2010

Okay, so, last year I started this blog as a New Year's Resolution to write more. It worked for a while, but petered out with summer and this fall semester. It seems silly to reinstate that resolution officially (unofficially I have said it in my head) so I won't. Instead, I will write today, even though it is not Sunday!, and talk about a few things I realized this last week.

The end of last semester was rough. I had a really bad review with my faculty when I was expecting good things to come out of it. I have been thinking about it, mulling over some of the things they said, and one thing occurred to me about the accusation that I've got a bad case of senioritis. Last academic year I was on fire. My personal life fell apart but I used all of that to fuel my hard work and creativity for the year. I was on top of everything and went into the summer of work at UNCG not thinking much of the emotional and physical toll that I would have to pay for not really taking time to deal with what had happened with my ex and my family. This last semester I had a reprieve from lots of work because I only had two classes I had to take for the rest of my degree (my Master Production class and an Academic class). I chose to split those two up and take the Costume Seminar I was expected to take and do an Independent Study to keep me drawing. However, my energy and drive began to peter out. Some of it was senioritis, for sure, and I know that is what the faculty and staff at UNCG felt my lax work ethic stemmed from. But, in hindsight, I believe a part of it had to do with just not having the energy anymore. I used up so much on making last year awesome despite everything that I had no reserves to tap into when things got rough. I also know that working at UNCG this summer meant I had no recharge time (financially or emotionally) from an incredibly emotionally charged environment.

The sad truth is though I've come to realize that my senioritis doesn't just stem from being a a third year student who is ready to just be done, I'm not sure how much I'm going to improve over this last semester. This is not to say I'm not going to be on top of stuff, but like letting go of my extreme desire to be perfect and get a 4.0 when I got to Grinnell, it's nice to not feel like my nerves are on edge all the time because I must, need, have to get stuff done. No one else around me has ever really been as dedicated to turning stuff in on time and awesome. It's nice to allow myself to be human and make mistakes right now, because the sad truth is that if/when I get a job, I'm going to have to go back to being on edge because it will be a constant worry about whether or not I am going to keep said job.

But, for 2011, I am going to strive to strike a balance between work and personal time. I need to, for the sake of the two directors that I'm still designing for and the professor from whom I'm taking my last class, give it my all. Here's to hoping I can rekindle a bit of the former glory but not give myself ulcers at the same time.

Wrapping Up Work

Okay, so I have 2 costume plates left to draw then I can paint them and be done with the surprise 13 plates I set out to work on last Monday and that are due tomorrow at 9am. And what am I doing? Yep, procrastinating!

I think that the end of the fall semester is the worst. Or at least right now it seems like the worst. Part of that has to do with wanting to do the whole holiday thing (and today Target was a lunatic asylum and I was just there to buy paper towels!) but also because we're working towards next semester shows as well. On top of this costume project I'm completing for Kushner's adaptation of The Illusion, I've also got to get Pericles designed and drafted before we leave for break. :( It has been rough.

But my work for The Illusion is exciting. See this fun plate below (my apologies for it's weird scan... the book is too big for the scanner bed):



The show provides for so much more than just a simple design because it has three plays within it. So each of the plays are in their own time period and color. And I've added elements of commedia in order to inform some of my choices. I've really enjoyed putting on my costumer hat again. Hopefully this will bode well for Orpheus Descending, the last show of UNCG's season for which I will be costume designer.

Meanwhile, I'm still on the hunt for a job. :( I was kind of seriously considering another masters program (a 2 year one in another field) but, really, that would have just been hiding out from real life again. I am ready to have a job and make more than $1000 a month (for 8 months). I am ready to be able to afford holiday gifts and all that. Yep, I'm ready to be an adult for real.

But I guess I should pass my costume seminar first...

Generosity

Another installation of my thoughts on Twyla Tharp's book The Creative Habit. I've designated a journal I had laying about to write thoughts and notes in as I read the rest of the book, each page full of things that could jump-start a conversation or a blog post. However, at the end of her chapter entitled "Accidents Will Happen" she discusses the importance of generosity.

In the chapter itself she discusses the idea that luck is not so magical and fleeting as many would have you believe, but instead is a skill born of preparation and dedication to your project, and the willingness to and ability to notice when to take an opportunity when it presents itself.

"You have to allow for the suddenly altered landscape, the change in plan, the accidental spark--and you have to see it as stroke of luck rather than a disturbance of your perfect scheme" (120).

