Playwright Wanted, Clean and Considerate

So when you are a playwright and you want someone to give you money, like perhaps a theater, or a foundation, or a wealthy friend, you are asked to submit an artist statement with your application. Sometimes this is a free-form situation. "Tell us why you want this." Sometimes this is a little more specific. "Tell us why you want this, and also how you are planning to change the face of theater as we know it, and also about a time that a hat made you SO angry."

Of course this makes sense. They're not going to hand these things out to any old writer. You need to make a case for yourself, and aritst statements give you a chance to make that case. So I do not mind them, not really. But there have been many nights, many long dark cold cold nights, when I have stared at my computer screen thinking, I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to describe myself in a way that makes me seem smart and clever and talented and ambitious and humble and good-looking and fascinating and good to animals and and and and.

I mentioned my fear of artists statements to a friend who is preparing to apply to grad school (and therefore has many a personal statement in her future). She sympathized. "It would be great if it could be more like answering a Craigslist Ad for a new apartment," she said. "No pets, non-smoker, hard worker."

And she's right. Except in that case, the requests for proposals might start to look a little...

SUNNY LARGE CHEERY FELLOWSHIP IN MAJOR CITY

HIGH ARTISTIC CEILINGS
ALL NEW COMMISSION
NEWLY RENOVATED EXPECTATIONS
INCLUDES BRAGGING RIGHTS
L@@KS GREAT ON RESUME
PET FRIENDLY

NO CALLS

So maybe we're fine.

What I Doodled to Your Play

Every Wednesday evening Youngblood meets to discuss the plays we've seen, read the plays we've written, and sometimes we doodle during these plays. Though some may think these doodlers are doing everything in their power not to listen to the plays, studies show that doodling wards off daydreaming and that doodlers often pay better attention than non-doodlers.

The following is a set of doodles inspired by the April fools brunch plays of Clare Barron and Leah Nanako Winkler. Clare's play HOOVER is about a lesbian couple and their son Hoover, Leah Nanako's play ARCH NEMESIS tells the story of a girl plagued by the evil deeds of her next door neighbor and how she retaliates. We also heard Lydia Blaisdell's full-length about a man obsessed with dolls in the early 20th century. And then there was the other crap swimming around our brains while listened to these plays.

If these doodles have inspired you to doodle, post that doodle here. And doodle on.

Top Left - Eric Dufault

Bottom Left - Emily Chadick Weiss

Right - Clare Barron

Dylan Dawson
Dylan Dawson
Dylan Dawson
Dylan Dawson

Dylan Dawson Eric Dufault

Air New Smyrna Radio

Mmm...Mmm...It's that blue time of night when the lonely first hits. But you're not quite sure what it is. Mmm...





This past fall I had a play featured in #serials with our friends at the Flea Theatre. After a wacky and weird six week run, the resident directors decided to take this play about an air traffic controller/radio show host in a small central Florida town to the airwaves. The result is what will be a monthly interview show with playwrights and theatre artists promoting new work and hoping to find some achy truth deep with in themselves through our host, Dan.

Our first episode features our own Rob Askins on the run from the law after being possessed by Tyrone, the evil sock puppet he created in his play "Hand to God", back again at EST. Take a listen, and raise a lone gator's claw.

Air New Smyrna Radio Episode 1

The Share sitcom featuring Ensemble Studio Theatre Actors - written by Emily Chadick Weiss

Check out the TRAILER and WEBISODES about being allergic to kittens and living in a closet

https://www.youtube.com/user/TheShareSitcom/featured

The Share
a half hour sitcom
written by Emily Chadick Weiss
directed by Christina Roussos

starring
Steven Boyer, Lucy DeVito, William Jackson Harper, Julie Fitzpatrick, Katie Kreisler, Robert Askins, Maureen Sebastian, Scott Sowers, Megan Tusing, and Lance Rubin

In Which, I Unknowingly Deceive My Grandfather: A Brunch Story

Here's a funny story that was actually not funny but vaguely traumatizing at the time:

RJ sent out an email on Feb 21 announcing 7 Sloan Brunch finalists. I was one of the 7 finalists. I also, for some reason, didn't realize that "finalist" meant, "next round," and not "hooray, you got it!"

