With attention spans and the willingness to make and keep commitments seeming to be on the decline, I suppose it’s to be expected that we’d see the advent of “instant theatre,” or the 24-hour play projects. While I’ve seen these promoted in some New York City Off-Off Broadway theatres, the concept has come to Westchester under the auspices of the White Plains Performing Arts Center (WPPAC).
I’ve always been intrigued by these projects as they appeal to my sense of needing a deadline before I write anything. I seem to need the jump start of an imminent goal.
The idea is, a group of playwrights, actors, and directors meet at 7pm on a Friday evening. A random selection process by the organizer results in groups consisting of a playwright, a director and enough actors to pair with each playwright/director combo. After a “getting to know you” period of about an hour, the playwright goes off and writes and has until 7am the next morning to complete a 10-minute play written for the actors assigned. The director and actors show up the next morning and are given the scripts to work on until show time. As you might expect, there is little in the way of production value. Set pieces are whatever is available at the theatre at that particular time.
Of course, as with any community project, you never know who will respond to something like this. There was a registration process with (very) limited vetting. On the Friday evening in question, there were 15 people representing various levels of experience ranging in age from mid 20s to early 70s (that would be me).
The WPPAC Education Coordinator engaged us all in an exercise to help us get to know each other, which was a good idea as we didn’t yet know what the pairings would be. Before the pairings were made, all the writers were given a choice of preselected visual images which were supposed to inspire the written piece.
I have to confess my guilt over judging by first impressions. I found myself making mental notes like, “She would be interesting,” “Like his accent,” and, “Please don’t stick me with her.”
When the smoke cleared, I was paired with a director who is mainly a playwright — Linda, whom I know slightly, and two young women from Brooklyn, Lillie and Paula. The four of us repaired to a quiet spot to talk. For two of the women, English was not their first language (French and Portuguese). They’ve been in the states for less than two years. We all shared a bit about our experiences and how we work and then we all left the theatre; the actors and director to sleep, and me to write.
The Show Must Go On
By the time I got home and had a quick dinner, it was 10pm. I had nine hours to write the play and send it on to the coordinator and the director.
There was a time when being up all night was no big deal. Now, it’s a big deal. I didn’t dare fall asleep as there was no guarantee I’d get up in time to write the play. So fueled with caffeine, I proceeded.
After a few false starts and an aborted attempt to retrofit an old play of mine that has been languishing in a folder, I stumbled onto a premise: A woman asks a close friend to seduce her husband.
At 3am, I was ready to push “Send.” Truth be told, I wasn’t sure the play was ready, but my fatigue had rendered any further self-editing pointless. As Lorne Michaels once said about Saturday Night Live, “The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30.”
At 8:45 that morning, I received an email from Linda with some questions, starting with, “Are you awake?” and my reply, “Well, my eyes are open, but that’s about it.” In my sleep deprived state and with the actors arriving in 15 minutes, I addressed her questions the best I could.
I made it to the theatre about an hour before the show. Linda rushed to me asking if she could change a word — which word I don’t remember — but the meaning was the same and, for some reason, it was easier for the actor so I agreed. Linda also explained that there were some cultural references she had to translate for the actors. I didn’t stop to ask whether it’s because the references were quintessentially American or that they were 40 years old. (Note to myself for future reference: When writing specifically for younger actors, don’t assume that those significant cultural markers for you have any meaning to them).
The play went on at 7pm as promised and as with most projects like this, to varying degrees of success. The actors in my play did a really good job, as did the director. This was, at once, fun and exhausting. In the following week, I saw that another theatre in Westchester was planning something similar for next year. So maybe it’s a trend.
For someone of any age who wants to dip their toe in the world of theatre without too much of a commitment, it’s not a bad place to start. Would I do this again? Maybe. Check with me next year.
If you want to read the play, email me at efriedman@lifetimearts.org
