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.
 

Beginnings

When, exactly, does the theatrical production begin?

With the playwright’s final draft of the script? This is a blue print only; the show itself will be a completely different production with each cast and crew. Theater is a collaborative art. Still, the playwright is the genesis of the play, without a doubt.

Does the production begin with the first production meeting? The director and the designers gather to share the vision for the production. The artists who will collaborate to shape the visual and aural impact of the production share their ideas and insights about this play. This particular incarnation of the show begins to be realized with this first production meeting.

Or does the production begin with the first rehearsal? The actors gather with the director and production stage manager to share a close reading of the script- out loud—together—for the first time.

Any of these might be considered the beginning of the production.

Our first rehearsal for Unshelved was this week. Frigid temperatures and piles of snow did not deter our intrepid cast from meeting – for the first time.

A first rehearsal is something like a first date- but you already know that you are married. You’ve already committed. There is no turning back!

For the director, seeing the actors assembled and hearing them read together for the first time is exciting—but it can also provoke a bit of nervousness. Will the right relationships happen with these actors? As a guest director, I traveled to Chicago months before rehearsals were to begin for the auditions and casting. Time constraints meant that although I saw each of my actors several times, I didn’t have the opportunity to see these actors working together. I knew, I had every confidence, that this was my Audrey, this was my Bill, this was my Rye, this was my Eloise. Yet I hadn’t seen Debra working with Mike; I hadn’t seen Johnny working with Michelle.

Will this assembly work?

I am happy to report that this assembly will work, and work beautifully.

For more information on how you can engage with this production- at every "stage" of the process- click here.

*Use discount code "Audrey10" when ordering your ticket to save $10!

I hate this play (again)

It's that time again.

Actors are calling for "line!" right and left. Entrances are late. Props are forgotten.

I have given the same note to the same actor EIGHTEEN TIMES.

(Well, maybe only twelve. Okay, maybe only seven. BUT A LOT, OKAY?)

It looks like tech is just around the corner.

If I didn't know, from long experience, that this always happens, I would be more panicked than I am.

But, this always happens.

And, of course, I always panic.

I understand why it happens: We've pulled the play apart to work on individual moments, and now it feels like bits and pieces of something that will never come together.

It's hard to get the overall sweep of the play, when working the individual moments/scenes/details.

Especially with Brecht's deliberately episodic structure.

AND of course the actors are not confident of their lines...

So I panic.

I always do.

But- usually- somehow, through theater magic, it all comes together.

Here is hoping that theater magic is about to happen!

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.

building ensemble, building community

I have founded two successful youth theater troupes. Now that I have retired from both, I can look back on what was accomplished.

Both the troupes were successful. Both went through phases of growth and development, sometimes exhilarating and sometimes frustrating. There were challenges that led to growth, and challenges that led to breakups and break downs. There were opportunities that were seized and opportunities that were missed.

Both troupes were successful in financial terms: while I was actively operating the troupes, every production finished in the black. We ultimately grew to a point that we were able to pay guest artists, and then directors.

We served hundreds of young people in learning more about the art of theater by doing the art of theater.

We served thousands of young people by bringing live theater- performed *well* by young artists- to audiences in schools, camps, libraries and parks over two decades. I firmly believe we have helped develop the audience and the participants for live theater for the next generation.

What I am most proud of is the ensemble of artists we created, and the community that we built.

In our best years, members of our troupe learned through experience that the whole of the production is greater than the sum of each of our individual efforts; that our best work makes the work of our co-creators better, that their work makes our own work better, and that by giving generously to the other artists on stage and backstage, we enrich ourselves and our audience.

We shared pot-luck marathon tech rehearsals and late night after-glows. We created a community by building on shared experiences.

In our community, we shared marriages, divorces, illnesses, deaths, births, graduations.

Perhaps one day I will be a part of building another such ensemble. Whether or not this happens in the future, our shared past has made me a richer and wiser woman. Thanks to all of you.

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.

Ensemble

My job is essentially over. For the director, opening night is the closing of the work.

I still have a few things to do- in this particular production, I am giving a curtain speech to set up the audience- but in the main, what I can do, I have done.

And there is still so much more being done.

I am reminded, as I watch the emails fly back and forth among the cast and crew, of what a truly collaborative art theater is.

There are those coming early to set up tech, coming a bit later to set up concessions, others are bringing long staplers to put the programs together.

Some are bringing signs; some are bringing repaired props or costumes.

We are just a few hours from opening.

From theater magic!

the legacy

Michigan Youth Theatre: The Vision




Over the past decade, we have created something truly special. Michigan Youth Theater is about more than art: it is about acceptance. It is about collaboration. It is about love for our partners and the dramatic work we collectively create. MYT is a unique place where teens, during their most tumultuous years, can come together to create, share, and flourish in this atmosphere of love and acceptance. As founder of MYT, it has always been my belief that this is the artistic environment that fosters the greatest and highest art. This is a safe place where difficult issues can be explored, respectfully, without judgment or fear of rejection. We welcome everyone, regardless of race, socioeconomic status, gender, sexual orientation, religion, nationality. Anyone who is respectful and accepting of others will be respected and accepted by us.





This is the MYT Vision. This is our creed. If we do not adhere to these founding principles, MYT will no longer exist.





Lisa Hodge Kander

Artistic Director, 2000-2011

Founder, Michigan Youth Theater

Ensemble

Ensemble is tremendously important to me. The idea of each of us contributing to the greater whole is inspirational; and in my own experience, when this is working, the result is far greater than the sum of the individual contributions. When ensemble is really working, each of us is driven, challenged, LIFTED into doing BETTER than our best work.

Ensemble is one of the guiding principles in how I choose the scripts I choose. Significant acting for everyone. Room to grow.

Ensemble is a delicate atmosphere. It is difficult to foster, easy to destroy. It is based on respect: respect for the art, respect for the process, respect for each artist and for the art in oneself.

Stanislavski described every element of the theater experience, from the hat check girl to the usher to actors to the director to the janitor, being a part of that art. A part of the ensemble.

And we must respect every part. And we must love every part.