If you don't know much about the reading and staged reading process of developing new plays, you may want to read "The Staged Reading" before reading this critique.

I came into the process of directing Heartfield with a dual perspective-- that of a director of new music theater, and that of a writer of new music theater. Since 1994, I had been working on writing the book for The Hidden Sky, a new music-theater piece with music and lyrics by Peter Foley. Peter and I went through the professional development process for The Hidden Sky at the same time that Ken Vega was developing Heartfield. We were part of a larger group of friends in New York City who are all writing new music theater.

It took six years from the time the first song was written for The Hidden Sky to the time it was fully produced at Prince Music Theater in Philadelphia, one the nation's foremost theaters dedicated to the production of new American musicals. Peter and I won a Richard Rodgers Development Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1996, which gave us a sizeable budget to give to a theater to produce a staged reading of the show with Equity actors. We did this at the Director's Company in New York City in 1997, under the direction of BT McNicholl. Shortly thereafter, Ben Levit, the Artistic Director of Prince Music Theater, expressed interest in the show, and in May of 1998 we did a reading with students from the University of the Arts in Philadelphia. The same students did a workshop production (no sets or costumes; minimal lighting) in October 1998. We then had our full production with Equity actors in March of 2000, directed by Ben Levit and music directed by Wendy Bobitt Cavett.

During our three year development process, we had, like most writers, tried to sort out the useful criticism from the less useful (putting in mildly), and we had re-written the show several times to try to make the story and our artistic intentions clearer. Although we learned some useful things about the text and music, we were frustrated by each reading because there was no way to determine if the crucial visual sequences which we had written into the show (two dreams with important plot elements and a projected mathematical series) were contributing to the telling of the story. These unknowns--which we felt were crucial to the way we wanted The Hidden Sky to be presented--essentially remained unknowns until we were in previews for a large-scale, high budget production of our show. Once the show was up and running, with choreography, orchestrations, lights, costumes, and projections, we felt we could finally see our show-- what was missing, what was too much, and so on. We realized that what we learned from having all the pieces in place was what we had always been wanting to learn from our readings and workshops. We only had a week of previews for The Hidden Sky and there was intense pressure to adjust the show in a very rushed fashion; some of these changes were helpful but others were not artistically satisfying to us.

Perhaps a longer preview period would have enabled us to make more throrough and well-written changes, but by the time a show is in previews, each change has huge ramifications-- for example, extending a lyric in a song means the actor has to learn a new part and possibly new staging, the orchestrator has to reorchestrate the song, the copyists have to recopy the music and all the orchestra parts, and the musicians have to learn the the new music. It is much easier to make changes earlier on, or when everything is on a smaller scale.

I came out of that experience believing that it is crucial to have a small scale production, with at least a semblance of all the elements that would be in a production, to really know what the issues are, before going into a large scale, high-budget production.

My experience of the development process as a writer of new music theater has strongly affected my approach to directing new music theater. I don't believe it is the director's job to be a script doctor. It can be beneficial if, after directing a reading of a piece, a writer and director can analyze the piece together and the director can point out places where the text is not supporting the story or the point the writer thinks he or she is making. But with new theater, I believe a director should direct the story that the writer is trying to tell, in the style in which the writer has written the piece.

The key elements that first drew me to Kenneth Vega's new musical, Heartfield, were the integration of visual art into a theatrical context, and the use of Brechtian devices to present the story. [See "Choosing the Piece."] As Ken strengthened these elements in the text, I tried to support his intentions with the staging. If we had had more time and actors more experienced in developing new work, there would have been more possible for Ken to watch rehearsal, change some of the text, give it to the actors and see how the changes worked. As it was, I approached this production as an opportunity to stage Heartfield as clearly and as entertainingly as possible, so we could all see what Ken--the writer was trying to create. This doesn't mean I didn't have fun or take creative liberties while directing, but in the tradition of Brecht, I was committed to clearly demonstrating what each scene was about through the use of clear staging and gestures to support and illuminate the text.

Many of us, including Ken, ended up feeling like the show was a little too long, and that there was certainly some room to cut some songs and scenes, but I honestly believe it is better for a writer to discover this from seeing a clearly staged production of his work in front of an audience, than from the sometimes misguided comments that come after a reading, which isn't staged at all. Ken and his wife Linda, who has been intimately involved with the show since its inception, came several times to see the production of Heartfield, and both felt like they could see it clearly for the first time. They both expressed how pleased they were with the production and how clear the staging was. From watching the show several times, Ken gained a clear sense of what sections could go, what he would re-write, and what needed elaboration.

The risk of this approach is perhaps loosing some of the audience (and critics) because a piece is too long or the action is not riveting at every single moment. But to me, it is worth this risk to put a dramatist's work up on the stage in a strong form-- a form that comes from the writer's intricate efforts and sweat to make a piece well-crafted and artistically satisfying. Unraveling a work at the last minute may make the story clearer and the evening shorter, but it often removes a layer of depth that is the art of the piece.

Well-crafted theater can be highly entertaining. But art transforms us, and to me, that is where the power and potential of theater lies.

Check out some of Kate's favorite theater and music artists:

Theatre du Soleil

Robert Lepage

Meredith Monk

Laurie Anderson

Robert Wilson

Cirque du Soleil

Peter Gabriel

Good links for writers:

The Dramatists Guild of America

Good links for directors:

The Drama League

Society of Stage Directors and Choreographers (SSDC)