Category: ARTS & THEATER

Food Tank: Bridging Theatre and Advocacy

As a nonprofit whose mission is to advocate for sustainable food systems, Food Tank uses research, writing, and public events to inspire conversation and catalyze progress towards food and environmental equity. Art has always been a key arm of their approach. Their screenings of documentaries at events like the Sundance Film Festival have helped shed light on issues like the control of agricultural resources and the corporatization of our food sources.

Food Tank often creates programming with the South by Southwest (SXSW) “All Things Food Summit,” and in March 2023 Pollack and his co-founder Danielle Nierenberg decided to feature the first few scenes of Little Peasants in front of an audience, which ran concurrent with panel discussions about labor movements in the food service industry. The event amplified the work of farmers, food workers, chefs, businesses, and policymakers who are working to transform our agriculture systems. Pollack told me that they wanted to see how attendees reacted to having a piece of theatre as part of the programming, and the response was overwhelmingly positive with the play receiving a standing ovation.

While that was the first time Food Tank had featured a play in one of their conferences, Little Peasants isn’t Food Tank’s first foray into theatre. Pollack’s first play, Garjana, later reimagined as WeCameToDance, was initially performed as part of a fundraising event and later scheduled to debut at La MaMa Experimental Theatre Club, but it was canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. The play tells the tale of extraterrestrial beings descending upon Earth, bearing a crucial warning about an incoming climate crisis that mirrors their own world’s past. Blending song, dance, and audience interaction, the characters passionately implore for collective action and convey the poignant reality of environmental upheaval—all while inspiring people of all ages to get up and dance. Food Tank took WeCametoDance to Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2021 and maintained a sold-out run of four weeks, despite audiences being slow to return during the pandemic. The response during this tricky time was a sign of optimism that audiences were excited to get back to the theatre, with some even returning multiple times dressed up as their favorite alien and learning their dance moves.

By placing food not just at the center of the play thematically, but at the center of the experience and venue of the workshop, Food Tank and Little Peasants inspired cheers, boos, and many post-show stories from audience members

Interactive Theatre Can Amplify Accountability

In keeping with their belief in the effects of interactive theatre, Pollack and Robinson asked the audience at the Burren to be part of a vote at the moment in Little Peasants when the baristas of Unicorn Coffee demand to have their voices heard in front of the corporate heads of the company. To create the environment of a true union drive, we created buttons that said “Vote No!” or “Union Yes!” that guests could choose from. By the time they had heard characters’ arguments, some were ready with their vote and were chanting and fist-bumping along with the characters, but others still took time to quietly think. While both votes went in the “Yes” direction during our performances, there were still a good number of “No” votes. The vote felt so real that our bartender for the evening thought at one point that this was a real union event. Pollack had written two endings, one where you’d see what could happen when a corporation extinguishes a drive, and the other where the labor organizers are inspired to work toward a unionized future.

“Theatre should never be a passive experience,” says Pollack. “The traditional setup of fixed seating, facing a stage in the front, and silencing our cell phones doesn’t enable the deeper connections and experiences that we know audiences are craving.”

By placing food not just at the center of the play thematically, but at the center of the experience and venue of the workshop, Food Tank and Little Peasants inspired cheers, boos, and many post-show stories from audience members whose parents were in a union, or who were in unions themselves as baristas, firefighters, or arts workers. Many voiced that they resonated with the character of Ashley, a single mother who doesn’t want to risk unionizing because she can’t afford to look for another job if her store gets shut down. Some were surprised to find that they empathized with the money-concerned coffee CEO Monique when she cautioned baristas that that her father faced intimidation tactics when he tried to join a union as its first Black member. Others shared that they appreciated that the medium of theatre helped them understand some of the more complicated aspects of labor organizing that are on such a national stage right now in so many industries.

By partnering with artists, activists, and grassroots organizations at the front lines of the food justice movement and putting their stories in front of people and institutions of power, Food Tank is amplifying their messages.

Art that Makes You Hungry for Food and Change

With WeCameToDance and Little Peasants, Food Tank has started a body of work about the interconnectedness of food, labor, and climate that seeks to empower any arts goer to take meaningful action in their communities. By partnering with artists, activists, and grassroots organizations at the front lines of the food justice movement and putting their stories in front of people and institutions of power, Food Tank is amplifying their messages.

Our barista characters’ struggles and dreams for the future were taken in by local elected officials, including the mayor of Somerville Katjana Ballantyne, deputy mayor of Cambridge Marc McGovern, and Massachusetts congresswoman Ayanna Pressley, who emphasized in front of the crowd that art is essential in order for our country and our systems to make progress: “There cannot be radical and transformative revolution without the arts. The play puts a spotlight on individuals fighting for better conditions and turning the tide of change for workers everywhere. It condemns systems that cause harm and celebrates unsung heroes.” We heard many audience members resonate with her call for more justice-oriented artmaking.

Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder: Welcome to Teaching Theatre, a podcast about the practice and pedagogy of theatre education produced for HowlRound Theatre Commons, a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide. I’m your host, playwright and theatre professor Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder.

Thanks for joining us for Teaching Theatre. On this episode, we’ll be talking about collaboration with Padraic Lillis and Jenn Goff. Jenn Goff is the chair of the theatre program at Centre College in Danville, Kentucky. An actor, director, improviser, dramaturg, scholar, and cat mom, Jenn’s research focuses on contemporary comic women playwrights, as well as comic and feminist theory more broadly. She earned her BA from the University of Portland, her MA from the University of South Carolina, and her PhD from Wayne State University. She’s a co-founder of the Distracted Globe Theatre Company, as well as Etudes, online journal for emerging scholars in theatre. Welcome, Jenn.

Jenn Goff: Hi, Elyzabeth.

Elyzabeth: And we have Padraic Lillis, the founding artistic director of the Farm Theater. He’s a writer, director, and teacher. He hosts The Farm Theater’s podcast, Bullpen Sessions. He’s a company member of the LAByrinth Theater Company and a lifelong Yankees fan.

Padraic Lillis: Hey, Elyzabeth. Well, thanks for having us.

Elyzabeth: Thank you, guys, so much for being with us today. When we started this project, I knew that we had to do an episode on collaboration because theatre is, at its core, a collaborative art. I wanted to start, actually, with Padraic. You run an organization, the Farm Theater, that gives theatre departments an opportunity to collaborate with a playwright to create a new play. And Jenn, you’ve directed one of these projects. So I wanted to start by inviting Padraic to just sort of give us an overview of how that project works, because I think it’s a really wonderful program that is unique in what it offers theatre programs. So could you tell us a little bit about what you guys do?

Padraic: I will. The Farm Theater goal is to cultivate early career artists through workshop productions and mentoring, and our main program is the College Collaboration Project, which, in partnership with three colleges, three theatre programs, we commission an early career playwright. We pick the playwright. The playwright has to have a voice that is able to write for young people, and by that, I define thirty years and younger so that undergraduate actors can respectfully achieve it.

And also they have to have something they want to write and work on for a year because they’re going to develop it over that academic year and be in conversation with the students about. And when we started, the first thing, once we picked the playwright and the theme they’re interested in writing in, we set up a Zoom, before Zoom was cool—because its in its tenth year—conversation with students from each of the schools, just so that the playwright can hear how college-age students are thinking about the topic they’re interested in writing about. And using those dramaturgical resources, the playwright is writing their play. They’re not writing for the specific students that they’re talking to, but they’re engaging everyone in a conversation about the theme.

After that conversation, which takes place usually like February-August, which just happened, we had our three-day workshop of the first draft of the script. We bring in professional actors in New York around the table, the schools, faculty, and representatives. Some students will come. Everyone in the room is participating in the development of the script over three days. And then the playwright from all that information in mining may rewrite the three days, but will rewrite from what they learned during that workshop. Send the draft to all the schools, but to the first school that’s doing the first production. They will start rehearsal, and the playwright goes to two days in-person to work with the students and the faculty in rehearsal process, rewriting, answering questions, asking questions, whatever they need.

Then, myself and the playwright see the production. What we learn from the production, the playwright rewrites again. Go to the second school, the third school. It is modeled after the National New Play Network’s rolling premiere except for its rolling development. And then at the end of the process, we will do a reading in New York that showcases the play and the project, and we’ll invite actors from each of the productions to come and do their part in the reading next to professional actors. And that’s how the program works.

And one of my goals when we talk about collaboration is that we’re going to grow the script. It’s going to get three productions. They’re going to have the collaboration, but it’s really about growing artists and recognizing how important your voice is and strengthening the voice.

Elyzabeth: One of the things that I love about the program is it really is collaboration at its best because you have an opportunity to have a playwright in the room with a director and these students who are young actors, so everyone has an opportunity to work together. So Jenn, you are a director and a teacher, so how do you teach collaboration?

Jenn: Oh, well, it’s sort of fundamental to everything that I try to teach. Even in history and literature classes, I do collaborative exams because I think it’s important that theatre students just come to tasks with this collaborative mindset. And so an opportunity like this program where we’re able to see the script as collaborative in a way that students don’t always get to see. Scripts are those beautiful finished things that we get in nice bindings and they’re unapproachable a lot of the time. And so we get a chance to sort of use a project like this for students to see a script as something that they are directly impacting and that they might even consider themselves capable of doing someday because it’s not some unapproachable monolith, it’s something that all the artists are taking part in and all the artists are building together.

And I think that that’s really, really an exciting thing that I’ve never gotten to do with any other teaching experience. Because certainly we want them all to be in the room together and learning how to tell a story together. And this college collaboration project really furthers that experience of collaboration.

Elyzabeth: I also really love that it gives students an opportunity to learn a very specific vocabulary in terms of how to communicate with a writer, how to communicate with a director so that when they go out into the professional world, they have those skills because this is the kind of opportunity that most students don’t have until they leave college.

Padraic: I want to just talk about that because we just did the three-day workshop, and on the second day we had thirty people in the room. We had fifteen students, along with faculty and the cast and the playwright. And it was great to remind them, I said, “We’d love to hear what is interesting to you and also what questions you have,” because I found young artists wanting to solve it, and I’m like, “You don’t have to find the solution. First of all, we’re on day one of a yearlong project, so your solution is… Even the playwright’s solution is not going to be the solution a year from now. So let’s not spend time there, just what are your questions? What’s it provoking in you? What are you excited about?”

And also to model the idea of the actor committing to their job of acting also helps to clarify for the playwright what’s working and not working. And so everybody… But it was interesting just when you said it, it sparked that moment because I was like, “Right, we’re all coming to it and we’re happy to hear ideas, but you don’t have to find the solution. You just participate in the conversation.”

Elyzabeth: So what are some of the challenges that you see students struggle with in the collaborative process?

Jenn: I think one of the big challenges I often experience with my students is the desire to be right. They want to make sure they’re getting the right answer, and they don’t want to take the risks it takes to potentially find something that’s more exciting and more engaging. And that being open to a collaborative process where you can’t necessarily control the outcome is very, very scary when you want the right answer. I think students are… We joke a lot about group projects because group projects are infamously terrible, but theatre is a group project no matter what. And so I think getting students out of the sort of fear of vulnerability that comes with putting the fate of your project into the collective hand is a challenge.

Elyzabeth: I like that you said that students want to have the right answer. And I think that a lot of students really struggle with that. And of course, as artists there is no right answer. It’s all so subjective. And so many students really struggle to let go of that. Padraic, what do you see when you get in the room with students?

Padraic: Well, that’s one of them is the right, but also that willingness to… The right thing is absolutely it, but also willingness not only to be wrong, make mistakes, but to fully be able to look at it from another point of view. Because there’s a lot of times where you’ll hear early on when you’re talking about a play and a character, “Well, I wouldn’t do that.” And you’re like, “Right, right, right.” But let’s figure out why this person would do that. Because it may not make sense and it may need to be explored. Is this the action, and does it make sense in the story?

But a lot of times it’s getting them to… You want them to bring their life experience to it, but also you want them to look at it from, what if it’s another perspective? And when they can do that and open it up, it becomes very exciting because you love them to bring their own perspective, but you also want them be… I want them to challenge the room, but also be challenged themselves and allow themselves that.

So I find those what it is, the being right and also the “I wouldn’t.” And it’s also like don’t ever—I was about to put the negative on—but try to be open to the positive and no limitations because there’s always the… We just, like Jenn said, we came from the three-day workshop, and it’s so interesting when they’re talking about the end of the play and the impact it’s going to have on the audience, and they want to control that. And you’re like, “Let it go and see what the character needs and see what the story is and let it flow and be open, open as opposed to putting a cap and limitation on something.” I loved when Jenn said something they can control.

And it’s exciting through this project watching it over the years that you do watch the play grow, and you watch the students recognize how much it grew and how much it grew through their contribution. And then when it’s getting done, they’re like, “Oh my God, I didn’t know that was possible.” And I think that’s exciting, but those are the barriers at first.

Elyzabeth: Stepping away from the Farm Project specifically, I wanted to talk a little bit about devising because so many more people are focusing on devising within their theatre programs. How do you think devising has changed the way we approach collaboration?

