Women Writing and Directing in the USA

A Stage of Our Own

Kiara Pipino

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781000044478
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Theatre

Women Writing and Directing in the USA: A Stage of Our Own features interviews with some of the most successful theatre artists currently working on and off Broadway and beyond.

The book provides an insight on what it means and what it takes to be a successful female-identifying playwright and director in the USA, where the professional theatrical landscape is still mostly dominated by straight white men. The interviews explore a wide range of themes, including if and how the artists' female perspective influenced their art, the social and cultural significance of their work, and how theatre and women working in theatre can participate in awakening greater social awareness. Readers will learn about some of the most current and relevant American theatre artists, such as Young Jean Lee, Pam MacKinnon, Dominique Morisseau, Rachel Chavkin, and Martyna Majok.

Written for students in directing and playwriting courses, Women Writing and Directing in the USA: A Stage of Our Own features inspirational and informative stories that will help young theatre artists find and pursue their artistic voices.

PART I

Playwrights

1

JACLYN BACKHAUS

Credit: Marcus Middleton

Jaclyn Backhaus is an American playwright of Punjabi and German descent, the cofounder of Fresh Ground Pepper, and a 2018 member of The Kilroys. Since the beginning of her career in the theatre, she has been interested in pushing the envelope when it comes to women’s representation, inclusion, and gender parity.

Backhaus grew up in Phoenix but is currently based in New York City, where her work has been produced by several venues, including Manhattan Theatre Club, Playwrights Horizons, and Clubbed Thumb. She has been one of the playwrights in residence at the Lincoln Center, and she is the recipient of the 2018 Horton Foote Prize for Promising New American Play for her play, India Pale Ale.

Backhaus’ plays introduce the audience to a diverse world and speak mostly of and for women. For example, in India Pale Ale, the characters—immigrants and first-generation Americans—struggle with their identity, their traditions, their past, and their position in their new home country. In Men on Boats, the audience is presented with the story of Powell’s expedition on the Colorado River in 1869, based on John Wesley Powell’s own journals. Yet, the “men” on the boats are all played by women, as Backhaus explains: “It’s interesting to take that idea of male conquest and give it to someone who usually doesn’t have that right.” Another one of her works, the musical Folk Wandering, which she conceived with Andrew Neisler of Fresh Ground Pepper and was produced by Pipeline Theatre Company, is about three women in different times—1911, 1933, and 1955—and how they grappled with the American Dream.

Backhaus writes characters and stories that draw from her own experience. The protagonist in India Pale Ale, for example, is a young woman who refuses to pursue what her parents had planned for her, in terms of career and even in terms of personal life. Backhaus’ own mother had faced rejection from her community after she married someone who didn’t belong to that community.

Despite the seriousness and relevance of the themes she works into her plays, Backhaus’ style stays fresh and witty. Her plays are truly funny, there is no preaching anywhere, and when you least expect it, pirates make an entrance.

KP: How did The Kilroys come about?

JB: The Kilroys started in 2013. The story goes that a playwright had moved to L.A. and wanted to know other playwrights in the community, so she put out a call to a bunch of different playwrights: “Hey, I moved here. Let’s all get together and talk about theatre.” And so it happened that all the artists that responded to her call were women. And they were all, like: “Oh, how funny. I guess we’re the only people that need to reach out to a community!” Then this conversation slowly shifted, and they came to realize that all of them felt like they were underrepresented, and they were not seen by the community at large. And that their work had always gone under-produced. All of their male counterparts were further along in their careers than they were. And there was a lot of frustration around that. It basically started just because there was a group of people that realized that they all felt similarly disillusioned by the state of the theatrical industry.

Then, at a panel that had happened in Washington D.C., some artistic directors had said that the reason why they didn’t produce women playwrights was because there weren’t any in the pipeline. There [were] no women to be found. So, The Kilroys started as a way to debunk that very problematic theory. They were a group of 13 playwrights. It became some sort of an advocacy group, guerrilla style almost. It’s a collective of people who are working to just showcase and advocate for women, trans, and non-binary playwrights.

