All three productions for our upcoming Night of New Works are hard at work in rehearsals. For The Golden Carp, we’re using puppetry and movement to bring the world of this all-new chamber opera to life. I want to give you a sneak peek into our rehearsal process for this piece and the puppets we’ve created so far. - Amber

I learned something awesome at  Northern Spark this year: if you want large amounts of cardboard, just ask a bike shop. I somehow managed to cram two bike boxes into the passenger side of my car and drive short distances with huge blinds spots. Fellow travelers in the Twin Cities, I apologize. But now a team of puppeteers can get to business.

We’re collaborating on movement and puppetry for three songs plus an overture. One song is set underwater.

We’ve drawn inspiration from the silhouettes of carp, trout, and catfish.

Does anyone think of The Rainbow Fish when they see this?
EDIT: Unfortunately, the images in this post are no longer available. BUMMER because they were cool!

For the character of the Golden Carp, our puppet team picked a fabric that could be flashy and and subtle.

What’dya think? Join us at the Bryant-Lake Bowl on July 20th, 21st, 27th, and 28th for three new works: A Gamer’s Guide to the Five Stage of Grief, STOP!, and The Golden Carp. Four performances, three shows, and lots of fun! Tickets on sale now.

Company member Carl Aitya Swanson reflects and finds joy. Now we've got our sites set on Night of New Works at the Bryant Lake Bowl. Tickets on sale now!



You’ve probably seen that image, or some permutation of it, floating around the web. I know that it’s popped up in my Facebook feed often enough over the last few months for it to be in my mind a lot throughout the process of making Care Enough. The show is closed now, which is to say that the performers are no longer muscling out their delicate and rough magic in the confines of the Nimbus Theatre, which was such a good home to us. But just because the show is closed, doesn’t mean that Care Enough is over because the conversations around it still continue.

I want to take a moment to thank everyone who spoke to me and to the company after the show, posted on Facebook, tweeted, and sent e-mails, as well as to the critics who came out and wrote about it – even those who didn’t find the answers or values they were seeking in the work. I’ll readily admit that as a first-time full-length playwright, there was a lot of risk involved, especially in trying to tease out almost a decade worth of personal and political frustrations into a semblance of an emotional and intellectual structure. I’ll also say that Care Enough wasn’t written to provide answers to the questions of where we are now. Every time in the writing and rehearsal process we tried to put in an answer to those questions, it felt like a lie of false certainty. I didn’t want to lie to you. The poet Sarah Kay had a resonant response to a question of process on Krista Tippett’s On Being program, which I heard in the middle of Care Enough rehearsals whilst driving through the rain around Aitken, MN;

“I write a poem when there's something I cannot navigate without poetry. And in doing so, when I put that poem out into the world, what I'm saying is, hey, look at me trying to figure this thing out, which I haven't yet, but this is me trying. If you're trying to figure this out too, maybe this can help you or maybe you can help me. And then maybe together we can make something make more sense than it does right now. I think that that's what it means to be human is to volunteer your experience in an effort to say, hey, this is what I've got. What do you have over there? Can we make something work here?”

That’s it in a nutshell, what Keats called the “Negative Capability” of art - to hold uncertainties and conflict together without seeking easy resolution, expanded to a collaborative new era.* 
When people came up after the show and told me how they felt it reflected some aspect of their life and uncertainty, it was so wonderful to hear. I am uncertain; you are too. Let’s talk about that. The power of witness is to be seen and acknowledged, and for many whom I spoke to, the play had a power to help them see something of themselves that was difficult to get at, even if they weren’t sure of all of the details. There were lots of sweet ironies, I felt, in people saying they didn’t “get it” and then telling me what they felt, piecing together their own narratives and making their own meanings from the work. That’s getting it. As our fabulous leading lady Anna Carol put it to a group of high-school student in an impromptu Q&A after the show, “Life doesn’t have a button,** so we didn’t put one in there.” That didn’t stop people from having their own interpretations, which was part of the point of making a show about the unresolved state of being.

IMAGE NOT AVAILABLE: A word cloud of the top 75 words in the “Describe the show in one sentence” part of our audience survey.

