What’s in the Wings…

February 1st, 2015

Welcome to Simpatico Theatre Project’s blog-roll, What’s in the Wings, your window into “one of the best indie theatres in town!” You’ll find a variety of posts on this page from directors, designers, actors and special guests, giving you a sneak peek into our company, our current production, and our electrifying 10th Anniversary Season in Philadelphia. Thanks so much for tuning in and for staying Simpatico!

Second Stage | Series 2:
Delving into [untitled project] with Kevin Meehan and Susanne Collins

Susanne and Kevin at the recent “5×7 Space” event.

“Going along with Simpatico’s heavily female-centric season, I decided that I wanted to head up an original “devised” project that is comprised of a bunch of kick-ass women collaborators. Currently the concept is in development and we’re not completely sure what we’re creating or exactly what questions we want to ask, but feminism, identity, magnetism, selfies, empathy, pedestrianism, and internet presence are just some of the ideas we’ve been throwing around in the room. In terms of form, however, it looks like it’s shaping up to be an interactive piece of choreography. We’ve been meeting twice a month since November for two hours at time and have been experimenting with various writing, movement, and storytelling exercises. The purpose for these brief meetings are two-fold; for the collaborators to become more familiar with one another creatively, and for us to learn what tools will work best for when we delve into the process more intensely at the beginning of June. My goal is that our efforts will develop into a piece that is a mystifying breath of fresh air.” ~ Kevin

Ashley physically leads Susanne around the space while Susanne’s eyes are closed.

“The first few times that the core members of the [Simpatico Untitled Project] got together, we spent almost the entire time talking. This group, I find, is comprised of smart and inspired people who love to discuss *Big Complex Ideas*. We’ve argued about the importance and struggles of “Selfie Culture,” we’ve talked about the concepts of empathy, honesty, magnetism…you name it. It wasn’t until a meeting earlier this month, however, during a movement/storytelling exercise, that I realized I didn’t know these women as well as I’d hoped. For all the talking we had done, I had no idea how they work as artists–what they like and dislike, how they move.

Susanne, Ashley, Eliana, and Arianna moving as one unit in a Flocking Exercise.

Which is why our most recent meeting felt like a fresh and exciting step toward creating something dynamic and new–we finally got to know each other more. We were asked to bring in a few works of art that spoke to us, and some art that we didn’t like. Though it was interesting to see the pieces that everyone brought in that spoke to them, I was more interested in what my collaborators *disliked*. Eliana brought works from her “favorite artist that I hate,” Ashley disliked an entire new health insurance ad campaign, I brought in several works that have lost their impact on me over time, and Arianna brought a song that she hated the first time she heard it but grew to appreciate and love it. Not only did we all dislike vastly different things, we each took the prompt in a different way. Interesting to see how these cool cats take a simple task and make it their own.

Now that we know each other better–both personally and artistically, I feel like this group is much better equipped to *do* something with the Big Complex Ideas we’ve been spinning around for so long. I can’t wait to see where this project takes us next.” ~ Susanne

What’s in the Wings…

January 26th, 2015

Welcome to Simpatico Theatre Project’s blog-roll, What’s in the Wings, your window into “one of the best indie theatres in town!” You’ll find a variety of posts on this page from directors, designers, actors and special guests, giving you a sneak peek into our company, our current production, and our electrifying 10th Anniversary Season in Philadelphia. Thanks so much for tuning in and for staying Simpatico!

An Interview with Actor Nastassja Baset
by Sarah Totora

“Oh! I like this—not having the answers and I’m okay with it.”

SARAH: Tell us about yourself. What do you want the world to know about you (in a few words).

NASTASSJA: In a few words? I am super awesome!

SARAH: Clearly!

NASTASSJA: Clearly! And I love to perform. I love to create.

SARAH: Is theatre your go-to mode for creative expression?

NASTASSJA: Yes, theatre is my go-to mode, but I like to dabble in dance, singing. I like to paint, I like to draw.

SARAH: Your character, Annie, is our de facto guide through MILK LIKE SUGAR. How would you describe her?

