This post will let you in on a terrifying secret:
Playwrights may be in charge of their original text, but, whether they like it or not, they’re NOT in charge of their punctuation.
What, you say? How can a playwright write sentences declarative and interrogative and NOT be in charge of their punctuation?
Because stage directions are punctuation, telling, in effect, whether text will produce declarative action or questioning action.
And you know what? Playwrights have to trust their directors.
I trust my director. I don’t have one yet for this (at least that I know of, though my amazing partner Lydia may know something I don’t), but whoever it will be, I trust him or her NOW, before I even know who he or she will be.
My director is going to punctuate my text with stage direction. I write very little stage direction in, and, as a result, the play is a collaboration between the director and me when it comes to the non-musical stuff on the stage.
Sure, I may provide some direction here or there, but no more than the minimal. And even that may be cast aside. Quite right, too.
The stage is this multi-dimensional universe, and the text is only one piece of that creative architecture. Nobody better mess with my text, but I can’t mess with the physical space. That belongs to the director.
Why would I tell a homeowner what furniture to bring into their space?
Same with playwrights, letting directors fill up that physical space.
Last time, I challenged you to accept “silence” in order to be fully present with the challenging but ultimately rewarding reality of One Way In.
Well, I’m challenging myself once again to trust the director and accept his or her punctuation.
NEXT TIME: REALITY
Lars lost his battle with