Jenn: That’s such an interesting question. I’m an improviser. I’ve been an improviser for about twenty years, and that’s one of those things that I think people are terrified of storytelling that they don’t know the destination when they get there. It can be really terrifying for people to walk in and say, “We’re going to tell a story, and we don’t know any of the ingredients.”

But I also sometimes find that that ends up making the journey all that more exciting and personal to the creators. It’s again sort of democratizing the process of playwriting that it doesn’t just belong to this person in this room with a typewriter who writes all day and then sends us this perfect finished thing. It makes writing belong to everyone, and it makes storytelling belong to everyone. And I think it’s intimidating for sure because we are very used to being told that we’re in our silos. “I am an actor.” “I’m a designer.” “I’m a director.” “I’m a playwright.” And devising asks us all to be all of those things and understand all of those things. And that’s where I think that theatre training has to make sure that students understand all the pieces of theatre and can speak all those languages because you can’t devise, you can’t effectively collaborate, if you don’t know how to speak to everybody else in the room.

Elyzabeth: Those are all great points. One of the things that has come up in some of our previous conversations has also been sort of who’s in charge. It’s this collaborative process, but who is in charge in that situation? We are all collaborators, we all have a stake in this, but is there someone actually running the ship? And different people have had different thoughts on what the answer to that is. Do you guys have any thoughts on that?

Padraic: I have thoughts on it. I have thoughts on it, and it’s very serious. I have a hard time. I think that’s an important question. Even when we’re devising, it’s a very… When I think about play development in the workshop we did, and the first time you’re working on a playwright’s play, I think it’s important to have a director-dramaturg facilitating the conversation. So technically they’re leading the room, but you’re serving the playwright and you’re asking the playwright, you’re in the conversation with them: “What do you want to achieve? What do you want to hear? How do you want to go? Here’s ways to go about it.” And making sure that you’re serving them.

And it was actually exciting these past three days. We did for the first real time that I remember having actors improv a scene and then giving the context and information that we wanted the two characters to have. And that was useful, but it was important to have somebody facilitating the room so that the playwright could… They’re serving a play, they’re hearing it.

And when I think about devising, I love that Jenn said it was the thing about everybody understanding the roles and language and conversation. I think it is valuable that there’s somebody, somebody, I don’t think it has to be the “director,” but somebody’s facilitating it because I think what’s really… And somebody else who’s paying attention to record it. They’re not writing their script, but they’re recording the information. Because one of the things you need to do in any, what I believe is important in any collaboration is to create a safe environment so that people can fully commit to what you’re asking them to do, like that improv, so they can make mistakes, so they can try something, and so they don’t have to watch themselves or listen to themselves. So you have somebody outside creating that space for the people to go into it. And there’s somebody else on the outside saying, “Oh, that was really when I heard this, or I saw that.” And then we can talk about it afterwards, but create the environment where you’re not self-conscious while you’re creating it.

Elyzabeth: So another question I have is COVID really changed the way we made theatre because we couldn’t be together in the same way. Have you seen a change in the way students approach collaboration since the pandemic? Has it changed the way they collaborate? Has it changed the way they communicate with one another, with the way they interact with one another?

Jenn: The short answer is definitely yes. I remember the first show that we did live back from COVID, we were still rehearsing masks, but we were able to perform without masks. And the first day they took off masks, they couldn’t stop staring at each other’s mouths because they just weren’t used to seeing them.

And I do think that we talk a lot about the power of screens and the ways in which people pull away from each other when we’re all buried in our little screens, and we had to live in screens for two years. And I do think that that’s been a bit of a challenge for some of our students. But I also think that a lot of them have come back from it really hungry to collaborate, to be in a room and to do something real. So they may not necessarily have had the complete time in high school where they got to do all the school plays and really learn how that works and then keep moving forward. So they might come in with fewer hard skills on collaboration, but they want to do it. They really want to, and they know that they’ve missed out, and they want to make it happen, which is exciting.

Padraic: Yeah, they want to be in the… You’re right, they want to be in the room. But I also want to say one of the things that I have to get patience for because I’m old is the thing that the pandemic did I thought was great is finding different forms of communicating. And so in a rehearsal… Before COVID, when we were around the table, you would want everybody to be present and maybe have a notebook or something. And not just technology laptops are up, but people taking notes on their phone or sending a text. And realizing they’re not distracted because of Zooming for so long, they got used to putting something in chat or sending somebody a text about something and you realize if it’s a healthy room, they’re sharing ideas different ways.

And I thought, “Oh, that came out of this, and I think it’s useful.” It’s useful for me to be aware that that’s happening and that it’s not not productive, it’s a different way of sharing ideas. And some people are better at writing it in chat or that equivalent of whatever that is than speaking up maybe. And it’s really I found ways for different conversations to happen in a room, which is exciting, because I’d like it all to be in a circle and take time and one person at a time speak, but more information gets shared.

Elyzabeth: That’s a really good point. I hadn’t thought about that. The work that you do at the Farm is very specific. It’s a very specific process.

Jenn, what skills did you see your students take away from that experience?

Jenn: Definitely they really grow in their ability to analyze and talk critically about story and about character. I’ve directed two Farm shows now, and the first one was John Proctor Is the Villain. And we were the first school to do it. And when we first got the script, there were a couple of pages that said things like, “something awesome happens.” And it was great because the students really got to see their impact on the script as it went along. And there were scenes that were written after she met our actors, and there were lines that were delivered for the very first time by these twenty-year-old actors who now they look at that script and see themselves in these conversations and see how analyzing something isn’t just an exercise in English class, it’s very actionable, and that they can see that their ideas play out in very real artistic ways. That was really cool.

Elyzabeth: Padraic, what do you see students take away from the collaborative process?

Padraic: I see what Jenn said is I make a comment that I think it’s Miracle Grow for students because they recognize… I think it’s, and I’m going to say Miracle Grow again for them because it is. They see the impact that their artistry has. And when you talk about doing a play that’s published and done and you’re getting the tools of… When we’ve had students do everything, students have directed, designed, stage managed, and acted. But you’re sort of solving a problem of this published play, and you’re learning the tools of acting. But then when you realize that artistry is about using those tools for your voice, for you to express something, for you to… And when you bring that and you realize that what Jenn said, and Kimberly I just talked about her play, there’d be like six lines on a page and then “something awesome happens here” or the equivalent. And then you realize that how you said a line, what you brought to it, your personal artistry impacted that, and that play will be changed forever.

You watch their confidence just grow because they realize they matter and they’re not just learning how to act or trying to be Romeo for the first time, or if it’s been done for five hundred years, and do I get it right? They’re like, “Oh, I’m breathing life into something that’s never been given life to before.” And so I do, I watch them whenever I… We just met around the table in August, and when I see them, the same kids in June, yes, they’re a year older, but they’re so much more confident in the process all the time. And I find that to be the truth with all the kids who do the collaboration.

Elyzabeth: So, we’ve talked a lot about the actor-playwright-director-collaboration. How do you pull in your designers? How did they become part of this process?

Jenn: Yeah. Definitely the designers are a major part of the collaboration. Certainly we usually have at least one faculty designer, if not more, but then also student designers who are a part of it. And so there’s the sort of teaching them how to plan ahead the way you need to as a designer while also planning flexibility, because it’s a new plan, we don’t know what’s going to happen.

And they are definitely going to be present when the playwright is on campus. They’re going to be invited to and present in rehearsals when they can be because they need to… I don’t like when we get back to those silos I talked about, this notion that somehow the designers are separate from the process, that they are building a world alongside everybody else. We’re building it together, and so they have to be able to ask questions of the playwright.

We had the second play that I did as part of The Farm with Dipti Bramhandkar, who is this year’s playwright. She had a lot of really specific music in her script that our student sound designer could not wrap her brain around. And they spent so much time together talking about why this song and what does it mean and listen to the lyrics and listen to the beat and, “Oh, what else could fit along that?” And building this whole sonic world because she was empowered to ask the playwright questions and to bring her own creativity to the process. So really cool.

Padraic: Glad you mentioned it because that was the collaboration I was thinking about because the first response. It was also learning how that collaboration happened. Because at first it was like, “We wouldn’t listen to that song,” that limitation. And then when it became asking questions of what is it? What can it be? Why is it? And then it gives you opportunities like, “Oh, okay, if it’s that, then what if it’s this?” And it was really great.

And such a simple… I was thinking about that play for some reason because also the costume designer, I think, was a student and the people had to mature over a year, but it wasn’t about a year’s maturing. It’s called soft launch because it was the first year out of college and sort of finding your traction. At the end of the play, somebody has really taken a large step, and I thought, “Wow, they all look like they’re five, six years older in this simple thing.” And it’s like, “Oh, that person understood the journey of the play, and they were really engaged in what their job was for the end.” And I thought both of those student collaborations were because they were part of the whole and listening throughout and being in conversation. But it’s bringing them in as early as possible. I would like them to be around the table when we’re doing the first read for the year because they always start to think about how the story is going to be told physically.

Elyzabeth: So how do you think the collaborative process can help us through this moment of crisis that we’re in in the American theatre?

Padraic: There’s a couple of moments. There’s a moment of crisis in an absence of audience, and there’s absence of funding, and then there’s also important social change that’s happening in theatre. And I’m wondering when you say “crisis,” which one do you want me to think about? Because I don’t think the cultural change is a crisis. I think that’s for the better.

Elyzabeth: Definitely. Let’s think about it in terms of the crisis of our audiences and our funding because I think that’s the thing that is threatening our livelihood.

What we’re doing for our art is training students to be people who think about the way that the things that they say interact with and impact the people around them and how they can hear what other people need and value and what matters to them.

Padraic: Talk about one of the goals for the college collab is when we picked the playwright and I say, “Pick a theme that you’re interested in writing about,” it’s something I think undergraduates will be interested in having a conversation about. And when we get in the room for the three days, they’re having a conversation. Then when you’re in rehearsal and designers, and then we ask, and Centre College is a great partner with this, to reach out to, when we did John Proctor Is the Villain is about the #MeToo movement, counseling centers; and they start to have a conversation, and it becomes wider. And then of course the audience used the play, and the conversation gets wider.

And as it goes from community to community. Conversation keeps growing and growing and including more people. And I think what we want to remember is we tell the stories of theatre because we’re sharing ourselves; and if we’re fully sharing ourselves with a purpose, we’re not only asking the audience to listen, but we’re also listening back. It’s a conversation. And as long as we keep engaging them in the conversation and for a purpose of what we think is important, and what I think is important is our humanity. Not that we’re going to the theatre to lecture, but we’re going to examine. We’re going to talk about my humanness in this, around this theme, around this issue, around what makes it hard for me, what makes it exciting for me, and then hearing back from them about what resonates with them.

And I think if we can… That’s collaboration and it’s an inclusive conversation. And I think when we do that, and I think right now when we talk about building our audience back, I mean, I’m happy that Broadway is alive and well, but I think one of the ways we’re going to have to keep doing it is building an intimate audience and inviting them in for personal experiences. When we talked about the pandemic and being on screens, people wanted that connection. So as I talked holistically about the conversation, it’s building it intimately, building it personally, really listening to the audience, knowing that they’re valued, their experience with what they saw is important.

And then when you’re going to funders, it is sharing that, being like, “Here’s why it’s important. Here’s the conversation I had, and here’s the impact I heard.” And donors respond to that. They want a stronger community, and they want value. And what’s the value is people felt valued and they felt heard, and they felt seen. And so I think that’s the spirit of keeping the collaboration continuing from production to the audience, that that’s still collaborative.

Jenn: Yeah, I completely agree with Padraic’s discussion of the audience as part of the collaboration. We traditionally have treated the audience as if they are receivers of something, but it’s not even a performance until they’re there. And so really there’s the sort of what we’re doing for our art is training students to be people who think about the way that the things that they say interact with and impact the people around them and how they can hear what other people need and value and what matters to them. And I think that goes beyond their impact on the theatrical crisis as well, that the sort of global inability to connect with each other. Collaboration is at the heart of any solutions to that, that we have to learn how to communicate and listen and be vulnerable and share, and that it’s a worldview. It’s a way of making meaning. It’s not just a way of making art. And so that’s why I think that collaboration is necessary.

Padraic: What Jenn said made me remind me of when you said we’re making people. It’s like, “Right.” And I think what’s valuable about the process of collaboration in the room is if you learn to listen and you learn to understand other perspectives, you learn the value you bring. Whether those students or any of the artists in the room continue to make theatre or not, doesn’t matter. What matters is that they understand that they bring value into the world and that the other people in the room bring value to the world, and then they continue to build off of that into whatever direction they go in their life.

Elyzabeth: And I think as educators, that’s ultimately what we want for our students, that they can go out into the world and that they can be good collaborators, whether that’s as a theatre artist or in any other field that they decide to go into. Right?

Padraic: Yeah.

Elyzabeth: That these skills translate into so many other things.

Thanks, you guys, for being here today. It was lovely to talk to both of you.

Padraic: So great to talk to you.

Jenn: Yeah, this was fun.

