Because of the multitude of design elements it encompasses—words, lights, sets, costumes, puppetry—the list is endless—comparisons to playwriting can come easily. For example, it can be like sculpting, where you chip everything out of the text that doesn’t look like a play until you have the finished three-dimensional world. Or it is akin to the layering that painters might do, applying layer upon layer of gesso and glazing to achieve the right atmosphere. Dramaturg Tyler Monroe, who worked with playwright Laura Neubauer on her play, Los Meadows, compared her process to that of a construction company’s, that starts with a hole in the ground—the idea—then continues by first pouring the foundation and building upon that. It’s an interesting and new way to look at the playwriting process.
 
Laura is her own architect. She starts with a blueprint of what will eventually be her play. Looking at her blueprint, it's clear she has a vision for what the play will ultimately become, though there's flexibility and room for interpretation within it.  Reading through the blueprint gave me a great idea for the story she wanted to tell, but the walls or the windows weren’t present, just yet.
 
This playwright pours her own concrete foundation. The first draft of Los Meadows is very much the foundation upon which the rest of the play was built. Like pouring concrete, laying a strong foundation for a play is messy and exacting work, but necessary. The first draft of a play is often the hardest to finish. Much of Laura’s first draft is not visible now in performances, but without this foundation, the rest of the process could not be built upon.
 
Next, Laura assumed the role of framer, carefully building upon her foundation with subsequent drafts.  In between drafts, I would consult with Laura on how her play was being built. I would provide her with observations and talk through the challenges she still saw as the joints were being fitted together and the load-bearing scenes were being driven into the ground. It was during these subsequent framings that the shape of Los Meadows came into view. I began to understand the arc of this family, the structure of this story, and the emotional complexity of each character.
 
Sometimes though, construction doesn't go according to plan, and that's when Laura-as-demolition-crew came in. When a scene wasn't working or a draft missed her initial vision, Laura was never afraid to revise using a bulldozer and wrecking ball, completely breaking down the draft in order to rebuild a play more in line with the vision she set out. This requires an immense amount of flexibility and focus. Many playwrights, myself included, view revising a play like playing Jenga: One small change may cause the entire structure to tumble to the ground. Laura embraces dramatic change. She would often be astonished me with how much changed between drafts of Los Meadows, giving a new version of the play.
 
And finally, with drafts that were crafted after rehearsals started, Laura was the consummate finisher. After the structure was framed and the walls hung, she applied paint, hung lighting fixtures, placed trim, and laid the floors to her play. These were the touches that stand out most to a viewer, and Laura was tireless in crafting memorable details for the Los Meadows audience. Small clarifications or character beats were constantly layered into her play as actors, designers, and the director stepped into the room. All the while, the play began to look more and more like a lived-in building with nuanced details and sharper moments.
 
As a dramaturg, it has been a pleasure watching Los Meadows take shape before my eyes.  The end result is a beautiful building of a play that I hope you will enjoy as the last production of Boston Public Works Theater Company's at the Boston Center for the Arts.
 
Tyler J. Monroe is a dramaturg, playwright, and educator in the Boston community. He obtained his MFA in dramaturgy from the ART/MXAT Institute for Advanced Theatre Training at Harvard University where his adaptation of The Snow Queen appeared on the Loeb Drama Center’s main stage. His adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s work, Tales of Poe, was a part of New Repertory Theatre’s New Rep on Tour series. The Maritime Project, his mash-up of the Grimm Brother’s The Fisherman and His Wife, received a workshop production at the Charlestown Working Theatre, and his original play, Cheating Heaven, was developed through Whistler in the Dark’s Playwright Incubator Program. As a dramaturg, he has assisted with many productions across town including plays at the American Repertory Theatre, Fresh Ink Theatre Company, Company One, and through Boston Public Works Theater Company. During the day, Tyler teaches 7th grade English language arts at the Edward Brooke Charter School before he goes home to be a daddy to Atticus.

