Jenni Munday in conversation with Julia Pascal, playwright and scholar.  Julia reveals insights into the background and writing of her play " Happy as God in France", and reads an excerpt from it.  Julia  also discusses her play "The Honey Pot" . 

More about " Happy as God in France"

Genre DRAMA

Length FULL LENGTH

Characters

Hannah Arendt at 33                                            

 Charlotte Salomon at 25                                 

 Eva Daube   at 16                                                 

 Agathe Blumenfeld at 50                          

 Trude Gottlieb  at 22  

Other roles are taken by the ensemble.

As Happy As God in France. 

The title references the joyful Yiddish invented by  Jews in appreciation of their new status as equal citizens in post-Revolutionary France. Its use here is ironic as the play explores French antisemitism In May 1940, German Jewish exiles, seeking refuge in France were ordered to report as  'Undesirables'.  Of those 8,000 women were deported to the largest of the many camps near the Spanish border.  This drama focuses on the largest of these, Gurs, whose history is hardly known.

This text  investigates the false dream of safety in France through the lens of three  German Jewish women: thirty-four-year-old, political writer, Hannah Arendt; sixteen-year-old schoolgirl Eva Daube and twenty-four-year-old painter, Charlotte Salomon. They were incarcerated during in the chaotic days between armistice and occupation. The action of this play focuses on a decision of whether to stay, and hope for liberation, or escape in to a dangerous landscape.

As Happy As God in France explores major events of the twentieth century as experienced by these women. Themes include the French betrayal of Revolutionary values, the abandonment of the Jews, sex, love, art, politics, resistance, survival, suicide and escape.   It is the first play about Arendt, Salomon and Daube in Gurs.

The facts

Hannah Arendt was in Gurs in 1940 for eight weeks. Charlotte Salomon is believed to have been incarcerated there before she was murdered in Auschwitz. Eva Daube was in Gurs. Agathe Blumenfeld and Trude Gottlieb are created from research in this hidden history.

 The play was completed in 2020 and has had no productions.

To contact Julia about this play go to her website and use the contact form. 

www.juliapascal.org

If you enjoyed this podcast or would like to ask Hulia a question, log in to the site and leave a comment. 

When she was married to an Iranian, Eliza's interest in Muslim social and religious practice was acute and her interest has endured into the present.

Eliza reads from a play that combines elements from an earlier play she was commissioned to write about Cliterodectomy.

That play was not allowed to be performed at a university theatre festival in Turkey, because of its subject matter. Later, she incorporated it into another play about some actors rehearsing two short plays against a background of Muslim restrictions that require women actors to wear face coverings. That later play is titled Blue Sky Thinking and is available on Amazon.

by Bara Swain

Fast forward.  My second monologue selected for “Climbing the Walls” has a comical history.  In response to a call for submissions for another Zoom opportunity, Theatre is the Cure (TITC), I followed their specific guidelines – and that’s an understatement.  The writing prompts were: (1) Theme: With/in / With/out (interpret as you like); (2) Prop: Something you’ll die without; (3): Location: somewhere dark, (4) Line: Nowhere but here, (5) Actor: wiry female, 20 something, funny, intense, androgynous but not boyish, adorable.

Yikes!  With less than 12 hours to write, I dripped a pot of coffee, obsessed, googled, cranked out a monologue, submitted and waited for my acceptance or rejection notice.  Several hours later, I received a gentle reprimand.  “Your monologue is too long.”  Browsing the instructions again, I noticed that I overlooked one important element of the challenge:  a strict time limit of two minutes.  My unspectacled eyes misread the number and I crafted my piece for a time-frame of seven minutes.   Over the next few hours, I redirected my energy and dashed out a two-minute monologue and hit the “send” button.  Whoop whoop!  The Golden Girls was selected for performance.

