A mixed experience

Yesterday was the final performance of the world premiere performance of my latest full length play Want.  I'm really proud of this play.  I've worked on it steadily for a few years, until I feel it is finally the play I wanted to write.  It's my grittiest, most provocative play, definitely for mature audiences.  There were several Zoom performances of earlier drafts of this ply during 2020-21, but this is its first live performance, and here in Seattle, my home city.  It has been a very mixed experience.

What was good:

I could attend rehearsals, talk directly to the director (a writer doesn't talk to the actors as that confuses who is in charge), see the play myself, and invite my local friends to see it.  It's a rare occasion when a play of mine is done this close to home, and a lot of my friends here don't really know me as a playwright.

During rehearsals and performances, I was able to hear the play newly and have been able to edit, refine, and polish the script, so it is now even stronger than it was at the beginning of rehearsals.

I appreciate the producer, who put together an excellent technical crew, comprised of talented young women who created a poster, a set, lighting, props, and costumes which beautifully supported the play.  And I appreciate the director, who was very open to my comments during rehearsals.

24 of my friends attended performances, one even coming from as far as Portland.  (I invited 140.  I'm not shy about promoting my work when I am confident about it.)  It was generous of each of them to give time out of their summer days to come see live theater.

What was not so good:

Very sadly, the audiences were small, and they seemed even smaller because the production was in a mid-sized theater (130 seats)  That's at least partly on me.  The producer was looking at smaller theaters, but I wanted this play to have a noteworthy first production, so I asked that we go to a larger theater.  Hubris on my part.  I didn't take into account that 1) it's an unknown play 2) by an  unknown playwright 3) during summer, when theater attendance is always down, and 4) that COVID is still making some people leery of indoor public events.  Why it's sad is that the producer may have lost money, and that the actors didn't get the important symbiotic energy exchange with the audience.

The two lead actors were miscast.  They are talented performers, but just didn't have the right whatever - personalities, style, rhythm, insight - for these characters.  They worked waaaaay too hard, as though they didn't trust the script but felt they needed to make a big moment out of every line.  So disappointing.  I don't really feel I've seen the play, at least not the play as I imagine it.  It was actually painful to watch sometimes.  I had to remind myself that the audience didn't have preconceived ideas about how the play should go and probably just accepted it as it was performed, but I know how much nuance was missed, how many moments were misplayed or overplayed.  I know what it could be.  I almost lost confidence in that, but really, I know what is there, I know how good it is.

It was also very hard that I knew the director wanted me to be happy with the production.  I really like her and hated to keep discouraging her by giving her my frustrated notes after rehearsals.  I finally had to accept that the actors were going to do what they knew to do and that there was no point in wanting to get them into different shapes.

So now I have a better play, and the experience of seeing it performed live, and a lot of my local friends now see me as a writer.  It has helped all along to remember that this production is not the end of this play's life, and not the end of my writing life.  It is notoriously difficult to get a second production for a play; if a theater is putting on an unknown play by an unknown playwright, they want at least to be able to say that it's a world premiere, and that ship has now sailed for Want.  But I'll keep sending it out and sending it out, and meanwhile, I'm at work on my next play.  Oh lord above, will it ever end?