For Boston Public Works' final production, playwright Laura Neubauer will be developing a new piece of work while working in collaboration with dramaturg Tyler Monroe. Laura's play, currently with the label, Play #7, will be performed at the Boston Center for the Arts, starting in May 2017. During development, Tyler and Laura will be blogging about the experience. This is the first installment.

During a cookout over Labor Day, I found myself explaining to a friend what I did as a dramaturg.   I spend a substantial amount of time doing this.  

"Well, I perform a variety of functions on a given production, but I identify primarily as a new play dramaturg:  my job is to help support the playwright as they develop their script by providing feedback and inquiry while also making sure their vision is accurately represented on stage during the rehearsal process.  Get it...?"

I must have not been very clear, since my friend sought clarity from my wife around the definition of a dramaturg a few days later. Gotta work on that water cooler explanation... But still, that's the general rule of thumb for me-- development support and playwright advocacy on a new play. That's better.  Maybe I'll use that.

I have provided support on dozens of new plays through my career as a dramaturg.  At this point, not much surprises me. That is, until Laura Neubauer met with me to discuss the possibility of working together on Boston Public Work's final production.  Instead of needing support and feedback, Laura articulated that she wanted more of a thought partner as she developed her play.  Someone to help brainstorm potential plot points and character arcs.  Someone to bounce ideas off of, not react to the ideas she presented.  Someone to actively talk through the play with as it crystalized in her mind.  

And I was sold.

Laura and I met for our first brainstorming session over a recent weekend and spent the morning deep in conversation about her characters.  It felt like, after the session, both of us got to know the five people who populate her play a whole lot better.  We also discussed the major dramatic question she was seeking to answer through her story and generated a litany of potential answers to that question.  It was more of a conversation than a question-answer session.  By the time we concluded our work session, the play felt wide open and full of possibility to me.

It all felt so active, and providing support to a playwright can often feel reactive:  they produce pages, I read and respond; they ask questions, I question back; they demonstrate need, I attempt to meet it.  

Being involved in Play 7 has been a jolt to my senses as a dramaturg.  It is invigorating to be so present in a process as the plot and characters take shape in front of my eyes.  Laura has a sensitivity to the way she crafts human struggles, and I cannot wait for Boston audiences to witness the world she has wrought.

Unsafe is a tender, powerful, engrossing night of theater. After every performance the actors leave the stage emotionally and physically drained. And the same is true for the audience. It's an incredible emotional roller-coaster ride that you'll remember for a long time after.

TRIGGER WARNING: The content may be upsetting for some people.

The more I work with playwright Jim Dalglish on his play, Unsafe, the more my eyes are opened to repercussions 9/11 has made to our lives and how the attack can stand as a metaphor for shattered lives and ways we pick up the pieces. 

The effects, large and small, are everywhere. There is now a memorial to 9/11 tucked off in a corner in the Public Gardens here in Boston. It’s a small reminder, but there it is, tugging you back to reality as you stroll through the Gardens without a care on those gorgeous days when the Hancock Tower rises up and mirrors the blue sky over the city, in the manner that the World Trade Center towered over Manhattan. The shaded, unpretentious spot hijacks your thoughts and whispers, Imagine an airliner crashing into the Hancock or the Pru, right now. What would you do? That’s crazy: It’s a beautiful day; the danger isn’t real: It’s all in your mind. And then, for this Bostonian, at least, it’s a simple leap to remembering the Marathon bombing. No, danger is everywhere—in the sky, in a backpack. Don’t relax. Stay alert.

We now have police routinely wearing full body armor, and ignoring the subliminal message, what overt message does that convey?  What do I fear more?—the police, or the unseen danger I’m being protected from?  And what exactly am I being protected from? I remember a world that was safe. Has it really changed?—because I still don’t see it except on the news, and that’s not really my reality. But for some, it is their reality. The world is unsafe.

