Thursday 30 May 2013

The Adaptation Debate

In case you've missed them, over the past few days there have been several articles and letters in The Australian. Rosemary Neill published this article on the weekend, and then this follow-up. Ralph Myers responded. We sent this letter we sent to the paper today:

We’re 7-ON, a group of seven mid-career playwrights. We are writing in response to the recent series of articles regarding the place of adaptations on the current Australian stage.

It is a pity that this debate is descending into an acrimonious ‘us and them’ dispute. There are bigger and more interesting, and we think, more urgent questions to ask: about the nature of change in our industry; about ‘what is writing?’ in an age of remix and reproduction; about sustainability in the arts and in arts careers; about the monoculture we see on so many of our stages and how we might change it to reflect the diversity of Australia in 2013 and our globalised world; about the place of the Live in a culture where people spend most of their time in front of screens; about innovation—what it is and how we might create space for it to flourish; about the diminishing scale of productions outside the mainstages ... and much more.

With regard to the original article—we have nothing against adaptations, we think of them as the writer collaborating with Shakespeare or Ibsen or whoever, giving us a dialogue with our predecessors and the past, but in an idiom readily accessible to the present, in a way which illuminates the present. We would, though, like to look beyond the obvious texts to adapt, and be bolder in our approaches. 

Back to Myers’ article, it was interesting to note that the four writers he picks out for approbation are male, and that the only female writer mentioned is dismissed as a stereotyped rejected and embittered woman who’s past her prime.

The seven of us don't agree amongst ourselves on every aspect of this debate. Some of us uphold the idea that plays aren't literature, while others reject it; some believe adaptors have the right to 'steal and corrupt' from the ancients, though not the recently-dead like Miller—if you don’t like the script as written, then don’t do it. (And how very, very hard-won are the copyrights that allow writers to make a living while alive, and then provide for their descendants.) Some of us love the results of these ‘corrupted’ classics. Some don’t. And we’d like to point out that any notion of someone being ‘best’ or even ‘worst’ at their craft is, at base, a subjective opinion. But all of that is okay. Divergence of opinion is healthy.

There should be a place for adaptations on our stages, of course there should—but not at the expense of new work. Ideally, the new writing informs the adaptation, and the classic informs the new. Both matter, both need the other.

But there’s no denying the fact that writing an original play is a much more difficult, and much braver, undertaking than adapting, where all the heavy lifting has been done by the playwright. And obviously, if there are no new plays, there are no future classics.


Sunday 26 May 2013

Woman Artist & Big Fish


Noëlle says ...
To combat moments of doubt and melancholy, I often turn to research. A bizarre factoid, a shadow story behind the official one, or just learning something new can restore a sense of optimism. And if what I discover has a comic dimension—even better.

I found this image of a woman artist and a big fish on a research foray. 


Could write more, but I’m off to the library to find out about the history of the pineapple …

Saturday 25 May 2013

Salt And Vinegar, Get 'Em Inter Yer.


“I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts..."

So begins a quote from Anne Lamott who has written many a book and many a book about writing many a book besides.  I thought this was a good quote to link with what I have been doing the past coupla weeks, which is workshopping and developing the script of my new play Chipper. I worked with director Chris Bendall, dramaturg Tim Roseman (also PlayWriting Australia AD) and intern Pierce Wilcox as well as the four fab actors: Kate Box, Ella Scott Lynch, Rob Jago and Sandy Gore.

There is of course nothing like sitting down round a table to hear actors read your words aka your play. It is terrifying. You become very aware of your own mis-steps and stumbles, where you have tried to make the same point about thirty times, when you have failed to make any sort of point at all. Yet everyone in this room is kind, is thoughtful, is concentrating on the story and how it unfolds. And better still, how their character unfolds along with it. Suddenly you go from one brain telling a story to 8 brains. We are all afraid of showing our work. We are all afraid that what we are handing over may indeed fail to be an 'elegant first draft'.
But that is part of a playwright's leap of faith is it not?


Will Chipper be on a stage anytime soon. God I hope so. But at least I know this play has gone forward, 8-brains worth, over 2 weeks.  

Anne Lamott’s quote continues from the way even much loved writers fail to write elegant first drafts to this:

...All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest friend Tom, he said that you can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.)”
― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

And the point of this I think is that all writers run their own race or write their own story and most of them struggle to start and continue and even finish, and sicc-ing God onto them is no help to anyone. Really, if you’ve created a god in your own image it’s kind of hard to take that god seriously. Or ourselves. We write. In Australia. In 2013. There’s a hell of  a lot there to be chipper about.

And at the risk of overdoing the chipper thing, this really DOES make us CHIPPER! Just briefly (although hopefully you’ll hear more next week) we are thrilled that one of us, Hilary Bell!, is the recipient of this year’s Patrick White Fellowship with the Sydney Theatre Company. 
Yay Hil!
Hugely exciting and many cries of WOOO-HOOO!

love
Vanessaxx

Friday 24 May 2013

Remembering why I write


Sometimes I forget. Quite often I forget. Especially between plays, when the world seems to go silent or when I just don't think I can reach in and haul out another work... Why write? Why bother? Why put  myself through that hell that's up ahead?