NASTASSJA: It’s so hard, because Annie is not written out—she’s in the poetry. She is in search of herself. She knows who she is, but maybe she wants to be a different way. And she’s just now figuring that out—we’re witnessing that. She’s so open, optimistic. I love her because she has that side that I wish I had—that openness, that vulnerability to just be.

SARAH: Like Annie, you were born and raised in a big city (Detroit). What were the worst and best parts of growing up in an urban environment?

NASTASSJA: Growing up, I didn’t want to have a Detroit accent. I felt it wasn’t anything that could benefit me in the real world. My uncle always said, “You have to be 10 times better than the next white person.” So it was like, “You have to adjust. We understand you grew up in this environment, you have these circumstances, but you have to look like this in order for you to get a job, or in order for you to be taken seriously.” So there was a lot of pushing away and running, just trying to get out of that urban environment.

But Detroit was a safe place for me. I grew up with danger around me, but my mother kept me sheltered—enough to be aware of it, but not involved in it. So we knew about around the corner, somebody selling such-and-such, or there’s something going on over here, or we heard so-and-so got shot, but it wasn’t close to me. When I got to high school, we lived in the hood hood. My mother was afraid of us walking up the street at night. But because I wanted to escape, I didn’t want to be limited to that fear. So at a young age, when my mother couldn’t do it, I was like, “Well, I’m gonna get on the bus. I’ll go. I can do it on my own.” I didn’t want to feel scared of where I lived. So even though I was running away, my running away still helped me to connect with what was around me in a different way.

SARAH: In MILK LIKE SUGAR, Annie is faced with some difficult choices that inspire her to see her world anew. Have you had that experience in your own life—something that opened your eyes and changed your mind about the way things are?

NASTASSJA: That happens to me a lot—that evolution. My mother put us in the church, like everyday. Sunday school, bible study, choir, rehearsal, teen night, and I was okay with that because that was all my mother exposed us to. I was very devoted to learning about becoming closer with God, and really getting deep into what Christianity was about. But I was always curious about how other people lived. When I got to college, I stopped going to church, and what I discovered was peace—a peace I had thought I was learning to get in the church—I was learning to have it in myself without needing that external thing.

It was heartbreaking, though, because I was also learning more about myself as a black person. For all my life, I knew I was black, I knew I had to work 10 times harder, I had to be the best if I was going to be anything, but there was another part of my blackness that my mother, my family, and my church never exposed me to: the simple fact that “the church clap” is connected to our African heritage of syncopated rhythms and polyrhythm—that has maintained itself through the rhythm of black music. When I was learning all about that, it made me feel betrayed by the church a little bit. I was like, “Why don’t you all teach this?” So when I started to have that kind of revelation in terms of finding peace and learning about my heritage and my history, then that one way that I was going down, that path of becoming the pastor’s wife, was no longer relevant. That was an “aha!” moment. It was like, “Oh! I like this—not having the answers and I’m okay with it.”

SARAH: Why is theatre important to you?

NASTASSJA: Theatre gives me the feeling of…well, going back to church: in the Church of God in Christ, in particular, they have this thing called going to the altar. First, the preacher preaches, then he tones the bell while calling and responding with the congregation, then they start playing music along with him, and then he eventually calls out to the audience for those that need to be saved to come to the altar. When they come to the altar, he lays his hands on them, and they have to believe with all their hearts that the Lord Jesus has saved them. Once they believe that, they’re saved, and when they talk in tongues, that’s like confirmation that they have been saved, completely and totally. When you go to the altar, you’re laying your burdens down, you’re confessing, you’re giving, you’re telling the Spirit, “I need to be saved, I need to be healed, I need to be forgiven.” That’s what I think about theatre—it’s this space of give and take. For an actor, you are able to immerse yourself in a character, and getting to know that character and feel what that character is experiencing—in many ways, it may touch your own personal life. That’s why I love Annie—because I’m able to see the openness and the vulnerability of her, and it challenges me to experience that so that I can channel it for this character, but more importantly to have that for my own life. I think that theatre is a healing space, not only for the audience seeing it, but also for the actor and those involved.