Elyzabeth: This podcast is produced as a contribution to HowlRound Theatre Commons. You can find more episodes of this show and other HowlRound shows wherever you find podcasts. Be sure to search “HowlRound Theatre Commons podcasts” and subscribe to receive new episodes. If you love this podcast, post a rating and write a review on those platforms. This helps other people find us. You can also find a transcript for this episode along with a lot of other progressive and disruptive content on howlround.com. Have an idea for an exciting podcast, essay, or TV event the theatre community needs to hear? Visit howlround.com and submit your ideas to this digital commons.

Another artist who was primed and ready to step into these spaces is the playwright and performer Liz Morgan. It seems an obvious fit. Liz is the director of training and pedagogy at Theatre of the Oppressed NYC, the stellar organization that uses Augusto Boal’s iconic and impactful theatre of the oppressed techniques to challenge economic inequality, racism, and other social, health, and human rights injustices.

The aesthetic of Radical Evolution’s circus show weaponizes humor and satire to strategically assault systems of power.

Her activation into the movement for Palestine primarily comes through her participation in an ensemble of artists from Radical Evolution, a company I co-founded. The artists of Street Theatre Crew make work “For the Streets and For the People.” Inspired by their training with the historic street theatre company Jana Natya Manch and the construct of El Teatro Campesino’s “actos,” short agitprop political plays, the Street Theatre Crew took satirical aim at the media’s blatant and biased coverage of Israel’s assault and genocidal aims in Palestine. They created a “Modern Media Circus” in which Liz takes center stage as the frighteningly out of control Ringleader, a character she wrote with obfuscating, rhyming banter:

And if my grandiosity and grand verbosity already has your head spinning, turn your gaze to our first act as they spin the truth, toeing the line of “objective reporting,” walking the tightrope of bias. They’re gravity-defying and massacre-denying… Behold Our Flying Lying Alternative Factrobats!

The show had its first public sharing at the People’s Fair, and most team members reported being incredibly nervous. After all, many events surrounding the devastation of Palestine are rightfully somber events, and the aesthetic of Radical Evolution’s circus show weaponizes humor and satire to strategically assault systems of power. In this way, the show stood out significantly from other events on the bill. And Liz, as the ringleader in the center of it all, was understandably nervous. In an interview for this article, she told me she “was just like, ‘are we going to get up there and just make folks upset?’ It’s possible that we did, but in the right way. Making sure that people stay angry and that people have laughter and joy is also part of the work.”

But it was clear to the team that by the time the show crescendoed to its penultimate song-and-dance number, “Don’t Say Genocide,” the audience was with them. In this case, it seemed that after a few hours of heavy emotions, the audience seemed ready and willing to laugh. As El Teatro Campesino’s founder, Luis Valdez, once said, “You have to make fun of the tragedy in life in order to overcome it.”

These are just three of the many, many artists working around the clock to support a liberated Palestine. They reflect the true strengths of this kind of grassroots movement, both unified in purpose and pluralistic in its web of leadership. One of these strengths is the movement’s decentralization. After all, it’s hard to topple a movement without a top. There are many different groups mobilizing in many different ways, and each of the artists mentioned above is finding their own ways to lean into their strengths to support this movement: Leah through organizing artists; Fouad through musical theatre, autobiography, and comedy; Liz through street theatre. Each one defining and uplifting the value and necessity of “cultural resistance.”

This is the best boot camp for coming together and supporting each other because our freedom is not guaranteed.

This strategy is one of many challenges as well. Cultural workers, activists, organizers, and more are constantly working to create a network that is a “net-that-works.” Without this interconnected weave, common issues come up. Chief among them are the all-too-familiar issues of burn-out (because the same few people are doing 90 percent of all the difficult, time-consuming labor) and splintering of groups. While completely committed, each of these artists also spoke to me of the level of exhaustion that has begun to set in.

This is why artists such as Leah, Fouad, Liz, and so many others, and the smaller, more nimble organizations and cohorts working alongside them, are so essential. Organizers call out to artists in almost every movement and activist space I have experienced: “Please make propaganda for us. Make our revolution irresistible.” This call is as old as the need for social change. Movements need artists at every step. They need us. Palestine needs us. The Freedom Theatre needs us. The Movement need us. And we need them. As Leah Bachar asserts:

One of the biggest reasons why I am part of this movement is because I don’t consider it only a Palestinian cause. And while, yes, people are talking about Palestine, we’re also talking about ourselves. All of these things are things that can happen here in the United States. And so, as cultural workers, we’re no different than anybody that is under occupation. This is the best boot camp for coming together and supporting each other because our freedom is not guaranteed to be permanent.

So that call sounds on the corners, in the rallying spaces, and out in the streets; and it leads each and every artist to the inevitable questions:

Are you listening?

Will you answer?

Sharia Benn: How you handle communities of color that come to your show, how you greet us in the lobby areas, you’ve got to be in touch with your own biases and just opening your doors and saying, “We’re going to discount tickets because we want all communities to come.” Things like that, I’m like, “What makes you think we can’t afford the tickets? Why do you think it’s the ticket price that stops Black folks from coming from in our community?”

Yura Sapi: You are listening to Building Our Own Tables, a podcast produced for HowlRound Theatre Commons, a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide. I’m your host, Yura Sapi, and I’m the founder of various organizations and projects, including a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, a six-hectare farm and food sovereignty project, an LGBTQ+ healing and art space. And I’ve helped numerous creatives, leaders, and other founders unleash their excellence into the world through my programs, workshops, and coaching services.

In this podcast, I’m showcasing the high vibration solutions for you as a visionary leader to implement into your own practice and thrive. Stay tuned this season to hear from other founders who have built their own tables for their communities and for the world in this evolutionary time on earth. You are here for a reason and I am so honored and grateful to support you on your journey, so stay tuned and enjoy.

“Why do you all need your own theatre company?” Imagine being said that. Or maybe it sounds familiar to you. This is what Sharia Benn and I get into in today’s episode, diving into the history, present moment, and future manifesting of Sankofa African American Theatre Company. Imagine someone questioning the importance of theatre companies that are founded, created, owned by Black, indigenous, and people of color. This is exactly why the Building Our Own Tables podcast exists because we are showcasing the impacts, the benefits, that so many have experienced from being able to create our own spaces, not only because of the business context. When you look at what it means to have a Black-owned business, a Latina-owned business, an Indigenous-owned business, Middle Eastern-owned companies. When we really look at beyond the business case, which it is—we know we see minority women-owned business certifications that a lot of the for-profit industry works off of and really is able to uplift in terms of what it means to be supporting these companies and the impact that it can make on our communities.

Beyond the business side of it all, a lot of us, if not all of us, really, who do this type of work of creating our own organizations are also driven by a larger vision and calling to really affect change through the work of our representation, not only on stage, but in the different aspects of production, in the way that audiences are affected, changing the funding models, donors, designers, and directors, and all of the people that are a part of making an arts event happen. That’s why this podcast is so important because we’re really gathering this coalition of individuals who are making a collective impact through our individual local work.

In today’s episode, we dive into this with Sharia. We discuss some of these frustrating, challenging aspects of doing something that no one has done before. We discuss the challenges of stereotypes of limiting beliefs, of conditioning of society, and some ways that you might overcome them if you start to feel them creep in and become a part of who you are. And it was just such an inspiring, uplifting conversation that really helps us bring forth the power of what it is we’re doing in this act of building our own tables of creating our own spaces and having agency in a local, national, and even international conversation around what it means to be a person of color producing, creating, leading in communities and spaces in countries where the dominant is not that, where the power has been held in different spaces for so long.

It’s such an honor to introduce you or further offer a platform for you to get to know Sharia Benn, founder of Sankofa African American Theatre Company, which exists to engage and enrich the Harrisburg, Pennsylvania region around African American perspectives on these relevant issues of the human experience through thought-provoking theatre that reflects the same artistic excellence. Sharia has been working on something big in this very specific community of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. It’s just so exciting to get to spotlight and understand more about her journey, kind of pulling back the curtain a bit on some of the very real life truths of what it means to build these types of movements of change.

I know you’re going to be inspired. I know you’ll get gems of wisdom and I’m so excited to hear what you think. So definitely check in in the comments, post a rating, write reviews, and let’s keep this discussion open because this is really the work. We are all here together making this real. Most of all, enjoy this episode.

Before we get into this episode, go ahead and hit subscribe on this podcast. This is the best way to stay updated on new episodes and it helps build a thriving planet where all beings experience joy and harmony with each other and Mother Earth. So go ahead and hit subscribe and keep this good energy flowing.

Welcome to the podcast, Sharia. Thank you so much for being here.

Sharia: Thank you so much for having me. I am honored to come to the table and talk to you, so thank you.

Yura: Yeah, such a amazing table today to feature Sankofa African American Theatre Company. I am starting off this season checking in with folks to hear about your origin story. So tell us about what is that pivotal moment that really led you to go ahead and forge your own path and build your own table?

Sharia: So my origin story is really based in the lack of representation that I encountered when I moved to Harrisburg from Baltimore. So I came to Harrisburg a little over twenty-five years ago, and I came for a job. In Baltimore, I worked in the insurance industry. When I would get off from work, I’d be able to go and experience theatre as an audience member and also participate in it as an actor, so whether it was community theatre or the many other professional theatres and cultural outlets, and I was included, and I saw me.

When I moved to Harrisburg for a promotion, I came into this place where it’s the capital of Pennsylvania. And when I would get off from work, there wasn’t anything that connected with me to do culturally or in the theatre space. After years and years, I found one opportunity and it took me to this theatre company that was doing a February piece. I auditioned, I got in. And after that, every February they would do a piece, an August Wilson piece. So they wanted to do the August Wilson cycle. This was a white theatre company. Every year the Black cast would come together and in the green room talk about, “We should have more of this.” And after seven years of talking about it, “Let’s stop talking and let’s do it because we are worthy of theatre and representation outside of February.”

That really was the pivotal moment when I just said, “Let’s do it.” And I didn’t even know what it was. I just knew that it was time to move and stop talking. I really would say the spirit of Sankofa swooped down and turned on its wings, that mythical bird, and said, “You know what? I’ve got you. You just hold on and we will fly to together.” That was the pivotal moment for me.

Yura: Wow, that’s beautiful. So that was seven years with an idea of something kind of brewing. How long has it been since that moment now?

Sharia: Seven years.

Yura: Oh wow.

Sharia: There is significance in numbers. Seven is the number of completion. Eight for me is the number associated with new birth. So we’ve been a theatre company, Sankofa African American Theatre Company, going into our seventh year. It’s taken seven years for us to gain credibility, trust in the community. It was all the things that I’ve learned on the business side in insurance, in my positions and career span. I was able to bring into the creation and the birthing of Sankofa.

So starting with intent and mission and vision down to our name, Sankofa. Coming from Baltimore, I thought everyone knew what Sankofa was. When we first started, others in our founding committee are like, “What is Sankofa?” They were leaning towards naming the company things like Voices of Color and I step back and say, “No, I want to be very intentional about who we are.” And so thus it is not only just Sankofa, but it’s Sankofa African American Theatre company. We could have been Sankofa Theatre or just Sankofa. I knew that it was a risk because every time I write Sankofa African American Theatre Company on a grant application or request for sponsorship, there is no doubt of our identity. And forming the company prior to Floyd and We See You, White Theatre and those movements, it was a calculated risk, but it was also about trust and being true to our mission and vision of representation and highlighting and focusing on African American culture, experience, history. It was really important for us seven years ago to start that journey and be the only African American dedicated theatre company in this space.

Yura: Yeah. Can you share more about some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced and how you’ve been able to overcome them or maybe reframe their understanding as something else beyond a challenge?

Sharia: Yeah. When we first… The idea was getting out because by this time I had started to work as an actor in a lot of the theatre spaces here. So when I say a lot, there are really three major ones in Harrisburg. So the question came up with, “Why do you all need your own theatre company?”

Yura: You all?

I want you to see my color and my culture and I want to be in charge. Our community should be in charge of handling our stories so that we can tell them well and that we can bring the beauty and the joy of our culture to the stage and to the community.

Sharia: I said, “Because you asked that question.” That’s the answer. The theatre’s spaces here aren’t doing our stories and, “We’ll just do more Black theatre. We’ll do some colorblind casting and that will give you representation.” I said, “No, I want you to see my color and my culture and I want to be in charge. Our community should be in charge of handling our stories so that we can tell them well and that we can bring the beauty and the joy of our culture to the stage and to the community.” That was the first challenge, really questioning, “Why do you all… You really don’t need your own agency. You don’t need to own this. We can continue to tell your stories and own them. We’ll just do more of them. And that equates to representation.” No. Sankofa’s model. We don’t have a physical space, and that was by design, one, for sustainability.

Getting funding for any nonprofit, any new organization is difficult. Being a BIPOC organization is near impossible. I also recognize that the work here is in existing spaces. And when I talk about that work, the theatre audience in this community was 98 percent white. The work was really going into those spaces, to those audiences and using theatre as a vehicle to engage around African American culture and history. They are in community when we do theatre like they would not have been if we weren’t in these spaces. So it’s not even just going into these spaces physically and doing shows, but actually going into spaces and working with the directors and executives, the administrators in these theatre spaces and saying, “Hey, look, this is what it really means to be inclusive, to foster belonging. It’s not just about colorblind casting.”