What I learned:  Read the instructions.  Then read them again. Acknowledge your errors and be grateful for a flexible Artistic Director.  Communication is key.  In fact, the “twenty something, wiry, adorable actress” was unavailable.  I reached out to a twenty something, wiry, adorable actress whose work I observed at the recent FAB Zoom.  Jessica Washington, whom I never met before, was cast in the role and, subsequently, invited to return for another program.  This type of networking serves the company, the actress and the playwright.

Danielle Bourgeois in YOU MIGHT AS WELL 

https://www.studiotheaterinexile.com/news/climbing-the-walls-you-might-as-well-bara-swain (inspired by a prompt from "Theatre is the Cure."

Yikes!  But what should I do with my original submission?  I wrote a second draft of You Might as Well and reached out to Mara Mills to see if she’d consider a second monologue.  Upon acceptance, I incorporated several of her notes and brought actress Danielle Bourgeois on board under the direction of Christian Haines, a California resident.  In fact, I’d only met Christian weeks earlier when he was assigned to direct my Zoom play, Carolina in the Morning, as a first-time playwright applicant with Shotz-Amios.  I was eager to work with him again. This experience differed from the live Zoom events that I’d participated in previously and, truthfully, it was another wonderful collaboration.  With a stage and film background, Christian experimented with the Zoom format.  You can see his results and judge for yourself.

CAROLINA IN THE MORNING, directed by Christian Haynes

What I learned:  Mutual respect is the foundation for artistic relationships.  And it’s a win-win. Evaluate the abilities of your colleagues and their enthusiasm.  And give back!  This duo will be invited to our next program at Urban Stages.  Oh, I also learned that a rehearsal can be ruined by a thunderstorm.  Check the weather, playwrights, when you’re scheduling a final rehearsal!

Meanwhile, I’ve had the opportunity to write several more monologues intended for Zoom with different outcomes.  During a 24-hour challenge with Vintage Soul Productions, I wrote three five-minute monologues for three specific actors who self-directed their performances – off-book! – over an eight-hour span.  Another monologue, You Can’t Argue with Fact, written for a recent TITC challenge was accepted and performed live last Friday under the direction of the Artistic Director, Hannah Logan, just as I was entering tech weekend for another project with Planet Connections Play Fest.

What I learned:  When actors are self-directing their work, make sure that their audio-visuals are working.  One monologue in Vintage Soul Productions could only be heard in a whisper.  That was disappointing.  Another monologue wasn’t fully realized due to misinterpretation of the time and place.  The most successful piece was where the actress reached out to me with questions about the text, context and transitions.  Playwrights, be open to communicating with your actors.  Exchange contact information!

Moving on: On Monday evening, The Southern Comfort Plays (a trilogy of short plays), opened and closed.  Yes, it was a one-night event. For this opportunity, I chose director Kim T. Sharp, a colleague of mine at my former stomping ground and my current home at Urban Stages.  These pieces were not written for the Zoom platform and, under Kim’s guidance, I made revisions to the story and tweaked the physical action.  The Planet Connection Associate Artistic Director cast the three plays and a rehearsal schedule was finally confirmed.  The rehearsal process for this presentation was intense but very satisfying.  The technical elements working on Zoom were challenging, from entrances and exits, to overlapping dialogue (it doesn’t work on Zoom), to the use of stage directions.   I was particularly impressed by the skills Kim displayed, from his supportive tone and his listening skills, to his discussions on character development. The cast of The Southern Comfort Plays were committed, professional, and hard-working.  Where I fell short as a playwright, their enthusiasm and gratitude sustained me. 

THE SOUTHERN COMFORT PLAYS, a trilogy, directed by Kim T. Sharp

Planet Connections Zoom Fest

What I learned:  Know your venue and ask, in writing, what the expectations are for the guest artists.  After the fact, we learned that a technical director was assigned to the performance. In retrospect, our learning curve on Zoom has grown in leaps and bounds due to this oversight.  In all fairness, a designated stage manager was also offered to assist early on in the process.  We dropped the ball there.  Again, know the roles of each member of the “team” involved, from playwright to director to the producing organization … and the actors.  Are they union?  Non-union?  Respect everyone’s role.

