In For a Penny: Of Olympic Proportions – Let the Monster Out

Charles Lewis III lets the monster out!

Artwork by Cody Rishell

“There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen.”
— Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

It all started with a car ride. That’s what I was told. During a 2009 production of Aristophanes’ The Frogs for Atmos Theatre’s Theatre in the Woods, that’s when we’re told Stuart first pitched the idea of a theatre dedicated to the classic works of Greek and Roman playwrights. As everyone learns when they’re around Stuart for long enough: he doesn’t pitch ideas so much as give you a heads-up on his inevitable plans.

Within a year from the original car ride, twelve local playwrights were staging twelve brand new plays – each one dedicated to one of mythical Olympians. Less than a year after that, three of those twelve plays had full productions. A year after that, half of the first year’s plays were collected into the first book, Songs of Hestia. Here we are five years on and the festival has produced two books, commissioned work from nearly 100 playwrights, staged readings of some 103 plays, commissioned an equal number of stunning original illustrations by Bay Area artists, and showcased the talents of countless members of the Bay Area acting community.

Not bad for a quirky li’l staged reading fest that started from a drive through the woods. As the festival itself is such an interesting and evolving beast, it makes sense that the fifth year would be dedicated to the monsters of Greek mythology.

I actually thought that I wouldn’t be involved with the festival this year. I’ve been involved with it in one way or another since the first year, wherein I was an actor. I played Prometheus, which wound up becoming something of a running joke when I wound up playing him three years in a row. Why no one seems to remember Stuart playing an incredibly smug and condescending Judd Apatow, I’ll never know? But I digress. After acting in two plays that first year, I wound up cast in seven the next year. The third year I was only in three plays, but I also moved up to being one of the festival’s playwrights with my one-act about the Titan Atlas. I wasn’t the first Olympians alumnus to make such a leap, but it seems appropriate to mention her as hers was one of the eight plays I directed for the fourth year (in addition to writing one of my own).

So yeah, I’ve been in the festival once or twice. I guess I’ve done enough to where after this year’s auditions, potential actors kept sending me messages asking when casting would be announced. So too did potential writers for next year ask me when those choices would be made. I have no official administrative capacity with the festival, but I told them all the same thing: “Just be patient.”

And yet I honestly didn’t expect to take part this year. None of my writing proposals had been accepted, nor had I been picked to direct this year. I auditioned this year as I had every year, but I was thoroughly convinced I wasn’t going to be cast in anything. I mean, I wasn’t cast last year either, so it wasn’t a big surprise that as casting announcement were made my name never appeared. And I took that as one-of-many signs about where my career has been heading this year. I’ve had to ask myself some serious questions about where said career would, could, and should be heading and exactly how I could get there. I was considering spending my October/November taking a small role for a very prominent local company (I mean, one even non-theatre people know by name) and just trying to see whatever Olympians shows fell on my “off” nights. So imagine my surprise when, early in the run for Pastorella, I got an e-mail offering me a role in the closing night show, “Echidna” by Olympians superstar Neil Higgins. (Like Stuart’s Judd Apatow, Neil’s stage directions “character” was one of the most memorable parts of Year 1.)

Surprise… and relief. Unexpected relief. There’s an almost inexplicable thrill to the festival that one can’t really understand unless you’ve taken an active part in it: the surprise of getting to read for characters and plays that can go from comedic to dramatic at the drop of a hat; the amazement that comes from seeing all the artwork on display; the wicked glee that comes from talking about which play will be “that show” this year (you know the one – the stunning misfire that’s talked about over drinks for years to come); the relationships that are made by two auditioners who share a BART train afterward; and, of course, the very experience of watching some of the most enduring myths of the western world become bold new works for hungry new audiences.

Can you believe I almost passed that up?

That’s when something occurred to me: since so many people have an interest in how they can see, support, or get involved with the festival, why not pull back the curtain every now and then? During last week’s opening party, we got to hear the announcement of the writers for next year’s fest, of which I will be one. So in addition to the other topics I’ll be covering in this column, I’ll also spend the next year making occasional updates on the fun/maddening process of putting together this lovely li’l fest of ours. And having taken part from nearly all angles of it, I can tell you that it’s no easy feat.

