The Juggler Interviews, #13: Bonnie Duncan

Bonnie Duncan and I have known each other more than ten years, and I've long been an admirer of her work as a dancer, actress, and all-around creative person and storyteller.  Her husband, Dan Milstein, directed my play, Pieces of Whitey, for Rough & Tumble way back in 2005 in Boston. Bonnie makes up half of the creative performance duo, They Gotta Be Secret Agents, along with Tim Gallagher. They about to bring their show, Poste Restante, back to the Charlestown Working Theater in Boston, February 20-23, which is very exciting--it's one of the most memorable pieces of theatre I've seen in Boston. In addition to be a busy creative performing artist, Bonnie is also the mother of three (delightful) children under the age of five. So I was glad she was able to find some time (after performing in NYC last weekend) to answer some questions.

Hi, Bonnie.  Thanks for appearing on the blog, in my revival of the Juggler Interviews.  Which seems sort of appropriate given your show, Poste Restante, which has a certain magic theatricality to it (though no juggling). 

Can you explain a little bit about the creative process that you and Tim used to create the show?  You'd worked together extensively before, right?  Do you write down a storyline and images, or are you creating a lot of what happens in rehearsal?

Tim and I performed together for 6 years with Snappy Dance Theater (a collaborative dance company based in Boston from 1998-2007) and we naturally gravitated towards each other when developing new work.  Physically, our bodies worked well together and creatively, our minds melded well.  We toured a lot with Snappy so Tim and I became travel friends--we rented a tiny car and sped around the south of France and Italy.  It was amazing!  Once Snappy closed its doors in 2007, we decided we still wanted to work together and started to make new work, not knowing where it would lead us.  Three years, one baby, and a move to Philadelphia later, we finished Poste Restante.

But, let me back up a bit about our process...we usually start a piece with an image or a theme or idea.  We approach the work as dancers first, playing around with movement in rehearsal--videotaping & writing things down, and then we turn to our theatrical sides to shape the phrases and images.  For example, the first piece we made for Poste Restante, "Return to Sender," started out as a very slow, dark love story until one day we met for rehearsal at the Southeast Corridor park by Stony Brook T stop (free rehearsal space!) and Tim was carrying a box.  He simply said, "I want to figure out how to get you in this box."  The piece came together in about 45 minutes because it just clicked with the movement we had.  Here's a video clip of one of our first performances (filmed at HONK! with Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band):

When we decided to make a full-length piece, we explored many themes until we hit upon the Dead Letter Office, an office operated by the US Postal Service to deal with undeliverable mail.  We were so intrigued with what could be held at this office that we focused our work mail from then on.  Each section was developed differently:  there are some stop-motion films that Tim shot in Philadelphia and posted to flickr.  I then edited the film from Boston.  Another section was inspired by a desk lamp in my office; another section was inspired by Tim's design of a hat with shadow screens hanging on it.  Because we took our time developing the show and we did not see each other regularly, we were able to explore a lot of things and find exactly the right theatrical touch for each moment of the piece.  

If anyone out there is interested more in how we make our work, join us for our workshop this Saturday, 2-4 pm @ Charlestown Working Theater---Mission: Demystifying the Creation of Physical Theatre.

So, you guys started They Gotta Be Secret Agents before you had kids, right?  Where does this show fit in the timeline of  you becoming a mother, with the arrival of your first son, and then later with your twins?

Yes, we started the Secret Agents before I had kids.  Tim lived down the street from me at the time.  We made about 20 minutes of the show (9 of which we kept!) and then I got pregnant and Tim moved to Philadelphia.  Needless to say, we took about 13 months off and just mailed each other ideas.  We then met on the weekends in Philly or Boston (working on sections solo in-between rehearsals) until we had our first version of Poste Restante.  My son was 8 months old when we performed at the San Francisco Fringe Festival.  Making the show with a baby was super simple (I can say that now, of course!) because he was not very mobile and slept a lot.  Once he could crawl, my work time was crushed and the grandparents were called upon to help out.  A lot.   We then reworked the show and toured it to Europe the following year, taking my son with us.  It was such an adventure.  People's response to the show was so amazing during that tour--we were invited to perform at festivals all over--but our lives got in the way of pursuing those opportunities immediately:  Tim got accepted to medical school at NYU and I found out I was having twins.  These changes were shocking for both of us.  

