Next Stages Conference - March 2007 – Dramaturgy & Beyond.
Celebrating 25 years of North West Playwrights.
Jack Bradley:
How many playwrights does it take to change a light bulb?
What do you mean change?
How many dramaturges does it take to change a light bulb?
Does it have to be a light bulb?
Is development enough? Is it a convenient excuse for theatres who don’t want to take risks with new writers? Do most writers now write for development rather than production with the anticipation that the dramaturg will fix it?
Steve Waters:
What is success as a playwright? Is there such thing as a breakthrough? This indicates that the phone never stops ringing, that bills are continually paid that you live off endless commissions, make appearances and keep the press at bay. The reality is perhaps the necessity to keep breaking through in order to make a name for yourself. It’s hard work – stop and no-one would notice, retiring isn’t possible.
What commercial responsibility does the playwright have regarding the success or failure of his/her play in production? The playwright is both maker and commodity when his/her work becomes about audience ratings,
The idea of the playwright’s career suggests a linear progression from ‘lonely genius’ to knighthood. Whereas the reality is fraught with lay-offs, set-backs and gear changes and is perhaps closer to careering about than any predestined progression.
Kara McKenchnie:
Dramaturgy can only exist in a collaborative structure. The dramaturg should be diplomatic but assertive, have the ability to think structurally but flexibly and be aware of conflicting agendas within the collaborative team.
Should a dramaturg be a narrative fundamentalist?
A dramaturg should ask not tell.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Story..story..story
Story..story..story
A productive session with Development Producer Justine Potter at BBC North has given rise to the following points; read, digest and comment if you will:
Sending a script to the Writer’s Room:
1. All scripts are read (although it could take up to three months before you receive a response). You will receive one of three responses; a full script report, an invitation to contact a producer with an interest in your writing style, a simple no.
2. Once you have submitted a script you cannot re-submit it after working on the advice given.
3. All plays which receive positive responses will be passed on to a producer, there is no point in you sending work directly to a producer.
The commissioning process:
1. The producer is responsible for working with the writer on the idea with the ultimate aim of getting the play made and broadcast. This is dependant on getting the idea agreed by the commissioning editor in the offers round.
2. The offers round for the afternoon play happens twice per year (May and October)
3. The writer creates a paragraph which describes their idea, if this is agreed the writer then produces a two-page synopsis and might include a sample scene.
4. The writer usually has between 3-9 months to write the play. This process includes deadlines; at each stage the draft is read and commented on by the producer.
The producer’s job:
1. The producer works as script editor/dramaturg on the play.
2. He/she then casts the play (with the help of the broadcast assistant)
3. He/she directs the play in studio (usually over two days)
4. He/she then edits the play (usually 3/4 days)
The writer’s job:
1. Understand the medium of radio.
2. Understand the slots and opportunities out there.
3. Listen to a wide range of radio drama.
4. Foster a good relationship with your producer.
5. Have the ability to respond to feedback given, adhere to the deadlines of the drafting process.
6. Keep coming up with new ideas and be realistic about moving on from failures.
The writing:
1. The afternoon play is summarised in three words; story..story..story
2. Find a new way of telling yours; radio drama has been producing over 40 years of domestic drama – how can you do it differently?
3. Consider the switch off factor – this happens within the first two minutes – which is the first two pages in writing terms.
4. Start mid-scene, cut to the chase.
5. Whose story is it? Consider the main character – let us see their journey.
6. The audience needs to be one of the characters in the play.
7. What is the genre? The audience generally want to know fairly early on.
8. Everyone’s opinion is subjective – give the audience a reason to be surprised/entertained/educated/informed.
9. Don’t write for a slot/for an imagined audience – write the play you want passionately to write.
10. Internal monologue is often an excuse for exposition.
11. Beware of issue based plays; what are you saying? How are you saying it? Who are you to say it?!
12. What is the central question?
13. Why is this story being told now?
A productive session with Development Producer Justine Potter at BBC North has given rise to the following points; read, digest and comment if you will:
Sending a script to the Writer’s Room:
1. All scripts are read (although it could take up to three months before you receive a response). You will receive one of three responses; a full script report, an invitation to contact a producer with an interest in your writing style, a simple no.