In conclusion:  Zoom is a platform that enables theatre artists to continue to create during this unprecedented time.  With all of its flaws and impracticalities, until our remaining theatres open and it’s safe for audiences to fill the houses, it’s a great and sustainable way to stay motivated, set goals, take risks, and be productive.  The Zoom cloud may be challenging and, yes, you may be elated, disappointed or frustrated with the process and the product!  But it’s a wonderful opportunity to build community, nurture relationships and begin new ones, as well.  (Thank you, Mara!)   

Yes, it’s a learning curve but here’s the bottom line:  If you’re not in the game, you can’t play.  So let’s keep playing, playwrights!

In the meanwhile, stay safe, everyone.  Oh, and if anyone can suggest a mnemonic for differentiating wild cats, send it my way!

The article is reprinted courtesy of Mara Mills, Artistic Director, Studio Theater in Exile: www.studiotheatreinexile.com

Here are some of my upcoming Zoom projects:

UNFATHOMABLE, The Group Rep Theatre, CA

FOLDED, Warner Theatre’s 9^th International Playwright Festival

FOLDED, Theatre Workshop of Owensboro

ALL MOTHERS WERE SUMMONED, Ego Actus Virtual Play Reading Series

JOANNA HOGG, Women in History, FAB@Barrow Group

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW, Pastiche Series

RESPONSIBLE, Greenhouse Ensemble Quarantine Series

THE AFFIRMATION PLAYS (audio), Borderless Productions

UNFATHOMABLE, The Group Theatre, CA

by Bara Swain

My anxiety level peaked last week when I couldn’t recall the words “kiwi” and “chili.”  I also summoned my Chihuahua, “Let’s take a walk, Melulah,” and asked my granddaughter, “Please pass me the red crayon, Tallinka.”  Neither my granddaughter, Tallulah, nor my beloved canine, Melinka, were nonplused.  That was reassuring.

Bara's granddaughter

Indeed, the strain of this uncertain and unprecedented time has been stressful and challenging, with coronavirus statistics and news headlines and media taking center stage in our fragile world.  No one has been spared the repercussions of today’s pandemic, no one! … including theatre artists and our communities.

Enter Zoom.

The first time that I participated in a Zoom chat was with my immediate family.  I swore and cried while I fiddled on my iPhone for entry, my only source for access due to a malfunctioning sound system on an antiquated laptop. (Why, oh, why didn’t I get it repaired last summer?)  By the time I navigated the cloud platform, I was in a full-blown tantrum, assuaged by my two year old niece’s acknowledgement, “I like your shirt, Aunt Bara.”  (It was an animal print.  Possibly a jaguar, a lion or a tiger.)

Since my first Zoom experience, a loaner MacBook Air has enabled me to fully participate as a guest and participant on this modern video communication platform.  And I embraced every opportunity that I could!  With nothing to bookend my days in solitary, I pounded the keys of my computer with purpose, searched festival listings, submission opportunities and one challenge after the other.  (I also made three new best friends: an indoor bicycle, an electric coffee pot, and low dose Ativan.)

What have I learned?  What are the pros and cons for a playwright on this cloud platform?

While I continued to acknowledge my accomplishments with a double-order of turkey bacon or a pint of ice-cream, I learned that plays submitted prior to the shutdown that were intended for the stage were not as successful as pieces written specifically for the modern medium.  I watched with a critical eye while several of my one-acts were presented via Zoom:  My Heart Will Go On (Crafton Hills New Works Festival) and Folded (Geneva Theatre Guild Playwrights Play Reading Series), as well as inhouse Zoom readings of The Wonder of You (Shawnee Playhouse) and a monologue, Joanna Hogg (FAB @ Barrow Group). As a playwright who usually prefers a seat in a middle row of the house during the rehearsal process and performance, I was intimidated by the immediacy of simply “checking in.”  In preparation for my first event, I washed and moussed my unruly hair, embraced a new moustache depilatory and smiled with loose dentures, hoping that I looked a decade younger than the image on my half-fare metro card. 

