When Last We Flew

Thursday, August 26

I’m horrible at goodbyes.  This weekend we’ll present our last couple of shows for “When Last We Flew” at the Lucille Lortel.  And I don’t mind telling you that I’ve enjoyed this process so immensely.  Not just because we have had the opportunity to work on a wonderful play, but because of the gifted and generous people I’ve been able to work with.  If you haven’t had the chance to see the fun and spontaneous work of my good friends Allison Mackie, Wade Allain Marcus, Rory Lipede, Tamela Aldridge, Christopher Larkin and of course, Jon Micheal Reese, you have been missing out.  Because once a group of actors becomes an ensemble, there is no force more powerful in theatre!  And we have had the generous support of our director, Colette Robert and Eric Louie and Anthony Francavilla.

One of the great parts about The Fringe Festival is its “guerilla theatre” work ethic.  It’s all fun and games, right up until opening day, when you realize the kind of singular focus it takes to tell the story because you haven’t had a ton of time in the theatre you work in.  Because you don’t really know for sure what the lighting and sound cue is gonna be for your scene.  You’re not really settled into the dressing room with your cup of hot tea and your script with a little pre-show workout cause you essentially only have twenty minutes to get in there and get your clothes on and start the show.  With those elements missing, the great part about working in the Fringe Festival is the singular level of focus and concentration and openness it takes to do the show – and it makes you a better actor – a better STORYTELLER.

But mostly, it makes you a better ensemble.  Your story is huge.  Incredible! You know that each of you is responsible for telling each other’s story, as well as your own.  You take care of each other.  You take care of the story.  You take care of the staging, careful to stand in the right way, so the other person’s moment rings out – truthfully.  It transforms the entire cast and then, the audience.

I have said in earlier blogs that I believe in the integrity of the backstage life, of a company of actors who give up their time and their energy to support a playwright with their gifts.  We share our life’s experiences with these characters.  We share our response to what Harrison wrote to the director.  And ultimately, we give up all of that to the other people we share the stage with, and trust that it will all make sense in the end.

So this is my goodbye to my wonderful ensemble – a little early.  There’s still a lot of work to do, a lot of moments to find on stage, moments to discover where these characters fly.  But from where do we – or I- take off?

There is a quote by August Wilson, which I love.  He says:  “Working as an artist is a joyful process. I don’t create my art out of pain and suffering. I create it out of the zestful, joyous part of life. Pain and suffering are parts of death which is a part of life, but the joyful part is the ground on which I stand.”

Working with these actors is the ground upon which I stand and of course, from where I take off.  Thanks, guys.  Hope to do it again very soon.

Wednesday, August 25

This is the first Fringe Festival I have been a part of in NYC.  The moment I walked into the audition, I knew I was about the have some fun with the people in the room.  After being cast, it seemed like it took forever for rehearsals to start (forever = 2 weeks).  Meeting everyone at the kick-off party was exhilarating and somewhat intimidating at the same time.  Exhilarating because we were embarking on this journey; intimidating because of the realization, at that moment, that Allison & I were joining a family that had already been formed.  Putting that thought aside, I acknowledged this play as the creative smorgasbord all-you-can-eat buffet it is, picked up my knife and fork and dived in.

The whirlwind rehearsal period.  Need I say more?  For me, this is always the most frustrating part of the process–I’m always in the constant mode of trying to “figure out” this character. There’s nothing more satisfying than nailing a moment, then within the next few lines feeling completely lost again.  Such a rollercoaster ride!  Filled with tons of questions, trying to justify your character’s actions and finding the rhythm of the scenes.  THEN, add on top of all of that, the insecurity that always lurks within any artist.  But the wlwf team had my back!

Colette’s ability to constantly listen and her steadfast support. Harrison’s willingness to adjust some of the lines.  Bonding with Christopher, Wade-Allain and Jon-Michael while eating popcorn, baked chips and protein bars!  Witnessing Karen, Allison and dear Rory (I love my daughter) create magically wonderful moments in the rehearsal rooms.  And Shelby Love always there with such a warm and engaging smile on her face.  All of this allowed me to let go of the questions and fears; to just breathe and be.

