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Jeffrey M. Jones @ CSU

December 5th, 2011 No comments

Jeffrey M. Jones

Trying to catch up on my happenings, as a lot has been going on and I’ve been negligent in my posting. A few weeks ago I went down to Cleveland State University to sit in on a class whose guest was Jeffrey Jones. It was a pretty interesting time just sitting and listening to the stories that Jones was telling about all sorts of things, including his own writing process and current project to tales of his days with and around the Wooster Group in New York and earlier days when theater was just breaking out in the 60s with folks around like Sam Shepard and Fornes and even an early encounter with David Mamet, etc, at the theater door: “It’s Mamet, the writer.” (Sexual Perversity in Chicago). I should make clear, right away, that I’m talking about Jeffrey Jones the playwright (Seventy Scenes Of Halloween) and NOT the pederast movie star of Amadeus fame.

I also heard from David Todd, my one-time professor who now works down south at Otterbein, who had recently referred me to Jones’ blog: http://jeffreymjones.blogspot.com/, which is quite interesting, revealing, and often aggressive: with Jones not being shy about his opinions when it comes to things theatrical. To tell the truth, I wish he posted more often. One entry that I found especially of this type was entitled “How Theatre Works” from 2008: http://jeffreymjones.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-theatre-works.html; and at some point I’ll post a response to it as I found some of what he had to say quite surprising given his own style of play creation and works.

In his talk at CSU, Jones touched on how he created plays: for instance, that he has a strong interest in creating a “pastiche” of other materials, such as Harlequin romances (bodice rippers) and Nixon’s White House tapes, etc. That is creating a collage of materials and seeing what comes out of it. In terms of his process, he says that he likes to set up a rule or process and to follow it to see where it leads. For instance, on the Flea Theater website Jones has a workshop listed which discusses a process that he uses for play creation. For an even more elaborate discussion of Jones’ approach, take a look at Broadway Play Publishers.

In some ways, the very act of creating plays in this manner flies in the face of the traditional notion of the playwright as authority or playwright as author. The notion of “author” has been a subject of much speculation in general over the past thirty to forty years (See Barthes, Derrida, Foucault, etc.). For instance, what to make of a playwright such as Charles Mee and his (re)making project. Me, who does not “write” the words of his play, but instead “orchestrates” the words of others (found texts) into a play. But beyond this, the question was raised in the discussion regarding the “new trend” of “devised theater”–that is, plays being created using a physical process or a theatrical/spatial approach, rather than a scripted approach. Often you’ll find actors and a director working to create plays as an ensemble, possibly using myth, fairy tale, or other found texts as a guide that is then reinterpreted or re-constructed. This approach to playmaking often cuts out the playwright or, in some cases, has been seen by playwrights as a direct attempt to cut the playwright from the process. Jones’ thoughts on this–while being familiar with this approach under various names–including that used by the Wooster Group, or even Shepard/Chaikin–are that playwrights create story and pattern. Playwrights are responsible for the orchestration of events, and Jones felt that this is not a likely outcome from devised theater or spontaneously created pieces. Jones felt that, while actors may be able to create a character or even a series of actions that have some meaning in a given context, they are, in his experience, not likely to be able to create an overarching story, a grand pattern, and that the pieces are unfocused, and thus lose power, energy, and possibly meaning over the course of the event. Playwrights, as the name implies, are supposed to be master builders of story. Playwrights should be familiar with how story works and the energy potentials of its various constructs, rhythms, and events–be they in a beat unit, a scene, or in larger blocks across the play–even if they intend to violate these rules or work against them. Some actors may have an understanding of the constructs, rhythms, and events in story, but most do not. Directors had certainly better.