"Hooray, I got it!" I happily squeaked to the person I was on the phone with at the time, which happened to be my Grandmother, who didn't know anything about brunches, or Youngblood, or Sloan.

Except, of course, no one had gotten anything yet, except for the chance to submit revisions and hope for the best. Whatever, fine. I turned in my revisions, and waited.

That weekend, as it just so happened, I went to visit my Grandparents in California.

"HERE'S THE BIG PRIZE WINNER!" My Grandmother greeted me at the door, having in her mind probably equated the Sloan Brunch with a Nobel Prize for chemistry or something.

"Oh! Uhm, haha! Actually....no. I'm a....finalist." I told her, sheepishly.

"So they didn't pick yours?" She asked me, concerned.

"Uh, no, not, not quite. But, maybe! But, no."

I explained to her the misunderstanding, she got it, we moved on.

FAST FORWARD TO DINNER:

My entire family is sitting around the table, including my 91 year-old Grandfather, a former surgeon, and probably the closest thing to a scientist we have. Though he could still probably recite the entire Periodic Table of Elements, his hearing is very poor, which means most dinner-table small talk is beyond him.

Suddenly, after sitting silently through most of the meal, my Grandfather shakily rises to his feet and lifts his glass of Martinelli's into the air. The rest of the family falls silent and looks to him, surprised.

"I hear we have a PRIZE WINNER dining with us tonight!" He says, staring at me.

"Oh god," I whimpered, and looked to my Dad in panic as my little brother started snickering.

My Grandfather, oblivious, continued:

"She wrote an article about science, and got recognition for it," he said, no doubt mentally picturing a 30-page treatise in Scientific American, or something.

"Well, actually, I --"

My Grandmother and my Dad waved their arms to cut me off.

"It's too complicated to explain!" my Dad said, raising his glass.

"We are very, very proud of you," my Grandfather finished.

So I sat there, awkwardly, as my family toasted me for something that I had not actually done yet, and might not do at all. I wanted to cry.

I spent the rest of the trip wracked with guilt, obsessively checking my email. Before that dinner, I wanted to do the Sloan Brunch because it would be fun and because I enjoyed writing my piece. But now? After my 91 year old Grandfather said he was proud of me? My karma was at stake.

So, when I finally (FIN. AL. LY.) got word from RJ that they were gonna perform my play, I practically fainted from the relief. The toast was not in vain! Just a little premature. And, uhm, not for a scientific article. BUT WHATEVER.

So, in short, this was a fairly traumatic introduction to the world of Youngblood Brunches, but I am thrilled thrilled thrilled to be participating in this one.

And! I am never telling my Grandparents anything ever again.

I just don't think I can take the pressure.

The Numbers Don't Lie

When will the theatre learn?

Ryan Dowler Presents The ESTeen Youngerblog: Wisdom on Life, Love, and the Theatre from My Junior High Diary

Part Five: On Keeping A Positive Attitude

I found my Junior High diary.

This is what's in it:

2-2-96

Me and Theo Henry started a Jazz band, “The Luckyspoon Jazz Band.” Cool, huh?! Theo wrote the first piece himself. Here are our members –

Trumpet – Ryan D.

Trumpet – Theo H.

Trumpet – Jared B.

Trombone – Theo H.

Trombone – Brady M.

Piano – Robby A.

Sax – Sara J.

Those are the only definite members. I feel really happy/confident about this band. I really hope it will work.

2-3-96

I really wanna write a song! I wanna write a million songs. And I can. I mean lyrics, tunes, everything . . . and I will. No joke. I’m gonna write some songs! ! !

2-15-96

Theo is working on the first WEEZER song, changing it to instrumental. I can’t wait.

