Introduction written by: Managing Editor, Camille Pugliese
As I sat down to sum up my thoughts on the season announcement, I kept running into the same conflicted feelings I experienced filling out the season selection survey. Perhaps what I felt was the looming presence of my last year at TTS; the transition from BFA 3, to BFA 4, then beyond is imminent. Something else ate at me though, something beyond senior year anxieties.
I’m aware that I am putting myself at risk of sounding cliche here, but this year looks much different from seasons past. Earlier this year, TTS announced that the winter quarter Playworks (P2) and the spring quarter Watts production (WT3) would be cut from the upcoming year’s production schedule. The overall response to this change was positive, citing a need to reduce student burnout and a broader conversation happening in greater DePaul about budget constraints.
If you’re a long time Grappler reader, you may notice another difference. Our response is out later than it has ever been. What once was a school-wide party became a brief Friday morning email. Typically our response releases rapidly following the proclamation of the season; however, the announcement itself was delayed due to issues out of anyone’s control. Before we get into the meat of the season, I want to thank members of the Season Selection Committee for their time and dedication to the TTS student community. We know the delay came from the many hurdles this committee faced this year.
When I filled out the season selection survey, one of the questions asked something to the tune of how the play reflects the mission and values of DePaul University. I was stumped. Squeezing the plays I pitched into the Vincentian mission box felt forced and unnatural. I’m more concerned with how the plays we pick reflect the values of the student body. A student body that repeatedly shows its passion, excitement, and dedication to principles of equity and inclusion. Now that we see the season–many key values of our community are noticeably missing.
Not a single play in our season is written by a woman.
Not a single play in our season is written by a Black person.
Not a single play in our season is written by an AAPI or MENA person.
Not a single play in our season has a queer protagonist.
We deserve stories as diverse as the people we see in our classes and in our halls. We deserve better. I don’t mean to throw blame at the season selection committee in any way, rather I want to encourage us to think critically about what the stories we tell say about us. We should advocate for what we want to see on our stages. This is how we can become the change we want to see in our industry.
We’re holding hope for the remainder of the season announcement (see a WT2-shaped gap in our response). We want to uplift what we do see – plays about young artists, plays that hinge on the identity of Blackness in the U.S, bilingual plays, and plays that challenge the system they’re created within. These stories are indicative of some of our values, but we are still looking for more.
WT1- The Seagull by Anton Chekhov and directed by Dean Corrin
By Liz Bazzoli
In the days leading up to our unconventional and (semi?) spontaneous season announcement, an increasingly nervous excitement took hold of me. Then at the end of March, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds of speculation, Anton Chekhov’s familiar face.
Ok, maybe it’s a little too familiar. The Theatre School did stage a production of The Seagull only two years ago, in recent enough memory to invite unnecessary comparisons. But it’s hard to blame director Dean Corrin; the allure of producing The Seagull at TTS is as irresistible as the allure of acting in it. There is an undeniably heartbreaking relatability to the play’s central conflict: a young artist vying for validation from an unforgiving industry. Konstantin and Nina, much like us, are theatre’s next generation.
As is the classic Chekhovian way, The Seagull is ripe with dramaturgical intrigue. As one of the dramaturgs for this play, the paradoxes drew me in the most; these characters are complex but elusive. This lakeside villa is both beautiful and cold. Nothing is ever quite as it seems, and we must rise to the challenge of deciphering the emotions lying beneath the surface. There is of course also a breadth of historical research that this production will no doubt require–already we are trying to navigate gendered naming conventions in nineteenth-century Russia and the logistics of property inheritance.
I’m beyond excited to tackle this beast of a play and to work with the incredible Dean Corrin, who is not only directing this production but is actively adapting his own script. The challenges we face with The Seagull bridge the gap between 1895 and now. With our talented production team and collaborative-minded director, I have no doubt that this bird will take flight.
P1 – The Mole Hill Stories by Alvaro Saar Rios and directed by Michelle Lopez-Rios
By Kate Shuert
The Mole Hill Stories by Alvaro Saar Rios is a staged adaptation of three children’s stories by the acclaimed author and illustrator Lois Ehlert. The play follows a community of woodland animals in their forest home as they learn lessons through stories and fables inspired by different Latin-American tales. Actors take on the task of flowing from one creature character to another, providing them with the opportunity to communicate the vibrancy of this world with their bodies through dance and movement. The designers too are tasked with the challenge of bringing the vibrant world of rich colors, patterns, and motifs of Ehlert’s illustrations to the stage. Together they must create a world in which trees turn into grass, birds become hills, and where foxes can make it to the moon.