2. Once you have submitted a script you cannot re-submit it after working on the advice given.
3. All plays which receive positive responses will be passed on to a producer, there is no point in you sending work directly to a producer.
The commissioning process:
1. The producer is responsible for working with the writer on the idea with the ultimate aim of getting the play made and broadcast. This is dependant on getting the idea agreed by the commissioning editor in the offers round.
2. The offers round for the afternoon play happens twice per year (May and October)
3. The writer creates a paragraph which describes their idea, if this is agreed the writer then produces a two-page synopsis and might include a sample scene.
4. The writer usually has between 3-9 months to write the play. This process includes deadlines; at each stage the draft is read and commented on by the producer.
The producer’s job:
1. The producer works as script editor/dramaturg on the play.
2. He/she then casts the play (with the help of the broadcast assistant)
3. He/she directs the play in studio (usually over two days)
4. He/she then edits the play (usually 3/4 days)
The writer’s job:
1. Understand the medium of radio.
2. Understand the slots and opportunities out there.
3. Listen to a wide range of radio drama.
4. Foster a good relationship with your producer.
5. Have the ability to respond to feedback given, adhere to the deadlines of the drafting process.
6. Keep coming up with new ideas and be realistic about moving on from failures.
The writing:
1. The afternoon play is summarised in three words; story..story..story
2. Find a new way of telling yours; radio drama has been producing over 40 years of domestic drama – how can you do it differently?
3. Consider the switch off factor – this happens within the first two minutes – which is the first two pages in writing terms.
4. Start mid-scene, cut to the chase.
5. Whose story is it? Consider the main character – let us see their journey.
6. The audience needs to be one of the characters in the play.
7. What is the genre? The audience generally want to know fairly early on.
8. Everyone’s opinion is subjective – give the audience a reason to be surprised/entertained/educated/informed.
9. Don’t write for a slot/for an imagined audience – write the play you want passionately to write.
10. Internal monologue is often an excuse for exposition.
11. Beware of issue based plays; what are you saying? How are you saying it? Who are you to say it?!
12. What is the central question?
13. Why is this story being told now?
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Afternoon Play - Review
‘How To Remember The Dead’ – Jemma Kennedy – Afternoon Play Wed 1st March
SYNOPSIS & NOTES
1. The play opens with flashback of an incident between a young man (John) and an elderly Polish man who has just collapsed on the street in front of him.
STRENGTH – Good bold opening – overlapping voices add intrigue.
2. John wakes up – it was another bad dream. We discover the old man died and that John can’t get the incident out of his head.
3. A naturalistic scene between John and his partner Sophie. John has been calling in sick at work, there has been tension in the relationship since the incident happened. Sophie puts pressure on John to think about their anniversary and make an effort in their relationship. She is unsympathetic and uninterested in John's recurring dreams.
PLAUSABILITY – can you have such a lucid conversation in the middle of the night?
WEAKNESS – Aren’t they in a rather clichéd relationship – fulfilling very typical gender roles? What is interesting/different about them? Why do we want to spend 45minutes discovering their secrets/desires..? What can they offer us? How is their relationship going to change/develop?
4. John meets a Polish taxi driver who is far more sympathetic. He translates a tape that John made of the dying man.
PLAUSABILITY – John is a Sociology teacher – he always carries a Dictaphone with him (?)
5. John persuades the taxi driver to take him to a church. They witness mass. They have a conversation about the differences between them. Poland and England.
WEAKNESS – The relationship feels phoney. The exchanges are superficial.
DIALOGUE – Feels void of any real feeling and is rather clichéd – ‘I take your money then I say bye bye.’ Does anyone really speak like this? Where is the emotion? Where is the dramatic tension? Where are the three dimensional characters?
6. John continues to argue with Sophie, she continues to threaten him.
7. Sophie suddenly relents and John invites the Polish guy round, they get drunk and we discover that Sophie has set him up with her best friend.
WHAT ABOUT THE DEAD GUY? Why haven’t we found anything interesting out about this? Why has the writer dumped this storyline in the favour of a plot driven TV style drama? Why is this radio?
8. Sophie leaves John.
9. John sends her flowers.
10. Sophie comes home.
11. Polish taxi driver and John witness the funeral (how) of the dead bloke. John decides he doesn’t feel that attached to him or the idea of him anymore. He has family etc. John can how more on. They destroy the tape (not that we know what was on it anyway or why it was particularly significant)
Was there a sense of journey – yes a superficial one. We didn’t feel at all connected/interested in John. His connection with the dead bloke was never explored. How do we feel at the end of 45 minutes..disappointed.