The true test came on the Saturday we did our first run-through in front of the entire production team.  There were so many people in the room!  Very intimidating, but the cast stayed true to the work we’d discovered thus far and WE FLEW!  That’s what it felt like to me…the story was starting to fly.  The production team was amazingly supportive and had nothing but generous things to say about the characters.  But, I still had a needling feeling of incompleteness that I couldn’t articulate.  It was just so important to me that Colette and Harrison were happy with what they were seeing.  Colette, most likely sensing my unease, sent me a beautiful email stating what she see’s in Priscilla’s journey; this email was a gentle reminder to trust my instincts, don’t overthink it!

I’m now at the place where I’m enjoying stepping into Priscilla and going on her journey.  But what I realized after yesterday’s performance is I finally feel like I’ve become a member of this extraordinary wlwf family.   My sincere thanks and appreciation to Colette, Harrison, Eric, Anthony, Anne, K.J., Jessica, Julia, Sven, Anika, Caroline H., Seena, Karen, Jason, Sam, Shelby, Caroline, Carolina, Wade-Allain, Christopher, Allison, Jon-Michael, Karen and Rory!  Thank you all for graciously welcoming me into this phenomenal family and allowing me to fly with you.

I’m so fortunate that this was my first Fringe show!

Wednesday, August 25

As I sit down to write this, I ask myself what exactly have I learned from this experience?

And the answers are not the ones I thought I’d come up with.

Perhaps they are more to do with learning to move through your life with more grace. When things feel as if they are spiraling out of control around you, where DO you find your grace?

My dear sweet Mother is very frail, and has been sick for a long time.  And now is one of those times when she needs that extra bit of attention from me, just when I have almost no extra time to give. You see, I am moving, right after we close the play. Out of my apartment in Los Angeles where I have lived for 16 years.  It was first home that I put together all by myself. It was my first haven, launching ground, bachelorette pad.  The first home I ever decorated and saw what MY taste was.  It housed my first new car, linens, and my first pots and pans that weren’t hand-me-downs.

I digress.  Suffice it to say this is looming in front of me and I dread the emotional pain of letting go.  And then I think about this amazing play, that is all about letting go.  The Mothers who have to let their children fly from the nest, trusting that they’ve done all they can but now their job is almost over.  The children who have to let go of the fear of being themselves and learn to trust their unique voices.  Letting go of preconceived notions of sexuality, social activism, racism, blame for a failed marriage….letting go.  So fascinating to me that my characters are supposed to be the instrument or catalyst by which the others learn to let go….and yet I am having the most trouble of everyone letting go of those things in my life that I have become attached to, that made me feel safe, that were things I used to define myself.

A very wise friend once told me that life is a series of births and deaths. And in order for something new to be born in your life, often you have to be willing to let something die.  To make room for that new thing, person, experience.  The worst part is the letting go of my Mother. I know that day comes nearer all the time, and as much as I try and prepare for it, I know deep in my heart you can never be prepared to let go of a parent.  It is a hole in your heart, a loss so deep that you feel you may never recover. And yet….and yet, isn’t it also a final act of setting you free?  Your Mother has finished her journey, has finished the raising of you and her soul is looking for the next experience.

I only hope that the Angel will teach me something about letting go before she leaves my experience.  Maybe she will teach me how to find that grace I so desperately need to get through the days ahead of me.  I will miss her, but hopefully, she will always be a part of me.

Monday, August 23

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Or

A (Not So Brief) History of when last we flew

Or

Timelines Are The Best!

May 2008, 14^th Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues

After leaving a meeting for our theatre company, At Play, Harrison tells me about a new play he’s working on.  In it, a boy is going to read Angels in America in his bathroom, and a girl is going to talk about being the “onliest black girl” in her school.  Harrison tells me that there’s going to be a reading produced by Freedom Train Productions later in the summer, and he needs a director.  He offers to send me what he has so far.  And then I can decide.  Not necessary, I say.  I’m in.

