Production Staff
Director: Tony Vezner
Stage Manager: Terry Locke
Asst. Stage Manager:
Catherine Bloomer
Set Design:
Art Kelly
Set Construction:
Heinz Karplus, Art
Kelly
Set Painting:
Donna Kanak, Susan
MacNicholas
Props: Bonnie
Hilton, Liz Steele
Costumes: Susan Remy
Costume Crew:
Trisha Boren, Peggy Carlson,
Carrie Claus, Pauline Gamble,
Kristen Lampadius, Margaret Nikoleit
Makeup: Martha Hogenboom
Lighting Designers:
Noel Smith,
Ruth Smith
Lighting Crew:
Linda Frevelletti, Anne Marie Hultgren,
Mike Huth, Dick Jacoby, Peg Jacoby,
Sandy Liakus, Paul Roach, Cal Turner
Sound: Joe
Nikoleit
Dramaturg: Ed Wavak
Makeup Designer: Martha
Hogenboom
Makeup Crew:
J. Hedy Bosch, Holly Cejka,
Virginia Swinnen
Properties Designers:
Bonnie Hilton, Liz Steele
Properties Crew:
Sandra Buboltz, Bill FitzGerald,
Laura Leonardo-Ownby, Arlene Page,
Sue Turner
Set Designer: Art Kelly
Set Construction Chairs:
Heinz Karplus, Art Kelly
Set Construction Crew:
John Allen, Anne Cahill, Joe Delaloye,
George Dempsey, Bill FitzGerald,
Kirby Harris, Mark Hewitt, Mike Huth,
Bill Love, John Otto, Rich Ptacek, Paul Roach,
Todd Sleezer, Greg Valek
Set Painting Chairs:
Donna Marie Kanak, Susan MacNicholas
Set Painting Crew:
Jeff Arena, Stephanie Brescia,
Karen Holbert, Pat Huth, Jan Frommelt,
Becky
McCormack, Mary Jo O'Hern,
Laura Michicick, Laura Leonardo-Ownby, Bill Rotz, Connie Sierzputowski, Sandy
Squillo, Marilyn Weiher
Sound Designer: Joel Nikoleit
Sound Crew:
Carol Dapogny, Betsy Gurlacz
Production Box Office Chair:
Mary Ellen Schutt
Production Box Office Crew:
Ruth Cekal, Terry Kozlowski, Jill Neely,
Lori Proksa, Joan Roeder, Patti Roeder,
Mary Smith, Sandy Squillo, Don Strueber
Production Hospitality Bakers:
Carol Clarke, Bonnie Hilton, Karen Holbert, Pat Huth, Kathleen Kusper,
Lisa
Machak, Virginia Swinnen, Megan Wells
Production Hospitality Crew:
John Archer, Linda Bremer, Brian Centers, Carol Clarke, Mary Clarke,
Mary Ellen Druyan, Mike DeKovic,
Charlie Egan, Mike Huth, Pat Huth,
Kathleen Kusper, Caitlin Machak,
Lisa Machak, Fumiko Kehoe Michael,
David Michael, Duane Mills, Arlene Page, Claire Amy Shunk, Todd Sleezer,
Susan Sponder, Megan Wells
Production House Manager Crew:
Jack Calvert, Susan Cardamone,
George Dempsey, Karen Holbert,
Harry Hultgren, Mike Mallon, Kevin
McGrath, Andy Neely, Tom Schutt
Production Lobby Photo Display
Marjorie Mason Heffernan, Jane Stacy
Production Posters: Kathleen Kusper
Production Program Chair:
Carol Dapogny
Production Program Design:
John Vilhauer
Production Publicity Chair:
Arlene Page
===================
About
the Author:
David Mamet was born in Chicago in 1947 and
grew up on the south side. He spent his college years at Goddard College
in
Vermont and later became its Artist-in-Residence. Returning to Chicago, he
worked odd jobs including cab driver, real estate salesman, and writer for
a
men's magazine. He started ushering at theaters in New York and worked his
way up.
Many of Mamet's early works premiered in Chicago,
first at the Goodman Theatre Studio or at the now-defunct St. Nicholas
Theatre, which Mamet founded. He burst into the American consciousness
with
such early works as The Duck Variations and Sexual Perversity in Chicago
(later filmed as About Last Night...). But it was with his 1975 play
American Buffalo that Mamet emerged as a highly respected playwright.
Shortly after that success, A Life in the Theatre also amassed high
critical
praise.