3-16-96

Me and Theo are both working on maybe our best song yet for the band, 6Naked. The secret behind the song is that it’s about the “Blossom” character Six. There are NO lyrics. There is an instrumental solo for each major part of the body: the legs, hips, stomach, chest, neck, lips, eyes, and hair. The legs and neck are the same percussion part. Don’t take us for perverts. It’s only a song about beauty. The foremost symbol of beauty – the woman. I hope it will come out as beautifully as I hope/expect.

3-7-96

The band is taking off slowly. Very slowly. Very very slowly. Theo’s working on the Trumpet 1 part on “Buddy Holly”, Robby’s working on the piano part for “Untitled”, Shaun hasn’t gotten his drum set, Brad Davis doesn’t know if he can join. Theo’s working on the wrong songs. We need to be working on Lump, 1 . . 2 . . 3 . . 4, and Kitty. Faster, we need to work FASTER. Theo needs a more positive attitude.

Perfect Crime

Every Youngblood session begins with a little something we call What Have We Seen, where we discuss the various shows we caught during the last week.

We've never once talked about a play called Perfect Crime, which is the longest running play in NYC.

I've never seen it. I've never met anybody who has ever seen it. Yet it's been running since 1987, which is longer than certain members of Youngblood have been alive. The lead actress, Catherine Russell, has been in the entire run, in the same role, night after night.

I've got to check it out. I love crime dramas and I must see what this is. Who's with me?

Telling Stories

Storytelling matters.

That's why California's 9th Circuit Court of Appeals timed its decision on Prop 8 to coincide with Youngblood's queer brunch. Because the judges knew that the legal future of gay marriage will depend less on their ruling than on the stories we choose to tell ourselves about, well, love.

I'm perpetually delighted, surprised, and moved by the messy, sensitive, wild, and quiet stories I get to hear each week in Youngblood.

So, in that vein -- the vein of messy, particular stories -- I hope you'll check out this bit of storytelling from my non-playwright life as a sometimes rather confused homosexual.

Growlers with Fowler and Dowler!!

Hey guys!!



Growlers with Fowler and Dowler has been launched!

Growlers with Fowler and Dowler? What is that you say? Well let me tell you. It's when I, Darcy Fowler, and fellow youngblooder Ryan Dowler, drink a full growler each while interviewing a playwright. What happens?? Well I certainly didn't remember until I watched this video.

This week we interview the glorious and luminescent playwright Angela Hanks, in a post discussion of her play "Big Tex," part of Ensemble Studio Theatre's Unfiltered! Enjoy.

LinkThinks - Excel

We all know that balancing our playwriting lives with our work lives can be difficult. I know that when I'm at work, the last thing I want is for anybody to see that I'm writing a play. But sometimes submission deadlines cannot wait. So what do I?

I write plays in Microsoft Excel and you can too. It looks like legit office work, but it's really a script. See above.

See what I did?

Go and do likewise, office workers. It'll be our secret.

Year of the Rooster: New Saturday Matinee at 2:00!!

Facts about Cockfighting

In ancient Syria and Sumatra, the fighting-cock was worshipped as a deity

During the time of King Henry VIII, cockfighting became a national sport. Exclusive schools were required to teach students the points of cockfighting, such as breeding, walking, and conditioning of the gamecock.

At the height of cockfighting’s popularity in England, even the clergy encouraged the sport. Church yards and inside of the churches were used as an arena for cockfighting.

Cockfighting was practiced by George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Andrew Jackson. During these years, cockfights were even held in the committee rooms of the President.

In his teens, Abraham Lincoln was a cockfighting referee. It’s through his involvement that he is said to have received his nickname “Honest Abe”.

It is said that the fighting-cock almost became the national emblem. It lost by one vote to the American eagle.

Youngblood’s cockfighting extravaganza “Year of the Rooster” has a new performance this Saturday at 2:00 PM!

What’s that you say? I am intrigued, but need a little something to “sweeten the deal”? Perhaps a knickknack, made by you, Eric Dufault, personally, at Staples on 80^th and Broadway?