These initial experiences illustrated the most difficult adjustment for both playwrights and actors during performance:  There is no audience response on the Zoom platform.  While talkbacks play a critical role in play development, audible reactions are missing.  “Did that particular section work?”  “Was that line offensive or amusing or gasp-worthy?”  “Where did I lose the audience’s attention?”  “Did the ending land?  And was it satisfactory?”  I exited Zoom rooms utilizing my basic math skills.  “If there were 70 participants at the top of the show, and there were 48 at the end of the performance, then 22 audience members left.”  What?  Hmm.  Aghh!  I’m a failure.

Setting aside my own insecurities, my first opportunities to write for the Zoom platform were validating and, yes, exciting!  When I was selected for Primary Stages’ “Coronalogues,” I was assigned two theatre artists:  actress Lizzy Jarret and director Emily Hartford.  To set the groundwork, I spent several hours speaking to – let me rephrase – interrogating my actress. In the shadow of the Smokey Mountains, I discovered that the displaced New Yorker liked roles that were “edgy” and, specifically, “tough, headstrong women.”  Lizzy was particularly curious about the theme of “being surrounded by death.”  Since most of my writing is informed by illness and loss, we were a great match.  Next, I asked her questions:  Can you do a southern accent or a cartwheel?  Will you show me your bedroom, your bathroom, your wallet?  Do you wear eyeglasses, PPE, a favorite scarf?  Do you have a hobby, sex toys, a pet?  What’s your family dynamic, your sister’s name, your place of birth?  Finally, I found my hook! – and Seventy-Seven was born, honing in on both of our strengths and accommodating Lizzy’s non-urban location – her uncle’s rural cabin in North Carolina with rustic furniture, picturesque landscaping and an unreliable internet connection.  I drafted the script, cut it to three minutes, and handed it over to our director. Once again, I felt like I’d won the lottery.  Emily was a generous, enthusiastic and conscientious director, whose goal was to serve the writer’s voice. Kudos to this theatre artist for surpassing my expectations with her creative choices – yes, the location was the bathroom! – and for supporting the story through her imaginative lens.

What I learned:  Zoom can be a platform where intimacy and trust can be nurtured.  It’s also an excellent way to expand your network of theatre professionals and identify individuals with whom you’d like to work with again.

Part 2 will be posted in the coming weeks... The article is reprinted courtesy of Mara Mills, Artistic Director, Studio Theater in Exile: www.studiotheatreinexile.com

Bara Swain's plays and monologues have been performed across the country in more than 165 venues in 25 states and abroad.  

www.BaraSwain.com

by Carolyn Gage

Dr. Janice Liddell is an author, playwright, and retired professor and Assistant Vice President for Academic Affairs and Coordinator of Faculty Development at Atlanta Metropolitan College. She also served on faculty at Clark Atlanta University for nearly 35 years, as a professor of English, department chairperson and director of faculty development.

Dr Janice Liddell

Carolyn: Janice, you and I met online about fifteen years ago, I believe… on an international chat list of women playwrights.  And I remember you wrote a play titled Who Will Sing for Lena?  This is a one-woman play that gives voice to Lena Baker, a black woman who killed her abusive white employer in self-defense. Using the actual trial transcripts, you wrote a play that would enable audiences to understand her background and her motivation. That play has had a strong track record… and even a film?

Janice: Yes, Carolyn we met on the ICWP chat list and, as I recall, we left the chat about the same time for some similar small “p” political reasons related to our respective identities as minorities on the list. I guess it would be in bad taste to go into any more detail. (lol)

Carolyn: Well, not to keep readers in suspense, we were frustrated in our respective efforts to confront racism and homophobia. And, in fairness, it was fifteen years ago.

by Sandra Seaton

In February 2019 I received the news that I had been awarded a commission from the Washington National Opera at The Kennedy Center. There were approximately 85 semi- finalists for the award. My commission as librettist (author of the story line and words) and the commission of the composer, Carlos Simon, constitutes a team for the creation of a new opera. 

