July 2008 Archives

About two months after I wrote the first draft of MILITANT LANGUAGE I was invited to a playwriting retreat with a group of writers from MFA programs from around the country. The goal was to develop our pieces with a Artistic Directors and Dramaturgs from the regional theatre landscape. We were sent a short synopsis of everyone's plays and who each of us would be working with- and two months later we all descended on Califronia together.

That first night when mingling, I remember one of the other playwrights saying "Oh yeah, I guess you're the one who rights about 'things'"- it was playful and joking but dismissive, too. I'm relatively passive like most of us- and also sensitive- and despite being hurt I just kind of laughed along with him and agreed... I write about things.

No matter your motivation writing about something like Iraq is daunting. One because it's huge. It's everywhere. It is widely understood and recognized. Most people have an opinion on the war, most don't need a lecture or polemic.

It's also daunting because it's exploitative. I know this. I wrestle with this.

A classmate of mine at the University of Iowa was a veteran of Iraq. Sharing this play with him was terrifying. Comments like my fellow writer's could have been terrifying as well. However... we need a political theatre. In a country as wide and varied as ours- we need dialogue. I think people's fear of "political" theater is their fear of propoganda. Their fear of what's untrue. If it's political in this country we assume it has an agenda. (Although most plays do) We fear it will manipulate us. That it will lie. It will try to trick.

We've lived with public figures manipulating us already. We have news outlets and other media to fill that void much more convincingly than a few actors on a bare stage on a Saturday night. We want our theater to be exciting and surprising.

And I was highly aware of that while writing this.

We want our theatre to be honest.

And I followed that impulse as well...

It's funny, when I first was asked about this play I'd say it was an "anti-political" play. Or "anti-propoganda." Words that seemed exciting but in truth I wasn't really sure what I meant by saying them. I was wary what it meant to be someone who wrote politically.

Now, I just say it's a play. A play about right now.

My heroes wrote those plays. Kushner. Churchill. Koltes. Soyinka.

An A.D. friend of mine often tells me the trouble with producing Political Theatre is that it has to be better than 99% of all other theater because the public has so many preconceptions they demand that it be so good... I think it 's the literary equivalent of James Cagney's acting advice: "just look the other guys in the eyes and tell him the truth."

Not what you think the truth is. Not what you hope it will be.
But what it is.

The ugly. The pretty. And all that's in between.

In June of 2006 I was doing Shakespeare in a park in the middle of Iowa. We were in rep and I had a small role in the second show so I'd use the time to write. I was trying to write a play for my friends. I grew up in Pine Bush, NY- a small town outside Poughkeepsie- my friends were in Iraq. One was a friend from high school, another a teammate at wrestling camp, one joined up after a close friend of ours died while doing carpentry at the World Trade.

So, I began to write them. My version of them. My version of this world.

Not a play about "Iraq is bad," not a play about "Republicans are evil," not a play about what it's like when people come home... my friends weren't home. My friends aren't home. The wrestler is dead. My friend from high school has been re-assigned. See, politically I didn't know what I thought of the war. I was scared 9-11. Terrified. I wanted retribution. It's not popular to say. But I wanted to feel safe. And bombings sounded safe, attacks sounded safe... and then my friends left.

The wrestler is dead.
The friend is re-assigned.

And I still couldn't say outright that the war was evil. I couldn't paint it black and white.
I didn't agree with it.
But I liked feeling safe.
I didn't agree with it- but that was easy to say. To just say other people made this choice for me. Stupid leaders. Stupid policy. Stupid countries.

Doesn't change the fact that my friend is re-assigned. The one I have left.

This is my dialogue with him.

With you.
With these cities. I'm lucky they'll let me share it.

And this blog will let me share more as we go on. Please comment and visit. I think it'd be nice if we talked. I think it's time we should...

Best,

SCL