Monday, September 12, 2011

Inspired: Party of Two, Part I

CNN recently announced a poll of America's Top Five Most-Hated Individuals. We can't be the only people to think this is a monumental waste of time. Please tell us someone didn't get paid to survey Americans on the subject.

So, to politely thumb our noses, we decided to do the exact opposite: we're each going to share five individuals that have had a significant impact on our work as creative artists.

There was no criteria for our list. It could be comprised of people we know, or those whom we admire (whether alive or deceased).  Here’s David's list - Tom's will soon follow.


Leonard Bernstein
I admire Bernstein because he did so many things, and did them all exceedingly well. From writing opera, musical theatre, classical works and film scores, to his work as a conductor, pianist and ardent educator, Bernstein's output was exhaustive. Anyone who can go from writing Chichester Psalms to On the Town is my kind of composer.  Bernstein taught a whole generation about music, from his Omnibus TV Broadcasts to the Norton Lectures at Harvard.  He had a brilliant mind, yet knew how to communicate the intricacies of theory and structure to the lay person.  He was also an activist, and used his talents to raise money for causes that were important to him, such as civil rights and world peace. Bernstein wasn't afraid to ask hard questions through his music (the Kaddish and Mass being two prime examples), however untidy the result. I respect people who challenge themselves, and Bernstein dared to reach out in more directions than one could have thought possible. That's the type of artist I want to be.

If you're not familiar with it, I highly recommend reading Meryle Secrest's enthralling biography on Bernstein.


Emily Dickinson
I’ve never had more respect for one of America’s greatest woman poets than when I tried to set some of her texts to music. Dickinson was a master in economy while creating intricate worlds for the reader to explore. She also wasn’t afraid to tackle difficult subject matter, specifically death and immortality.  Her poems went largely unpublished during her lifetime. The less than a dozen that were published were greatly altered by editors to meet the tastes of the day. Imagine the perseverance she must have had to continue writing in spite of constant rejection.

Dickinson was a very reclusive person. There are several anecdotes of her vanishing from a party or declining a social engagement in favor of writing.  It underscores the notion that so often we are slaves to our work. As Sondheim wrote in Sunday in the Park with George:

Finishing the hat.
How you have to finish the hat.
How you watch the rest of the world from a window
While you finish the hat.

Speaking of Sondheim...


Stephen Sondheim
This almost feels trite to mention, but I have to count Sondheim among my major influences. My first exposure to his work was Into the Woods, which we studied in my AP English class in high school.  In college, I bought and obsessively listened to Sweeney Todd, which is on my "stranded on a desert island" list.  Beyond the obviously high level of craft, the thing I appreciate most about Sondheim's work is his ability to create subtext in the music without ever being heavy-handed about it.  Making something feel fresh and at the same time inevitable sometimes seems impossible to do, but Sondheim has set before us some of the greatest theatrical examples.

The worlds of his many shows have taken him (and us) to amazingly disparate musical places, from opera to rap. The story and the characters dictate the trajectory of the score. Perhaps that seems an obvious statement, but too often in today's musical theatre, the specificity needed to create a world into which the audience is invited is either lacking or non-existent.  Sondheim is a master at this, and we learn more about the characters (and ourselves) as a result.

When I first moved to New York, I wrote to Sondheim for some comments on my musical Here I Am: A Musical Personal Ad.  His first letter was an apology for taking so long to get back to me.  He followed that with a lovely letter of thoughtful critiques of my work.  Now that's classy.

Please also consider Meryle Secrest's wonderful biography on Sondheim.


Audra McDonald
One of the theatrical highlights of my life was seeing Audra McDonald play Lizze in 110 in the Shade at a small community theatre in Orem, Utah.  She and her boyfriend Will Swenson returned to Swenson’s roots to do a fundraiser for his hometown theatre company.  Seeing her up close made me appreciate even more her ability to maintain her technical prowess while staying fully immersed in the character’s experience.  She’s an artist who serves the song. This means the tone doesn’t always have to be “pretty.”  It just has to be honest.  And her honesty is what brings to life the many characters she has played.  Her recent glowing New York Times review in relation to the Broadway-bound production of The Gershwin's Porgy & Bess only underscores this.

She has also been a tireless activist for marriage equality. Sometimes when I need a good cry, I watch this youtube video, which shows her performing at a marriage equality event hosted by Broadway Impact in May, 2009.  A month later, when receiving the Human Right Campaign's Ally for Equality Award, she said, "In my heart, I am not fighting with you or for you.  There is no me or you.  There's only us."  For me, her earnestness makes her a brilliant performer and beautiful human being.


