These plays were written on Friday March 13, 2020, the day the coronavirus pandemic made all Broadway theaters go dark. Many theatre companies followed their lead in cancelling and postponing shows.
Theatre artists, including myself, lost work. Plays closed with no plan for re-opening, the artists in darkness about their financial ability to recover after all of this has passed.
I'm still reeling with questions.
What can theatre be, as an art form so deeply rooted in gathering, when gathering is deemed dangerous?
Plays I'm in the process of writing and have written all feel dumb right now.
Who are these plays for if they cannot be performed? If they cannot serve people in crisis? Am I the fool for being so attached to real life interactions that transmitting performance via livestream doesn’t sit well with me? If theatre is an artform with which we fight for "hope," why do we feel so powerless in this time when hopelessness reigns? Is there anything we can do that isn’t a simulation of theatre?
I’m not interested in performing right now, because what the fuck can I say or do that’ll help anyone? My true attachment to theatre lies in my belief in people. At its core it’s just people connecting. So here’s what I made in an attempt to answer some of my own unending questions about the point of theatre in times like these.
A gathering of people with intention is theatre.
Whether it's between one, two, or three people, intimate moments of personal theatre are possible everywhere.
In 1964, Yoko Ono released Grapefruit, a collection of her "instruction pieces." Her instructions were impossible because she wanted us to question what we think is possible/impossible.
My instructions are simple, silly, and actionable for people who are at a loss for what to do with themselves. These are plays that encourage starting what is possible that'll lead to the next "possible." These are plays that reexamine simple interactions as moments of intimate theatre.
I'll be posting one a day. Do what you want with these.
These are Plays for A Time of Social Distancing.