EXTRA CRITICUM

How Do You Protect and Nourish the Most Precious Commodity Any Artist Has?

The most precious commodity we have as artists is our ability to see things differently. The artist looks at a pile of junk hundreds of others have absent-mindedly walked around on their morning commute and finds within it whole universes. The artist hears the same middle-of-the-road slogans we all bathe in all day every day and finds deep within them or around them or because of them new and amazing discoveries about what it means to be human.

In short, to be an artist of importance, you need a mind of your own and in order to cultivate a mind of your own it is essential that you disconnect from the prevailing narratives which grow narrower and less remarkable every day.

I hate to be the bearer of  bad news kids but as far as I can tell we are living through one of the swiftest and most efficient periods of cultural and intellectual closing ever experienced in modern human history. If the Renaissance was a period of extended and unprecedented opening the early 21st Century is most certainly the opposite. In fact, it's difficult to identify even one controlling force in the construction and organization of our modern lives which does not in ways sometimes subtle and sometimes clumsy nudge our collective unconscious toward greater predictability and mediocrity. 

If you care about your work, about the culture at large and about managing to carve out a satisfying existence in the Age of the Algorithm, you have no choice but to consciously choose everything and anything which might support your quirky, unpredictable, independent and often inconvenient way of looking at the world. 

How do you do this?

Prioritize any input yet untouched by the Algorithms. 

What do I mean by this? Whatever you feed your mind will ultimately nudge your way of thinking in this or that direction. 

Here are some examples of choices you may find yourself making. Get in the habit of asking yourself how each potential use or your precious time came into your consciousness. Chances are, if mass media played a role in it at all, it will lack much in the way of nourishment for a mind that finds inspiration in the most unexpected places. 

I'm not saying avoid mass media entirely. But I am saying a diet consisting of nothing but mass marketed culture will do much to mold you (slowly over the years) into an easy uncritical consumer of whatever it is the machine would prefer you consume. And, let's face it, when you accept such a bland and safe role for yourself the Algorithms and the corporations who control them will reward you immediately and handsomely. And your rewards will be widely shared via social media so as to encourage others to follow in your footsteps. Because of course, corporations are  not in the business of ensuring the survival and thriving of an idiosyncratic unpredictable and less efficient culture. No, no, no. Unpredictability and inefficiency are fast becoming dirty words in the lexicon of our brave new world. 

SHAKE UP YOUR WAY OF SEEING

vs.

BUY WHATEVER IT IS THEY'RE SELLING

The Six Most Likely Reasons Your Excellent Piece of Writing Did Not Take Home a Prize

Anyone who's ever been anywhere near a writing competition of any kind -- be it as a contestant, an audience member or a judge -- knows the sad fact that it's almost inevitable that really terrific work will somehow fail to capture the adoring attention of enough judges in just the right way and will be overlooked. 

I was curious  to take a closer look at this year's entries to the Hear Me Out Monologue Competition, specifically to examine the pieces that were really great pieces of writing that somehow failed to accumulate the high scores needed to advance to the finalist round. Specifically I wondered if I might be able to identify some patterns, common flaws which were working against some really terrific writing getting its proper due.

What I found may surprise you. It certainly did me. 

For any writer preparing work to submit to a seriously competitive opportunity of any kind, these 6 flaws could make the difference between taking home the gold and barely seeing the light of day. 

I suggest you copy this list and hang it somewhere in your workspace as a reminder so that every time you’re prepping a submission, you take some time to try and eliminate these obstacles.

I like to think of these as six guests you really don't want crashing your party cause they will work against your ambition for your submission by distracting the judges from the power and brilliance of what you've created. Show them the door and your chances of success will greatly improve.

We’ll count down from 6 to 1, saving the most important one for last.

#6: Typos and punctuation problems

It may not seem like in the grand scheme of things your brilliant powerfully moving work should be penalized for the odd misplaced comma or incorrect use or their, there or they’re. But here’s the thing. I know our judges are trying to look directly into the heart of each monologue, to understand its central character, to feel its pulse and not intentionally penalize you for typos. But we’re human. And if there are enough misspellings, incorrect or confusing uses of punctuation or incomprehensible sentences, the effect is this. The reader of the piece has to work harder to feel it as they read from start to finish. They may have to stop, go back a couple lines to figure out your intention. And when that happens, guess what? Their emotional investment in your piece suffers. 

#5: Layout on the page

Let’s imagine there’s a major explosion in the middle of your monologue. How you decide to place that interruption on the page is going to make a difference in how your reader spots it as the major interruption it is or whether they potentially miss it entirely.

