San Francisco Ballet’s “Nutcracker” snow queen costume, designed by Martin Pakledinaz

Rose’s Turn: Costuming the 2008 “Gypsy” Revival

I’ve been on a bit of a Patti Lupone kick this year, as my reviews of War Paint probably showed, so I decided to take a look at a few of the costumes from her Tony-winning turn as Mama Rose in the 2008 revival of the musical Gypsy: A Musical Fable. I’m focusing on just the Mama Rose costumes this afternoon because I think that they deserve special attention, but in the future, I think I will go back and take a look at the other costumes.

Gypsy’s revival was costumed by the late Martin Pakledinaz, best known for his Tony Award-winning costumes in Thoroughly Modern Millie and the 2000-era revival of Kiss Me, Kate. Mr. Pakledinaz did a fantastic job capturing the original feel of the musical while still managing to infuse the dramatic, overbearing Rose character with rich, beautiful colors.

For those unfamiliar with the musical, Gypsy is the story of Rose Thompson Hovick, the mother to burlesque pioneer Gypsy Rose Lee (from whom the musical takes its title) and the very definition of a stage mother. You think the moms on Dance Moms or other reality shows are a little crazy? They’ve got nothing on Mama Rose. Take a read through Gypsy: A Memoir if you ever have the time or inclination. A dear friend of mine from college did her capstone on the influence of Gypsy Rose Lee on burlesque as an art form, and the story of her is absolutely fascinating, especially the domineering nature of her mother.

The role of Rose was originated on Broadway by a woman whose name is synonymous with theatre stardom, Ethel Merman, and has been since played on stage in New York by Dame Angela Lansbury (who won the 1975 Tony for her performance), Tyne Daly (who won the 1990 Tony for her performance), Bernadette Peters, Patti Lupone (whose revival is the subject of the review, and who won the 2008 Tony for her performance), and will be once again revived by Imelda Staunton in 2018 following a wildly successful West End revival. In other words, this is a role that commands an actress with power and the ability to belt out a melody that will be heard in the rafters. And any role that demanding deserves costumes that match. Let’s take a look:

The musical as a whole is set in the 1920s and 1930s, and follows a family of vaudevillians as they try and make it big, led by the domineering and overbearing Mama Rose. As a result, the costumes that Mr. Pakledinaz designed tend to be dramatic and showy, a little risqué, and intended to wow the audience without overpowering the character or actress (though, frankly, I’m not sure one can overpower Patti Lupone).

This first number is in a color palate I haven’t looked at much before, which is the golds and browns families. Typically, a designer will not mix two different patterns in fabric, but on occasion there can be a very good reason for doing so. Here, Mama Rose is wearing a brown-and-white checked jacket over a gold, orange, and white blouse and a slightly softer orange skirt. The overall effect that’s given off is one of the character being a bit off, like there’s something that isn’t quite right or expected about who and what they are. But that’s not a flaw in the costume design; it’s a feature in my book given that the musical follows Rose’s journey into losing everything--family included--in her quest for fame-by-proxy.

The color choices add to that overall effect, I think. Later in the musical, the palate Mr. Pakledinaz uses gets a bit darker and more muted, but here, it’s almost manic, clashing just a little bit without being unpleasing to the eye. The clash in the dual geometric patterns draws the eye, especially in comparison to the much plainer designs given to the supporting characters in this scene and in others. Clearly, this is where the attention should be, words or music be darned, and it’s a great effect. And, as I said, it’s not unpleasing to the eye. It’s just unusual.

I find that when I mention Gypsy to a person who isn’t a theatre fan, they don’t necessarily know what I’m talking about. But bring up the manic, show-stopping number “Everything’s Coming Up Roses,” the light of recognition tends to cross their faces. In part, that’s because this is one of those showtunes that managed to get into the public mind because it’s a great phrase, and because of Bette Midler’s performance as Mama Rose in a mid-1990s television version of the musical. For those who might not know it, let me give you a taste of this number and why the costume gets some special attention in this post, with this clip of Patti Lupone performing it at the 2008 Tony Awards ceremony; the dialogue is important, but if you want to skip right to the music, it starts at the 1:12 mark:

This number closes the first Act of the musical, as Rose’s younger daughter June has eloped and left her stage-obsessed mother behind. The family (including older daughter Louise, the titular Gypsy, and Mama’s fiancé Herbie) believe that this will finally compel Mama Rose to give up her obsession with making it big and let them settle down. Instead, in the blink of an eye, Mama Rose transfers her dreams from one daughter to another in a show-stopping number that is as manic as it is memorable.