Doing the work with those creatives so that they make their spaces inclusive, safe, and respectful for BIPOC creatives. We’ve been successful in doing that by collaborating, meaningful collaborations where Sankofa and the theatre that we’re collaborating with, we jointly own everything, all the production costs, the revenue from the box, the work that’s done, but they also allow me to come in and handle very carefully, lovingly, truthfully, the story. It’s been a unique and gratifying, but really tough journey because there are people in this space, white people who believe they already know that they’re open and that they are inclusive, but we aren’t coming.

“BIPOC people just don’t come to our shows. They’re not auditioning. “ So it’s changing mindsets and transforming and opening eyes and spirits and hearts and saying, “We would come if you invited us and invited us well, that it wasn’t empty and open and it feels unsafe.” So that’s where the work for the last seven years really has been in helping this community of primarily white theatre spaces understand Blackness and what needs to happen to bring us into their spaces and to tell our stories well.

When Sankofa does productions, our audiences are now almost 50/50, white, people of color, multi-generational, and that is the beauty when you see the work that we’re doing is taking hold in the community. We’re in spaces and touching lives, transforming lives that would not have happened had Sankofa not been here and operating the model that we have.

Yura: That’s an incredible story. It’s just so inspiring and it really brings along the possibilities because we’re talking about theatre, but you’re using it as one example of so many aspects of our world, of our concerns and both on the stage when we’re talking about seeing our stories and seeing the human experience, but also when you look at this business aspect, a theatre company of having a business as people of color, as Black indigenous people of color. Yeah, when you said that comment about this resistance to, “Why do you need to start a business? Why do you need to start a company? Why do you have to own it? Why do you have to be separate?,” just that initial question seems to come from a place of fear because it’s not this question of “What can we do to help?” or “That’s great. Yeah, come join. Do you need any support?” There’s a different response there that could have been.

And so I think, yeah, just uplifting what you’re saying about noticing clear challenges, shifting these perspectives and shifting these understandings of what is possible. And it’s about the artists on stage, the actors, but it doesn’t stop there at all. It’s about the audiences, it’s about the donors, it’s about the people who are running the organization and all of the other people that could eventually be a part of it. There’s this large scale transformation that’s going on that you’re getting to do in a specific community that also is this portal, this offering, this opportunity to then share what you’re doing for many other groups that can be doing this in their local space. And then ultimately we’re all coming together and sharing this in a larger kind of movement of change. Yeah, I just want to affirm that you’re doing amazing work.

Sharia: Yeah, I love that. When you said portal, that really spoke to me. And also that this is a business venture. So for me, part of my origin story is—I did not go to school for theatre. Theatre is my outlet. It was like people go to the gym. If I could go into that theatre space and see a play or be cast in something, that was the way for me to process and get through life.

So part of the origin story for me is I didn’t have an MFA. I don’t have an MFA. I don’t have a degree in theatre. I bring what I’ve learned on the stage, what I’ve learned living in life, what I’ve learned in corporate America. I just bring it. I’ve learned that if I don’t have it, it’s in me though. I was feeling afraid. I was feeling fearful. I was feeling “this is a territorial waters that I should not go in and navigate because I am not equipped because I don’t have what they have, I don’t have the credentials that they have and the norms say I should have in order to do this work.” And what divine and innately and then ancestrally was placed in me was: you got to go beyond that because what you are going to do, what you have been created to do, it hasn’t been done.

So you can’t credential something that hasn’t existed. And that’s how innovators, inventors, and foragers work. Don’t rely on what an institution says you should have to give credibility to the work that you are doing or going to do. That’s been something that I’ve shared with people, especially Black indigenous people of color who have not had access to school or funding.

When I grew up, going to school for theatre was a luxury, and my parents were like, “Oh, no. Yes, we know that you’re talented, but you need to go to school and get something that’s going to earn you a living because that theatre and arts, it’s just for fun.” I have taken that and used that as a learning opportunity and also as what I share with other people that, “You know what…” And what we should do is that theatre can be, should be, and it is essential. All of the creatives that are out there, especially, not especially but creatives, human beings, but really I focus on the BIPOC actors, should make a living wage. Your work should be valued, you should be paid. And part of our guiding principles is that Sankofa will pay you more than the other theatres. We got a lot community theatres or theatres that don’t pay the actors. The creatives do it because they love the art, but for even when we do something and our actors expect, they’re like, “Oh, what? You’re going to pay me to do this?” Absolutely.

When it comes to raising funds and writing grants and doing appeals, I don’t do as much work as I would love to do because of that guiding principle. So if it means we can only do two works or three works, and I don’t even have a season, I’m like, “I’m not going to be locked into a season,” I am going to move forward because this is life-changing work. Emergency rooms and hospitals and other places don’t have a season of when they treat people, when they make them better. They’re there so when people show up, wounded, hurt and need to be resuscitated, they can respond. So that’s what we’re doing. It can vary non-traditional, but sustaining, giving life-sustaining work to the human beings that are doing it, but also our culture and our history.

Yura: Yeah. Yeah, so much powerful offerings. I actually do want to go back to that practice of being able to notice when there’s a limiting belief coming into our mind. So for example, something that maybe we’ve heard from, like you said, an institution or our parents or our conditioning of how we ended up where we are. I love being able to go identify that when that’s coming up and then go ahead and see how can I respond to that with self-compassion? How can I actually change the narrative? And when I say I love to do this, I love it when it’s done. It doesn’t always mean that it’s something enjoyable in the moment because it doesn’t necessarily feel possible, yet maybe.

But yeah, I’ve been learning more about the way stereotypes work and that actually when you’re in a place where a lot of people are holding a specific belief, a stereotype for example around you, that there’s actually this effect of taking it on just from what everyone else is thinking. And so you can internalize it. And one of the top things that you could do in those moments is to notice that it’s happening. Notice that you’ve actually started to believe and find the ways to really separate yourself from the fact that other people’s thoughts are coming into yours and really find that grounding in your affirmations, in your understanding of a different story.

So whether that’s having a really strong, for example, meditation practice, having ways in which you’re putting up an energetic boundary when needing to be around these spaces or finding out what is it that you want to replace with these toxic thoughts that are coming through and maybe toxic people for specifically what you’re trying to do. What are the power thoughts that you want to replace that with? What are the power people that you want to be surrounding yourself with?

So it can be difficult especially when you haven’t seen other things. So I know for me, a huge important part of my journey was actually going to Ecuador in Colombia where I also hold citizenship and just experiencing the world from a different country, from a different experience, different language that I was speaking. And so that really allowed me to open my mind and body up to a different way of being and knowing that there is actually a lot that we might think that is set in stone that is completely open and that really everything is possible.

Sharia: Yes, I so identify with that. One of the experiences and things that I came to realize is that because I’ve been so conditioned and also my personality is one that I want peace, I conform, that’s part of who I am and that’s what makes me great. It makes me a good facilitator and collaborator when I’m operating in those things in a strength mode coming from a place of strength and awareness.

So as I was going along on this path, I wasn’t even aware of when I was allowing and being a portal for all of those negative thoughts and all of those stereotypes. All of those biases were coming in and I didn’t realize how I was processing it. So a strategy that I have is to align myself with and surround myself, almost create this barrier and shield with people who I trust, who I’ve been able to share and become very vulnerable about my strengths and my weaknesses and my personality’s strengths and things that would not help me be my fullest because it’s who I am and it’s a part of my psyche and also my experiences and what I was told, and they know all of these things.

So it’s almost like they act as interpreters and I have them with me in these spaces. They have license. I have given them license because we have a relationship in the trust to say, “Oh, you’re operating in, you let that in. I saw how something that was said or done triggered you and you are now operating in this path that is not your strongest. Oh, did you hear when that was said or did you know that you received that into your psyche?” So it’s really important to surround yourself with people who can help because you don’t always hear it. You don’t always know it. And that helps. It’s just operating in community, and that’s what I love.

One of the things I love about doing this work, you develop this community. And then in turn, I am that for others. It’s this continuum of moving, affirming, protecting and just helping each other in this circle, birth our greatness, birth the possibilities. I love from For Colored Girls, there’s a heart in there in one of the monologues. “Let her be born. Let her be born and handled warmly.”

Yura: Yeah.

Sharia: We’re doulas. Let me be born and then handle me as a human being. Because human beings, we are warm blooded. Yeah.

Yura: That’s beautiful. I keep seeing this image of seedlings because I also am a farmer, a gardener, and—

Sharia: Love it.

Yura: Yeah, I’m just thinking about these seeds, especially now at least here in the northeast where I’m currently calling, there’s this time of sowing the seed and planting the seeds and letting them grow. There’s so much that we can do to really set those seeds up for success for growth. Whether it’s the soil, it’s the sunlight, it’s the potting, it’s the time with the moon when we plant it, all these things that can go into play that we can really be intentional about. And so I definitely think when we are considering our leadership, it’s about change. It’s about we’re trying to really make a change. And change can be very difficult to do. And so we want to be really intentional about that and know what is it we’re saying to different people at different moments? Who are we letting in?

And so it’s this energy of what are we feeding this dream with. We don’t want to just put the seedling out to anywhere in the street and people will step on it. So there’s that intentional offering of saying, “I’m going to be selective about who I’m sharing this seed with to help grow.” And for me, recently, it’s really been a beautiful awakening to me of this world of coaching, which I think it’s something that has always happened and now it’s becoming more of an industry because of the time of transformation. When we’re transforming, it’s really helpful to have coaches. It’s really helpful to have people who are carrying of our seeds in this way. I’ve been trained and certified as a coach now.

As a client, as someone receiving coaching, you get to receive this supportive energy of someone who is 100 percent believing in your dreams because they’ve also experienced them and have seen the power of making goals happen. That can be such a game changer. Maybe you’ve been surrounding yourself by people who don’t believe that your specific dream or goal is possible just because of their own conditioning and their own understanding, and that’s actually really what might be holding you back from making it real because you’re not around anybody who believes that it’s real, who can tell you, “This is the way that it can happen,” or “Here are some examples,” or “Here are some things you can do to move forward in the direction of your goal.”

Sharia: That was one of the best things I’ve done to invest in my self-care is get a wellness coach. And in this process, learning the difference between a counselor and a coach. My coach is my cheerleader saying, “Okay, you own this. And I’m coming and walking beside you to help you get to your goals and then also process things like what might be holding you back or what can you do.” It’s just this constant challenge. We just need that challenge of rethink that or imagine the possibly. Who are you and how do you become your fullest self and how do you take care of yourself? How do you breathe? How are you eating? How are you existing in all of this as opposed to living with roles that weren’t formed for me to be my fullest?

I was hesitant at first. I want to do this. It’s another thing I have to add into my schedule and my budget, but it has been one of the best investments and it uplifts me and my business. So that’s a really great thing. Thank you for being a certified coach and helping people become their best, but also aware of where you are in the spaces that you are, because again, we’re multifaceted, we’re intersectional. All of those things. So many layers of youth.

For me with Sankofa, I’m constantly processing a need to be aware of who I am as an individual in relation to the institution of theatre, of arts and all of the other institutions in this artistic space, my commitment as an individual, as Sankofa, as an institution to my community. And who is my community? My community is layered. And who do I owe and what do I owe? So it’s these constant conversations that my coach and those that are in my inner circle are constantly having. It’s intentional.

Everything that I do, it’s with thought and intention and it helps me along this path. Down to seeing myself as the guardian of a legacy, I am creating this. I didn’t choose this path. The path chose me. I am very aware that I am creating this company. I’m starting this to hand it off. I am the first leg in the relay race and I’ve got the baton. I ran track when I was in high school and I’m just…

Yura: Me too.

Sharia: … digging in. Yeah, I am the first leg and I am digging in. And I am making sure that I do the fastest time so that when I hand that baton off, there is a lead, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m creating this.

One of the things in our community that’s happening, we have a lot of talent, but it’s not mined. So people don’t even know they have talent because they don’t have opportunities. But when they do, they leave and they never come back. We mine the talent. So we meet people where they are. Literally, come as you are and then we’ll find a place for you because there is a place for everybody in Sankofa. We think about this as work on stage or you’re an actor. Or at most we might say, you’re in tech, you do the light. No, I need everyone who knows numbers. If you like numbers, there’s a place for you here. There’s our treasurer, there’s our back office, there’s our box. Whatever you have been created to do whatever gifts and talents you have, I need you to come. So that’s what we’re doing.

And then I’d say, I need you to go. Wherever it is, go and get it. Go and learn it. And then I need you to come back. That’s the power and the principle of Sankofa. Go back and claim and get everything that is part of you, your story, your history. Get it, claim it. Bring it into your present so that you can own it, you can reckon with it so that you can learn from it. And then you can move forward with power and purpose.

That’s what I’m doing in this theatre company. It’s not only the stories that we tell. We found a niche where we are telling very significant and impactful stories in our community along with we have a great cannon of work to pull from, which was another challenge. People say, “There’s not going to be enough work. How much work is out there that’s going to sustain seasons of this?” Again, it’s coming as you are, finding and nurturing who you were created to be and then leaving and coming back better than when you ever first encountered me or Sankofa. Claim it.

