Category Archives: Directing

to high school, with love

four years ago, i wrote this tribute to high school actors.

last night, i sat within a bunched up circle of high school actors as they graciously, articulately, poignantly, and often humorously thanked their contributors, supporters, and mentors for their work on Hamlet.

it filled my heart.

to my last tribute, i add the following:

you, as a collective, are building a better world.

there may be days when you are engrossed in your own heart, miss your cues, forget your lines, want to be anywhere but here.

but, in the end, when you come together as a supportive unit, gifting hugs and congratulating your peers, that is when you demonstrate your prowess and magnitude as young adults who are shaping this community.

i look forward to seeing how you change the world.

Damn Proud of our Silence

Silence garnered another review today,

The play balances comedy with rumination, and outrageous episodes (magic mushrooms for dinner, anyone?) with a formality of construction that makes for solid theater.

GAN-e-meed, working with a shoestring, pulls off a production that is rich with imagination and talent.

This production successfully realizes the comic and dramatic aspects of Silence, delivering a neatly told tale right along with the lingering questions we’re supposed to take home with us.

This is all stuff I’ve believed all along.  But it feels pretty damn good to see someone else put it in print.

Read the full review at EDGE Boston.

and then reserve your seats. You only have three more chances!

Silence Reviewed

I was just happy about getting to sleep a full night again and having time to cook a hot meal.

This review rounding out my opening weekend is the cherry on top: GAN-e-meed’s Silence is Golden

In a sense, the highest compliment to her is that you don’t notice her work; the play just seems to happen  spontaneously, surprisingly.

Plus, we got called “urban Stage-Warriors.”  Nice.

Read the whole review here on ArtsFuse.

Brilliant Awe Awash with Life


4pm.   Production meeting for Silence. I was so excited to be sitting at a table with such a brilliant design and management team that I do believe I babbled a bit.   I did, at least, succeed in not dumping my bag everywhere as I dug for a pen, which is what usually happens since I tote my scattered brain around on my shoulder.

And yet, this is where I am the most at ease in my excitement.   This is where I belong.   I am a producer/direct above all.   A discovery I made late-ish in my career.   An unexpected, enlightening, and inspiring discovery.   So, to sit in a tea shop faced with talent that is destined to soar is truly awe-inspiring.

I can forgive myself for the babbling when I am faced with dreams coming true.

6:15pm. Rain. Rain. Rain.

6:45pm. Boston University. Opening Reception for the Institute for Non-Profit Management and Leadership. I was late.   I was wet.   I was cold.   I smilingly accepted my name tag and secured directions to the ladies room because the minuscule droplets of rain were quickly gathering in the folds of my face and becoming rivers.   I needed a moment to collect myself.   I didn’t get it since I arrived just in time to hear watch the welcome speeches in the vacuumous (yes, that is now a word if it wasn’t before) atrium.   As I stood there, dripping and name-tagged, absorbing an excitement similar to that I felt just an hour earlier, I suddenly realized that the sole reason for this reception was for me to walk around, introduce myself to complete strangers, and make worthwhile conversation.

This might be where I forgot to breath for a second.

Schmoozing is completely out of my comfort zone.   I’m not bad at it and I don’t dislike it, it just requires concentration and fortitude.   You’d think after the awe of my previous meeting, I’d be golden, but the rain must have washed some of me away.

With the speeches over, I retreated to the ladies to powder my nose and returned with a sigh, determined to either find a single person standing and waiting for a conversation, or butt-in to a group.   My one goal: not to stand around feeling idiotic.

I succeeded.   I felt fine.   But after several months hiatus from explaining the mission of GAN-e-meed to multiple professionals in an evening, I was definitely out of practice.

8pm. I drove home in the rain.   Picked up an over-tired child.   Read a little Moss Hart and snuggled up in bed.

This is the good life.