Over the next year you will hear stories of concepts praised and mocked, of scripts written in haste just to be torn up moments later, of “dream casting” that becomes a nightmare for everyone involved, of Jeremy Cole tracking you down like an angry cheetah because you didn’t reply to his e-mail, of illustrators who were supposed to have finished work a month ago but only have rough sketches, of writers wanting to tear their hair out because in the end there is nothing more stressful than trying to find the right raffle prize for the night of your reading and seeing that said prize is sold out.

But most of all, you’ll see a lot of love. What started out as a fun idea during a car ride through the woods has evolved into an annual highlight of the entire Bay Area theatre scene. And that’s always been the bottom line of the festival – for its audiences, illustrators, directors, actors, and writers – everyone keeps coming back because none of them can deny just how much fun they’re having. And I can’t believe I almost went a year without it.

Charles Lewis would love to see Stuart return to his role as Judd Apatow, if for no other reason than to see a two-person show wherein Allison Page plays his Lena Dunham. SF Olympians V: The Monster Ball kicked off last night at the The EXIT Theatre and continues tonight with Megan Cohen’s Centaur, or Horse’s Ass and Annette Roman’s Satyr Night Fever. All shows begin at 8pm, all tickets are $10.oo cash at the door, with raffle tickets $5.oo a piece. For more information, please visit www.SFOlympians.com.

Theater Around The Bay: Sometimes A Commission Is A Love Letter

Stuart Bousel lets Will and Ashley linger in the spotlight just a moment longer. 

So, you’ve probably heard that Ashley Cowan and Will Leschber got married.

You may have even heard something about me writing part of their ceremony (which was predominantly written and spoken by Chris Quintos Cathcart).

What you probably haven’t heard is that I sweated bullets over this page and a half like it was my own wedding.

I get asked to write stuff for people all the time: letters of recommendation, reviews and testimonials, the occasional play. The blessing/curse of being articulate and having a decent command of the language is that people often hit you up to make something sound better or put into words what they can’t, but there’s a big difference between, “write us a two person sketch about XXX”, or “list the five reasons I should get into this grad program”, and “try to capture the poetry of our romance.” That’s a lot of pressure. I mean, it’s one thing to be the weak link in an evening of shorts, or one of the myriad of reasons someone doesn’t get into grad school; it’s quite another to potentially ruin someone’s wedding. And like, their parents will be there. Is there anything worse than disappointed mom stare?

On the other hand, it’s deeply flattering to be asked to do something so important for someone, to be so earnestly trusted, and recognize the faith a friend or pair of friends (in this case) has in you to not only not fuck up, but enhance what was already bound to be a special day. It’s not only flattering, but also inspiring, especially if you’ve been going through a bit of a creative slump, as I have been. I hemmed and hawed and complained and procrastinated, but when I finally forced myself to sit down and write something, I ended up walking away a few hours later, immensely proud of what I’d done.

Sometimes, when we are writers, and particularly writers whose work is getting performed and/or published on a regular basis, we forget who we are writing for and why. In the last few years I have really been embracing the creation of art for its own sake, and for my sake, and the sake of “the right people.” I’ve stopped caring about being producible or commercial, I’ve stopped caring about critics, and I’ve stopped caring about whether or not people really get what I’m doing. When asked “what about the audience?” I’ve pretty much adopted the stance of one of my favorite auteurs, Hal Hartley, “What about them?” This has actually been a really liberating place to be, and if I’ve been running a bit dry this year it has less to do with any kind of writer’s block so much as exhaustion: I wrote 4 full length plays last year, a number of essays and articles, and 3 short plays. If it wasn’t for the part where I’m supposed to have a new full length by the end of this year, I’d be fine with giving myself the year off to just read and revise, but there is no rest for the articulate human with something to say. And I always have something to say.

