Project in the Works: Rock or Hard Place to be expanded!

Last year, I wrote a 20-minute short entitled "Rock or Hard Place" about two, very green U.S. Coast Guardsmen and their encounter with a young Haitian girl and her grandmother trying to smuggle into the United States by boat. The play received a reading last October in the lower east side, but I have yet to find a new venue for it. Well, about a month ago, I decided that I was going to expand that short into a full-length play and turn "Rock or Hard Place" into the first of a trilogy of plays about Haiti.

Many of you don't know this, but I was born and raised in Port-au-Prince, Haiti until I was nine. I've been away from my native country for a long time, but recently, I've been feeling my Haitian blood coursing through my veins stronger than it ever has before. I think I have a calling to try to change the way Haiti is portrayed by the media in America.

You see, I remember Haiti with fondness. A great, big ole' helping of it. When I was in Haiti, it was the happiest that I've ever been in my whole life. The country was, and still is, rich with many different cultures that I learned a lot from. And because I was exposed to many different nations who accepted me as I accepted them, it allowed me to be dropped into any type of situation with all races and classes with relative ease in my adult life. I remember a household where there was plenty of food to eat and abundant crops on our property. I remember giant plantains and banana trees that looked like they were uprooted from the original Garden of Eden. A place where everyone was kind. A place where the education was far more advanced at Quisqueya Christian School than some of the schools that I attended when I moved to America. A place where friendships remained tight and only dissolved with too much distance instead of fickleness.

I remember a lot of wonderful things, things that have been blotted out by incessant reporting in the news about how poor it is, and how it's filled with ungodly spirits (voodoo). Last year and this year, there have been more talk about the rapes, kidnappings and continuous people smuggling in the news. Yes, there is that dark side. But there is also the light.

I have been doing quite a bit of research for my play. I have been speaking with people who were recently in Haiti, lawyers who handle immigration, and people who feel as strongly as I do about changing the face of Haiti. I am extremely excited, as this project is coming from the heart. I hope to have Rock or Hard Place completed by mid-September.

It's an ambitious deadline, but I'm up for the task.

First Impressions: Michael Feingold

There was a collective hush in the cafeteria at The Eugene O'Neill when Michael Feingold walked in. Everyone stared in his direction, even those that didn't know what he looked like. Because if you only looked for a moment, you would catch on. Dunno if we were silent because we were in awe of his theater prowess or whether we were amazed that there were so many young actors milling about him (sorry, Michael, I guess what happened at the O'Neill didn't stay at the O'Neill), or both. But I soon learned firsthand that he deserved every bit of attention that he commanded.

Michael Feingold is smart. No, scratch that. He's not just smart. He's super-brainy in the way that aspiring theater critics want to be or think they are. Except, his knowledge surpasses theater. There was food knowledge and multiple languages flowing out of his mouth so casually that I don't think he was even aware that he was dropping science on us. Well, no. He was definitely aware. But that's only because he's not only knowledgeable but confident. And the confident naturally attract an audience without even trying.

I would have loved a one-on-one with Feingold, but unfortunately, there was no time. At any rate, I wanted to make sure that I put something in front of him that was at least half-way polished.

The day he critiqued our reviews was a nerve-racking day for me, but I made sure I sat as close to him as I possibly could. We were seated in the library, where Feingold sat at the head of the table with his back facing a large window. I remember looking through the window at the small, green hill below it, and thinking to myself: "self, if he doesn't like it, you can always plunge through the window and roll down into the bushes. It won't kill you, but it will make a statement." All joking aside, Feingold's opinion did mean a lot, and I was happy to get a favorable one.

As I read my review of the revival of a well-known musical (unlike some of the other mentors, Feingold preferred that we read our own instead of another critic fellow reading for us), his eyes lingered over the words, reflecting over them thoughtfully.

There was a pregnant pause.

Finally, he said, and I'll never forget it, "this summary....is...very good." Score! Even if the next words out of his mouth were going to tear the rest of the review down (they weren't), I was content, no thrilled, with the first ones. It truly was a triumphant moment for me.

Feingold doesn't realize it, but we were friends on Facebook well before bootcamp. Hopefully after this post, I won't find myself de-friended. :)

First Impressions: Andy Propst

Andy Propst had the wrong impression of me from the very beginning. Why? Because my fellow critic fellows filled him with tall tales about a budding romance between myself and another playwright that was there.

There was no romance, only a fauxmance.

We met in the cafeteria (I miss you terribly, crispy bacon) during lunchtime at the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center.

Wait, back up.

Andy was later kind enough to remind me that we had actually seen each other before in New York. We were both there to review a marginally entertaining but wholly misguided play. I wish I remembered which one it was. All I remember is skits, ice skating, and vaudeville.

Later, Andy sat in on my humbling session with Mark Charney, but didn't lead it. He had plenty of opportunity later though to lead three sessions about blogging.

Andy was funny as heck, although some of the jokes that he told were at my love life's expense. He made sure that he ran with the fauxmance story. But I had to laugh. Of all the mentors that were there, he was the most relaxed and really knew how to have fun.

He was also the mentor that taught us the most about the future. He taught us about blogging, and where that was headed. Coincidentally, those sessions are probably what lit a fire under my tush to start blogging again, so I thank him for that.

Apart from Dominic Papatola, he was also the mentor that I stretched the limit with...in a good way. The review that I turned into him was probably the snarkiest, but at least it was clever. I shall always remember "I'da left by now if I was sitting by the exit."

Sometimes, I just can't resist!