It seems unfair, in a way, that we asked for a one sentence description of how people experienced Care Enough in our post-show survey. It almost felt too immediate. I know that it will take me some time to process the experience fully, and that others have told me that they want to talk later. I look forward to those conversations and hope that they’ll happen. I feel like from the initial conversations I’ve learned something about the limits of that Negative Capability - how far an audience will go with you and how far some might not want to go. After the show my grandmother told me that she was very proud and then suggested that maybe I should write a musical comedy next. She also promised me an e-mail with more of her thoughts. I look forward to that, and, who knows, I might take her up on her suggestion. With Savage Umbrella, we have the chance to do many things together.

I also want to, as I have tried to do in all the conversations I’ve had throughout the run, express my gratitude to the actors and designers who made Care Enough what it was in front of audiences. I was amazed throughout the rehearsal process and the run how the actors’ discovery of inflection, the underscoring of lights, and the punctuation of sound added new dimensions to the words I had written, added new depths and emotions. I couldn’t have done anything without them. That’s why, despite my love of music and art (and having them as an initial inspiration much of the time), I work in theater most often – it is a human interaction that grows through time, a conversation. It’s easier to deal with difficulty, with distilling down anger and fear and frustrations, when you have beautiful, caring and open people to do it with.

Right about the time that we were wrapping the show on Saturday night and starting to party, a couple miles away in front of the Walker Art Center, 10,000 people were packed in to watch The Hold Steady finish up their set at Rock the Garden. It’s a band I love, and one of the things that I love most about it was frontman Craig Finn’s ending to the set on Saturday night. It went like this - “Well, you know, it can be hard to explain, but I’m just going to come out and say it. There is so much joy in what we do up here. I want to thank you all for being here tonight to share that joy with us.”

And that’s the truth of it, even in difficulty there is joy in what we do, which is why we care enough to keep on. We always want to hear from you, and if you didn’t like what you saw this time, tell us, and stick around. It’s like the joke about Minnesota weather - we’re always changing. Up next we have a  Night of New Works with three short pieces and works-in-progress. There will be snippets of an opera, puppets, a play about video games, and dance, and, as always, all of us figuring it out together.

*Or, to quote Saint Augustine of Hippo from 1600 years ago, “Let us, on both sides, lay aside all arrogance. Let us not, on either side, claim that we have already discovered the truth. Let us seek it together as something which is known to neither of us. For then only may we seek it, lovingly and tranquilly, if there be no bold presumption that it is already discovered and possessed.”

**”Button” in this sense doesn’t refer to a bright red fix-it button like in those Staples commercials, but as a piece of theatrical nomenclature for a definitive punchline, or closing number to wrap it all up. Which, actually, is about the same thing. And we don’t have it.

Hello all! Join us tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday for Care Enough. Our closing night party is Saturday! All are welcome -- no matter when you've seen the show. Heck, bring a friend who hasn't seen the show! Just come and hang out. We want you to get under the umbrella.

Rehearsals are busting out for Night of New Works. THE GOLDEN CARP crew and I have been having a lot of fun. Here are some photos to get you up to speed. The puppet crew and I went on a trip to Jo-Ann Fabrics. We had ten minutes to rush around the store and grab whatever we thought represented the show. After time was up, we gathered and talked about the things we grabbed and came up with a color scheme.

EDIT: Unfortunately, the images in this post are no longer available, so we'll leave you with a few awesome rehearsal pics!

Hi Internet-land!
 
Amber asked me to write something about Care Enough, but I just thought I would tell you in person instead. Or as "in person" as it gets on the web when we're not tweeting at eachther in real time (using the #CareEnough hashtag, natch). Plus, I've been writing a lot for and about the show and it's good practice for me to talk about it, since I'm going to have to for the talkback on June 8th anyway. So this is a little video about why you should come to see Care Enough and the point is, you should come because you choose to - but if you come because a friend or family member or loved one makes you, I'm not going to fight that.
 