Dr. Joseph Downing
Dr. Downing was, by far, my favorite professor during my undergraduate degree at Syracuse University. I actually met Dr. Downing my senior year in high school. I was paired with him for a mentorship program through my school. My friend Nancy, who was to be our valedictorian, got dropped off at a bio-chem lab of some sort, and I was taken to a castle on the hill, then known as Crouse College at SU.  Dr. D found ways to explain the boundaries of theory and counterpoint without ever crushing my creativity. One day he played me a piece he wrote for wind ensemble. It was one of those experiences that opened my ears to possibilities I had never known existed. Dr. Downing not only talked one of the SU choral directors into premiering a piece I wrote under his mentorship, he also made sure I applied to SU and received a scholarship.

My four years at SU were the happiest of my academic career. Some of my fondest memories include being one of Dr. Downing's teacher assistants for sight singing (I loved adjudicating my peer's midterm and final aural exams!), watching a phenomenal video of Tosca with our music history class on a Friday night (Dr. D brought snacks) and having him come see me play Whizzer in Falsettos (before I knew who I was, or the significance of his supporting me). Dr. Downing continues to inspire me as a musician, teacher and person. Having someone like Dr. Downing in my life secured my love of writing and music-making. I think of him often as I work with my students, trying to provide for them the same caring support and guidance.

Those are my five.  I could have chosen about thirty more.

I hope it goes without saying that my collaborator Tom and our director Laura Josepher inspire me.  Perhaps I don't say it often enough, so it's worth mentioning here. Tom and I are very blessed to have worked together for over six years.  Like any relationship, there have been growing pains and frustrations, but our writing styles and perspectives are so compatible, and we gain so much from each other's knowledge, that we see the tremendous gift we've been given.  And Laura - I don't know what we would do without her. She has been such an invaluable source of support and guidance. She's one of those directors who knows how to balance logistics while never losing her creative vision.

I hope this inspires you to think about who has had an impact on your life. Stay tuned for Tom's entry. And let's ignore CNN, shall we?

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Rewrites Are Forever

For a long time now, we've joked about creating t-shirts that say: "Rewrites Are Forever."  We're sure they'd sell by the metric ton, purchased by anyone who is embroiled in the process of writing (and, thus, rewriting, and rewriting...)

It's hard to believe our musical FALLING TO EARTH is just a little over four years old now.  We've seen it through long, sleepless nights.  We've argued about whose turn it is to change the diapers.  And oh, the reprimands and "time-outs." Our friend, the unfairly talented and hilarious Jen Peterman, likes to say she sees us as parents, one lenient, one stern, sending their child onto an unsupervised playground. The favored parent sends the baby off with exclamations of, “Go, Falling to Earth! Have fun! Come back before sundown!” While the other admonishes, “Falling to Earth, don’t go near that jungle gym! And stay away from that dog! And no ice cream until you finish lunch!” Who is who is for you to guess. Jen has her ideas but, truthfully, the roles change from day to day and revision to revision.

Through all the changes, though, the vision for our chamber musical has remained the same. Plot points, after taking a few, brief holidays from our instincts, are now nearly identical to the first draft but clarity about the show's characters, motivations, and exactly how the events unfold has helped us make it a better piece of theatre.

Editing a musical is kind of like playing Jenga: once you move or change one element of dialogue or plot, the stability of an entire scene or even the entire musical is temporarily at stake.  You have to be willing to go back and pick up all the pieces to make the entire structure stronger.

And we have.  Many, many times.  

We thought we'd give you an insight into our editing process, using one of our songs: "I Saw You in the Stone." 

Initially, this song was slated for Act I, Scene 4.  Pygmalion has been asked to create a statue of Venus in time for her feast day.  A mysterious serving girl (Venus in disguise) invites herself into the artist's home to make sure everything is going according to plan. As Pygmalion becomes obsessed with his work, his best friend, Paphos, who has seen through Venus’ not-so-clever disguise, urges Pygmalion's to finish it quickly. Through "I Saw Her in the Stone," Pygmalion explains why he is so taken with his work, which he calls Galatea.

PAPHOS
Am I missing something? Just call her "Untitled" and stick her in the temple.  No one will know the difference.