SYNOPSIS & NOTES
1. The play opens with flashback of an incident between a young man (John) and an elderly Polish man who has just collapsed on the street in front of him.
STRENGTH – Good bold opening – overlapping voices add intrigue.
2. John wakes up – it was another bad dream. We discover the old man died and that John can’t get the incident out of his head.
3. A naturalistic scene between John and his partner Sophie. John has been calling in sick at work, there has been tension in the relationship since the incident happened. Sophie puts pressure on John to think about their anniversary and make an effort in their relationship. She is unsympathetic and uninterested in John's recurring dreams.
PLAUSABILITY – can you have such a lucid conversation in the middle of the night?
WEAKNESS – Aren’t they in a rather clichéd relationship – fulfilling very typical gender roles? What is interesting/different about them? Why do we want to spend 45minutes discovering their secrets/desires..? What can they offer us? How is their relationship going to change/develop?
4. John meets a Polish taxi driver who is far more sympathetic. He translates a tape that John made of the dying man.
PLAUSABILITY – John is a Sociology teacher – he always carries a Dictaphone with him (?)
5. John persuades the taxi driver to take him to a church. They witness mass. They have a conversation about the differences between them. Poland and England.
WEAKNESS – The relationship feels phoney. The exchanges are superficial.
DIALOGUE – Feels void of any real feeling and is rather clichéd – ‘I take your money then I say bye bye.’ Does anyone really speak like this? Where is the emotion? Where is the dramatic tension? Where are the three dimensional characters?
6. John continues to argue with Sophie, she continues to threaten him.
7. Sophie suddenly relents and John invites the Polish guy round, they get drunk and we discover that Sophie has set him up with her best friend.
WHAT ABOUT THE DEAD GUY? Why haven’t we found anything interesting out about this? Why has the writer dumped this storyline in the favour of a plot driven TV style drama? Why is this radio?
8. Sophie leaves John.
9. John sends her flowers.
10. Sophie comes home.
11. Polish taxi driver and John witness the funeral (how) of the dead bloke. John decides he doesn’t feel that attached to him or the idea of him anymore. He has family etc. John can how more on. They destroy the tape (not that we know what was on it anyway or why it was particularly significant)
Was there a sense of journey – yes a superficial one. We didn’t feel at all connected/interested in John. His connection with the dead bloke was never explored. How do we feel at the end of 45 minutes..disappointed.
Grappling with the Dramaturge.
CHARLOTTE ASKED ME TO MUSE ON WORKING WITH A DRAMATURGE, HERE ARE THE MUSINGS.
Be Proud Of Me was commissioned by Mousonturm in Frankfurt. It wasn’t a great deal of money but it wasn’t an expensive show and they made it possible. The devising process was tough, we were working with slides in a blacked out section of our bitterly cold rehearsal space on New Canal Street. Work on this show was dropped in, a week here, a week there, between a host of other projects and touring commitments.
Mousonturm were basically hands-off in their engagement but when they heard that a first sketch version of the show was to be presented in Birmingham, Thomas Frank, our mild-mannered commissioner was straight on a plane.
We had always been a bit twitchy about showing things before they are finished but it seemed worth getting a bit of a steer on this one. After the showing Thomas asked if we could talk together about what he had seen. We sat in a cafe and having noted a few things he thought interesting about what he had seen he then started, in a very delicate but direct way, to take the show apart. Initially it was shocking, in Britain no one ever seems brave enough to actually discuss what they’ve seen in the theatre. I was shaken, he seemed so down on the show I started to worry that we was going to withdraw his commission. Then, eventually the penny dropped. I asked him “are you doing that dramaturge thing?” I had read about this continental figure, the director’s critical friend, now I was experiencing.
Thomas kindly explained how the typical relationship works. “After a rehearsal the Director and Dramaturge will sit down together. The Dramaturge will say ‘that scene did not work, it was far too long, you must cut it in half’, the Director will then reply ‘I agree, that scene doesn’t work, but this not that it is too long, but that it is not nearly long enough, it should be twice the length’” Reassured by this story I continued to listen to the critique before giving a tentative response.
