We have three directors in Bart's rehearsals. Dorothy, his Assistant Director, sits to his right. I sit behind him, an Observing Director, And Matt, a part-time Observing Director, sits to his left. We form a little half-circle. Bart spends a lot of time on his feet out with the actors, so sometimes we talk.
It's the first time I have experienced this, a community of directors.
With three of us, we are an entity unto ourselves. Dorothy is young, quiet, tiny, meticulous, conscientious, and has always worked in theatre. Matt is twice as big as she is, young, with a massive face and black glasses, incredibly quick. He looks like a law student and office-manages a law office as his day job. And me, I'm sort of the -- well, my actual image is I'm the biggest woman in a gospel choir, the one who can sing. I'm middle-aged, heavier and slower than them, and more experienced. I share the quick mind of Matt, and the soulfulness of Dorothy, but they outpace me in their own Gifts and experiences.
We make a terrific combo.
This is what got me onto that "gaggle of geese" site, by the way. I was wondering what you call a group of directors. We are not naturally groupy people. We tend to be prickly, sharp, possessive, mistrustful. Oldest-Child in spades. It's the same quality I have found in ice hockey captains or program managers, for that matter -- anyone who captains 30-to-75-to-250-person teams. The 13 program managers in our then-Kids group at Microsoft looked like a Benetton ad -- white, black, asian, indian, male, female, young, old, deaf, hearing. "A Council of Eagles," I thought.
That's what theatre directors remind me of. Since we are not fully formed yet, I thought I'd call us a Beak of Directors. Beaked, peremptory, but still in the nest.
Three is a fantastic number. You can cast any three women as the witches in Macbeth, and it always works. There is enough mystery in any woman to make three an infinitude. (This isn't true for the Furies, by the way; you actually have to cast for the Fury quality, and get the ages kind of right.) Once, bored at a choir concert, I studied all 200 singers to see who I would cast as the witches. I chose two men and a woman. I do think you have to have at least one woman; you need that far-side-of-the-moon quality.
Three is the number of graduate directors Yale School of Drama takes.
I had the urge a year ago to set up a Director's Lab. Now I feel even more that it is a good idea. It needs money, time, and planning -- but even with just the three of us, I can feel how rich it would be. We all like good writing. Matt likes modern absurdists; I like old masters; Dorothy likes original works and musicals. We're all smart, all competent, all learning. It would be fun. That's the bottom line -- it would be fun to make theatre, observe each other's rehearsals, laugh and talk and share. We'd get better so much faster. Even if we just took classes from each other, it would be fantastic. Matt can teach Durrenmott, I'll teach Chekhov, Dorothy can teach Original Works.
It's ironic that the people who receive the best directors' education -- get exposed to the widest variety, experience the most techniques, can tell you what works -- are the actors. Directors rarely see each other's work.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
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