There are personal answers that partly satisfy: because I love the process of finding the right form for something; because the journey of inquiry is its own reward; because I care about language; because otherwise I'm pretty unemployable.

Beyond myself, there are other answers: because the overlooked among us must be seen; because I want to be part of the wider cultural dialogue; because I still believe that the collective grapple with chaotic humanity is somehow sacred; because in that collaborative offering someone might find a crystallised piece of their life puzzle, and...

Sometimes the answer depends on the play and performance context: with a child's play the answer might be because delight and wonder are utterly enough; with a community cultural development project, one might say because the revolution needs to be rehearsed, or difference needs to be livably negotiated, or social stigma must be not win.

But really, when I'm between plays, and in that fallow wintering land, I've really only found one answer that could keep me contemplating the possibility of ever writing again. I jotted this sentence down years ago without attribution, so I can't tell you who said it, but it is an answer to do with the sustenance of us all:

The job of the poet is to remember where the waterholes are. 

This rings deeply true for me, feels quietly crucial... so, I pick up my pen and...
Donna

Thursday 23 May 2013

Thursday...


Cath says...The title of this piece is Depth Charge...

Plays are beautiful, exhilarating things to create. However, you need the stars to align and actors to blow the breath into them for them to come alive.

So I never wait. I keep creating. I’ll start another play if one is waiting to be written, or turn to my other art form – the visual arts. While it is important to exhibit and sell, the actual process and resolution of a work is sustaining in itself. I can step back and think the artwork needs nothing from anyone; it is complete. I can see it for myself.

And then I think no one can stop me doing what I love because I believe that for some of us this reverie, the experience of stepping out of time, is also the thing that shores us up against the existential horror we must be in touch with in order to create.

Wednesday 22 May 2013

Wednesday...




Verity here. Every now and then I cheer myself up by going and having a look at some notes I made from a book entitled the Complete Rotten Reviews and Rejections edited by Bill Henderson and Andre Bernard. I hope it’s still in print…

LEWIS CARROLL’s Alice in Wonderland  – ‘A stiffly overwrought story’
JOSEPH HELLER’s Catch 22 – (in the New York Times Book Review) – ‘It gasps for want of craft and sensibility…there is nothing here to appease a reader’s basic literary needs.’
PROUST’s  Swann’s Way – ‘I can’t see why a chap should need 30 pages to describe how he turned over in bed before going to sleep.’
NABAKOV’s Lolita – ‘A wild neurotic daydream that should have been buried for a thousand years.’
GEORGE ORWELL’s Animal Farm – ‘It is impossible to sell animal stories in the USA’
UPTON SINCLAIR’s The Jungle – ‘Fit only for the wastebasket.’
W.B.YEATS – ‘The work does not please the ear, does not kindle the imagination.’
LE CARRÉ –  The Spy Who Came In From The Cold – ‘You’re welcome to Le Carre – he hasn’t got any future.’
T.S ELIOT’s The Wasteland  (in The New Statesman) – ‘Mr Eliot has shown that he can at moments write real blank verse; but that is all. For the rest he has quoted a great deal, he has parodied and imitated. But the parodies are cheap and the imitations inferior.’
STEINBECK’s Of Mice and Men (in Time) – ‘An oxymoronic combination of the tough and the tender (which would appeal to) sentimental cynics and cynical sentimentalists.’
GUNTER GRASS's The Tin Drum – ‘One feels like a zoologist who discovers some monstrous unrecorded mammal gobbling leaves.’
WILLIAM FAULKNER’s As I Lay Dying (in The New York Times Book Review) – ‘…a high place in an inferior category.’
GUSTAVE FLAUBERT’s Madame Bovary (in Le Figaro ) – ‘Monsieur Flaubert is not a writer.’
LEO TOLSTOY’s Anna Karenina – ‘Sentimental rubbish…show me one page that contains an idea.’
TRUMAN CAPOTE’s In Cold Blood – 'This isn’t writing. It’s research.’

…And now that you’re all feeling REALLY cheerful, take off those rabbit ears and get back to that writing desk! Mush! Mush!

Tuesday 21 May 2013



Tuesday.

Ned says...
It's occurred to me that I am involved in a long term love affair with theatre. It began when I was a child and saw my first piece of theatre, a pantomime. It blossomed when I was type cast as a pig in my first acting role and flowered when I was cast as Dorothy in a school production of The Wizard of Oz. The theatre was the place where I felt most at home and, apart from the obvious magic of it, I never felt more alive than when heading off to a rehearsal. The one thing that engaged me in an otherwise disengaged schooling was when I had the chance to be involved in the theatre. It was at school that I wrote my first play. I "produced" and wrote a play instead of studying for the  HSC. When I left school my love affair continued but I was a shy, unconfident suitor and had to settle for directing and performing in extremely dodgy productions in a tiny town on the Queensland border. Love has a way of making choices for you and I moved to the city to pursue my true love. I found, to my surprise, that my lover was more accommodating and acting roles followed. My love affair became a marriage, of sorts, and my plays were produced and acting roles flowed. I was blissfully happy. Then my lover's eyes started to wander and I found myself less and less in demand. Did I lose heart?  A little. But when you're in love you're in love. So, even though my love affair is largely unrequited, I continue to hold a candle for theatre. I continue to write plays, not because I expect my lover to favour me again, but because even unrequited love is impossible to resist.