Looking forward to talking with you actually in person "in person",
 
Carl

We’ve got just nine days until opening Care Enough! We wanted to take this opportunity to tell you about some of our community events around the show. Plus, a bonus silly Q&A with the cast! - Laura & Amber

Friday, June 1 – OPENING NIGHT PARTY with post-show music by FORT WILSON RIOT
Saturday, June 2
Sunday, June 3 – Sundae Sunday – Pre-Show Ice Cream Social!
Thursday, June 7
Friday, June 8 – Pre-show Happy Hour/Post-Show Panel Discussion *
Saturday, June 9 – Post-Show Live Music
Sunday, June 10 – Sundae Sunday – Pre-Show Ice Cream Social!
Monday, June 11
Thursday, June 14
Friday, June 15
Saturday, June 16– CLOSING NIGHT PARTY

* The panel includes: Eleanor Hall, post-Jungian psychotherapist and author; Ben Egerman, theater artist and community organizer with Occupy Homes MN; Alex Cleberg, consultant with Intercultural Collective and Carl Atiya Swanson, playwright.

All events are open to the public - please join us!

And now the Q&A with these quirky cuties...

Anna Carol (Sophia)

What’s your middle name?
Carol

Do you like watching musicals or dramas?
Ambivalent

Santino Craven (Sebastian)

Starbucks, Caribou, or Foldgers?
Starbucks!!

Describe Savage Umbrella in three words.
Dangerously fearless theatre, or engage through (the) core

Kathryn Fumie (Company of Participants)

Rollercoasters or Tilt-a-whirl?
Rollercoasters

Skittles or M&Ms?
M&Ms

Sarah Hollows (Company of Participants)

Describe your Savage Umbrella experience in three words.
Hole-lee shit

Skittles or M&Ms?
M&Ms

Mason Mahoney (Company of Participants)

What’s your signature move?
The scorpian

What’s your middle name?
Ray

Nora Sachs (Company of Participants)


Favorite rehearsal moment?
Spelling our names with our own bodies for each other

Describe your Savage Umbrella experience in three words.
Yippe-Ki-Yay!

Adam Scarpello (Stephen)

Favorite rehearsal moment?
The Jesus carry

Skittles or M&Ms?
Skittles

Guest blogger this week is T. Martin Crouse, one of the brains behind local publisher Sic Semper Serpent. I asked Crouse about what brought him (back) to the Minneapolis and Saint Paul arts scene. Here’s his love letter to Twin Cities theatre, new work, and The Story. Publishing opportunities included! - Amber

Minneapolis is a publisher’s dream. We have enough opportunity to draw skilled writing talent from around the world, but not enough to keep everyone busy. There’s all sorts of undiscovered fiction, non-fiction and poetry to be found in our Small Town Metropolis. Some of it is really, really good. But what excites this modest Editor-in-Chief, and the publishing house he represents, is the wealth of dramatic literature that saturates the very pores of this city.

As an actor turned writer turned publisher, I harbor a deep fondness for my first Fine Art love: live theater. The active performance community of Mpls/St. Paul is one of the many qualities that drew me back to this region to begin my publishing house, Sic Semper Serpent. What I found here amazes even me.

One-off small-time productions inundate the area like spontaneous theater is commonplace. If only every city could be like this; a hotbed of talent running so thick it overflows into the bowling alleys, converted warehouses and community spaces of each and every vibrant neighborhood. There’s at least two centers devoted just to playwrights, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Beyond the stage, writers and poets of the land tell tall tales that could stretch the imagination of Nostradamus himself. Words are cheap around the world, but the stories are priceless in Minnesota.

That’s the motto at Sic Semper Serpent, anyway. In a time when language is changing, when doorbells are text messages and laughter is lol, it is important to remember the art of The Story. Linguistics can (and will) transform to match society and technology; its rules are transitive and subject to change. But the reason to swap our words will never change: to communicate thoughts and ideas with narrative. This is still done in many ways today, i.e. stand up comics, television, film, literature, and (certain parts of) the internet, etc.

We are dedicated to preserving The Story. Unlike more conventional publishers, we don’t fear the changing state of language. We embrace it. Theater will always be a great way to tell a story, and to theater Sic Semper Serpent is thusly bound. (publishing humor).

We want to support the fine practicing creative talent of the greater metro area, and give potential patrons more reason to leave their homes and exercise their freedom of expression. Art is beauty and beauty is alive. Will you help us breathe life into the beauty that walks these streets? If yes (especially if hell yes!), then add your voice to the growing din of The Fugue.

We're having a wicked awesome, totally free magazine release party on June 20th. Please join us!