But, Tim and I still corresponded a lot and we started a shared Pinterest board that we keep:  http://www.pinterest.com/mizboo/the-future-of-the-secret-agents/ 

When the twins were six months old, we were invited to perform out in Austin, TX so we packed everyone up (plus a grandparent!) and headed out.  We both missed the show terribly so it was a joy to be back on the road together.  The tour wasn't our usual because Tim was studying between shows and I was cooing at the babies---it was surreal for us!

How has being a mother affected your creative process? Time and energy can be at a real premium when you have small kids around  How are you managing to juggle, not just creating a show, but also performing and touring?

Pat, I have to say that you have been a role model of how I want to juggle creating work and being a parent!  Naps and early bedtimes are the short answers to how to how I've made it work.  The longer answer involves erasing how I used to work and redefining my process.  Because I have such regimented time periods these days, I feel like I work to focus my attention within a short block of time as best as I can.  I struggle with it because sometimes I just have to goof off in order to get to the good ideas.  I often feel most days like everything is half-finished.

I made Squirrel Stole My Underpants with only six hours of childcare a week.  My husband (Dan Milstein, director of Rough & Tumble Theatre) and I rehearsed late into the night in our dining room and I would spend weekends building set pieces.  There would be weeks when the kids were sick when we got nothing accomplished.  It was one of the hardest artistic processes I've ever had because just when I would get momentum, someone would get a fever or a babysitter would cancel.  

Once Squirrel was finished, I've been able to schedule performances around family obligations.  One goal for me in touring this show is to go on family adventures.  This past summer my oldest son toured with me to Long Island--he sold popcorn and watched the show each day.  He had his first hotel stay!  For other tours and performances, I've gone alone (woot!) and Dan has held down the house.  Those are all of the good parts of touring with small children.  The hard and exhausting parts are arranging travel plans.  We performed in New York City this past weekend and it was as total nightmare of logistics.  Between the snow storm Thursday, grandparents' travel plans, our need of getting our set back to Boston, a car breaking down, and three babysitters/friends helping out, it felt like a Secret Mission gone awry.  But, we don't make theater to be boring so it's the adventures along the way that make it all worth while.  

Do you use your kids as a captive audience, now that you've been working on shows for younger kids, like Squirrel Stole My Underpants? 

I definitely test material and aesthetics on my kids right now.  I have to admit that I've used rehearsal as a bribe incentive---"if you can get ready for bed then you can see a new scene" sort of thing.  The kids are coming to see Poste Restante for our Sunday matinee with a babysitter.  Dan runs our lights and I'm on stage so what could possibly go wrong?!!  :)

One of the great things about your work, in Poste Restante as well as in your other shows, is the inclusion of theatrical transformations, shifting the embodiment of a character from a real-live human to a puppet or some other object.  For kids, this sort of imaginative fluidity comes naturally. Is this something you've always been interested in seeing on stage?

I've always loved breaking up stage reality so that the audience has to work a bit.  Snappy worked with transformations a lot---moving between theater and dance.  I love performing Poste Restante because our stage magic surprises and delights adult audiences.  We take care of them so that people don't have to worry where they are in the narrative while we play with how we tell the story.

You've toured Poste Restante internationally--any good stories or moments from those shows you can share?  What happened to allow you to bring the show back now?  (I'm glad folks in Boston will have another chance to see it.)

When went through customs in the Czech Republic, we had to explain what was in all of the boxes we carried with us.  We tried to pantomime that we had cardboard and paper in our cardboard boxes.  We pantomimed dancing.  We smiled a lot.  The customs officials were perplexed.  Then, I found one of our show postcards and they nodded their heads, "Ahh, ac-TORS," and we were on our way.