Back in the rehearsal room I ran a selected range of the dramaturge’s thoughts past the devising team and, bearing them in mind, we carried on devising. Ultimately Thomas’ contribution was valuable in the way he had hinted it might be. He posed questions the answers to which informed our understanding of what it was we were trying to make. Things he identified as weaknesses in the show became key elements, which, when fully developed, he was very keen on. This didn’t matter, he forced us to have a strong opinion about them and to commit to them more strongly.
My suspicion is that Dramaturge-Director relationships are unique to the combination of personalities involved and the circumstances in which they are working. Certainly my only other experience of working with a dramaturge, Wouter van Ransbeek, who helped develop Of All The People In All The World for Theater Der Welt 2005, was radically different. Wouter and I were much more relaxed, we met much more, shared ideas and enthusiasms readily and extensively. He took a healthy possession of the show and we laughed together a great deal.
Speculating with next to no knowledge I suggest that the Dramaturge role holds a greater role in theatrical cultures where the Director would otherwise be an isolated figure of great authority. In a devising company working as collaboratively as Stan’s Cafe the role of Directors critical friend feels inappropriate. Maybe within the dynamic of Stan’s Cafe Amanda Hadingue has probably taken a similar position within the devising team and in other circumstance Craig Stephens has been that alternative questioning, prompting voice and council.
James Yarker 9/2/7
Be Proud Of Me was commissioned by Mousonturm in Frankfurt. It wasn’t a great deal of money but it wasn’t an expensive show and they made it possible. The devising process was tough, we were working with slides in a blacked out section of our bitterly cold rehearsal space on New Canal Street. Work on this show was dropped in, a week here, a week there, between a host of other projects and touring commitments.
Mousonturm were basically hands-off in their engagement but when they heard that a first sketch version of the show was to be presented in Birmingham, Thomas Frank, our mild-mannered commissioner was straight on a plane.
We had always been a bit twitchy about showing things before they are finished but it seemed worth getting a bit of a steer on this one. After the showing Thomas asked if we could talk together about what he had seen. We sat in a cafe and having noted a few things he thought interesting about what he had seen he then started, in a very delicate but direct way, to take the show apart. Initially it was shocking, in Britain no one ever seems brave enough to actually discuss what they’ve seen in the theatre. I was shaken, he seemed so down on the show I started to worry that we was going to withdraw his commission. Then, eventually the penny dropped. I asked him “are you doing that dramaturge thing?” I had read about this continental figure, the director’s critical friend, now I was experiencing.
Thomas kindly explained how the typical relationship works. “After a rehearsal the Director and Dramaturge will sit down together. The Dramaturge will say ‘that scene did not work, it was far too long, you must cut it in half’, the Director will then reply ‘I agree, that scene doesn’t work, but this not that it is too long, but that it is not nearly long enough, it should be twice the length’” Reassured by this story I continued to listen to the critique before giving a tentative response.
Back in the rehearsal room I ran a selected range of the dramaturge’s thoughts past the devising team and, bearing them in mind, we carried on devising. Ultimately Thomas’ contribution was valuable in the way he had hinted it might be. He posed questions the answers to which informed our understanding of what it was we were trying to make. Things he identified as weaknesses in the show became key elements, which, when fully developed, he was very keen on. This didn’t matter, he forced us to have a strong opinion about them and to commit to them more strongly.
My suspicion is that Dramaturge-Director relationships are unique to the combination of personalities involved and the circumstances in which they are working. Certainly my only other experience of working with a dramaturge, Wouter van Ransbeek, who helped develop Of All The People In All The World for Theater Der Welt 2005, was radically different. Wouter and I were much more relaxed, we met much more, shared ideas and enthusiasms readily and extensively. He took a healthy possession of the show and we laughed together a great deal.
Speculating with next to no knowledge I suggest that the Dramaturge role holds a greater role in theatrical cultures where the Director would otherwise be an isolated figure of great authority. In a devising company working as collaboratively as Stan’s Cafe the role of Directors critical friend feels inappropriate. Maybe within the dynamic of Stan’s Cafe Amanda Hadingue has probably taken a similar position within the devising team and in other circumstance Craig Stephens has been that alternative questioning, prompting voice and council.
James Yarker 9/2/7
Dramaturg's Response
These are my thoughts after the session.
