Low Hanging Fruit- Q & A

Q & A- There are a lot of questions for directors. Some of these are questions you ask yourself as you read the script. Some are questions from actors. Some are questions for research, to broaden one's understanding of the play.

Sometimes, the questions are interviews that help to market the play :-)

Here is a Q & A session for Low Hanging Fruit by Robin Bradford.

 

What is Low Hanging Fruit about in your own words?

Low Hanging Fruit tells the story of four ex-military women, broken and damaged by their experiences, who find ways to survive and cope on the streets through their friendship. Their bond is challenged when they are joined by a young teen runaway. For me, the real story is not only the shameful abandonment of the women who have served our country, but also the power of friendship to support and sometimes heal us, even when we are badly broken.

 

What was the most surprising discovery you made about female veterans during your research and work on Low Hanging Fruit?

There have been so many surprises in the research on female veterans. I was surprised to learn that female veterans are the fastest growing segment of the homeless population. I was shocked to learn of the statistics on Military Sexual Trauma (MST). MST is sexual assault or sexual harassment experienced during a person’s military service. The Veteran Administration’s own statistics, from screening questions asked of every veteran seeking health care, reports 1 in 4 women respond with “yes” when asked if they have experienced MST. Often, the sexual trauma is inflicted by another service officer, frequently a superior. As Alice says in the play, “You get sent to places like Iraq, Afghanistan, places that ain’t safe. At least we should’ve been safe in the green zone! But we got to fight there too, and that ain’t right.” Too true- it ain’t right.

Is there a part of the story you relate to or feel strongly about and why?

I identify strongly with the bond formed among the four women. There is power in friendship that grows out of shared experience. All four of these women have seen combat. They have a shared emotional vocabulary, and in creating their own bulwark in the urban combat zone, they have lived a new shared history of struggle. To a lesser degree, I have had that deep friendship and support with other women. You get to know one another, you know what will make your friend laugh, what will make her fall apart, how to help her pull it together. With just a glance, you can ask for an assist or a save from your own trials.

Another strong connection is the recognition that while we can support one another, each of us comes to healing in our own time, on our own terms.

Or not.

Before working on this play, what was your level of awareness of the hardships many women veterans face?

I have to confess that I didn’t know much about the additional challenges faced by women veterans. Of course, there has been plenty of news coverage of the many failures of our support systems for our veterans. Like most of us, I generalized these news reports and had the stereotypical male soldier in mind. However, I did not realize the extraordinary impact on our service women and their families of military service. Because military service has been overwhelmingly male, the system for serving veterans is built on a male model, with little allowance for women’s different needs. Add to this that women are more often single parents, women veterans have even more challenges when deployed, and when returning. It’s been eye-opening, to say the least.

 

What do you intend for the audience to take away with them after attending a performance Low Hanging Fruit?

I want the audience to have a greater awareness of the problems faced by female veterans. Through our performance, and also through the post-show panels, I hope that the audience will recognize that there is a need, that there is work to be done. The homeless are often nearly invisible to those of us in more advantaged lives; female homeless veterans, even more so. I also hope that the message comes across that healing is possible, and, through our performances and the engagement programs we’ve developed, that each individual in that audience can do something to help that healing.

 

What are your thoughts on working with a cast of both professional and student actors? Do you have a rehearsal anecdote to share on the subject?

I love working with both professional and student actors. I think it’s a great opportunity for both the professionals and the students! The professionals bring a great work ethic, tremendous focus and discipline. All these are great models for the students to see and emulate.

The students bring great vitality, and a fresh perspective. It’s wonderful to see those “ahah!” moments of discovery and get excited again about the magic that is the theater process!

Directing and mentoring/teaching seem a great pairing to me. As a director, I am a collaborator. I work to create an atmosphere of creative freedom, and forge an ensemble with strong connections and sharing among the actors. The root of “educate” is “to draw out, to bring out, to lead forth”- to draw out the student’s understanding, to encourage the student to make connections. In the best cases, to guide the student to find their own path, their own understanding.

Much the same can be said of directing.

What do you do, exactly?

"So," my friend said. "You're the director, right? So what do you do, exactly?"

She'd just watched the play I directed. It was the first time she'd seen a play that I'd directed; I think it was the first time she'd watched a play when she knew the director personally.

Great question. It's also a tough question to answer for a theater person talking to a non-theater person.

I've written before about the value of the director. There, I noted that the work of the director is often almost invisible to the audience.

What do I do?

Often, I choose the play. Sometimes I'm invited to direct a play that has been chosen by the producer or the theater company. Sometimes, I write the play!

Usually, I cast the play. I've written about this a time or two. Casting is an important part of the director's work. Finding actors that fit the characters, and actors that work well together, and work well with the director, is a delicate and challenging job.

With the stage manager, I work out the rehearsal schedule.

I work with the designers- scenic, costume, sound, lighting, promotion- in creating a unified look, sound, feel for the production.