PYGMALION
I will know the difference.

PAPHOS
(urgently, near panic)
So make yourself a copy.  Or make something else.  Everything you make is good.

PYGMALION
Good isn't the point.

I CAN SHAPE A FACE
BEGUILING TO THE GODS.
WHAT'S MISSING IS THE LIFE
BEHIND THE EYES.
BUT WHEN I SAW THE STONE,
I KNEW SHE WAS INSIDE.
I SAW HER IN THE STONE,
AND SHE REACHED OUT TO ME.

ANYTHING I MAKE
IS STILLBORN IN MY HAND;
A CHILD WITHOUT A VOICE
TO CALL MY NAME.
BUT SHE'S THE ONE WHO LIVED,
SHE'S THE ONE WHO CALLED.
I SAW HER IN THE STONE
AND SHE CRIED OUT TO ME.

I LISTENED.
SHE APPEARED.
I WAITED
AND SHE HAPPENED TO ME.
SHE CHOSE ME.
I'M HER MUSE.
I STEPPED ASIDE
AND LET HER COME TO BE

PAPHOS
I don't know what to say.

PYGMALION
Say you understand.

PAPHOS
I don't.  I don't get why this is different from anything else you've made.  Why won't you let me see her?

(He reaches for the cloth covering Galatea)

PYGMALION
No!  Don't touch her.

PAPHOS
Pygmalion, she's not real.  She can never be real.

PYGMALION
(sings)
WHO ARE YOU TO SAY
WHAT'S GOOD OR WHAT IS REAL?
EVERYTHING I AM I SEE IN HER.
WHO ARE YOU TO SAY?
I SAW HER IN THE STONE.
I SAW HER IN THE STONE
AND SHE'S THE BEST OF ME.
SHE'S BETTER THAN YOU.
BETTER THAN ME.
BETTER THAN VENUS!

(Venus enters with a vengeance)

This song didn't work for several reasons.  First, we felt the it was trying to do too many things at once. The scene needed to be a heated argument which led to Venus' entrance but the song felt like an apology. It ends with Pygmalion angrily pushing his best friend away; but the last bit felt like it could be an entirely different song. We had to pick one or the other – the rejection or the apology. In this moment, they can’t exist side-by-side. Sceond, if Pygmalion apologizes, what is there for Paphos to fight against? Paphos is so afraid Venus will be angry if the statue isn’t finished that there just isn't room for him to sit and listen to his friend feel sorry for himself. Finally, it was too wimpy for Pygmalion. As a team, we were still struggling with different perceptions of Pygmalion’s artistic struggle: one of us felt he was in doubt of his skill, the other that he was in full rejection of his past. The latter makes him a more aggressive, pro-active character - even if his decisions are wrong-headed.

So, we thought the song would fit better after Venus' revelation. Angry with Pygmalion’s claim that the new work is “better than Venus,” the goddess reveals herself in a blazing tirade laced with threat. She indicts him for not meeting her demands, so Pygmalion must work to keep the statue from being destroyed and gain her understanding. He must apologize.

The song was moved after Venus' tirade. The main difference was this new B section but the rest of lyric remained largely the same.

I ANSWERED WHEN SHE CALLED.
THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
SHE WANTED ME TO SET HER FREE.
SHE WANTED TO BE NEW
AND AS SHE CHANGED, I REALIZED
I WAS CHANGING TOO.

It also had a new coda in the final A section:

WHO AM I TO SAY 
WHAT'S GOOD OR WHAT IS REAL? 
EVERYTHING I AM I SEE IN HER. 
WHO AM I TO SAY? 
I SAW HER IN THE STONE. 
I SAW HER IN THE STONE AND SHE'S THE BEST OF ME.

I ANSWERED WHEN SHE CALLED
THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO...

But Venus is not a patient goddess – we didn’t imagine she would be able to sit through an entire AABA song. She’d be more likely to turn Pygmalion into a pillar of salt two phrases in.  At this point we decided that although we liked the song, we were better off challenging ourselves to let it go and create something new. Despite it’s lovely central metaphor and a sumptuous melody, we opted to consider it a trunk song and leave it at that.
In January 2009 we, along with our fantastic director Laura Josepher, went to Syracuse, NY (brrrr....) for five weeks to take part in the Syracuse University New Play Workshop.  We made extensive changes to the show with the help of a student cast and crew.  When we got to the last scene of the musical we realized the conflict between Pygmalion and Galatea was potent enough to warrant a song and that Pygmalion needed to apologize to her.  It dawned on us: what about that song we wrote months ago?  Wouldn't that fit here?  It was worth a try.