Since then, Mamet has become one of America's
most influential playwrights. He is also a well-regarded stage and film
director. He has written novels, essays, children's books, poems, and song
lyrics. Among his credits are Boston Marriage (which opened last summer in
Cambridge); The Cryptogram; Edmond; Glengarry Glen Ross, for which he won
the Pulitzer
Prize; Oleanna; Speed-the-Plow (which starred Madonna on
Broadway); and The Water Engine (produced at tws in 1992). He has adapted
three of Chekhov's major works. A partial list of his screenwriting credits
includes The Edge; Hoffa; House of Games; The Postman Always Rings Twice;
The Spanish Prisoner; State and Main (due this year); Things Change; The Untouchables; The Verdict; Wag the Dog; and The Winslow Boy.
He has taught at a number of universities including
Yale, University of Chicago, New York University, and Columbia University.
He helped establish the Atlantic Theatre Company in New York. Mamet is now married to
actress/musician
Rebecca Pidgeon and lives in Vermont and Cambridge,
Massachusetts. In
addition to his writing, he designs a line of clothing distributed by
Banana
Republic.
====================
About the Play
David Mamet began writing A Life in the Theatre
while hanging around his father's office. He would sit down at the
electric
typewriter and write out brief sketches, which soon accumulated to some
fifteen scenes about life in the theater. The scenes then, of course,
evolved into the play.
A Life in the Theatre was first produced in Chicago at the Goodman
Theater's
Stage Two, opening February 3, 1977. It starred Mike Nussbaum and Joe
Mantegna (two longtime Mamet regulars) and was directed by Gregory Mosher,
who has collaborated with Mamet on many of his works. It was next produced
by Jane Harmon in New York City, opening October 20, 1977 at the Theatre
de
Lys in Greenwich Village. This production featured Ellis Rabb and Peter Evans under the direction of Gerald Gutierrez. In between productions,
Mamet
expanded his play adding about 15 minutes to the 75-minute Chicago
version.
He also added a third silent character, the stage manager, to help
facilitate the scene changes. The New York production was broadcast on
public television in June of 1979. Mamet also wrote the teleplay for a production of
A Life in the Theatre which aired on tbs in 1993.
The movie starred
Jack
Lemmon and Matthew Broderick. Gregory Mosher directed once again.
====================
On "Humming the Set"
by Carol Dapogny
Several years ago during a discussion about the
necessity for "balance" in the production of a play,
Ted Kehoe
(Artistic
Director of TWS 1978-1991) remarked that he never wanted audiences leaving
this theatre "humming the set." Such a pithy line tends to stick
in the
brain, forming the basis of theatrical judgment. It is the collaborative
effort of all the designers, costume, makeup, set, etc., that is critical.
If any part shouts "look at me," then the audience may miss the
play. A good
theatrical production is a perfect example of the whole being greater than
the sum of the parts. About the same time as Ted's comment, TWS
stopped using a front stage curtain. The timing was probably
only
coincidental, but it has been decades since the lights went down, the
curtain opened, and TWS audiences applauded the set. Today, from the
minute
you enter the house as an audience member, you become part of the play.
The
set is there, and as you take off your coat and wiggle comfortably into
your
seat you become part of the show. You see where you are, and your
imagination begins the process of creating the drama. As designers and
crew members we take great personal pride in our work. But what we do is only
to
help the audience enter the play-to give theatrical reality to a
make-believe world. If the audience is jarred by any element of the
production, the whole production suffers. I was reminded of Ted's directive as I typed in the
names of the more than 30 people who designed, built, painted and dressed
this set for A Life in the Theatre.
If we have done a good job of keeping
balance, you won't even think about the set-certainly not hum it - as you
leave. You will probably think that we have a moderately messy "backstage" and had a really easy time getting the stage ready
for this
production. In reality, our stage and backstage areas have much less
character than the set for "A Life in the Theatre." So we set about to create a "theatrical stage,"
something audiences expect a stage to be. The cinder block back wall is
really painted styrofoam; the partially painted side wall is really a
canvas
flat painted to look "partially painted." Much of the piping on
the "walls"
was, until recently, part of our
40-year-old furnace which we replaced in
early April. The battens holding the lights-which we usually try to be
sure
you don't see-for this show were lowered because that is what you expect
to
see backstage. And finally at about 10:30 pm a dozen days before this show
opened, a great shout of joy came from the light and set construction
crews,
"They're all on!" Getting the "footlights" and
"stage lights" to work
correctly was more of a challenge than originally expected. When A Life in the Theatre closes, we will tear
down our temporary construction. If we have kept production balance, you
will not walk out "humming the set." And we will start again
with another
blank stage, our really, truly "ho-hum" stage.
