Recognition and Destruction

2020s Providence, 1990s London, and the Obie Awards

Dear friends,

If you are getting this email for the first time, welcome to my new substack… the fact that I’ve started one at all is surely a tell-tale sign of millennial aging, but I was craving a space where I could do more deep reflection and be more, you know, writerly, in addition to sharing updates about productions and workshops and such.

You’ve either subscribed here yourself or I made an educated guess you’d be happy to hear from me once a month. (If I guessed wrong, please don’t feel any pressure to stay on this list.)

This is a champagne toast month for my newsletter, because:

MONTAG WON OBIE AWARDS

Director Dustin Wills and lead actors Ariana Venturi and Nadine Malouf were recognized for their startling accomplishments in the Soho Rep. production of Montag at the 67th Annual Obie Awards on Jan 27.

Nadine and Ari in Montag. Look at these radiant women.

I’m so thrilled and honored by the love this represents for these artists and for what we made together with our entire visionary team of makers and producers. I am proud not only of what we made but how we made it, with great care for everyone involved. I wrote this play for Dustin to direct. I was writing toward his strengths. He casually and inadvertently commissioned this play from me over a margarita. And we fought hard for Ari and Nadine. I wanted to give these two actors the chance to shine together in substantial roles. So this also feels like recognition of what becomes possible artistically when you’re given the freedom to purposefully commit to those collaborators who really get you.

In acknowledgment of continued tough times for living, breathing, rent-paying theater makers, the American Theater Wing decided to skip a fancy ceremony this year in favor of small cash grants for individual winners. Of course I respect this. But I will say I felt the absence of a ceremony, as I tried to hold my overwhelming joy with a tweezer and squeeze it awkwardly inside social media posts and text messages. Ritual isn’t frivolous. (Frivolity isn’t even frivolous!) Ritual is an essential part of how we mark time and cyclical passages, affirm community and transition between life (and yes, career) stages. I hope we can be less brutally practical again soon.

MEANWHILE, IN MY OFFICE…

In addition to brainstorming ideas for a feature film… yes, I’m saying that out loud to will this dream into fruition… I’ve been doing some tough and overtly personal writing, and when I do that, I often re-read other writers whose courage, rebellion, and command of form and language inspire me. I don’t know why I’m as impacted by several key British playwrights as I am, but Sarah Kane, Mark Ravenhill, Caryl Churchill, and Mike Bartlett always give me heart. (I realize it’s past time for me to dig a generation deeper into those writers’ influences.)

I revisited my yellowing copy of Sarah Kane’s collected plays that I’ve kept since college, her words abutted by blue inky cursive notes from younger me. It pains me that I now rarely recommend Sarah’s work to college students since our youth’s collective mental health is sincerely in tatters. The best writing stands up to endless revisits, revealing new insights as you grow over time. Sarah’s work is extraordinary and does that without question.

I stumbled across a recording late last night. It’s an interview between Sarah and playwright / academic Dan Rebellato, in which she is witty and perceptive, light and at ease, even when describing the hostility and derision she faced for writing her morally and formally courageous first play, Blasted. It’s a heart-wrenching pleasure to encounter her speaking voice. This recording has been on the internet for ten years; I don’t know why I only now found it. She says so much here that feels surreally familiar, including observations about seeing her work done in Germany. I know what it feels like to be celebrated as a writer and I also know how it feels to be attacked when you’re just trying to share an urgent truth. I wish Sarah was still with us. I know she’d have a lot to say and write about in this moment.

UPCOMING WORKSHOPS

For the playwrights on this list— I am popping up like a ceremonial groundhog to tell you that I did see my shadow and you can choose six more weeks of winter writing, starting quite soon:

DRAFT ZERO: A GET-IT-DONE PLAYWRITING SPRINT
Starts February 19, 2024
Meets via Zoom from 8 - 10pm (ET)

Online class / community / salon, six sessions.

If you want to begin something new, join Draft Zero to get it out of your head and onto the page. We’ll prioritize process over perfection and discovery over self-damnation… and I’ll offer plenty of accountability and writing prompts so you have no excuses not to get it done. My goal is to help you write an unequivocally honest, brave, and urgent first pass of your play.

THE REWRITE: DEEPEN YOUR MIDDLE DRAFT
Starts February 21, 2024
Meets via Zoom from 8 - 10pm (ET)

Online class / community / salon, six sessions.

This is a new offering! 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 and deepening your draft.

As always, feel free to reach out with any questions. I’m excited for everyone who’s already signed up. If you’ve been thinking about it, I hope you’ll join too.

WRITING EXERCISE

For this week, as a warm-up, start each day’s writing session by making a diary entry in the voice of a character you need to get to know better. This could be from a pivotal or an ordinary week in their life. What do they pay attention to and write down daily? What do they notice about their natural and social environments? Do they think about your other characters? What mood do they tend to be in when they write? Where are they stuck in life? Is one day surprisingly different from all the others?

yours,
Kate