For this number, Mr. Pakledinaz has costumed Patti Lupone in a number of layers that can be seen both in the clip above and in this still from the stage production itself; it’s far more somber than the piece which started out this review, and that reflects that despite the new plan to make Louise into Gypsy Rose Lee, the character of Mama Rose is still in a darker place herself and is now clinging to one last hope of stardom. In full, the costume looks like this:

The coat she wears at the train station in this scene is a rich, deep maroon purple that almost drinks up the shadows while providing a contrast to the Mr Lupone’s skin as it’s illuminated by the stage lights. The fabric is heavy and woolen in a rare exception to the general rule that you avoid heavy fabrics in live theatre (even when the setting requires it), and I think you can read a little metaphor into it: the character is literally being weighed down by keeping out the cold, the way she is figuratively weighed down by her dreams of stardom even if it’s only by proxy.

Beneath that is a gorgeous blue dress with a cream scarf/collar that, unfortunately, has not been photographed much in the right lighting. I was, however, able to find one still that offered a little more perspective on it, however:

As you can somewhat see, the dress underneath the maroon coat is blue, with a wild and Bohemian paisley and swirled pattern that is alive with color, busy, and designed to catch the eye. As with Mama herself, a simple exterior embodied by the coat gives way to a much more complex interior, as embodied by this dress. The blue manages to not fade into the background thanks to the coat acting as a barrier, and I like the addition of the scarf/collar itself as a way to lighten up the whole ensemble, as well as to draw the eye down to the skirt; in the theatre, I do believe it would be much easier to see the pattern, at least from center orchestra.

The scarf/collar combination itself is a gridded white chiffon, as seen in this closeup which also lets us look at the dress’ hem in a tiny bit more detail:

More of a cream than a pure white, it’s there to provide covering on the bust as well as to lighten the ensemble, as I stated. It does that job well, and the use of a rougher fabric design as compared to the smoothness of the dress itself is a wise one. It adds just a little bit more contrast when viewed up close, and I like that. We can also see the Bohemian influence in the hem of the dress, with the somewhat funky and rule-less design in blues and oranges.

The final costume that Ms Lupone is outfitted in during the 2008 revival is also her simplest of the production, but that in no way makes it less impressive. As the show winds down, the 11 o’clock number, “Rose’s Turn,” represents Mama Rose coming to grips with the idea that not only will she never make it big, but that she’s lost everyone she might have cared about: June (the daughter who eloped), Louise (Gypsy Rose), and Herbie (Rose’s fiancé). She tries hard in this number to justify everything she’s done, and finally admits that it was all about her in the end. It’s a sad, powerful, memorable number and it has a costume to match:

The giant ROSE in lights is in fact part of the production; part of the sequence for this number is Rose fantasizing about seeing her own name up in lights and hearing the crowds applauding and cheering her name. But as she fantasized, she’s outfitted pretty plainly. The deep, burnt red that she wears here is far different from the manic pattern of the blue dress from the end of Act I. Instead, it is simple, cleanly cut, and even makes the character seem a bit small on the darkness of the stage. That’s obviously intentional: the designer wants the focus to be on this character, and this character alone, with no design elements to distract. The color has to do the work, not the costume.

The A-line cut of the dress, interrupted only by a band of satiny or silky fabric at the waste, is classical and believable as simply a dress that a woman in Mama Rose’s station would own and wear. The plainness is once again a feature rather than a bug: there is nothing to distract from the character, from the words, from the music. There is simply the deep red color against the blackness of the character’s fantasy, and the audience is left--in my opinion--a little bit haunted by the overall effect.

Mama Rose is one of the most challenging roles on Broadway, not only because of the need for belting vocals and a powerful voice, but because of the personality of the character. There is a reason, I think, that only the Broadway Greats have been cast in the role throughout the musical’s history; Merman, Lansbury, Lupone, all are the definition of a leading lady, and have been costumed to fit the part. For the 2008 revival, I think the choice of colors and styles was absolutely spot on, and the Tony nomination for Mr. Pakledinaz was well-deserved.