Yura: Are you ready to step into who you were born to be? As a certified soul purpose or dharma and spiritual life coach, I am so ready to guide you in this powerful transformation of your life. As a successful social entrepreneur, social innovator, I am so excited to support others along this journey, because ultimately, when we all thrive in our respective communities, our impact really multiplies exponentially. And it brings me so much joy to help creators and leaders like you unleash your incredible talents, skills, and destiny of who you’re meant to be for our planet in this time.

I get to bring together all of my training in business and arts management, the climate justice sector, and healing and shamanic energy work to really bring you into alignment.

In my three-month coaching program, instead of thinking only of the worst case scenario, we bring in the energy of the best case scenario. We address what is holding you back. What are those toxic habits, people, and thoughts that are really stopping you from making this future version of yourself and of the world that you’re calling in impossible? We’ll address them, heal them, and alchemize this energy into something that is useful for you.

We’ll dive into your soul purpose, and this is such an important and sacred aspect of the process to know who you are, to know more about your passion, to know what is it that you are meant to be doing right now. Then we move into integration helping you create a strategic plan and understanding of how this vision will become real in the next weeks to month to years.

I’m ready to help you unlock these codes and manifest your abundant success where you reach all of your dreams and beyond. I’m so excited for you and the amazing positive impact you’re going to be making on this world. You are such a powerful leader and I’m so excited to support you. So go ahead and check out my coaching services at liberarteinc.org and you can find the link in the show notes as well. Talk to you soon.

So we talked about the pre-seven years, the seven years just passed. What about the seven years coming forth? What are you working on in these next seven years? What really interests me is, what are the challenges of the industry that are frustrating you the most and then the work that you’re doing to overcome them?

If we get one person in that audience to see us in a different manner and perspective…if they hire someone because of something they’ve seen on a Sankofa stage or part of a Sankofa engagement, we’ve transformed a whole life, a whole family. 

Sharia: Great question, because there is a lot that frustrates me. And if I had to group it in a category, it’s inequity, injustice, a disregard for the sanctity of BIPOC culture and experience, the lack of commitment to and recognition of how significant race and culture contributes to in developing, constructing the things that we do in the theatre space. The shows that we perform, it just frustrating this notion that theatre companies, primarily white theatre companies, can’t get around in terms of representation, thinking that colorblind casting is acceptable. That’s the work that they have to do. No, there is trauma there. If you are going to bring people of color into your spaces, you just can’t insert a human being who does not have the same experience and has come from such a traumatic and violent and inequitable history background.

It’s in our DNA. And it’s not for that human being to change. It’s for you and your institutions to change even how you direct and how you approach the work that you do, how you market your work, how you handle communities of color that come to your show, how you greet us in the lobby areas, what you think. You’ve got to be in touch with your own biases and just opening your doors and saying, “We’re going to discount tickets because we want all communities to come.” Things like that, I’m like, “What makes you think we can’t afford the tickets? Why do you think it’s the ticket price that stops Black folks from coming from in our community?” Just constantly having to challenge the existing status quo in the theatres. It’s frustrating. But it’s also, I understand it’s the work that I’ve taken on and it’s what I’ve created to do.

We just keep having the conversations and call it out. And also do it in a way where I’ve learned and I know the people I’m working with because I want to get results. It’s less about how combative or confrontational I was and more about “I need to get the results.” I need to get the results. Not my personality to be combative. It’s more, again, collaborative, also being truthful in that and knowing when it’s not going to work and when to quit. That’s another part of this.

So some things I just have to say, “I’m not going to continue doing this work with this entity because there has been no change and no desire to change.” This is soul work that we’re doing. We’re saving lives. Because if we get one person in that audience to see us in a different manner and perspective, that one person, if they hire someone because of something they’ve seen on a Sankofa stage or part of a Sankofa engagement, we’ve transformed a whole life, a whole family. If they are in the room with decision-makers and funders and all of those people there, if I have one person who’s in authority that doesn’t pull over someone because they’ve been profiling them, but now they understand the story and the truth, we’ve saved the life. That’s soul work. That’s what we’re doing.

Yura: Yeah, I’m very interested in that work with my organization, LiberArte, because we talk about doing racial, social, and climate justice through the arts. And our vision is this thriving planet where all beings experience joy and harmony with each other and Mother Earth. And for me, really, the core problem that I’m experiencing for the world is this disconnection. So we’ve experienced a disconnection to ourselves, to each other, and to the earth. We look at all of the world’s problems. If we were actually genuinely connected in right relation in this feeling of harmony with each other and joy, we wouldn’t have these types of clashes and misunderstandings and violence, all these things that are happening both with humans and with the earth and to ourselves too, because ultimately when you look at what it means to hate someone else, it’s really a reflection of what one hates within themselves.

So for me, that’s really where the arts can unlock a key. And I think it’s something that we as humans knew, but now in these later thousands of years, it seems that we’ve lost that connection to the power of what it means to be in community and gathering in spaces where we can really see each other and be with the earth.

And so I’m definitely very curious about what you’re talking about in terms of the ways in which we can really measure our impact and our results, because there are ways that people have created to measure sustainability standards in being able to say, “These certain practices will eventually help you stop things like flooding or oil spills.” And so there’s a way that then it also translates to this understanding of it’s going to affect your business, the money that’s made. This type of saying, these are the ways that the arts is affecting real time change in terms of how people are able to, after an experience of seeing each other, connecting with each other, connecting with themselves, connecting with the earth, which is why I love to do outdoor events as well, that we actually see shifts happening for our community in the world in terms of shifts of perspectives, shifts of tracking, of different instances of clashes, of violence, of encounters with the police and this type of disharmonious situations.

I think the other thing that we are overlooking is the power of joy, the power of awe, the power of gratitude and laughter. I think people know about it in different ways. There are maybe disparate studies out there around how humor breaks tension. And when you start off a meeting with gratitude, it just brings in a whole other energy. And so there’s definitely ways that we can start to really make this larger case for support around how the arts, the gateway that we haven’t tried, that the politicians aren’t really focusing on when it comes to things like climate change or racial justice.

It’s almost like sometimes I feel it’s a kind of add-on. Or we have an event where we’re talking about climate justice or we’re talking about racial justice, and then there’s also a performance happening, or there’s also an event that everyone goes to and it’s an add-on, but we’re not actually seeing how… And you can even experience it though, maybe you’re at this event and they have conversations and then a performance happens. And then there’s conversations again. The second time the conversations are actually more dynamic and people are more open and people are really connecting. And I think there’s an opportunity there to really say, “Why did that happen?” This is why it happened. What if we keep investing in this? What if we keep uplifting the importance of the arts and everyone that’s a part of it, which are the artists and the art producers and the creators and everyone that is a part of making that happen. Yeah, this is something that I’m definitely very excited about, and what I’m looking towards is a big solution for it.

Sharia: Yeah. I think you’re right on. Last year, Sankofa, myself, we were part of a collaborative with journalists who were doing research and studies around climate justice, climate solutions. And so we had this cohort of journalists. It was really a journalistic project. But our cohort, they bought in me. And okay, and I’m thinking, I love the conversations. I know there’s work for us to do around the climate, and we were all trying to figure out what was Sankofa’s in this, and I said, “I’m here to learn. I’m also here to help you as journalists reach a community that you otherwise would not be able to reach and are not interested in. But in this community, brown and Black folks are highly impacted by this.” What ended up happening, it was a two-year project, but I took the stories that they researched and they wrote and they published and created theatrical piece, bringing all those stories together, but also our community. Giving that a life and an audience who would not read those pieces or felt that this impacted them.

We put on this production for a weekend. It was very well received. But what was really important about that is continuing the conversation. So Sankofa, we have a talkback or a post-show discussion with every performance. When I look at the matrix, so I’m always thinking about what are the performance or the key indicators of success that we are making inroads, that we’re making a difference? And I haven’t come up with anything except talking to people, but also being able to talk to the same people.

So over seven years, I’ve been able to engage with many people, the same people over and talk to them over and over. So basically you end up having more or less a listening session And those people, they’re telling you, they’re showing you the change, the outcomes. They keep coming back, and now they have more questions. And they’re linking the first time they came into the space and engaged with Sankofa to now they’re here and they’re sharing, “Oh, this is how it’s impacted me. A year ago, two years ago, five years ago, this is where I was, and this is what I saw on stage. This is what I experienced coming into the space that Sankofa was inhabiting, and this is where I am now.”

Those are human story, metrics. And also if we want to do an analysis and some analytics on it, I’m looking at the people that keep coming back and they’re leaving with actionable items. So I am like, “This is my call to action for this production. Now you come back and you tell me what you’ve done.” That’s how I’ve been able to gauge the metrics that I’m using, because numbers don’t tell the full story. People tell the full story.

Yura: Wow. Yeah. I have this vision of the support that we could receive. All of the Building Our Own Tables podcast guests, all these incredible theatre leaders who have started these amazing organizations that are centering different people of color across the US, across the world sometimes, and I just see that this is a coalition that is being built through this podcast space because I think there’s something there around really all of our collective data, qualitative and quantitative, and just really being able to say, “This is the impact that we’ve been able to have and that we are continuing to have.” I see the opportunity of being able to come together in that type of way and go ahead and present something together and saying, “This is what we’ve done and this is what we can do if you keep funding, if you keep supporting what we’re doing.”

Sharia: It’s an investment. It really is. Going back to frustrations, “Why does our work, why is it not seen as an investment with a high return on that investment?” And other work, other companies are funded and it’s okay if they don’t break even. It’s okay. But our work is not funded. We clearly are having impact, positive impact on our community and on the human psyche and the human being aspects of it, how we qualify and quantitate that. It’s just, I’d love the idea of all of us coming together and here is the compelling story and the statistics. Our work matters, and we are doing it against incredible odds. What we have to work with, I look at even the cost of our productions and how we do things. And then I see other budgets and what they project to do the same thing, and I’m like, “Man, we are resourceful and resilient people,” but that is not enough and it’s not equitable to expect us to continue to operate with this.

But the greatness is we do, also, our models and our work are being copied. Those that copy, and okay, yes, that’s a great compliment, but they’re not able to achieve the same results. So they come back and they’re like, “Hey, what makes this different?” I’m like, “What we do, it’s for us to do. Now you would have more impact if you join with me to do this and not create or take. Haven’t you learned that we are brilliant and that we are strong and you’re already living off of our work?” So that’s a whole other path to go down, but those are the things that are frustrating. And the answer, the response to that is, “Show me. Show me the numbers. Show me your results.” When we try to get funding, those are the challenges. So bring us all together as a collective. Keep moving ahead and lifting each other up in this work that we’re doing. We’re guardians of the legacy.

Yura: On that note, wow, what an incredible conversation. This was such an honor. Time flew by.

Sharia: Yes.

Yura: So how can we get in touch with Sankofa African American Theatre Company? What do you have on next?

Sharia: I would love for people to go to sankofatheatrehbg.com, and sign up for our newsletter and look at the work we’ve done. You can follow us at Sankofa Theatre on Facebook, on the Gram. If you’re listening and you are in the Harrisburg or Maryland, New Jersey, New York, DC area, we have our next production, Intimate Apparel by Lynn Nottage. It’s a new partnership that I have with one of the major theatres. We’re going to be collaborating to do this work. I am so excited. It opens June the 14th. It will run through the end of the month. We’re forging new paths, really doing things in our theatre community around respecting the individual, using resources like certified intimacy directors, bringing in and respecting traditions, meditation, and bringing all of those things into the space and making our bodies, our souls, and the work that we do as an offering to our community. So I’m excited about that.

Yura: Amazing, amazing work. Thank you so much, Sharia.

Sharia: Thank you.

Yura: Thank you for being on this podcast. It’s been such a joy.

Sharia: Oh, thank you so much for all the work that you’re doing. It matters and it’s reaching. I’ve learned so much from all of the creators who have come to the table, so thank you for your work.

Yura: This podcast is produced as a contribution to HowlRound Theatre Commons. You can find more episodes of this show and other HowlRound shows wherever you find podcasts. Be sure to search with the keyword HowlRound and subscribe to receive new episodes. If you love this podcast, post a rating and write a review on those platforms. You can also find a transcript for this episode along with a lot of other progressive and disruptive content on howlround.com. Have an idea for an exciting podcast, essay, or TV event the theatre community needs to hear? Visit howlround.com and submit your idea to this digital commons.

Join us for an evening celebrating the life and work of the late playwright and director René Pollesch who died unexpectedly at age 61. New York theatre artist Matt Gasda and his ensemble from the Brooklyn Center for Theatre Research will be joined by David Levine for readings of two Pollesch plays Heidi Hoh, translated by Rose Riggs, and Insourcing …, translated by David Tushingham.

Readings in English followed by a panel with Matt Gasda, David Levine, and others. Moderated by Frank Hentschker.