In September I went to DC for a week of rehearsals at the Washington National Opera's rehearsal hall with the composer, conductor, singers. This was the first time I had heard it sung. It was wonderful! On Saturday, September 21st there was a workshop performance at the REACH, a brand-new facility at the Kennedy Center.

On Friday, January 10th, I returned to DC for the premiere at the Kennedy Center's Terrace Theatre.

Marlen Nahhas, left, and Alexandra Nowakowski perform in Liliya Ugay’s “Woman of Letters.” (Scott Suchman/The Kennedy Center)

I am so lucky the premiere was in January 2020. By March everything in DC was closed.

Is this the first time you’ve undertaken a project like this? 

I've been a librettist previously. I collaborated with composer William Bolcom on the monodrama From The Diary of Sally Hemings.However, this is my first actual opera.  (I have written a musical and plays with music as a character, but that is not the same as opera.)

Since this was a commission, I started the process with three short proposals. The WNO liked one of my ideas the best. I then proceeded to write drafts in pieces and send them to the composer. I'm always excited about daydreaming about characters, living in their world. I believe in writing--creating characters and situations when I am doing things around the house, going for a walk, washing dishes, folding clothes--anytime I am doing something that I don't have to concentrate on, the writing takes over. The composer and I talked about my text. He set parts of it to music. I did a number of rewrites. We workshopped the piece in DC. Four months later it premiered.  The words were always first.

by Lynette Grace

Growing up I had always enjoyed reading various books by Dr. Seuss. After “Horton Hears a Who,” I also enjoyed reading, “Oh, the places you’ll go by Dr. Seuss.” I had no idea the places one simple act of kindness would take me or the people it would bring into my act.

I was working in Atlanta, GA when I received a phone call from home that my Mom had died unexpectedly in her sleep. After attending her funeral I decided to visit with a woman who I considered to be my Spiritual mother and her family from my hometown of Ohio before returning to work. After going to bed I was awakened suddenly to what I determined to be an argument between my friend and her 16 year old Son.

I got up to investigate but not to pry. To my horror I found that my Spiritual mother had been stabbed to death in the basement at the hands of her 16 year old son. Without provocation for reasons un-known to me he began stabbing me.

He was convicted of involuntary manslaughter for killing his mother and also received time for his felonious assault crime against me. I felt compelled to visit him in prison for answers as to why such a beautiful woman had to die. At our meeting he cried more than I did. He had gotten into trouble for stealing cars and breaking in houses and wasn’t supposed to be on the phone. When she kept catching him on the phone they started arguing and the argument escalated into him stabbing her to death.

Since I was able to speak with him I received some answers to the questions that had been haunting me for years. It was almost time to leave the prison’s visiting room when he unexpectedly asked if I could forgive him for his actions against me. It didn’t take long for me to realize that since life had given me a second chance at life I couldn’t do less for him than to forgive him. I told him yes I could forgive him for his actions against me.

He shared that with me visiting with and forgiving him it was as if a burden had been lifted off of him and he was able after all these years to be able to forgive himself. I too found that my visits with him helped to ease the survivor’s guilt I was feeling since I survived the attack and his mother had not.

Soon after that I began to travel and to share my story of forgiveness and healing with others. Since he showed remorse and accountability for his actions and took the classes required for him to take I took a letter of support for him to the parole board. Unfortunately when the powers that be realized I was his victim our visits were discontinued.

It has given me the opportunity to give testimony at the Senate and at the House of Representatives for bills going through legislation to give youths an opportunity to go before the parole board. I welcome the opportunity to share my story especially if anyone could be helped by it. My journey of forgiveness has taken me to Canada, London, England and Washington, D.C., where I have made great friends and have met a lot of fine people. After reading the story on the “Forgiveness Project Website,” a man came from Belgium to include our story in his book called “Hotel Pardon.”  I share the story in Prisons, Churches and Universities wherever I am invited to share the story of Forgiveness. My hope is that through my story of forgiveness that they can find healing and forgiveness not only for others that may have harmed them but for forgiveness for themselves as well. Oh the places forgiveness will take you if you will allow it to.