Also, it may strike you as absolutely trivial but I was surprised to discover that submissions with hard-to-read fonts or inconsistent line spacing or line breaks tended to get lower scores. Now I know this is unconscious on the part of the judges because I am so specific about how the pieces are to be judged. Still human beings are not computers (thank god) and anything that makes it a little harder or more complicated for me as the reader to imagine and hear and see the monologue from start to finish is competing with your chance to grab a judge where they live -- to make an emotional impression. 

We may sound rather intellectual sitting in the restaurant discussing the show we all just saw together but make no mistake as it is unfolding in the theatre and we are sitting in the dark, it is an emotional experience. We're not thinking our way through your story, we're feeling our way through it. And every little interruption to provide a footnote or reveal the need for one is an interruption in my emotional journey with your characters through the story you're telling. 

#4: The Last Line

There were several gorgeous monologues this year that felt unfinished or incomplete because although the writer had a beautifully wrought idea that really kept us engaged, it felt as though they had not figured out how the ending should feel for the audience.

Any piece of theatre (or literature for that matter) can end in a number of ways. Think about your favorite pop songs. Some end with a bang. Some peter out. Some end with a hiccup. These choices make a world of difference in how an audience is going to feel about the overall piece and your choice should be carefully aimed at the emotional content of what preceded it. It’s human nature that no matter how you end your piece, we are going to use that end as a final lens through which to revisit the piece in its entirety. Choose the wrong type of end and you risk potentially getting in the way of your audience appreciating the depth and gravitas of the whole piece. Or on the other hand, sometimes an  ending too formal and sharp can risk throwing a lighthearted charm piece into unwanted (and unhelpful) comparison to other pieces with more natural heft. The last line also does something else in monologue that’s extremely important. And that is it signals to the audience something about the main character’s likely future beyond where we leave them. Last lines can hint at hope for some much needed change. Or they can confirm our worst fears about this person and the world that lies ahead of them. 

 

The Roland Tec Inner Circle Transitions to a Patreon Membership Tier

As I thought about whether to move the RT Inner Circle to Patreon I had to stop and think about everything I'd been producing, presenting, performing or hosting over the past few years. 

Would the offerings stack up and strike all of you as worth it?

Patreon offers artists a reliable revenue stream (albeit a modest one) by inviting members of the artist's sphere of influence to make a monthly financial contribution to the general health and well-being of the artist and by extension everything they create and offer to the world each year. 

It's a tiered model so, those most casually affiliated contribute something you may hardly notice. In our case we set the lowest tier at a $3 monthly contribution.

$3 per month amounts to a little more than $.09 a day. Hopefully anyone who has found joy or value of any kind in any of my workshops or the Hear Me Out programming won't hesitate to join us.

I decided to simply keep the three existing benefits of RT Inner Circle membership as has been the case for free for all these years: subscription to the semi-monthly RT Inner Circle e-Notes, priority notice of contests and other submission opportunities and the exclusive RT Inner Circle Comp Ticket promo codes which allow you to pay zero at many of the online events I host.

This choice, I hope, sends a clear message:

That thing you were getting for free all this time now has a $3 price tag but no one is going to force you to jump on board. You can choose to continue in the RT Inner Circle without signing up on Patreon but I really hope you'll seriously consider enrolling at Patreon, thereby contributing to a community that chooses to honor the value of what I've been making happen for people with a small outlay of cash each month. 

 

It's never simple when something you've been getting for free is suddenly protected by a Paywall. I remember the first time I clicked to read an article in the New York Times online only to be suddenly asked if I had paid for a subscription. It felt like a betrayal.

That's the last thing I want to make you feel. So, if you wish to remain in the RT Inner Circle and avail yourself of certain opportunities, announcements and bits of professional advice contained in the e-Notes and on the YouTube channel, no one's going to be policing you, waiting to stop you.

But, some of the things I've been giving away free of charge, like Wednesday Gathering, for example, have never been free of cost to me. So, in order to continue to drop in on the occasional Wednesday, all we ask is that you set aside $36 a year for the privilege. I hope you'll agree that that's negligible compared to what it means to you to know that the gathering is here. Because of course, the Wednesday Gatherings are not a writer's workshop, like the Roland Tec Online Writers Workshop in which an instructor (me) has carefully constructed a course in order to result in a specific result (your completion of a specific goal for your work over a six month period).

As I said, before launching on Patreon, I thought it might help for me to make a comprehensive list of all the things I'd offered the community since the start of this pandemic.