“René Pollesch, a prolific playwright and stage director whose work—intellectually serious yet irreverent, chatty, goofy and riddled with pop-culture references—made him one of the most significant forces in German theater of the past three decades, died on Monday in Berlin. He studied under Andrzej Wirth and Hans-Thies Lehmann at the legendary Institute for Applied Theatre Studies in Gießen, Germany. He was 61. His sudden death was announced by the Volksbühne am Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz theater, where he had been artistic director since 2021. Pollesch wrote roughly 200 plays and directed virtually all of them himself, often at leading theaters in the German-speaking world. But while his plays lit up stages in places like Stuttgart, Hamburg, Vienna and Zurich, he was most closely associated with the Volksbühne, a publicly funded playhouse in what once was East Berlin that had a reputation for making daring and provocative theater.” (A.J. Goldmann, New York Times)

Special thanks to Nils Tabert, head of Rowohlt Theater Verlag, Germany. With the support and in cooperation with the Goethe-Institute New York, Jörg Schumacher.

Matthew Gasda is a playwright and director and the founder of the Brooklyn Center for Theater Research (BCTR). His first collection, Dimes Square and Other Plays, is available from Applause and his next collection Zoomers and Other Plays will be released in 2025. His newest play, Morning Journal, has just begun its run at the BCTR.

David Levine is an OBIE and Guggenheim-award winning director and visual artist. His work has been covered by Frieze, Artforum, and The New York Times, and his writing has appeared in n+1, Theater, and Parkett. He is Professor of the Practice of Performance, Theater and Media at Harvard University, and the author, with Shonni Enelow, of A Discourse on Method, published by 53rd State Press. His holographic film, Dissolution, premiered at the Museum of the Moving Image last October.

Talking Band seems to me the perfect name for a company whose unadorned language and household instrumentation allow the musicality of words, spoken and sung, to reverberate. This homespun ensemble alternates leads. Paul and Ellen are both playwrights plus. And while the company’s canon has a recognizable stamp, as writers they each conjure worlds that both incorporate the other’s sensibilities and remain distinctly their own.

As a performer and director, Paul has honed his work to its essence—utterly natural, though never “naturalistic” or behavioral in the way of much American acting. No movement or mannerism wasted. Paul the playwright has created his own particular style of music-theatre—mythic and contemporary, lush and quotidian, literate and accessible. A master of theatrical epiphany, he stands in anguished wonder at the world, finding moments of rare beauty in the everyday—watering a garden, opening a refrigerator, sugaring tea. It’s not a sentimental pose; it’s an active one, mixing curiosity, affection, and horror, the way characters in his Fata Morgana, on a pleasure cruise to inevitable disaster, intuit the world’s majesty at the instant their death looms.

SOPHIA: Look how beautiful it is. So clean and clear. The sea is transformed—tremendous diamonds refracting rainbows of light. How beautiful it is to be alive here. How terrible it is that we will die here. It’s like a diorama of ice floes and sea lions at the Natural History Museum […]And the painted water is moving all around us[…]and perhaps in the distance there is the smoke of a ship coming to rescue us.

A rough theatre magician, Paul targets the infinite with raw historical materials: a nineteenth-century theatre troupe portraying the Lewis and Clark expedition in Bitterroot or, in Star Messengers, daffy commedia dell ‘arte entr’actes about Renaissance scientists Galileo, Kepler, and Brahe. In search of mystery, he investigates science, divinity, the supernatural, and the hokey. Like romantic polymath William Blake, whom he portrays (stark) nakedly in Belize, Paul sees “the world in a grain of sand…” and strives to “hold infinity in the palm of your hands…”

The sublime, revelatory quality of his writing feels continuous with nineteenth century romanticism and transcendentalism. His language, though, like his acting style, is that of a late-modern, Beckettian world—concentrated, stripped clean. Even pared down, however, his phrases yearn toward awe, the fertile paradise encountered by explorers/despoilers Lewis and Clark in Bitterroot:

Some seek it in the poppy’s seed

Some in the nectar of the vine

Some in work, some in good deed

Some in bodies close entwined

So all seek Paradise

As with his early mentor Joe Chaikin, death has haunted much of Paul’s work from the beginning. He is a scientist and was training at Harvard Medical School before amour de théâtre. In his theatre lab he studies the poisons of the world: colonialism, racism, economic enslavement, political betrayal. He is a political writer in a lyric poet’s clothing.

The first time I saw Ellen Maddow in a play by Ellen Maddow, circa 1986, she was playing music on kitchen appliances. The play was Betty and the Blenders. Ellen was the aforementioned Betty, an avant-garde hausfrau as Smokey Robinson, backed not by the Miracles, but the Miracle Whips. Find a fork and a mixing bowl, play the wooden spoons, or line up the classic Oster beehive blenders, and you’ve got yourself an orchestra. In her oeuvre, people make music with mops in buckets or to the 6/8 rhythm of a bus’s windshield wipers. However strange this might sound to, say, your family in Ohio, it works every time. Einstein on the Hamilton Beach.

If Paul’s simple prose yearns toward the poetic, Ellen’s finds a poetry that is precisely prose. She knows, for example, the lyricism of the list. Her plays are full of them. Panic! Euphoria! Blackout is structured around lists. Based on a series of sixteenth-century Belgian paintings of money lenders, three clearly Jewish traders swap goods and then pack those goods away to make a diasporic escape. One of the traders, Rubin, prepares for the day’s business by moving objects as he names them, traversing time as he goes.

Rubin

A pair of shoes for a loaf of bread

Two sewing needles for a bowl of soup

A bail of hay for a gallon of cider

A bottle of beer for a ride into town

5 brown eggs for 3 cigarettes

12 silver coins for a week of work

A truckload of gravel for a Border Collie

60 goats for a teenage bride

Next year’s corn crop for a bar of gold

16 bucks for a sweater from Bangladesh

2,000 dollars for a Kate Spade handbag

As in her loft, where art, love, and family are inseparable, in the topsy-turvy Maddow-lands of Ellen’s plays, colleagues, friends, and family form a single circle. In Painted Snake in a Painted Chair, she dubs that group “our fuzzy cliquey cluster.” A doctor named Walter describes the magic of walking into a house belonging to a member of this friend-family:

How we show up like peach pits left on a plate and sprout and spread and intertwine. How our hair turns to leaves, how our mouths become fruit, how the furniture rumbles, the air turns electric […] when I come over here to meet my friends […] the roof pops off, the wind blows in, and I tumble and plunge, out of control, head over heels in the sweet unknown.

The Sanskrit word “sutra” comes from the root that means to sew, the line that holds things together. Ellen is a secret sew-er, unspooling the line that ties characters (us) to each other, in ways we don’t even notice. She is a tailor with the magical needle and thread, a Mama Sutra. 

One of the most joyful theatre experiences I had tiptoeing back into theatres as Covid waned in 2022 was TB’s production of Ellen’s Lemon Girls, directed by Paul at La Mama. The show centers on five women in their seventies, friends from Lemon Elementary school, who get roped into a performance art workshop “at the rec center! In the basement of the Mazuma Houses! Sponsored by Art for the Artless! Underwritten by the mayor! Snacks provided by the city council!” The friends begin cranky and dyspeptic, literally displaced by crowds of young professionals who’ve overrun their world. Their life together infiltrates their art until it’s hard to know where one ends and the other begins. And of course, this friend-family emerges fabulous—rocking their dances, interlocking stories, and songs. “Art for the Artless” (the play’s subtitle) indeed!

Although the pandemic remains perhaps the most significant challenge to the sector in the history of US theatre, we found that it presented a remarkable opportunity, in that lobbying worked. As the federal government began rolling out programs to address the acute economic crisis, theatres grappled with the complexities of applying for support imagined primarily for businesses. The Performing Arts Alliance (a coalition of performing arts advocates) worked tirelessly to ensure that nonprofits could apply for the Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) loans offered by the Small Business Administration (SBA)—loans that would be forgiven if organizations could prove that they had been used on payroll costs. The most important legislation to prop up the sector was the Shuttered Venue Operators Grant, operated by the SBA, which offered an unprecedented $16 billion, but focused on businesses rather than artists. Crucially, securing the extension of this urgent legislation to the nonprofit sector and its eventual passage required leaders to come together and pursue specific lobbying. This raises the question of whether, after the decades-long retreat in the aftermath of the culture wars of the nineties, theatre and the arts more broadly can now effectively make an argument for government support, in the wake of the pandemic.

We found that the challenges of the theatre sector in the United States are those of the society more generally: individualism and a dearth of collective endeavor; precarization of workers; decreased investment in the commons; political polarization; social isolation.

In short, we found that the challenges of the theatre sector in the United States are those of the society more generally: individualism and a dearth of collective endeavor; precarization of workers; decreased investment in the commons; political polarization; social isolation. We thus find it ever more urgent and important for the sector to think and operate as a sector, in a shared ecosystem. But this is no easy matter, given how varied that ecosystem is across an enormous national landscape.

We also see an opportunity now to make the case for theatre in relation to other post-pandemic revitalization efforts, including movements for social and racial justice, mental health, and the revitalization of urban cores. In fact, federal, state, and local arts service organizations are already making those arguments. The National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) is actively developing promising partnerships with other government agencies, including Health and Human Services and the Environmental Protection Agency. There have even been calls for reconceptualizing culture as infrastructure in order better to support it. A key question, then, is how these various efforts might be aggregated or multiplied for greater effectiveness.

Two key recommendations involve thinking strategically about multiplier effects:

Perhaps most urgent for companies is advocacy: it is key to build coalitions and common messaging to advocate for sustained investments from public and private resources. To expand advocacy and lobbying efforts at all levels, organizations should educate themselves about what activities are permitted to them, instead of assuming that they are not allowed to advocate for themselves. The sector’s unprecedented success in securing government support to weather the pandemic showed the importance of this work; now is the moment to embark on more energetic advocacy and lobbying at the federal, state, and local level.

Funders can also help build the ecosystem. Instead of just funding individual artists and companies, they can help the sector function as a sector by bringing people to the table; helping develop models for public/private partnerships; and funding the “multipliers”: research, service organizations, arts journalism. As conveners, enablers of new thinking, and powerful advocates for theatre, funders are poised to make an enormous difference in the resilience of theatre.

Two linked recommendations may be surprising to theatremakers and those who support their work—they were certainly among the most surprising for us in our research. We find that they are critical for thinking about resilience, for companies as well as for the funders and supporters who could help enable shared solutions:

Theatres must face up to the fact that the climate crisis is here, and impacting their work. 

First, climate resilience: 
We found that most of the thinking to date has been about how theatre can help advocate for climate action, or how companies’ operations might be made more sustainable. Instead, we suggest, theatres must face up to the fact that the climate crisis is here, and impacting their work. Already in this moment we need adaptation as well as advocacy.

Consider how quickly conditions are deteriorating: in summer 2022,  Michael Paulson wrote in the New York Times about raging wildfires in California impeding the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and how climate change was impacting the beloved tradition of summer outdoor performance. By summer 2023, he was writing about how smoke from massive wildfires in Canada had forced Broadway theatres in New York City, some four-hundred miles away, to cancel performances. The saving grace was that some of those theatres had installed air filtration systems during COVID that were making it possible, barely, for the show to go on—assuming patrons were willing to brave the air outside to get there.

In the past year, floods have forced cancellations in Los Angeles, California; New York; Vermont—the list is likely much longer. Unfortunately, companies can rarely call on alternate forms of delivery to salvage the performances.

Our strong recommendation is that theatres confront the fact that the climate catastrophe will lead to canceled performances and other disruptions to business as usual. Companies need to build climate resilience and decarbonization into their current organizational models and future goals. The time to prepare is now, whether by making contingency plans or purchasing a generator. 

Preparation also involves recognizing what we learned from the pandemic: digital platforms and other forms of outreach offer a crucial lifeline, one that would allow theatres to switch modes rather than entirely cancel performances. In addition to enabling performances in the event of a new health emergency, streaming theatre can also preserve vital access to culture and protect companies’ livelihoods amid the climate catastrophe.

This leads directly to our recommendations regarding digital platforms. In 2021, increasing audience accessibility was identified as one of the key ways to reimagine the industry in a survey of theatre’s essential workers. Yet despite frequent claims during the pandemic that the accessibility of digital theatre was a crucial advance, “Zoom fatigue” now rules the day, and most theatremakers emphasize their desire to be back in a room with audiences. There is very little streaming of existing productions now, much less continued experimentation in the digital space. Though unions have worked out limited agreements, at least for the League of Resident Theatres (LORT), other obstacles remain, including worries about diluting the impact of in-person productions.

Yet a commitment to streaming in “normal” times would help build relationships with audiences and access to underserved communities, while developing and maintaining a robust alternative to in-person performance for the next crisis. It would also address ongoing calls to preserve access while caring for those who still face a significant threat from COVID. We see a role here for the NEA, as a federal agency, or for other funders, to work on issues of access, whether geographic or for the disabled. To reiterate, digital delivery systems are a key part of building resilience, not just in the face of another health emergency, but of climate catastrophe and other unknowns.

