UCLA TAPER WORKSHOP--THE PLAYERS TALK BACK

How much liberty should actors, dramaturgs and directors take with a playwright’s untested play?

That question has been debated among Calendar letter writers ever since publication on Sept. 7 of a diary about what happened to one play--Clifton Campbell’s “Emerald Tree Boa”--during a summer workshop.

Readers objected to actors meddling with the playwright’s work, often offering other examples of what several called the “gang” school of playwrighting. More letters--from people directly involved--are published below.

To recap: Times arts reporter Barbara Isenberg was given permission by director Mark Medoff to attend all “Boa” auditions, rehearsals and invitational performances during the five-week UCLA/Mark Taper Forum new-play workshop. Her article reported Campbell’s odyssey with “Boa” during the workshop and after he went home to Chicago.

Times Theater Critic Dan Sullivan drew on Isenberg’s article for columns that appeared Sept. 7 and 21. Sullivan took the position that “the process” can work to the disadvantage of the playwright both when he or she is flooded with unwarranted input, as with “Boa,” and when a script isn’t questioned at all, as has happened in some new-play workshops.

Sister Judith Royer, associate professor of theater arts, Loyola Marymount University, who observed the new-play workshop:

Medoff created a safe, respectful atmosphere in which Campbell could grapple with the problems of the play--and there were many. Yes, Campbell suffered in the process, but no more than any actor suffers in the process of coming to terms with a new role he/she must develop, or a director coming to terms with the problems inherent in a new piece. . . .

Young playwrights, like young actors or directors, need classes, workshops and lab settings in which to experiment, to take chances with their work--chances which may lead to dead-ends but which may, equally, open onto new vistas. In such situations, “process” not “product,” must predominate. If these experiments reveal something of value, then is the time to begin work on a product. However, the latter was not what the summer was about. I am sure neither UCLA nor the Taper intended the work to come under public spotlight. . . . The public coverage given the event by The Times article did more to violate this process than anything that happened in any of the classrooms this summer. . . .

Isenberg’s article showed me what different backgrounds we brought with us as observers. She came as a reporter, needing an angle for an article and finding it where her sympathies would most naturally lie--with the writer. . . .I, on the other hand, am an insider to both these theatrical processes (revisions and rehearsals) and am familiar with the crazy things actors, directors and playwrights say and do during such collaborations. One learns to recognize statements of true concern versus expressions of frustration when breakthroughs have not yet taken place. . . .

Playwrights Ted Heller and Ken Lipman, whose play “Damaged Goods” was also part of the UCLA/Mark Taper’s new-play workshop:

In response to the general misconceptions the readers had to Barbara Isenberg’s excellent article, we feel we should get a word in. There seemed to be many words read between the lines; words that were never there. Ironically, this is what most of the reader response attacked the so-called “gang” for.

We were never forced to make changes. We always had the final say. No orders were given to us, only suggestions and advice. Some of it was welcome and some of it ill-advised. At one point in the process we were asked (and shocked to be asked) if we minded if the actors did some improvisation. When we made our feelings known, we were never asked again.

The article was accurate in terms of Campbell’s experience, perhaps, but not ours. In Campbell’s defense, we found him not to be at all spineless, as one reader called him. All of us were somewhat in a state of shock: many miles from home, every day dealing for hours with people we did not know. Sometimes we may have given in too much to suggestions because of the “new-ness” of the process. But we would do anything to be involved with such an experience again.

We do not wish to give the impression that all was paradise. Our play improved 120%. The 100% was what we wanted and got; the 20% hurt us greatly and once we returned to New York, we got rid of it. Sometimes the knowledge gained from too much grad school and rereading of plays several centuries old can hurt when imprinted on a play or scene or single word hot out of the typewriter. The workshop process took us all the way we wanted to go and went a bit past it.

Otherwise, we are grateful and fortunate to have had this experience.

From Michael McLain, assistant professor, UCLA Department of Theater, Film and Television, who directed one of the workshop plays:

The workshop comprised three separate plays, studio productions and, dare I say the word, “processes” of development. Although Isenberg does note that there were three projects, it’s too bad she felt compelled to focus her story as narrowly as she did, on only one of the three. Any reader of the piece would unavoidably come away with the inaccurate impression that the workshop as a whole could be characterized by the Clifton Campbell-Mark Medoff endeavor. . . .The work on the plays directed by Robert Egan (of the Taper) and myself proceeded in a more usual, less radical manner of development. In the case of both these plays, the playwrights certainly did not lack for authority (or volubility!) about what would or would not go on the stage.