SARAH: Any dream roles on your bucket list?

NASTASSJA: I would love to do an action film. I want to become a superhero and fight! And I just want to walk on the red carpet with Denzel Washington and Angela Bassett; we don’t have to do a movie together—just let me walk. I also want to finish writing my own one-woman show. It’s called IN FEAR OF HER REFLECTION, and it highlights my process through learning to accept my reflection and embrace it and love it—how I express myself, and not being afraid of that expression.


What’s in the Wings…

May 30th, 2014

Welcome to Simpatico Theatre Project’s blog-roll, What’s in the Wings, your window into “one of the best indie theatres in town!” You’ll find a variety of posts on this page from directors, designers, actors and special guests, giving you a sneak peek into our company, our current production, and our electrifying 9th Season in Philadelphia. Thanks so much for tuning in and for staying Simpatico!

Interview with Philadelphia Children’s Alliance
by Ali Nebistinsky

Simpatico Theatre Project is honored to partner with Philadelphia Children’s Alliance for our production of In a Dark Dark House. We strive to go beyond engaging audiences during our productions and encourage further dialogue about the issues incited in our work. We chose PCA to be our production partner in hopes of promoting a healthy conversation about the issue of child sexual abuse for everyone involved. Our goal is to educate our audiences and leave them with hope and the tools to confront this difficult issue. We reached out to PCA’s Executive Director Chris Kirchner to get her insight on the issue of child sexual abuse and her reaction to In a Dark Dark House. We hope you enjoy getting a deeper look into Philadelphia Children’s Alliance and the powerful connection that these partnerships can create.

ALI NEBISTINSKY – What is the Philadelphia Children’s Alliance and who do you serve?

CHRIS KIRCHNER – We are a nonprofit agency that works with various agencies to coordinate the investigation of child sexual abuse cases in Philadelphia, to ensure that children receive a coordinated response that puts all of their needs first.

ALI – What is the alliance currently doing to promote healing and justice in the Philadelphia Community?

CHRIS – We are co-located with the Special Victims Unit of the Police, sex abuse social workers from DHS, prosecutors, and medical and mental health professionals, in a welcoming and child-friendly facility. An average of 150 children come here each month where they are interviewed about the allegations by one of our interview specialists. Children will also be receiving medical exams on site once our new medical program is up and running in the summer of 2014. Our victim advocates meet with the child and their caregiver to provide crisis intervention and to ensure that they family’s questions are answered and they know what to expect from the investigation. We also provide long term therapy on site.

ALI – What is your history with the Philadelphia Children’s Alliance, and how did you get involved in this work?

CHRIS – I have a master’s degree in social work, and answered an ad in the Inquirer in 1992 for this position! I was very interested in the issue of child sexual abuse as there were several high profile cases in the news, and I had a few cases in my early years as a child welfare social worker. I also want to say that this issue has touched my family, both my maternal and paternal sides. So it is something that I wanted to do for all the kids impacted by this, but also something personal.

ALI – After seeing the production, what are you most excited to have PCA bring to our partnership?

CHRIS – Your wonderfully done production shines a light on the long term impact of child sexual abuse. Sexual abuse of children is a topic that can be difficult to discuss, and due to confidentiality laws we cannot talk publicly about the hundreds (really thousands) of cases we see each year. We rely, to an extent, on stories from adult survivors to help us all understand how damaging abuse, left untreated, can be. In A Dark Dark House is one of these stories, and in addition to demonstrating the impact of abuse, I hope that our partnership will remind everyone that there are victims of child abuse coming forward every day in our City. We owe it to them to listen to them and to do whatever we can to stop the abuse, keep them safe, and put them on a path toward healing.

ALI – How did your view of the play change from when you first read it to when you saw the full production?

CHRIS – It was great to read the play in advance, but the true essence of the play did not hit me until I saw the live production. The issues of child abuse, family violence, and the negative legacy that a parent can leave a child, all come across in a heart wrenching way that can only be felt with the live production.

