Goodman Theatre

Conversations on Race

2012-01-27T16:07:00.001-06:00

By Nazihah Adil, Institutional Giving Assistant

On January 18, Goodman Theatre hosted an Artist Encounter featuring Race. Through intimate conversations about the process of creating theater, the Artist Encounter series connects audiences with theater artists who bring productions to life on stage. The Race event engaged attendees in a conversation that both illuminated the production and acted as a catalyst for deeper exploration into its themes. With the Chicago Sun-Times’ Laura Washington as moderator of the conversation, Goodman Resident Director and director of Race Chuck Smith took to the stage alongside a distinguished group of theater artists to discuss the role of artists in advancing dialogue about race in America.

One panelist, Teatro Luna co-founder Coya Paz, maintained that theater should be “at the forefront of civic discourse.” Its capacity to challenge audiences to think critically and proactively about contemporary issues raised by the plays on stage and its power to impact tangible social change is unparalleled. This is especially true at a theater like the Goodman, whose commitment to the city it serves both on and off the stage is reflected in the institutional values of quality, diversity and community. In Race, the latest work by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright David Mamet, two high-profile lawyers—one black, one white—are called upon to defend a wealthy white client accused of raping a young African American woman. This compelling crime mystery is a ruthless examination of guilt and oppression set against the backdrop of the complex legal system. True to its name, Race delves into the complex minefield of race, sex, gender and class.

Race is but one of the productions this season that reflects the diversity of our community and our nation. Over the last 30 years, the Goodman has made cultural diversity the fabric of the institution, beginning with the work on stage and continuing into its relations in the community. Included in the 2011/2012 Season are two world premiere productions, The Convert and Fish Men, both by writers of color, and a revival of the gospel musical sensation, Crowns, written and directed by Goodman Artistic Associate Regina Taylor. The Goodman sustains its commitment to cultural diversity through a variety of artistic and education and community engagement initiatives, including the development and production of new plays featuring artists of color, the expansion of the New Stages Series, collaborations with culturally specific theater companies, and the diverse artists of the Goodman Artistic Collective, whose talents and ideas allow the Goodman to give voice to a wide range of visions.

Race is not the conversation about race, but a conversation, which, as Smith articulated, sounds the “opening bell” for an honest discussion of a complex issue. Coupled with its education and community initiatives and the remainder of the diverse works in the 2011/2012 Season, the Goodman promises to offer a season reflective of the diversity of the society in which we live.

Mission: Homefront

2012-01-20T15:16:00.004-06:00

By Willa J. Taylor, Director of Education and Community Engagement

The transition from war zone to home front can often be difficult for the troops returning, their families and their communities. In recognition of the official withdrawal of troops from Iraq, Goodman Theatre, in collaboration with partners across the city, presents a series of events for military personnel, their families and our community to foster conversations and spark dialogue about the price of freedom.

Our Mission: Homefront events kicked off with Community Day on December 31, 2011 and was followed by the first presentation of Theater of War on January 18. Just this morning, Aaron Hughes, of the Warrior Writers Project, and Rachael Hudak, of the Neighborhood Writing Alliance, led a public reflective writing workshop exploring “Radical Vulnerability” (hosted at the National Veterans Art Museum). Check out our upcoming events—we'd love to see you there!

Photo: Elizabeth Laidlaw as Ajax in a reading of Sophocles' Ajax. Photo by Teresa Rende.

Discovering Mamet's Race

2012-01-13T11:06:00.004-06:00

By Charlie O'Malley, Literary Intern

“When a white person asks a black person a question such as, ‘What is it like to be black?’ the black person knows that it is not a question as a means of inquiry and discovery, but a test for which the white person perceives a right or wrong answer of which that white person is presumed to be the judge. This it seems to me is the role that David Mamet has assumed as the author of Race, and his authority, ability and means to do so is not because of any scholarship or social practice that may give him any particular insights into issues of race, but because he is an entitled, privileged white male in contemporary American society whose name is David Mamet.”

So said Carlyle Brown, playwright, performer and author of Dartmoor Prison, presented in the Goodman’s 2011 New Stage Amplified Series, in a discussion on David Mamet’s play Race, moderated by the Florida Studio Theatre. Mamet’s play has created a firestorm of discussion since its 2009 New York premiere. The Goodman is very excited to bring the discussion to Chicago this winter, and if you haven't already you can buy tickets here.

Race tells the story of three lawyers, two of them African American and one of them white, who find themselves facing the task of defending a white man accused of raping a black woman. In an electrifying display of the tight plotting and rich dialogue for which he is renowned as a dramatist, he weaves a thorny web of suppositions, half-truths and ingrained biases. Mamet’s play begins a discussion on race but the play itself becomes both the discussion forum and the discussion topic at the same time, raising the question: can we talk about race and can we talk about talking about race?

In an article published in The New York Times about the play, Mamet wrote, “As a Jew, I will relate that there is nothing a non-Jew can say to a Jew on the subject of Jewishness that is not patronizing, upsetting or simply wrong. I assume the same holds true among African Americans.” These words are very closely paraphrased in Race by the character Susan. This is just the beginning of the paradoxical whirlwind of debate that the play creates.

Race begins performances tomorrow night! Directed by Goodman Resident Director Chuck Smith, and with a cast of Goodman favorites (Patrick Clear and Marc Grapey) and newcomers (Geoffrey Owen and Tamberla Perry), the Goodman’s production promises to challenge and question, and will be supported by a series of enrichment events, including an Artist Encounter discussion on January 18 ($5 general public, free for Subscribers and students) and CONTEXT event on February 6 (free, reservations required).

Race Starts Next Week!

2012-01-06T14:45:00.004-06:00

Now that the festive Christmas Carol season is behind us we're looking forward to our next play, David Mamet's Race. Race, a swift 90-minute drama, chronicles what happens when a pair of lawyers—one black, one white—are called to defend a wealthy white client accused of raping a young African American woman. As in most Mamet plays (and in life), the evidence at hand isn't as straightforward as it seems.

Performances of Race start next Saturday, January 14; buy tickets here if you haven't already!

Photo: Geoffrey Owens (Henry), Marc Grapey (Jack) and Patrick Clear (Charles) in rehearsal for Race. Photo by Chuck Osgood.

A First Meeting With A Christmas Carol

2011-12-09T12:56:00.005-06:00

By Ilene Sørbøe, Artistic Intern and Assistant to the Director of A Christmas Carol

I was born and raised in Norway. This August, I moved to Chicago to be an artistic intern at Goodman Theatre for the fall season. I was informed beforehand that I would be working on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I had an idea of the story—its plot, characters and message. What I did not know was the production’s deeply rooted tradition in American theater. It didn’t take me long to realize just how much this Christmas tale means to the Goodman’s audiences.

The holidays are a time of traditions. Year after year, we hang up the same Christmas decorations, eat the same food and listen to the same Christmas music. These actions are more than a routine or a habit. We do them because they are necessary steps towards finding our Christmas spirit. These steps worked last year, and the year before last year—why fix something if it isn’t broken?

Photo: Larry Yando (Ebenezer Scrooge) in A Christmas Carol. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

We ask the same questions every December: How will the turkey turn out this year? What should I wear on Christmas Day? Baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? And small upsets cause just the right amount of delightful variety, without stepping outside of the traditional frame of the Holiday.

I respect and understand these traditions; we have Christmas traditions in Norway too, they just don’t include going to the theater to see A Christmas Carol. But being a passionate theater lover, I cannot explain how excited it makes me to see grandparents holding the hands of their grandchildren entering the theater for the first time. It’s the start of something new, the beginning of a tradition.

Maybe next year, little Andy will not cry when Marley’s ghost appears—after all, he will be a whole year older. Or perhaps Andy will not cry because Marley’s ghost is less frightening than in the production the year before. We collect our memories based on small modifications, comparing this year’s Marley with last year’s Marley. We can handle subtle changes, but we feel alienated if they are too radical—like someone has pushed us outside of the holiday frames we have created.

I am grateful to have been a part of this production of A Christmas Carol and to experience an important Christmas tradition of the American theater. Perhaps A Christmas Carol will now become one of my Christmas traditions—the perfect way to usher me into the holiday mood.

Christmas in the Owen

2011-12-07T16:49:00.003-06:00

By Liz Rice, Education and Community Engagement Intern

With Christmas just a few weeks away, the sights, sounds, and spirits (both literal and theoretical) of the holiday have taken over the Goodman. A Christmas Carol is in full swing in the Albert Theatre, but the Dickensian classic isn’t the only holiday show up and running—on December 5, Congo Square Theatre Company opened their holiday show, an interpretation of the birth of Jesus, The Nativity, in the Owen. Adapted from Langston Hughes’ gospel musical, Black Nativity, The Nativity features not only gospel, but soul, blues and R & B music with extraordinary dance numbers by the cast and soloists Kathleen Purcell Turner (Mary) and Kevin Dirckson (Joseph), who execute the passion and emotion of Mary and Joseph through choreographed modern dance routines.

In the swift two-hour show, the angel Gabriel narrates the birth of Jesus Christ through the gospels of Luke and Matthew. The story begins as Mary is called on by the angel and told that she is the mother of the son of God, and follows her and her betrothed, Joseph, as they travel to Bethlehem and later Egypt. The set calls to mind the arid desert of Israel under Roman rule, and Congo Square mixes in aspects of traditional African culture into the story through tribal dance, costumes, and the use of a stool, a symbol of royalty power for the Ashanti people and other African cultures. Musical numbers like “God is Good” gracefully demonstrate these multicultural mixtures in the pretext of modern music.

The Nativity’s story may be over 2000 years old, but the production is young and fresh, enlivened with pop culture references and memorable and “soul”-ful performances. The Nativity runs through December 31; don’t miss it while it’s here!

My First Christmas Carol

2011-12-05T13:09:00.007-06:00

By Shanequa Beal, Fan and Belinda Cratchit in A Christmas Carol

Today we get a look inside the process of creating A Christmas Carol from one of its youngest cast members, Shanequa Beal.

This is my first time in A Christmas Carol and I love it! Actually, I just love the Goodman Theater! I was kind of nervous when I first walked in because I didn't know if I was going to get along with the adults and the rest of the young performers but they are all really nice. The adults help and comfort us when we really need it. I also really love working with the other young performers, surprisingly we all get along pretty well! I share a dressing room with Emma Gordon. In A Christmas Carol she plays Emily Cratchit and Want. Emma is an absolute sweetheart. We always have fun with each other. Emma is like a little sister that I always wanted.

A Christmas Carol was not a piece of cake. It required a lot of hours of work, memorizing and tons energy! At one point we worked a 50 hour week. Yes, I was really tired and missed school often but it was totally worth it. Honestly, my two favorite scenes are the Fezziwig scene and the last counting house scene. I feel the Fezziwig scene is when we let loose and enjoy ourselves the most. The last counting scene is so funny! Larry Yando is just awesome in general! I actually leave the dressing room early just so I can watch it!

It is an amazing experience to be in the show and I thank everyone, Steve Scott and the rest of the cast, for making me feel as comfortable as possible. If you haven't seen A Christmas Carol, I recommend you to come and see it. Just watch out for Jacob Marley :)

Love,
Shanequa Beal <3 :)

Photo: Emily Gordon (left) and Shanequa Beal (right) in rehearsal for A Christmas Carol. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Behind the Scenes of A Christmas Carol

2011-12-02T12:27:00.004-06:00

Our annual production of A Christmas Carol has opened, officially, and is up and running in the Albert Theatre. Even though we’ve been working from the same script for several years (Tom Creamer’s adaptation), each production of A Christmas Carol is unique in its own way, and this year’s show is a particularly notable contrast from the last several seasons, as it marks the return of Steve Scott at the helm as director.

We spent several weeks in the rehearsal hall with the cast of A Christmas Carol as they worked hard to put together this extravagant production—which features ghosts, flying, choreographed dancing, and many actors slipping in and out of multiple roles—documenting their process. Check out our video, plus additional A Christmas Carol–related goodies, on the Goodman’s YouTube page.

Photo: Ebenezer Scrooge (Larry Yando) and the Ghost of Christmas Present (Penelope Walker) in A Christmas Carol. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Closing, Opening

2011-11-18T13:31:00.006-06:00

New Stages Amplified closes this weekend, with the final few performances of Seth Bockley’s Ask Aunt Susan in the Owen. If you haven’t had a chance to see this irreverent new play—which was inspired by Nathanael West’s 1930s novella Miss Lonelyhearts—do so this weekend; Bockley’s modern spin on the dark and comic Depression-era book is original, fresh, visually dazzling and bound to return to the American stage at a later date, and New Stages Amplified offers you the opportunity to see it now while it’s still in development.

Meanwhile, as one show closes another one opens, and tonight marks the first preview performance of A Christmas Carol. We’ll have much more Carol coverage through the end of the year. For now, check out our interview with its director, Steve Scott, or experience behind-the-scenes videos of A Christmas Carols past on our website.

Go here for tickets to either show.

Photo: Andy Carey (Aunt Susan) in Ask Aunt Susan. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Revisiting the Past, Reanimating the Present

2011-11-16T15:43:00.005-06:00

By Lesley Gibson, Publications Coordinator

The Goodman’s 34th annual production of A Christmas Carol opens this Friday, November 18. This year marks the return of director Steve Scott to the holiday classic after an almost 20-year hiatus at the helm—he last directed the 1989 – 1992 productions. Shortly before rehearsals began, he talked to us about his plans for the production, the ghosts, and the process of tucking surprises into a holiday tradition.

Tickets to A Christmas Carol always sell out quickly—don't miss out!

Photo: Steve Scott in rehearsal for A Christmas Carol. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Lesley Gibson: What is your history with A Christmas Carol at the Goodman?

Steve Scott: I began working with A Christmas Carol while I was still the director of education. I used to go out and lecture to a lot of groups about A Christmas Carol. I would tell them the background of the story and the history of story on stage and off stage, so I was thoroughly indoctrinated into A Christmas Carol before I took over as director, which I did in 1989. I directed four productions of A Christmas Carol from 1989 to 1992. Since then I have been involved each year as the producer of the show. I think I have seen it more than any person on earth, actually [laughs], but it’s always been one of my favorite events at Goodman. I think it is one of the best things we do and it’s certainly has become a tradition for the whole city. It was really wonderful when I got the chance to direct it once more this year.

LG: How is your perspective different with this 20 year break?

SS: My perspective now has changed, certainly since I’m older and in some ways perhaps more cynical and perhaps more Scrooge-like, I think. I am even more affected now than I was before by the transformation that Scrooge makes and the kinds of things he learns, which, I think, is really at the heart of the show. I would hate to identify myself as Scrooge incarnate, but in some ways I think as you get older you do become a little inured to the holiday season. I think it’s even more important as you get older to come back to this story and see how you are reflected in what Scrooge is and how maybe that isn’t so good.

LG: How will this production be different from recent past productions?

SS: Even though it’s the same story, I think different directors bring different emphases to various facets of the story. One of the things that I really enjoyed doing before and want to do again now is to heighten the emotional journey through the story. To me, A Christmas Carol is like an emotional rollercoaster. It’s joyous and happy at one moment, very sad and tragic at another moment, then at another it gets really, really scary. I think the audience gets on at the beginning, and it’s like a ride through a theme park almost where you see lots of different things coming at you very quickly and you respond really viscerally to it. Really, it’s trying to get back to that visceral response that we’ve had with the production in the past.

LG: How do you plan on using some of the more fantastical production elements to achieve that effect?

SS: Certainly something we are always reinvestigating is how to the ghosts appear and how to make those sequences scary and more impactful. We have a couple of tricks we are going to try this year on how to establish the ghosts and making them truly terrifying creatures [laughs]. We’re also renovating some elements of the set so that there is a greater disparity between the feeling of Scrooge and his counting house and all the other places that he visits—especially the Fezziwig scene, which is the site of the happiest moments of his youth. Interestingly, his counting house is in the same building that Fezziwig’s offices were, but we are trying to go for a larger contrast there to see what has happened, what’s decayed through the years, and to see where Scrooge ended up. Also, we are looking at a couple of other elements to make the story a little warmer, the family sequences a little richer, just generally broadening all the emotional context of the show.

LG: I’ve heard this is one of the most diverse Christmas Carol casts we’ve compiled?

SS: It is; A Christmas Carol is a staple of the Goodman’s season and a tradition for many Chicago area families. As a director, I hope to not only present Dickens’ beautiful story, but to show the timelessness of its message by having the production reflect the world we live in today; the community on stage should reflect our community. A diverse cast is paramount in achieving this, and it adds a beautiful authenticity to the play. This is true for all Goodman productions, and any play I direct outside of the Goodman, as well. Theater is all about telling stories—and those stories are made rich by finding a wide variety of voices to tell them. As the American theater progresses, inclusiveness—both for artists and audiences—is essential to make it thrive.

LG: Are there any big surprises?

SS: There are some big surprises, but I’m not going to tell you what they are [laughs]. You are going to have to come and see that.

LG: Why do you think it is important for us to continue to do this year after year?

SS: I think it’s an important story to revisit. It has become a tradition, I think, in a city where almost all of the holiday traditions that we’ve seen have kind of gone away, A Christmas Carol still remains. I think it is one of those events that one loves to experience with one’s loved ones. It has become a hallmark of the whole season of rebirth and reinvestigation and kind of beginning anew. And I think it is an important kind of social message, too, that we are bringing audiences, and I think that’s important to go back and revisit every year for the people who come but also for the artist involved in the show. I think a lot of the people certainly at the Goodman feel the same way about the production and view the coming of A Christmas Carol as a major event in their lives, not just in their professional lives.

LG: Is directing this play different than directing any other show?

SS: Oh, very much so. There are certain elements in the production that always need to be preserved, things that audiences have come to expect over some 30 odd years. So as a director I have to preserve those elements but refresh them so they don’t just become set pieces. When you are directing other shows, you are usually starting from scratch and building from the ground floor. Here you are kind of taking something that has already been established and trying to put your own imprint on it in whatever ways you can, which is an interesting challenge. And in some ways it’s more fulfilling than directing other shows because you have such a rich tradition of things to draw upon. There have been so many wonderful directors attached to this production that have put their imprint on it, and so many actors that have been involved with it; it has such a rich history that it’s wonderful to be able to pull from all of that. It really is a great deal of fun, although it is a different kind of challenge for a director.

LG: What is most fun about it?

SS: I think certainly in the past the thing that I’ve enjoyed the most about directing A Christmas Carol, aside from the audience response which is always very gratifying, is if you do the show the right way, I think there is a real family feeling that builds up with the cast and the crew and the people who are working on the show. It’s a much closer bond than you get with any other production so that through the rehearsal and the performance period—you really grow together. It makes the Christmas celebration really mean a lot more when you have all of these people who are really part of your family that year to celebrate with.

Coming Soon...

2011-11-11T13:52:00.004-06:00

Christmas is slowly taking over downtown Chicago. For weeks now, workers have been busy constructing the Christkindlmarket in Daley Plaza—a block from the Goodman—and since late October the sounds of the season have been wafting through the halls here at the Goodman, courtesy of the rehearsing cast of A Christmas Carol. This week, the set is being built on the Albert stage, and miscellaneous props—artificial gourds, a bed, faux brick buildings—are turning up left and right backstage.

Whether or not one celebrates, enjoys, or can barely tolerate the Christmas season, it’s hard not to look forward to A Christmas Carol. It is, after all, based on the work of Charles Dickens, arguably one of the best story tellers in the history of the English language. Plus, there are ghosts! And time traveling. And actors flying above the stage. And even with all of these fantastical elements, it maintains its integrity as a story of one man’s personal redemption. What’s not to like?

A Christmas Carol starts performances next Friday, November 18.

Aunt Susan and the Age of the Internet

2011-11-08T16:31:00.005-06:00

By Charlie O’Malley, Literary Management and Dramaturgy Intern

Each year, the Goodman’s literary department commissions four Chicago-based playwrights to create new works under the auspices of the Goodman Playwrights Unit. This year we are blessed to be working with Nambi E. Kelly, Elaine Romero, Philip Dawkins and Martín Zimmerman. Each month, the playwrights, Tanya Palmer, our director of new play development, and Neena Arndt, associate dramaturg, all meet to read, discuss and improve upon their projects. Ask Aunt Susan, our final partially produced play of New Stages Amplified, was written by Seth Bockley as part of last year’s Playwrights Unit and begins performances this Thursday in the Owen Theatre. Ask Aunt Susan pointedly looks at identity, anonymity and the nature of honesty in the internet age. The Goodman is thrilled to close the series with this sharp, witty new comedy.

Photo: Andy Carey (Aunt Susan) in rehearsal for Ask Aunt Susan. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Bockley’s play takes its inspiration from Nathanael West’s 1933 novella Miss Lonelyhearts, about a male newspaper reporter in the Great Depression who writes a self help column as “Miss Lonelyhearts.” Ask Aunt Susan tells the story of a man who finds a job responding to desperate pleas of sorrow on a self-help website under the pseudonym “Aunt Susan.” His website quickly becomes a viral hit with a wealth of followers seeking guidance from this loving internet creation. His boss, Steve, wants to monetize the Aunt Susan brand, and his girlfriend, Betty, finds that he can’t share his attention between the woman in his real life and the women in his internet life. The real “Aunt Susan” becomes overwhelmed by the responsibility of listening to countless woes and grows terrified that his true identity will be discovered.

In an age in which Twitter aids in revolutions and Steve Jobs’ death garnered more attention than Gaddafi’s, Ask Aunt Susan questions our reliance on the digital. As we come to define ourselves by our Facebook profiles and answer our all our questions on Wikipedia, our real identities can start to fall by the wayside. Bockley asks: How can we define ourselves in real life when we are so focused on our digital personas? And how can we know that what we see on the internet is true? Ask Aunt Susan is a timely, hilarious and ultimately extremely compelling questioning of who we are and who we can be in the age of the internet.

Each performance of Ask Aunt Susan will be followed by a talkback with artists who worked on the show and led by members of the Goodman’s artistic staff. All audience members are invited to share their thoughts, voice their questions and take part in the process of creating a new work of drama.

Tickets to Ask Aunt Susan start at $10. Don't miss it!