The group was never institutionalized, although there might be some changes to that sometime in the future, but The Kilroys has always tried to maintain a sense of fluidity about how it operates, about its membership. Because it’s a totally volunteer organization, there’s kind of an ethos around being able to shine a light on the institutions around us that are actually getting jobs for these writers, that actually hold a candle to being able to fund a writer’s career or development of their work.

It has always been in the interest of the collective to be more of a watchdog and a signal booster and a celebrator, cheering people along on the sidelines and helping to re-steer the conversation, rather than trying to be a gatekeeper in itself. That being said, it could all evolve into something else, perhaps more structured, as we reach more maturity. It’s an interesting moment for The Kilroys; we might get to see changes, and it feels good to be part of that.

KP: You mentioned that it’s a completely independent and volunteer operation. So, how do you balance the amount of work that it requires with your career?

JB: It’s definitely a balancing act. It’s a lot of email chains and meetings, and we’ve always maintained the ethos, because there’s a lot of practitioners who are doing this work alongside me. It’s 14 of us: there are times when someone is in production and needs to step away for some time, times when someone is on [the] set of their TV shows, a lot of us are doing TV…. There is always a time when someone needs to step out and someone else needs to jump in. There’s a rotating relay system of doing the work. I’ve heard this from the founding class of The Kilroys and I am sure it will be the same for me by the end of my time as a member: that I would have devoted enough time to the collective that I could have written a couple of plays. There is also a very good connection between members, and trust. If someone is busy, we trust someone else will take the lead, and then return the favor. This kind of process seems to have worked so far.

KP: You are a new member of The Kilroys—you were nominated in December 2018, along with a few others. There was a sort of changing of the guard. Will this change mark the beginning of a different approach, the tackling of a different agenda?

JB: I think the entirety of the new class of The Kilroys is really still focused on the initial mission of the collective and very respectful of the work of the founding class. They kept it running for over five years, and all of us can see the effect that their work has had on the industry. That’s why I think the core tenets of the collective will remain the same. It always comes back to serving our mission, which is to advocate for women, trans, and non-binary writers.

What is so beautiful about the evolution that we call the changeover is that the original class, the founding members, gave such license to us with such generosity to do whatever we want with it. They gave us their blessing. They gave us a framework on how to do certain things, if we wanted to continue to do them. They gave us a lot of ideas that they never felt like they could see through because they didn’t have the manpower. They left us with a lot of materials to proceed with. And they [are] also very much available on the advisory committee, so, if we need to talk to them about anything, they’re there.

The mission of the collective will stay the same; the programming may shift around depending on whether we feel it’s serving our mission the most.

KP: Does your membership have a term?

JB: No, it doesn’t. December 2018 was when the first changeover happened. I guess we’re just going to have to see what it feels like for this new class, what we will want to do when it comes time to fluidly change the guard again. The five-year mark might remain the pattern, but we might also deviate from it.

KP: Whenever I talk to a female-identifying artist, The Kilroys come up on a regular basis, in terms of the impact the collective has had on the community. How important is that legacy and that responsibility?

JB: I completely agree with that sentiment. It made an impact for all of us. My play Men on Boats was on the second list,¹ and when that happened, I immediately started to hear from a lot of theatres around the country. That had never happened to me before. The impact of the list I think is really clear, for both the artists and the conversation. I feel an immense amount of responsibility in upholding the tenets of the organization and also a responsibility to ensure that we are continuing to inquire about our own practices and just to make sure that we keep expanding the number of people who are able to participate in that conversation. A lot of the work that we’re doing, like in expanding our nominating pool and in advocating for more representation across the board, is going to really make a difference, and I’m excited to see how that continues to shape the conversation.

KP: Do you think that you will come up with other tools to go along with The List? Workshops, readings, maybe?

JB: Yeah. We are working on a few projects that might lead to some new programs, but it’s too early now to make a prediction. We’ll just have to see.

KP: How did you get into theatre?