================ |
Director's Note:
Director's Note
One of the most basic human needs that we all
share is the desire to leave something that will survive us, to make a
mark
upon the world for later generations to see. There are two main ways to do
this: have children, or create something that will (hopefully) last a long
time after your death. Your creation may be a work of art, a company, a
trust fund, a political/social movement, or a law. The item is less
important than its permanence.
This need to leave something built the pyramids. It painted the Mona Lisa.
It incorporated McDonald's. It is also this need
that American presidents consider as they approach the end of their terms,
and most people feel this need as the end of their careers and lives draw
near. Imagine how frustrating it would be if the things
you were building to leave a mark after your life continually vanished -
not
after you were gone, but right before your face. Such is the fate of the
theatre artist. Everything that is produced in the theatre disappears the
moment the show closes. Those keepsakes that supposedly record theatre
performances fade and pale in comparison with the real experience -
photos
look posed and static, videotapes seem flat and false, news clippings
become
irrelevant, and memories either expand or fail over time. As someone who has worked in theatre for nearly
ten years, the only thing I have that accurately reflects the impact of my
work is myself-my life and my point of view as it has been affected by the
process of doing that work. The same can be said of most of the volunteers
here at tws. As you walk from our lobby towards the restrooms you will
pass
a wall with many photos on it-those are our Active Laureates, volunteers
who
have given significantly of themselves and their time to make tws a better
place. While you may be able to find tangible things in
the Theatre that are directly due to their work here, most of the Active
Laureates will tell you that the biggest benefit of their work in the
Theatre has been the effect it has had on their lives. That effect is hard
to quantify, but you can sense it when you speak to them. Their lives are
richer from having worked in theatre and from having made it a part of
their
lives.
The question is, how do you pass on that intangible
quality, that love of the art form, the people, values, memories,
excitement, fulfillment, and traditions to those who follow you? Where is
the proof?
If you could pass on the intangible, could the
receiver appreciate it fully? That's Robert's main conundrum in this play.
His attempts to pass on his "life in the theatre" make up the
comedy and
pain of this entertainment. If theatre is your life, how do you give it
away? And do you necessarily have to die in the process?
Among the staff and Actives at TWS, there is a
constant giving away of our lives. Some give more readily than others, and
some fear the risk of giving, but in the end we all want to share our
gifts.
I have an Active friend who invites me to her home
for long lunches. We sit and talk for hours about old shows, some of which
had their final performance before I was born. She wants me to know about
them and to appreciate their worth in some measure as she does. I am happy
to listen and to try to learn. After all, she is giving me the richest
part
of her estate. She is giving me her life.===================
Dramaturg
Note
What You Hear Isn't Necessarily
What You Hear
by Edward W. Wavak
David Mamet has been compared to such writers
as Harold Pinter, Samuel Beckett, Ernest Hemingway, and Luigi Pirandello.
The former two certainly influenced him, especially early in his career,
but
now he has his own style that others try to emulate. His experience as a
young artist in the theatre, and his view of more mature ones, is clearly
revealed in A Life in the Theatre. Mamet has composed essays about his
artistic influences and his individual mentors as well, experienced
theatre
artists who influenced his passion for writing for the stage. The passing
down of codes of behavior, and the contrasting urge to strike out in new
directions, is one of the playwright's common themes.
Mamet is known for writing about the grittier
side of life, often writing about thieves and hustlers and the
demystification of the American Dream (or in the case of this
play, the
demystification of the theatrical dream). His play American Buffalo helped
define, if not start, what is now considered to be "Chicago-style
theater."
Several decades ago, his raw language and "in your face" style
were
shockingly new.
Mamet's style is highly dependent upon his
unique use of language. A Mamet play may seem confusing because the
characters never say what they mean. But according to Mamet, "That's
why
theater's like life, don't you think?
No one really says what they mean,
but
they always mean what they mean." So when watching a Mamet play, it
is
important to listen for the sounds and rhythms of the dialogue.
His
dialogue
says nothing but means
everything. At times it is more important to know what isn't said as much
as
what is.
Mamet states that human beings do not
"communicate our wishes to each other, but we communicate to achieve
our
wishes from each other. We do not speak the desire but speak that which is
most likely to bring about the desire."
