then it’s back to the drawing board. In the words of one of my past playwriting teachers: What pops? What stands out – good or bad? There’s one place to start.

Then, finally it’s time to reflect on whether you actually were successful. This is the point where you truly have to let go of your ego and think of your work honestly. It’s the point where you let others into the equation for feedback and take what they say and what your intent was and wrap it into one delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich of art. In order to stay committed to higher education you have to constantly be asking yourself “Did I achieve the response I wanted on this?” If not, how can you make it better? And if you did, can you replicate it over and over again? Because then, if you can, you truly have become a Master in the Arts.

Barbara Jwanouskos is a Bay Area writer whose work has been featured in the SF Theater Festival and whose play, All In The Mix, premiered in Oakland in 2012. She is currently pursing an MFA in Dramatic Literature and continues to remain active in the Bay Area theater scene.

Hi-Ho, the Glamorous Life: A Decade of Loving “Arcadia”

Marissa Skudlarek dissects the deepest of all love affairs: that of a fan with the work they love the most.

“Septimus, what is carnal embrace?”

“Carnal embrace is the practice of throwing one’s arms around a side of beef.”

Ten years ago, I read the opening lines of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, and fell in love. This wasn’t merely a playwright’s platonic love for a skillfully written script. No, I was a high school junior at the time, and I developed a massive crush on Septimus Hodge, the character who makes such a witty quip about the meaning of carnal embrace.

Spare me your Heathcliffs and your Mr. Darcys – for me it has always been Septimus and Septimus alone. He’s a ladies’ man, quick-witted, amusing, and rakish. But at the same time, he is capable of profound insights: “When we have found all the mysteries and lost all the meaning, we will be alone, on an empty shore.”

In the play, Septimus is hired as tutor to the teenaged Lady Thomasina, who turns out to be a math prodigy. I identified with Thomasina, too, the way that I always identify with clever girls in works of fiction (Hermione Granger, say, or Roald Dahl’s Matilda). Being a smart girl, Thomasina naturally develops a crush on wonderful, sexy Septimus. He responds with mixed signals: he kisses her, but refuses to go to bed with her.

Yet, after Thomasina dies in a tragic accident, Septimus withdraws from the world and dedicates his life to investigating her mathematical theories. What greater proof of love could there be? Septimus may tease Thomasina, but deep down, he respects her. And he may sleep with other women, but it’s Thomasina who he loves. He admires her insight, her curiosity, all the essential traits of her personality. He loves her not in spite of her intelligence, but because of it. And when I was a gawky, bookish fifteen-year-old girl, that idea was very, very powerful.

There are many other reasons I love Arcadia: the script is brilliantly constructed, sparkles with epigrams, and expresses a perspective on life that I find both true and moving. But my original obsession was with Septimus and Thomasina. Perhaps I even took my identification with Thomasina a little too far: I made a point of rereading Arcadia on the night before I turned seventeen, because Thomasina dies in a fire on the eve of her seventeenth birthday. Yes, I feared dying in a fire that night, too! (This may make more sense if I explain that the night before my birthday is the Fourth of July, and people were shooting off bottle rockets nearby.)

And I still love Arcadia, though in recent years I’ve come to see it with a more critical eye. Even though it contains some excellent roles for women, it can also be criticized on feminist grounds: it’s a “dead girl play,” one of many in the dramatic canon that derives its emotional power from killing off a young female character. And, as a teenager, I found Thomasina and Septimus’ relationship wildly romantic – but, to my adult eyes, it looks kind of shady. My reaction has shifted from “Get over yourself, Septimus, and go have sex with your 16-year-old student!” to “Septimus, thank God you only went as far as kissing her.”

Yet, in ten years of loving Arcadia, I had never seen it staged. Though it’s a popular play at colleges and community theaters, years went by without my being in the vicinity of a production. Then, too, I didn’t want to be disappointed in the play when I did see it. I refused to attend a recent local production because I deemed the actor playing Septimus too old for the role – to see him would have dashed my girlish romantic dreams.

Then ACT, here in San Francisco, announced that Arcadia would be the closing production of their 2012-13 season. My feelings about this were as mixed as the jam in Thomasina’s rice pudding. Carey Perloff is famed for her productions of Stoppard plays, and ACT’s budget and resources would surely allow them to cast appropriate actors (i.e., they’d be able to find a young, cute Septimus). However, ACT is far from my favorite Bay Area theater company; I’ve seen some good shows there, but also some dreadful ones, such a dire production of Racine’s Phèdre helmed by Perloff herself. My optimism and my burning desire to finally see Arcadia prevailed, though, and I bought tickets to ACT’s production.

I’d always thought of Arcadia as a sprightly, fun script to read, but watching it, it seemed longer and talkier. It’s never dull, but it’s definitely a three-hour play of intricate complexity. However, seeing the play staged made me gain new respect for Stoppard’s dramatic construction. At the start of the play, there are dozens of unanswered questions; by the end of the play, everything has been tied up, to dazzling effect.

Thomasina was played by Rebekah Brockman, a student in ACT’s MFA program. Presumably, Brockman is in her twenties, yet she made an utterly believable thirteen-year-old, fidgeting and tucking her feet up under her as she sat in a chair. Meanwhile, to play Septimus, ACT imported Jack Cutmore-Scott, a New York actor who had understudied the role on Broadway. And yes, he’s cute. But more importantly, he gave a very human portrayal of Septimus. On the page, Septimus can come off as almost too good to be true – that’s why I developed a crush on him. But in Cutmore-Scott’s portrayal, Septimus wasn’t always in control of the situation. Though his quick wit soon enabled him to regain his equilibrium, he also had moments of vulnerability and confusion.

The production wasn’t perfect. Indeed, the night I saw it, there was an understudy in the role of Bernard Nightingale. His English accent was shaky, and he had to shout “Line!” several times. But it didn’t ruin the play.

Tom Stoppard has revealed that at the end of Arcadia – where modern music plays as the characters dance a Regency waltz – he wanted the song to be the Rolling Stones’ “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” That’s always been my favorite Stones song, I think because its lyrics acknowledge that life is not some Arcadian idyll and yet the music grooves and swells and exults. Thematically, it makes a perfect match for the final moments of Arcadia.

All right, then: you can’t always get what you want. (Even Stoppard couldn’t get what he wanted: he couldn’t use that song at the end of Arcadia because it’s not a waltz.) The Arcadia production at ACT wasn’t perfect, and Septimus Hodge doesn’t exist in real life. At the same time, I saw Arcadia with my boyfriend, who loves the script as much as I do, and is pretty special in other ways too. I had to wait ten years to see Arcadia; I also had to wait ten years to meet a man who’d love me for my intelligence. It was worth it, both times. If you try sometimes, you get what you need.

Marissa Skudlarek is a San Francisco-based playwright and arts writer. Find her at marissabidilla.blogspot.com or on Twitter @MarissaSkud.