August 2008, South Oxford Space, Brooklyn

Reading #1, and I know that there is something special about this play.  There’s a lot that still needs to be figured out—character doubling, for one, and the ending isn’t right.  But there is definitely something special about this play.

And I just adore working with Harrison.  He’s funny, smart, honest, and super talented.  Plus, we both know every song in the made-for-television movie-musical Polly (1989).

This collaboration is meant to be.

July 2009, Lincoln Center Theater

Reading #2.  When I apply for the Directors Lab, I apply with Harrison’s script as an example of a play “that is from the world I come from, that is me—my culture and my belief system and my generation.”  The character of Natalie—I totally know her.  In high school, I was her, pre-flight.

Harrison and I work with a fantastic, generous, and opinionated group of artists who help us clarify the story we’re trying to tell.  We find an ending, and play with live sound.

October 2009, New York Theatre Workshop

Reading #3.  Harrison and I ask our friend Rory Lipede to play Natalie, and she is phenomenal.  We also meet Karen Pittman and Jon-Michael Reese, who play mother and son with honesty and truth.

I fall even deeper in love with this play.

June 2010, Governors Island

Sundance!  Sunshine!  The Ferry!  And another generous and amazing company of actors, including my favorite Bro-mantics: Wade Allain-Marcus and Christopher Larkin.  We spend two glorious weeks discovering, digging deep, in a continuous state of play.

Late July-August 2010, Every Single Rehearsal Space in Manhattan

We’re doing the Fringe, y’all!

Eric Louie and Anthony Francavilla are Producing Geniuses!  They work with Sam Morris, Jason Haft, Caroline Hendrix, Seena Hodges, and Karen Rusch on marketing, press, and fundraising.  Friends, family, and colleagues generously donate to the production on RocketHub.com, and we’re off!  The Show. Is. Actually. Going. To Happen.

We assemble an A+ design team.  Jessica Pabst, Julia Meinwald, Sven Nelson, KJ Hardy, and Anne Goelz are Artists.  They are able to make a gallon of lemonade out of a lemon wedge and a sugar packet.  (aka Design something incredibly beautiful and delicious, given a limited budget and the crazy parameters of the Fringe.)

Thanks to Anika Chapin, casting director extraordinaire, we find Tamela Aldridge and Allison Mackie.  Both ladies bring wisdom, commitment, and fierceness to their roles.

And of course, what is a show without stage management?  Lots of love to Shelby Love, who is passionate about the play and super-duper organized.  She’s the best!  Caroline Englander and Carolina Cuervo prevent Backstage from becoming Total Chaos.  Three cheers for them!

This is the when last we flew family.

Welcome.

August 2010, Lucille Lortel Theatre

47 iced coffees, 19 rehearsals, 3.5 freak outs, and 1 performance into the Fringe: Here I am.  With my final blog entry.  With gratitude and love.  And with awe at how high this project has flown.

Monday,  August 23

I guess we’re late enough in the game, and I can finally admit something fairly embarrassing.

I still haven’t read ANGELS IN AMERICA in its entirety. I haven’t even seen it on stage.

You’d think by now, I would’ve gotten around to it, especially since I have my BA in Dramatic Literature from NYU and I’ve been working in theater for about a decade here in NYC. But, nope.

The truth of the matter is that without ANGELS, I wouldn’t be writing this blog. I wouldn’t be writing this blog because without Harrison encountering ANGELS, WHEN LAST WE FLEW wouldn’t exist. And the funny thing is, without ANGELS, I may never have started working with Harrison.

Dramatic, right?

But, let me back up, lest you start thinking less of me than you already do.

I was exposed to ANGELS through the HBO miniseries- specifically, a Broadway Cares screening. It was December 2003- I was a junior at NYU and working as an assistant to Broadway Producer Margo Lion. Margo, along with her associate at the time Lily Hung, set me on my path to becoming a producer. She was an original producer on ANGELS and bought Lily and I tickets to see the screening of Millennium Approaches.