T. Martin Crouse has trained as an actor, self-realized as a writer, and only recently found his calling as an independent publisher. Ask him about space, dinosaurs, books, music or theater. Go on, I dare you. Tom wants all Savage Umbrella-ers to know that thespians excite him.

This week on the blog, Savage Umbrella company member Amber Davis looks at the labor roots of May Day and weighs in on The Mill, Workhaus Collective's new play.

May Day is such an awesome time of year.

“Oh yeah, May Day! Like with all the puppets and stuff?”

Nope. That’s not what I meant.

May Day has green (pagan) traditions, sure, but I feel like all the artists in the Twin Cities, especially south Minneapolis, forget about the red tradition. The labor tradition.

May 1st is International Workers’ Day. So forget the puppets for a bit.

It surprises me that our community ignores May Day’s red roots, because wait; aren’t a whole bunch of our friends apart of Actor’s Equity Association, the Stage Manager Association, the Stage Director’s and Choreographer’s Society, or United Scenic Artists, and other similar organizations?

This year, one of the many ways I chose to celebrate International Workers’ Day was to see Workhaus Collective’s new play, The Mill by Jeannine Coulombe, at the Playwrights’ Center on Monday April 30th.

With May Day in mind, I’d like to share some thoughts about The Mill and hear your thoughts, too.

So I know the play is gonna be awesome even before I see it. It’s from Workhaus (heck yes), Katharine Moeller is in it (an SU friend and collaborator), and the play brings up worker’s rights issues. Bam! The play is a perfect fit to my May Day week.

There was just one thing that has stuck with me and made me think (and of course, I like it when new plays do that).

The play is set in northern Minnesota and is centered around a town where many of the residents work at the local paper mill. The mill has a chance to expand its company, but there’s one catch: The workers must vote to sign a new (and unimproved) contract to continue working.

One character, Case, (played beautifully by Eric Webster) is the play’s most vocal character about labor issues and the right to strike. He insists to the other characters that striking is a good idea and is the most direct way to move forward with negotiations. And if you ask me, of course that’s the most direct action! Case is right. We have power in numbers. That’s why SU works as a co-operative.

Here’s the thing. Throughout the course of The Mill, Case is revealed to be a sexist and racist working class man. He also happens to be interested in organizing workers.

He slaps a female character (Luce, played by Jodi Kellogg) on the butt in act one. Sure, it was playful, but it was not consensual. Case then commits acts of violence against strikebreaker workers, many of whom speak English as their second language. To add fuel to the fire, Case exchanges cold words and even icier stares with El Salvadoran neighbor Ignacio (played by the strong James Rodriguez).

I’ve been thinking. Why did the playwright choose to show an character sympathetic to the worker’s cause, while coloring him as a sexist and racist?

Doesn’t this make the play seem anti-union?

I don’t think The Mill is an anti-union play, but this character almost made it feel that way. To me, the subtle coincidence portrayed something deeper than intended.

Did you see The Mill? What did you think? How do you think the play portrayed union workers and labor voices?

Here’s what Lisa Brock at the Star Tribune thought. And Ed Huyck at CityPages.

For the rest of the week I’ll be wearing red and black in solidarity. Happy May Day!

(Yeah, okay, okay.... go enjoy the puppets too. Will I see you Sunday?)

Savage Umbrella Artistic Director Laura Leffler-McCabe responds to the debate over diversity in the Guthrie's 2012-13 Season Announcement

Well, Guthrie, you're certainly stirring stuff up. Certainly.

As I thought about how to respond to the Guthrie's announcement of their 2012-13 season, I realized I was thinking a lot about how to respond. When I initially saw the announcement, I also saw the Facebook reactions of many talented women in the theatre community who I respect and admire: Leah Cooper, Lisa Channer, Kim Hines, Michelle Hensley, Kira Obolensky, immediately speaking out, reacting.

I didn't comment on those Facebook threads. But I did read. All the articles, from the City Pages's 2003 article about the lack of female presence at the Guthrie, to the Star Tribune article, to MPR's article by Kim Hines, to the TPT segment, to Marianne Combs's article on MPR, to Levi Weinhagen's weekly blog on mnplaylist.com, to Polly Carl's moving article "A Boy in a Man's Theater" on HowlRound, to Lauren Gunderson's Huffington Post article. So I read, and I thought. And I thought and I thought. And I told Amber I wanted to write about "the Guthrie mess," and I wasn't sure what to say.