Connor’s should definitely be one voice, one character. Each story he tells brings the missing characters we never actually see to life. Brings the docking area to life. Brings the pub to life by what action is taking place in each room coming off the docking area only when our man is smoking. But his sympathies and annoyances about the others in his story and their actions reveal his character and what he can’t see about himself.
Anthony’s main character should be never really interested in the crime. Never really useful as a hero. Always more interested in his appearance – his fatal flaw. It will be taken away from him – his looks destroyed. Who is he then? His learning curve. The script’s strength is its originality. Its weakness is its structure.
Luke’s great strength is its structure. Its weakness is its lack of originality. It is great to learn from the old masters. To recreate an old master. Well done. I learnt my craft like that. I deconstructed death of a Salesman for months. But all great artists have a spin of their own. Some truth only they know – they can access. Imbue it with this.
I talked about being suspicious about the person giving feedback. Read the person’s uniform and therefore why they have said that. I’m gonna use me as an example. I was hard on Luke because I’m working class therefore prejudice against people I perceive to have a silver spoon. I may have been lenient on Anthony because he’s pretty and I’m female. I may have showed Connor favour because he arrived late and therefore is a mystery, and someone that I have to make love me quick: only so much time left. Also he is Irish like my mum and I am prejudice in their favour because of Beckett and O’Neill and all the other great Irish storytellers even my mum. Of course there are a million more detailed reasons. From this start you can probably work them out.
I am sending you all the same sheet because we were all there and you can use this and the feedback I have given others to test your own skill of observation against that day and use it as a marker for are you right or wrong in the future. A starting point to build on.
Always refer back to your original draft. That is driven by instinct. The basic structure and idea will be there. Your other drafts are looking for layers to make it 3 dimensional and help you lose superfluous story. But again be suspicious – it is my last experience.
A direct quote from NWP:
There’s no particular kind of play we’re after, we’re simply looking for the basics of rounded characterisation; lively dialogue; engaging story; compelling theme; and a sense of theatre. Plus ideally a distinctive voice and originality in material and treatment. Me again. Look at each phrase and enquire internally and externally what it means.
Linda Brogan
Connor’s should definitely be one voice, one character. Each story he tells brings the missing characters we never actually see to life. Brings the docking area to life. Brings the pub to life by what action is taking place in each room coming off the docking area only when our man is smoking. But his sympathies and annoyances about the others in his story and their actions reveal his character and what he can’t see about himself.
Anthony’s main character should be never really interested in the crime. Never really useful as a hero. Always more interested in his appearance – his fatal flaw. It will be taken away from him – his looks destroyed. Who is he then? His learning curve. The script’s strength is its originality. Its weakness is its structure.
Luke’s great strength is its structure. Its weakness is its lack of originality. It is great to learn from the old masters. To recreate an old master. Well done. I learnt my craft like that. I deconstructed death of a Salesman for months. But all great artists have a spin of their own. Some truth only they know – they can access. Imbue it with this.
I talked about being suspicious about the person giving feedback. Read the person’s uniform and therefore why they have said that. I’m gonna use me as an example. I was hard on Luke because I’m working class therefore prejudice against people I perceive to have a silver spoon. I may have been lenient on Anthony because he’s pretty and I’m female. I may have showed Connor favour because he arrived late and therefore is a mystery, and someone that I have to make love me quick: only so much time left. Also he is Irish like my mum and I am prejudice in their favour because of Beckett and O’Neill and all the other great Irish storytellers even my mum. Of course there are a million more detailed reasons. From this start you can probably work them out.
I am sending you all the same sheet because we were all there and you can use this and the feedback I have given others to test your own skill of observation against that day and use it as a marker for are you right or wrong in the future. A starting point to build on.
Always refer back to your original draft. That is driven by instinct. The basic structure and idea will be there. Your other drafts are looking for layers to make it 3 dimensional and help you lose superfluous story. But again be suspicious – it is my last experience.
A direct quote from NWP:
There’s no particular kind of play we’re after, we’re simply looking for the basics of rounded characterisation; lively dialogue; engaging story; compelling theme; and a sense of theatre. Plus ideally a distinctive voice and originality in material and treatment. Me again. Look at each phrase and enquire internally and externally what it means.
Linda Brogan
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