I was speechless when the lights came up at the end of Millennium and then, as a surprise, they launched immediately into Perestroika. It seems obvious to say that seeing ANGELS back to back in its entirety changed my life and my career from that point on.

There was so much to take in and process but I remember being particularly struck by the monologue Harper delivers right before the Epilogue, as she’s flying west, ready to start her life over. She ends with “Nothing’s lost forever. In this world, there’s a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we’ve left behind, and dreaming ahead.” There are so many beautiful moments in ANGELS but I remember being in awe of the beauty of that particular passage. It’s stayed with me ever since.

Three years later, while in grad school at Columbia, I met Harrison after reaching out to many of the playwrights in the program. I was looking for artists to work with and he sent me a copy of his first play, PROPHET’S WIFE. I remember thinking, while reading, that Harrison was clearly an exiting young writer with a lot to say and an even bigger imagination.

Then I got to the end. And there was this monologue. And I remember being struck by how beautiful and honest it was and my mind immediately brought me back to sitting in that dark movie theater, listening to Harper’s monologue at the end of ANGELS. And by the time I came to “END OF PLAY,” I knew that I had found an artist I needed to work with. There was no other choice. I guess you could call it my own revelation of sorts.

I think about everything that’s happened since then and how far both Harrison and I have grown as artists through the work we’ve done together and the amazing people we’ve worked with and continue to work with to this day. It’s a little overwhelming.

Oh, and that Harper monologue- the one that stayed with me and the one that connected me to Harrison’s work- it also plays an important part in triggering WHEN LAST WE FLEW’s protagonist Paul’s revelation. Weird, right?

Four years and a bunch of projects later, we’re now in the midst of our run of WHEN LAST WE FLEW- that play that never would have happened with ANGELS.

And yes, I still haven’t read ANGELS. I will though. Soon. But, I feel as if I have already.

OH, and that monologue that Harrison wrote? The one that started this crazy journey? I’ve put it at the end of this entry. Maybe it’ll trigger a revelation for you.

And… just a reminder- we’re playing at The Lucille Lortel Theater through Sunday (August 29th). To say I’m proud of WHEN LAST WE FLEW would be an understatement. I mean that wholeheartedly.

PS- if you haven’t done so already, check out our RAVE review from NYTheatre.com: http://www.nytheatre.com/nytheatre/review_fnyc.php?t=when10729

Thanks for reading.

Eric

——————————

From Prophet’s Wife by Harrison David Rivers:

CLUNY is at center. She is wearing traveling clothes and carries a purse, a small overnight case and a rolling bag. She speaks out.

CLUNY

Flying west. Backwards in time.

Wake up. Set off. Arrive before you left.

Miles above that which you know.

Making the best of peanuts and the five dollar a drink bar.

Time races ahead.

So fast. So furious. That it laps itself. And reverses.

And while you’re counting the hours until you land.

You’ve actually already pulled your luggage from the carousel.

And hailed a very expensive taxi.

To meet your very forgetful sister.

And her odd little husband.

And their little savior who looks more and more like God everyday.

And while you’re riding along in the backseat.

Chatting up the driver.

Who isn’t bad looking except for the hare lip.

And ascending a somewhat familiar looking flight of stairs.

Aware for the first time.

How heavy your bags really are.

Time catches up with you.

And though you’re younger now than you were before.

By hours at least.

You find yourself short of breath.

And you have to sit.

Because your only other alternative is to fall.

And you can’t quite bring yourself to let go.

And while you’re sitting there.

On the verge of arriving.

You understand.

Not everything.

No, certainly not everything.

For no one quite knows that.

Or the extent of that.

But many more things than you knew before.

And then.

As revelation breaks around you.

A great white light.

You surrender to sleep.

And upon waking.

Believe it all to be a dream.

She raises her arm.

TAXI!

Lights out.