JB: Well, I started, like, making up my own little plays in my backyard with my brother when I was a kid in Arizona. I think I knew that was performance, but I don’t think I knew that theatre was something that you could engage with other people outside of your backyard. It was in high school when I started doing plays that I had that kind of perception. It was kind of all wrapped up in growing up in Arizona!

KP: How much did education and training play a role in the growth of your artistic persona and overall success?

JB: It played a major role! For my undergrad, I studied theatre at NYU at Tisch, and while I was there, I really learned about the power of collaboration and about theatre as a form of art that actually requires several minds in dialogue at once around an exploration. And so, that immensely helped me grow into the kind of artist I wanted to be, and it helped me kind of define the kind of theatre I wanted to make, which was one that involved very intense and intricate collaboration.

KP: You chose a conservatory program over a liberal arts program. Can you tell us what made you lean in that direction?

JB: I guess it’s a very personal journey for everyone. For me, I knew that I wanted to … I wanted to go to theatre school and I wanted to move to New York pretty immediately. So, I would say it was a great leap of faith to kind of make that decision to apply for theatre school immediately. What I learned in my BFA training was in many ways really specialized toward theatre. I went to an acting school, but I was also taking directing classes and design classes, and some liberal arts, like science and philosophy…. So, it felt like in many ways it was more on the holistic side of the spectrum, as opposed to the exclusively specialized side of the spectrum as far as BFA programs go. But I do think that for me, it was important to make that leap to assure myself that I could be bold in my decision-making about my career trajectory. Also, I have a lot of friends who went through the same program as I did, and are now working in jobs, and have very successful careers that are totally different from theatre. But the theatre training allowed them to learn about what it means to do problem-solving and be creative in the way that they approach their work. So, for me, for everyone I know really, I feel like we learned so much in our program and I’m happy that I went through it.

KP: Did you have a “plan B” if things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to? I know you teach, so is education for you a “plan B,” or is it part of what you actually wanted to do?

JB: It’s kind of both. It’s funny, because I feel I was a little … sort of naïve about the road that it takes. I felt like basically my plan B was to supplement my income while staying in New York City to be able to have a side gig, or be able to continue doing my theatrical practice as more of a hobby. So, the plan B always shifted. But it’s been ever-present. Now, it’s teaching, which I feel like I’ve gained … I have enough experience in making plays that I can guide people through making their plays. So, teaching has become like a really great facet, kind of like a sister component, to my playwriting practice.

But for a long time, the B plan was waiting tables, managing restaurants, working in shops, leading speed dating events…. I had some really weird jobs! I was just talking about that with a couple of theatre friends. So many people do so many different things! And it’s a different journey for everybody. I’ve heard some people say: “If you have a passion for anything else, go do that,” but I also feel like there are ways to find a sustainable balance between the things that you’re passionate about and let them all kind of feed into each other and inform each other. And if your plan B, your “side hustle” as they say, is not something that you actually enjoy doing, then it’s going to be hard for you to dig deeper into your creative work. So, whatever your plan B is, it’s important to make sure that it is something that satisfies you in some way.

KP: You write about women. You write about family, about tradition, about how to move on and create new traditions. What inspires you? Where do you start when you want to write a play?

JB: A lot of my initial inspirations have to do with the untold story idea. I keep a lot of journals of stories I hear, articles I read. Random characters I read in books, fiction or non-fiction, that sort of strike my interest. I think of them as little snacks or morsels that I want to chew on later. Morsels of ideas. And then from there, when I have enough of those “snacks” that seem like they have a lot of potency for me to work with, then I just kind of start writing and let myself discover the story as I go.

Usually, there are a lot of undercurrents and themes in my work that kind of mirror each other and it’s usually more of a reflection of myself at a certain period in my life…. I never go in and go: “I’m going to write a play about this theme,” but at times it does look like in the end they speak to something similar, I guess because they’re all coming from my own person.

KP: How much is the socio-political environment of the contemporary moment influencing you or prompting you to write? And how do you think theatre could make a difference today?

JB: I think about all of the times in my life when I’ve seen plays or seen movies or read books that ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Preface
• PART I: Playwrights
• PART II Directors
• Appendix: Alaine Alldaffer
• Index