In Search of Intergenerational Wisdom
before, after, from here on out (plus one last round of classes)
Dear friends,
Are you familiar with Italo Calvino’s Six Memos for the New Millennium? For a lecture series, Calvino articulated the literary values he wished to transmit to the next generation. He passed away before delivering these unfinished lectures, but they were collected in print form.
I’ve been thinking about them again lately as I consider the literary and theatrical values I want to hold near in this distended, fragile time of trying to rebuild community and culture. Six Memos for the Post-Pandemic, I keep muttering to myself as a mantra, as I mull over how my values have been changed by the last four years.
POST-PANDEMIC MEMO #1: INTERGENERATIONAL
I’m still sketching out my list, but intergenerational is currently hovering there. It’s particularly on my mind as the 10th round of my online classes has just wrapped. All these rooms have been multigenerational, but this last one was especially so: The Rewrite comprised a room of committed writers ranging in age from their twenties to seventies, with every decade represented in between. It felt inspiring and nourishing and… normal.
Why doesn’t this happen more often? Everyone in that room had wisdom to offer. The pandemic was an intensely multigenerational event that rearranged the life trajectory of every living person, place, and thing. None of us are the same. We get so culturally obsessed with defining differences between generations, but I can’t imagine going back to the myopia of a linear forward march of narrow age silos, and I can’t imagine how living that way will help us solve the pressing multipolar crises of this time, from our climate crisis to our loneliness epidemic.
On that note, I appreciate how the downtown theatrical lodestar New Georges has updated their mission statement. It now starts with “New Georges advocates for an intergenerational ecosystem of exuberant theatrical minds…”
DON’T GET OLD, GET ANCIENT
I sometimes hear students of all ages express worry they are too old to write plays. This is an easy thought trap to fall into, but I’d like to advocate for forcibly rejecting this notion. The fact that it’s possible to feel this way at nearly any age is a clue to its absurdity.
Writing has the potential to only get deeper and richer the more you experience and observe. Note: I say the potential. I also believe it’s ignorant to reject the wisdom of youth. When I was a college student, a dramaturg came to speak to us who loved Chekhov so much, he believed writers shouldn’t even pick up a pen until middle age, when they would begin to have something real to contribute. I have never forgotten this comment because it is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.
Sometimes when I teach or write, I’m delighted by how ancient I feel. I feel connected to millennia of writing wisdom and I am channeling everything I’ve ever been taught by my own teachers. Be ancient! And be a newborn at the same time! Be every age you ever were and ever will be. Make intentional use of the time you do have.
SOME HAPPY ACADEMIC NEWS
I’m deeply pleased to be returning to MIT as a lecturer this fall. I’m also thrilled that I’ll be lecturing at Yale College this fall… teaching a course that’s a sequel to my undergraduate thesis at Reed College. This feels like a true nerd victory. (If you’re at Yale and reading this, come take Metatheatrical Plays and Playwriting!)
I was first hired at MIT this past fall to teach for a semester while senior lecturer Ken Urban was on sabbatical. I was so enamored with the intellectual community and students I couldn’t bear the heartbreak of leaving. I took the above photo while wandering through the campus on a cold winter night, trying to imprint everything on my memory. Essential career advice: If you sincerely love working somewhere and want it to continue, even if there’s no obvious path for this to happen, be brave and tell everyone.
SOME EMOTIONALLY COMPLEX MUSIC VIDEOS
Highly recommend these new intergenerational music videos (and music!) from César Alvarez with Normal, IL and The Smile with Friend of a Friend.
UPCOMING WORKSHOPS
This is the final round of these classes for 2024, so don’t snooze on this if you want to join…
DRAFT ZERO: A Get-It-Done Playwriting Sprint
Starts April 16, 2024
Meets via Zoom from 2 - 4pm (ET)
Online class / community / salon, six sessions.
If you’re eager to begin something new, come join Draft Zero to get it out of your head and onto the page. This is a giddy adventure of a class, in which you will write an unequivocally honest, brave, and urgent ‘discovery draft’ of your play.
This round of Draft Zero is scheduled for an internationally-compatible time zone, and we’ve already got folks signed up from the U.S., U.K., and Australia.
THE REWRITE: Deepen Your Middle Draft
Starts April 16, 2024
Meets via Zoom from 8 - 10pm (ET)
Online class / community / salon, six sessions.
This one’s for you if you’re in the messy middle of a new play and the main thing is to keep going. It’s a continuation of the playful spirit and community format of Draft Zero, with additional food for thought and prompts geared toward shaping, re-investigating, and deepening your draft.
Here’s a kind endorsement from my new buddy, playwright Susan Russell:
"I'm having a ball in your Draft Zero course, and I want more and more and more of your work and your teaching to fill this world with love and ignite the American theatre! IT CAN BE DONE!"
Thanks, Susan, and thanks for supporting this newsletter. Also: my epic thanks to everyone who has shared word of these classes with their friends. You’ve made ten rounds of unexpected and delightful connections possible.
WRITING EXERCISES
Whether you’re living a literary life or expressing your creative energies elsewhere, write your Six Memos for the Post-Pandemic.
And if you’re a playwright or screenwriter: Write a rapturous falling-in-love scene for an older ingenue.
yours,
Kate