Goings On at the Goodman

2011-11-04T16:26:00.005-05:00

The next few days at the Goodman promise much excitement, with the closing performances of our limited-run production of Kathleen Tolan’s Chicago Boys this weekend, plus a FREE public reading of Laura Jacqmin’s Two Lakes, Two Rivers on Monday. Both shows are part of our ongoing New Stages Amplified series, which continues next week with the opening of our final produced play, Seth Bockley’s Ask Aunt Susan. Each of the New Stages plays features an exclusive look at a new work, plus, the post-show discussions offer a glimpse into the mysterious play development process. Be there.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the Healy rehearsal room A Christmas Carol rehearsals are in full swing. The big loading in of the set into the Albert Theatre began today, and boxed set pieces and shrink-wrapped holiday adornments have been turning up backstage all week. Stay tuned…

Photo: Derek Gaspar and Sandra Delgado in Chicago Boys. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Broadway via Chicago

2011-11-03T16:39:00.005-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

Regular blog readers may recall that after our summer show Chinglish closed, most of the cast headed to New York to take on Broadway. If you’ve been keeping up with the Chicago Tribune, The Economist, or The New York Times, you may have noticed last week our favorite comedy of miscommunication as finally opened on the Great White Way! If you’re in New York, check it out.

Of course, this isn’t the first time a Goodman show has made it to Broadway. The Internet Broadway Database lists more than 20 productions in Broadway history that started at the Goodman. Highlights include:

The 1984 production of Glengarry Glen Ross, featuring Joe Mantegna and Mike Nussbaum.

The 1999 production of Death of a Salesman, with Brian Dennehy.

A Moon for the Misbegotten in 2000, starring Gabriel Byrne and Cherry Jones.

And the 2005 original co-production (with Intiman Theatre) of The Light in the Piazza .

Next time you’re in New York, be on the lookout for Goodman productions!

Photo: Goodman Immediate Past Chairman Patricia Cox, Chinglish Director Leigh Silverman, Playwright David Henry Hwang, and Chairman Ruth Ann M. Gillis at opening night on Broadway.

The Real Chicago Boys: Understanding an Economic Revolution

2011-11-01T16:15:00.009-05:00

By Nazihah Adil, Institutional Giving Assistant

Chicago Boys, the second play in our New Stages Amplified series, explores the economic policies that shaped the 1973 Chilean coup d’état. Named after a group of young Chilean economists who trained largely under the renowned economist Milton Friedman at the University of Chicago or the affiliate Catholic University of Chile, Chicago Boys offers a glimpse into the revolutionary ideas that went on to form the foundations of Chilean economic policy under the regime of Augusto Pinochet.

Photo of Derek Gaspar and Brad Armacost by Michael Brosilow

This set of ideas was heavily influenced by the Chicago school of economics, whose theories rejected Keynesianism, the predominant economic model during the mid-twentieth-century, in favor of monetarism and rational expectations. Simply put, the Keynesian economic model, named after John Maynard Keynes, advocated a mixed economy, one with a predominant private sector—run by private individuals and groups and free from state control—but with a marked government and public sector presence. At the heart of the Chicago School, on the other hand, was its unrelenting advocacy of the free market and little room for government intervention.

In Chicago Boys, the tension between the free market theories of the Chicago School and the socialist views of the supporters of the freely elected Salvador Allende is at its peak. In a covert attempt to counter the spread of developmentalism that threatened the economic stability of the United States, the State Department partnered with the Ford Foundation to establish the “Chile Project,” a project designed to influence Chilean economic thinking. Graduates of this program became known as the Chicago Boys. The ideas promoted by the Chicago Boys went largely unnoticed until the 1973 coup d’état and the fall of Allende. Under the Pinochet regime, the economic policies originally drafted by the Chicago Boys in a confidential report came to the fore. These reforms called for economic liberalization, privatization, and stabilization of inflation. Economic liberalization promoted laissez-faire economics, free from government intervention, while privatization shifted control of publicly owned enterprises into the hands of private individuals and groups.

While the economic policies that grew out of the Pinochet regime remain controversial, the impact of the Chicago Boys and their namesake is unprecedented. Chile is now a regional economic leader, and based on a series of 10 economic measures, its economy was ranked the 10th freest in the world according to the 2010 Index of Economic Freedom.

Night of Two Openings

2011-10-27T11:19:00.004-05:00

Tonight the second of our New Stages Amplified plays begins performances in the Owen, as Kathleen Tolan’s Chicago Boys takes the stage. This will be the second turn in the Owen for Chicago Boys—an earlier draft of the play, which is a fictional account of a young American protégé of economist Milton Friedman who finds himself caught up in the Chilean military coup in the 1970s, was featured as a staged reading in the New Sages festival this past January. As this is the second of our three partially produced plays, Chicago Boys will have only through Sunday, November 6, and tickets start at only $10; be there!

Meanwhile, tonight in New York our summer hit Chinglish officially opens on Broadway. Since the show transferred to New York, playwright David Henry Hwang has been keeping up with his blog—check it out for an update on our favorite bilingual comedy.

Photo: Alfredo Huereca and Derek Gaspar in rehearsal for Chicago Boys. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Seeing Red: Rothko in Pop Culture

2011-10-26T12:23:00.007-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

In Red, playwright John Logan paints Mark Rothko as the anti-cool, anti-pop, anti-name-brand-recognition man. As I watched the play and heard Rothko furiously exclaim the likes of Jasper Johns and Andy Warhol were “…trying to kill [him]!” I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think of his own place in pop culture today. Not only did the thought of a soup can as art infuriate Logan’s Rothko, but he also believed that artists like Jackson Pollock suffered early deaths and artistic stagnation because of their popular success.

In Red, Rothko himself steps back from this direction by recanting his big commercial commission and keeping his work. While he saved the murals the dubious distinction of “over mantels” by pulling them from the Four Seasons before they arrived, he did not save himself from the eye of pop culture. Some might argue that his change of heart made him an even more iconic figure than if he had simply handed the paintings over.

Photo of Edward Gero by Liz Lauren.

Where do these ruminations of popular recognition lie now? It may surprise you just how much pop culture Rothko presently permeates.

Musicians have used Rothko as fodder for their songs, and one 1997 band went so far as to make Rothko their namesake. London’s ambient band, Rothko, continues to release work under their founder’s label, Trace Records.

In September 2008, the popular AMC television series Mad Men featured a Rothko painting in one episode. Burt Cooper, the co-founder of the extremely profitable Sterling Cooper Advertising agency, buys himself a Rothko. A number of employees sneak into his office to see the very expensive painting, and while some describe it as “fuzzy squares,” others have a deeper sense of the work. One employee, Ken Cosgrove, hits the nail on the head in conversation with his colleague, the agency's art director, Sal Romano.

KEN: I don't think it's supposed to be explained.

SAL: I'm an artist, okay? It must mean something.

KEN: Maybe it doesn't. Maybe you're just supposed to experience it. Because when you look at it, you're to feel something, right? It's like looking into something very deep. You could fall in.

In a March 2011 article, author John Naughton aligns colors to culture with GQ’s Pop Culture Color Chart. Rothko appears as color 13 of 30, “Rothko’s Four Darks in Red,” alongsidhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gife comment that such a palate should be available as a Fired Earth interior design scheme (a notion that would surely illicit reaction from Rothko).

Whether in music, print, or TV, Rothko continues to pervade popular culture in more spaces than just canvas, screen, or stage. What would he have to say about that?

News and Notes

2011-10-21T11:28:00.006-05:00

New Stages Amplified is in full swing, with our limited-run production of Dartmoor Prison already coming to a close this Sunday. On Saturday, the night before its last performance, we’ll be hosting an Artists Encounter in the Polk rehearsal room with the playwrights of the three produced New Stages Amplified plays. For an hour starting at 6:30pm, our Director of New Play Development, Tanya Palmer, will moderate a conversation between Carlyle Brown, Kathleen Tolan, Seth Bockley and a small audience.

Artist Encounters are one of our more under-the-radar audience engagement events, and they can be especially informative because their intimate nature—they typically include 50 – 100 audience members—allows attendees to talk directly to the artists, shaping the conversation as it moves along. Plus, they’re free to subscribers, students, and Goodman donors, and only $5 for everyone else. Be there.

Photo: (left to right) Steve Pickering, Charles Stransky, Dexter Zollicoffer, and Will Allan in Dartmoor Prison. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Meanwhile, in other New Stages Amplified news, on Monday evening we’ll feature the first of the New Stages Amplified concert readings, when Noah Haidle’s Smokefall takes to the Owen stage. Regular Goodman patrons might remember Noah’s work from our 2006 production of Vigils or the reading of his play Two Echos during the 2007 New Stages festival. Don’t miss it—this reading offers Chicago theaterphiles the opportunity to get a first-look at an imaginative and lyrical new work from one of the most exciting playwrights out there.

Lastly, Red is going into its final week in the Albert Theatre. If you haven't had a chance to see it get your tickets now; good seats are still available.

Nurturing New Work

2011-10-19T16:57:00.004-05:00

By Andrew Knight, Assistant to the Associate Producer

With News Stages Amplified officially up and running—Dartmoor Prison had its first performance last Thursday and both Chicago Boys and Ask Aunt Susan are now in rehearsals—there’s a lot of talk about new work at the Goodman and, specifically, the theater’s role in developing it.

This word—developing—is bandied about quite a bit in reference to new plays, perhaps because it’s so inclusive. After all, the Goodman’s role as an institution in premiering new work is vast and varied. The ultimate goal, of course, is to produce the play by assembling actors, a director, designers, and other artists to present the piece to an audience. It’s a simple process in theory, but it takes a lot of time and effort; it requires adequate financing and material resources, an audience, and a level of trust between the artists and the institution to ensure the play can evolve and grow.

Photo: Cedric Young in Dartmoor Prison. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

But before this process can begin, there must be a text (or at least an idea) to work with, and the search for these new texts is a large part of the staff’s job at the Goodman. Whether we’re reading play submissions from agents, attending local and national workshops and productions, or staying current with international work, we’re constantly looking forward, hoping to bring fresh and exciting pieces to the Goodman. However, it’s also the theater’s responsibility to support and encourage the playwright and to facilitate inspiration’s transformation into art. With this in mind, the Goodman has made commissioning a key program in its mission to develop new work.

Commissioning—when the theater awards a playwright remuneration to write a play—is an intricate undertaking and one where the specifics range from case to case. Summing up the process—which I’m about to do—can only offer a general idea of the time and effort that goes into it.

In a perfect world, after the playwright has accepted a commission, a first draft of the script is received within a year. Upon its receipt, and after consultation with the playwright, an in-house reading occurs where a group of actors sit around a table and read the script out loud so the playwright, artistic director, and literary staff can hear the piece. It’s a chance to find out what works—what’s particularly moving, thought provoking, funny, or delightful—and what doesn’t. The playwright goes back to work after this, developing another draft based on these discoveries.

When both the playwright and the Goodman feel the piece is ready, it receives a concert reading or developmental workshop. These are more formal than the table read—more “performance” oriented, with a director and a short rehearsal period. A concert reading might be a part of our New Stages series, and would likely be open to the public. It allows our patrons a glimpse into a process-oriented presentation. In turn, the audience response also gives the playwright a fresh perspective on the play, influencing yet another new draft.

If the play is scheduled for production, a one or two week “pre-production” workshop generally takes place early in the season. The longer rehearsal period allows for an in-depth exploration; perhaps with a little staging too see how it works “on its feet.” The process culminates in another presentation, and the playwright, once again, goes back to work on a new draft—the draft that will be used at the start of rehearsals for the production.

That’s the general idea of how one Goodman commission might come to fruition. The process isn’t always so systematic, though. The reality is that some plays take longer to write—large scale pieces, for example, or those with subject matter that requires in-depth research. Other works, like musicals, require multiple workshops before they’re ready for production. The timeline also varies depending on how the playwright works. Some writers work alone to produce a polished initial draft and might not need a great deal of workshop development. Other writers prefer a more interactive approach, finding their inspiration in hearing the piece and developing it with actors and directors.

Although the primary purpose of commissioning is to support the playwright and augment the American theater repertoire, this process benefits the institution as well. By commissioning new works, the Goodman earns the right to be the first theater to produce the piece. If the Goodman should decide not to produce it for any reason, the playwright is, of course, allowed to pursue a production at a different company.

But by far, the greatest benefit to the theater is the variety that newly commissioned works bring to the season. We aim to commission a range of voices who all write with a singular style and passion. We generally don’t approach playwrights with a particular subject to write about; instead, we hope that freedom will breed inspiration.

On the subject of commissions and the process, it should be noted that the majority of the plays in our New Stages Amplified festival are commissions in their various stages of development. Dartmooor Prison (one of our workshop productions), Smokefall, and Teddy Ferrara (both concert readings) are all standard commissions. Ask Aunt Susan (another staged production) and Two Lakes, Two Rivers (the third reading) were written as a part of our Playwrights Unit. The Playwrights Unit, a new program at the Goodman to support Chicago-based playwrights, follows a more structured approach to developing new work. Four local writers commissioned at the beginning of the season meet once a month to discuss and share their work with each other and Tanya Palmer, our director of new play development, and Neena Arndt, our associate dramaturg. Over the course of the year, the plays developed in the Playwrights Unit each receive two readings: an in-house table read and a concert reading at the season’s conclusion.

None of the works in New Stages Amplified is technically complete. In fact, the productions never really “open”—the playwright may continue to work on the piece after it begins performances. The director, the actors, the designers, and the audience are all participants in the play’s development. As an institution, we hope that through commissioning and by committing adequate time and resources to a play’s evolution, the Goodman will play a vital role in keeping the future of new work bright.

The Stars Out Front

2011-10-17T12:43:00.005-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

If you’ve ever come to the Goodman's North Dearborn Street home, you may have noticed a group of glittering stars that line the sidewalk directly under the marquee. On Thursday, October 13, we added to that group when Goodman Theatre Women's Board received their very own star on the Walkway of Stars in recognition of the collective $2.5 million they raised for the Endowing Excellence Campaign.

The Walkway of Stars features an eclectic group of names—individuals and organizations without whom we wouldn’t be the theater we are today. Check out who else is featured on the walkway:

Most Glamorous: Merle Reskin. A cast member in the original production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s South Pacific, she had a professional Chicago, Broadway and television performing career in the 1950s.

Most Politically Connected: Mayor Richard M. Daley. Chicago’s longest-serving mayor secured support from the city for the Goodman’s new home on Dearborn Street. He and his wife, Maggie, also have seats named for them in the Albert Theatre.

Most Visionary: Susan and Lew Manilow. Mr. Manilow ignited the Loop redevelopment project that saved the Selwyn and Harris theaters (which are now part of the Goodman) and transformed the North Loop into a thriving center of performing arts in Chicago.

Most Notorious: Governor George H. Ryan. During Governor Ryan’s administration, the Goodman received critical funding from the state in support of the Building Campaign, which helped create our North Dearborn Street facility.

Most Missed: Michael Maggio. An anonymous donor funded a star in honor of Goodman Associate Artistic Director Michael Maggio, who passed away in 2000. Goodman Theatre also funds a directing fellowship in Mr. Maggio’s name.

Dartmoor Prison and America’s Promise of Freedom

2011-10-13T11:17:00.006-05:00

By Charlie O'Malley, Literary Management and Dramaturgy Intern

“Freedom? We’re in prison, man. There isn’t any damn freedom for us. We are just the mules that pulls freedom’s plow.”
-Governor, Dartmoor Prison

As any presidential election approaches, the concept of “freedom” is bandied about between candidates, journalists, pundits and voters. Indeed, America has always prided itself on its own brand of liberty, however complicated and challenging that idea may be. Carlyle Brown’s new play, Dartmoor Prison, which kicks off the Goodman’s New Stages Amplified tonight, takes pause to question notions of freedom in America’s history. The play explores American identity and patriotism, as history has defined the two notions, and questions how democracy operates today.

(Photo: Playwright Carlyle Brown. Photo by Michael Brosilow.)

Inspired by real events, Dartmoor Prison takes place during the War of 1812, in a racially segregated prison yard for American prisoners of war. As the 4th of July approaches, tensions arise in the yard as the white prisoners, eager to commemorate their country’s independence, plan a celebration in prison yard number 4, home to the African American prisoners. The informal ruler of number 4, a black sailor named King Dick, questions the liberties that America offers given the profits that it makes from slavery. Confined in a prison with little food, abysmal living conditions, and an American agent who will do little to help them and dwindling morale, the prisoners are forced to reevaluate their expectations of liberty: Can they expect it? Do they deserve it? Is it promised to them? With the country of big ideas and grandiose promises in its infancy, the future for these men is limited, and as their British captors strengthen their grip on the prisoners’ minds, they must decide what price they are willing to pay to be truly free.

Dartmoor Prison is a story that immerses itself in a consuming exploration of American identity, and the questions that it raises about liberty dive to the very core of American selfhood and the promises on which America was built. Promises of freedom are inherently compromised by slavery, poverty, imperialism, and prejudices ingrained in the American consciousness. The questions that plague the prisoners in Dartmoor are the same ones with which we grapple every day—in the news, in our classrooms, and in the streets. In Brown’s intricately woven drama, characters of various backgrounds spur, challenge and provoke, keeping the tensions high and the debate rumbling constantly.

Each performance of Dartmoor Prison, like all of the shows in New Stage Amplified, will be followed by a talkback with artists who worked on the show and led by members of the Goodman’s artistic staff. All audience members are invited to share their thoughts, voice their questions and take part in the process of creating a new work of drama.

Fame Games

2011-10-12T15:02:00.003-05:00

By Liz Rice, Education and Community Engagement Intern

The Goodman and season opener Red met by way of Hollywood Monday night, as the theater was swarmed by Collaboraction paparazzi (left) for the first 2011/2012 CONTEXT event, The Price of Fame. Attendees were greeted by flashing bulbs and jarring questions that delved into their personal lives—upcoming projects, and of course, who they were wearing. Rumors abounded as whispers that Brad Pitt’s mistress was attending, though nobody seemed to sight her, and that Steven Spielberg was picking up everybody’s next script.

Gracing the theater was Chicago-based Collaboraction’s Artistic Director, Anthony Moseley, former Goodman intern and current Collaboraction Assistant Artistic Director, Kristin Idaszack, and Goodman-commissioned playwright Carlyle Brown. Brown’s play Dartmoor Prison opens at the Goodman on October 13, as the first show in Goodman’s New Stages Amplified series. Guests mingled with prominent artists as DJ Jonathan Marks energized the room to the sound of Amy Winehouse and Ratatat. Excitement overflowed as the evening’s panel of speakers arrived. Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot arrived from WBEZ’s Sound Opinions, along with Charna Halpern of the Chicago-based improv theater iO. Drawing from Mark Rothko’s views on fame and suicide, and the present-day aftermath of Amy Winehouse’s recent death, the panel discussed pressures of fame and how, mixed with assorted vices, it has been a major factor in the premature deaths of many talented artists. Among people discussed were Nirvana front man, Kurt Cobain and legendary Saturday Night Live actor Chris Farley. Our panelists also touched upon the likes of Jeff Tweedy of Chicago’s own Wilco and comedian Andy Dick who, while still living, have also struggled with fame, alcohol, and drug abuse.

Audience members were given their own opportunity to discuss, questioning how we as fans, friends, and family can keep artists of the future from such fates. As the evening drew to a close, guests left with a new found firsthand understanding of “celebrity” and an appetite for more CONTEXT events to come. Keep your eyes peeled for another event this January!

Black and White: A Brief Overture to Dartmoor Prison

2011-10-11T14:17:00.004-05:00

By Andrew E.T. Kron, Marketing Intern

This Thursday our much-anticipated New Stages Amplified series begins with Carlyle Brown’s Dartmoor Prison. For more information on the series check out this post from back in July. Dartmoor Prison will only be staged for 12 performances, and tickets are all only $10 or $20 each, so don’t miss your chance to see this riveting new work while it’s here!

In Dartmoor Prison, playwright Carlyle Brown explores two concrete ideas: the will of man and the ultimate goal of survival. The play is very much a tale of war—it's set in Devon, England, during the War of 1812 inside an ominous reformatory known as Dartmoor Prison. But what begins as a story of willpower and endurance transforms into an entirely different tale within itself.

In Dartmoor Prison, the holding pens are policed by soldiers of the British Empire. (A brief historical note: the War of 1812 was a three-year conflict between the United States and Great Britain.) The inhabitants of Dartmoor Prison are, of course, prisoners, and are American prisoners at that, sailors the British have captured. But the premise gets even more intriguing by what exactly is happening inside the walls of the penitentiary—the American captives stationed inside Dartmoor Prison have been divided up, segregated into two very specific groups: blacks and whites.

So there is the set-up. A prison yard, run by the British, holding American sailors during the War of 1812.

Very black and white, yes?

Not quite.

Inside Dartmoor Prison, walls do not hold any such measure of human segregation. Black, white, British, American—it doesn’t matter. In the end, every man inside and outside of that prison is fighting for just one simple thing: freedom. But freedom comes at a price, and as we find in this new play, in a place like Dartmoor Prison, in the Summer of 1814, that idea of freedom might come at the price of being black or white.

CONTEXT: The Price of Fame

2011-10-05T16:22:00.005-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

On July 24th, 2011, the morning after singer Amy Winehouse died, I and my colleagues were having a discussion about young artists and their propensity to fall into drugs, alcohol abuse, depression and addiction. I had just read Red the day before, and I remembered a scene in which Rothko’s conversation with Ken turns toward the death of artist Jackson Pollock. The two discuss a crucial element of Pollock’s personality, and point to the fact that, while Pollock died in a car accident, his extreme fame and alcoholic history may have been a contributing factor to his demise. With that scene fresh in my mind, the conversation that morning led us to think about the many famous musicians, actors, artists, and comedians we loose rather young, and to ask, “Is there a price to fame?”