Lynette D. Grace lives and works in Columbus, Ohio. You can email her at: Doorkeeper90@gmail.com

By Christine Emmert

I retired some years ago from the work a day world.  My husband has more recently done so. We hoped for time to do our creative season – my writing and theater, his visual artwork.  We lived modestly at the edge of a national park.  We traveled once or twice a year, lunched and dinnered with friends, and went to selective concerts or plays.  Rarely did we answer the phone.  Even more rarely did we talk of joining clubs and organizations.  To some people we might have seemed halfway to quarantine.   Time was draining away now.  We were officially “elderly.”  The coronavirus reminded us of our mortality.  We wanted solitude, not solitary.  

               In the medieval world epidemics and pandemics must have been more frightening.  There was no easy way to know what was going on beyond your immediate life.  In this pandemic we could be both well-versed and well-informed.  When it struck our state, our county, our township we did not have to take it personally. Is the virus punishing us?  Are we confined to solitary or endowed with a time of solitude in which to reflect?

               Although I love my home and my husband, I see the pitfalls of having no safety valves when tensions are ready to blow. I see the longing to travel without getting into a car or train or airplane. I see what the Buddhist called Impermanence.   I see the possibility of death without warning.  This is what real solitude offers me.  Doesn’t matter if I want it.  I am pinned in place by the invisible handof a virus that did not exist in my vocabulary six months ago.  I cannot move away.  I am detained by solitude.

Christine works as a freelance writer and educator in addition to her theatre credits. She has been published and performed throughout the English speaking world. Most recently she was premiered on Cape Cod this summer in PETER PAN'S MOTHER. Her play, FROM OUT THE FIERY FURNACE, has been touring the last four years for the National Park Service. She recently published THE NUN'S DRAGON, a novel, on Amazon Kindle.

by Patricia Milton (USA)

Our Toolkit Exchange chats are virtual sharing sessions where ICWP members share practices, tools, books, apps, and more, that aid them in their craft. It’s a fascinating process to tune in to others’ artistic journeys, and it’s a pleasure to offer this recap of our latest Toolkit Exchange session.

Dale Griffith Stamos (USA)

says that she uses focus music on iTunes. “I put on headphones for a specified writing time, and as I become immersed, it enhances my writing.” She recommends Lajos Egros’ book, “The Art of Dramatic Writing.” Dale says, “Sometimes completing the character profiles (in the book) seems arbitrary, but as you go forward, they start to actually dimensionalize your characters.”

Dale is a writing teacher and leads workshops on Story Structure for all genres. She urges, “Fill the notebook. Before I ever put anything into a form, I fill a notebook with character bios, structure questions, the inciting incident, notes, and dialogue. If I follow my protagonist down one path, and I don’t like it, I choose another path.

When I get stuck, I write down the reasons I think I’m stuck.” Dale also recommends the book by Buzz McLaughlin, The Playwrights Process. “It’s a nice framework to use when starting work. Write what you know, and write what you can imagine. Plot is story, story is plot; you have to externalize the internal.”

Mayura Baweja (India)

came to writing after being an actor and director. “These other aspects of the craft can be obstructions, as I tend to overthink the writing,” Mayura says.

“To overcome that, I use a box of wooden children’s blocks. I set them up like a stage, or a space where I can create a structure.

This gives me a sense of the world of the play. I create the space and ask, ‘Where could this action happen? What could happen here? Who could be standing here? Where can it lead?’

It’s exciting to think that anything can happen in that space.”

Tavi Juarez (USA)

devotes one hour every day to creative practice – which can be writing, painting, or dancing. “I listen to people on the train, eavesdropping, letting my imagination go wild. It’s giving myself time devoted entirely to the creative process.”

Tavi also utilizes NYCPlaywrights.org, a useful board with production and publication opportunities for playwrights. When writing dialogue, Tavi says she writes the people she knows. “I try to hear their voices and use their words. How would Steven say this? It’s a great tool for authenticity.”