Monday 20 May 2013

A Little Help From Our Friends




Hilary says...
In a class I teach, a student asked me if each week I could bring in something to help them along. Not biscuits, no (we already have biscuits): something he called 'survival tips'. What a strange profession this is. It's the best of everything (freedom, self-expression, creativity) and the not-so-best (financial insecurity, self-doubt, rejection). 7-ON, for me, is a central piece of the 'survival' puzzle: a group of colleagues I can talk to when trying to make sense of the dizzying highs and the dizzying lows. And I suppose what we offer each other are informal survival tips, gleaned from our own experience or the wise words of our peers and playwriting ancestors.

What we want to do this week, with seven days and seven of us, is take turns in offering a 'thought for the day'. Something to inspire you to get to the next page. So, here is Monday's:

A good play I think should always feel as though it's only barely been rescued from the brink of chaos, as though all the yummy nutritious ingredients you've thrown into it have almost-but-not-quite succeeded in overwhelming the design. A play should have barely been rescued from the mess it might just as easily have been; just as each slice of lasagne should stand tall, while at the same time betray its entropic desire towards collapse, just as the lasagne should seem to want to dissolve into meat and cheese stew, so you can marvel all the more at the culinary engineering magic that holds such entropy at bay, that keeps the unstackable firmly, but not too firmly, stacked. A good play, like a good lasagne, should be overstuffed: It has a pomposity, and an over-reach: Its ambitions extend in the direction of not-missing-a-trick, it has a bursting omnipotence up its sleeve, or rather, under its noodles: It is pretentious food.

Tony Kushner (On Pretentiousness, 1995)

Thursday 16 May 2013

7-ON: GLOBAL DOMINATION


Well, not quite. Not yet. But it's been a big couple of weeks for the 7s in terms of industry recognition.

Working alphabetically, first up we celebrate Donna Abela. She has been working long and hard on ‘Monkey - Journey to the West’, he of the Chinese folktale (familiar from the fabulous ‘70s TV series) with Theatre of Image and Bell Shakespeare. Shows are lined up for 2014 in Brisbane, Melbourne and Sydney. A recent workshop produced this clip, featuring team9lives and the inimitable Darren Gilshenan as Pigsy.

Abela and Bates create a nice alphabetical segue to Triumph #2: Both Donna and Vanessa have plays shortlisted for the Griffin Award, to be announced June 14. They nestle amongst a constellation of other wonderful playwrights Robert Reid, Kate Mulvany and Rosemary Johns. Congrats to all.

The prodigious Bates is also one of the three recipients – along with Patricia Cornelius and Aiden Fennessy – of a coveted spot at Playwriting Australia’s National Script Workshop. Starting this week and running till the end of next week, she is developing her new play ‘Chipper’.

Bell is on the shortlist for Inscription’s Edward Albee Playwriting Scholarship, which I (Hilary here) am very proud to be on with two of my former students, Alison Rooke and Ruth Melville. Winner goes to New York for a month and writes a play!

Janaczewska's play ''Third Person' opens in Melbourne, at the Union House Theatre, next Wednesday, in addition to which, 'Mrs Petrov's Shoe' has just been published by Playlab.

Manning's 'Women Of Troy' will be broadcast on May 21, having been selected for the International Festival of Radio Plays Prix Marulic 2013.

And Zimdahl, our multi-talent, has been selected as a finalist for the international Clifton Art Prize. See her beautiful painting ‘A Tear Magnified to the Power’ here

Stay tuned for the outcomes.

On another note, I thought it worth noting just how many Australian plays are on in Sydney as I type this. Upstairs at Belvoir is Tom Holloway’s ‘Forget Me Not’, and downstairs Lally Katz’s ‘Stories I Want To Tell You In Person’. Griffin, the stalwart champion of new local work, is presenting Van Badham’s ‘The Bull, The Moon and the Coronet of Stars’. There’s the MayDay Playwrights’ Festival at the Tap Gallery (last week was wall-to-wall 7-ON).The Ensemble has just opened David Williamson’s ‘Happiness’, and TRS, ‘The Removalists’. At the Sydney Theatre Company is Joanna Murray-Smith’s ‘Fury’. These are what I can think of without resorting to Google. Anything else I should mention? Drop us a comment. And feel free to open it up to the nation at large: what else is on out there? It’s pretty bloody fantastic to see our own stories, told by our own playwrights, on so many stages all at once.