ALI – If you had the opportunity to follow up with these men several months after the play ends, what would you hope to see from them? How would you advise and support them?

CHRIS – Wow, good question. I would hope to see that perhaps their interactions (in the play) had led them each to a better understanding of where the other is coming from, and as a result perhaps improved their relationship, if only slightly. I had a slight sense of hopefulness as the play ended that they were going to be in a better place. But I also know that they were dealing with deep, and dark issues, that would not go away overnight.

ALI – Why is it important for people who have not been sexually abused to hear this story and support an organization like PCA?

CHRIS – I hope that adult survivors will find some comfort in the fact that, as a society, we have (partially) woken up to the impact of sexual abuse on our children, and we are doing something about that. I hope that everyone, survivors and non-survivors alike, will think about overall impact in society when 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys are sexually abused before their 18th birthday. Everyone can take a step, from making a monetary donation to PCA (we raise about 1/3 of our budget from donations!), to educating themselves about the issue, reporting abuse when they suspect it (1-800-932-0313), and talking about the problem with their friends. We are so grateful for this partnership with Simpatico, you guys are amazing!!

To find out more about the Philadelphia Children’s Alliance visit here. If you would like to help a family in need we are accepting Grocery Store gift cards to help PCA provide food and refreshments for families during their visits. Gift cards can be dropped off at Walnut Street Theatre Studio 5 prior to any performance through June 1st or mailed to: Philadelphia Children’s Alliance, 300 E Hunting Park Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19124.

What’s in the Wings…

April 21st, 2014

Join Simpatico and our SoLow Incubator artists every other week for a glimpse behind the scenes of their developing solo shows with…
Entry Three: World of BI(?!)LINGUAL
by Asaki Kuruma

Incubator Artist Asaki Kuruma

When you hear the word “bilingual” what do you picture in your mind? International, business-y personnel? Or one of those lucky kids who happened to have parents who speak different languages? Or growing up in a different country? Well, I’m don’t fit in any of those scenarios, except being international, sure, but that’s about it. None of my family speaks English. I learned it in school because I had to, and was awful at it. I hated the subject throughout the years of forced education. But then life turns in a strange way, and somehow I ended up in this city with an unpronounceable name for almost a decade now. My every day life is in English. I ask myself over and over again: “What am I doing here?”.

See, the thing is, I fell in love with this beautiful, agonizing, absolutely fulfilling and frustrating world of theater and story telling, which are not so common in my country. Yes, Kabuki is famous and has long tradition and fantastic etc., etc., but other than that, theater is not considered as important. It’s not rooted in our culture. So even though I had stories I wanted to tell, but I was afraid to raise my voice, thinking it’s not worth telling, so people will diminish it. Also, there is always the risk of personal attack because of my ancestry.

The inspiration of BI(?!)LINGUAL has been sitting in my head for a while. Originally I was gonna write funny episodes about my confusions with language, and life in a foreign country. But I kept putting it off because if I wanted to put that on stage, I would have to write that thing myself. Psst, heck no! I am not writing anything in English. At least not until I get much better at this. But then I saw the posting Simpatico’s incubator solo artists, my mind kept on bugging me; ‘Asaki, now is the time…’ ‘Alright alright I’ll send a proposal, and if they pick it up, I’ll do it!!’ And they did. Crap, now I gotta write this thing for real! Writing is scary enough, I have to write in English, and write the story about my life? Why didn’t I choose something else?!

Asaki & Power Street Theatre Company

The monthly meeting among Incubator Artists and showing each others’ work is, of course, another terrifying moment. Because everyone else is better then me! Meredith, who I knew from our previous work, surprised me with her characterization of three completely different characters. Sarah’s intense dialogue captivates the audience. Eric is a powerful storyteller and the loudest audience in the group, which is very encouraging to me. R. Eric’s story goes right and left like a wacky roller coaster, but somehow manages to come back to the original idea from an unexpected direction. I cannot tell if it’s scripted or not even though Chris has a script in his hand as he presents his piece. Our den father, Jarrod, always smiling, keeps neutral, and makes me wonder if it’s possible to make this man dance with joy with your performance. So you work extra hard. As much as I was unsure of what I was doing, their work inspired and taught me well. Their advise gave me different perspectives and kept me objective of my piece. Gradually but surely BI(?!)LINGUAL became a play. Without their positive attitude and faith in me and my story, I would have threw my pen (or PC in this case) across the room with me yelling, ‘screw this!’ long time ago.