Next Monday, October 10, at 7pm, the Goodman's Education Department will kick off the 2011/2012 Season’s CONTEXT series with our first event around Red. During this event we'll explore that question I had back in July—the price of fame—with our audiences. We’ve crafted an interactive experience with the help of our friends at Collaboraction, during which we'll examine the cost of fame and what happens when artists become commodities. The atmosphere will be that of a red-carpet event, in which each attendee is essentially fulfilling the role of a celebrity—forced to make their way past a throng of paparazzi just to get in. Once inside, panelists Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot of WBEZ’s Sound Opinions will discuss fame and how it plays out—in both good and bad ways—in today’s music industry. They’ll also discuss the price of fame in comedy and performance with Charna Halpern of Chicago’s own iO. Time will be allotted for questions and conversation with our panelists and the Collaboraction artists.

The CONTEXT series intends to illuminate our productions, act as catalysts for deeper exploration, and offer a public space for debate and discussion. We’re hoping the evening will not only place attendees in the spotlight, but help us all look at just how glamorous that spotlight truly is, and is not.

CONTEXT: The Price of Fame is Monday, October 10 at 7pm in the Goodman lobby. Call 312.443.3800 or click here to reserve tickets to this FREE event.

Photo by Rubenstein.

News and Notes

2011-10-03T16:10:00.005-05:00

It’s been a festive few weeks here at the Goodman. On September 15, we publicly announced our Endowing Excellence campaign—a $15 million effort to provide the Goodman with a permanent cushion of resources to make great theater for years to come. Here at the theater, we had a high-profile breakfast event headlined by Mayor Rahm Emanuel, who encouraged an audience of supporters to “get the job done,” by helping us complete the fund-raising campaign, which has raised $10 million so far. You can learn more about the campaign here.

Following the endowment excitement, this past Tuesday we officially kicked off the 2011/2012 Season in style with a day of festivities, absurdities, parties and plays. During the day we sent a brigade of red men out onto the streets to spread the word as we got our hands wet with paint at the theater. And in the evening, we hosted our season opening benefit—wherein more than 400 guests enjoyed cocktails and fine dining in the gorgeously appointed Modern Wing at the Art Institute Chicago (left). Honorees at the night’s event included Chairman Patricia Cox; Red playwright John Logan; Madeleine Grynsztejn, Pritzker Director, Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago; and James Rondeau, Chair and Frances & Thomas Dittmer Curator of Contemporary Art, Art Institute of Chicago. And of course, following the benefit was the opening-night performance of Red, directed by Artistic Director Robert Falls. Explore our Red video library for a behind-the-scenes look at this amazing play, and if you haven’t bought your tickets yet do so now. Seriously; we just added a week of shows so now’s your chance.

Photo by Liz Lauren.

It's Raining Red Men

2011-09-29T12:16:00.004-05:00

Red officially opened on Tuesday, with much fanfare and many red men roaming the streets of Chicago. If you missed your chance to see a red-clad gentlemen on your corner, savor our slideshow.

While our crimson friends were bringing merriment and candy to Chicagoans, back at the theater we were busy covering a couple canvases with the hand-prints of friends, fans, and local celebrities, including the cast of Red, Patrick Andrews and Edward Gero (below).

If you haven’t snatched your tickets yet to see Red do so now—we’ve just extended the run through October 30!

9.27.11

2011-09-26T11:58:00.003-05:00

It's coming.

Breaking-Up the Seagram Murals

2011-09-23T13:01:00.011-05:00

By Liz Rice, Education and Community Engagement Intern

John Logan’s Tony-winning play Red—a fictional account of two years in the life of Mark Rothko—is currently on stage in the Albert Theatre. If you haven’t purchased tickets do so now; not on will you experience awesome dramatic tension between two stellar actors, but you’ll also get to see live painting! And more. Meanwhile, today our education intern Liz Rice explores one of the mysteries behind the enigmatic artist and the paintings he labors over in Red.

Mark Rothko was a famously meticulous artist, consumed not only with creating perfection within his paintings but also with creating a perfect environment for his painting to exist within. To him, the environment his work was displayed in was equally as important as the paintings themselves—it provided context for how a work should be experienced by the viewer. In Red, John Logan’s Rothko extols:

"[The Seagram murals are] not alone. They’re a series, they’ll always have each other for companionship and protection…and most important they’re going into a place created just for them. A place of reflection and safety…Their power will transcend the setting, working together, moving in rhythm, whispering to each other, they will still create a place…"

In this quote Rothko personifies his paintings, emphasizing their need for one another, that they are to be understood as a whole and that they have a space to call their own. For the Seagram murals—originally intend for the Four Seasons restaurant in Manhattan’s Seagram Building—Rothko wanted to create an oppressive, almost grotesque space for his paintings, ultimately ruining the appetite of the restaurant’s wealthy patrons. John Fisher further emphasizes Rothko’s philosophy on art in his 1970 article “Mark Rothko: portrait of the artist as an angry man.” He writes that Rothko believed “no picture could be judged by itself” and “everything an artist produced was part of his continuous development and therefore should be regarded as a single whole.” In creating the Seagram murals, Rothko rented a studio in the Bowery of New York that had the same dimensions of the Four Seasons. Thus, he was working to create a cohesive set of works for a specific space, aligning along his artistic philosophy.

But in Western societies, it is standard practice to pluck art objects from their original habitats and place them in museums to educate the masses on cultures, time periods and traditions. Modern-day museums are filled with African masks, medieval altar pieces, Mayan ceremonial pots, and so on; rarely, in this setting, are the meaning and use of these objects fully understood by the public. When I think on the history of the Seagram murals, and the fact that there was no final destination in mind once finished (Rothko eventually refused to allow them to be displayed at the Four Seasons), I wonder if the available murals in public institutions suffer from the same decontextualization as artifacts in museums often suffer. In spite of Rothko’s original intention, the Seagram murals never existed in the space that they were originally created for and today live in separate institutions across the globe. Which poses the question: Do Rothko’s Seagram murals lose meaning when they are viewed apart and not in their originally intended environment?

After deciding that the Four Seasons was not the best setting to experience his work, Rothko removed the murals and placed them in storage until the mid-1960s when Norman Reid, the director of the Tate in London, approached him to inquire about works and extend the museum’s collection. Rothko suggested that some of the Seagram murals might be sufficient, provided that the appropriate installation room could be found. When Reid returned in September of 1969 with a model of the designated gallery room to finalize the works to be used and how they should be hung, Rothko generously gifted nine of the murals to the Tate. Today, other works in the series can be found at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC and at the Kawamura Memorial DIC Museum in Sakura, Japan.

Rothko consciously separated the body of his work when he gifted nine of the murals to the Tate. I wonder why Rothko would split up the work that he always intended to show together and, as he says in Red, “work together, whispering to each other, creating a place?” Do the works lose their power, tension or oppression when only parts of the series are shown together, and sometimes interjected with works not part of the original plan? Furthermore, is there something to be said for the fact that the paintings were never seen in the original context for which it was intended, the Four Seasons restaurant? Contrarily, should we as viewers disregard the original idea Rothko had for the series and accept the nine murals in the Tate as his end plan? As the artist, is Rothko allowed to change his mind without consequence? I doubt it, since his works emanate the residual effects of his decisions.

There are other problems necessary to consider when understanding the Seagram murals. Rothko did not have a set plan as to how to hang the works in the Four Seasons. Some sketches suggest the works to be put together like a frieze, however, in the scale model of the Tate room the murals are placed apart from each other. The model is further inconclusive as two of the miniature painting models are blank and one is missing. We are also not entirely sure which of the 30 or so murals he made would have been chosen for the restaurant, had they gone there. Rothko made three sets of works to be used for the Four Seasons. The first set he disliked and thus sold as individual paintings. Of the 30 to 40 paintings made for the Seagram commission, only about 14 are currently on view to the public, not counting works considered sketches. With only bits and pieces of the entire series, and only the vaguest idea of what the final product would have been, can we as viewers truly experience Rothko’s work as he would have wanted?

Today, each of the three museums that house Seagram murals have created specific spaces for the works to live. They can be seen at the Tate Modern, at the National Gallery of Art, and at the Kawamura Memorial Museum. Each museum, to the best of their ability, has created a space along Rothko’s guidelines to recreate the oppressive feeling for which he aimed. In September of 2008, the Tate Modern housed an exhibition on Rothko that brought the available Seagram murals from all three museums together for the first time. Although we are fortunate that these works are in the public domain, I still question if they have lost some of their potency stuck on a museum wall apart from the rest of their “family.”

Photo: The Seagram murals at the Tate Modern. Photo by Max Mulhern.

A Chicago Guide to Red

2011-09-21T13:28:00.022-05:00

By Charlie O' Malley, Literary and Dramaturgy Intern

While Red primarily explores the life and work of Mark Rothko, it also briefly mentions two of Rothko's celebrated contemporaries—Mies van der Rohe and Jackson Pollock, two artists whose work is featured prominently throughout Chicago. Today, we take a tour through the city to find local relics of these artistic luminaries.

Red, John Logan’s Tony-winning play which is currently playing in the Albert Theatre, explores the work of three major twentieth-century artists: Mies van der Rohe, Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko, all pioneers in their fields. In a city with a cultural heritage as rich as Chicago’s, it is no surprise that these artists are well-represented locally.

Mies van der Rohe was a German architect who pioneered modern design. After working extensively in Europe with fellow architectural masters Walter Gropius (founder of the Bauhaus School) and Le Corbusier, Mies left Germany for Chicago in the 1930s, accepting a job at the Illinois Institute of Technology, influencing what would eventually be known as the Second Chicago School of architecture. His most renowned early work in the US was the Farnsworth House in Plano, IL, which he followed with 860-880 Lakeshore Drive (below left; 1949 – 1951), a set of apartment buildings which represented a departure from the brick U-shaped structures popular at the time. In 1954, he received a commission to design the Seagram Building in New York, which features prominently in Red. Truly a masterpiece of modernist architecture, the Seagram Building revolutionized the use of steel, glass and concrete for functional as well as decorative purposes. One of Mies’s final works was 330 North Wabash (sometimes known as the IBM Building; below right), a skyscraper within a stone’s throw of the Goodman, which was completed in 1970, a year after his death.

Jackson Pollock, who serves as a great (yet unseen) force in Red, worked as a contemporary of Rothko. As the Dionysian counterpart to Rothko’s Apollonian force (according to one character in Red, at least) Pollock is an immense power in the play. Fortunately he is not unseen for Chicagoans, as one of his greatest paintings, Greyed Rainbow (below; 1953), is on view at the Art Institute of Chicago (Gallery 289B). Greyed Rainbow is one of Pollock’s largest (and last) paintings, with an assortment of blacks, whites, grays and silvers masking brighter colors (green, blue, orange), as if hiding them from the viewer.

Photo by jimcchou
And if Red makes you urgently want to see one of Rothko’s works in person, fear not, because the Art Institute also has two of Rothko’s finest works on display in Gallery 289C, alongside works by Richard Diebenkorn and Morris Louis. Untitled (Purple, White, and Red) (below; 1953), is unabashedly emotional and characteristic of his mature works. Three rectangles of color float, one above another, edges blurred and borders falling away. In Untitled (Painting) (1953 – 1954), varying shades of orange and yellow simmer and pop, challenging notions of light and contrast. For those outside of the Loop, a later Rothko work, No. 2 (1962), is on view in the Elisabeth and William M. Landes Gallery for Modern Art and Design at the Smart Museum of Art at The University of Chicago.

Photo by jimcchou

The Final Days of Rehearsal for Red

2011-09-15T16:33:00.002-05:00

In just two days Red begins performances in the Albert Theatre. The cast and creative team are busily spending the last few days of tech rehearsal perfecting every lighting, sound, and costume cue because, as of Saturday, the show goes live. Actor Edward Gero, who plays Mark Rothko in Red, has been blogging about his experience; check out his website for behind-the-scenes information and updates. Meanwhile, we’ve created a few rehearsal videos to whet your appetite for this weekend’s premiere; head over to our YouTube channel to check them out!

Red starts previews Saturday, September 17. Buy tickets here, or call the box office at 312.443.3800.

Photo by Liz Lauren.

How Rothko became Red

2011-09-13T14:30:00.011-05:00

By Andrew E.T. Kron, Marketing Intern

This week marks the final week of rehearsal for Red—John Logan’s account of two years in the life of artist Mark Rothko—which starts performances this Saturday, September 17. These last few weeks we’ve explored all manner of things Red—from the artists who influenced Rothko, to the restaurant at the heart of the play's plot—but today we’ll take a closer look at the artist himself, and examine how he went from being Marcus Rothkowitz, Russian intellectual, to Mark Rothko, the tormented Abstract Expressionist at the heart of an artistic movement.

Marcus Rothkowitz, born, September 1903.

Marcus, born in Dvinsk, Russia, migrated to the United States along with his family in 1913. Growing up in Portland, Oregon, the young boy was an intellectual to the utmost degree with a fervent passion for social, economic and political movements, much like his father. Based on his distinguished academic performance as a youth, Rothkowitz was accepted to Yale University in 1921 and seemingly had set up a life for himself of promise and fortune.

Mark Rothko, dead, February 1970.

Mark committed suicide on the kitchen floor of his home in New York City. He drank and smoked heavily, he lived through two tumultuous marriages, dealt with bouts of depression and he reviled modernism and all social aspects of the current and future culture. In a sense, Mark Rothko was just, red.

Somewhere along the way, Marcus Rothkowitz transformed into Mark Rothko.

* * *

Marcus Rothkowitz pulled himself from Yale after just a year. He moved on from studying political strategy to engaging in art, a decision purely based on his personal interests. Within that, also came Marcus’ decision to move to New York City.

Rothkowitz married in 1932 and divorced his first wife just five years later. He fell into repeated financial struggles and battled various spells of depression. In 1940 he unofficially changed both his first and last name out of a growing fear of anti-Semitic values mounting in the United States at the onset of the Second World War. So now, the former Yale intellectual would be known as a beleaguered artist and unsettled soul named Mark Rothko.

Shortly thereafter, Mark Rothko would indeed experience success. As the 1940s progressed, his art began to gain notoriety not only around New York City but also around the entire country. But as this sense of early fame struck Rothko he simply wanted nothing to do with it.

It can be argued that Rothko began to seclude himself from the public eye at this point. His greatest fear as an artist was that the modern culture would buy his art simply because it was produced by him. Because it was a “Rothko.” Not because of the colors, the meaning or the expression in which was laid out on the canvas.

Publicly, Rothko feared this sense of change it depressed him endlessly. He despised this idea of modernism, he felt misunderstood as an artist, and he began to take every single measure he could to distance himself from normalcy. He continued to smoke cigarettes. He drank continuously. Much later on he would develop an aneurysm in the main artery of his heart. This compound of despair, drugs and alcohol harassed his body for years I’m sure, but Rothko just did not seem to care.

He would continue to paint. And Rothko began to blatantly paint emotion. He was remarkably unafraid to showcase that. Into the late 1940s and early 1950s he began his creation of what became known as "multiform" artwork.

To the public eye, Rothko’s multiform works were elongated rectangles in vibrant and purposeful colors stacked atop one another. To Rothko, these pieces were his attempt to grasp the opacity of the human spirit, and quite possibly, his own. As Rothko’s aura, personally imposed quarantine and depression worsened, the colors that were eminent in his multiforms became rooted and darker. Reds, deep blacks and browns, dark blues,grays and greens.

He confined himself to his art studio; his personal contact with this modern culture was nonexistent. And his multiforms showed this mindset, this mood he maintained.

And one day, it happened. Just like. That. Mark Rothko took his own life.

It took the man 66 years to discover that no one else would ever understand his artwork, but himself. And when he realized that, he left, without a trace, seemingly without a care.

* * *

But, it should be well noted that Mark Rothko was not solely a painter or an artist. Mark Rothko was a philosopher, and painted, in my eyes, for amusement. Mark Rothko overtook Marcus Rothkowitz for one simple reason. And that answer, to me, is quite basic. Marcus Rothkowitz’s goal was to conceptualize promise and affluence among the modern culture.

Mark Rothko was just Red.

Art, Architecture and Affluence on Park Avenue

2011-09-09T10:23:00.007-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

Red, which opens the Albert season next Saturday, September 17, chronicles a two-year period in the life of artist Mark Rothko, as he labors on a series of murals commissioned for the opulent Four Seasons restaurant in the newly built Seagram Building. Today, Education and Community Engagement Associate Teresa Rende explores the elaborate design concept of this restaurant, and what led the planners to Mark Rothko.

In 1954 the Seagram Building was commissioned for the corporate headquarters of Seagram distillers. It was the perfect time for such a building, towering in its opulence, to make its way on to Park Avenue in Midtown Manhattan. The 1950s brought the corporate American lifestyle into the spotlight, laden with money to spend and affluence to flaunt, and buildings like the Seagram offered physical manifestations of economic prowess. Phyllis Lamber, the daughter of the Seagram’s director, Samuel Bronfman, became the director of planning after seeing her father’s initial architectural direction. Lambert, an architect herself, knew precisely where to turn for cutting-edge elegance. She commissioned Mies van der Rohe, a high-profile, modern architect and recent immigrant to the United States, to design the building with Philip Johnson. Van der Rohe’s pioneering style, paired with extremely fine construction materials, made the Seagram Building not only a marvel on opening day but also an icon of modern American architecture.

Upon completion in 1958, the Seagram Building was one of the most expensive American buildings erected to date. Not only was it an enormous structure of steel, concrete and glass, but the exterior showcased many tons of bronze I beams, in addition to an interior featuring bronze, travertine and marble elements. It makes sense that such a lavish building required not only lavish structure but an opulent design throughout. The interior of the upper crust restaurant, the Four Seasons, which was housed within the Seagram Building, was not to be an exception.

Of the restaurant’s two dining rooms, the aptly named “Pool Room,” sets diners’ tables around a large marble pool, bubbling quietly under its canopy of seasonally changing indoor trees. At the front bar, a hanging sculpture by Richard Lippold pulls hundreds of brass rods out of thin air and into the sunlight of the restaurant’s 52nd Street-facing windows. A series of Mies van der Rohe’s signature Brno chairs were adapted for dining room seating, while American designer and architect Charles Eames created the private party room chairs. The Finnish American industrial designer Eero Saarinen created hassocks and taboret tables for the bar, while Philip Johnson created the banquettes for the main dining room. The Four Seasons explains, “Every element, from the chairs and shimmering chain curtains to the glassware and utensils, was created to celebrate the ultimate in International Style.”

With splendor in each detail, small and large alike, there was no question as to what could hang on the walls of the Four Seasons. Fine art was obvious, but the type of fine art had to reflect what the rest of the building achieved—opulence within the framework of international style. As such, the art chosen had to be from modern master artists whose work would not only complement the space but also enhance the experience of dining for the Four Seasons’ patrons. To encapsulate this moment in the fast-paced, booming American economy, modern masters whose work had spurred artistic movements were chosen. They were trendsetters in a building that was about to set trends.

Catalan painter Joan Miró, who is often cited with André Breton as a founder of the Surrealist movement, was selected. Picasso, already saddled with international acclaim and the creation of Cubism, was selected. Works from American Abstract Expressionists like Ronnie Landfield and Jackson Pollock found homes at the Four Seasons. It was fitting, in this building celebrating the mega rich and mega successful, that the most elite and exciting artists were to hang on the walls. It was the perfect location for a high profile commission, drawing the attention of the art and business communities alike.

The buzz happened when the increasingly successful, Russian-born American artist Mark Rothko was commissioned, but his artwork never made it to the Four Seasons. After eating at the swankiest restaurant in America himself, the artist returned the commission advance and held the paintings. One meal and it was clear to Rothko—his murals were not to be a thread in the fabric of privilege. And while the Seagram Building and the Four Seasons displayed the ultimate in luxury and success, Rothko’s deeply emotional art was to be experienced in a space built for it, not the other way around.

Top: The Seagram Building. Middle: The Pool Room at the Four Seasons. Photo by Jennifer Calais Smith.

Art Before Rothko

2011-08-30T10:26:00.009-05:00

By Neena Arndt, Associate Dramaturg

Creation never happens in a vacuum—all artists are influenced by both their life experiences and their artistic predecessors and peers. Mark Rothko, an Abstract Expressionist painter and the central character in Red, maintained acute awareness of those who had wielded paintbrushes in generations past, and often pondered how history would remember him. In Red, playwright John Logan explores Rothko’s view of his forebears and his difficulty in passing the brush to younger artists. In order to understand the play, it’s helpful to have a sense of the artistic innovation that took place a generation before Rothko and his peers took the art world by storm. You could read an art history textbook, or you could read up on two of the early twentieth century’s most intrepid artists in limerick form:

There once was an artist from Spain
Who, in painting, used only one plane—
Female forms from all angles,
Flat, sharp-edged, and tangled—
And the century was off with a bang.
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907, Pablo Picasso

Around the same time was a fellow
Who always used bright red and yellow.
Bold colors showed his emotion,
And stirred up commotion—
“He’s a beast!” his critics bellowed.

The Open Window, 1905, Henri Matisse

In Rehearsal with Red

2011-08-25T15:08:00.010-05:00

We’re a couple of weeks into rehearsals for Red, and the buzz around the building is that the canvases have come out and the Rothkoing is in full swing. We snagged a few photos of the actors at work; take a look for a sneak peek into the process.

Edward Gero as Mark Rothko (photo by Liz Lauren).

Patrick Andrews as Ken (photo by Liz Lauren).

Patrick and Edward lift a canvas (photo by Liz Lauren).

Priming (photo by Liz Lauren).

It Begins

2011-08-18T13:39:00.004-05:00

Rehearsals for Red started on Tuesday, officially marking the beginning of our 2011/2012 season. On Monday, the two actors in Red accompanied our graphic design team to a photo shoot, where the cast struck poses among red strobe lights for the Red show poster. The final image is not quite finished yet, but a mock-up of the design by our creative director, Kelly Rickert, is at left.

Meanwhile our Mark Rothko, actor Edward Gero, has updated his Red blog, this time with a video of a private visit to the Rothko Room at the Phillips Collection, plus excerpts of letters between the museum’s founder, Duncan Phillips, and Rothko himself. Edward just keeps uncovering fascinating stuff about the artist at the heart of this play; check back regularly for more updates on his journey through the rehearsal process.

Tickets to Red are on sale now; visit our website or call 312.443.3800 for more information.