Am I appalled? Yes. But it's not new. I remember seeing a production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile at what was then the Missouri Rep (now the Kansas City Rep) in 2000 or 2001, and pouncing on the lead actress  at the talk back, pleading to know how it felt to be in a show with significantly fewer female roles than male, and how did she cope with that in her career? I think generally people asked how she memorized all those lines, so she was pretty thrown by my question. Which to be fair, had nothing to do with the play. But she did find me  afterward and had a nice heart-to-heart about the realities of being a woman working in the theatre. She was sympathetic, but in a lot of ways, powerless to change it. She had to take roles to make ends meet, and that often meant being the one woman in a sea of men. At any rate.

Yes, appalled for a long time. Enough to start my own theatre company where I could make the decisions and write and direct and have that be normal. Lauren Gunderson hit on it perfectly in her article, "Maybe what we really dream of is the day when plays by and about women would stop being ‘women's plays’ and start being -- oh, y'know -- really successful, moneymaking, audience-supported, universal, true, bold, smart plays. Everyone wants those plays, no matter what your gender."

So Savage Umbrella isn't a "woman's theatre" (though I highly admire Theatre Unbound, 20% Theatre Company, and all the other companies committed to doing good work by and for women). But I didn't want to be a niche theatre. I just wanted to be a theatre that does good work, that happens to currently have 8 female members out of 11, that happens to have 5 of our 6 projects this year directed by women, and that happens to have 4 out of our 6 projects this year written by women. It isn't an issue with us. We just happen to have more women around, and believe that they are talented enough to direct on our main stage (yeah, that a reference to Joe Dowling's comment that "I employ people because of their talent, male or female. It is a very stern task to direct on a stage of our size, and I am responsible to the board for the shows we produce.")

So the question remains, how to respond? I've decided on two main points to bring up.

1. The Guthrie isn't all bad or evil or anything as simple as all that. While I've seen my fair share of shows there that I wasn't impressed by, and while I've skipped seeing many of their shows because I just didn't care, I have seen a few amazing things there. Peer Gynt with Mark Rylance? Caroline, or Change with Greta Oglesby? and (probably less universally well-loved) the world-premiere of The Master Butcher's Singing Club with Emily Gunyou Halaas? All of those shows blew me away, touched me to the core, made me think for months and months after seeing them, and did all the great things that theatre is supposed to do to you. Their recent Macbeth? Well, I had trouble not laughing out loud, I thought it was that bad. So what? Every theatre does work that sometimes misses and sometimes hits.

And I think they have at least three hits in the 2012-13 season. Three world-premieres. That's incredible. That seems like a huge step for them. New work is IMPORTANT. And they're doing a fair amount of new work. Good on them.

2. That's not enough. While it is awesome that they've got three world-premieres for the community to experience, they also have a responsibility to the community. I respectfully disagree with Levi's assessment that instead of hoping the Guthrie will change, we should put our money and efforts elsewhere. I mean, yes, support the theatres that are doing the work you want to see (especially if it's Savage Umbrella, right?). But I think that lets the big G off too easy. As Ben Layne pointed out in his open letter to Joe Dowling, with great power comes great responsibility. Not to mention, they are a non-profit institution, with public funding! It's in their mission statement to present diverse works! They're supposed to be a national leader! Their season just isn't visionary enough. It's not enough.

When I was in graduate school, one of my many part time jobs was to assistant coach forensics at my nearby undergraduate institution. One of the strongest memories I have from that time is driving the team in a 15-passenger van. Driving them to every Super8 in rural Kansas, Nebraska, and Missouri, it felt like. And if you've ever driven a monster that is a 15-passenger van you know: those things are big and hard to turn around.

The Guthrie is kind of like a 15-passenger van. I understand that it's hard to make big changes at big institutions. But, if I can back that huge van into a McDonald's at 6 am with a van full of under-caffeinated college freshman, I believe the Guthrie can do better. And should. The three world-premieres are a good start. But, seriously, it's been decades that this inequality has persisted. It's not about quotas, it's about taking a chance on talent that isn't milky-white and that doesn't have a penis. You take a risk a couple of times, and suddenly it doesn't feel so risky anymore. I promise.

