Twenty Twenty-Six

Happy 200th Birthday, America.

For many years I would include a post this time of year in which I would look forward to the year to come. This started in late 2012, because I was excited about all the new work I was developing at that time. I had three workshops or productions scheduled for calendar 2013, and that was the first time that had happened.

Often, I have new work scheduled but am not yet at liberty to announce them yet, so this post has to be a coy “wait and see” message, and this one is going to be like that. Last year, I didn’t even bother to write a “Twenty Twenty-Five” post because post-election, things were all so bleak, I didn’t feel that I had much to look forward to. It was also unknown as to whether I would have anything new to share, though it turned out to be a production year, regardless.

The world remains bleak. Next year is the American Semiquincentennial. Fucking yay. We thought things were bad in 1976. Elderly Gen Xers can remember celebrating our nation’s birth by learning how to make soap and dip candles, and by painting our fire hydrants to resemble colonial patriots. I’m no prognosticator, but I believe celebrations on July 4, 2026 will feature tear gas.

Closer to home, I have several projects in the works, and yes, I am not at liberty to announce them yet. But at least the work continues. Received a commission for a non-fiction piece, and workshop productions that will provide new and expanded audiences to some recent plays that have so far had limited exposure. And as usual, that doesn’t include all the business that is currently in their proposal stages.

So, resuming this tradition of looking ahead; it’s not so much about promoting upcoming projects, that will come soon enough. It's about reminding myself of something that is in short supply these days: hope.

Play a Day: Clara Thomas Bailey

Caridad Svich

For Easter Sunday, I read Clara Thomas Bailey by Caridad Svich and posted at New Play Exchange.

A magical monologue in three parts (it’s not really a monologue, but it’s like a monologue) told in second person singular, like a conversation in the mind. 

A tale of urban anxiety and loss, fearing pain, death and isolation, and the human aspiration for success, for contact, for calm and clarity, for creation, full of beauty and wonder and doubt.

Who should I read tomorrow?

Play a Day: Death and The Tramp (El Muerto Vagabundo)

Georgina Escobar

Fourteen plays in fourteen days!

For Sunday I read Death and The Tramp (El Muerto Vagabundo) by Georgina Escobar and available at New Play Exchange.

"The day you understand the meaning of death is the day you start living."

This lovely Día de Muertos play for children and families is presented in English and Spanish, and also through shadow puppetry, projections and several other magical stage elements to weave a tale of memory, loss and despair, as well as remembrance, determination, and hope, told with delight and clarity.

This uniquely original story did put me in mind of other tales of the Underworld and of the Dreamworld. The fear that those who have no living persons to remember them will be olividado, or forgotten, was the theme of the Pixar movie Coco (this play was produced a year before that film was released) though in Vagabundo, souls who are forgotten do not cease to exist, they wander the earth without a home.

That's where this piece takes on real world significance, as I wondered if the land of the dead truly exists, or if the earth is a place we never leave. Loss comes in many forms, death being only one of them. To be dispossessed, homeless, without a nation, unwelcome anywhere. There are greater fears than the end of all.

The setting is beneath a bridge. And don't we need more bridges.

Who should I read tomorrow?