In the Blink of an Eye

2011-08-12T11:59:00.008-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

The Goodman’s General Theatre Studies (GTS) program is a lot like Christmas, your birthday, or any other much anticipated annual celebration—it comes but once a year. As the second to last week of June approaches I get nervous and excited; before I can blink the Goodman lobby is filled with 80 Chicago-area teenagers, bustling with energy, ideas and opinions. The moment I do blink, it is already the first week of August and they are gone. The hallways seem quiet, almost eerily so. I peek into the Healy Rehearsal room only to find the student-written autobiographies off the walls, the cubbies empty of iPods and backpacks, and the garbage cans distinctly lacking the teen treats I have been accustomed to seeing over six weeks. How did it all pass so quickly?

It is their unbridled energy and willingness to share that makes the time fly by. This summer, especially, the teens explored new ways to tell stories and devise theater, and I was constantly enthralled. For the first time, our GST students (all age 14 - 19) worked with our GeNarrations participants (all residents of a Chicago Area senior center). While the students write their own play annually, this year they incorporated stories from seniors at different local centers into their final production. What sounds like cacophony in the hall morphed into stories spanning almost a century on stage. A young woman, Grace, played the roll of a male soldier, forced to cope with death after prisoners in a war camp accidentally drank tainted water under his watch (above). Another young woman, Taylor, played the role of a white woman confronting her daughter, who wants to date a young black man, in the early 1960s. Gary, an African American male, played the role of a white woman fighting for female equality (below).

The students this summer tackled an incredible undertaking. For the first summer ever, the final GTS performance was comprised of not only their stories, but also the stories of Chicago seniors. After interviewing these seniors, and finding narratives to weave along side their own, the teens went even further into exploration. They took on different ages, genders, races, sexual orientations, and put themselves on stage in the shoes of another human. From the audience of the Owen, I witnessed decades of history in 90 minutes.

I suppose it makes sense that the six weeks passed before I had time to realize it; GTS students have mastered the art of time travel, on stage and off.

Researching Rothko

2011-08-11T14:33:00.011-05:00

Red is coming soon. September 17. Be there. The Tony Award-winning play chronicles two years in the life of abstract expressionist Mark Rothko, and though the original London-based production took the West End and Broadway by storm, this production will be the play's first American production—an American director and American cast telling this American story.

There are a thousand things we could say about the play's central character, Mark Rothko, and over the next few months we’ll be saying a lot of them—around town at various events (more on that to come), on our website, in OnStage, and on this very blog. So where do we begin? With actor Edward Gero (below), who will be playing the role of the legendary artist in our production of Red.

Edward is a Washington, DC-based actor, who Goodman audiences might recognize from his appearance as Gloucester in our 2006 production of King Lear. He began preparing for this titanic role over the summer, and has been chronicling his fascinating research process—from museum visits and chats with curators to YouTube videos on the creation of the Seagram Building—in a blog on his website. Rehearsals start next week, so stay tuned to Edward's blog for more behind-the-scenes action as it unfolds.

Top: The Seagram Murals at the Tate Modern. Photo by Max Mulhern.

Getting Ready for Red

2011-07-29T14:11:00.008-05:00

The 2010/2010 Season comes to a close on Sunday with the final performance of Chinglish, which is completely sold out (not a bad way to end the season, if you ask us). Next up we have a bit of a break ahead before John Logan’s Red takes over the Albert stage in mid-September. Tickets go on sale next Friday, August 5.

We’ll have lots of Red-related content on the blog in the weeks to come, but for now, let’s start at the beginning: John Logan’s source of inspiration for this ferocious beast of a play, an exhibition featuring Mark Rothko’s Seagram Murals that the playwright stumbled on during a visit to London’s Tate Modern Museum several years ago. (For those of you unfamiliar with Red, the play is a fictional account of two years in Rothko's life during which he labored on those very paintings.) Though the Tate's exhibition closed in early 2009, the museum’s website still houses extensive information on Rothko and the exhibition; you can even go on a video tour (fourth clip from the top) of the Rothko rooms with the show’s curator, Achim Borchardt-Hume, for a look at the actual work that inspired this play.

Meanwhile, here are this week's links:

In London, a few starving artists board an Andrew Lloyd Webber-conducted gravy train. (London Evening Standard)

In Denver, the influx of some Curious New Voices. (The Denver Post)

Meanwhile, the Chinese Acrobats take on Tchaikovsky. (The Telegraph)

And yet another reason to flee to The Cleve. (Cleveland.com)

In London, di Vinci's twins, reunited. (The Telegraph)

And coming soon in New York, carnage on the big screen. (The New York Times)

Above: Mark Rothko, as styled by the Goodman design staff.

Christmas in July

2011-07-26T16:43:00.013-05:00

Chinglish is wrapping up this week, and with its final performance this Sunday night, our 2010/2011 season comes to a close. (Above: Chinglish's Johnny Wu and Jennifer Lim, waving goodbye to us. Best of luck, guys! We'll miss you. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.) In a few short weeks Red will start rehearsals in the Healy before taking over the Albert with its ferocious splatterings of red paint and roaring Rothkoisms, followed New Stages Amplified in the Owen, and, soon after that, A Christmas Carol.

Yes, A Christmas Carol. It’s the height of summer and we’re already gearing up for our annual wintertime adventure. A few changes are in store for us this season—after a year-long hiatus, Larry Yando will return as everybody’s favorite malcontent, Ebenezer Scrooge, and this season’s show will be directed by Artistic Associate Steve Scott. Steve has directed A Christmas Carol in the past, but not for many many years, so we’re excited to see what he has in store for us! Tickets for groups are on sale now; tickets for the general public are available Friday, August 19.

Below: Larry Yando as Scrooge in 2009, battling his night terrors. (That's Anish Jethmalani on the right, as the Ghost of Jacob Marley; photo by Liz Lauren):

New Stages, New Format

2011-07-22T10:59:00.006-05:00

In an appropriate feat of timing, yesterday—the hottest day of the year—we announced the final plays in our upcoming Red Hot season: Dartmoor Prison, by Carlyle Brown; Chicago Boys, by Kathleen Tolan; and Ask Aunt Susan, by Seth Bockley. Together, these new plays make up what we’re calling New Stages Amplified; each work will receive 12 performances which will be fully staged, but on more pared-down sets than we’re used to, as these are still works in progress. Following each performance, we’ll host open discussions with the artists on the work, where audiences will be encouraged to share their thoughts, insights, and observations. For more information on the plays and their respective dates, check out the New Stages Amplified page on our website.

New Stages Amplified is an expansion of our popular (if under the radar) New Stages reading series. A little background information for anyone not intimately acquainted with New Stages: For the past nine years New Stages has been our plays-in-progress festival, which typically consists of two consecutive weekends of staged readings of new work, all free to the public and held in the Owen Theatre. For us, the series has offered a way to identify exciting new work; for the playwrights, the series provided them with a chance to collaborate with actors and a director on their work, hear the play aloud (and the audience’s reaction to it), and tighten their scripts in the hopes that they will soon become fully produced plays. All told, New Stages has helped develop 47 new works—including Lynn Nottage’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Ruined, this season’s Mary, by Thomas Bradshaw, and next season’s The Convert, by Danai Gurira.

Though the series is popular and fruitful, we’ve often longed for more time and more resources to allow the works to grow, and New Stages Amplified will provide us with an expansion (or amplification) of that process. Now, instead of simply offering free readings of new plays as we have in the past, this edition will feature more fully realized productions. In addition to these three works, we’ll also host three concert readings of new plays on Mondays during the run of New Stages Amplified. Stay tuned for more information on this exciting new series!

Meanwhile, check out this week's links:

The effects of unemployment, splashed on the walls of cities. (The New York Times)

The musical takes on Texas. (Dallas Observer)

In San Francisco, a photographer climbs into a camera. (SFGate)

A baby bump belly painting bandwagon. (New York Daily News)

To text or not to text—why is that even a theatergoer's question? (Chicago Tribune)

Do you feel lucky? (The Washington Post)

With Love and Gratitude, Chinglish Sweeps Chicago

2011-07-20T12:14:00.012-05:00

By Johnny Wu, Bing and Judge Xu Geming in Chinglish

I sit at my half hour call in my dressing room awaiting the beginning of another eight-show week—our second to last one. The last time I wrote an entry, we hadn't even left the rehearsal room to see the stage. Since then, we've conquered a tech week where Leigh and our brilliant designers led us through two turntables, projections, sight-lines, and demanding quick changes. A preview week where David expertly trimmed the fat from the script; we would rehearse the changes during the day and perform a tighter show each night. Then a glorious opening night, complete with a decadent reception at Petterino's. Then the Broadway announcement for the fall. Then the extension announcement for the final week of July here at the Goodman. And now, with wild laughter and mid-scene outbursts of applause blaring out of my dressing room speaker, I smile for what sheer delight it is to give this story away to a full house every night.

We've also settled into Chicago itself. We've found jazzy yet calm hotel bars to escape the otherwise overwhelming clamor of weekend nightlife. We've boated on the Chicago River and learned impressive details about the city's architecture. We've even gotten out of the Loop—breaching magical realms like Wicker Park to devour delicious tacos at Big Star and sip fancy cocktails at The Violet Hour. The girls made it to Kingston Mines and Chicago native Christine Lin won an "Ass-Off" competition—still don't know what that entailed. We've eaten everywhere, we've shopped, we've hosted friends and family…we've lived fully. But the people we've come across define the best of this city. We've had the pleasure of speaking to many of our patrons, both in the lobby post-show and at the talk backs. Here's a shout out to the intelligent, warm, and engaging theatergoers of Chicago. Thank you for making Chinglish a huge success!

Also, a big shout to Jennifer Lim, our star, for her big write-up in the Tribune!

And finally, a giant shout (and high five) to everyone here in the Goodman family for taking care of us, for inspiring, for being so damned good at what you all do. We look forward to our next play date!

Top: The author in his dressing room. Middle: Christine Lin, Clara Wong, and Angela Lin out on the town. Bottom: Angela Lin, Larry Zhang, Johnny Wu, Brian Nishii (and Cedro), and Stephen Pucci get distracted on the way to the train.

Coming Soon...

2011-07-15T12:34:00.006-05:00

Big news hit the theaterwebs late yesterday afternoon: next spring, Robert Falls will direct Nathan Lane and Brian Dennehy in The Iceman Cometh here at the Goodman! April 22 to June 10; be there.

[ Above: Dazzling show art; get excited!]

Meanwhile, our current production, Chinglish, is still going strong in the Albert and has been extended through July 31, which is good news for anyone who still hasn’t seen the show yet, as it’s been selling out on a nightly basis. After it closes here it’s headed to Broadway, so unless you’ll be spending your autumn in New York I’d advise you to see it now, in all of its original glory.

For now though, check out this week’s links!

Jules Feiffer brings back his tiny dancer. (The New York Times)

Stumbling on art in the streets of Prague. (The New York Times)

Upstaging the stage in Shakespearean remounts. (The New York Times)

Testing high-tech theater seats in London. (The Guardian)

Brahms and Smetana, in the heart of Texas. (Los Angeles Times)

Barbie goes to the museum. (Los Angeles Times)

And the Mona Lisa finally speaks up—in Mandarin. (Los Angeles Times)

The Sounds of Chinglish

2011-07-13T10:21:00.012-05:00

By Lesley Gibson, Publications Coordinator

As Chinglish audiences stream out of the Albert after each performance, one of the most talked-about topics inevitably is the arresting music that pumps into the theater propelling each of the play's transitions. Devised by Sound Designer Darron L. West, Chinglish’s soundtrack of contemporary Chinese music plays double duty in the sleek production, creating a riveting theatrical experience while accurately evoking the play’s setting—present-day Guiyang, a provincial capital of 4 million people in southwestern China.

West, who was called on to help create the sound for the play by Playwright David Henry Hwang and Director Leigh Silverman after working with them on Hwang’s 2007 comedy, Yellow Face, started his career as a resident sound designer at Actors Theatre of Louisville, and has since spent almost 20 years as a freelance sound designer working regularly at theaters in New York and around the country. Shortly after Chinglish opened, he talked to me about the current state of Chinese pop music, Celine Dion, and the process that went into conceiving the soundtrack for this world-premiere production.

Lesley Gibson: What was your initial approach to the sound design for Chinglish?

Darron L. West: I’m a real research freak; I have a tendency to pull a big, enormous palate of sounds and noises and things I think are appropriate for the show, and then make my decisions once I get into the theater and hear the actors and see how the set is going to move. And initially I was really thinking about [the main character] Daniel’s journey, so I created a sound design that started with incredibly strange, unfamiliar Chinese music—sort of a “stranger in a strange land” situation—that gradually began to soften as the piece went on. It involved a lot of really traditional Chinese music and little snippets of opera, which I was going to use for the frame of the design and then as we went into the scenes you’d hear really hip, cool, contemporary Chinese music.

When I arrived in Chicago for tech rehearsals I did one pass at the show, and Leigh and I had a listening session after rehearsal and she said, “You know, I think it really needs to be more urban.” She wanted to push the envelope and not rely on what you would normally think of when you think, “I’m doing a show with a largely Chinese cast called Chinglish.”

So basically I ended up turning the design inside out. And I went back home after that meeting and stayed up pretty much all night and just re-envisioned it, because we didn’t want it to be too stereotypically Chinese, or an American take on Chinese music. We wanted it to be super legitimate and edgy and fun. I started re-cutting things, and had little pictures from the set model all scattered on my table, trying to figure it all out.

LG: Where did you find the music you eventually ended up using?

DLW: The majority of the source material is from a Chinese American artist Leehom Wang but, in my early research work I did tune into a lot to Guiyang radio online and just listened to that, and if I heard something that was really amazing I would run over to the computer to write down the name of the song—and of course it was all in Chinese characters, so my notebook looks like a crazy person’s, because I was trying to draw my own crude versions of the characters.

LG: What kind of music are they playing in Guiyang in 2011?

DLW: It’s funny, because in the research that I was doing I found that it’s like their popular culture hasn’t moved past the mid-nineties; their hip hop samples sound like Missy Elliott samples. And it was hard for me to actually find stuff that was theatrical enough to use, that could take up the amount of space that the Goodman needed, because [the Albert Theatre] is a big room. You need a certain amount of frequency response and a certain amount of depth in the music, and a lot of the Chinese radio music came across like "easy listening," or what we think of as Celine Dion-type music. One of the big Chinese pop stars, Song Zuying, sounds a lot like what I remember Celine Dion sounding like—a very particular style. And I didn’t want it to be sappy; I wanted it to feel edgy.

But at that meeting that I had with Leigh after rehearsal, [Cultural Advisors] Ken and Joanna were there and they kept mentioning Leehom Wang, so we played a couple of his songs in the rehearsal hall, and I thought, “Wow, this guy’s doing something really interesting.” He’s singing in Mandarin and he’s sampling old musical styles inside of it. So part of my process of rethinking the design was really digging into his oeuvre as an artist. And it was just all right there—it was one of those situations where I ran into a sample of something and thought, “Oh, that sounds like the show. This sounds like the show,” and so on. The majority of the music in the show, if it wasn’t traditional, is all me ripping on Leehom Wang’s work.

LG: Do any of the songs you chose hold particular significance for the characters or the plot?

DLW: Originally, yes. But in my conversation with Leigh I realized that’s not the job the sound design was supposed to do in this particular play. It’s not trying to tell any sort of story; it’s a part of the engine. So it evolved to become a utilitarian design like the set is—it’s solving a very practical problem. For each transition I began to think along the lines of, “We need a hip piece of music that’s going to be aggressive and fun so that when we bump out of it the joke will be funny.” Or, “does this song fade down into the scene as a character begins to talk over it?” It was all about very practical concerns. There were of course moments of setting up say, a seduction scene with a sexy saxophone solo that gives way to a love duet before the lights come up on two characters in bed but, for the most part it’s not overly emotive or character driven.

LG: Was it a conscious decision for all the music to be in Mandarin?

DLW: Yes. There was originally one section during one of the transitions that was in English, because in the song two artists were constantly rapping back and forth in Chinese and American. And there was a big discussion between Leigh and I about whether or not we wanted to leave the English lyrics in the show. So I cut a version of the song without the English, and when I played it I thought, “Oh yeah, of course, we should just not have any English in any of the transitions at all.” We wanted it to be super legitimate and edgy and fun, and with the way the beats are working now it sounds familiar to our ears, but we’re hearing it only in Chinese.

LG: It sounds like you and Leigh are great collaborators.

DLW: Yes. Leigh is an extraordinary director; thing I love about working with her is her energy. She’s so meticulous in crafting little moments, and it’s just so fun to be in the room when she’s working. You know, when a bunch of designers are sitting around and really enjoying the director’s acting notes, and they’re informing how we think about what our jobs are, you know something good is going on.

The Summer of Hwang

2011-07-05T11:21:00.007-05:00

We’re two weeks into the run of Chinglish, and the excitement around this production is showing no sign of letting up soon. The press is abuzz with abundant praise; shows are selling out; Broadway is waiting impatiently.

Now that the rehearsal and preview period is over, the playwright, director, consultants, and designers have all left town, leaving only the cast and crew to run the show on a nightly basis. You can read all about the last hurrah of the full creative team—and other opening night shenanigans—in playwright David Henry Hwang’s final blog post of his series over at You Offend Me You Offend My Family.

Meanwhile, Chicago’s unofficial David Henry Hwang Festival (or Summer of Hwang, which ever you prefer) continues down the street at Silk Road Theatre Project, where another Hwang comedy, Yellow Face (directed by the Goodman’s Associate Producer, Steve Scott) will be showing through July 31. Check out Silk Road’s website for behind-the-scenes videos, and buy tickets for both shows on the Goodman’s website.

Top: Chinglish cast members Stephen Pucci and Larry Zhang on opening night. Right: Chinglish cast members Angela Lin and Christine Line on opening night. Photos by Eric Y. Exit.

Scene and Heard

2011-07-01T13:44:00.004-05:00

Happy long weekend everyone! While we're busy performing random acts of patriotism, the Chinglish crew will be at theater navigating their way through the tricky customs of modern-day China. If you haven't bought your tickets yet do so now; seriously, this show is selling out scary fast.

Meanwhile, here are this week's links!

Can the Mormons take on the Mormons? (Fox 13 Now)

Everyone talks about the separation between church and state, but what about church and theater? (OC Weekly)

The '60s through the eyes of Linda McCartney (London Evening Standard)

In present day London, a principal dancer with a background in drag racing dazzles at the Royal Ballet. (The Telegraph)

An iconic recording studio looks for the next great anthem. (Los Angeles Times)

The shifting standards of lewdness over time, as demonstrated in a painting. (The Guardian)

In New York, Central Park falls silent this summer (as much as it can). (The New York Times)

The New York Times notices that Broadway is starting to look like a boy's town. (The New York Times)

Build a New Route to Broadway if They'll Have You

2011-06-28T14:52:00.008-05:00

Last night Chinglish opened, finally and officially, with much fanfare and even a few covert celebrity sightings at the theater. Before the show, the cast and crew feasted on a 35-pound roasted pig, and over the weekend, participated in a ritualistic parade for good luck around the theater and backstage. You can read all about it in playwright David Henry Hwang’s blogs at You Offend Me You Offend My Family and Broadway’s Best Shows.

Meanwhile, if you haven’t yet, buy tickets to this show. Seriously. It’s amazing. Also, get this: Chinglish is now officially Broadway-bound! Recognize.

Photo: Johnny Wu, Angela Lin, Christine Lin, James Waterston, and Jennifer Lim in Chinglish. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

A Look Inside the Minister’s Cabinet

2011-06-27T14:19:00.015-05:00

By Joanna C. Lee, Chinglish Cultural Advisor

Chinglish officially opens tonight in the Albert. If you haven’t secured your tickets yet, buy them soon! This is not a show to be missed. Meanwhile, today’s post, from Chinglish Cultural Advisor Joanna C. Lee, concludes our series on the extensive research that went into the development of this new play with a look at the extraordinary attention to detail displayed on stage.

The wealth of Chinese visual details piled on the set of Chinglish did not go unnoticed at last week’s post-show talk back discussions. Several audience members—including one woman from Guiyang, the town where the play is set—have commented on everything from the accuracy of the restaurant settings to the quality of the hotel and apartment furnishings.

Shopping for Chinglish props has logged hundreds of thousands of air miles, from Guizhou Province to Chicago’s Chinatown, with many auspicious detours along the way. Every corner of every setting is based on recreating the extensive location photography taken by director Leigh Silverman during our trip to China last year.

Rather than trying to give a wide-ranging overview, let’s just look at one typical corner: the living room cabinet of Cai Guoliang, Minister of Culture for Guiyang City, an old-school Communist Party official who happens to be well-versed in the Chinese traditional arts. Here’s a brief look inside the Minister’s cabinet (a piece of lacquered bamboo purchased from a Chicago importer, shown below) with a brief note about the source of the contents.

1. Black lacquer mini-screen featuring photographs of four contemporary Chinese opera stars (a gift item from the Beijing-based China Northern Kunqu Opera Theater).

2. Collectable Yixing teapots, made from red clay (purchased in Chicago’s Chinatown).

3. Chinese dolls representing the traditional attire of ethnic minorities in Guizhou Province (sourced and flown into Chicago from Guiyang by the Western China Cultural Ecology Research Workshop; shown above).

4. Books worthy of a cultured official (above). The shelves now contain complete volumes of Confucius’s Analects, Laozi’s Book of Tao, works by Mencius and Mozi, a Song Dynasty treatise entitled On Being an Official, literary studies of Tang- and Song-Dynasty poetry, illustrated books on traditional porcelains and ancient coins and urns, and the two-volume Seventy-Year History of the Chinese Communist Revolution (all purchased at a bookstore in Chicago’s Chinatown).

5. Behind the doors is a selection of Chinese and Western liquor, including (empty) bottles of Johnny Walker Red Label, lychee liqueur and Shaoxing wine, a traditional beverage fermented from rice.

