Archive for February, 2010
I have to admit, it’s not the first time I’ve heard about this… A few years ago, I attended a Dramatists’ Guild talk dealing with this exact issue, packaged as a way for playwrights to make a living in between productions, and a good one at that.
It’s troubling though that it’s now showing up in places like the Journal. Though it’s a sad reality that playwrights aren’t paid as well as some of their counterparts, articles like this make it sound okay, because they can moonlight — instead of trying to figure out why there’s this disparity and closing the gap.
And, as pointed out in the article, TV might be benefiting from the influx of playwrights writing for TV, theatre might not be benefit in the same way.
Theatre is a different animal… It’s about dialogue and character development. It’s also about encapsulating a story to bring out the most dramatic elements of that story. More than anything, it’s all about the WORDS and SOUNDS.
TV is about visuals, locations, and telling a good story, but we get to know characters over seasons, and so the way stories are told are just different.
I remember very well when I was workshopping a play a few years ago, when I was relying on stage directions. I was told by an actress, “In theatre, you can’t control what people are looking at, no matter how good the picture you’re painting on stage. They’re not staring at a screen, it’s live… and you don’t have any control when it’s live. The audience could be looking at their hands, their feet, the ceiling… you need to make sure the words are there so they hear them.”
It was some of the best (play)writing advice I’ve ever heard.
I’m all for people being multi-talented, and for artists being paid well for their work, but suggesting that one can jump willy-nilly between one discipline and the next is irresponsible.
–Sue
February 26th, 2010
We had been striking out lately, hubby and I, with our movies. Tonight, we were especially glad and pleasantly surprised by what we saw in “The Invention of Lying.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect. The commercial highlighted one of the biggest throwaway jokes in the movie. (Gervais tells some hot blond that she needs to have sex with him to save the world.) And honestly, I was scared it was going to be a lot of that stuff.
It wasn’t. This movie actually had a lot of heart… and insight.
There was a wonderful scene where Mark (Gervais) is sitting with Anna (Jennifer Garner) on a park bench. He points out what he sees when looking at people. What he shows her, by sharing what he sees, is how easy it is to look past the obvious to see something more — to see the beauty in people.
Mark asks Anna to look at a couple sitting on another bench in the park and tell him what she sees. Her reply is cut and dry (not to mention cynical) “Two nerds in hats on a bench… losers.”
“Look again,” he says, “they’re holding hands. They’re happy. They’re in love.”
She later says, “I like how you see the world.”
It’s a challenge to see the good…but this movie points it out in the most simple and beautiful ways.
–Sue
February 25th, 2010
Lorenz Hart (right) with Richard Rodgers in 1936.
The title of this blog has two sources I know: An old Toyota campaign (and I’m sure they currently wish that’s what people would think of when thinking of them), and the song “Dancing on the Ceiling” (its a lyric). (I love that song for the strong image of someone so happy they’re actually upside down, defying gravity, dancing on a ceiling… and it’s a memorable song from my childhood in the 80’s.)
When I sat down to work on lyrics for a bridge in the finale, they just felt right… simple and easy, they said what I wanted to say in a few different ways… and it’s through meaning that you build depth.
So much of writing, or just about anything in life really, is tuning into ‘that feeling’ and trusting it’s right.
–Sue
P.S.– An interesting twist for this post… Apparently, the legendary songwriting team of Rodgers and Hart has a song called “Dancing on the Ceiling” in the 30’s as part of the musical film “Evergreen”. A good omen, I hope!
February 24th, 2010
I was combing through a script I wrote a few years ago recently… and at the end of every scene, I had a lighting cue — whether it was dimming the lights or fading the lights.
I realize that I was writing “The End” at the end of each scene doing that.
Of course, I took most of the unnecessary cues out, but I found I didn’t need to change much else at the end of each scene. The scenes ended the way they needed to, but this time, I trusted that, whereas (I think subconsciously) I didn’t before.
Who knew lighting cues would shed so much light on my development?
–Sue
February 23rd, 2010
You’d never think it, but a single line can make a world of difference. It can clear something up, introduce something new, lay an issue to rest…
A good director and colleague pointed this out to me a few years ago, with a much earlier incarnation of “Another Place In Time”, and I find it even more true with a straight play, as I did when I did my final once over of “Business” today.
