Reflections on the January Residency

The first day of the residency went extremely well. It was satisfying to hear Kibibi’s praise about the work we had put into the script since October. And to hear Yako’s ideas as a fresh ear.

This process is pretty incredible, all at once it is the strongest theater piece I’ve worked on, and on a personal level, this process is definitely bringing my father and I much closer.

The second day:

Sitting on the A train as it pulls into 42nd St. My father just got off at 34th. We had a lively discussion on the train trying to work through some practical issues around the process of creating Crossing. And although I’m exhausted and drained I am also feeling empowered and definitely closer to him.

An image that will live in my memory for years to come… I reached for and held his hand. Just a moment of connection, our hands together, and it felt natural. That’s the first time as an adult I’ve reached out and touched my father without it feeling forced. We are truly becoming father and daughter in more than just words.

The day after we finished the residency:

It’s been a long satisfying, exhausting, illuminating week.

I’m sitting on the Bedford Park Blvd platform waiting for the D while I imagine my father has returned safely to Virginia. It’s amazing what five days can do.

I definitely feel like our relationship has grown this week, not to mention that the script is in pretty good shape. I am ready to let more people read it, and continue the process of refining and tightening…

The interviews. Wow. So incredible. Seven friends of mine who were willing to open up and share their stories of growing up without a father. A diverse group of people, they ranged in ages from 18 to 36. But as I think about the second round of interviews, it’s very apparent there are holes. So far I’ve only interviewed one male, although I do have three more lined up. And I need some folks in their forties and beyond.

The following week:

I’m in Miami and super excited because tomorrow I get to hang out with my brother Chad. I am going to interview him, because he also grew up with out our father. Not sure yet if his voice will be just another voice in the soundscape, or if his identity is known. I’m really curious to hear his answers to the questions, as we have gotten to know each other, we haven’t talked that much about our childhood experiences.

And so the process continues…

The night before…

I’m feeling a sense of accomplishment, excitement and nervousness, all intertwined.

It’s just after 11pm and I know I should be asleep already, but it’s always hard for me to sleep the night before a big event. Tomorrow is the first day of the next round of rehearsals on Crossing into Presence. Since our last residency in October we have been working on the script, and it is finally finished. Well “finished” in the sense that we have a beginning, middle and end and it is the length we were striving for, but of course I’m sure there will be tweaks and edits, because really, when isn’t there.

But anyway the point is tomorrow we meet with the our director, Kibibi Dillon and Yako 440 on sound design. For the last couple of months this script has been this intense conversation in my brain and with my father, and now I find myself in the act of printing out copies. Which makes it suddenly real to me. Feeling the weight of the paper, as I imagine the magic of the first read-through tomorrow.

Maybe I’ll stop and buy some highlights for the occasion.

mapping the process from DawN’s MinD – Day 3 part 1

Day 3  part 1

I’m struggling a bit this session because I’m writing dialog back and forth for my father and I, while he works on another section of the script. And after reading it over, I’m feeling that what I just wrote is too melodramatic in nature.

I am striving to create a piece of theater that is experimental and cutting edge, that delves deeply into the issues from our autobiographical story as well as excerpts from others experiences of growing up without a father. I want to completely stay away from melodrama and standard dialog. Writing this blog, of course makes me realize that I already know how to do that, speak in the languages I’m most comfortable with, poetry and movement, constantly taking Crossing away from straight theater.

Ahhhh, this is frustrating, because I know this in my essence, and yet I’m struggling to find the exact words to transform that dialog I just wrote into something more.

Maybe I should metaphorically stand on my head and look at the situation from another angle.

Day 1 of the next stage of Crossing into Presence. October 9, 2009.

My father and I are writing, rewriting and editing it, the goal is by the time I fly back to Manchester to have a finished script of a full piece.

Last night as I was leaving Libation, I got into a conversation with my friend Steve B. about Crossing into Presence and he was really moved as I described the project. Then he suggested that I write a daily blog about the process and actually use that as part of our marketing down the line.

I hemmed and hawed about how I tried to write a blog last year and just wasn’t able to keep it going, and Steve said, all I have to do is write it every morning, then edit it, and put it out there. I think I got too caught up in wanting to make it perfect before. I am such a perfectionist.

So here I am, sitting at the LeRoy Neiman Arts Center next to my father as he types. About ten minutes ago I gave him the assignment to create some new material for a section of the script. Basically I wanted him to write about what was going on in his mind leading up to our second meeting when I was seven.

Besides the fact that the material we are working on is so important not only to our own lives but to so many others, if I take a step back from all that, this process of creating Crossing is artistically really exciting (and of course a bit scary) for me.

Exciting because the way we are working is the process I’ve discovered years ago that works best for me when writing a script.

I collage words. I write poems, journal entries and such, I keep them, and then when I begin working on a new project, I collage them. And that poem that never felt quite right alone, suddenly is the perfect thing to come next in the script.

So this is my process, and it’s amazing to realize that it works with this project as well. This time I am not just drawing from my own words, but also the words and writing of my father. And stringing them together to make one coherent piece.

It’s funny, about 40 minutes ago my father told me that his advisor still feels like he needs to know more about my process. To which I automatically got defensive and interrupted my father by giving excuses for why I just couldn’t write process notes. I’m not at Goddard anymore, you are… why don’t you just take notes of what I say, it would take me too long to write, I just don’t have the time, blah blah blah. And he them tells me he understands all that which is why he has a mini recorder that he is going to use to start recording our sessions.

I was relived, but after he got to writing I went over to a computer, and checked my email, then signed into my facebook account and decided to set my status update about working on Crossing. And as I was typing it, I realized I remembered Steve B’s suggestion of a blog and suddenly saw how that was all my father’s advisor wanted anyway, and sat down to write this. I am smiling and laughing at myself because I am stubborn sometimes and it takes me a while to try something that someone else wants me to do, even if subconsciously I want to do it to.

As I look to my left I know my father has that trait as well.