Gypsy is a fantastic musical that drips with classic Broadway style and flair, not to mention costuming. I highly recommend it as an entrée into the world of musical theatre, and especially recommend the 2008 recording of the production. Treat your ears to the show-stopping, powerful, bittersweet melodies and enjoy it for what it is: beautiful theatre.

That wraps up this review of the 2008 revival of Gypsy. As I said, I may come back to look at some more of Mr. Pakledinaz’s designs for this production later on this year; there certainly is a lot to work with. On a personal note, this was the last production that I was able to enjoy before I took my hiatus from the theatre fandom, and it’s one that has always left fond memories in my mind. It’s worth looking into!

Later on this week, I’ll be posting some more full reviews and have a couple mini-reviews queued up. So stay tuned, dear readers!

Edit: A kindly Anon noticed that I had inadvertently reversed the birth order for Louise and June; June is, by a year, the younger of the two daughters, and this post has been updated accordingly!

Yuan Yuan Tan and Tiit Helimets, "Prism" (dress rehearsal), choreography by Helgi Tomasson, music by Ludwig van Beethoven, costume by Martin Pakledinaz and Barbara Matera. As part of “Program 6”, San Francisco Ballet, War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, California, US

Photographer Erik Tomasson

Musicals + Costumes: Kiss Me, Kate (2019 revival) by Jeff Mahshie  

Costume designer Jeff Mahshie intentionally set out to pay homage to Martin Pakledinaz, who earned a Tony Award for the first revival’s costumes.“When we work with Scott [Ellis, the director], we all work really closely,” Mahshie explains. During consultations among the design team, set designer David Rockwell mentioned that the top of the show features racks of costumes never meant to be worn. Typically, that would fall under his purview, but he asked Mahshie if he’d like to tackle it instead.“I thought, ‘Let me pay a little tribute to Marty Pakledinaz,’” Mahshie says. After a few calls, he located the 1999 revival’s costumes at the Goodspeed Opera House, which was more than willing to lend him anything he needed....As he was pulling costumes for the rack, there was a debate happening about whether or not O’Hara should open the show in a hat or bareheaded. On a hunch, Mahshie phoned Goodspeed again and asked if they had the hat Mazzie wore. They did, and sent it over and, to Mahshie’s delight, it remained in pristine condition.“And so I tried the hat,” Mahshie says. “And that door opens, the light comes behind [O’Hara], and it was very obvious. It was one of those moments when you knew. She made that entrance and it’s like, ‘OK. She gets the hat.’”

U3 Reflective Journal- The Hard Nut New York

Choreographer: Mark Morris

Set Design: Adrianne Lobel

Costume Design: Martin Pakledinaz

Lighting design: James F. Ingalls

This Christmas Season I found myself at the Brooklyn Academy of Music to watch choreographer, Mark Morris's show, The Hard Nut which is a 60's interpretation of the The Nutcracker . The production still retains Tchaikovsky's original score, but the costumes, sets, choreography, and interpretation have all been updated to reflect the 21st century.

https://lichtensteinfoundation.org/

My first response to the production was an acknowledgement of the Roy Lichenstein influence as seen on the cover of the Playbill and Above with Roy's Reflections on Hair. The 50's and 60's World War II aftermath was ever present in the black and white, comic book style set and groovy 50's and 60's, outrageous in the best way costumes.

The Intro Party Scene was filled with Elvis inspired disco outfits, elegantly frazzled fros, and guitars all in bold red and glimmering green which masterfully popped against the black and white living room set. The choreography was immediately impressive because the gestures of the performers filled the scene in a way you rarely see in the Nutcracker. The party scene filled the stage with mini stories of flirtation, embarrassment, and childhood adventures. The choreography had tones of Bob Fosse influence especially with the Uncle's gestures and movements which I greatly appreciated.

I loved the Giant Robot and Barbie interpretation of the Doll's and Nutcracker. It felt like an apt reinvention that had the little kids infront of my boyfriend and I on the edge of their seats, literally.

In the Hard Nut, Clara's brother receives a flash light which Clara uses in the dark to spy on her presents and look for the rats. This ends up being a magical tool in the transfermation between reality and the land of Clara's dreams when Clara spins the flash light around her in a circular motion like the giant clock hanging abover her striking midnight. I think they could have taken the human scale clock out of the set when the giant clock came down into from.