Come see “Year of the Rooster” (Saturday at 2!!!) and receive a “Masters of Gamecocking” trading card!! FOR FREE!!! COLLECT ALL NINE!!!!

These will be worth lots of money, probably.

Occupational Hazards

So I wrote this play, "In Memory of Julie Simmons" that is currently running as part of Unfiltered at EST. If you haven't seen it yet, you should come see it tonight or tomorrow at 7:00 before it is gone forever.

It's been a really great process. My actors and director and designers have made this thing into a really beautiful play and I am super proud of it.

But there's been one sort of horrible side effect to the process. And that is this: This play is about teenage girls, and the dialogue is very teenage girly. At some point a lot of my rewrites turned into saying things like: "um. maybe we should have her say 'like' here instead of here."

And then suddenly I realized I was using like in my writing outside of this play, like, ALL THE TIME. And I can't stop! I mean, I'm not going to pretend I didn't SAY like way too much before working on this play - but until recently it had stayed out of my written communications. But not anymore. Here, I'll show you what I mean via excerpts from a selection of emails and facebook comments and chats from today. Just today. This is just some of what has come out of my fingers in the last three hours:

Posted on facebook: that shit is like, affordable!

Via interoffice chat: I would just do yoga and write and maybe like, cook.

Via interoffice chat: she like, didn't even say hi to me

Via email: apparently i was like, less than 24 hours too late.

Via email: Just in case I hadn't like totally confirmed that it sounds great - I am confirming that now.

Anyway. That's like, something that's going on with me right now.

I've clearly sacrificed a lot for this play. So please come see it!

Unfiltered 2012: YEAR OF THE ROOSTER by Eric Dufaut

UNFILTERED 2012 WILL KILL THE SUN!

Year of the Rooster by Eric Dufault
directed by John Giampietro
with Denny Bess, Delphi Harrington, Thomas Lyons,
Bobby Moreno, and Laura Ramadei

Odysseus Rex is a champion.
He is his trainer’s greatest hope.
He is his opponents’ worst nightmare.
One day he will destroy the sun.
He is a rooster.

Come see it: 1/26, 2/3, 2/4 @ 7pm & 1/28 @ 2pm
Tickets $20. Buy them here.

(Also if you come to this show you will get a limited edition "Masters of Gamecocking" trading card. This is an impossible-to-believe deal, but I encourage you to believe it. Believe in us.)

Now playing:

• In Memory of Julie Simmons by Erica Saleh, directed by Tamara Fisch. Two performances left: 1/27 & 1/28 @ 7pm

All shows at Ensemble Studio Theatre, 549 West 52nd Street, 2nd Floor (between 10th & 11th Aves).

Did you know that! You can! see 2 Unfiltered plays for $30!
Also there are $10 student and senior tickets available, just show ID at the door.

When this is over you will write a book about it. I'm not going to tell you what you will do with the book after you have written the book. But if you come to these plays, you will know. You will absolutely know.

Masters of Gamecocking: Erica "Sly" Saleh

Erica “Sly” Saleh named her rooster after a dead teenage girl.

The girl’s family has pressed legal charges. It’s a big courtroom drama thing. But Erica doesn’t give a shit.

Some say the spirit of the young girl has gone on to inhabit the gamecock’s body. Julie Simmons preens itself for long hours, its crows sound disturbingly human. And then, when it’s thrown in the pit, Julie Simmons goes NUTS.

After all, teenage girls are MEAN.

And when they grow into women like “Sly” Saleh, they get even meaner.

It’s a popular legend that it’s impossible to kill Julie Simmons. Beat it, burn it, drown it, it’ll keep on crying its teenage cry.

The thing leaks an endless supply of blood! Break its neck and it’ll snap itself back into place! The thing doesn’t die! Maybe it’s already dead? Is this a rooster-girl-ghost?

Spooky, man.

See Julie Simmons: Friday and Saturday! In all honesty, it’s emotionally honest and structurally compelling!