Scene and Heard

2011-06-24T16:44:00.005-05:00

Our favorite bilingual comedy, Chinglish, is playing NOW in the Albert Theatre. If you haven't snagged tickets yet (and you should—they're going fast) you can purchase them here. Meanwhile, here are this week's arts links for your web-browsing enjoyment:

Ballet and beer, together at last. (The New York Times)

A Renaissance gem uncovered in Britain. (The Guardian)

Speaking of Britain, their largest theater has a plan to reduce fidgeting during performances. (The Stage)

And Her Majesty's composer wants to drop an f-bomb on ill-mannered concert goers. (The Telegraph)

In DC, Trey McIntyre is bringing sexy back to ballet. (The Washington Post)

Sky divers + an indoor wind tunnel = indoor skydiving ballet in Prague. (The Telegraph)

Is your facebook update or tweet a form of art? (ARTnews)

Old potter, new potter, famous potter, be-speckled potter, Pottermore. (The Washington Post)

Photo of Jennifer Lim and James Waterston by Eric Y. Exit.

Cultural Minister Boone

2011-06-23T16:12:00.005-05:00

By Nazihah Adil, Development Intern

Today we’re shifting our focus from the intricacies of Chinese business and political customs to local administrative news—specifically, Mayor Emanuel’s appointment of Michelle T. Boone to an exciting new position in the arts. Meanwhile, for your daily fix of all things Chinglish, check out our video library for rehearsal and production videos; explore Chinglish Cultural Advisor Ken Smith’s series on the extensive research process that went into the development of this extraordinary new work; and read playwright David Henry Hwang’s journals at You Offend Me You Offend My Family and Broadway’s Best Shows. Chinglish is showing now through July 24 in the Albert; go here for tickets.

The Chicago arts and culture scene has witnessed dramatic changes in the past year, from a push to privatize the city’s largest free music festivals to the merger of the Department of Cultural Affairs and the Mayor’s Office of Special Events. In his last months in office, Mayor Richard M. Daley led a major restructuring of the city’s cultural initiatives in an attempt to close a $655 million budget gap. Successor Rahm Emanuel has made his opinion on the importance of the arts and culture to the city’s economic climate clear with his recent appointment of arts crusader Michelle T. Boone to the position of commissioner of the Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events (DCASE).

Above: Goodman Resident Director Chuck Smith, Michelle T. Boone, and Goodman Resident Artistic Associate Henry Godinez. Photo by Abby McKenna.

The appointment hints at the beginnings of a new plan to assess the city’s cultural resources and collaborate with artists and neighborhood groups to determine its collective needs and priorities. This information will be used to create new strategies for artistic and cultural growth in the city and foster economic growth. So who is this new civic leader? Boone began her career in the arts as director of Gallery 37, a community job training program for artistically inclined city youth. She went on to serve as senior program officer for culture at The Joyce Foundation, overseeing the distribution of nearly $2 million in grants to community arts organizations across the Midwest. Boone also serves on the boards of Arts Alliance Illinois, Grantmakers in the Arts, and other local arts organizations.

While working at The Joyce Foundation and Gallery 37, Boone developed “a strong sense of how the Department of Cultural Affairs could be a conduit between community arts organizations and the city’s neighborhoods.” In a recent address before the City Council Committee on Cultural Affairs, Special Events, and Recreation, Boone emphasized the importance of the department “as a resource to elevate community-based, neighborhood arts organizations,” and as a link between artists and neighborhood groups and resources beyond just the DCASE.

Business Cards: A Question of Character(s)

2011-06-23T10:30:00.009-05:00

By Ken Smith, Chinglish Cultural Advisor

Today Chinglish Cultural Advisor Ken Smith continues his series on the extensive research process that went into the development of this awesome new play. You can read about his role in this process here, and get a recap of one of his research trips to Guiyang here. Meanwhile, for a preview of this fascinating new play in action, check out our video library for production and rehearsal films. Or, better yet, come see the show in all its glory! It is showing now through July 24.

How authentic is Chinglish? We’re under threat of death not to spoil any surprises. Also, in the interest of a leaner, tighter script, much of the play’s cultural “authenticity”—like having a clueless American businessman not knowing that he should fight over the check—has wound up on the proverbial cutting room floor. But we can say that by the time previews started last weekend, each of the cast members were carrying actual business cards with their character names in Chinese (below).

This may be just a small example, but it shows the level of detail the Goodman’s props department has put into recreating a little slice of China. It’s also a touch that should resonate for anyone who’s ever done business across the Pacific, where status-conscious Asians always need a name card to figure out exactly who they’re dealing with.

The prop cards were modeled on actual name cards from government officials and western businessmen we met in Guizhou, and most of the Chinese cast members had some input in making their own cards. Some actors playing multiple characters in Chinglish also carry multiple cards. (One cast member even wondered half-seriously if his card would impress women.) We didn’t expect, though, that such a tiny production detail would illustrate the complexities of translation in the play. Or that it would end up modifying the script itself.

Having written Chinglish in, well, English, David Henry Hwang used Romanized names for his characters. Only when we began designing the business cards did we realize that Vice Minister Xu Yan’s given name could mean either “dazzlingly beautiful” (艳) or “swallow” (燕), as in the bird, depending on the Chinese character and tonal pronunciation of “Yan.” But combined with the family name Xu, it could mean “fulfill a verbal promise” (许言). Prosecutor Li had the opposite problem, since she had only a family name—and a business card with only a single character (李).

For the record—at least for now—actress Jennifer Lim now plays “Fulfill a Verbal Promise,” Prosecutor Li’s given name is now “Danfei” (丹扉), the actual Chinese name of actress Angela Lin, and Larry Zhang—in a walk-on role as a driver—has no lines but still carries a business card (above) with his real Chinese name, “Zhang Lei” (张磊).

Chinglish: A Journey to its Guizhou Roots

2011-06-21T14:01:00.022-05:00

By Ken Smith, Chinglish Cultural Advisor

On Saturday night Chinglish had the first of its nine previews that precede the official opening next Monday night. You can read all about the preview process from playwright David Henry Hwang himself in his Chinglish journals at You Offend Me You Offend My Family, and Broadway’s Best Shows. For now, Chinglish Cultural Advisor Ken Smith is back with part two in his series on the extensive research that went into the development of this play.

Chinglish had already gone through a couple of drafts when my wife Joanna and I started getting the emails. Playwright David Henry Hwang initially told us that, in order to feel the frustrations of the play’s central character, director Leigh Silverman actually wanted to land in provincial China after a 20-hour flight, and sit in business meetings without being able to understand a single word. David, for his part, wanted to see if his recollections of our trip in 2005 that initially inspired the play were still relevant in 2010, since five years in China is like two decades in the rest of the world.

Once the play’s producers decided to join us, the journey took on much greater focus—as well as a bigger hotel bill. We started in Shanghai in July 2010, coinciding with the World Expo—a glimpse of China at its most developed—before traveling across the country to Guiyang, the capital of Guizhou, China’s poorest province and a latecomer to its booming economy.

[Above: Guiyang, the setting of Chinglish, is an economically poor city of about four million people now in the midst of an aggressive construction boom, with all the urban disruption that goes with it. Here's Guiyang on a good day, surrounded by the mountains in the background. Photo by John A. Wells.]

[Above: And this is Guiyang on a bad day, with the air quality of a construction zone.]

[Left: The Guiyang Grand Theatre, the center of conflict in Chinglish, is a mark of the city's newfound prosperity.]

Why Guiyang? It’s a long story, but for now let’s say that the ambitions of Guizhou (a province rather comparable to West Virginia) far outstrip its local talent. Back in 2002, Joanna and I found ourselves—without formal anthropological training or record company experience—co-music directors of a series of recordings devoted to Chinese minority music. Lee Wai Kit, the Hong Kong publisher and businessman who brought us into the project—without any real museum experience—soon found himself running an eco-museum that has since won international awards for cultural preservation. Our Guizhou guanxi was good.

Following the theme of the play, our Chinglish tour had two objectives: meet with American businessmen in China, and interact with local officials. The first was easy; Guiyang may be a city of four million people but socially it’s still a small town, especially where the American expat network is concerned. Just head to the local coffee shop, where businessman Chris DeLong (from Indiana) found opportunities in a land where even Starbucks hasn’t ventured.

Meeting officials was a bit more strategic. Unlike Shanghai or Beijing, where locals are rather jaded by westerners, Guiyang still takes an innocent delight in getting noticed by people from abroad. They’ve heard much about Shanghai’s recent love affair with Broadway, but have little experience with it themselves.

[Right: Officials, media and cultural workers in Guiyang come out to hear playwright David Henry Hwang compare Broadway to non-profit theater in his talk, "The Artist in the Age of Commerce."]

Being affiliated with prominent cultural organizations, we were able through Wai Kit to set up a public talk with “distinguished Broadway playwright David Henry Hwang”—who, not incidentally, had put Guizhou on the theatrical map in his previous play Yellow Face. Because of good relations with the media, we traveled around town with an “embedded press corps” of 20 writers and photographers shadowing our every move. Soon the officials came out to meet us.

After our trip, the rewrites were fast and furious. Not that Chinglish changed so much in it storyline or its dramatic sweep, but subsequent drafts were filled with finely etched details. David’s characters seemed more firmly rooted in the Guizhou soil, and if Leigh didn’t know before what it was like to sit in chaotic business meetings in China, she certainly does now.

[Left: The Chinglish team meets for lunch with local artists, shadowed by the local press corps (standing). ]

[Top photo of Guiyang by John A. Wells. All other photos courtesy of the Western China Cultural Ecology Research Workshop.]

Seeds of the Wee-Pie

2011-06-15T14:20:00.005-05:00

By Lisa Dillman

Playwright Lisa Dillman is a member of the Goodman’s Playwrights Unit—a group of four local writers who have met monthly for the last year to workshop their new plays in progress. As the culmination of that program, her play American Wee-Pie will be featured in a staged reading this Monday, June 20 at 7pm in the Owen Theatre. Tickets are FREE, but rumor is that the reading is filling up fast, so reserve your seats here, or call the box office at 312.443.3800.

Playwrights are often asked to describe where a new work came from, its so-called seed idea. I’ve been asked this recently with regard to American Wee-Pie, the piece I am developing this season as part of the Goodman’s inaugural Playwrights Unit.

The answer is complicated. For me, there is almost never a single seed idea. Instead, a play begins to grow when several disparate ideas bump into each other and begin a conversation inside my head. Eventually, out of that linkage, a narrative starts to take shape.

With American Wee-Pie the bumping seed ideas went something like this:

Idea #1: In late 2009, as the economy was flailing, two of my friends were downsized out of their longtime careers. In telling me their stories, they both used the same expression; they said they needed to figure out their “second act.” It occurred to me that in this era of whole career categories disappearing never to return, a person’s “second act” might be almost anything. Poised in a kind of career intermission, one could view the second act as either terrifying or freeing. Or both.

Idea #2: Around that same time, I noticed that, despite the struggling economy, the number of high-end cupcake shops in Chicago seemed to be on the rise. The cupcake was thriving in hard times. I began to “research” this informally, sampling cupcakes all over the city. Though they varied a bit in style and presentation from place to place, all were pricey. In an online conversation with a friend, I mentioned my new interest in unaffordable small cakes, and she responded with some heated anti-cupcake rhetoric, assuring me that the cupcake bubble was unsustainable and about to burst.

Idea #3: The third part of the Wee-Pie seed equation was a moment that has actually been living in me for many years. Just before I left home to go away to college, I took an Amtrak trip from Chicago to Los Angeles to visit friends and relatives. I’d had some problematic teenage years leading up to this departure, and I was desperate to put the uglier bits of my past behind me and find out who I might yet become in the world up ahead. I got to Chicago very late and had to race to Union Station to make my train. I arrived with only minutes to spare; a loudspeaker was blaring that my train was in final boarding. I sprinted through the station and onto the platform. I noticed a balding middle-aged man in a rumpled gray suit running up ahead of me, head down, puffing. When he had nearly reached the boarding car he suddenly staggered to a stop and spun around toward me. His eyes brushed over mine as he went down to his knees and then fell straight over onto the concrete. A conductor rushed over and shooed people back. Paramedics came within minutes. The conductor shoved me onto my train, and I watched out the window as the EMTs tried—and failed—to revive the man in the gray suit. And then my train pulled out.

That man’s face—his eyes passing over mine for just an instant—has stayed with me. Bearing accidental witness to such an intimate part of a stranger’s life story—its end—seemed to carry with it a sort of cosmic responsibility. I have thought of that moment repeatedly, always at those times when something important in my life is either beginning or ending. Or both.

So. These three seeds converged in my mind and began a conversation that eventually evolved into American Wee-Pie—a comedy about a career second act, set in a cupcake bakery, and focused on a character who, haunted by two recent deaths, challenges himself to turn an ending into a beginning.

Chinglish Offstage: The Role of a Cultural Advisor

2011-06-14T16:22:00.008-05:00

By Ken Smith, Chinglish Cultural Advisor

My wife Joanna Lee and I used to be China consultants, but after the thrashing the consultants receive in Chinglish we’ve now changed our title to “advisors.” The job description, though, is pretty much the same: resident authenticity police for a bilingual, cross-cultural play about an American businessman in China. How does one become a China “advisor”? As David Henry Hwang’s businessman says early in the play, every story is different, each deal giving birth to its own unique journey. From there (he soon finds out), those journeys are generally steered by guanxi, the distinctly Chinese spin on the idea of connections and relationships.

Joanna’s and my journey started nearly 10 years ago, when we began meeting Western artists who wanted to come to China and Chinese artists wanting to come to the West. Thanks to our own guanxi—I was a journalist with some diversions in book publishing and public relations; Joanna was an academic with a broad range of arts administrative experience—we could always find someone to help those artists with whatever they happened to need.

David Henry Hwang’s “Guizhou period,” as he sometimes calls it, began when he heard some village music that Joanna and I had recorded from that province back in 2003. The Dong people, one of the minority populations in that corner of the country, became a dramatic coda in his play Yellow Face (currently running at Chicago’s Silk Road Theatre Project directed by the Goodman’s Associate Producer Steve Scott). Soon we were traveling to China together, introducing David to people from different fields, from expatriate businessmen to the head of the Shanghai Opera House, who engaged in a friendly debate about Puccini. (Zhang Guoyong, for the record, thinks Madama Butterfly is an astute portrayal of Asian values; David, as we learned from M. Butterfly, feels rather differently. The two agreed to disagree, and a few choice lines eventually worked their way into Yellow Face.)

The Shanghai parties were indistinguishable from a night out in London or Berlin, with David and Joanna being practically the only Chinese people. Roomfuls of colorful characters were on the make, hustling to close a deal and get back home. “You know,” David said at the time, “there’s a David Mamet play here about American businessmen in China.”

As we all know by now, there was actually a David Henry Hwang play waiting to be written. Last summer, in-between Chinglish workshops in New York, David traveled again to China, this time with director Leigh Silverman and the play’s producers, who were astonished to find that much of the play’s exaggerated humor turned out to be based in vérité.

Coming soon: traveling with the Chinglish team in China.

Chinglish Roundup

2011-06-14T12:09:00.005-05:00

Today is the first of five days of tech rehearsal for the cast and crew of Chinglish. The set has gone up in the Albert, the costumes are getting their last few stitches, and the script has been put on a strict “diet,” in the words of playwright David Henry Hwang. If you haven’t been following his weekly web log at You Offend Me You Offend My Family, or his daily journal at Broadway's Best Shows, we highly recommend giving them a read (as well as checking out our Chinglish video library) for a fascinating look into the making-of this new play.

Performances of Chinglish begin this Saturday! Go here for tickets.

Scene and Heard

2011-06-10T11:10:00.008-05:00

If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know that we’ve still got one long week ahead of us before David Henry Hwang’s Chinglish premieres in the Albert. (June 18. Be there.) Luckily, this Monday at the Goodman we’re planning a staged reading in the Owen of another new work to hold you over—Rohina Malik’s The Mecca Tales, which was developed as part of our Playwrights Unit program.

The Playwrights Unit is the Goodman’s group of four local playwrights who have been meeting monthly over the course of a year to workshop their new plays in progress. Monday’s reading represents the culmination of Ms. Malik’s work on her play The Mecca Tales over the past year. The following Monday, June 20, we’ll stage a reading of another Playwrights Unit writer’s work, when Lisa Dillman’s American Wee-Pie takes to the Owen stage. Tickets to both events are FREE, but reservations are required (and the buzz is they're filling up fast), so if you’re hoping to snag a seat give the box office a call at 312.443.3800, or visit this page.

In the meantime, check out this week’s links, harvested fresh for your reading enjoyment:

While we continue to explore the culture and customs of contemporary China, The New York Times takes in the classical culture of China's neighbors to the North. (We’re keeping our fingers crossed for a US tour of Chinggis Khaan.)

What light is that through yonder multiplex breaks? The Los Angeles Times finds out.

And back on the East Coast, a critic takes note of one fleeting night when old-school underground theater came to life in Brooklyn. (The New York Times)

Speaking of coming to life, The Atlantic declares Google’s Les Paul-inspired doodle the search engine’s coolest doodle to date. (We’re still partial to the Martha Graham tidbit from this past April.)

And Denver’s National Theatre Conservatory meets a sad and untimely end. (The Denver Post)

The Los Angeles Times examines the dark marketing arts behind luring in an audience, one Tony performance at a time.

And in the UK, a theater (theatre?) manifesto hoping to ensure the young squirts have access to live-action culture. (The Stage)

Notes from the Big Room

2011-06-08T16:33:00.010-05:00

The cast and creative team of Chinglish are in their final week in the Healy, the Goodman’s expansive rehearsal space recently dubbed the “Big Room” by playwright David Henry Hwang. This week in his journal at You Offend Me You Offend My Family, he talks Chinglish rewrites, the team of people it takes to translate a single word, and steps forward. (Warning: spoiler alert!)Also, for a sample of those Chinese feasts Johnny Wu spoke so highly of, check out his daily blog at Broadway's Best Shows.

Photo of Jennifer Lim and James Waterston in rehearsal for Chinglish by Eric Y. Exit.

A Rediscovery Through Language

2011-06-07T12:28:00.011-05:00

By Johnny Wu, Bing and Judge Xu Geming in Chinglish.

During a viewing of an Olympics in my youth, my mother offered up to her guests a thought that lived somewhere between levity and heartbreak. "This little one will only root for America," she said in Mandarin. The guests shared a knowing laugh.

Now that I’m fully immersed in Tony Award-winning David Henry Hwang's latest play, Chinglish, here at the Goodman, I'm enjoying the feeling that I might finally be pleasing my mother. Outside of our lead and anchor, James Waterston, everyone else in the cast speaks Mandarin including UK native Stephen Pucci, whose command over the world's toughest language remains charmingly impressive in the rehearsal room. The cast spends ample time together; saying that we all get along would be an understatement. We frequent Chicago's Chinatown, lug home tons of groceries, gather in an apartment and cook up feasts to satiate emperors. I employ cooking skills that were (at the time) unwillingly learned from my mother. We laugh, we joke, we drink, we eat, we get lost in impassioned discourse, we watch ball games, we go out, we stay in—and through it all, we speak Mandarin.

Sure, I spent my first eight years in Shanghai, but I grew up in the urban paradise of Queens, NYC. My mom grew up in the rural oppression of Cultural Revolution China. When I arrived in this country, I immediately discarded my Chinese identity—I mean, who doesn't enjoy hot showers, and freedom of speech? And over the years, I've been thoroughly convinced that the American way of life is indeed my way, but I've always struggled to connect with my mother.

Well, a few days ago, I called my mom to tell her the French Open women's championship match was on NBC. She's not a tennis fan. But she is a China fan. And when Li Na became the sport's first-ever Chinese winner of a Grand Slam title, I knew that my mom was enjoying her nation's triumph. And I, too, felt a sense of overwhelming pride. As China continues to fortify its identity as a global leader, joining the ranks of countries like the US, I'm finding more comfort and more urgency alike in representing, as fully as I can, all that it is to be Chinese American.

For me, Chinglish has been a portal through which I'm afforded a better knowledge of myself. But beyond that, it has offered me a group of people that I can easily love. And it is with this love that this exquisite story is told. David's writing is poignant, hilarious, and stunningly truthful. The cast performs with veracity, with mastery and with regards to Leigh Silverman, our director, my only fear in using the word “virtuosic” to describe her abilities would be that the English language might run out of better adjectives to suit her future endeavors.

Chinglish begins performances at the Goodman on June 18th, closing on July 24th. Join us for a story that's set halfway around the world and yet lives so close to us—a story about our endless need to communicate beyond all else.

Top (left to right): Chinglish cast members Brian Nishii, James Waterston, Johnny Wu, Angela Lin, Stephen Pucci, and Jennifer Lim. Middle: Johnny Wu, Jennifer Lim, Chinglish translator Candace Chong, and Stephen Pucci. Bottom: Chinglish translator Candace Chong and cast member Larry Zhang.

A Glimpse of Chinglish

2011-06-01T10:54:00.006-05:00

Rehearsals for Chinglish—David Henry Hwang’s funny, sexy, clever, timely, bilingual new play—are in full swing in the Healy Rehearsal Room. Only two and a half more weeks until it takes to the Albert stage! To document the process of developing this extraordinary work, the Tony-winning playwright has been prolifically blogging about the rehearsal process. Read his daily updates at Broadway’s Best Shows, or get an in-depth look into his process as a playwright in his weekly posts at You Offend Me You Offend My Family.

Chinglish begins previews on Saturday, June 18. Check out our behind-the-scenes rehearsal and meet and greet videos to hold you over until then.

Above: Chinglish Director Leigh Silverman and Playwright David Henry Hwang in rehearsal. Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Publicly Displayed Affection

2011-05-31T10:39:00.008-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

This week is your last chance to see Sarah Ruhl’s Stage Kiss—a play which features every kind of kiss imaginable—before it closes on June 5. In a recent issue of OnStage, as well as on this very blog, Associate Producer Steve Scott broke down some of the silver screen’s most iconic kisses. From the first kiss ever filmed in 1896, to more recent kisses such as that between two lovers in 2005’s Brokeback Mountain, cinema kisses have caught our attention for years. Cinema kisses, though, are not the only artistic renderings of kissing that have entranced the masses! Before there was access to film, artists were sculpting, drawing, etching and painting kisses for ages! To honor these embraces, frozen in time and form, we bring you five iconic kisses in art history!