Earlier in the story, the year-old Galatea runs away after Pygmalion's assertion that she exists merely for his pleasure. When she returns in the final scene, after a night in the woods, he tries to explain why he's been so over-protective. In this draft, Pygmalion had not told Galatea, until this moment, that he had created her and that she was brought to life by Venus. Again, with just a few minor revisions, the song became a humbling explanation – a plea for understanding.

PYGMALION
I was working on a statue of Venus.  But I couldn't finish it.  There was something wrong.  I knew it was something else. 

GALATEA
Who?

PYGMALION
You.

I COULD SHAPE A FACE
BEGUILING TO THE GODS.
AND NEVER SEE THE LIFE BEHIND THE EYES.
BUT WHEN I SAW THE STONE
I KNEW YOU WERE INSIDE.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE
AND YOU REACHED OUT TO ME.

ANYTHING I MADE
WAS STILLBORN IN MY HAND.
A CHILD WITHOUT A VOICE TO CALL MY NAME.
BUT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LIVED.
YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CALLED.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE
AND YOU CRIED OUT TO ME.

I ANSWERED WHEN YOU CALLED.
THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
YOU WANTED ME TO SET YOU FREE.
YOU WANTED TO BE NEW
AND AS YOU CHANGED, I REALIZED
I WAS CHANGING TOO.

PYGMALION
Galatea, you brought meaning to my life.

GALATEA
Am I....?  Then am I not real?  Am I not a person?

PYGMALION
You have always been real to me.

WHO AM I TO SAY
WHAT'S GOOD OR WHAT IS REAL?
EVERYTHING I AM I SEE IN YOU.
WHO AM I TO SAY?
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE AND YOU'RE THE BEST OF ME.
I SAW YOU, TEA.
I HAD TO SET YOU FREE...

When we saw this in the workshop, we thought: Oh, this is so much better! But there was a nagging problem: Galatea's dramatic arc was merely a sketch at this point. But after some probing questions from our plucky student Galatea, Lauren Devine, we decided to try something radical.

In a furious four-day rewrite of Act II (which we did over the phone from two different cities...), we amended Galatea's story: we decided to give Galatea the knowledge, right from the start, that she was Pygmalion’s creation. The conflict, then, would come from Pygmalion’s treatment of her, not from her discovery of the secret he'd been keeping.

When we made this decision, suddenly, like that delicate game of Jenga, the setting of the lyric no longer felt right. The song still felt like so much self-pity. The accompaniment was too plodding - forecasting the outcome rather than giving Pygmalion the desperate hope that he can make up for his bad behavior.

We liked the song before, but it had no drive – musically it was rapturous, but stagnant. Problem was, something about the lyrics felt right (even though we had thrown the song out months earlier.) So we thought it would be a good experiment to see if a new musical undercurrent would give it the tension and urgency it needed. This was a big challenge for David. Tom had to make still more revisions, all very minor (which are, in some ways, more irritating that writing a totally new song) but David had to completely rethink the music in his head. He had to step away from an idea – a good idea, a solid musical idea – and challenge his expectation of the outcome. 

So, here's the FINAL version (God help us...), with a near-identical melodic line, a few changed lyrics and a different time signature and key. Emotionally, it feels like a completely different song.

GALATEA
I was thinking about it all night and --

PYGMALION
Téa, I was wrong.

GALATEA
I don't belong to you.

PYGMALION
I know. I shouldn't have said that.

GALATEA
Then why did you?

PYGMALION
Because I'm afraid of losing you.

GALATEA
Because you treat me like a possession.

PYGMALION
I never meant it that way. But you called out to me. You spoke to me and I was the only one who heard you.


I COULD SHAPE A FACE
BEGUILING TO THE GODS
AND NEVER SEE THE LIFE BEHIND THE EYES.
BUT WHEN I SAW THE STONE
I KNEW YOU WERE INSIDE.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE
AND YOU REACHED OUT TO ME.

ANYTHING I MADE
WAS STILLBORN IN MY HAND.
A CHILD WITHOUT A VOICE TO CALL MY NAME.
BUT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LIVED.
YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CALLED.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE
AND YOU CRIED OUT TO ME.