This week's post is a reflection on seeing new plays. Enjoy! -Amber


I’m thinking about seeing In the Belly, a play by Insurgent Theatre, that deals with the issues around imprisonment and the prison system. It works as a fundraiser for RedBird Prison Abolition, and also supports the artists on their tour. It’s a play that I’ve never seen before, from a group that I’m not familiar with, about a topic I know very little about.

Here’s the deal: Even though I love new plays, I’ve been dragging my feet about coming to this one. I know it’s going to be sad and violent. The facebook invite literally tells me that. I know I’m going to want to think critically about it, respond to it, and maybe stay for the talk back (I’m always curious what other people will say but I don’t like to “talk back” myself).

I know Insurgent Theatre will probably do an awesome job, but with a piece like this, it may be easy to go in a whole lotta strange directions. Either it’s awesome, and we’ll go see the show and feel like shit afterwards due to the harsh images and ugly reality the work is bringing to light. Or it could be bad. It could be poorly put together, painstakingly long, and preachy. Then we’ll just feel horrible during and after.

But I have to keep myself in check. Don’t I like new plays? Yes. I love it. It gives the viewer the opportunity to think, reflect, talk, talk, talk, and come together in a space with live people. Breathing, thinking, reflecting! It’s so nice to have community rather than sit in front of my computer screen.

I remember an old newsletter I got from the Playwrights’ Center. It was a “guide” to seeing new plays. I remember one piece of advice that’s stuck with, and I’ll paraphrase it here:

“Leave your reservations at the door.” Like literally, reserve your tickets. But also quit being so judgey! Sometimes we love to hate what we're watching. "Get over it, and get over yourself." (Thanks, PWC).

So I’m going to make my own rules about seeing new plays.

1. Leave your judgement pants at the door
Okay, Amber. You don’t know the play is going to be bad. It might actually be really, really friggin’ awesome. So shut it.

2. Do it on the cheap
Do I really want to see theatre for $29-51? No. No, no no. Thanks Guthrie for doing three world-premieres next year, but goodness. $20 for the rush line? Get me a beer with that. Also, stop calling me and asking me for money.

3. Be brave
See something from a company you don’t know about. See a play you’ve never heard of. See something that you don’t normally see. You do theatre? Then watch a film. You’re a dancer? Go to a concert.

4. Bring a friend
No matter what. At least you’ll have someone that you like to talk about it with.

Okay, so I’m scared to see In the Belly. Yes. It’s true. But self: Don’t Worry. It’s donations-only (cheap), I’ve got a friend or two ready to go, and I’m just going to be brave.

There are two ways to see the play:
Wed Apr 18th
7PM at Sister's Camelot
2310 Snelling Avenue

Thu Apr 19th
7PM at The Exchange with Support CeCe!
3405 Chicago Ave

A first from Savage Umbrella! A Night of New Works - it’s more than a workshop, it’s not quite a full production. It’s an experiment! Wild, wacky new works with edge, smarts and heart. We’re so very grateful for everyone who auditioned, and super excited to announce our casts and production team!

 
STOP!
a dance movement piece
choreographed by Christina Lein
with Hannah Holman
featuring
Megan Hadley
Hannah Holman
Tamara Titsworth
Andrew Young

 
The Gamer’s Guide to the Five Stages of Grief
a short play about reality, virtual and otherwise
by Russ Dugger
directed by Tanner Curl
featuring
Neal Beckman as Andy
Blake E. Bolan as Michele
Heidi Jedlicka as Keli
Adam Scarpello as The Game

 
The Golden Carp
an operetta
music by Candace Bilyk
libretto by Laura Leffler-McCabe
directed by Amber Davis
music direction by Danny Sadowsky
featuring
Evan Boyce as The Carp
Emily Dussault as The Fairy
Karen Massey as The Friend
and puppeteers Alex Hapka and Jami Jerome

 
The entire evening is curated by Laura Leffler-McCabe
Production Manager...Rachel Nelson
Stage Manager...Claire Nadeau
Intern...Jessica Spivey