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec—The Kiss (1892)
Lautrec found himself consumed with the topic of brothel women for some time, and The Kiss is one of many canvases from this era. This particular embrace, painted in bold red colors and capturing a passionate female couple, shows the beginning of his curiosity with lesbianism. Later canvases reflected similar couples in bed, sometimes kissing, other times separate. Whether he was a champion of their lifestyle or a critic is debated by art historians, but there is no denying the moments he captured between these women in day, when the customers and spectators were away, show us a much different side of their life.

Auguste Rodin—The Kiss (1889)
Originally conceived as a single image among many in his The Gates of Hell relief, The Kiss is a reference to a story in Dante’s Inferno. Circle 2, Canto 5, describes the story of a thirteenth-century Italian woman who falls for her husband’s brother. Much like He and She in Stage Kiss, whose flames are ignited by the story they share on stage, this portion of Inferno describes Francesca and Paolo falling in love while reading the story of Lancelot and Guinevere. In the sculpture you can see Paolo clutching a copy of the book that spurred their love.

Gustav Klimt—The Kiss (1907)
The Kiss is one of, if not the most famous work by Gustav Klimt. Both the man and woman actively hold each other, indicating a rather intimate embrace. Klimt created this work just 10 years after helping found the Vienna Secession, a movement in Austrian art away from historical relevance and toward artistic freedom.

Marc Chagall—Birthday (1915)
No artist so loved his wife as Chagall did Bella. Her likeness appears in a number of his works, and Birthday depicts another day in their journey as lovers. After four years of working, studying art and missing Bella while in Paris, Chagall returned home to Russia. This painting, created soon after his return, depicts a birthday of Bella’s that the two were able to spend together. Many viewers note how the contorted body of the male appears to be “bending over backwards,” to kiss her, and liken it to a representation of Chagall doing anything for Bella, especially on her birthday.

Pablo Picasso—The Kiss (1969)
While Picasso painted many kisses in his career, The Kiss of 1969 stands out because its production year. In 1967 and 1968 Picasso completed his extremely joyful, funny and explorative “367 series,” consisting of 367 prints (etchings, dry points, and aquatints) completed in one year at the age of 87! Both the series and this oil painting display Picasso’s never ending joie de vivre; for it was at the age of 88 that Picasso painted this bold and emotional kiss. The painting later went on to sell at auction for $17.4 million dollars (in 2008), an amazing feat for a post-1960 Picasso work.

Presenting the Grand Tradition of Meta Theater

2011-05-27T12:09:00.007-05:00

By Neena Arndt, Literary Associate

“Pat pat, and here’s a marvelous convenient place for our rehearsal,” declares Peter Quince in Act III of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “This green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn-brake our tiring house; and we will do it in action as we will do it before the duke.”

Quince plans to present Pyramus and Thisbe to the Duke, but his troupe of rude mechanicals proves less adept at acting than he might hope—they miss their cues and mispronounce words. There are other challenges for the group, too: making sure the characters don’t frighten the audience, finding a way to represent the moon on stage, and constructing a wall costume.

Writing some three centuries later, Anton Chekhov created a character who faces the same kinds of problems: although Konstantin in The Seagull is thrilled with the location of his performance (“An empty space. No scenery. Just the lake and the horizon.”) his leading actress Nina is dubious about his playwriting abilities (“It’s not easy you know, acting in your play. My character’s not real,” she says), and his crew run off for a swim just a few minutes before curtain time. Like Peter Quince and the rude mechanicals, Konstantin and Nina also face significant criticism from their audience. While Peter Quince’s audience tires of the characters (“I am weary of this moon. Would he would change.”), Konstantin’s onlookers ask serpent-tongued questions: “Is this one of those experimental things?” Neither audience waits until the end of the play to voice their opinions.

Theater artists who present A Midsummer Night’s Dream or The Seagull sympathize with Quince and Konstantin, because putting up a play is tricky business, whether you’re a tradesman moonlighting as an actor-manager, a wannabe intellectual, or a group of savvy professional artists. And when—as in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Seagull—you’re putting up not only a play, but a play-within-a-play, the process may prove doubly complex. And now, adding to the long list of plays that contain plays, Sarah Ruhl’s new comedy, Stage Kiss, playing through June 5 in the Albert Theatre, gives Goodman audiences an off-kilter and self-deprecating glimpse of what we theater folks do. In Stage Kiss, we watch as a director, Adrian Schwalbach (played with bumbling guilelessness by Ross Lehman) puts up a play, from auditions to opening night. Actors He (affably portrayed by Mark Montgomery) and She (the blithely profound Jenny Bacon) are cast in Adrian’s play, and struggle to create great—or at least OK—performances in the humorously mediocre play-within-the-play.

To see the hijinks, hilarity and hiccups that characterize Adrian’s process, you’ll have to book tickets at the Goodman. If you do take in the show, please keep your comments to yourselves until after the performance. And when the characters declare the conclusion of the play—and they make it clear several times by stating “the end”—please “give us your hands, if we be friends.” Because applause, just like the play-within-the-play, is a theatrical convention that never goes out of style.

Top: Nina (Heather Wood) performs in the play-within-the-play in this season's Robert Falls-directed production of The Seagull. Photo by Liz Lauren. Bottom: Stage Kiss's play-within-a-play: He (Mark Montgomery) and She (Jenny Bacon) as Johnny Lowell and Ada Wilcox. Photo by Liz Lauren.

In Rehearsal with David Henry Hwang

2011-05-24T15:44:00.003-05:00

Last week, David Henry Hwang’s newest play, Chinglish—which will receive its world premiere in the Albert Theatre next month—began rehearsals. All professional theater productions are ambitious, time-consuming projects, as each show requires many months of planning, writing (or rewriting), rehearsing and tweaking before it ever goes live in front of an audience. But the development of Chinglish has been a particularly complex process: the bi-lingual comedy is written and performed in English and Mandarin, a consideration that has introduced a whole new set of challenges to its development, from the tricky casting process of locating bi-lingual actors, to strategizing a way to incorporate projected surtitles of the Mandarin dialogue into the set design.

Throughout the rehearsal process the playwright will be chronicling his experience in the rehearsal room during the final few weeks of the play's development for both YouOffendMeYouOffendMyFamily and BroadwaysBestShows, and we’ll be linking to his posts as he writes them. So check back often for up-to-the-minute updates on this exciting new work!

Designed for a Kiss

2011-05-23T23:22:00.000-05:00

By Allie Wigley, Marketing Intern

When confronted with the task of designing costumes for Stage Kiss, Linda Roethke found herself in the curious position of dreaming up clothes for not one play, but three—Stage Kiss, a play about life in the theater, features two plays within the play, the first of which is a 1930s melodrama, and the second, a grungy piece set in the present. The Goodman’s Allie Wigley caught up with the designer to talk inspiration, research and tackling a large scale project that seamlessly dips in and out of period costumes.

Allie Wigley: How did you initially get involved with this production?

Linda Roethke: Jessica Thebus and I have collaborated on Sarah Ruhl's The Clean House (Goodman), Dead Man’s Cell Phone (Steppenwolf) and recently, Orlando at Court Theatre; she invited me to design the costumes for this production.

AW: How did you approach the design for Stage Kiss?

LR: That’s such a good question. I always begin the design process with research, and what guides this process is sometimes practical questions, but most often questions about the world of the play and the characters that leads to a strong point of view about the themes of the play. One of the questions I explored for Stage Kiss was, how might an actor dress themselves for an audition for a style piece? How does a deepening sense of character through the rehearsal process alter the way they might see themselves on and off stage? It’s a pretty broad and subjective field of inquiry.

AW: How did the costumes evolve through the design process?

LR: One of the important steps was actually hearing the play read in staged-reading form by the cast in an early draft last year. Jessica had cast the production and having everyone in the room—the actors that would originate the roles, Sarah Ruhl, and the director—was very helpful.

I then did more specific research in terms of the contemporary clothing for the actors, and ended up layering in vintage pieces for the characters such as [the director] Adrian and She [the leading lady] which is a nod to the past but also features styles that are popular now. For the scenes of the 1930s play within the play, I thought about what that caché of glamour was in the ’30s and how we look back at it through a contemporary lens. So I had to pull out my favorite 1930s films, and films set in the 1930s, and watch them again—such a tough job being a designer. Working with Jessica, I filtered through the piles of research until I felt the need to draw. I also had conversations with my team about how the second play within the play morphs the clothing.

AW: Did you build most of the costumes or did you find a lot of the pieces?

LR:I met with the Goodman’s costume shop manager, Heidi McMath, to talk through the designs. It was so important to all of us that the character She experiences her world changing, turning into the glamorous romantic world of the past in a fairly seamless and, yes, slightly ridiculous way. A big part of this was that the tailoring of the men's costumes in the ’30s play; that their clothes be impeccably tailored. I designed the tailoring for the men in midnight blue, a heightened blue, which is very 1930s, but rarely done anymore. The Goodman staff did all the tailoring for me, built all the tuxedos, the smoking jacket, the dressing gown. Sarah had also described a green dress [shown above] in the script, and it had to be built, so I looked at green deco glass. And we ended up building altogether three green dresses for the story telling and Millicent and Millie’s costumes as well.

AW: How do the costumes reflect the experience of the characters?

LR: It’s all a progression; all the relationships are mirrored in the costumes. For example, look at the costumes of He, the leading man. He as an actor, played by Mark L. Montgomery, goes from the actor in casual, modern black and white [right], to elegant blacks and whites: suits and ’30s formal wear [above]. It’s all a progression. He starts early on in casual wear and becomes more elaborate as She falls in love with him.

Then there is She. In the beginning you really don’t know much about her. She has a nice bag and nice shoes. Basic, plain clothes. After that she becomes Ada Wilcox through her costume. Here’s a middle-age woman with a 16-year-old kid and she’s back in a romance where she’s glamorous and he’s gorgeous. It was important that the costumes for that part be sparkly and elegant and slightly comedic. It’s heightened; it’s as if she’s looking through rose-colored glasses. After that She, the actress, becomes Ada Wilcox, the character she plays, through her costumes.

AW: It looks like there is a lot of black and white in your sketches. Were there any other specific materials, patterns or colors you wanted to repeat throughout?

LR: I’m using the stripes, the black and white, the elegant pinstripe idea and the classic hat. I have nods to those material elements throughout the play, outside of the 1930s part. Quite a few stripes, because it’s “in” now in fashion and fits in the plays within the play. There is a lot of mixing of contemporary clothing and vintage clothing, which is very popular in New York right now. I think the black is used a lot because it’s worn by a lot of theater people. Black was also extensively used in the ’30s in black deco lacquered wood. It’s black and white with a very deco pallet to go with the green dress. I used a lot of silks; all the costumes for the ’30s play are made up of silks, black satin, silk chiffon, and beautiful midnight blue wools.

AW: You mentioned that the costumes progress with the characters. How is that complicated by the plays within the play?

LR: I think the costumes will help clarify what is going on. It can be a little confusing when you read the script because multiple actors play multiple roles. When audiences experience it, I hope the costumes help keep things clear. You’ll have to let me know!

Design renderings by Linda Roethke.

Mayor Richard M. Daley —A Lasting Legacy at Goodman Theatre

2011-05-19T15:09:00.005-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

On Monday Richard M. Daley ended his 22 year reign as Mayor of Chicago—to date he is the longest serving mayor of our fair city.

His advocacy and enthusiasm for the arts has been significant, and it has lead to such incredible feats, such as the revitalization of the North Loop Theater District, the creation of Millennium Park and—most significantly to Goodman Theatre—the building of our beautiful home on Dearborn Street.

Mayor Daley not only played a key role in securing funding for the new Goodman Theatre, he helped to arrange the donation of the Selwyn and Harris Theaters and he participated in several high-profile events surrounding our building campaign.

At the November 23rd re-dedication ceremony of the new Goodman Theatre, we were very pleased to recognize and thank Mayor Daley and his wife Maggie for the significant contribution they have made to the life of our organization.

An acclaimed cast of actors honored Mayor and Mrs. Daley (and even Ebenezer Scrooge came by for a visit!). Check out this video from the event.

And a more permanent recognition now exists at the Goodman—at the November 23rd event, we dedicated two seats in our Albert Theatre, B-13 and B-14, which bear plaques with Mayor and Mrs. Daley’s names.

Photo: Goodman Executive Director Roche Schulfer, trustee and Campaign for the New Goodman Theatre Leader Peter C.B. Bynoe and Mayor Richard M. Daley at the public announcement of the New Goodman Theatre building project.

Matthew Morrison Danced His Way into My Heart or, How Erin Gaynor Got Her Theatrical Groove Back

2011-05-17T15:51:00.005-05:00

By Erin Gaynor, Development Intern

I think every person in theater had a moment in their life where they knew that they need to be involved in the arts in some capacity. For Matthew Morrison, the headliner of Goodman Theatre’s annual Gala this Saturday, May 21, his moment was when he attended a theater camp at a young age. Years later, during his sophomore year of high school, he made the choice to continue pursuing singing over a promising career in soccer. Morrison reflected in an interview with Parade, saying,"I think I chose the right one but it was probably one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make."

Making the decision to pursue art versus possibly a more “reliable” career in another field is never easy. Some parents are incredibly supportive, some think it’s a quick way into debt (note: if your parents are in this field, tell them to read this article featured in USA Today). But for me, I can’t pull myself away from theater because of Matthew Morrison.

I have only seen one Broadway show my entire life—Hairspray. I saw it the summer of my sophomore year of high school. Prior to seeing Hairspray, I had performed in a few theatrical productions, primarily because my sister and brother had. Theater was a fun after-school activity, nothing more. Then came Matthew Morrison’s Link Larkin. I was infatuated with the character thanks to the John Waters film, but Morrison’s performance was stellar. I was enjoying the musical a lot, and then, the song, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” began. Matthew Morrison worked it. And I don’t mean he danced really well—he worked it. He hit each move with such exuberance that I lost my mild passion for theater and gained a full-fledged love affair. How can one person pumping their arms and moving their legs have such an effect on a high school girl? The phrase “the magic of theater” is over-used, but there was something special about his performance and it remains a pivotal moment in my life. I tried to ignore theater’s grip on me when I went into college. I thought I’d chose the “sensible” profession of teaching history. But by the end of my freshman year, I was a theater studies major.

And to make an even fuller circle, the Goodman’s Gala is a major fundraiser for our Education and Community Engagement programs. In programs like the Student Subscription Series and Cindy Bandle Young Critics, high school students come to Goodman Theatre to see our productions for free and get involved on a deeper level, from post-show discussions to writing professional theatrical reviews. I’d like to think these students have had similar moments of revelation to mine or Matthew’s. No one goes into the arts for the money, and any sort of fame is a complete gamble. You get involved with the arts because they pull you in and simply won’t let go.

The Rapid Rise of Sarah Ruhl

2011-05-10T10:15:00.005-05:00

By Neena Arndt, Literary Associate
Playwright Sarah Ruhl’s newest work, Stage Kiss, opened at the Goodman last night. Here, the Goodman’s Literary Associate, Neena Arndt, chronicles this young writer’s ascent from an unknown to a Pulitzer Prize nominee.

When Sarah Ruhl was a sophomore at Brown University, she signed up for a course taught by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Paula Vogel. Though she was then an aspiring poet, Ruhl dove headfirst into the class, impressing Vogel with her one-of-a-kind voice—soulful, witty and savagely funny—and eventually altering her aspirations to include writing for the theater. Ruhl went on to study intensively with Vogel, earning an MFA in playwriting from Brown in 2001. Since then the young writer has seen her plays produced nationally and internationally, and has earned accolades including a Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, a Helen Merrill Award and in 2006 a MacArthur Fellowship; she has twice been a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. A native of Wilmette, Illinois, Ruhl returns to the Goodman for her third production with Stage Kiss. The Clean House was a highlight of the 2005/2006 Season, and was followed two seasons later by the epic Passion Play. Her other plays include In the Next Room or the vibrator play; Dead Man’s Cell Phone; Demeter in the City; Eurydice; Orlando and Melancholy Play.

It is no accident that three of the above titles include the word “play.” Ruhl’s plays are conscious of being plays. There is no pretense that the worlds she creates are real in any literal sense—rather, they use fantasy and metaphor to plumb very real emotional depths. “I try to interpret how people subjectively experience life,” she has said. “Everyone has a great, horrible opera inside him. I feel that my plays, in a way, are very old-fashioned. They’re pre-Freudian in the sense that the Greeks and Shakespeare worked with similar assumptions.” In her plays, blizzards can happen indoors. People can turn into almonds; rocks can talk. And, in the case of Stage Kiss, it can become increasingly unclear whether real life is any more real than what happens onstage.

While Ruhl’s style is stunningly theatrical—the arresting images she conjures offer endless creative possibilities to directors and designers—she has also achieved her teenage aspiration of becoming a poet. Her language is clean and potent, each word precisely chosen. Characters confess their innermost thoughts and feelings, speaking often of their dreams. In Stage Kiss, two characters speak in unison, confessing to the audience that they each have dreamed about the other for years: “I dream that I steal your quilt, your childhood quilt. And it’s a terrible act of betrayal.” Rather than providing subtle clues about a character’s psyche, Ruhl lays bare the impossibly complex yet instantly recognizable inner workings of her characters’ minds.

Although the situations she explores are often tragic, Ruhl traverses heartbreak and pain with sly humor and carefully measured levity. Life, in a Sarah Ruhl play, is simultaneously sublime and awful, uproariously funny and gut-wrenchingly sad. It is, perhaps, this precise balance between tragedy and comedy that has made Ruhl a favorite with audiences worldwide—and that promises to make Stage Kiss a rollicking and thought-provoking experience for audiences here in Chicago.

Photo: Sarah Ruhl (left) and Stage Kiss director Jessica Thebus.Photo by Liz Lauren.

Casting, Chemistry, and Us

2011-05-06T11:21:00.005-05:00

By Erin Gaynor, Development Intern

It’s pretty typical when you start to make some motions toward being employed, that you meet with the entire team you’re going to work with. It’s to make sure you’ll work well together because at the end of the day, you don’t want to work alongside someone who is inconsolably awkward or poorly mannered (or insert your own coworker horror story here). I always assumed the same for casting, but on a much more melodramatic level.

“Sparks are flying through the air! We have found our leading couple!” That is what I imagined Adam Belcoure, the Goodman’s casting director, would say when the romantic leads in Stage Kiss, Jenny Bacon and Mark Montgomery, met in the audition room. Turns out, they had barely spoken prior to the Chicago magazine photo shoot for Stage Kiss they did shortly before rehearsals began.

Jenny and Mark are clearly comfortable with one another and feel at ease. Any sort of awkwardness feels like playful innocence. So how does Mr. Belcoure do it? How can you predict chemistry between two individuals before they’ve ever met?

“I can’t claim I have a gift,” Adam modestly tells me, saying that when they are looking for actors with chemistry, they search for someone with “presence, something that’s exciting to watch.” For Stage Kiss, Adam said they knew the leads needed to be “steamy” and “have some sizzle; they needed to have romantic chemistry and sexuality.” But, bear in mind, “we don’t pair people up.” When asked why not, Adam conveyed that people communicate sensuality and when casting two of these people, “we hope they have it together.”

The truth is, us as audience members dictate casting far more than we realize. “Audiences want to see certain people together,” said Adam. “We want to see attractiveness, but the criteria for sexiness on stage and on film are different.” The actor John O. Roberts has joked that when cast for stage, he’s the sexy lead, but when cast for film, he’s “the robber or the homeless man.” We, as audiences, demand strong jaw lines and flawless features of individuals like George Clooney and Brad Pitt (which is probably why so many female actresses resort to plastic surgery as they age). But for the stage, Adam tells me actors’ sexiness “lives in [their] body and voice versus looks.”

As a former actor, Adam has an insider’s perspective.“Loving actors and what they do keeps me interested, and as a casting director, I get to see performances that no one else gets to see.” By keeping a comfortable atmosphere and a friendly demeanor, Adam creates an audition room that can lead to the easy, sensual performances necessary for Stage Kiss.

Photos: Mark L. Montgomery and Jenny Bacon in Stage Kiss. Photos by Liz Lauren.

Scene and Heard

2011-05-03T13:54:00.005-05:00

While we perfect our pucker for the next few weeks of frequent kissing, check out these artsy links from the interweb:

The process of writing and rewriting a play before it ever hits the stage can be long and arduous. What about rewriting a play that itself is rewritten from a film?

Once you get tickets, you’re set to see a show, right? Not always, as some unfortunate fans in New York discovered last week.

Edward Albee on Elizabeth Taylor, crafting dialogue and a surprising source of inspiration.

One-time Spider Man: Turn Off the Dark director Julie Taymor reflects on success and failure.

A new “radical” theater festival sprouts in Northern England.

The New York Times goes inside Norman Mailer's "nautical adventureland."

The Tony, Drama League and Outer Critics Circle award nominations have been announced!

Above: Jenny Bacon and Mark L. Montgomery in Stage Kiss. Photo by Liz Lauren.

Goodman Youth Arts Council and God of Carnage!

2011-04-28T10:09:00.004-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Associate

The Goodman Youth Arts Council (GYAC), our newest program for teens, has been in high gear this spring! GYAC members serve as the Goodman’s teenage ambassadors. Donating their time, work and brain power, GYAC members not only aid the Goodman with special events, but strive to create theatergoers among others their age. Whether it is through their mission statement, videos or outreach work, they find innovative ways to seek out new teens who have not experienced live theater, and spread the message that theater deserves the attention we already give to movies, TV, video games and popular music!

As we closed God of Carnage earlier this month, the council saw a great opportunity to bring in other teens from their schools. Their goal was to bring teens they didn’t know, and teens that weren’t already involved in drama at school. In conjunction with our 10Tix program, the council offered fellow students tickets at a discounted rate, and on Saturday, nearly 50 fresh faces rolled into Goodman to see God of Carnage. Many from this group had never seen a live theater performance in their life!

To welcome these newcomers, the council threw an after party. They arranged a prize raffle, and one lucky student won the opportunity to see Matthew Morrison perform live at the Goodman Gala in May! If that weren’t enough, the newcomers were welcomed by God of Carnage stars Keith Kupferer and Mary Beth Fisher themselves, who talked about the behind-the-scenes action on God of Carnage as well as their careers and lives; they even stayed to draw the raffle prizes and award winners!