I could speak specifically about her call for planning and preparation that does not hem in the creative process, but instead let me go back to the activity that follows this chapter about being generous because it speaks to more than this creative habit she writes on.

"Generosity is luck going in the opposite direction, away from you. If you're generous to someone, if you do something to help him out, you are in effect making him lucky." (136)

Tharp's discussion of luck really being the skill to recognize opportunity is great. But this call to, essentially, create good karma in order to generate luck as well is the most fascinating. The highly collaborative nature of theatre is like a microcosm of the world at large. No one exists in a vacuum and people's happiness and goodwill is dependent on the happiness and goodwill that is given them from those around them. In theatre, the free exchange of ideas is an act of generosity. No one artist claims importance in the process by insisting that they are the mastermind of the artistic product of the team. There is no expectation that if the lighting designer makes a suggestion that turns into the solution that gels the entire design together that the rest of the team owes it to them. And so collaboration becomes an exercise in being completely selfless and generous with your fellow artists.

Tharp goes on to say that generosity is also linked to good teaching:

"... you invest everything you have in your [students]. You have to be so devoted to them and to the finished creation that your [students] become your heroes. It takes courage to be generous like that, to believe that the better the [students] look... the better the scene will play and the more satisfying the work itself will be. Without generosity, you'll always hold something back. The finished work shows it, and your audience knows it." (136-7)

This struck a chord when I first read it and I wrote quickly and furiously in my little notebook about how important this is to educational theatre. (By the way, I replaced "dancers" with "students" in the above quote, just to make it more relevant to my point, rather than Tharp's life as a choreographer.) I believe that the most successful productions at the educational level benefit from teachers and mentors that wholly adopt this idea of generosity as the guide the students towards success. There is no room in educational theatre for a teacher to grandstand, even if they are the designer or director or actor. Even in those instances, being generous with your process and knowledge pays forward to your students' own endeavors and will mean that the world will hand you the opportunity to be the recipient of someone else's generosity.

On an even more simple level, I think about my first day teaching Intro to Stagecrafts this semester. As I stood before the class, basically regurgitating the exact same spiel about the syllabus and handouts as the faculty and staff lecturers had just the section before, a lifelong dream became reality. That's right, ever since Kindergarten I wanted to be a teacher. I saw value and importance in the act of filling young minds with information about the world. Even though college students can be jaded punks at times, this semester has been one affirming day after another that teaching is a part of my future. And though I had always thought it was a bit cheesy, I told them, as I explained how the class would work and where they could get their notes and when I would be available to answer questions if they got lost, I said in earnest, "We want you to succeed. So don't be afraid to ask for help." Truly, though I'm only responsible for laying the foundation of knowledge about lighting instruments and actual measurements of lumber, it's also about inculcating in them a sense of empowerment and responsibility to their art form if they so choose to follow theatre as their path. Sure, it will mean more time answering silly questions or more time preparing extra lectures (about design!), but the gift of knowledge is my act of generosity. I've had some wonderful teachers and I hope to continue to have the opportunity to work with amazing mentors. I hope that this generosity will bring me that luck.

Year 3... And Go!

Okay, dear readers, I have been incredibly lax in updating this blog for a variety of reasons, too numerous to get into and all sounding like a poor excuse for being lazy. But I've got about 20 minutes before I need to start work in the scene shop today and so I'm here, with not much of a plan but the need to keep the promise to myself to write every week.

As the title suggests, year three of my graduate school career is underway. This is the last year in my MFA and I'm incredibly excited. It has been a bit of a stressful few days, getting the six first year MFA designers situated (and hearing about the crazy class schedule debacle) but the dust is starting to settle and I think it's going to be a great year.

Oklahoma! is off to a fast-paced start (we hit tech in 4.5 weeks!) and The Waiting Room is getting going as well. But not just the shows, I have, miraculously, only ended up with one structured class and an independent study of my own devising. It's like a year made-to-order. And you know what that means...

In 9 months, the real world awaits. Yesterday, at a gathering of returning and new graduate students, the question of what comes next, of course, came up. I feel like I answer this question at least once a day. But the bottom line is that the answer remains the same (and, predictably, vague): I'm going where the job is. The idea of going to New York never appealed to me and there are only to cities I would move to just to move and figure something out (Chicago and Seattle), but in this economy and with my temperament, I'm not one to just hope that I land on my feet by heading to some burgeoning theatre community. So right now, I don't have an answer, but I am looking forward to the adventure that not knowing provides. And, really, I don't expect I'll have much an answer until sometime next spring. Life has a funny way of working out but it often takes a while before things become clear. So until then, I'm going to go paint some more clouds and start working on No Exit, just because.