The costumes throughout were rather inventive. Some of the most impressive and unique interpretations were that of the Rat Costumes with their long nails and aptly placed, long, shaggy fur. The toy soldiers that accompanied them were also well done, though I think in understanding of gun violence in the United States currently, the use of realistic looking toy guns is unneccessary and rather triggering (literally). I think a Roy inspired interpretation would be a positive update to the show.

For Clara's continued transition into dreamland, two addition "Dream People" dressed in Yayoi Kusama inspired polka dot suits come out to move the furniture around and change the costumes of the Nutcracker and other characters on stage. Not only do I think this a wonderful way to fill the music, but I also find the personification of magical experiences an intuitively powerful theatrical device such as the two 'Red Men' in A Very Very Very Dark Matter.

The use of gender was one of the most memorable and captivating aspects of the production. All of the roles, both gender specific and otherwise traditionally played by female ballerina's were evenly distributed with men and women dressing in drag, both being snowflakes, flowers, and dancers from around the world. Seeing men and women side by side in a comically sashay across the floor in mini snowflake tutus and whip cream whigs sprinkling 20 pounds of paper snowflakes all over the stage every show was both funny, captivating, and stunningly beautiful.

The male duet between the Nutcracker boy and the Uncle mirroring each other was one of the most seamless and natural male, partner work duets I've ever scene. I was particularly inspired by Mark Morris's ability to choreograph non romantic, equal partner work which you rarely see anywhere else. The lyricism and fluidity of the duet showed an equal relationship of support between the two dancers. In ballet, partner work can be very gender specific, or atleast the role of support and the role of the traditional 'female' supported is strictly defined. Even in the partner work between Clara and her Nutcracker, the support felt equal which reflects a more modern relationship between the two characters where both are lifting each other up.

For Additional Reading on the Hard Nut

https://naples.floridaweekly.com/articles/my-life-as-a-rat-a-flower-a-snowflake-in-the-hard-nut/

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/14/arts/dance/review-mark-morriss-the-hard-nut-tchaikovsky-with-cartoon-wit-and-verve.html

http://adriannelobel.com/scenic_design/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQp05WTQtNw

Playwright and director George C. Wolfe, playwright and poet Ntozake Shange, playwright and novelist Larry Kramer before the Identity Week panel.

Larry Kramer, who wrote “The Normal Heart” and founded GMHC (the Gay Mens Health Crisis) and ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) has died at age 84.

obituary

In 2011, The Normal Heart, which was about AIDS and AIDS activists, was revived on Broadway. Here is a repost of my review at the time, April 2011

Theatergoers leaving “The Normal Heart,” a revival of the 1985 play about the AIDS crisis, were greeted by activist Larry Kramer handing out a leaflet from the curb. He was not urging a boycott; it is, after all, his play. The leaflet brought us up to date on AIDS: Since the AIDS epidemic was first identified, 35 million people have died of it. “When the action of the play that you have just seen begins,” Kramer writes, “there were 41.”

A couple of things about this made me curious, and since the playwright was standing right there, I asked him two questions: 1. Why didn’t he just insert the leaflet in the Playbill? “I wanted you to see the play first,” Larry Kramer explained.

2. If the mayor of New York City, who is one of those blasted in the play for inaction, had responded right away to the news of the 41, how would things have wound up differently? “That’s a dumb question,” Larry Kramer replied. “Use your imagination.”

And there in our interaction I thought I detected a taste of “The Normal Heart” itself. This story of the early years of the AIDS epidemic, being given a first-rate production with an impressive cast at the John Golden Theater, is informative, unwieldy, thought-provoking, didactic, exasperating and, in the end, deeply moving – and it requires an in-your-face confrontation not only with the facts of AIDS but also with the personality of Larry Kramer.

“The Normal Heart” revolves around Kramer’s obvious stand-in, Ned Weeks, a writer who describes himself as an angry loud-mouth, played in this production by Joe Mantello, returning to acting after almost two decades as a successful director (“Wicked,” “Assassins”) But Kramer is also present in the character of Emma, played by Ellen Barkin, one of the first physicians to see patients in 1981 with a strange new disease that seemed to affect only gay men.