In Prague, we performed in a basement theatre.  And, basement in Prague equals an arched stone tunnel that used to be part of holding cell for prisoners of Prague Castle.  We had the stage measurements but when we got there, things were a lot smaller than we expected.  We barely fit on the stage and had 10 minutes to set up and break down--it felt crazy but when we finished the first performance, the crowd exploded with excitement.  It was the moment when we knew we had something very special.  Here's a video of our walk to the theatre each day:

Tim cooked up this tour after he found out he had the month of February off of medical school.  It has been a joy performing the show again and sharing it with new audiences.  The folks at Charlestown Working Theater are wonderful.  They've supported us for years and it means a lot to be part of their community of artists and audiences.  This is probably our last performances of the show in Boston so it's especially wonderful to be there.

What's up next?

Tim starts his residency in Emergency Medicine in June so we'll continue to mail each other ideas.  We'll slowly work on a new show, probably finishing in 4-5 years.  Meanwhile, I'm keeping busy with a new show I am developing for families that will premiere next January at Puppet Showplace Theatre.

Thanks for the taking the time, Bonnie.  And break a leg this week in Boston!

Thanks for having me, Pat!  And, if readers buy tickets for Thursday's show, they can mention the code "secret" (be sure to use lowercase letters) and get half-price tickets.


Poste Restante in Boston, FEB 20-23 from Bonnie Duncan on Vimeo.

Tim and Bonnie.  Photo by Kathy Moloney

The Juggler Interviews, #6: John Shea

I've known John Shea for a while--he's a fellow Huntington Playwriting Fellow, as well as a fellow stay-at-home dad for this three kids.  John is a lifelong resident of Somerville, MA, and writes about his hometown (and elsewhere) with a clear, distinct voice. 

 

Hi John, thanks for taking the time to talk. It’s always a pleasure to talk to with another writer who is also a stay-at-home dad. How old are your kids now?

My son Jack is now 13, my twins Vivien and Cole are 10.

When do you find time to write? It gets easier when they’re in school. How did you manage when they were little?

I am a night person.  I write from about 10 p.m. until about 2 a.m., sometimes 3:00 a.m.  I’ve always been a night guy and luckily, because I waited tables for many years and worked nights, I have rarely done morning duty.  Incidentally, my family doesn’t want me up early because I am grumpy in the morning, which is understandable seeing that I may have gone to bed only four hours before the start of school.  That being said, I can write anytime.  Noise does not bother me and I have written with 4, 5, 6 kids running around screaming, music playing.  I drown it out… the only problem is if someone addresses me directly, then the concentration is broken, but otherwise, noise does not affect my work habits.  I suppose that’s because I was brought up in a house of seven children, all of us a year or a year and a half apart and when we each had a friend over, that meant the possibility of 14 kids in the house, (which did happen).  It was a pretty noisy environment to grow up in and I learned to concentrate in chaos. 

You went to the O’Neill in 2004. I’ve never been, but often wondered how I’d manage the month away from home with the kids and all. How did you handle it? Do you find it’s harder to apply for the various residencies and fellowships that are out there since you have kids? The business we’re in is pretty tough to navigate, but navigating it with kids can make it a lot trickier.

When I went to the O’Neill, my twins were 3 and Jack was 5.  My wife Debbie took some vacation time and we relied on a wide and very strong network of friends and family.  One of the benefits of still living where I grew up is the support system I have in place.  Also, Debbie took the kids down to see me on some Saturdays.  We had Sundays off at the O’Neill so I could take the train home if I wanted to.  I also spent two weeks in DC at the Kennedy Center’s Intensive Summer Workshop with Gary Garrison… for that we again used the same network of friends and family… and Debbie took some vacation time.  I don’t worry about applying for distant fellowships and residencies… believe me we will make it work, so make me an offer! 

You’ve really been experimenting lately with self-production, putting together readings of your own work, and finding other ways to engage the community in which you live. Can you talk a little bit about what you’ve been up to in Somerville.