Meanwhile, thanks to Ashley and Will, I’m sort of getting back into the swing of writing again. This was the short sprint I needed to prep for the marathon. And while I’m way past the point of writing for the audience, I hope you enjoy this as much as they did.

Monologue For Ashley and Will

What I want all of you to walk away with, is that without me, none of this would be happening.

I first met Will in the summer of 2002 when he was acting in a play I wrote, “A Random Act of Creation.” It was being produced in Tucson, Arizona, where he was spending the summer being an actor and I was packing my stuff to move to San Francisco that fall. Will played the god Thor and wore super-tight leather pants. That’s pretty much all you need to know about Will’s youth, and the kind of plays I wrote in my early twenties.

I first met Ashley in the spring of 2009 when I was holding auditions for a production of “The Frogs.” Ashley auditioned for one of the frogs, and despite some really excellent Frog Moves, I did not cast her, but remembered her audition and later that summer cast her in another play as a peasant girl who is abducted by a king who wishes to marry her, but she regains her freedom with the help of a talking magic fish. That’s pretty much all you need to know about Ashley, period, and the kind of plays I wrote in my late-twenties.

One of those plays was a larger, expanded version of the magic fish story, which opened here in San Francisco in 2010. This play, called “Giant Bones”, was based on a collection of short stories by a writer named Peter S. Beagle, of whom Will happens to be an ardent fan. On the opening night of the show, Peter’s agent, Connor, was planning to throw the cast and crew a very fancy party in an art gallery over looking Union Square, with Peter in attendance, and audience members who wished to attend could purchase a special ticket that allowed them to do so. Will, fan that he is of both Peter and myself, decided this was something not to be missed, purchased a ticket to the show and a flight to San Francisco, and flew out for the gala of “Giant Bones.” About the same time, as if by fate, Ashley, who was friends with a number of people involved with the show, also purchased a ticket to the gala night of “Giant Bones.”

What I want all of you to walk away with, is that without my “Giant Bones”, none of this would be happening.

Anyway, the party was amazing. It had the three true signifiers of success: 1) an open bar; 2) sushi; and 3) a dude in a tux playing a harp. Everybody who is almost somebody was there, like probably 60 people, and at some point between beer 2 and 15 I notice that there is this tall blonde kid in a suit who keeps smiling at me but to be honest I hadn’t seen Will in 8 years by that point and I didn’t recognize him so I just assumed what I always assume in these situations which is that I must have slept with him. Because of this, at some point, I apparently leaned over and told Ashley, “Hey. Go find out if that guy’s gay.” Turns out the answer is no.

What I want all of you to walk away with, is that we never know when or how or where the most important person in our life is going to make their appearance… but if we’re lucky, it’s through the most whimsical means possible, and within 8 feet of an open bar… or at the very least, in a city by the sea, full of glass and iron towers, and mysterious fog banks and lonely piers, and exsquisite little parks and coffee shops and all the other magical things you can explore like Will and Ashley did, together, the whole rest of his first trip out here.

Like all good stories, there is a mixture of magic and hardship and when two young people who live in different cities and are on different trajectories with their lives meet, the inevitability of the hardship is almost as surefire as the magic. It was not always easy after that first incredibly easy, incredibly magical weekend. As someone friendly with both parties, it was often times as heartbreaking as it was heartwarming to watch Will and Ashley’s relationship grow and deepen, but I have to say what always both impressed and inspired me was their unflagging respect and admiration for each other, and their refusal to stop caring for one another, even when life was pulling them in opposite directions. I think to fully understand the relationship of these two people you have to realize that both Will and Ashley fundamentally believe in love at first sight, and that such a belief is fundamentally courageous, and requires people with both fluid imaginations and huge, open, gaping wounds of hearts. And while I’m not saying that my belief that when two such people meet they should never let go of one another informed my decision to offer Will a role in my 2011 production of “Twelfth Night”, I’m fairly certain that it was Ashley’s belief in such things that gave her the courage to suggest it to me. And it really was a brave thing to do, especially as they weren’t together at the time- and she was playing the lead in the show. And it was a really brave thing for him to say yes, and give up the familiar things of his life, and move to a strange city for a summer, and parade around in a pair of tights, all for a possibility that was only supposed to be vaguely, faintly possible.