Whether it's dialogue that breaks off in mid-
sentence, or the use of "gritty" language, his characters are
people we all
can relate to in one way or another. Critics have noted that Mamet's
language enables him to tell the truth about his characters in a way that
more traditional, finely phrased writers cannot.
Mamet seems to be an actor's writer as well in that
his dialogue is rich with both meaning and rhythm. Perhaps
J.J. Johnston,
who was in the original production of American Buffalo, summed it up best
when he said, "(David) threw away more good lines than most guys
write in a
lifetime."
Mamet has described A Life in the Theatre as a
slightly sad comedy "about and in praise of actors - those individuals
whom we
elect to live out our dreams for us upon a stage."
The main question,
as
Mamet sees it is, "How does one
train oneself to live in the moment - to make the moment (every moment) on
stage so beautiful, so full, so unliveably affective and true that one is
forced to the next moment."
Mamet carefully crafted A Life in the Theatre to
give the viewer an inside look at the life of actors. And although the
play
may seem to be simply "about theater," its conflict is more
universal than
just the art of theater. As with any turning point, there is turmoil and
pain. And in any career, in any life, one wants to find and to be a
mentor. As Mamet's career shows, there are times when we need our influences, and
times when we become one ourselves.
====================
What the Critics Say
Compiled by Jeff Arena
David Mamet's writing has provoked countless
acts of celebration, rebuttal, and dissection. Fellow playwrights and
directors find affirmation in his
scripts and essays about art. Critics
ferret out fodder for either the salvation or damnation
of contemporary theatre. Academics uncover references, revelations and
philosophies to scrutinize in thesis work. A sampling of
comments follows.
"I'm beginning to see David Mamet as the Andy
Warhol of theater. They are, of course, outwardly as different as a crew
cut
is from a lopsided wig, but they link in the superficial essentials. Both,
for example, claim that their art reflects the culture, or America, in
this
convenient way: if you find nothing there, so much the better. Mr. Mamet
explained to the New Yorker recently, 'As Bettelheim says in The Uses of
Enchantment, the more you leave out, the more we see ourselves in the
picture, the more we project our own thoughts onto it.' It's a trick that
works."
-John Heilpern
"Much of A Life in the Theatre looks humdrum
on the page; the theatrical parody scenes, where Robert and John perform
their repertory roles to unseen audiences, sometimes seem niggardly,
strained and unfunny. In fact, they give directors a wonderful chance to
parody not only old-fashioned dramaturgy
and 'classic' plays, but also
styles of acting and staging. Humor for educated theatre buffs,
perhaps....Thus Mamet's minimalism does incorporate-as any first-rate
playwright's-the kind of
situations in which, though the text looks
sparse,
the staging will bloom."
-Dennis Carroll
"David Mamet is a national treasure as a
playwright and as an inspired teacher. His writings on theater are dead
practical since he deals only with the truth. To add joy to the shock of
recognition, there is Mamet's humor, which startles us and makes us laugh
more often than we expect with a true philosopher."
-Mike Nichols
"This is a professional actor's greatest challenge.
How do you juggle the mysterious balance between the felt and the
faked?...In 1997 David Mamet published a typically forthright book called
True and False, in which he argues that an actor's so-called 'feelings'
don't, or shouldn't, come into it. An actor,
he says, is no different than
a
carpenter. He is out there to do a job.
...Say the
lines audibly, says Mamet, and leave the audience to interpret them for
you....Mamet's book is a provocation. It's graffiti, scrawled in anger
over
the excesses of the kind of method
acting which can often be unassimilated
in American work....
However, if the truth were as practical as Mamet
pretends, then acting would be a much easier business than it is....
You
also
can't help remembering that the most indelible Mamet performances - as from
Al
Pacino in American Buffalo -
have been given by actors who believe the exact
opposite to what Mamet argues. Their method juiciness brings vital
moisture
to Mamet's clinical dryness."
-David Hare
"Mr. Mamet's attraction to lying, in other
words, reaches beyond theme, and beyond drama per se, to much more
fundamental questions about what makes theater theater....Mr. Mamet is
drawn
to the sham and pretense of such situations not only because he likes
tricksters as people, but also because he prefers to view human behavior
in
terms of acting-acting treated not cynically, dismissively or as a
specialized activity...but with broad sympathy for the discipline as a
rich
world of experience in itself."
-Jonathon Kalb
"Mr. Mamet proves in (A Life in the Theatre)
that he is an eloquent master of two-part harmony....He brings new life to
the theater."
-Mel Gussow
=================== |