Speaking of bilingualism, can I say I am entering to be another kind of bilingualism? Acting is my first language in theater and writing is second. Wait, I have done wardrobe, construction, stage management and house management, producing and administration. So I am a multilingual of theater!! Hooray! Whatever it takes to tell the story that is worthwhile to be told, I’ll get there.

What’s in the Wings…

March 19th, 2014
Join Simpatico and our SoLow Incubator artists every other week for a glimpse behind the scenes of their developing solo shows with…
Entry Two: Getting so Frustrated 
by R. Eric Thomas

Incubator Artist R. Eric Thomas

My mother tells a story about a time when I was young—3-years-old or 4—and I was trying desperately to get the swing I was seated on moving. My little legs kicked and kicked but I stayed motionless. After a minute or two, an adult came over and gave me a push and that’s all it took. I caught the momentum and I was swinging! As she tells it, I turned to the little boy on the swing next to mine and exclaimed in a giddy, high-pitched voice “I was getting so frustrated! Were you getting frustrated, too, Brooksie? I was getting so frustrated!”

I love how she tells that story. I love the little kid voice she takes on when delivering my line. I love the tiny crevices of humor the story holds—the image of my little feet kicking furiously, the joy of finally getting somewhere, the surprise of 3-year-old using the word “frustrated”. I think of that story often while working VOCAB, a piece that sometimes seems as resistant as that swing set. I’ll fumble my way through constructing some text for an hour, shove my computer off my lap and announce to my empty bedroom “I was getting so frustrated!”

The lovely thing about this Incubator program is that I have 6 other artists to whom I can turn and ask, “Were you getting frustrated, too?!”

VOCAB is harder for me to create than my previous solo shows have been. I’m pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I spend most of my waking hours talking about Scandal and Beyonce and this show is not about either of them. It’s a show about black masculinity and hip-hop. I’m not even allowing myself to talk about Missy Elliot and Eve. It’s all Grandmaster Flash and Kanye West all the time. I don’t even know who Grandmaster Flash is. That might be something I just made up!

I could talk extemporaneously for an hour about Olivia Pope’s psychological issues or give a track-by-track analysis of the feminist notions on Bey’s latest album (I’m available for parties and Bar Mitzvahs; please contact my agent for booking information). But this subject is tougher. It’s harder for me to get inside of; it’s harder for me to find words for. And I guess that’s why I’m making a show about it. I see masculinity and blackness as a puzzle that I as an artist and as a black male need to solve to gain a better understanding of the world in which I live.

But I’ve been getting so frustrated!

I guess I’m coming around to the idea that art isn’t created in a vacuum. It’s a team effort. I accept this begrudgingly because I don’t really care for other people. They have opinions and I can’t be bothered. In the past, I’ve had very successful collaborations with directors, other artists, and dramaturgs, but in those cases I’ve showed up with a completed script in hand. And by “in hand”, I usually mean, in my head… somewhere… kind of. I just walk into the rehearsal room, throw my huge sunglasses on the table, guzzle my venti non-fat mocha and sigh luxuriously. “Here’s the script!” I declare as I return a text from Marilu Henner. “It’s perfect. (It’s awful.) I love it! (I hate it!) Tell me how to fix it. (Nothing but empty compliments or I’ll cut your knees off!)” And, at that point, I usually burst into a couple of verses of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” and then take a nap in the corner.