All in all, GYAC throws a pretty great party.

Top: GYAC members (l to r) Brandon Rivera, Vicky Giannini and Lauren Escobar. Bottom: God of Carnage stars Keith Kupferer and Mary Beth Fisher and the GYAC. Photos by Teresa Rende.

New and Familiar Faces

2011-04-27T11:09:00.007-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

Sarah Ruhl’s new play, Stage Kiss, is in tech rehearsals right now and will begin previews this Saturday. This world premiere brought a batch of brilliant new faces to the Goodman along with it—among them two hilarious young actors, Jeffrey Carlson and Sarah Tolan-Mee, who are both making their Goodman debuts in the comedy.

But if you are a long-time Goodman patron—or even if you’ve joined us every once in awhile— it’s likely that you’ve seen some familiar faces grace our stages over the years. Brian Dennehy, Mary Beth Fisher and Karen Aldridge, among others, make frequent appearances on our stages. Among the Stage Kiss cast, audiences may remember Erica Elam from her appearance in The Trip to Bountiful in the Horton Foote Festival; Ross Lehman from Waiting for Godot, Wings and The Rover (among others); Mark L. Montgomery from A Christmas Carol; Scott Jaeck from this season’s The Seagull and Mary; and Jenny Bacon—who returns to Goodman Theatre as “She” (the actress with no name) in Stage Kiss.

Behind the somewhat anonymous character that Ms. Bacon plays in Stage Kiss is an actress who has made frequent appearances on Goodman stages over the years. Among them are performances in Eugene O’Neill’s A Touch of the Poet (1995/1996) with Brian Dennehy (directed by Robert Falls) and Anton Chekhov’s Three Sisters (1994/1995; pictured above), also directed by Falls. She was also in Paula Vogel’s The Baltimore Waltz (1992/1993) for which she received a Jeff Award nomination for Best Actress in a Principal Role in a Play.

Here’s an article from a 2000 edition of the Chicago Reader in which Ms. Bacon talks about her journey from wallflower to leading lady.

Top: Jeffrey Carlson and Sarah Tolan-Mee in rehearsal for Stage Kiss. Photo by Liz Lauren. Middle: Jenny Bacon and Mark L. Montgomery in Stage Kiss rehearsal. Photo by Liz Lauren. Bottom: pictured in Robert Falls' 1995 production of Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov are Susan Bruce (Olga), Jenny Bacon (Masha) and Calista Flockhart (Irina). Photo by Eric Y. Exit.

Planting the Nogalar in the Owen Stage

2011-04-22T15:15:00.012-05:00

By Erin C. Gaynor, Development Intern

Upon entering the Owen Theatre to see El Nogalar, the most striking feature on the set are the trees. Long and lean (and maybe a little gangly), these trees are beautiful and real.

As readers of my previous post about clafouti know, my favorite part of theater is how so many aspects of it are imitated to fit the stage. When I found out all of the trees on stage for El Nogalar were actual trees, I talked with Assistant Production Manager, Matt Chandler, to find out how the El Nogalar trees came to live in the Goodman.

According to Matt, a friend of Director Cecilie Keenan’s brother knew of a gentleman in Frankfort, Illinois, who was looking to clear some trees off of his property. A few members of the properties team went down to Frankfort to help the gentleman clear the trees and put them on a flatbed truck. The trees were then brought to the Goodman’s scene shop.

The trees on stage are anchored similar to how Christmas trees are every year, but on a much larger scale. Specially cut holes were carved into the deck of the Owen stage. The trees were then placed in those holes, putting the trunks four feet under the stage. Similar to a Christmas tree, the El Nogalar trees are slowly dying (a far more depressing outlook than most of us take around the holidays); their branches have “begun to droop and we are constantly trimming them during the run,” Matt told me.

So why use real trees? Primarily cost. “It’s far easier to cut down a tree versus build, carve and paint a fake tree—the time, labor and materials add up,” said Matt. The last production to use real trees was Ruined, which had palm trees shipped from Florida.

When looking to use real versus false trees, structure and use on stage typically dictates which will be picked. For instance, the tree in The Trinity River Plays needed to be fake due to Iris (Karen Aldridge) and Rose (Penny Johnson Jerald) sitting and interacting with the tree. Real trees begin to decompose after a while and would have been dangerous for the actors.

The El Nogalar set, designed by Brian Sidney Bembridge, is gorgeous.I appreciate that real trees are on stage. For me, the trees limbo between life and death, present yet decomposing, is reminiscent of the memory Maité clings to of the pecan ochard. If you haven’t yet, go see El Nogalar before it closes on Sunday—both the set and the acting are beautiful.

Top: Yunuen Pardo and Carlo Lorenzo Garcia in El Nogalar; photo by Brian Sidney Bembridge. Middle: The set of El Nogalar; photo by Brian Sidney Bembridge. Bottom: Penny Johnson Jerald in The Trinity River Plays; photo by Brandon Thibodeaux.

Reel vs. Real: Iconic Kisses on the Silver Screen

2011-04-19T12:46:00.009-05:00

Stage Kiss is in full-on rehearsal mode, and the dialogue around the Goodman’s administrative offices (and in rehearsal, and in photo shoots) these last few weeks has become increasingly kiss-oriented. In the current issue of OnStage, Associate Producer Steve Scott explores some of the most legendary kisses of the silver screen; you can read the full text of his article here; then, if we forgot your favorite film kiss, let us know in the comments!

By Steve Scott
Whether it signifies the beginning of a romance, the consummation of an illicit affair or a death sentence pronounced by a Mafia Don, the kiss is one of the most common and most intimate human interactions found in popular entertainment, providing audiences with some of their favorite memories—and sometimes, as in Sarah Ruhl’s play Stage Kiss, leading to unanticipated results off camera as well. Here is a look back at some of the most memorable stage and screen kisses of the recent past.

THE SCANDALOUS KISS:
The Kiss (1896)
The first kiss recorded on film originated on the Broadway stage in a musical comedy entitled The Widow Jones. In the second act of the play, the show’s stars, May Irwin and John C. Rice, engaged in a lingering smooch that caught the attention of Thomas Edison’s company, which had recently purchased the rights to a motion picture projector known as the Vitaphone. To showcase his new product, Edison filmed Irwin and Rice’s kiss in his New Jersey studio. Although it lasted a scant 20 seconds, the sequence (above) caused an immediate sensation, with critics and civic leaders expressing outrage. Critic Herbert Stone wrote, “Neither participant is physically attractive and the spectacle of their prolonged pasturing on each other’s lips was hard to beat when only life size. Magnified to gargantuan proportions…it is absolutely disgusting!” Perhaps inevitably, The Kiss became the Edison Company’s most popular release of the year.

THE ICONIC KISS:
From Here to Eternity (1953)
The adulterous affair between an army sergeant and a captain’s wife culminated in perhaps the best-known screen kiss of all time: Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr locked in a fervent seaside embrace with the ocean’s waves washing over them (above). Although torturous to film, the scene was one of the most erotically charged couplings yet seen in an American film, and helped make the movie one of the blockbusters of its time. It also may have led to an offscreen romance between the two stars: although Kerr denied the rumors, Lancaster eventually confirmed the affair.

[Continued here.]

Clafouti and Carnage

2011-04-15T12:17:00.006-05:00

By Erin C. Gaynor, Development Intern

When I think of theater, I think of its innate “whiz-bang” properties. It’s an art form that has subsisted on making the most with the least amount of money. At least in the not-for-profit world, but we won’t dwell on certain productions of certain superheroes that may or may not be the laughing-stock of Broadway. So when I found out that the clafouti that appears on the Goodman stage in God of Carnage wasn’t gelatin and some food coloring but the actual French dish, I had to investigate.

First of all, Goodman Theatre not only houses two amazing performance spaces, but also has a working kitchen. According to Stephen Kolack, the properties head at the Goodman, real food made in the Goodman kitchen is prepared all the time. In the 2010/2011 Season alone, both The Trinity River Plays and God of Carnage had real food onstage, including pie dough, pie filling, a decorated birthday cake, and of course, clafouti.

It should be known that the Goodman kitchen is not elaborate. It’s tucked into a corner of the props room, like a corner of a classroom that accidentally has an oven in it. Upon entering the props room, there are containers full of fresh tulips (if you’ve seen the show, you know their fate). Stephen, the preparer of all this food, does not believe himself to be a cook. I disagree—as I watched him make the clafouti, he made it with such swift ease, it was like watching a chef on television.

Clafouti is a bit on an unusual dish. It’s made with eggs, flour, vanilla and fruit. It tastes like a custard and can be served warm from the oven or at room temperature. Michael and Veronica discuss the odd qualities of clafouti in God of Carnage:

MICHAEL

So, clafouti, is it a cake or a tart? Serious question. I was just thinking in the kitchen, Linzertorte, for example, is that a tart? Come on, come on, you can’t leave that one little slice.

VERONICA

Clafouti is a cake. The pastry’s not rolled out, it’s mixed in with the fruit.

ALAN

You really are a cook.

VERONICA

I love it. The thing about cooking is you have to love it. In my opinion, it’s only the classic tart, that’s to say on a pastry base, that deserves to be called a tart.

As an avid baker, I was the only person who busted out laughing in the entire theater after this line. Stephen told me the actors in God of Carnage have been great about eating the clafouti every night, especially since the clafouti served onstage is adapted to fit their dietary needs. Here is the recipe for Goodman Theatre’s God of Carnage clafouti:

Clafouti
Serves 4, lasts 3 performances

One 9” – 10” ceramic tart pan
3/4 cup egg whites, from approx. 5 – 6 eggs
1 cup flour
½ cup sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 ½ cup soy milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
(Note: the mechanism used to do all three of these tasks at once—an early version of which is pictured below—is Stephen’s favorite part of making the dish. Also, the God of Carnage script calls for a clafouti with apples and pears and gingerbread crumbs. Just the apples and cinnamon do the visual trick. Remember the “whiz-bang?”)

1)Preheat the oven at 350 degrees fahrenheit.
2)Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and cinnamon in a medium-sized bowl. Set aside.
3)Whisk together the egg whites, soy milk, and vanilla in a large-sized bowl. Add the dry ingredients and whisk until just combined.
4)Quickly spray the tart pan with a non-stick spray. Lay in half the apple slices in the pan, then pour half the egg mixture.
5)Place the tart pan in the oven and bake for 15 minutes. The apples should have risen to the top of the egg mixture. Pour the remainder of the egg mixture on top of the partially baked mixture, then layer the remaining apple slices. Bake for approximately 30 – 40 minutes, until the clafouti has risen and bounces back when pushed gently.
6)Let cool slightly. Serve with coffee and be forewarned: a heated discussion may ensue.

Stephen is an incredibly nice and kind individual and I was impressed by his knowledge of clafouti prior to our meeting. Since Stephen is a little camera-shy, the above photo is a picture of clafouti that I made, with blueberries and raspberries.

Top: My clafouti; photo by me. Above: An apple peeler similar to Stephen's. Photo by David Carroll.

Adapting to Adaptation

2011-04-14T15:29:00.011-05:00

By Clayton Smith, Audience Development Coordinator

By now, the dutiful Goodman blog reader is undoubtedly aware that El Nogalar, the play currently running in our Owen Theatre, is an adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard. The art of adaptation is certainly nothing new. Everywhere we look there are movies based on books, plays based on movies and movies based on musicals.

Broadway, of course, is no stranger to the art of adaptation. One of the most famous Broadway adaptations is West Side Story, the Leonard Bernstein musical famously based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. But did you know that these smash hits are also adaptations?

Cats: Here’s one you don’t hear every day—a Broadway musical based on classic American poetry. Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats is adapted from Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, a book of poems by T. S. Eliot, one of the most important English-language poets of the twentieth century. One of the musical’s characters, Jellylorum, is even named after T. S. Eliot’s own cat.

Miss Saigon: This war-time tale of woe is based on the great Puccini opera Madama Butterfly, which was itself based on the short story “Madame Butterfly,” written by John Luther Long in 1898. That means Miss Saigon is an adaptation of an adaptation. Did that just blow your mind? Fun Fact: Puccini’s Madama Butterfly was also the inspiration for the play M. Butterfly, written by David Henry Hwang, whose world premiere production of Chinglish opens at the Goodman this summer!

Cabaret: This Kander and Ebb success, which takes place in Nazi Germany, is another mind-bending adaptation of an adaptation. The musical is based on the 1951 play I Am a Camera by John Van Druten, who based his script on the novel Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher Isherwood. Fun Fact #2: Isherwood also wrote the novel A Single Man, which was adapted into an Academy Award-nominated film starring Colin Firth in 2009.

La Cage aux Folles: This long-running Broadway hit by Harvey Fierstein and Jerry Herman is based on a 1973 French play (in case the name didn’t give away its origins) by Jean Poiret. For the less Broadway-savvy out there who may not recognize the title La Cage aux Folles, you might be more familiar with the movie The Birdcage, starring Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, which is based on the same original Poiret play.

Romeo and Juliet: If you haven’t taken the time to “Brush up Your Shakespeare,” you may not be aware of the fact that “Shakespeare basically stole everything he ever wrote” (potential Fun Fact #3: name that play). The great, tragic Romeo and Juliet is no exception. The Bard based this play off of Ovid’s Pyramus and Thisbe, a tale of ill-fated lovers that stems from Roman mythology.

Top: T.S. Eliot, the original inspiration behind Cats? Illustration by Simon Fieldhouse. Above: Romeo and Juliet; engraving by James Heath, painting by James Northcote.

Compelling Chekhov

2011-04-11T16:36:00.008-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

In our current edition of OnStage, playwright Tanya Saracho talks about her personal connection to the work of Anton Chekhov and how she came to reconceive The Cherry Orchard as El Nogalar.

Many other artists at the Goodman seem to have found this masterwork quite compelling—we’ve produced The Cherry Orchard four times in our history (during the 1956/1957, 1970/1971, 1974/1975 and 1984/1985 seasons). That doesn’t include Regina Taylor’s adaption Magnolia (2009), which set Chekhov’s tale in Atlanta, Georgia, amidst the civil rights movement of the 1960s.

Some theatergoers might remember our 1985 production of The Cherry Orchard—several of the artists involved with the show are now theatrical and film powerhouses. The production, which was adapted by David Mamet (whose work will return to the Goodman stage next January with Race), featured William H. Macy, beloved Chicago icon Mike Nussbaum and Peter Riegert (aka “Boon” from Animal House)!

Above: Pictured (l to r) in the Goodman's 1985 production of Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard, adapted by David Mamet, are Peter Riegert, Lindsay Crouse and Colin Stinton. Photo by Brigitte Lacombe.

Scene and Heard

2011-04-11T13:41:00.005-05:00

As we frantically inhale our last few gulps of clafouti, here are some tasty theater links we've harvested from around the world wide web for your consumption:

Remember the Belarus Free Theatre? They’re still traveling around (current stop: England), and they’re busier than ever! Co-founder Natalia Kaliada recounts the journey that led her and the company to their current state of exile—and eventually sparked a fortuitous partnership with Kevin Spacey.

In the spirit of “making theater work despite external forces,” the Sudanese are experiencing a revival of theater after years of violence and economic troubles. Hooray!

Across the pond, some British actors are feeling a bit less holly-jolly about their government. Last week the government cut the funding for 200 arts organizations in London and the surrounding area. Never fear, Sir Patrick Stewart is here!

Up north, Montreal's Le Théâtre du Nouveau Monde is raising eyebrows with a controversial casting decision.

And back home, Seattle’s A Contemporary Theatre takes a new approach to subscription sales.

Of Cocktails and Chestnuts

2011-04-07T10:39:00.010-05:00

By Neena Arndt, Literary Associate

In Stage Kiss (which starts April 30 in the Albert), modern-day actors are cast in a 1930s play, and we see them rehearse and perform sections of this delectably dated comedy. The play-within-the-play does not actually date from the era; Sarah Ruhl concocted it after reading several 1930s comedies. Sarah’s dialogue exaggerates the overwrought style that was typical of 1930s plays, and the setting and characters resemble those from the era: the play takes place in the home of a wealthy family who employ a butler and a maid, consume cocktails in their solarium, and engage in an endless stream of melodramatic banter.

Unlike most regional theaters, which were founded in the 1960s or later, the Goodman dates back to 1925. The theater’s early programming resembled today’s programming: it was a mixture of classics and contemporary plays. Some of the contemporary plays were hits from around the country, and some were world premieres penned by early Goodman artists. Throughout the 1930s, the Goodman produced works which resemble the plays that Sarah Ruhl now parodies—light, melodramatic comedies. Although the Goodman does not have archived scripts from the 1930s, we do have production photos, which provide us with some information about what actors and audiences might have experienced at the Goodman eight decades ago. The sets, costumes, and acting style evident in the photos make it clear that a night at the Goodman in the 1930s bears only a slight resemblance to a night at the Goodman today. The titles of the plays alone conjure up potent images. A few choice examples: Paris Bound, The Romantic Young Lady, For Services Rendered, The First Mrs. Fraser, Mr. Pim Passes By (penned by none other than A.A. Milne, creator of Winnie the Pooh) and Let Us Be Gay.

Top: Let Us Be Gay (1934)
Middle: For Services Rendered (1934)
Bottom: The First Mrs. Fraser (1935)

El Nogalar in Context: The Rise of Cartels in Mexico

2011-04-05T17:03:00.008-05:00

By Allie Wigley, Marketing Intern

El Nogalar, which officially opened last night, follows the reunion of the Galvan family in northern Mexico after a years-long separation during which two family members lived in the United States. When they come home (in 2011), they find that the Mexico they return to is not the Mexico they left. During the past five years, various factions of drug cartels have been occupying and controlling Mexican cities, primarily in northern states along the US border.

In the 1980s the illegal drug trade in Mexico was controlled by Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo, a former Mexican Judicial Federal Police agent dubbed “The Godfather.” Under his leadership drugs were transferred through Mexico and into the United States, and his drug empire grew so rapidly that he divided it between various lesser-known drug lords in order to avoid being caught by law enforcement. But Gallardo was eventually arrested, in 1989, and after his capture territory conflicts arose between the drug lords and their cartels. The conflicts quickly turned violent and each cartel claimed as much land as possible, resulting in the formation of seven major cartels: the Tijuana Cartel, the Juárez Cartel, the Gulf Cartel, the Sinaloa Cartel (a.k.a. the Pacific Cartel), the Colima Cartel, the Oaxaca Cartel and the Milenio Cartel. The first three took control of northern Mexico along the US border, the area in which the action of El Nogalar occurs. The cartels grew in scope and power in the 1990s, and primarily moved the drugs from Mexico, other Latin American countries and South American countries across the border. The cartels largely continue not to produce the drugs themselves, but control the shipping and, more recently, the sales distribution of primarily marijuana, cocaine and meth.

In 2006, President Felipe Calderon called in the Mexican army to crack down on the drug trafficking. It was obvious by 2006 that the cartels needed to by dealt with, and Calderon felt the police were too corrupt to deal with the issue effectively (and, truthfully, many police officers were being paid by the cartels for their protection). Currently there are more than 50,000 troops and federal police actively fighting against the cartels, confiscating drugs and jailing (or killing) many of the known leaders. But people continue to debate whether things have gotten better with the introduction of the army; the cartels expanded from moving drugs across the border to selling drugs in their own communities, and as a result cocaine use has doubled in Mexico in recent years. The cartels are responding to the troops by escalating their increasingly horrific methods of violence, since they are now not only fighting rival cartels but the army as well. Over 35,000 people have been killed in the violence between December 2006 and February 2011. Of these, over 15,000 killings occurred in 2010 alone and over half of those were in the northern Mexican states. Northern communities that were once safe and home to upper- and upper-middle-class families like Saracho’s fictional Galvan family are becoming hubs near the border for trafficking. El Nogalar picks up at this point, after the community has accepted the existence of the cartels as beyond their control. The Galvans must come to terms with the new Mexico occupied by the cartels, the violence and the disintegration of the community they used to know.

Top: Carlo Lorenzo Garcia in El Nogalar
Above: Sandra Delgado and Christina Nieves in El Nogalar

With the Click of a Mouse

2011-03-31T17:24:00.002-05:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Assistant

As the internet continues to expand in new, innovative ways, we find ourselves faced with more opportunities for knowledge than time wasting. While I have enjoyed my fair share of hilarious videos involving cats, I am less drawn to internet time wasters as the ways we can learn on the web become more exciting. As a theater artist, I am always intrigued when another arts institution finds a way to connect me with their work via the tubes. And as educational and arts based resources available grows, I find myself with less time to Google “funny cat videos,” and instead a far greater knowledge of theater, visual art and music.

One of these amazing recent innovations is Google’s Art Project. Google Art Project allows you to virtually visit art museums around the globe. Seventeen partner museums are currently enrolled in the project, offering high quality images of the art online alongside the categorical information for each piece. Visitors can peruse collections by selecting the artwork, or by navigating through the museum using Google’s street view technology. You can even make your own collection to share with friends and family. Associated content and YouTube videos about the work or artist are offered as you explore online. While we cannot all visit the Netherlands or Germany on a regular basis to see these great works in person, Google Art Project brings us closer to that experience.

Right here in Chicago, our own Art Institute steps up to the plate with their “Impressionism App.” For only $3.99 you can put the Institute’s catalog of Impressionist work on your iPhone or Android device ($5.99 for your iPad). As they describe it on their website, “Based on the scholarly catalog The Age of French Impressionism by curators Douglas Druick and Gloria Groom, this searchable digital version offers detailed information and zoomable illustrations of over 100 works of art, artist biographies, panoramic views of the Impressionist galleries, and a history of Impressionism and Chicago.”

Apps and online museum viewing are only a couple ways in which arts organizations can reach the public. Increasingly, arts organizations have pages on Facebook, accounts on Twitter, photos on Flickr, or even blogs (like the one you’re reading right now). If you didn’t know, Goodman offers access to theater educational materials and behind-the-scenes videos online, while also communicating with patrons new and old via Twitter and Facebook.

Do you know of any amazing arts organizations online? Or have any great ideas for new and intriguing resources on the Goodman’s site?