Vivienne Glance ( Australia)

reports that, “All theater is Theater of the Mind, and what happens on stage is an illusion. Our minds ask ‘What’s the story?’

There is a moment when the audience is there, in silence, in the dark, and what do we as playwrights offer in that moment? ” Vivienne continues, “At the beginning of a project, I turn off spell check and grammar check and change the font to white, so I can’t see what I’m typing.

Trust yourself, you will misspell things, but don’t look, don’t edit.” As a former actor, Vivienne writes character sketches. “I need to know who they are. Character is action, as Aristotle says. I need to understand what choices they’ll make. I believe if you write about something that only you can write about, it becomes universal.”

Donna Gordon (USA)

recommends a book by Jeffrey Sweet, “The Dramatists Toolkit”: the author writes about the shape of the story, how to work out a plot, and more. She says she always creates an outline, though she doesn’t always follow it.

Donna says, “I’m a bits and pieces writer. I put together plays like a quilt. I tie the pieces together – things I’m passionate about. I take topics from the news, too, and develop those.”

Camille Worrell (USA)

notes, “Physical activity rejuvenates me: running, or working out. And there’s something about taking a shower, or a bubble bath, that motivates me. Attention to the writing space is also helpful. I set up a space, with the right lighting, and classical music or light jazz. I have a writing partner; we write together and it’s motivating. I meet with another friend who is a poet, and we critique each other’s work.”

My own contribution to the group session was my use of a tomato timer. It’s a little plastic wind-up timer that ticks down the minutes. It helps encourage me to contain the time in which I am writing, although often I reset it and go for more. There is a technique called the Pomodoro Method that I often use to create intense short bursts of concentration, punctuated by “intermissions,” or breaks.

As I learn from these generous artists in our virtual Chats, my own craft grows and flourishes. Heartfelt thanks to all who have joined me in these Toolkit exchanges.

If you missed the first post in this tool sharing series read it here

To join in future online chats with ICWP Members, become a member here: 

https://www.womenplaywrights.org/membership-application

By June Guralnick

Dear Bev:

Damn, it’s getting f*ing weird out there! Agent Orange is singing the praises of guzzling bleach, Etsy’s hawking hot COVID jewelry, and today’s headline, “Lobbyists and strip clubs fighting to get PPP Loans,” is a shoe-in for a Lifetime TV movie. Girl, I SO need a dose of your appassionato for the absurd and your demonic sweet smile - like a big carnival sign flashing “Welcome to Beverle’s Funhouse!”

Hell, no, we didn’t use Zo(o)m-bie to catch up a few weeks back, just the good ol’ fashioned phone (thank you, Mr. Bell). We exchanged our theatre ‘what’s up’ news; you finally got to see Hamilton ‘Before the Pandemic’ (B.P.) and I bitched about the fate of my new play, Little ♀. Can you believe I finally summon the chutzpah to write about my less than merry childhood and the blasted drama gets Covid Coitus Interruptus at dress (yeah, I can muster a wry smile at my play’s doomed fate).

I don’t want to go all Now Voyager on you - but your faith in and support of my work these many years have meant more than you’ll ever know.

There’s a scene in Little ♀ where three sisters (Jo, Marge and Aimee) discover the headstone of Beth, the sister they never knew they had. Aimee movingly recites El Maley Rachamin (the Jewish prayer of loss) at her sister’s grave.

At your funeral last week, when the cantor chanted El Maley Rachamim, my gut spilled out. NO, I’m sorry, I can’t follow those orderly six stages of grief, and yes, I’m still angry at you for leaving. If ever there was a time this world needed your enlightened, Theatre Shaman spirit, it’s now.

Theatre and life, Bev…such a thin line.

It would be great to hear a few of those macabre theatre tidbits you always had waiting in the wings. Maybe the one about Shakespeare performing Lady Macbeth when the boy playing the role suddenly died - or how about the permanently bolted seats at the Palace Theatre left empty for ghosts (ostensibly to spook bad actors)?