Worried after reading a short article in the New York Times about it, Ned visits Emma in her office, and she all but anoints him to lead the fight. “Someone has to. Why not you?” In more than a dozen scenes, we see Ned argue with a writer from the New York Times, with a New York City official, with his own brother, but mostly with the other gay men who found an unnamed organization (clearly the Gay Men’s Health Crisis, GMHC) – and we see Emma argue with a federal health official who denies her funding — in what amounts to a series of indictments of all levels of government, health officials, the press, and the gay community itself for their failure to respond quickly and effectively to the epidemic.

“There’s not a good word to be said for anybody’s behavior in this mess,” a character (not Ned) says, but it is Larry Kramer speaking. While Kramer offers insightful general points about the reasons for the neglect, he also makes specific accusations that too often seem personal, one-sided, and unsubstantiated. An aide to the New York City mayor is depicted as somebody not just insufficiently responsive but uncaring, even brutish and threatening, and when the mayor (unnamed, but Ed Koch) has finally agreed to meet with the gay groups about AIDS, Ned says: “He’s the one person most responsible for letting this epidemic get out of control.”

I am not equipped to argue knowledgeably with this statement, but the assertion raises more questions than it answers (which is why I asked the playwright about it). In a foreword to the published script, Joseph Papp, who put on “The Normal Heart” at the Public in 1985 in what was then considered an act of courage, wrote: “I love the ardor of this play, its howling, its terror and its kindness.” In a later interview, he recounted his reaction to the initial script: “I said ‘This is one of the worst things I’ve ever read,’ and I was crying…There was so much feeling in the play, I was moved.” Even after extensive revisions, the director of its 1985 production, Michael Lindsay-Hogg, compared the play to a heavyweight boxer who “misses sometimes, but if he connected, it would really snap your head back.” In his 1985 New York Times review, Frank Rich wrote that “Mr. Kramer’s theatrical talents are not always as highly developed as his conscience.”

The current production of “The Normal Heart” began as a benefit reading, and has the feeling of a group effort by the theater on behalf of a cause, a fundraiser – and indeed a spokesman for the show says that the production has a “financial commitment” to The Actors Fund, amfAR, Friends in Deed and the Human Rights Campaign (It is interesting but unsurprising that GMHC is not included.) All of this might lead one to expect that the revival of “The Normal Heart” would be a political, historical, even anthropological experience rather than a theatrically satisfying one. It is certainly true that “The Normal Heart” is not the best play to deal with AIDS (nor was it the first – William Hoffman’s “As Is” opened a month before “The Normal Heart” Off-Broadway and 26 years before “The Normal Heart” on Broadway). But “The Normal Heart” can be appreciated as a play, rather than as a cause or a series of hectoring lectures, for several reasons. Part of it is the touch of the directors, Joel Grey and George C. Wolfe. Grey took over the role of Ned in the original production from Brad Davis (who, in a tragic irony, was diagnosed with AIDS that same year.) Grey, who also performs in the current revival of ‘Anything Goes,” asked former Public Theater artistic director Wolfe to co-direct “The Normal Heart.” David Rockwell’s set is stark, with little furniture, either all white and inlaid with words and catchphrases from the AIDS crisis, or a projection of the growing number of names of people who died of AIDS. (Both of these are a clever reflection of the kind of graphics created by AIDS activists.) There are little moments meant to shock — in the first scene, in the doctor’s office, the first patient with AIDS we see looks normal, until he turns around to face his friends, and we see that the other side of his face is covered with the tell-tale bruises of kaposi sarcoma. Similarly, it takes us a while to realize that Emma is in a wheelchair, the result of a childhood bout with polio. It is fascinating to witness the interaction among the various gay men trying to fashion a response and deal with their own panic, and to hear the now-forgotten debates that divided the community over what would be the best approach. The production attempts to place these arguments in context with a quick opening montage of photographs, posters, buttons glimpsing the efforts over the previous decade to assert gay pride in the face of anti-gay prejudice. Sex, for some, was seen as liberation, which is why some resisted the effort to curtail it, fearing a return to the days before Stonewall, when simply sitting in a gay bar put you in danger of arrest. Most to the point, when Kramer allows other characters besides his stand-ins to have the floor, that floor becomes more like a stage, and the characters are permitted to reveal more than just their political viewpoints. There is a story about the horrible treatment by airline and hospital personnel toward a dying man, told by his lover Bruce, the ex-Green Beret who is in the closet (played by Lee Pace, best-known for his role as Ned on “Pushing Daisies”). Patrick Breen (“Next Fall”) plays Mickey, a health department employee who is wracked by guilt and anxiety. Jim Parsons (who plays Sheldon Cooper on “The Big Bang Theory”) is charming and believable as the conciliatory Tommy. The character above all that turns “The Normal Heart” into a drama is Felix Turner, a gay New York Times style reporter who becomes Ned’s lover. Felix is played exquisitely by John Benjamin Hickey, currently known for the role of Laura Linney’s brother on the Showtime series “The Big C.” Felix functions as welcome puncture and punctuation to Ned’s self-serious rants. When, during an early date, Ned lectures Felix on how the world allowed Jews to perish during the Holocaust, Felix drily remarks: “This is turning out to be a very romantic evening.” It is Felix — amiable, likable, wry, non-political – who discovers a purple bruise on his foot, and with whom we share the debilitating, humiliating journey through a disease that, a quarter of a century later, still has no cure. Information about AIDS from the National Institutes of Health. The Normal Heart At the John Golden Theater Written by Larry Kramer Directed by Joel Grey and George C. Wolfe Scenic design by David Rockwell, costume design by Martin Pakledinaz, lighting by David Weiner, sound by David Van Tieghen, projections by Batwin & Robin Cast: Joe Mantello, Ellen Barkin, John Benjamin Hickey, Patrick Breen, Luke MacFarlane, Lee Pace, Jim Parsons, Mark Harelik, Richard Topol, Wayne Wilcox Running time: 2 hours and 35 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission Ticket prices: $26.50 to $116.50.