Without that line to tie things together, you might have some audience members scratching their heads… and once you lose someone, it’s hard to get them back on track, as is the nature of theatre — you can’t rewind. On the other hand, you also don’t want to spend an hour that takes a minute to explain… A single line can make sure you have everyone on the same page and keep the through-line of the story going.
Even after all these years, I’m still amazed at the power of words… especially just the right words at the right time. It really is like capturinglightening in a bottle.
–Sue
February 22nd, 2010
I had a long day today… a good day, a productive day, but a long one nonetheless. I needed a way to center myself, and I did it reading a magazine.
It was a wonderful reminder of the power of words. It’s different from watching TV or a movie, because you’re transported in a different way. Your mind is engaged in not only comprehending, but also in imagining and envisioning. By going outside yourself for that period of time when you’re reading, you actually come back to who you are because you’re engaging and stimulating parts of you that may not be engaged or stimulated the same way during the rest of your day/week/month or however often you read.
I know I might sound like a Luddite when I say this, but, you can’t get this feeling reading a computer screen or using a Kindle. Pick up a book or magazine, and you’ll see what I mean.
–Sue
February 19th, 2010
When I was in grad school, it took a lot to get through some days. Willing myself to write was excruciating some days… because I was scared of getting it “wrong”.
One day, a benevolent voice whispered in the back of my brain, “Write it down today, get it Right tomorrow.”
From that day forward, I had it as a constant reminder, as it became my screensaver, and stayed my screensaver for a few years.
It’s been many years since those days… I’ve written countless drafts of more than a few plays and songs. And yet, the fear of getting it “wrong” is still very real most days. (These days, I find it easier to push through that fear, and I look forward to writing most days now. It’s a challenge more than a chore.)
So this morning, after grappling with a lyric and getting nowhere yesterday, I wrote a really BAD lyric today. I actually laughed out loud after I had it down on paper and tried to convince my sister it was actually a good lyric. She laughed too, once I admitted that it sounded funny.
That laugh set me free to find the next lyric, which is the working lyric for now. Not sure if it’s “it”, but it’s no longer laughable.
The best part, I don’t have to keep carrying around the burden of creating that “perfect” lyric because I already wrote a crappy one, had a good laugh, and moved on.
Just a reminder of why they call writing a “craft”… it takes a lot of time to shape.
–Sue
February 18th, 2010
We’re at a point now with the finale of “Another Place In Time” where we’re literally a few precious words, a few short bars away from the finish line.
I’ve figured out what I want to say, but I haven’t figured out just how I’m going to say it. My biggest fear, “a world of cheese” as hubby put it. Velveeta spewing from the stage just isn’t gonna cut it.
Hopes and dreams have been done before… but what else is there in life? Stocks and bonds? Not so much…
It will hit me when I let it go…
–Sue
February 17th, 2010
I had a math tutor in high school. He was a sweet older man; I think his name was Mr. Clifford (like the big red dog).
His main help was pointing out something I already kinda knew: I tend to skip steps.
I have such a clear picture of where I want to be that I end up skipping steps along the way to get to the finish line.
Unfortunately, I sometimes do that with my writing as well. Most of today was spent going back over those steps I glossed over.
The difference between art and math is that in art, there’s no “right” answer at the end… So I’m left having to figure it out along the way… but the journey is what makes it worth while.
–Sue
February 16th, 2010
This Valentine’s Day I did what I love, with the man I love, we took in a show.
It was a family musical, and the audience was varied — many sitting on booster seats. The set and story were simple, and the ultimate message sweet, and true.
Amongst seat shifting and whispers, the one song that summed up the entire protagonist’s arc, and transcended every other song in the show, did not garner the attention it should.
It wasn’t just an issue of timing… It was also an issue of finding that sweet spot, and meeting your audience where they are. The last song that brought tears to my eyes and the eyes of some of the parents and grandparents went right over the heads of at least half the audience.
It’s definitely got us thinking about future projects, and how to make sure everyone in the audience can “get it” on some level.
–Sue
February 15th, 2010
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