Oklahoma! ... continued

Well, Thursday was the big design presentation, so the model got done. I knew going into it that things were going to change, so not so much with the final. I've already had a meeting with the director about new ideas that he's excited about, so I'm working towards some overhauls for the model for this Wednesday. But in the meantime I thought I'd share pictures of where I landed, with commentary of course.

This is the show drop (position is changing) and it will not just be white (ha ha).

Laurie's House. Not much has or will change with what you're seeing here.

Judd's Cabin. There are some adjustments being made to this, in part because I don't really have all of the info about Aycock, but it's not going to change much from this.

The grove in the ballet. Nothing changing at the top with the romantic scene while all is well and good.

The Dance Hall/Nightmare. We spent a lot of time talking about this moment in the meeting. On my end, I think I've come up with a way to shift even further out of "Oklahoma" with some Mackintosh School of Art Nouveau motifs and changing the location of those light fixtures. Expect to see more about this later.

Skidmore Ranch. This is the part that is changing most drastically. And this part of the model sucks. But whatever. Ultimately, the platform is going away and we'll be creating a ring for dancing with hay bales and what not (lights are staying the same). I didn't consider this idea before because of In-One scene issues, but we resolved that during the meeting and now Act II is SOOOOOOO much better.

Skidmore Ranch backporch. Also changing, now that there is no platform and the in-one scene has changed. And Prior (who is my little dude there) is falling over. :P

Laurie's House. Then back to Laurie's house. Some cool choreography/staging ideas have come from the director on this, but mums the word in case magic cannot happen.

So yes, changes are in the air (which means another update about this is likely next weekend). Have I mentioned that this is my thesis work? So documenting it via my blog helps keep things fresh for when I have to write my paper or whatever.

Fin: 2 Years Down, 1 to Go

So, I am finally done with year two of my three year MFA as of about 10:30 am this morning, which is why I didn't post last Sunday, as usual. The end of the year has given me a number of things to muse over, but one specifically is the review and portfolio process.

Here at UNCG, the graduate designers attend a 30 minute review at the end of each semester. Until this last one, we generally just brought show and sketchbooks to demonstrate the completed work in and outside the classroom. Due to my own interests in catching up on my physical portfolio and the two graduating designers having (mostly) completed their portfolios for work, this year we just brought portfolios. I must say that I prefer the portfolio review rather than show books, etc.

While the portfolio review forces me to keep my work current in the book (rather than waiting 3 years to update it) and keeps me from having to lug around stacks of 3-inch binders, it is more helpful to look at the distilled work overall. I also feel that the professors can better respond to the work in a final portfolio presentation and see how we, as young designers, are going to present ourselves to the world at large in job applications. At my undergrad we did a portfolio review that was set up a lot like the tables at U/RTAs (or so I've been told) so that, though we included things like show books and full-size drafting, it was set up in a way to depict the life of our work. I believe portfolios are a better indication of the growth of a student/designer and force us to really choose wisely what we include in the portfolio.

I also feel that the portfolio allows for more discussion to occur about the things that happen outside of the design classroom. Though it did not happen in my review specifically, I felt that knowing that only my portfolio-quality work would be on the table, the opportunity to ask about the other work I had completed this semester would present itself. Unfortunately, reviews are not really conducive to bringing in a binder full of writings and plays from an academic class, but being succinct with the visual representation of ones design work allows time for conversations about the non-visual work. (Again, that didn't really happen in my review, but such is the nature of conversation.)

And now that the portfolio is updated about 90% from where it was 3 years ago when I started thinking about graduate school, and my exams are all done, I am excited in looking forward to my final year. Many people wonder about why an MFA takes three years, but as it is a terminal degree and studio-based discipline, such is life. But I also feel that, if structured smartly, the third year provides for the culmination of all of the in-class work. I am only taking 1 class each semester and the rest of my credit hours are for the designs I am completing for the department. I am excited to be able to truly focus my brain power on doing what I want to do with my life. And if I ended my academic career here at the 2 year mark (because, let's be honest, I could have crammed more credits into the last 2 years) I wouldn't have the amount of designs to show, but also I wouldn't feel like the time had truly come to an end. Academically, I feel solid, so a Masters of Arts (MA) would be fine, but to truly feel like a Master of Fine Arts, now the finer-detail work will begin.