END OF PLAY

Saturday, August 21

three summers ago, i took the opportunity to grab an early breakfast with lee wilkof. his wife directed my first professional theatre gig in the city, which had just come to a close. when he made the offer to meet up, i jumped at the chance. i vividly remember taking notes while trying to shovel down the eggs and toast that he so generously offered to pay for. that notebook, along with the bullet points in it, have long been hidden in the pigsty that i refer to as my closet. although the notes have gone unnoticed over the years, there is one point that has stayed with me ever since.

the majority of jobs you will land in this business are bound to come through the side door, rather than through the front.

in other words, the only thing you can expect in this business is the unexpected. those happy accidents, if you will.

in my experience, nothing could be further from the truth. in regards to when last we flew, id be lying if i said i took any part of this process for granted. in truth, i shouldnt have even been cast to begin with. while doing a reading over at new dramatists this past may, a certain playwright named harrison rivers just happened to be in the audience. after playing bounty hunter and tracking me down, i was easily persuaded to take two weeks off from work to do the sundance lab. this led to my participation in the fringe, along with the blog that im currently writing from the front desk of a very chic hotel in midtown east. for someone who doesnt believe in fate, divine intervention or the notion that ‘everything happens for a reason,’ i suppose i owe it all to my father’s definition of luck: those rare moments when hard work and good timing unite.

with the show officially under way, this may very well be my final post. with little over a week to go, im feeling nostalgic for a piece that hasnt even closed yet. ill try to avoid being overly sentimental, but why fight an uphill battle? just look what happened at gettysburg. my deepest gratitude goes out to everyone involved. thank you for salvaging my summer.

this is ian. signing off.

Thursday, August 19– Opening

I Honestly Don’t Have Words

…

I Don’t Have Words

(and words are supposed to be my thing)

To Describe How I Feel About The Fact That We’re Opening Today

(insert freak out here)

Today Is Opening

(insert freak out number two here)

We

Open

To

Day

(third times a charm)

…

…

Today Is The First Day That People

(well, not only friends and family)

Will Be Able To Experience When Last We Flew

In A Fully Staged

Fully Designed

Fully Teched

Way

…

…

…

It Will Be The First Time That I Will Be Experiencing When Last We Flew

In A Fully Staged

Fully Designed

Fully Teched

Way

…

…

Wow!

…

…

What A Day.

Wednesday, August 18

When I was eight I wanted to be the first black female President of the United States of America.  I didn’t really know what that entailed.  I just liked the idea of being in charge of people.  And of being the first to do something.

I set my sights even higher at nine:  I dreamed of becoming a Buyer at a department store!  I could get paid to go shopping?  Amazing!

I saw The Lion King when I was twelve, and decided that I should probably work for Disney as an Animator.  Art was my favorite subject in school for years…

I made several career changes in middle school and high school— Journalist, Lawyer, Marine Biologist, Interior Decorator, Location Scout.  The list goes on.  And on.

And then, when I was sixteen, I took a class called Advanced Scene Study.  Everyone was required to direct at least one scene over the course of the semester, and my teacher asked for volunteers for the first unit, based around Tom Stoppard’s The Real Thing.

Now, at the time, I had no idea what a Director did.  Something about being in charge?

And I can’t remember how my teacher explained the job.  Whatever he said, I was intrigued.

I raised my hand.

By the end of that semester, I was hooked.  Directing felt right.  It was artistic and academic and visceral and extremely rewarding.

Twelve years later, and I’m still raising my hand to direct.

It still feels right.

Although I must admit, I still can’t tell you what a Director does.  Not exactly.

Something about being in charge?

Monday, August 16

There’s a blog in me, waiting to come out.  It’s waiting.  The problem is that there is so much work to be done still on my story, my character that there is very little to put together in a prose form.
Harrison talked weeks ago about how difficult it is to write when you are filled with emotion.  I think I completely understand that now!