There are those who have never known anything else except that they are required to take off their belts and shoes and watches, empty their pockets of cell phones and loose change, and sometimes submit to a full-body pat-down as they go through airport security. That all came out of the Aviation Transportation and Security Act, a response to 9/11. On recent trips to California and Puerto Rico when I was bestowed pre-approved status through security, the experience was exhilarating, like suddenly noticing you can easily breathe after a week-long bout of the flu. It was a throwback to the way air travel used to be before 9/11.

I met José Antonio Rosario in San Juan through our hostess. He is a lively, gregarious individual with eyes the same deep chocolate as were my father’s that look right into yours. He loves everything about life in San Juan—food, culture, architecture, art, people—and he is quick and eager to share it. So how on a intensely sunny street corner in picturesque Old San Juan did he suddenly start talking about his experiences from 9/11 that unfolded right outside his bedroom window? After thousands of dollars of medical expenses, the doctors couldn’t find out why his heart would beat so fast as he lay in bed at night. He moved to San Juan where he now lives, thousands of miles from New York City.

On that September morning, Rosario, a freelance photographer in New York City, had an assignment scheduled later that day, so when his wife, a filmmaker who was already out working, called, he was enjoying that special decadence that people who share tiny apartments crave: He was lounging in bed, alone, having postponed getting up to enjoy his solitude.  She told him a plane had crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center. He only had to roll over to see out his bedroom window, that’s how close he lived to the towers. And in that moment, like so many others, the life he was living changed forever.

The following video is rare dramatic footage of Rosario’s and filmmaker Catalina Santamaria's experience during the attacks and the days after. The video footage is Santamaria’s, and the stills were all taken by Rosario. It is narrated in Spanish, their native language, but you don’t have to speak Spanish to understand; we all know what happened, and the tone and message are clear.

Arianna Gallagher meets the Georgies! The cast and crew of Unsafe had the delightful pleasure of meeting Arianna Gallagher - a lovely, vivacious 12-year-old dynamo. We asked her to come meet the cast because one of the characters in the play - an eight-year-old named Georgie - has Williams Syndrome. The National Williams Syndrome Association put us in touch with Arianna and we were thrilled to introduce her to Alexandra and Natalia Tsourides - the two actresses who will being playing Georgie. We were all thrilled to meet Arianna and Alexandra and Natalia can't wait to get together with her again very soon. Pictured: Natalia, Arianna, and Alexandra.

Playwright Jim Dalglish (P6)  was in downtown New York on the morning of September 11, 2001, setting up for a presentation in a conference room on the 59th floor of the Standard & Poor’s building when all of a sudden all hell broke loose. What happened that day and what Jim experienced became the basis for his play Unsafe: a psychological thriller, that explores the dangers that surround us.

Listen to Jim as he tells the details of the day.

TRIGGER WARNING: The content may be upsetting for some people.

We get our news from a gazillion sources that ultimately shape our opinions.  NYT, Boston Globe, CNN, NPR, Fox News, LA Times, USA Today, The Guardian, Al-Jazeera. RT. Politico. Even Comedy Central. But, except for Comedy Central, all of the other outlets (and a host of which I didn't list) fall under the misnomer of "factual" news outlets. But they are as far from factual as you can get; they all have their own particular editorial slant and agenda.

We rarely look to the arts for commentary on the news of the day--on actual current events in real time--and I don't understand why.  I don't understand why an artistic lens isn't as viable as a journalistic one, given that journalism is just as bias as any other lens. You just have to be cognizant of which lens you're looking through.

The 5th Annual Boston One-Minute Play Festival is taking a new course this year, presenting the festival in two series, A and B. Each playwright was asked to write two one-minute plays; for Series A the playwrights had to answer the question, Where have we been? and Series B answers, Where are we going? The context of the questions are our community at large: Boston.

Approximately 50 playwrights were asked to participate, and what you get are 100 heartbeats that make up an entire night of theater/commentary on who are are as a community, where we've been, and where we're going.

The 5th Annual Boston One-Minute Play Festival runs January 2 - 5, 2016, right at the time in our lives when we're looking back on an old year, and looking toward a new one.