Oooh- self production.  I am so glad I decided to produce one of my plays because it taught me that… I WILL NEVER DO IT AGAIN.  I produced a reading of my play, “WELCOME TO SOMERVILLE, Permit Parking Only,” and had a great time.  Two nights, a cast of 17 family and friends, people from the local community… it was great.  Then I tackled a fully staged production of, “The Painter.”  It was a nightmare, not because of anyone associated with it, but because of me.  I felt stressed (and I work very hard and drink a lot of Manhattans to keep stress out of my life).  I was anxious and constantly thinking about money, which otherwise I have no problem spending, especially on Italian leather shoes and good sports jackets, but that’s another interview.  While producing “The Painter,” I was short and abrupt with the kids.  Nobody was happy then.  But, I felt it was important to try and keep my work in Somerville, since this is where most of it is based, where I was born, raised and still live… and no, I’ve never lived outside the borders of Somerville and hopefully never will.  Why leave the place people are clamoring to get into? 

Sean A Cote in the Argos Production of Junkie, dir. by Brett Marks

 

There are a couple writers who I look to in our community for a strong local voice, and you’re definitely one of them. One of the challenges in writing work that’s so close to home is finding a way to be honest about what you see in the community around you, while still living there.  Sometimes people find it hard to be examined in that way. How do you keep from holding back? How have people responded? How do you see your role as a writer who is writing about his own community, both now and about the past history of that community?

First of all I don’t hold back.  I write what I see, from my point of view and to hell with what people have to say, including my extended family who haven’t always liked being “exposed,” but too bad, it was my life too.   

Anyway, when I wrote, “WELCOME TO SOMERVILLE…” there was a lot of vitriol directed at me and some of it was downright frightening.  I was threatened and accused of possibly molesting kids who come to my house, I was called a drunk, it was said that I berate my wife and children, spend all my money on drugs and prostitutes (I wish I was so wealthy…).  Unfortunately, it was all done anonymously online through public blogs.  The cowards didn’t dare say these things to my face because I wouldn’t have stood for it.  I have no problem standing up for myself or my family when someone fucks with me.  People who have experienced my temper have never crossed me again.  The issue with that play is that I was writing about a Somerville politician accused of molesting teenaged boys.  Someone didn’t like that (hmmmm, now who could that have been?)  But fuck ‘em that was the story I wanted to tell.   Too bad, I’m writing about my community and take it or leave it, I’m going to continue to write what I see, saw, experienced as a child and witness as an adult.  For the people who grew up here who say I’m portraying Somerville in a negative light, get over it.  There is still a huge drug problem and poverty in Somerville.  They don’t like it, too fuckin’ bad, then they should do something about it.  I feel I’m doing something about it by shedding light on it.  Maybe that’s not enough, but it’s something.  And for those suburbanites pouring into the city who never venture beyond Davis Square and claim that the Somerville I write about doesn’t exist anymore… wake up.  Somerville still has a very large immigrant and blue collar population, which was here long before they showed up.  These attacks on me and my writing are bullshit, and nobody ever has or ever will tell me what to write, how to live or anything else.  

When I produced, “The Painter,” I was called a racist and told that my ideas were stuck in some 1950’s KKK era.  These same enlightened few saw the play as disgusting and a shame.  But it didn’t stop me.  I’ve always done exactly as I wanted and always will (and luckily have a wife who somehow puts up with me…).  We live in a very diverse, constantly changing city here in Somerville and I think I capture that in my writing.  No, it’s not Lexington or Concord and I say, thank God for that.  Then of course, there are those who love my work, who look for signs of familiarity in characters, try to guess where a particular event in the play takes place (and some have correctly guessed just who or what a situation is based on).  I write about a community I have been part of my entire life and I think I do a pretty damned good job of it and make no apologies, so if you disagree or don’t like it… I have one word for you- screw.   