I lead the actors in rehearsing the play. This is the largest part of the director's work, certainly in terms of time. For me, one of the most critical, and hardest to define, elements of this process is creating ensemble. I work to create an atmosphere of trust and freedom, which I believe is essential to the creative process.

Together with the actors, we study the script in depth. Who are these characters? What are they doing? Why are they taking these actions? What does all of this mean?

Then, we "put the play on its feet." Blocking is the choreographing of the characters' movements on the stage. In my process, this is a shared discovery with the actors. Moving in the outline of our set in the rehearsal hall, we find when characters are approaching one another, when fleeing from one another. When are they embracing, or longing to embrace? When are they retreating? When are they attacking?

And why are they moving? All action on stage must have purpose.

Much of this work is breaking the action down, moment by moment, beat by beat. Then we have the task of putting it all back together. I watch while we run through first the acts, then the entire play.

I take notes. I've written about how I give notes.

These are the main tasks of the director. However, what I do is really difficult to describe. I'm the first, best, most appreciative and most critical audience eye for the production. I take a blueprint on the page, and a group of individuals, and create a unity, a oneness, an ensemble.
 

Everybody ought to have a stage manager.

Stage managers are awesome. A good stage manager is beyond price. No kidding.

I really didn't realize this back when I was a young actor. I focused on the director. I focused on the other actors. I worked on my inner reality.

I heard the stage manager. I called back, "Thanks, 10!" when I heard the announcement "Ten minutes to places!"

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't rude. I wasn't one of those actors who thinks the stage managers or other techies are unworthy of notice. Not at all! I've always been an ensemble gal, so I felt keenly that every single person involved was part of our team.

However, as a young actor, who had not directed, or designed, or run lights, or plotted sound- I had NO CLUE. I was ignorant.

Now, having been blessed several times with good stage managers (and blighted a few times with poor ones), I cannot sing their praises loudly enough.

Stage managers are superheroes.

They have super powers- like super hearing. A stage manager will overhear an actor muttering about fumbling and stumbling during a scene transition, and suddenly there is glow tape on the problematic corner or an additional blue light backstage.

They have stamina and unbelievable endurance. They are with the production from the first production meeting or read through on to closing night.

They are masters of multi-tasking. They are monitoring lines from the actors, cues for the lights and the sound, tracking the props.

They are flexible and adaptable beyond belief, working with last minute blocking changes from directors or finding solutions to scenic or costume change fails during last tech rehearsals or even (Heaven FORBID) during performance.

I've directed for many years now, and I've designed, and I've crewed. I am no longer without a clue.

I know.

All praise to you, stage managers. You are the glue that keeps a production together through the battering of tech and the wear and tear of performance.

As the old joke goes:
- How many stage managers does it take to change a ligh-
DONE!

for the love of the game

The opening ceremonies for the 2012 Olympics were held recently. Theater and the Olympics both trace their roots to the ancient Greeks.

When I was growing up the Olympic athletes were amateurs, not professionals. I've used the words "amateur" and "professional"- and the Olympics- as conversation starters in teaching theater.

The definition of "amateur" is contrasted with "professional". The connotation- and even, these days, the definition- of amateur includes the idea of unskilled, lacking in competence, or a dilletante.

The definition of professional, on the other hand, includes the ideas of expertise, great skill, and learning.


Originally, the words were not antonyms of one another. At one time, professional meant that you were paid for your work (or that you were one of the "learned professions"- such as law).

And the word amateur comes from the Latin for love.

An amateur does what they do for the love of it; a professional does what they do as their occupation, to earn a living. As in the Olympics, the amateur is not necessarily unskilled; the amateur can be one of the best in the world.

And so it is with theater. Some of the greatest innovations and triumphs of theater have come from amateurs, or those who began as amateurs. I do not suggest for a moment that actors, directors, stage managers, designers, technicians or any of the myriad artists of the theater should not be paid. I would merely like to suggest that if some of us still have a "day job" that our work should not be ignored or assumed to be of poor quality.

Whether or not one holds an Equity card does not determine the excellence of the work. It is up to each artist to give passion, effort, intensity and creativity to the task at hand.

For the love of the game.

Conversations about ensemble

The troupe that I founded and from which I have retired is changing and evolving. I was flattered to recently be asked a question about the changes being contemplated by the group.
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The question was:

A question has arisen as the troupe has been trying to standardize some of its policies and to plan for its growth.  It was suggested that the troupe become a two-tiered organization, having a level for beginning actors and another for advanced, more experienced actors.  With this set up, the troupe would be offering open auditions twice a year, with all being cast.  The third show would be an invitation-only audition with no casting guarantees.

I (this board member wrote) am not convinced that the suggested two-tiered approach is representative of our mission.  To me, having two-tiers contrasts with our ensemble approach and sets up competition instead of encouraging mentoring.  Also, we stress the importance of theater for all teens and how it can benefit them, and I feel that by limiting it to "talented" teens, even only for one show, that we are not fully living up to this mission.

