Chinglish Roundup

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.