RIP Larry Kramer 84, playwright of The Normal Heart, AIDS activist: “Almost more than talent you need tenacity: Larry Kramer, who wrote “The Normal Heart” and founded GMHC (the Gay Mens Health Crisis) and ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) has died at age 84.

Musical Monday

In an age where work is scarce, this week’s Best Musical nominee reminds one of the good ‘ole Gershwin days. Nostalgia is a lovely distraction in times like these, and so today’s Musical Monday shall serve as such. Let’s go!

Musical Monday date: 4/6/2020

Musical: Nice Work if You Can Get It

Book, Music, and Lyrics: Joe DiPietro, George Gershwin, and Ira Gershwin

Broadway Run: April 24, 2012 - June 15, 2013

Awards Won: Tony Award for Best Performance by an Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical (Michael McGrath),  Best Performance by an Actress in a Featured Role in a Musical (Judy Kaye)/Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Book of a Musical, Outstanding Featured Actor in a Musical (Michael McGrath), Outstanding Featured Actress in a Musical (Judy Kaye).

Other: In addition to Best Musical and its two Tony wins, Nice Work if You Can Get It received nominations for Best Book of a Musical, Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role in a Musical (Kelli O’Hara), Best Choreography (Kathleen Marshall), Best Direction of a Musical (Kathleen Marshall), Best Orchestrations (Bill Elliot), Best Costume Design of a Musical (Martin Pakledinaz), Best Sound Design of a Musical (Brian Ronan).

Fun Fact: Nice Work if You Can Get It serves as Kathleen Marshall’s only time she was double-nominated (Direction, Choreography) and did not win either award. She was double-nominated for her work as Director and Choreographer in the revivals of Wonderful Town (2004), The Pajama Game (2006), and Anything Goes (2011); all three garnered wins for Best Choreography. 

Nice Work if You Can Get It has a wonderful Gershwin, enhanced by Bill Elliot’s fun orchestrations. It’s a perfect selection for a rainy day listen while you’re sheltering in place. Unfortunately I did not make it to the Imperial Theater to see this fun show, but maybe a regional company will do it someday! Stay tuned for next week when we move on over to another Best Musical nominee of the 2012 Tony season. Until then, stay safe, listen to musicals, and wash your hands!

Gabriel Vega Weissman

Hometown?

Rockville Centre, NY. 

Where are you now?

Brooklyn, NY.

What's your current project?