I have to laugh at the irony when I recall that a key element in the original intent behind the UCLA-Taper collaboration on this workshop was to provide a laboratory free from the pressures associated with paying audiences and the press. I only hope that any negative fallout from Isenberg’s coverage doesn’t abort what could prove to be a valuable program (and undoubtedly was valuable to most of the participants).

Robert Egan, resident director and director of new-play development at the Mark Taper Forum:

How did a story about one process in a workshop program become a call to arms, an indictment of the entire UCLA workshop program, everybody associated with it, the Mark Taper Forum, the resident theaters in the country and, indeed, the “process” itself? It certainly was fueled by Isenberg’s one-sided and subjective reporting of the full workshop experience. It generated inaccurate perceptions of new play development. The article was without context. . . .

All the plays chosen were considered “unfinished” by their writers. They were considered to still be in a state of “becoming.” The writers were all seeking an educational and collaborative situation in which they could further fulfill their intentions with their plays and their growth as writers. The goal of the program was not to produce finished workshop products at the end of the five weeks. We did not want the pressure of public production . . . It was a time to explore, experiment and fail, if need be.

I can speak more specifically about the experience with the play that I directed and dramaturged, “Iowa Boys,” by Shem Bitterman . . . Bitterman was instrumental in fashioning the “process” that was utilized in the development of “Iowa Boys.” We spent two weeks around the table reading and re-reading the play with our actors, discussing the play scene by scene, playing with the musicality of the text, sensing the play’s intellectual and emotional life, and doing a lot of listening to Bitterman in an attempt to develop a language of understanding of the unique world that was “Iowa Boys.” Bitterman rewrote certain sections of the play during this period, using and discarding our feedback as he saw fit. . . .

Bitterman found throughout the “process” that the collaboration with his actors was beneficial and at times illuminating, particularly because we spent the time around the table to allow them to grasp the world of the play and Bitterman’s intentions. The actors did not write or rewrite Bitterman’s play, but their work did allow Bitterman to deepen, sharpen and at times unlock a character’s journey through the world of the play. . . .

I would also like to comment on remarks Sullivan made in his Sept. 21 article entitled, “The Process, Part Two.” In that article he stated that the most impressive new play workshop he ever attended--”the process at its best”--was one where “putting the plays on wasn’t a collaborative process.”

Both Sullivan and Isenberg come dangerously close to suggesting that actors are dramaturgically inept, and should act their part and not be critically heard. I find this suggestion to be myopic. Dedicated, disciplined actors bring a great deal to “process” work with a new play beyond just acting the part.

And, from playwright Clifton Campbell, the last word:

I’d like to thank the readers of Isenberg’s article, “Play Time,” for their great response and support. Frankly, however, I find the sympathy generated by the article rather embarrassing. I went into the workshop expecting an onslaught of comments and criticism and was anything but disappointed. But, the Taper and Mark Medoff had asked me to listen with an open mind and to be responsive in order to take advantage of this unique writing experience. If I had repeatedly refused to consider changes and asked people to get their opinions out of my face, the article would’ve been about an arrogant, self-righteous young author. Readers’ comments would then most likely have criticized the poor selection of playwrights rather than the process.

Isenberg’s article is a factual account of my time in the workshop. Unfortunately it paints a too sympathetic picture of me in these circumstances. As unaccustomed as I was to dorm life and constant interaction with a group of critics, it was easy to lose sight of the good aspects of the process. In retrospect I can see that, though difficult and grueling at times, the Taper provided me with an opportunity to learn some valuable lessons and to see my playwriting process through to new potentials. But most importantly I’ve learned that, in writing for the theater, a balance must be struck between flexibility and the insistence that the work remain one’s own. Ultimately it is the author’s own voice and vision that makes a work unique.

There is nothing inherently wrong with the process. The problem with any group creative process is in the great mix of personalities and the varying degrees of experience, talent and power each brings to the project. I believe I have emerged from the process a stronger, more mature and confident artist.