I’m finding it hard to write about Marian and Paul because I’ve discovered so much and I don’t want you to know – yet.  Or at least, until you come to see the show!  And I am so busy when we’re not rehearsing trying to digest the “meal” that I’m afraid I might “lose my cookies” if I disclose my true feelings.  (Can I take that metaphor any further?  No…I don’t think so.)  I’m gonna try the 10 Point Plan for this week.  And it’s in no particular order, but here is what I can tell you about Me and Marian and Our Story.

1.  Marian’s depressed.  Not easy to live fully as a depressed person on stage without taking some of it home.  Period.

2.  Paul’s distant.  And it really hurts to be alone in a house with another person.

3.  There are no “Angels” in real life.  But we do talk to ourselves-our best selves and our worst selves.  And they either lift us up or keep us grounded.

4.  I want to be brilliant in this role, but – I’m gonna settle for ordinary working actor.

5.  I appreciate my kids in a whole new way since this has started.

6.  I think after this – I want to do a TV job where I don’t have to feel my emotions on the surface of my skin all day.  To just scratch it means I fall apart, and my boyfriend is a little helpless.

7.  Harrison is pretty genius, right now.  In my book.  Every word – it’s a little like church – someone needs to hear.  And I’m not washin’ his car, folks.  It’s true.

8.  Marriage is HARD work…not “hard work” but “get-up-at 5 AM-after-two-all-nighters-with-a-migraine-and-a-bruised-ego-kind-of-hard.”  Especially for women.

9.  I usually go out for drinks and hang with the cast during a show. It’s always been hard to do that with this show and after seeing it, you’ll know why.

10.  I wish this play goes all the way to Broadway.  Our souls are laid bare.  But if it doesn’t – you know what?- No, I can’t even say that…I would be really disappointed.  It’s important…it’s THAT important.  It’s as important as voting for Barack Obama in my book. You have to do it.  Not because it’s history but because the world needs it.  The WORLD needs this play to be heard…No part is small in this play.  Everybody says something that the world needs to hear.

Damn…Look at all that.  I had that much to say?

Love.
K

Monday, August 16

Whenever I produce a show, I set out a list of expectations at the start of any production. I find that it manages expectations and helps me keep everyone involved in check. I always ask myself “what do I want to happen to feel like we have succeeded in what we’ve set out to do?”

Now, the reach of this list can be as “simple” as:

1. I hope we don’t go over budget
2. I hope we play to packed houses
3. I hope we get great reviews

That’s pretty standard and, well, par for the course when you’re producing.

And as the process begins and progresses, I find that sometimes I’m occasionally lucky to be able to check off a few items on my list.

So far, I’ve been able to check-off:

1. Find a wonderful play that has something important to say, but is also incredibly funny, charming, humane, and magical
2. Put together an incredible team of actors and designers, who not only care about and believe in what we’re doing but are also brilliant artists in their own right.
3. Complement those amazing artists with a staff that complements the level of excellence the artists have set who are ready to stop at nothing to sing the praises of this fantastic production and piece.

As we now being to barrel towards our first performance this Thursday, and having finished our 4 hours of tech, I now present to you the rest of my “wish list.” May these dream/expectations/inevitabilities come true pronto:

1. Find an audience who is in love with this piece as much as everyone else involved with it is. (this may be hard as the level of admiration for this show is unworldly… and rightfully so!).
2. Cast each and every one of these radiant cast members in EVERYTHING (in particular Rory Lipede, who has appeared in nearly every show I’ve produced or worked on since 2006 and is, in my mind, one of the most amazing undiscovered talents in NYC).
3. Have the somewhat prickly Fringe staff at the Lucille Lortel Theater feel the when last we flew love.
4. Have this piece spark conversation about love, race, sexuality, family, etc.
5. Have August 29^th (our Fringe closing date) not be the end of our amazing journey. There is more story to tell and more lives to touch.

And so, I offer you up a challenge- to come and experience and e-mail me (Eric.Louie@gmail.com) and either check-off one of the 5 points in my “to do” list or hammer in solidly that the list will never be finished.

Most important, to me at least, is that you come see what we’ve done. I’m so incredibly proud of everyone involved with when last we flew and I hope you will feel the same way.