But what I want all of you to walk away with, is that because their love is true, and because their love is brave, all this is happening.

Theater Around The Bay: Going Dark

Lest you think Theater Around The Bay, our catch-all column for general Bay Area Theater news and discussion, exist only so Stuart can rant, we thought we’d change it up this week and bring you a more somber bit of news from Theater In The Woods, who are part of the parent organization (Atmostheatre) that provides Theater Pub with its non-profit status and helped get us established. Karen Offereins, the Artistic Director of Theatre in the Woods, gives us a history of the project that recently closed its doors after a ten year success story.

In 2002, five actors who met at a Studio A.C.T. class started a theatre company called Theatre in the Woods in Woodside.  The first outdoor production was a combination of monologues and scenes featuring the five actors (and two ensemble performers) called Conversations in the Woods.  It ran two weekends, with two shows back-to-back each day for an audience of twelve for each performance.  Our audience was led by a guide to various spots on the five acre property where different scenes took place.  An entire summer was spent clearing a forest, setting up performance spots, building a mini stage, and preparing for the show.  Just for fun.  And to see if it could be done.

L-R: Karen Offereins, Victor Carrion, Brian Markley,
Gina Baleria, Bill Sorgen, Kari Wolman, and Reagan Richey

I am one of those five actors, and I think I can say for all the co-founders that we didn’t think we’d do more than that one show.  And we certainly never thought that we’d end up selling out three of our past four productions, entirely.  After ten years, eleven productions, and many changes to our small staff, I’m still amazed at what we created from such a small core group of people.  We produced all but one show at our outdoor forest site, mostly incorporating our trademark of using multiple locations in the forest for each production.  In 2006 we changed our company name from Theatre in the Woods to AtmosTheatre when we decided to expand to San Francisco and produced our first show there in the backyard of a hair salon, two one act plays by John Patrick Shanley that we called Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

Working with and in outdoor theatre is a real challenge.  And for us, we had to do everything from scratch.  This involved building many projects:  a mini stage, a full size stage, a bridge, a shed, picnic tables, and an amphitheatre with seating carved out of a hillside and another full size stage facing it, with Harrington Creek in-between.

The Harrington Amphitheatre, designed by Brian Markley

The amount of blood, sweat, and tears that went into producing our shows was only matched by what went into working at what we call, “The Land.”  I can’t quite describe what it was like, except to say that watching the reactions of our audiences when they visited our bit of forest for an afternoon hike and theatre show made it all worth while.  And I can shamelessly say that I think that people who got to see our shows were lucky.

A still from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” in 2007.

“Why go dark?  Well, the need to do so all comes down to what so much of theatre depends on (outside of talent), resources.  While we were able to easily take part in the acting roles, we were not so good at finding big time donors/sponsors/grants or people (especially with their own transport) for our staff.  You might think that selling out our shows would make it easy to afford our costs, but even the large successful theatre companies need major donors and sponsors to keep afloat.  The lack of financial assistance and core company members proved to be too big of a hardship for the remaining few of us who were already finding it difficult to manage fulltime jobs along with keeping our theatre company running.  So we decided to end our adventures at The Land, having created sold-out shows that delighted our audiences and having made long lasting relationships with artists and crew that will continue to live on and grow.  Not a shabby way to end to our story.  For now.

Our credits:  Conversations in the Woods (2002), The Woods (2003), No Exit (2004), The Ives of March (in August)? (2005),Rosencrantz & Guildernstern Are Dead (2006), Wash, Rinse, Repeat (2006, in San Francisco), A Midsummer Night’s Dream (2007),Freedomland (2008), The Frogs (2009), Alice in Wonderland (2010), and Twelfth Night (2011).