I have taken steps into this arena of playmaking by pastiche or collage, though not to the extent that Jones has, nor do I have his track record, pedigree, etc. My thesis play, Patterns, for instance, was a collage of generic forms, as well as a collage of various texts brought together to reflect and refract one another: an effort to force meaning to be created by the audience who experiences the play and, in some ways, to deny that I as the playwright am the sole source of meaning with regard to the text. (That is, not to deny my importance entirely.) My play Andrew Jackson ate my Homework: A racial farce, is another example of this approach to playmaking. The problem that I have run into, or have noted to myself, when writing plays that reject the Aristotelian dramatic structure–or at least one of the issues–is where does the play end? Or how do you craft the ending without falling into the trap of “forcing” the ending or dulling the play, somehow–that is, as Jones might have it, without killing the energy, power, and meaning. This is a question of editing and has been addressed in many locations by playwrights smarter than me, one of which I have pointed to before: an interview with Wallace Shawn in an issue of American Theatre. For Jones, the question of where or when a play ends is when you, as playwright, have exhausted the material or your ability to create new things with the material. Or, to use the words from Jones above, when you set up a rule or process and trace it out to see where it leads, it is precisely when you have run out of leads that the play must be done–in one sense. Then there is the cleaning up. For Jones, this represents the other important facet of playwriting, which he posited in a question: “is it tight”? That is, have you gone back into the work and edited every line to make certain that it is as tight and clear and clean as it can be? That there is no fat, no laziness, nothing imprecise? Has the waste from each line been removed?

The event at CSU was lively and important for me, and I look forward to my efforts at revising the plays mentioned above using Jones’ guidance and thoughts for both ending and tightening plays.

Building the Play: I only get my Rocks off when I’m dreaming…

January 28th, 2011 No comments

Or, production meeting blues. The place where reality meets vision. Sort of like running into a brick wall full speed. Some things give and unfortunately they’re all you. Your tooth might leave a mark, but don’t count on it.

So, yeah. What else is there to say? Does it mean the play will stink? God, I hope not. Regardless of the resources not being as anticipated there are many dedicated theater folks working on this play, and I have been assured by Zoldessy that he’s got a solid vision and that it is do-able. The bells and whistles will be shifting lights, crepe, and whatever I roll out of my basement. God knows, with the content, I’ve already emptied out my attic.

I spent the evening up until now in re-writes: it took me 3 hours to get through 21 pages. (Only 28 more to go!) Talked with Mike earlier and got some context for the re-write notes of my earlier post. He helped clarify and map out a plan. Talked with Zoldessy this afternoon. It was constructive. He had draft feedback from Draft 3 that spoke well to changes I intended for Draft 4. I told him I’d turn around the script as soon as possible given his (and the actors I’m sure) interest in getting the thing in their hands asap. The major re-writes, according to the time table we where given at the first production meeting, are due 1/31.

Had a strange moment last night. When I was in college I read a book called Crisis and Story (well, part of it) which was to accompany The Bible. The first book providing context to the latter book. (Not the book of latter day…) Anyway, I have decided to re-set and start reading from the beginning again: Bible, Greek myths, Greek plays, etc. Begin at the beginning because there has been a lot I’ve overlooked in my years and with the MFA coming to a close I will now have to self-motivate, which will not be easy. So, anyway, I open up the book to the first chapter in Crisis and Story and what do you think it’s called? Patterns of Memory. Patterns of Memory. The fact that my play is named Patterns aside… And the thematic message of the chapter? How story shapes identity. How stories are re-interpreted through time to meet the needs of people in that time and how the time in which stories are re-interpreted informs the stories and how the stories, of course, impact that time. To me, it was a sign. A sign I’m on the right track. That taking a moment to “breathe” and look around was warranted. That I can refresh my vision for this play (one last time). Sure, I know, sign shmine. I know I read the book before (part of it–hey, it was undergrad…) so a good argument can be made that all that stuff has just sat latently around in my subconscious dying to get out in some way, and that may be true. But to discover it again at precisely this moment…

So, right now I’m procrastinating, sort of. Avoiding the rest of the task which must be done. Claire Robinson May’s play Mother Tongue is up at Big Box tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday. Saw her just yesterday morning dropping off the kids, and in the reading of Patterns on Tuesday. Lots of the playwriting folks are there tonight. Hope all went well for her. Looking forward to seeing it tomorrow. Got my tickets two weeks ago–glad I did because it’s sold out!

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