Green equips her audience with a magnifying glass from the very beginning using prologue to invite scrutiny. Libby Barnard, the actor who played Harriet in the world premiere, entered just as the lights began to dim. She acknowledged that she was delivering the “prologue” and admitted that prologues are a bit of a playwright cheat since it is the chance to plant ideas in the audience’s head before the story even starts. With this opportunity perfectly teed up, she lets us know that this play is about sex—“so I don’t want to get any emails after the show.” She also explains that “the bed trick” is an ancient dramatic trope used by storytellers across many continents: one character is made to believe they are going to bed with person A, when they are actually set up to sleep with person B. The trick is traditionally forgiven in the story since the fooled person was usually duped into sleeping with their betrothed. The actor who played Harriet acknowledged that the concept seems weird if not altogether offensive by today’s post-Me Too standards. She offers that she could understand how it could feel to go to bed with one person and have them seem completely different by morning light. When Barnard’s speech slides sideways into this “morning after” story the audience is left to question: is the actor speaking or the character? It is in this theatrically slippery and inquisitive space where Green sets The Bed Trick.

The far-fetched bed trick trope is brought close to present day viewers through references to beloved versions of the trick still enjoyed today. Marianne’s mother drunkenly regales an unseen karaoke club audience with the story behind 1979’s chart topping hit “Escape (The Piña Colada Song)” by Rupert Holmes. The song is an account of an unhappy married couple each secretly searching the singles column to meet someone new only to end up responding to the other’s ad. Harriet cites Revenge of the Nerds as an example of a bed trick when trying to defend her involvement in a student production of All’s Well. Moreover, there is Green’s own prologue where the character who may or may not be Harriet shares a story of watching a friend become strange to her after a one-night stand as if they were suddenly someone else entirely. The prologue suggests the bed trick as a metaphor instead of a literal three-person scheme, but it is no less potent to the listener. An audience member would be hard-pressed to find an aspect of the historical plot device that they have not accepted in some way.

Shakespeare’s language, along with the other All’s Well themes, are woven into Green’s fresh ensemble comedy. Harriet’s metatheatrical ability to float both in and out of the story stems from her status as a theatre student. She frequently quotes Shakespeare and even performs Helena’s monologues as it is her desire to understand the theatrical devices of All’s Well that keep the story pushing forward alongside Marianne’s ill-fated phone dates. Lulu, played by Rachel Guyer Mafune, employs an Iago-like soliloquy, explaining her villainous plan of entrapment for her boyfriend, so seamlessly it could go almost unnoticed that she was breaking the fourth wall. Rhyming couplets are placed carefully throughout the play providing a feverish sense of speed as the characters careen towards their inevitable broken hearts. Whether an audience member is a die-hard Bardophile or has not thought about the play since they forgot to read it in a high school honors class, all will enjoy The Bed Trick.

Both Shakespeare and Green played a trick on their own characters, giving them all of the tools they needed to come together but no ability to find a clean way out.

Where Shakespeare wrote the Countess and King of All’s Well unknowingly united in emboldening Helena’s actions, The Bed Trick has Marianne’s recently divorced parents— Benny and Anna—who engaged in a bed trick of their own during courtship. The Countess in All’s Well counsels Helena to look past the class divide and follow her heart to Bertram with little acknowledgement of her own luxurious life with peerage. Though Shakespeare was very capable of writing a powerful and unyielding male monarch, the King in All’s Well is introduced while on the brink of death. When Helena revives him, he grants her a wish in his vulnerable state wherein she requests to marry Bertram. The older generation of All’s Well is fallible and accessible and so is the older generation in The Bed Trick. Benny, played by MJ Sieber, is a hardworking, underpaid professor attempting to rediscover joy in his life post-divorce, one drone purchase at a time. Anna, played by Alexandra Tavares, is tanned and back in town from Florida to retrace her own less-than-sunny post-divorce decisions. Marianne, played by Sophia Franzella, struggles to decipher their respective relationship advice as she tries to avoid the pointy edges of her love triangle. How kind of Shakespeare and Green to provide such involved parental figures! The older generation wants a better love life, one free of the unfair restrictions they felt in their salad days, for the younger generation. But it is their uniquely down-to-earth qualities that make them unable to protect the younger generation; their grounded perspective provides no vantage point from which to navigate the teens out of their messes. In that way, both Shakespeare and Green played a trick on their own characters, giving them all of the tools they needed to come together but no ability to find a clean way out.

Having expertly addressed the titular artistic trope and created a saucy new Shakespeare adaptation, Green dares to interrogate the place of consent on a Shakespearean stage. Early in Act I, the roommates have a tense discussion about All’s Well and its attempt to reframe sexual assault as a positive occurrence, which leads to the topic of consent. Harriet attempts to “save” Shakespeare’s story by explaining that Bertram was technically married to Helena when she tricked him. They are interrupted before they, or the audience, can arrive at a conclusion, but Harriet’s explanation stealthily introduces the notion of intent into the conversation—the intent being that Helena was trying to consummate her marriage via the bed trick. All’s Well has been forgiven for centuries because Helena’s act was seen as “pure” insomuch that her husband would not have had sex with another woman except for Helena’s intervention.

Carla Stillwell: The Western model of theatre is not suitable for this time. The evolution of theatre is more toward indigenous storytelling, traditional storytelling, African-centered storytelling. Most cultures of color feel the same way about theatre in the round, performance in space, with spectators, not an audience, but with gatherings of community, and I think that is where theatre must go, or she will die, because this world, we are no longer…

We are too tender. We’re a little too delicate now. Too much has happened. We’ve lost too many people. We need that feeling of community and sharing everywhere we go. So much distance was created. That pandemic changed the world. There’s a whole different way that we have to deal with each other. We need to be softer with each other. And Western theatre is cold and it has hard edges, and it’s not soft, and it’s not meant to include people.

Yura Sapi: You are listening to Building Our Own Tables, a podcast produced for HowlRound Theatre Commons, a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide. I’m your host, Yura Sapi, and I’m the founder of various organizations and projects, including a 501(c)(3) non-profit, a six-hectare farm and a food sovereignty project, and LGBTQ+ healing and art space, and I’ve helped numerous creatives, leaders and other founders unleash their excellence into the world, through my programs, workshops and coaching services.

In this podcast, I’m showcasing the high vibration solutions for you as a visionary leader to implement into your own practice and thrive. Stay tuned this season to hear from other founders who have built their own tables for their communities and for the world, in this evolutionary time on earth. You are here for a reason and I am so honored and grateful to support you on your journey. So stay tuned and enjoy.

Have you ever felt stuck in the idea that making theatre or being an artist won’t bring you financial success? Have you ever felt stuck in the starving artist trope? Well, if so, this is the episode for you. I sat down with Carla Stillwell, founder of The Stillwell Institute for Contemporary Black Art. This organization provides resources and support for emerging Black artists, teaching art making across genres, teaching trauma-informed art practices, and introducing art making as a vocation.

Carla shares her inspiring story, with beautiful quotes from her mother and that support of an entire ancestral lineage. We dive into topics like tips for starting a new kind of project you’ve never done before, what the evolving theatre industry is asking of us in this time, and ways to get over this scarcity mindset of economic freedom as a theatre artist. So check out this inspiring episode. Get to know Carla Stillwell. And get your notebook because this is a moment to take notes. Enjoy.

Before we get into this episode, go ahead and hit subscribe on this podcast. This is the best way to stay updated on new episodes, and it helps build a thriving planet where all beings experience joy and harmony with each other and Mother Earth. So go ahead and hit subscribe and keep this good energy flowing.

Welcome to the podcast, Carla. It’s so good to be with you.

Carla: Thank you. Thanks for having me.

Yura: I love to start off asking, if you were a superhero, what would your origin story be? What is that pivotal moment that really led you to forge your own path and build your own table?

Carla: It all started when I started acting. Quick story: I’m nine years old. It was time for the Christmas play in the fourth grade. My teacher hated me and I hated her. The feeling was mutual, because I thought I was smarter than her, and I probably was. But anyway, I had a speaking part and she took my role from me and gave it to Margaret Brown. She told me to step out of class. They voted me out of my role. I was devastated because I had a speaking role in all the plays since kindergarten. I was devastated. It was like Christmas Around The World or something, and they gave me the role of Santa Lucia.

So her costume, she was supposed to be wearing white and have a wreath of candles on her head. My mother was a seamstress and a painter. So I went home and I told my mommy, I was like, “She took my role. I’m devastated.” So my mother was like, “Oh, she did.” So my mother… I had just had communion, so I had this beautiful white communion dress. And my mother made a wreath and sewed the candles in it. And so we go to the show day of the performance, and my mother grabs me, and this is when people could still smoke inside, but she was a smoker, she grabs me and she pulls out her lighter and she goes, “Wait a minute.” My mother lights the candles and pushes me on stage. And I walked out. And there was a gasp from the audience. I had flames. And my mother had been making me walk with a book on my head for years, so I was very straight and I floated across with my flames. And I went back and my mother blew my candles out, and I was like, this is my life.

It was the high drama. I was like this. So I begged my mother to put me in drama the next year, and she did, and that’s when I started my theatrical career. And just over time, I was a little plus sized Black girl in theatre, so I never belonged. I never had a place. I always had to make my place in this business, especially when I was acting.

And then fast forward to my mother passing when I was twenty-six, I got small. I didn’t want to be seen, so I started stage managing. And that was short lived because I hated every minute of that. What I learned about myself was that I’m a thirty-thousand foot thinker. I was never comfortable just taking direction and doing what other people wanted done, especially when I know you’re not doing it right. Because at that point, I had been in theatre longer than anybody who I’d been to college with, worked with. So I was like, I want to write, maybe that’s what it is. So I started writing plays. That’s when I wrote my first plays. And then I was like, I love this, but I also just think I need to direct. So I started directing, and that works for my personality. I was like, okay, I can do this thing.

But then, the whole time, it was trying to skirt racism and misogyny. So I was doing that slalom. And then at some point in 2018, I woke up after my second sister had passed, I’d lost two sisters at this point. And a month after my second sister passed, I was like, I don’t want to do any of this anymore. I want to make a space that’s bigger than me, and that’s bigger than theatre for Black artists because art is a human right, not something that is just for privileged white people. It is a human right. When we’re all done, when we’re all dust, the only thing that’s left is the art that was created. That’s why we know what has happened in the past, because of the art, the literature. So I decided to develop The Stillwell Institute for Contemporary Black Art to help find funding and support for Black artists across genres to create. So this is my story. That’s all and now I’m here.

Yura: That’s incredible. Congratulations and thank you for all you’re doing. I definitely resonate with that aspect of wanting to expand even beyond theatre. And also, it is a decolonization too for me in terms of what is theatre, what gets to be counted as this type of very specific storytelling, with the current very European understanding of its origin, when we can actually trace it back to many other different cultures and ceremonies and events that are really representative of this same type of storytelling, so I really resonate with that.

And I’d love to ask you, so that story about your nine-year-old self, wow, really reflecting on all these years, what would you say to that younger version of yourself? What advice would you give?

Carla: I think my mother taught me, in that moment, to just be bold. But I can’t advise that girl because I’ve always been me. I just needed a push. I needed somebody to literally light candles on me and push me. And the takeaway from that was, she was able to take it from you because you didn’t give your whole self. You weren’t so good that nobody could take it from you.

And what my mother taught me in my moment was, you have to be bold. Even when people don’t believe in you, you have to be very intentional about how you present in the world and what you kind to do. And my mother taught me, you do not go on stage, you do not create, without giving your full self.

Yura: Really welcoming your strengths and knowing that sometimes the challenges were presented are actually the gateway to further understanding where is it that we need to go, honoring and being grateful even for the challenges and for the ways in which things don’t go as planned, because there’s always something more on the other side.

Carla: Literally. And my mother taught me so much in that moment. She literally taught me, there are no small roles. There are only small actors. That became a very real… When I first heard that quote many years after that moment, I was like, oh, that’s real. It’s very true. It is what you do with your gift. It is how you present your talent and your worth to the world. Nobody can put you in a box.

My life, I say often, is a series of happy accidents. I was just born to the right person. I was born in the right family. Were they perfect? Absolutely not. But they were perfect for me. I was born into a family of plus sized women that thought they were beautiful. You couldn’t tell these women a thing about their body or their looks or their hair. They thought they were gorgeous. I tell people all the time, I didn’t know that I was fat until I was in kindergarten, until I went around lots of… Because I’m the baby and I was raised around a lot of adults. I didn’t know there was a problem with my body and my look until I was around other humans.

And I’ll never forget, I told my mother, I was like, “Mommy…” This girl, her name was Carla too. She was my archnemesis in kindergarten. And I was like, “Mommy, she called me fat.” And I was confused. I wasn’t even sad. I was like, what is that? And my mother said, “The next person that calls you fat, Carla, you tell them, I may be fat, but I can lose weight. You can’t do anything about your face.” And so the next day, I went to school and girl called me fat and I said that. And I got a big old laugh and I was like, “huh, yeah, I am amazing.” And that is like my mother taught me to stand up for yourself, not be ashamed of you are. You’re beautiful. So I was just born to the right person, at the right time in history.

Yura: Yeah.

Carla: Yeah, that’s the story.

Yura: But I really love this offering. I’ve been diving more into this idea of soul’s purpose and really welcoming the, what if we, on a soul level, chose to be here in this moment of the planet, in this specific body, with this specific voice, with the specific family, in the location we decided we chose, for a reason that actually in order to really do what it is that we need to do in this lifetime, we are given all the tools we need? And I would say, going back to that other Carla and these other kids growing up, it’s really, yeah, you could see, it’s their problem. It’s not really your problem. And so, yeah, there’s this beautiful aspect of being able to support in this larger healing journey of what we are here to do in that way.