The standout feature of the play is its easeful use of bilingualism. Featuring characters that speak both English and Spanish the play opens itself to a wider audience, one that is certainly more representative of the city of Chicago’s continuously growing Spanish-speaking population. The two languages operate in tandem, allowing for any given audience member who has fluency in one language but not the other to fill in the gaps with movement and context. At times the play’s use of spoken language creates barriers between characters and at others opens doors for new modes of communication. The mouthpieces may be fuzzy friends, but this play illustrates the variety of ways we all communicate in and outside of the confines of spoken language. Yet, I worry that English could easily dominate the stage if this balance is not handled with care. Perhaps, as an adaptation of an even larger adaptation, this play’s conception provides a model for how languages and stories are changed by those who have access to them.
HD1 – The Royale by Marco Ramirez and directed by Emil Thomas
By Laura Rodriguez Sierra
Inspired by the legend of Jack Johnson, the first African American world heavyweight boxing victor,The Royale by Macro Ramirez tells the story of Jay “the Sport” Jackson and his fight to become the next heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Jay and his sparring partner Fish, an up-and-coming boxer, attempt to fight publicly through the dangerous world of the Jim Crow era in the United States. The Royale explores the question of what American freedom meant in the 1905 and leaves room to ponder on how much freedom we all have in the U.S. today. Max, a fight promoter and referee, finesses his way through the systems of the sports industry, white supremacy, and the societal nature of show business with an ease of a person holding white privilege. Nina, Jay’s sister, finds freedom in safety, fearing Jay’s ambition will cause more harm than good. Wynston, Jay and Fish’s trainer, struggles to balance his own ambition to uphold the Black legacy of boxing while holding onto the American history of violence against Black bodies.
As my fellow theatre artists will know, we must always ask the question “why this play now?” What stories, what lessons, what struggles and truths will we find? This play goes beyond boxing culture in the early twentieth century; as director Emil Thomas has shared within preliminary production meetings, this play speaks to the search for freedom in a country riddled with oppressive systems especially tailored to reject People of Color–and in The Royale, Black Americans. However, playwright Marco Ramirez identifies as a Cuban American yet writes on the African American experience. In his interview with Stay Thirsty Media Magazine, Ramirez shares that in his process of writing The Royale, the play came to reflect race relations, along with family and the concept of cultural icons in American media. The Royale, then, is not a story that exclusively explores a Black experience, but also one that offers a glimpse into the American experience for the cultural outcasts that strive to be seen.
HD2 – Killing of a Gentleman Defender by Carlos Murillo and directed by Carlos Murillo
By Camille Pugliese
Carlos Murillo’s Killing of a Gentleman Defender lives within multiple worlds, occupying its protagonist’s present, his memories, and his dreams. Martin, the protagonist, is a playwright commissioned by a large institution to work with Chicago’s ‘underprivileged youth’ to create a play about the way gun violence affects them. In actuality, Martín and his students write about Colombian soccer star Andres Escobar’s murder after the 1994 World Cup. This is the story his youth ensemble wanted to tell–it’s a metaphor. Martín/Martin fights against the institution's wishes while trying to serve the teens he is working with the best that he can.
Though the play is primarily focused on Martin’s development, I am most curious about the youth ensemble of the play, composed of six students from Chicago’s South Side. Many of them don't have much dialogue outside of the play within the play. I am interested to see the way TTS actors embody the dimensionality of these students, especially considering the emotional connection required only deepens as the play goes on.
For a play with such a strong sense of institutional critique, I am left wondering: how it will read within our own institution. One of the primary challenges that Martin faces is how to work within a system that is actively exploiting the very community it is trying to support. This is a conundrum that has come up several times within my dramaturgy classes–at last, it is dramatized on the very stages in question.. Killing of a Gentleman Defender asks the relevant and complicated question: Are we critiquing the stories we tell from within?
P3 – A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare, edited by Don Fleming and directed by Chris Anthony
By Grace Archer
Chris Anthony leads a reprise of the theatre’s favorite bard at The Theatre School with A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Merle Reskin next spring. The whimsical environment and physical comedy woven into the script perfectly encapsulates the style of the Playworks stage. I’m personally excited to see this execution in such a grand theatrical space, allowing for greater exploration into the immersion of Shakespeare. For many young audience members, A Midsummer Night’s Dream will be an introduction to classical dramatic literature and language. Perhaps I’m biased from my own first experiences with Shakespeare, but I believe the witty and chaotic nature of this play has the potential to stimulate its audience.
With any Shakespearean production, the challenge arises of how to ensure the audience understands what is going on. When factoring in the young age range that Playworks markets to, it is vital that the production discusses this challenge while equally unpacking the particularly complicated text in the rehearsal process. There are multiple iterations for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but I have never seen a production intended for an elementary to middle school audience. This specific version of the play certainly quickens the pace of the show and brings action to the forefront of its understanding. I am confident though in the expertise and experience Chris Anthony has with Shakespeare to smooth out these concerns and provide a marvelous and concise story for school-aged children.
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