And, I’ll tell you, this has worked out beautifully. Everything is different with VOCAB. The script is not done, after months of effort. It comes to me sometimes one line a day. I was at a dinner party last night and, out of nowhere, two words came to me. TWO WORDS. 3-seconds of a 70-minute show. Meanwhile Mike Daisey is off somewhere writing a new two-hour show every night for a month like the Artist’s Way is some kind of marathon. Thankfully, every month the 6 other Incubator Artists—Asaki, Chris, Eric, Meredith, Lena, and Sarah—and I gather in a room with Jarrod, our ever-patient producer, and other members of the Simpatico team. And we have to show something.

Without fail I am blown away by what the others bring to the table. Everyone has such distinctive voices, such complex structures, such captivating inquiries. I am always humbled to sit there with them. The questions that Sarah asks in her piece keep me up at night. The way Chris weaves together words and ideas and narrative strands nothing short of virtuosic. Asaki has an ability to frame her life experiences that is immediately accessible and yet captivatingly remote. Eric, Lena and Meredith are pretty much geniuses and it makes me furious. Every piece is like nothing I’ve ever heard. And, let me say, after each artist sits down I think to myself Now that’s the kind of brilliance you should be writing, Margaret. (I call myself Margaret when I’m in the mood to chastise.) Why didn’t you think to create an intricate three-character show about Casablanca? Why haven’t you even seen Casablanca? Is it too late to change your show to an in-depth analysis of You’ve Got Mail?

When I get up in front of the other Incubator Artists, I am battling against every insecurity I’ve ever had as a writer, as a performer and as a highly attractive person. And that’s not something I like to do without a stack of waffles at the ready. But I do it. Because I have to. Because Jarrod and my dramaturg, Rebecca, routinely ignore my panicked e-mails threatening to quit. And when I get up in front of the other Incubator Artists, I’m presenting ideas that aren’t as polished as I want them to be yet. I am presenting passages of text that are still closer to theory than they are to drama. I’m looking for help finding the crevices of humor; I’m looking for another person on another swing who’s still trying to figure out how to make it move.

And they never disappoint. Every meeting has been unfailing positive and terrifically helpful. It’s amazing to watch other people go through their processes. It’s instructive, also. I notice the way that the other artists incorporate criticism or ask questions of the group and I steal their methods for myself. So much of writing is done alone at a Starbucks or in an empty bedroom or on the back of a receipt from Trader Joe’s. It’s been revelatory to watch a part of that process happen in public, even as I do it myself.

I go home after each meeting jazzed and ready to work. And then I find a prodigious amount of stuff to keep from doing that work. It’s really remarkable, actually. I have balanced my checkbook, I’ve found my checkbook; I’ve lost my checkbook; I did my taxes; I ripped my taxes up in fury; I watched 4 and a half seasons of The Good Wife, all of House of Cards, a French series called Les Revenants and a educational science show called The Big Bang Theory; I have searched for that Malaysian plane (sad news: it’s most definitely not anywhere on Passyunk Avenue); I have become really interested in the music of Jason Derulo. The other day I suddenly stopped writing so that I could brush my teeth. At 10 pm.

But, despite all the procrastination, the show is coming together. Word by word, line by line, every day.

I can’t say that after this process is over I won’t go right back to making shows about pop culture divas and romantic comedies. It’s my gift. It’s what the world needs. But this process has been a push that has given me new momentum and enabled me to tackle subjects and ways of making art that I haven’t been able to approach before. Yes, I’ve been frustrated but the effort is producing results. I keep showing up. I keep kicking.

What’s in the Wings…

March 1st, 2014

Join Simpatico and our SoLow Incubator artists every other week for a glimpse behind the scenes of their developing solo shows with…
Entry One: The Collaborative Spirit
by Meredith Sonnen

Lena Barnard and Sonnen in the studio

Writing this play has been hard. It feels like squinting into the distance at an object that I think I should be identifiable but is just too blurry. Luckily, I have a cohort on this trek. If you met Lena (Barnard) and I, it would feel a lot like an episode of Gilmore Girls or the West Wing. We talk over each other and make obscure references and laugh at inside jokes that no one else gets.  Being around Lena makes me feel entirely secure. I can be myself with her. I like to think the feeling is mutual.  Who else will get all her Julie Andrews references?