This is all relevant to this blog because San Francisco Theater Pub was founded in 2009 by AtmosTheatre company members: Stuart Bousel, Victor Carrion, Bennett Fisher, and Brian Markley.  Victor had often talked about a “Theater Pub” venue inspired by Joe’s Pub in New York, where we might expand our productions into San Francisco in a space that would be part bar, part theatre stage.  Via the efforts of Stuart, Ben, Brian, and Victor, and an existing relationship with Cafe Royale’s then owner and AtmosTheatre, SF Theater Pub was born. I feel truly fortunate to have been a part of it, to have shared it with so many people, and to have been able to end our tenure on such a high note.  We may return someday.  We weren’t able to say to each other that we’d never come back.  And based on our patrons’ responses to the announcement of our going dark, we’ll have an audience to return to.  That’s something to be quite proud of.

Brian Markley, Karen Offereins, and Victor Carrion, the remaining co-founders thank their collaborators and audiences.

Karen Offereins has been the Artistic Director of AtmosTheatre for six years and is a Bay Area actor, producer, and director.  More information about AtmosTheatre can be found at their web site – www.atmostheatre.com.

Victor Carrion Talks About His Return To Theater Pub

This week we catch up with Victor Carrion and find out more about his return to Theater Pub after a year-long hiatus, plus all the details on HIT TRIP FALL RUN DREAM STICK SLEEP, a new performance piece about the early days of AIDS research that Victor will be premiering at Theater Pub on Tuesday, June 12.

What was your past involvement with Theater Pub?

As a co-founder and producer, I helped get the Pub project started. I wrote for Pint Sized Plays, I contributed some writing to The Odes of March, and directed Short Attention Span Shorts: Theater for the Inattentive.

You’ve been gone for more than a year. What were you up to during your hiatus?

I got appointed to the Mental Health Oversight and Accountability Commission for the State of California by the State Attorney General. This Commission oversees the monies derived from Proposition 63, the Mental Health Services Act. This Act stipulates that those individuals that have an income greater than $1 million pay 1% taxes towards this fund. This legislation has helped the development of many programs geared towards improving health access, providing housing for homeless individuals and reducing mental health stigma.

Well… that sounds… amazingly impressive. So how does it feel to be back at the Cafe Royale with a bunch of theater kids?

Great! I have always felt that theater makes my life and work better. Theater helps me explore human behavior using a different lens.

Tell us more about this coming project- what’s it like?

Different. For one, the subject, AIDS in the 80s, is very somber for a pub, but therein lies the beauty of Theater Pub. It’s a place to experiment. During this evening we will be examining how messages are conveyed to the audience during a typical play in comparison to, say, the reading of a story. Both story and play tell the same narrative in different style, and from the perspectives of different characters.

What personally drew you to this subject material?

I trained as a doctor during this time. I was also coming out during this time. The experience of learning to express your sexuality in an environment charged with fear of death and fear of self-expression linked specifically to sexuality, along with the pressure of needing to perform professionally, is something I’m still processing today. The writer of the story and the play, James D. Lock, trained during the same time and faced the same issues. He does a wonderful job in describing the conflicts of being a young gay doctor in the 80s. In addition, we see how AIDS had an impact on all trainees regardless of sexual orientation. Themes of homophobia, both internalized and externalized, are present throughout. The audience is invited to assess how far have we come.

What do you hope the audience will get out of it?

The desire to learn more. For example, to learn how societal pressures can have an impact on sexual expression, or how a particular time in history can influence a whole generation.

What are you up to next?

I am enjoying directing, but I also like writing and acting. I want to explore all of these with the time they deserve. I want to continue working with Theater Pub, helping to produce the upcoming shows and perhaps performing and writing for some of them. Soon, I will also be helping to plan for the 2013 season of Theatre in the Woods.

What are you looking forward to in the SF theater scene?

More venues, more pushing of the imaginary limits of theater and more audience!!

Don’t miss HIT TRIP FALL RUN DREAM STICK SLEEP, this Tuesday, June 12th, starting at 8 PM, for one night only. Admission is FREE, with a suggested $5.00 donation at the door!