I ANSWERED WHEN YOU CALLED
THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO.
YOU WANTED ME
TO SET YOU FREE
YOU WANTED TO BE NEW.
AND AS YOU CHANGED
I REALIZED
I WAS CHANGING TOO...

GALATEA
But you want me to stay as I was.

PYGMALION
I want us to grow together.

GALATEA
How can that happen if you don't see me?  I'll never be real to you.

PYGMALION
WHO AM I TO SAY
WHAT'S GOOD OR WHAT IS REAL?
EVERYTHING I AM I SEE IN YOU.
WHO AM I TO SAY?
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE.
I SAW YOU IN THE STONE
AND YOU'RE THE BEST OF ME.
I SAW YOU, TEA.
AND YOU'RE THE BEST OF ME.
FORGIVE ME...

With this song now properly (re)written, Pygmalion & Galatea's combined dramatic arc felt complete. The last scene now had the tension we desire. If you want to hear Galatea's response, you'll have to buy a ticket when the show opens!

Editing is a constant when you're writing.  We're lucky to be pretty good self-editors, able to sever our emotional ties to the show and discern what's not working.  We're also blessed to have a director who's acted as our dramaturg - Laura has helped us answer so many questions as we continue to find the best way to let the audience into our special world.  

It may have been Tennessee Williams who said, "The show is finished when you're tired of rewriting it." But being tired of rewriting, doesn't mean we'll ever stop doing it - or at least searching for perfection each time we look at our work again. Rewrites may be forever, but there's a time when self-discipline has to stay the writer's hand. Instead of endless rewrites on the same project, start something new. For now, FALLING TO EARTH is in a holding pattern until we find a production or another major workshop. We hope that won't be an eternity away.

Friday, June 10, 2011

BAIT n' SWISH: Bad Dates to Outrageous Comedy

When David began working on BAIT, he had no clue the one-act comedy would win multiple awards, enjoy several successful runs and launch a fulfilling long-term collaboration for himself, Tom Gualtieri, and director Laura Josepher. It just seemed like a good idea: you go on so many bad dates, you might as well mine the material and write a show. But writing the 2-actor, 28-character comedy about gay speed dating got David and Tom all the way to Estonia and back, and has now spawned a full evening of outrageous characters with the addition of SWISH.

BAIT is about two friends - Justin and Charlie - who attend a “Quick Fix” speed dating event, only to find out their feelings for each other are not what they thought. The show premiered at the 2006 Columbus National Gay & Lesbian Theater Festival where it won six awards, including: Best Featured Actor (Tom), Best Direction (Laura), Best Script, Best Comedy, Audience Favorite and Best of the Festival. If you haven't seen our hilarious video promo, here's the link:

 
BAIT also played sold-out houses at the Philadelphia Gay & Lesbian Theater Festival and the Left Out Festival at Stage Left Studio in New York (where it extended three times) in Spring, 2008. Since then, we have had the pleasure of performing the show on Atlantis Events cruises, which have taken us around the world.

BAIT has received stellar reviews, including this one from nytheatre.com:

“Tom Gualtieri and David Sisco play roughly 14 characters apiece and do so with smarts, energy, and originality. They jump from character to character, manipulating their bodies, their voices, their faces, and their personalities without ever veering into the realm of cliché. Their character work ranges from the profanely obvious to the sweetly subtle and the duo works wonderfully together, nimble enough to allow the other's characters to take necessary focus and generous enough to let go of the spotlight to let the other performer shine.”

David recently completed BAIT's companion piece, SWISH, which brings another twenty-odd quirky characters to the stage.  In this show, Charlie moves to Boise, Idaho ostensibly to focus on his writing (he’s a novelist), but gets sucked into helping create a gay bar (I bet you can guess its name) with the help of a nosey neighbor, Delores Kinney. 

SWISH is also a multi-character play, but this time Tom will be playing all the other characters while David reprises his role as Charlie. Is Tom up for the challenge? Of course. “I told David if he didn’t give me ALL the parts in this show that our collaboration would be over. He’s so generous and he obliged,” Tom quips. “There’s a scene where I have to play about ten drag queens in the course of a minute. Careful what you wish for! Hey, at least I’m not hosting the Oscars!” 

SWISH was presented as a staged reading at this year’s Left Out Festival. BAIT n' SWISH will be performed together for the first time at Stage Left this fall starting Thursday, October 13. Keep your eyes peeled for upcoming dates and a new video promo!