I don’t always feel that way. Our play (we are still struggling with a title) is in many ways about not feeling like you can be yourself. I couldn’t write so much about it if I didn’t live it so much of the time. It was a pleasant surprise this year to stumble onto a group of artists who make me feel like I can get up and risk and fail in front of them, and do it again and again. Solow Incubatorhas been like that every time.

A publicity shot of Bergman from the 40s

Each time I see those people, I feel comfortable. Eric Wunsch will say something foul and uproarious, Asaki will light up the room with a smile, Sarah will make a perfectly timed wry remark, Jarrod will tell you a funny story from his week. The list goes on. I didn’t know some of these people at all before our first Incubator meeting. Some of them I knew a little, and Eric Wunsch and I go way back. I didn’t expect to walk in there and feel entirely excited to stand up and show them our play about Ingrid Bergman and identity theory.

I co-wrote a play sort of about feeling like I was not welcomed by the world as I was. It is very personal and while the characters are fictional, it lifts heavily from our lives. I am obsessed with Ms. Bergman just as much as these characters. I struggle with identity and sexism and the problematic elements of Casablanca. I speak mostly in comedy. I am weird and not everybody gets it. Coming into group meeting this week, one of the other artists told me that they had been excited to hear what we wrote next, and I felt perfectly at home and safe. I couldn’t wait to show them.

Our play is about 3 people who are in various stages of obsession with Casablanca and Ingrid Bergman in particular. They all get something out of it they can’t get anywhere else. Bergman was one of the first misfits in Hollywood. She was Swedish, didn’t wear makeup, or follow all the rules. Ingrid said “Be yourself. The world worships an original.”  She is the inspiration. We can’t wait to show you.

What’s in the Wings…

October 21st, 2013

The Rhythm of SIZE
 by Ali Nebistinsky

Music and rhythm play an essential role in creating the world of The Brothers Size.  Playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney writes with language that’s inherently poetic and has a very distinct rhythm. McCraney also indicates many moments in the play where the characters sing or a song is heard (however, there is no suggestion of what song they should sing). This opens up a world of possibilities and I was curious to find out from Director James Ijames and Sound Designer Daniel Kontz how they created the musical landscape for Simpatico’s production.

Actors Akeem Davis & Carlo Campbell

McCraney certainly doesn’t leave the director and actors in the dark; the script is steeped with influences from West African Yoruba mythology. The play is set in rural Louisiana, where Blues plays an important role. Beginning with those important cues, Ijames and the cast experimented with many different songs during the rehearsal process. Because the timing of the piece is also somewhat vague, only stipulated as the “distant present”, Ijames suggests that the characters were possibly in their early 30s and began to think about the music of their childhood.

That led him to explore 70’s and 80’s R&B, infusing the piece with a sense of nostalgia. Of course, this gave the cast a lot to play with, experimenting during rehearsal with songs from many different artists. There is one particular scene where the brothers Oshoosi and Ogun sing along and dance to “Before I Let Go” by Maze. It’s a very touching moment in the show and it was important to find the best musical fit for the interaction.

Ijames had the actors play with 7 or 8 different songs including Al Green’s “Love and Happiness”. According to Ijames, that specific song was “too even” and didn’t fit the tone that they were trying to create. They finally settled on “Before I Let Go “, which had the driving rhythm that Ijames was looking for.

R&B influences also came into play in Kontz’s design for the pre-show music, which is always important in setting the mood for the audience. Designing for McCraney’s world, Kontz found it important to “find a lineage, to build a through-line in my design so I can make sound choices which unite in supporting the broader vision of the piece.”

Actors Akeem Davis & Kirschen Wolford

There are two distinct worlds in the play: the reality in which the characters live and their dreams. Kontz created a unique soundscape for the dreams to make a distinction between the two worlds, “The soundscape of the dreams was created by blending the past with the present, Southwestern Nigeria with the Deep South.” The combination of Western African and Blues-influences music gives this production a rich and profound soundtrack.

If you would like to listen to the energetic and soulful music featured in Simpatico’s production check out The Brothers Size playlist and on Spotify!