I’m gearing up to spend the summer at the Hangar Theatre in Ithaca, NY as a Drama League Director’s Project fellow. I’m also writing a new play with my longtime writing partner, Brian Reno.

Why and how did you get into theatre?

When I was 7 I saw Matthew Broderick in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. I would say I was generally intrigued by “The Company Way,” mesmerized by “I Believe in You” and by “Brotherhood of Man” I had decided I wanted to be a professional actor. I think that was because it (my first experience at the theatre) felt like such present, visceral storytelling. I had always loved books and movies, and I had my parents read to me before bed until an embarrassing age; theatre felt like a much richer version of the principles I responded to so much. I acted through school and when I graduated I took personal assistant work with Athol Fugard and Martin Pakledinaz (the late and great costume designer), which had a profound impact on me and helped me to consider a life on the other side of the table.

What is your directing dream project?

I suppose it’s less of a dream project and more of a career goal, but I would love to spend my career, in part, interpreting all of the works of Athol Fugard. I think Athol is an extraordinary artist who has lived an extraordinary life. There is always something to learn from him. I find his writing healing and I would be honored to share his stories with audiences.

What kind of theatre excites you?

I love plays that teach me about people. A theme that recurs in my work is “home." What does one’s home say about who they are? When I work on a play I strive to discover what home means to each character as well as each artist involved in the piece. To me, home is a smaller piece of a bigger idea: identity. So, I’m excited by writers such as Fugard, August Wilson, Eugene O’Neill, Lorraine Hansberry, Sophocles, Lynn Nottage, Conor McPherson, Amy Herzog (and many, many others) who explore this theme.

What do you want to change about theatre today?

I want to take some of the pressure and competition out of being an early career theatre artist. Everywhere you turn there’s another huge hurdle. There must be more forums that will take chances on early career artists and allow them to have opportunities to learn and grow.

What is your opinion on getting a directing MFA?

I think there’s a myth or an idea that if you go to a certain school you will immediately be propelled into a full and vibrant career. I think some people treat gradate school like a short cut (or hope that it will be), and I think that’s a shame. If you feel you’re at a point in your career/life where you want to revisit how you do what you do, if you want to develop a stronger community of artists around you, if you value higher education then graduate school seems like a good option for you. I go back and forth, and I’m ok with that. Some years I apply and some years I hold off. If I go, I want it to be because I want to spend three years working on myself. That may be next year or it could be five years down the line.

Who are your theatrical heroes?

When I was a kid or teenager, this list would have been populated with people I didn’t know. As an adult, the list is made up mostly of people I know and have worked with who have moved and taught me. The list is too long, but I’ll name a few from all disciplines and in no particular order: Colman Domingo, Lisa Peterson, Ruben Santiago-Hudson, Susan Hilferty, Amy Morton, Dominique Morisseau, Pam MacKinnon, Martin McDonagh, Ralph Fiennes, Donald Holder, Al Pacino, Myra Lucretia Taylor, Jim Dale, Athol Fugard, Sharon Washington, Rajiv Joseph, David Lander, Jess Goldstein, André Holland, Reed Birney,  Natasha Katz, Rob Milburn, Michael Bodeen, Michael Shannon and the late and great Martin Pakledinaz and Roger Rees.

Any advice for directors just starting out?

Get in the room! More specifically get in rooms. Don’t be snobby. Meet people. I began as an assistant to the playwright - I never wanted to be a playwright (though I am now) - but it allowed me to not only meet a room full of extraordinary artists, but observe a director at work. I come from an acting background, so when I decided to be a director I had zero experience. I tried to get myself into as many rooms as I could: rehearsal processes, readings, symposiums, theatre lobbies (you never know who you’ll see or meet). Know your community. Know the names of the theatres in your community. Know the names of the people who run them, try to know what they look like. Try to know as much as you possibly can - to set yourself up for success in the future. Also, you must generate your own work. For me, space is the most challenging part of that. But even if at the very beginning you get a bunch of actors in a room to read and talk about a play you’ve always wanted to work on, you will be practicing your craft.

Plugs!

I so wish I could see Archduke by Rajiv Joseph and directed by Giovanna Sardelli, which is currently playing at the Center Theatre Group in LA. These are two artists I admire so much, if you’re in the LA area - be sure to check it out!

My website: www.gabrielvegaweissman.com