It’s a Keeper

I have been doing theatre in one way or another since I was in junior high. (Yes, I am so old that is what we called it then.) The scene in Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland’s movie, Babe in Arms, has always summed up my excitement and blind hope for theatre. 

Mickey Moran : I've got an idea. Our folks think we're babes in arms, huh? Well, we'll show 'em whether we're babes in arms or not. I'm gonna write a show for us and put it on right here in Seaport. Why, it'll be the most up-to-date things these hicks around here have ever seen. Opening night we'll have Max Gordon, Sam Harris, Lee Schubert, down to give us the once-over. How about it, kids?

[all the kids cheer] 

Mickey Moran : We'll get every kid in this town on our side, and we'll start right now! What do you say?

Rosalie Essex : How much do you need?

Mickey Moran : Well, let me see. First of all, we're going to use a barn that some actors used last summer and turned it into an outdoor theater. I figured if we all pitched in together - that is, for the scenery and the costumes and everything - it would run us about $287.

Rosalie Essex : Have you got it yet?

Mickey Moran : No.

Rosalie Essex : Well, you have now.


Live theatre captures the hearts and minds of people in a way that movies can’t. The human condition, conflict and change are unfolding right in front of you through characters you could reach out and touch. (but please don’t – unless they ask you to) The performance includes the audience and each night is a little bit different because the audience is different and the group dynamic of the people in the seats mixes and melds with the performers who are evolving and finding nuances that might not have been there the night before. It’s magic. Just writing about live theatre fills me with creative hope. But the nitty gritty of theatre is that it has a lousy business model. The ticket price doesn’t cover the cost of the production and so there has to be grant writing and fundraising and many angel patrons of the arts. And new plays are risky because you need a bigger marketing push to sell a new playwright or play. 


I’ve started a couple of theatre companies in my life and while it ain’t easy, when it works – ah, the transcendent beauty just knocks you out. The perfect ensemble - gifted actors with an artfully written script, a director with a strong vision, kickass designers in a well-supported theatre space with lovely efficient staff is hard to come by and when you find it, you gotta grab it and go for it.


Last spring, I was traveling cross country from San Francisco with my dog, Esmeralda, headed back to Great Diamond Island in Maine where I had blessedly spent the winter. Somewhere in Nebraska, I had to grab a motel and get ready to go on zoom to work with an actor for Roland Tec’s Some1Speaking. I booked the Hilton Garden Inn while I was at a rest stop letting Esmeralda do her thing. Gotta love technology when you don’t hate it. I was running late and had no idea where I was except in the state of anxiety and Nebraska. I used Google Maps to find the place, threw my car in park, hooked the dog up to her leash, grabbed my purse and my computer and ran into the lobby. Shit!, there was someone in front of me. Being a goody two shoes, I was loathe to interrupt but, I was desperate.  See, I didn’t know this actor and I needed to be professional, on time and centered to give her and the monologue by the incomparable Leilani Squire, the attention it deserved. “Ah, sorry, sorry, excuse me, I’m sorry to cut you in line but… sorry…” I explained how I had to get into my room ASAP for this important zoom rehearsal and thankfully was greeted by a rare understanding and efficient front desk worker. I passed her my license and credit card and she gave me the key to my room and another kind motel worker hurried me upstairs with the Wi-Fi password written in big letters on Hilton Garden stationary. I fawned thank you upon thank you and shut the door, threw open my computer, called up the zoom link and ran a brush through my hair, right on time. Lisa Barnes popped up in the zoom room and I let her in and she blew my mind. SO good. She took my notes easily and her interpretation of a woman on the edge was believable, haunting and finely tuned. I didn’t want the rehearsal to end even though I had to go to the bathroom since Wyoming. 


It was in that motel room in Who Knows Where, Nebraska that I hatched my hopeful plan – I must direct this Lisa in a show with another gorgeous actor also named Lisa, my best friend for over 40 years. Lisa Stathoplos, whom I call Lise and Lisa Barnes whom I call Lisa, would make some beautiful theatre together. I gnawed on this idea like a terrier with a bone for about a month until one night when I was happily ensconced in my camper on a lake in Maine for the summer. I was deep in conversation with my dear friend and colleague, Roland Tec, when I thought to tell him of my dream of the two Lisas. He knew both Lisas’ work and thought it was a fantastic idea and would try to think of a great 2-hander. And then we went on to talk about how we should run the world. (not really but kinda really) As we were saying our long good-byes, he suddenly blurted out, “Wait a second, I have a play! It has 3 actors but it’s really the women’s play.” “Send it to me!” I yelled into his ear. He did.


Simply put, Roland’s play, What We Get to Keep is my kind of play. I fell in love with his sharp script immediately and passionately - juicy subtext, taut characters, text dripping with humanity, and a finely tuned arc for each character and for the play. Images floated off the page and into my head and heart. I could visualize the whole production, and I could hear Lisa Barnes and Lisa Stathoplos in the roles of Pat and Billie. We would need a male actor to play Pat’s husband, Stan – a very important and meaty smaller role. Roland suggested Carl Palmer and I flipped my lid. I had seen Carl play Satan in a monologue for Some1Speaking and he was brilliant. 


I sent out the requisite emails to Roland, Lisa, Lisa and Carl and they all said yes to a reading on zoom. That’s all I had in place – a first read but everyone was still game. That reading in July of 2022 blew us all away. These actors couldn’t even look at each other because it was Zoom but nevertheless What We Get to Keep came alive with their connections, truthful and artful acting. Here were 4 dreamy human beings with mad theatre skills and I had to make this happen for real, in person, in a great space. But where? Our merry band was spread out all over the country.


As my Maine summer turned into my Maine fall, Lisa S and I had the good fortune to put on a staged reading of her upcoming second memoir, “Chimera – a Shapeshifter’s Journey” at St. Lawrence Arts, a stunning renovated church on Munjoy Hill in Portland. That night I got to meet Deirdre Nice, the Executive and Artistic Director. I felt as if I had known her forever and I admired how she ran her arts organization. My best friend came up with the idea to ask Deirdre about putting on the play at her theatre. And Deirdre said, “Yes!” Just yes. And now St. Lawrence is co-producing and we are on the books for September 7th and I am one happy camper. 


Look for my next post where I explore how the heck we are going to pay for our production! Unlike Mickey’s play ours will not cost $287.00, no matter how much we trim the budget. But it is meant to be so it will be.

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Twenty Years Ago, a Roland Tec Play Gave Me One of the Most Terrifying and Thrilling Two Weeks of My Career

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I Hope We Get to Keep This