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The board member requested my input as founder, as one there when the mission was originally crafted.

I responded:

This issue has been brought up from time to time; as you note, it is a thorny issue. In past years, we had tossed around ideas of invitation only shows; having limits to how many were *in* the troupe, period - so, a membership cap, with guaranteed casting once you were "in"; having an educational track open to all with advancement to the troupe following; and Travel Troupe as a solution.

When we first formed the organization, it was seen as a spin off of the (younger) 4-H performing arts club I'd founded, which we imagined might be a sort of "feeder" troupe (all very informal- don't tell 4-H on us!). The 4-H club was where younger actors, and newer actors, could explore without pressure. The new troupe was where the "serious" actors went.

Well, that didn't work out past the "first generation"; partly due to my time constraints, and partly due to the changing group dynamics, the 4-H club became less and less active- what vital parent support we had had shifted to the new teen troupe.

In the early years, in a very real way, Travel Troupe was the elite troupe. It was started by invitation with longer time members and presented quality shows for a few years.

Something else- on a couple of occasions - one being Zoo Story- one of the troupe asked for a specific project, which the board approved and sponsored. This was youth initiated and formally requested. So, that is one route: a core group of artists find a project they would like to do, and ask the board to approve and sponsor it.

An interesting note to me is that the intermittent pressure and/or calls for an "elite" squad always seemed to come from those (or the parents of those) who had been "newbies" recently, felt that they had "arrived", and were now looking down on the "newbies". The call *never* came from folks like my son A, like MD, like DH or AG, long-timers who had experienced the magic of successful ensemble.

So, having said all that: You are looking at a core dilemma for theater. Collaboration vs. competition. A (I believe - false!) dichotomy between ensemble and excellence.

This is what I believe: there are many, many organizations that force actors to compete to participate. There are few that work to build ensemble.

I believe that ensemble *can be* a path to excellence. However, there is a requirement that in order to build ensemble, you have to spend time- not one show but several shows, not one season but many seasons. If you are in it for the long haul, you know your time and your role will come. You look at the success of the season and the troupe.

It may be that there is no longer a large enough "core" of artists who have been working and have experienced making the whole greater than the sum of the parts. It does take continuity.

I do not have answers for the evolving organization; as has been noted many times, the organization is changing and evolving to what it will be from what it has been. I hope my comments, such as they are, may be of some assistance.

My life in Theater Art

My Life in Theater Art

I fell in love with the theater when my sixth grade teacher read Taming of the Shrew aloud to the class. I went to the Stratford Festival and saw great theater- and not so great. I started acting in high school and from that day to this I have performed in, produced, written and directed hundreds of shows.

I love the transformational power of theater. Theater saved my life, giving an awkward, introverted girl a community and a shared experience of power and energy and connection. I have seen this magic work again and again on actors, crew, designers, directors, -everyone, as Stanislavsky would say, including the hat check girl. I love the power of ensemble: the very real experience that together, our whole is far greater than the sum of our individual parts.

I hate theater that despises its audience. Without the audience, there is no theater. We, as theater artists, must develop our audience, tease, tempt, teach our audience. I don't advocate a "comfortable" theater or a safe theater; I do advocate a theater that seeks and engages the audience.

I have many goals for theater. One personal goal: I would like to see theater artists who are teens- or who work with teens and youth - recognized as (potentially) valid theater artists. Also, expanding on my comment #2 above, I would like to see the work of amateurs- those who do this work for the love of it- to be recognized for the important work that it often has been.

choosing scripts

It has been said that 80%-- or 90%, depending on who is speaking-- of directing is casting the play. I would agree that a great percentage of good directing is selecting the right actor for the role AND the right combination of actors for the production.



However, even before casting, the director must consider the script. Most of the time I have had the luxury of choosing my own scripts. Most directors have at the very least the option to accept or decline the assignment of directing a particular script.



I prefer to work with excellent scripts. Of course, who doesn't? It is more fun and more rewarding to work with great material. However, I think we often overlook another reason: much of the directing work is done for you by a great playwright. Characters are rich, conflicts are strong.



I am most interested in theater as a collaborative art. I believe in the excellence of ensemble over salesmanship of star power. This also influences my selection of scripts.



When I am looking at scripts for a relatively large cast-- 10, 15 or more-- I look for meaty roles for all characters. This is one reason I often choose Shakespeare: even relatively small roles are often rich and juicy.



With a large cast with a number of newer actors, I will often look for a play that has a group of characters that work together. This might be the Elders of Thebes of the Chorus in Antigone, or the street urchins of Oliver Twist. This strategy allows newer actors to get up there on the stage, while still providing the safety of being one of the crowd. In these character groups, however, it is important that the group has action. Being part of a group that are essentially stage decorations does not give the new actors a chance to develop character, goals and focus.

For me, a good script has a great story, strong conflict, engaging characters.