In The Room

What’s your first move when you walk into a new creative space — how do you set the tone?
Organization. I’ve noticed that artists largely need a strong sense of organization so that they can let go and play. As an SM, that usually means making sure the room is tidy and conducive to whatever work needs to be done that day. I’m especially keen on having reference images of the set/stage plan available, an accurate tape out, rehearsal furniture, prop stand-ins, sample sounds, etc. Actors have amazing imagination but they’re already focusing it on character and relationship. Whatever tactility I can provide to help ground them, I will.

How do you decide when to lead from structure and when to lead from instinct?
Yes.

No, but honestly? It’s both in constant fluidity. The structure must be there, but you can’t be rigid about it. I’d say the whole process is extremely intuitive. What kind of energy are the artists bringing into a room? How important is it to push so we check the boxes before the next break, versus when you’ve struck a vein of gold and need to spend time teasing it out even if that means we reschedule today’s agenda to tomorrow? Read the room: one eye on the clock, two fingers on the pulse, always.

How do you earn the trust of a new team — and how do you give it back?
Communication. Listening is so important. Asking for clarification is vital. I notice my collaborators relax when I demonstrate that I care about understanding what they’re saying, care what they care about, and care about communicating that to the relevant team members clearly and respectfully. So: ask, listen, demonstrate understanding, and follow through effectively.

And then, as to giving it back, “trust but verify.” And always as an equal even from a position of leadership. For instance, with my ASMs, I always give them the tools to do the job themselves and let them know that I will be following up, not because I don’t trust them, but because I want to make sure I’m communicating effectively and that we are maintaining what the cast/creatives need to see their work honored. I also ask them to double check me. We’re in it together.

What do you think is the difference between telling a story and stewarding one?
I think stewardship speaks to an almost metaphysical collaboration. For instance, as a teacher/director, I can tell a story through my actors, or even collaborate with them to tell a story to the audience. But what a refreshing perspective shift it is to steward a living story with my actors and the audience and the playwright and the creative team and etc, etc. To think of it not just as something happening now, but happening a hundred years ago when it was real enough to someone’s heart to merit writing it down, or happening 3 months from now when a someone’s gut relives a moment in technicolor. There’s so much more happening inside of story than we realize when we limit ourselves to the telling.

How do you help young artists move from imitation to authentic voice?
I firmly believe that empathy is at the root of art and it usually starts with empathy for oneself. Authentic voice, to me, is rooted in believing that whatever you have to offer—no matter how broken or frightened or inexperienced or unremarkable—is fully and totally enough.

Moreover, I love this Emile Zola quote: “The stage should be to the dramatist what the laboratory is to the scientist.” And I’m equally fond of the tenet that acting is “being truthful in imaginary circumstances.”

So, I try to lead with curiosity: How is this person like or different from you? How can you relate to what’s happening on the page? Why is this character saying these words now? How do you think they feel about what’s happening to them and what they’re trying to do? Hopefully that brings them to a place where the truth of what they offer and the truth of what the story offers them can interact.

How do you stay connected to wonder when you’re in a leadership role that demands constant pragmatism?
Fortunately, wonder is in my wiring. So is tenacity, but it’s a constant oscillation. I find beauty even in the rhythm of structure. When I get to the end of the rehearsal time and it was productive and we managed to touch every scene I planned when I scheduled it? That’s beautiful. And even in all the business of taking blocking notes or thinking of what’s next, I’m always cataloguing questions and observations. I never come into a project with all the answers. It’s totally normal for me to have been in two months of rehearsals and performances 4-6 days a week and have a brand new revelation on closing night. It just never stops and I never try to stop it. I think that impulse to wonder is one of my greatest assets.

What’s a quality you hope people feel after working with you — not just think, but feel?
Loved. Honored. Respected. Authorized. Enabled.