Here's what I was able to remember:

What makes studying with Roland Tec special?

On the Roland Tec Teaching site, there's a button that invites anyone interested in possibly studying with me to schedule a free 20-min. Zoom one-on-one. Whenever I find myself talking with someone who's exploring, I find myself listening to what's not being said. Reading between the lines I try to use those precious 20 minutes to tease out for people what at their core they hope to accomplish through their art so that I might help them decide whether this is the place for them.

A couple days ago one such prospective student -- a writer I've known off and on for years, someone whose work I've admired from afar -- asked the simplest most direct question. So direct that somehow it had never quite been asked in the same way. And I thought. Wow. This really matters. I should communicate my answer to readers of this blog. 

The question is basically the headline of this post.

What makes studying with me unique?

If any current members of the Roland Tec Online Writers Workshop or the RT Private Studio happen to be reading this, feel free to offer your opinion on my answer. Did I get it right? Maybe I missed something. I'm happy to stand corrected... especially in matters pertaining to seeing myself clearly.

Whenever my work is about to be read, I work overtime. Here's how and why.

You're having a new play read, or part of a new play. It's a script. What is a script but a tool used by artists who make theatre or film. The artists we should always consider first, middle and last as we go about our planning are of course the actors.

Because actors are reading your script aloud rather than performing the play with full production value, the reading by definition cuts many of your creative collaborators out of the equation. Set designer? Sorry. Lighting? Nope. Composer. Hell, no. Director? Not really, if we're honest. The direction of readings of new work is actually more like a hybrid of casting and stage management.

Essentially, 90% of readings -- regardless of whether they're private, in a writers workshop or public -- are carried entirely by the actors who read your dialogue aloud.

3 weeks til deadline! How to best use this time to submit a winning monologue to Hear Me Out 2021?

June is ending. And you haven't figured out what to submit to this year's Hear Me Out Monologue Competition?

Don't panic. Sure, you only have about three weeks til the July 22 deadline, but if you break it down, you have more than enough time to conceive of, write and submit a winning response to this year's festival theme: Borders.

Here's my two cents on how I'd go about this if I were hoping to submit.

1. Write something new specifically tailored to the guidelines of the competition. 

As you consider the calendar, it may be tempting to go digging into your files in search of an existing monologue from some older work that might fit the various judging criteria outlined in the Call for Entries. 

The impulse is understandable. I admit to having wrestled with similar notions myself when hoping to enter a potentially lucrative competition with thousands of dollars in prize money at stake. The submission of a tried and true piece, perhaps one even pulled from a successful full-length play may be a kind of comfort a de-stresser. And of course, it requires less of you. Less time. Less thought. Less work. 

Here's why I suggest you avoid this path.

Please, someone, could you show me the onramp?

Lately, I feel the things I don't know threatening to overtake the things I know for sure. (And please don't ask me about the Rumsfeldian unknown-unknowns. For those you must consult my closest friends and family.)

I have no clue how we're coming out of Pandemic Pause. Though I did just walk through a mall and a grocery store and Bloomingdales, all of which felt way more crowded than my comfort-level barometer could abide.

How are you emerging from the last year and a half?

Are you rising from a deep sleep feeling refreshed, renewed, reinvigorated?

Or are you tentative as you take your first baby steps along a slightly overgrown path, following signs that appear to read:

This way to "normal" --->

or was that:

They say go "normal" ---/

or

Which way to "normal?"

I don't know about you but I notice my mood is all over the place.

We're now one year into Pandemic Pause. Your laptop is your lifeline. Make peace with it.

We've now been living our lives on Zoom for a year. What does this mean?

Well, among other things, it means most of our interactions--social and professional--are governed by what the device we use to log in will and will not do. My students are playwrights, directors, actors, singers and filmmakers. All creative artists with professional goals for making important new work and sharing it with the world.

It's based on this last assumption that I offer up a few thoughts on your relationship to your technology, specifically to the device that is your portal. Because in the end, you may write the Next Great American [fill-in-the-blank] but if you can't manage to save it as a PDF and send it out into the world, well... a certain tree in a certain forest comes to mind.

1. 1. Zoom. I may have dissed Zoom in some other posts and of course I understand it's not the same thing as actual sharing of actual air space. But for now, it's what we've got. Learn how it works. Don't be the one kill-joy who arrives at the party asking where the drinks are. The bar is usually in the kitchen and the ice is usually in a bucket by the sink and glasses are set out beside the bottles. Help yourself. If you don't yet know how to mute and unmute, turn your video on and off, etc. etc. you have only yourself to blame. Zoom has not rearranged the layout of this party in 12 months. They have helpful tutorial videos at zoom.us. Find them. Watch them. Google some others. Know how to use the tools available.