     

As your kids get older, your experience of the world shifts. Where a writer used to see the world from a child’s perspective, even that of a grown child, being a parent brings into focus a different way of looking at the world. We see our parents in a different light, from the perspective of a peer. We’ve now been through some of what they’ve been through. Do you find this showing up in your writing about families? Are you able to write about parenthood yet? 

I don’t write about parenthood in the way people expect.  I write a lot about the bad choices characters make as parents that will affect their children for the rest of that child’s life.  I often use drug addicted and alcoholic parents and people to portray just how dangerous these cycles are.  These behaviors and ways of thinking are passed on from generation to generation (some of the characters in “The Hill,” are the parents of the some characters in “Erin Go Bragh-less” and though there is a 30 year difference in the settings of those plays, many of the same domestic problems and beliefs from “The Hill,” have carried over until finally one of the characters in “Erin…” decides to break the cycle).  I grew up in a neighborhood riddled with heroin addiction and domestic violence.  I use that experience in my writing to try to change it.  When people see my plays, even the people still guilty of these behaviors, they see it from a different perspective and recognize that these behaviors and attitudes are wrong and just maybe they will take that perspective home and think twice before shooting up or lashing out against their children.  

Most of my plays deal with families and the interconnectedness of tight knit neighborhoods, an interconnectedness that can become dangerous (characters from one play may be discussed in another play and story lines somewhat cross between many of the works, since these are people who know their communities very well).  My children are shielded, protected from these behaviors and often ask when they can see my plays…”Not until you’re 17,” I tell them.  Not only do my children not see my plays, they will not know the “other” Somerville I write about, the Somerville of drugs and violence. God help anyone who tries to drag them into it, they will have to deal with me.

Jared Wright in The Painter, dir. by Robert Lublin, JaViviCo Productions

You and I have both been stay-at-home dads.  Do you find, as I do, that dads in popular culture, including theatre, are still generally portrayed as domestic idiots.  We're not expected to be competent at changing diapers, doing laundry, ferrying kids around, handling checkups, school meetings, etc.?  Maybe not enough of us stay-at-home dads are writing characters that reflect our own experiences of parenthood yet.

I detest the portrayal of men in pop culture, the stay at home dads who can't cook, who don't know how to operate a vacuum cleaner or sort laundry and who never seem to know where the paper towels are kept.  But the bumbling and fumbling of "Mr. Mom," makes for easy comedy.  I think it still speaks to gender stereotypes.  Women in the workplace are still portrayed as trying to run a board meeting while dealing with ripped nylons and child care issues, constantly on the phone with a nanny or oh my god- the incompetent stay at home dad... Both portrayals are incorrect but it's what people expect and if you give the public the unexpected and try to change their views, they turn on you and won't come to the play watch the movie or TV show.  We have to remember, art is business and going against the grain is dangerous... That's why so many plays today feel like sit-coms and television movies, people are afraid to takes risks.  There's money in safety.

   

What’s next for you?

I recently finished my first collaboration with my friend Maureen Cornell.  A restaurant comedy called  “Lifers.”  We had a very good first reading and are now rewriting.  And it’s a real comedy, every time I wanted to get dark or bring questionable behaviors in she would pull me back, “It’s a comedy,” she would say, “we’re not going there.”  Thank you, Maureen.   I have also started another play called, “DRUNK- the measure of a man.”  And no, I don’t care that it sounds very similar to my play, “Junkie,” they are very different works.  “Junkie” is a one man show about climbing out of the hell of addiction.  “DRUNK- the measure of a man,” is about the relationship between four men in their mid-forties, their families, marriages, children, occupations and their dependence on alcohol and how that affects each one differently and to varying degrees.  After writing a comedy I needed a little drama.  After writing this, I need a drink.  Cheers.

Thanks, John!

You can learn more about John's work at his web site, playsbyshea.com.

Next Wednesday, I'll talk with Kirsten Greenidge about balancing motherhood with a writing career that's lately brought her productions at La Jolla, Yale Rep, Playwrights Horizons, and the Huntington.