In part because last week we had a Tuesday deadline, and those are awful business: all that pressure and anxiety constricted into the first day and a half, and then you still have to come in Wednesday and start on a new project,
in part because Rachel just finished her second semester of school as is suddenly on “summer break,” whereas I, really for the first time in my life (could that be true?) have no promise of such an off-season,
in part because our current show, the amazingly beautiful/sexy/smart Boleros for the Disenchanted by the ridiculously talented/humble/nice José Rivera, has a tight three-week run, pushing all of our deadlines for the next show, Edward Albee’s At Home at the Zoo, up a week,
and in part because At Home at the Zoo is the final show of an eight-show, emotional roller-coaster of a season, in which we have evaluated and re-evaluated every element of the two departments I straddle (publications and literary/artistic),
my professional brain is running on fumes.
One final contributing factor to this mental exhaustion: I’m not sure Edward Albee likes dramaturgy attached to his shows. Infamously protective of his creations–“[The text] is a suggestion, yes, and pay absolute attention to it! . . . I tell actors at the beginning of any new production, whether I’m directing or not: ‘Do whatever you want as long as you end up with exactly what I intended.’ It gives people the illusion of leeway.”–Albee also believes everything the audience needs to appreciate and understand his plays is in the text, and that the they should (as much as possible) enter his plays as if it is their first time to the theater. He’s anti-context! What’s a dramaturg to do?
Of course, there is really plenty to do: if the audience doesn’t need anything for the play, we’ll give ’em interesting information around the play, and those topics are never difficult to find on the sidelines of Mr. Albee’s work. Now if I could only somehow resolve those pesky looming-deadlines and exhausted-brain troubles, I’ll be all set to start a Monday.