Elizabeth Taylor and Goodman Theatre—An Unusual Connection

2011-03-29T13:08:00.007-05:00

By Jenny Seidelman, Campaign Manager

Like many people, I was sad to hear about the recent passing of Academy Award winner Elizabeth Taylor. Sultry, stunning, compassionate and outrageous, there will never be another like her.

Although she was a lady of the world—having lived in London, Los Angeles and Washington DC, among other places—Taylor had an unusual connection to Chicago and the Goodman Theatre.

Taylor’s third husband, Michael Todd was a theater and film producer and an impresario. In the 1950s, Todd purchased the shuttered Harris and Selwyn theaters at Dearborn and Randolph Street. In their heydays, the Harris and the Selwyn had featured live theater with stars such as Ethel Barrymore and Mae West.

Todd converted the theaters into movie houses. The Selwyn re-opened as the Cinestage in 1957 with the premiere of Todd’s film Around the World in 80 Days, and the Harris as the Michael Todd the day after Christmas, 1958.

With Todd’s unexpected death in 1958 and the decline of the Loop in the following decades, the theaters fell into serious disrepair.

When Goodman Theatre began to look for a new home in the late 1980’s, Elizabeth Taylor—who as Todd’s widow still owned the theaters—became a key player in securing the Selwyn and the Harris.

“Through an arrangement with the city, the buildings were donated so that it could become the new home of the Goodman Theatre,” said Roche Schulfer, the Goodman's executive director.

Chicago Now has a wonderful photo-retrospective chronicling Elizabeth Taylor’s connection to Chicago. Keep an eye out for pictures of the Selwyn and Harris in their pre-Goodman days!

And for more on Taylor’s connection to Chicago, check out these videos by CBS Channel 2.

Left: The Goodman Theatre today—the north end of the building features the original Selwyn and Harris theater facades; Photo by Jeff Goldberg

Coming Soon

2011-03-25T15:00:00.004-05:00

By Lesley Gibson, Publications Coordinator

This weekend El Nogalar starts previews at the Goodman. There has been a lot of exciting buzz around this play—partially because it’s a brand new work from the brilliant Tanya Saracho; partially because it’s an adaptation of a classic Russian play (Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard) set in contemporary Mexico; and partially because it marks the beginning of a three-year producing partnership between the Goodman and Teatro Vista. Also, aside from all that, it seems like it’s going to be pretty awesome. I personally haven’t seen any rehearsals, but I have interviewed the cast and creative team and read the script several times. The play’s stage directions alone provide an intriguing glimpse of Saracho’s charm as a playwright: “Valeria’s been trying to make cabrito, she’s a little sweaty, wearing an apron. Trying not to be a hot mess.”

This week, in preparation for the first preview on Saturday, the cast and crew have been powering through tech rehearsals—long, slow-moving days in the theater in which the playwright, director, cast and creative team tweak the technical aspects of the production so that every cue goes off just right in performance. For a sneak-peek at this exciting new work, hop over to our El Nogalar page and explore the play from behind the scenes.

Above: Photo of Carlo Lorenzo Garcia and Bert Matias by Eric Y. Exit.

Clafouti for Americans

2011-03-22T15:44:00.006-05:00

By Clayton Smith, Audience Development Coordinator

If you’ve seen God of Carnage, it’s safe to say you now have a rather in-depth (and possibly nausea-inducing) understanding of clafouti (above); what it is, how it’s made, whether or not it should be refrigerated, and so on.

Clafouti sounds like a delicious dessert, especially with Veronica’s gingerbread twist. According to Neena Arndt, the Goodman’s literary associate (and dramaturg for God of Carnage), clafouti is a traditional French dessert of the peasants. Think of it as the ratatouille of the pastry world, or, to get more to the point, the French version of American pie. It’s cheap and, I believe, fairly simple to make, which means it’s anything but a treat reserved for society’s upper crust.

God of Carnage was originally written by Yasmina Reza in French and set in Paris; when it was staged on London’s West End, Reza and her long-time translator Christopher Hampton collaborated on an English translation. And when God of Carnage finally made its Broadway debut in 2009, Reza and Hampton tweaked the script again to create a more Americanized translation. The choice of clafouti in the original French text insinuates some remarkable things about these characters. In God of Carnage, Veronica’s clafouti recipe comes from Michael’s mother. Because clafouti is a classic peasant dish, the idea Yasmina Reza is probably trying to convey is that Michael comes from a lower class, which certainly explains his eventual proclamation that he is “a [expletive] Neanderthal.” The use of this dish also gives us some insight into his wife, Veronica. She has taken the original, simple pear-only recipe and enhanced it by mixing apples and pears and giving it a gingerbread base, much the same way that she’s taken Michael, a simple man, and enhanced him by making him act like a sophisticated, liberal socialite.

Above: Veronica (Mary Beth Fisher) and Michael (Keith Kupferer) chowing on clafouti.

In this translated version, though, the presence of clafouti means something else entirely for Michael and Veronica. Based on its name and the fact that it’s not a particularly widely known dish in America, Americans are likely to view clafouti as an exotic, decadent French dessert. To American audiences, it gives the characters an air of sophistication and affluence without the subtext of Michael’s simple beginnings and Veronica’s desperate need to put a varnish on them. A more obvious American equivalent, I think, would have been a pie. Perhaps if Reza were an American writer (or Hampton, who is British, were an American translator) Veronica could have served Michael’s mother’s old fashioned apple pie, updated with pear slices, a thick gingerbread crust, and maybe a cinnamon-vanilla drizzle glaze, and the point would have been made in a more direct manner.

The translation of a work from one language to another is a tricky process. What strange script or story translations have you seen on the stage that have made you tilt your head and say, “Hmm?”

Clafouti mage by www.WorthTheWhisk.com [CC-BY-2.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
God of Carnage production image by Eric Y. Exit

Comedy and Carnage

2011-03-17T15:27:00.006-05:00

By Liz Dengel, Literary Intern

God of Carnage struck me very differently onstage than it did on paper. When I first read the play, alone at my desk one winter evening, I wasn’t laughing. Instead, I was more than a little disturbed by the characters’ deep unhappiness, their vicious behavior and their ruthless philosophy. But at Monday’s opening night performance, my date and I laughed heartily—along with the rest of the audience. All that pain, anxiety and rage somehow fuels an uproarious evening at Goodman Theatre.

I’ve read that playwright Yasmina Reza has mixed feelings about the laughter that her plays elicit from English-speaking audiences. She told an interviewer from the Guardian, “The way people laugh changes the way you see a play. A very profound play may seem very light. My plays have always been described as comedy but I think they're tragedy. They are funny tragedy, but they are tragedy. Maybe it's a new genre."

When it comes to assigning God of Carnage a genre, the Chicago reviews don’t present a consensus either. The labels they assign run the gamut from “as commercial a comedy as you can imagine” to a “little drama” to a “comedy of ill manners.” One reviewer noted, “Rick Snyder’s crisp direction keeps the audience from wondering what’s so funny about such profound sadness until long after the curtain falls.”

How do we respond to work that doesn’t adhere to a familiar category? And why is this painful text such a comic success?

The Beginning of a Beautiful Producing Partnership

2011-03-15T15:34:00.007-05:00

By Jeffrey Fauver, Publicity Manager

Yesterday I saw a run-through of Tanya Saracho’s El Nogalar in the Goodman’s Polk Rehearsal Room—the company’s last run-through before they move into the Owen with the set next week. No “spoiler alerts” here; all I’ll say is that it continues to amaze me what a group of actors and a director are capable of in just two weeks of rehearsal. Especially with a new play! Tanya has been so active in the process writing, rewriting, dewriting (or is it unwriting?) and keeping all of her friends, family and fans up-to-date on the whole process on Facebook and Twitter. I can only imagine the amount of work the company is putting in outside of rehearsal just to keep up.

Above: Charin Alvarez and Sandra Delgado in rehearsal for El Nogalar. Below: Henry Godinez and Sona Tatoyan in Jose Rivéra's Massacre (Sing to Your Children), a co-production between the Goodman and Teatro Vista.

What a way to kick off the Goodman’s new three-year producing partnership with Teatro Vista!

El Nogalar marks the fourth joint production between the Goodman and Teatro Vista (TV). The relationship began in 1995 at the old Goodman when co-founding member of TV Henry Godinez—prior to his appointment as resident artistic associate at the Goodman—proposed a co-production between the companies: Cloud Tectonics by José Rivera. Sixteen years, three productions and five biennial Latino Theatre Festivals later, both companies have decided to take the plunge and commit to a three-year collaboration dedicated to new work by Latino writers. The first? Tanya Saracho. The second and third? Who knows.

A commitment to new work is not an easy one to make, let alone a three-year co-commitment between two companies to as-yet-to-be-determined playwrights and plays. It’s risky. But it’s a risk Chicago audiences insist we make. And I for one couldn’t be more excited.

Performances of El Nogalar begin Saturday, March 26.

Monday Night at the Theatre

2011-03-14T13:54:00.000-05:00

God of Carnage officially opens tonight, following nine exciting preview performances. If you haven’t yet had a chance, hop over to our God of Carnage show page and explore our behind-the-scenes videos, images, and in-depth articles.

Scene and Heard

2011-03-11T14:13:00.000-06:00

Happy Friday! If you're not too busy taking in a performance of God of Carnage (or blow-drying art books) this weekend, spend some time exploring the world's wide web of theater links:

The Goodman’s god of Carnage: director Rick Snyder sits down with the Sun-Times’ Hedy Weiss.

Chinglish Playwright David Henry Hwang on success, failure, inspiration and snowball-wielding child theater fans.

Our friends, the Belarus Free Theatre, return to the states (once they’re done being Harold Pinter in Hong Kong) for a five-week engagement in New York.

Now that he’s given up tweeting, Mayor-elect Emanuel looks to the future of the arts in Chicago.

Philly.com solves an age-old theater mystery.

Leading a Lively Post-Show Discussion

2011-03-10T11:19:00.000-06:00

By Teresa Rende, Education and Community Engagement Assistant

I’ve led and attended a number of post-show discussions in my life, but none have been as intriguing as those for Mary. While I always appreciate the questions and comments our audience has for our artists and staff at post-show discussions, Mary has created a dialogue among audience members like none I've ever seen before. Folks raised their hand to share a thought or question a choice made in the play, and suddenly their fellow audience members would raise a hand—not to ask the next question, but to respond to the one previously offered, which was fantastic for me, because as a moderator my job is to facilitate an interesting and important conversation among engaged audience members.

Mary, however, can be jarring in a way that discussion does not necessarily resolve. Last week, I moderated a discussion in which three audience members had an issue with the ending that led to a debate that was simultaneously intellectual, social and emotional. The argument was that the character Mary may be misinterpreted by some viewers as speaking for all black, Christian women, simply because she is a black woman on a stage. As a room, we agreed that everyone is entitled to their own opinion even if we don’t like it (including the character Mary) and that Mary didn’t serve as a symbol for all black, Christian women. But in a climate where minorities in the media are constantly viewed as representing their people, the question arose, “Is showcasing such a character a risk?” The people who stayed to discuss knew Mary was simply one character; but might someone walk out of the theater with an altered view of the black church, black women, Christians or theology majors? The discussion grew heated as people questioned what it meant simply to have Mary on the stage.

Playwright Thomas Bradshaw mentioned during another post-show discussion earlier in the run that we don’t live life in ideals and singularities. An audience member at that post-show felt that putting all of the various “big issues” Mary touches upon in one play trivialized them. Thomas explained that in the real world, we don’t have the option of tackling one issue at a time. One play about gay rights and one play about racism in the post-civil-rights-era might be easier to digest, but the idea that, “today I am a female, tomorrow I am a lesbian, and Wednesday I am black,” isn’t an option. We live our labels, whatever they may be, simultaneously. And Mary, as a post-slavery-era slave, also wore her hat as an anti-gay activist and a devout Christian scholar.

I led the final post show for Mary last Friday, and an audience member asked me to list one thing I’d take away from the experience of having Mary on stage and moderating discussions. I told her that Mary has helped me appreciate art for what it is. Art is frequently loaded with an agenda, and while Mary brings up a number of important social topics, it doesn’t force a perspective of “right” or “wrong.” Instead, it questions our biases and forces us to face the fact that good people sometimes have opinions that we simply don’t agree with. “Dissent is not necessarily malicious,” as one very astute audience member put it. To understand Mary, I had to step away from the politics inherent in controversial topics, and instead let the story wash over me for 90 minutes. It has been such a gift to appreciate a work of art in this way, and share these amazing discussions with our audiences.

Blazin’ Hot Season

2011-02-09T15:12:00.000-06:00

Earlier this week—this frigid, sub-zero week—we announced our “red hot” 2011/2012 Season: a mix of big Broadway hits (Red and Race), old and new classics (Camino Real and Crowns), and brand new work (The Convert). Head over to our website and explore our 2011/12 line up, warm up against it—then sound off in the comments on our selections.

Censorship, Controversy, and the Role of Art

2011-02-03T16:54:00.001-06:00

By Willa Taylor, Director of Education and Community Engagement.

The Goodman recently hosted Belarus Free Theatre, a company of artists who at the moment cannot return to their country because the repressive regime in the former Soviet republic does not like what these artists’ works say about repressive regimes. Government agents have gone to the artists’ homes, interrogated their relatives, jailed some of their colleagues. A few weeks ago, before they started their current tour with an appearance at the Public Theatre’s Under The Radar Festival, the husband-and-wife leaders of Belarus Free Theater were arrested and roughed up during demonstrations against the government; Natalia was threatened with rape by the police.

That we hosted them is wonderful. That this theater would move quickly to give artistic refuge is one of the reasons why I am proud to work at the Goodman.

Freedom of speech is a basic tenet of our society. Freedom of expression is the right of every American and the mandate for every artist. But in this increasingly polarized society, is freedom of expression possible? When Mark Twain’s Huck Finn can be rewritten to make it more palatable to the squeamish, when government pressure forces the National Portrait Gallery, a gallery supported by my tax dollars, to remove an art work to assuage a politician, how do artists, artistic institutions, and cultural collaborators like critics make space for the debates that art should engender?

In her remarks celebrating World Theatre Day 2010, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Lynn Nottage said this of art and artists: "We must be unafraid to look honestly at the human condition and try to come to terms with its contradictions and flaws." That means approaching our work not as journalists, but as fabulators, storytellers, breaking rules to help re-imagine the world. We must be truthful, while spinning yarns. It is the paradox of our creative process that gives us access to places we dare not go in our everyday lives. It emboldens us to ask difficult questions about war, race, religion, poverty, love and hatred.

Art should provoke thought and promote discussion. In light of the Belarus Free Theatre’s plight, we must remember what is truly at stake.

Why Mary?

2011-02-03T15:42:00.000-06:00

By Robert Falls, Goodman Theatre Artistic Director

Rehearsals for the Goodman’s upcoming production of Mary charged forward this week, amid the third-worst blizzard in Chicago history. The first performance of this world premiere by Thomas Bradshaw (right) is this Saturday night; below, Goodman Theatre Artistic Director Robert Falls shares his thoughts on this remarkable new work.

When considering works for inclusion in a season at Goodman Theatre, we look for plays that contain myriad qualities: the uniqueness of the artistic voice (or voices) that power the project, the theatrical viability and vibrancy of that voice, and the urgency with which that voice must be heard—or in other words, why must this play be done by the Goodman now? Inherent in all of these considerations is our desire to stimulate a dialogue—both between our artists and audiences, and among our audiences in general—that addresses significant issues and concerns
in our lives, our society and our world.

Mary is the newest work by Guggenheim Fellow and Prince Prize-winning playwright Thomas Bradshaw, one of the brightest lights of a new generation of young writers who focus on the ideas and beliefs that continue to factionalize us, whether in the context of our families or in our society. Commissioned by the Goodman, Mary confronts the pervasive nature of racism and homophobia in American society with biting satire, while attacking and undermining the social and racial stereotypes that still plague us. Mary is timely and theatrical, and we hope that it will spark a lively discourse on the changing nature of bigotry and oppression in our
contemporary world.

When it was presented in staged reading form as part of our 2009 New Stages Series, Mary elicited a variety of passionate audience responses. I have no doubt that this production, under the direction of Thomas’ longtime collaborator May Adrales, will do the same.

Scene and Heard

2010-12-17T15:59:00.000-06:00

Happy Friday! Live theater is best, but theater-themed links are a moderately close second:

-When sets spread into the seats: The New York Times takes a look at environmental theater design.

-In Moscow, a bitter dispute rages over an opera house. (The Independent)

-What happens when 300 Los Angelenos perform spontaneous street theater? In the Heights creator Lin-Manuel Miranda has a pretty fun lunch, that’s what (YouTube).

-Using theater to cultivate peace in the Congo. (The Common Ground Blog)

The Guardian takes note as Belarus Free Theatre teaches a crowd of eager Londoners the true meaning of the phrase “brave performance.”

“Stephen-squared”—Sondheim and Colbert, together at last (Culture Monster).

Scene and Heard

2010-12-10T15:12:00.000-06:00

As our favorite curmudgeon-in-residence continues to Tweet his frozen heart out, check out these links from the world wide web:

Goodman Artistic Associate and playwright of The Trinity River Plays—which opens at the Goodman next month—Regina Taylor, writes about her inspiration on Black America Web.

Jeff Daniels on switch hitting God of Carnage.

Was Scrooge really all that bad a boss?

The mayor of Yerevan, Armenia, reminds us why it’s important to secure your seats early.

The Making of Chinglish

2010-12-08T15:05:00.000-06:00

By Tanya Palmer, Director of New Play Development

The plays that I respond to the most are plays that ask a lot of us. They challenge designers and directors by creating complex, imaginative worlds that demand brilliant creative solutions to realize them onstage. They demand a lot of actors because the characters who inhabit them are never simple or predictable in their behavior or their psychology. And they demand a lot of audiences because they ask them to listen closely with their heads and hearts.

Chinglish—David Henry Hwang’s latest work, which will make its debut at the Goodman this June—is definitely a demanding play, not just on all those folks I mentioned, but on its producers too. But boy does it give a lot back. Set in a smallish city in contemporary western China, the play tells the story of an American businessman who travels there in hopes of taking advantage of China’s “economic miracle,” but soon discovers that he truly doesn’t understand what’s happening around him. Written in both English and Mandarin, the play addresses the issue of translation and how difficult it is for people from two different cultures to communicate. Chinglish is a demanding play to work on because it asks a bunch of people from different cultural backgrounds to get together in a room. It asks Americans who generally, as the play tells us “don’t speak a single f***ing foreign language,” to wrap their head around Mandarin, and it takes us into a country and a culture that many of us think we know something about, but most of us really don’t. But it does it with such incredible humor, skill, and intelligence that it feels almost effortless.

A few weeks ago, a group of the collaborators working on the play—who ranged from the usual collection of actors, directors, and designers, to a Hong Kong-based playwright and translator who is working closely with David Henry Hwang on the Mandarin translations in the play, to a cultural ambassador who had guided Hwang and a group of New York producers through the ins and outs of Chinese bureaucracies—gathered to workshop the play at the Lark Play Development Center in New York City.

Workshopping a play is something we do all the time. It usually involves casting a group of actors—some of whom may go on to perform in the final production, some of whom may not—gathering them around a table, and reading the play. Then we discuss the script as a group. Perhaps the writer will go away and make some changes—and then ultimately a small audience of interested parties is invited to come and hear the play read out loud. This was what happened this time around as well, but with a lot of added hurdles in the way.

First off, the casting. David has written a play that is essentially half in Mandarin (though don’t worry—there are subtitles, so all of us non-Mandarin speakers can follow along). It can be tricky enough to find Asian actors who speak Mandarin, but one of the characters is an Australian-born English teacher named Peter who speaks fluent Mandarin. Certainly there are westerners out there who can speak fluent Mandarin – maybe even a few Australians. But can they act? Miraculously, the crack casting teams from the Goodman and The Public Theater in New York tracked down a wonderful young actor named Benjamin Thys. Originally from Belgium, Benjamin had worked and studied in China, and happened to be in New York pursuing an MFA in acting at New York’s New School. He was offered an opportunity to take part in the workshop, and the play was cast.

Then, the subtitles. Sean, a videographer and fluent Mandarin speaker, has been part of the creative team from early on, and has been invaluable in putting together the subtitles that serve not only a useful function (we get to understand what the actors are saying when they speak Mandarin) but also a critical thematic and comic function—this is, after all. a play about translation, and how slippery language can be. There’s what people mean to say—and then there’s what the translators translate. Rarely are they the same.

And then, there’s coming up with the best way of translating David’s language from English to Mandarin—that’s where translator Candace Chong and China consultants Joanna and Ken Lee came into the mix. They have helped not only in shaping the language of the piece, but also in bringing an authenticity to the world of the play. Joanna and Ken arranged a trip for the playwright, director and producers to western China, where the play is set, and there they met Chinese bureaucrats and were guided through the world that the play conjures. Because the play is all about miscommunication—cultural, linguistic, and everything in between—a thorough understanding of what we’re misunderstanding about the Chinese language and culture is critical for David to craft his play. Candace, Joanna and Ken’s knowledge and understanding have been an integral part of this play coming to life.

They say it takes a village to raise a child—this is no less true of a play, particularly a play as ambitious as Chinglish. After this, rehearsing and staging the play should seem like a piece of cake.

Friday Link Time

2010-12-03T12:06:00.000-06:00

Happy Friday everyone! Enjoy our findings from the wide theater web:

American Theatre magazine’s Richard Schechner explores the history of non-traditional casting, and I wonder: could future Scrooges take on a more feminine appearance? (We already have the gender-neutral nightgown.)

Speaking of Scrooge, the Goodman’s curmudgeon-in-residence falls in love again—with technology (sorry, Belle).

Stephen Sondheim and Frank Rich wear near-matching sweaters and meet in New York to talk Bernstein, new musical development, and Glee.

Gospel music, dance, and Langston Hughes: starting tonight, The Nativity is showing in the Goodman's Owen Theatre.

Around this time of year it’s easy to get jealous of the seasonal slumber of bears, but this video reminds us that it’s not all fun and games for our four-legged friends—professional stage actors in the animal kingdom have it rough, too.