More or Less... A Year of Challenges & Serendipity

My pants are all tight.

My neighborhood bodega has survived.

I don't sleep through the night anymore.

My notebook of tune ideas is full.

There are friendships I fear may be slowly disappearing.

I've reconnected with people I love in distant time zones.

Productions have stalled.

New voices have found me through Zoom.

My apartment's a mess.

I clean when I want to.

My dear friend has died.

We said what we had to.

I talk to myself prolifically.

I don't care if they hear me.

Tomorrow's uncertain.

Today's more alluring.

Reading Other People's Work Productively

Here's a confession. For years, with the exeption of a handful of favorite writers, when I would pick up a new script to read, nine times out of ten, I'd hate it. And it took me years of reading and hating to finally figure out that it actually wasn't true that nine out of ten scripts I read were awful. The problem was me. 

What I figured out (about a decade ago or so) was that if I open every script I read with a load of unconscious expectations that are based on my own personal style and approach, chances are my disappointment will come quick and forcefully. The silly thing is, I'm convinced many writers I know suffer from this same skewed view. 

Once I recognized that my frustration with many scripts had more to do with individual stylistic choices at odds with my own than with actual bad writing, I was able to relax and find much to admire in many of the scripts I read. 

What are these biases? It took me awhile to recognize them and there may in fact be more than the few I've been able to identify but I will list them here.

For Music-Theatre Collaborators, It's the Questions You Hardly Ever Think to Ask That Can Make the Biggest Difference

In a music-theatre context, there are a number of questions that must be answered before any song can be completed. Often when lyricists and composers collaborate on songs for a new show, these questions may be answered unconsciously or internally by each collaborator or not at all. If one person were writing a show all by herself, that might be just fine. But in a collaboration with one or two other artists, it’s critical that everyone on the team articulate these questions together, discuss them and come to agreement on each answer. If this is done before starting work on a given song, it can save everyone a lot of extra work, frustration and other unpleasant feelings. Take the time to be just a little bit pedantic when it comes to songs you’re co-writing for a new musical and you’ll be much happier with the results.

A note about these questions. Some concern lyrics. Others concern music. And others concern both. Some composers may read a few of these and bristle at the thought of opening such questions up for discussion with a lyricist. I’d argue that while musical decisions should be the final domain of the composer, talking about such things together will likely help the collaboration work in a more strongly aligned way with the overall story being told on stage. It may not be comfortable to talk about all these things right away. But give it a try. I think you’ll find surprising results await you if you come at it with an open mind and patience borne out of knowing you’re trying something new.

These questions are questions I’ve thought to ask in my own collaborations but it is probably not exhaustive. I encourage you to add a few of your own at the bottom to make this document an even more powerful tool for your own creative process.

10 thoughts after viewing all of the 20 SAG Award nominated film performances

1st in a continuing series

 

1. Diseases are like catnip to actors, especially if they can show the progression of the disease from health to illness. (Theory of Everything, Still Alice.)

A Playwright's Nightmare: Workshopping Albee & Ives to Death

Imagine for a moment if two of the most brilliant plays now running in New York by two of our most imaginative living playwrights--David Ives and Edward Albee--had been subjected to the sort of dramaturgical “help” most of the rest of us endure on a regular basis.

Here for your enjoyment are some imaginary notes given by some well-intentioned dramaturges during the developmental workshopping of Venus in Fur and Lady from Dubuque, which thankfully apparently they never endured.

Top 100 sitcom episodes of all time (a list in progress)

After months of bugging acquaintances for suggestions, I've finally started posting my list of the “100 Best Sitcom Episodes of All Time” at my personal blog. Each episode will get a separate blog post, counting backward toward No. 1.  A list of the programs revealed so far is here. 

I'll be posting the entire list at Extra Criticum, but please visit my blog if you're interested in the meantime. And I welcome comments from the insightful E.C. audience!

Here is the introductory post:

When I decided to make a “best sitcom episodes” list last year, I had two goals in mind. One was to make the case for the sitcom as an art form to people who were unfamiliar or dismissive of it. The second was to contribute to the making of a canon, or a consensus set of episodes that critics should be familiar with so that we have some shared points of reference.

The Top 10 Reasons to Support the Arts (from Artsblog.org)

By Randy Cohen, vice president of research and policy at Americans for the Arts, the nation's advocacy organization for the arts.