“You were intellectual – but common,” the cantor told us. For anyone who didn’t know you, that would sound like a putdown. But when I knocked on your college door for advice on how to create a neon Vegas effect on stage (with zero moolah), you took me to the five and dime for Christmas light tubing. Brilliant! Yeah, you were erudite - but you also knew how to make a purse from a sow’s ear (or a sword from a garbage can lid).

You would have gotten a kick out of the costumes, singing and stories at your funeral. But the cantor wore dayglow-green gloves and a mask, and most of us were far away, watching as they lowered your coffin into the ground. Dying during a pandemic – well – you know.

At a virtual “Theatre on Zoom” workshop I barely survived last night, you would have gone ape shit (hell, it was all I could do to not bludgeon my laptop to Microsoft Kingdom Come). Disembodied heads can never replace live theatre! It’s the blood, sweat and tears, bodies listening, laughing and crying TOGETHER, that make theatre powerful and transformational (along with the spit flying from an actor’s mouth on lines like “to be or not to be,” projecting what it means to be a human being on this crazy, spinning planet we call home).

One thing I’m glad you missed - the fifty plus page PACC Guide to Reopening Theatrical Venues I forced myself to read this morning before my head imploded.

Dozens of red, yellow and green charts blinked one message– live theatre is up shit’s creek until this virus has a vaccine. Although the image conjured in my mind of socially distanced audience members dressed in clothing fashioned from garbage bags, sporting ancient Greek tragedy masks painted on their N-95’s, is something I would pay money to see. Masque for a Pandemic, methinks?

A lot of the time now I sit at my desk, jabbing at my frozen-in-fear pen, pretending I still know what day it is - and that stupid things, like not having soft toilet paper (heh – I’ve got Crohn’s so cut me some slack) really matters. One bright spot is that my next play has become crystal clear. In 1919, during the Spanish Flu’s second wave, dissenters in San Francisco formed the Anti-Mask League and held a mass public meeting with over two thousand people. A hundred plus years later – ain’t it grand! – some folks haven’t changed. It will be two acts, each taking place during a pandemic a century apart, and death-gallows-laugh-out-loud! (There’s ‘laughter on call’ now, Bev – people are desperate for comedy.) What other response can a writer have to the insane and dangerous stupidity around us? “There is more stupidity than hydrogen in the universe, and it has a longer shelf life” (Frank Zappa).

Oooooh, you’d love this – drive-in movies are popular again and they’re showing musicals! “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise” (Les Miserables). Merci bien!

Better run. The wind is howling up a Tempest – prime time to stand in the street and scream without attracting the paddy wagon.

You know I love and miss you, right?

“Thou who dwellest on high, grant perfect rest beneath the sheltering wings of Thy presence, among the holy and pure who shine as the brightness of the firmament unto the soul of Beverle Bloch.” (El Maley Rachamim)

I’ll write again soon, dear Bev.

XOXO June

“For the story is not ended

And the play never done …” (The Fantastiks)

June Guralnick has created plays, performance projects, and large-scale community cultural projects for four decades. Her works have been performed throughout the U.S. – and beamed to the Space Station! Awards include the Silver Medal-Pinter Drama Review Prize, Second Place-Judith Royer Award for Playwriting Excellence, North Carolina Arts Council Literature Fellowship, Southern Appalachian Repertory New Plays winner, Virginia Center for the Creative Arts Writing Fellows, Hambidge Center for the Arts Writer-in-Residence, and Sewanee Writers’ Conference Tennessee Williams Scholar (University of the South). This spring June looks forward to facilitating creative writing workshops for veterans through The Joel Fund as well as serving as program coordinator for the Sally Buckner Emerging Writers’ Fellowship. Her new full-length play, LITTLE ♀, will hopefully receive its postponed premiere staged reading at Burning Coal Theatre in partnership with Justice Theatre in the not too distant future. For more info, visit https://juneguralnick.com/