You can be an artist, and it is a job and it is your right to do as a person of color. I almost want to say, it’s your responsibility, if you are artistically inclined as a person of color, to lean into the arts as a vocation. 

Carla: And it’s never to say that I’ve never had insecurities. It’s never to say that I’ve never felt… We all have. I want a different this. I want a different that. But what I can say with all sincerity is that, I’ve never not wanted to be myself. And myself has always been an artist. From my earliest understanding of me, I have always been drawn to performance, specifically performance art, and the creation of theatre. And I know I would not be anywhere to close to a healed human, if I hadn’t had this medium in my life so early and so consistently, because I’d never stopped doing… When I was ten years old and I took my first actual acting class—I am fifty-one, been forty-one years of theatre, on all levels: administrated as a performer, a writer, director, producer, all levels. I’ve been engaged in this discipline and it has saved me spiritually, emotionally. But I think one of the things that I want to say, especially to artists of color, is it’s also taking care of me financially.

And that’s something that we are told that you’re supposed to be a starving artist and art is supposed to be for your soul’s work, and that’s okay when your parents have trust fund, when your parents have left you money and you have endowments and dowries and things, but it’s very hard for, especially poor people of color, to look at their artistic child and encourage them to just be an artist, because you’re not taught that it is also a business.

And I think one of those happy accidents is that, my mother and father never discouraged me from being an artist as a vocation. And that’s how I’ve always… I’ve looked at my artistry like I look at farming, like I look at HVAC work. It’s a vocation and it has taken care of me. I’ve been fortunate in that way. I don’t think I’ve been lucky though. I think that I was given a blueprint that this is a business and it is a career choice and it’s a path, and you don’t have to go and be an accountant first. You don’t have to be a lawyer first. You can be an artist, and it is a job and it is your right to do as a person of color. I almost want to say, it’s your responsibility, if you are artistically inclined as a person of color, to lean into the arts as a vocation.

There’s an African proverb, it’s something about, the lion is always the victor in the story. It’s something to the effects of, the person that tells the story is always the victor. You’re never going to be the hero in the story that’s told by your enemy, that’s told by someone else. So as people of color, it is our responsibility… And I messed that proverb all up, somebody’s going to correct it, and I hope so.

Yura: Is it, “Until the lion tells the story, the hunter will always be the hero”?

Carla: That’s the one. Yes. That’s why I feel it is our responsibility and duty to be storytellers.

Yura: To speak the lion…

Carla: Be the lion.

Yura: And also the hunter and lion within us. If we tell ourselves the story that the only way to be an artist is to be a starving artist, that in order to be an artist, we have to do other things to support ourselves, that’s just going to be what the story is that we believe and that will happen. But if we’re able to tell ourselves a story that there is a way that there is a business that look at all these other people who have done it, and it’s ultimately just another way of exchanging services, which is what humans do, is we offer services and then we receive what we need in exchange for listeners welcoming in that other story whenever you might find yourself stuck in an impossible mindset or storytelling of yourself, to catch yourself and say, wait a minute, what am I doing? Because I’m a powerful being. If I am bringing forth this story within, that is going to be what the reality is, and there’s just so many ways to keep opening it up and expanding.

Sometimes, I also find that it can be helpful to just go into a totally different place, because sometimes we get stuck in a certain almost flow, like the river flowing, like a river caught up in its flow and not able to just move and keep going. For me, it can be helpful to be with people who are able to affirm the impossible is possible. And also meditation is a huge one for me in terms of being able to get out of my own storytelling.

Carla: Right, no, I meditate every morning. I wake up every morning at five or so in the morning and take thirty minutes.

You just said something that, just the whole idea of being in your own way and feeding yourself a narrative, it’s so damaging to the soul to do that. And it’s damaging to the art. And the negative talk is one of the reasons most people can’t see their way to live off the art. Because you’ve decided that it’s never going to be lucrative, because you’ve decided what lucrative is. You’ve decided that success is that, if you’re not on television, or you’re not in the public eye, you’re not successful. That’s 1 percent of the people. I have a very dear friend whose husband has a whole Oscar because he created the hand for Thanos. Thanos’ hand and ring were his design and he has an Oscar.

Yura: Wow.

Carla: I have two Emmys, as a producer. Nobody knows who I am. You know what I’m saying? Success, we have to start talking differently. And I speak to communities of color because I’m a Black woman, period, and that’s where my concern sits for my people. So I speak to communities of color when I say, we have to honor the unseen. We have to know that there are things and people at work. The woman that designed the costume of Black Panther, I think her first name is Robin, she has an Oscar. There’s a whole swath of creative jobs and working and ways in which people are living and thriving and creating art. Not saying they didn’t work to get where they are, but in the project you’re watching, they didn’t make the project. There’s the grips. There’s the sound designers. There’s so many people. There are PAs. There’s so many people making a living doing amazing things that are very important.

We learned how important entertainment was in 2020. None of us would’ve been any good if we didn’t have Netflix and Paramount Plus during the pandemic. So I just always want people of color to think about how important storytelling is, not just as it’s healing, nurturing, emotional thing, because that’s part of the negative talk, that storytelling and art creation are these things that are only meant to feed the soul and to be ethereal and above and surreal, not that these are practical things that we need. We humans need to be engaged with beautiful things so that we feel whole, and that’s a business. It’s just like the people that make the cookies. We need cookies. Cookies are necessary for our soul, like food and air and water and art. We need these.

Yura: Are you ready to step into who you were born to be? As a certified soul purpose or a dharma and spiritual life coach, I am so ready to guide you in this powerful transformation of your life. As a successful social entrepreneur, social innovator, I am so excited to support others along this journey, because ultimately, when we all thrive in our respective communities, our impact really multiplies exponentially. And it brings me so much joy to help creators and leaders like you unleash your incredible talents, skills, and destiny of who you’re meant to be for our planet in this time. I get to bring together all of my training in the business and arts management world, as well as the climate justice sector, and the healing and shamanic energy work initiations and certifications, to really bring you into alignment and into full force movement for what you’re meant to be doing.

In my three-month coaching program, we’ll take a journey through your deepest desires for the world, to really harness in that future vision. You are such a powerful leader and I’m so excited to support you. So go ahead and check out my coaching services at liberarteinc.org, and you can find the link in the show notes as well. Talk to you soon.

There’s something called the behavioral confirmation response in the psychology worlds, and it talks about when individuals end up actually acting the way others expect from stereotypes. There’s actually studies that have shown how this ends up happening when there’s people around you thinking a certain way or thinking about you, or that these stereotypes coming through and then acting in that way, you end up or you can be prone to falling into that and into their almost wavelength of what it is that they’re projecting onto you. So I think it’s just so important to understand that, name that, like you said, and just know that is something that exists out there in terms of what people think, and we don’t have to welcome it in into our reality.

We talked about meditation. What are some other practices that you’ve used to really kick that idea out when it might start coming through or when you maybe notice it in different spaces around you?

That is my advice for anybody, especially creatives: find that release. Find that thing that feels like a blankie to you, so that you can give yourself a soft place and let things out and allow yourself to rest. 

Carla: I write. I write every day. And I encourage everyone to write something every day. I don’t care if I’m just telling a really good joke on Facebook, I write every day, because I feel that’s important for me. I am not good withholding things in. That does not work for me, so I let them out.

I cry a lot. Everybody that knows me knows I’m a big crybaby. I cry about all kinds of things, and I allow myself to cry. That’s one of those things that people would shame me out of. But as I’ve gotten older and actually had real tough time, I’ve decided a few years ago that I’m going to cry whenever I feel like it, wherever I feel like it. I release. That is my advice for anybody, especially creatives: find that release. Find that thing that feels like a blankie to you, so that you can give yourself a soft place and let things out and allow yourself to rest.

My mama, when I’d be going through something and be very upset and stressed, she was like, you are allowed three days to lay on the couch and cry and have a tantrum and feel sorry for yourself. And on the third day, you must rise like Jesus and get up and do something. And what she was teaching me is that, you get to take some time to plan, to think things through, to journal, to breathe, to cry, to let things out, so that when it is time to get up and work, get up and do, you are prepared mentally and spiritually for whatever the warfare is of the day.

Yura: That makes a lot of sense. I’ve been learning about these different energy states that we flow through, and there’s this offering that we go through three different stages of creation basically. So the first is this element of air, this inspiration that comes through very heady, very from the universe of divine kind of inspiration that comes through the idea. And then we move into the fire element, so this space of action of doing, of really using our hands and making something happen from this idea and the kind of working, bringing it into the 3D realm of the earth.

And then after, there’s the rest and the checking in and being able to evaluate what happened. And so this element of water and earth really holding us in, checking in and resting and letting the creation that we had exist, so that we can then move again into this element of air and inspiration and be open to receive. So yeah, definitely hearing that in your response around what we might do when there’s a shift or change or something that comes through that we need to process, that it’s totally normal to go ahead and take that time to rest and recuperate and then bring ourselves into that space of really being able to say, what’s next? What do I need to do?

Carla: The reflection part is key. As you are resting and laying down and purging, I always try to think about, well, how did we get here? How did I get here? How did we get here? How did this get to this point? What does this mean? So that I can either duplicate it or never recreate this moment again or turn this into…

I’m still dealing with a pretty serious health issue. I was in the hospital December 1st, I almost died.

Yura: Oh my God.

Carla: I found out I had a rare autoimmune condition that I did not know I had, that was masked by an autoimmune condition that I do know that I had. I just kept thinking, how did I, over all these years, how was this thing missed? This little detail, as I reflected back, I’ve been struggling with this little detail for probably thirty-plus years. And how did all of the doctors, all of the… Because I stayed going to a doctor, a hospital, I can’t have… How did it… Why now? Why this year? Why this moment? Why did this come full circle now?

And I ended up being rushed to the hospital I was born in, when I almost died. I was like, this has to mean something, that I’m here in this moment, back in this hospital, almost fifty-one years to the day I was born, fighting for my life. How did I get here? And I was like, because I’m supposed to do something artistic with this. Because I’m not the only person that has died from a thousand misdiagnoses. Now, I’ve been working through in my mind.

I started when I was laying in my hospital bed, this can’t be for naught. I cannot have gone through all of this and not tell this story, because I know I’m not the only Black woman who has been ignored by the medical system in this same kind of way. And it is a story that has to happen. So to your point, it’s that reflection piece, because I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in that there are things that are divinely ordered, that there are things that are happening in a way. And I don’t believe that things just happen to us for us, because I always think about, what am I teaching with my life?

Yura: I 100 percent agree, and I’m so grateful, one, that you’re here with us today. And of course, also, that you’ve made this realization as to, why is it that this would happen? I think that’s so powerful, to be able to move from a state of very much helplessness and confusion and disempowerment really to feel like this is happening to me, and then to say, actually, it’s maybe happening for me because there’s something else that’s going to happen. But even more so, it’s happening through me, because I am now being this conduit of a more universal experience of a larger change that is inevitable, coming forth from actually what I can do to share this story, and gather other people too who have shared this story. So wow.

Where are you at with this project now?

Carla: I’ve decided it’s probably a documentary.

So it’s weird. What’s happened with me having this diagnosis, I realized I have severe aplastic anemia, which is a precursor to blood cancers, lymphoma, multiple myeloma, and leukemia. My second sister that passed died from multiple myeloma, and I had never heard of this thing. My father had lymphoma. I never knew that this was all the same cancer. Come to find out, there is an actual gene marker because everybody in my family that has died from cancer has been the same types. And my mother’s uterine cancer was a part of that marker. And then, my cousins and I now we’re all talking and we’re like, I have this anemia too, oh my God. I have this because I’ve gotten some heart damage out of this. And so I have cousins that have the same kind of heart damage, and it’s all a whole family of Black folk with all the same stuff. How did this… What if?

And said, now I’m like, oh, this is ancestral. This goes back because we are the descendants of kidnapped, trafficked, and enslaved Africans. We’ve done our DNA. We are from 1629 basically. What is the trauma that made this mutation in our bodies? And my sister has a version of these same issues. So I feel like there’s more study. This is a documentary project, so this will be new for me. I’ve never done a documentary project like this. That’s what I’m going to try to do with this piece. But it’s bigger than a play. It’s bigger than a stage, because it’s a genealogical historical journey through my DNA basically.

Yura: Wow, that’s incredible. And I do think that more is coming out of DNA, because this other information that’s in our DNA holds information. It’s not just there for no reason. It’s just that science currently has not been able to uncover and pinpoint what is it that the information in our DNA holds beyond the specific information that’s already been said.

Carla: Humans mutate. Species mutate to adapt their environment. Those mutations are sitting somewhere. The steps to that mutation have to live somewhere inside of us. The way that my ancestors worked, my people are from the field. The trauma of the middle passage, the trauma of slavery, are living in our bodies, and our bodies mutated to adapt to that. But that’s physical abuse. But what happens now that it’s mental and spiritual warfare on you. You know what I’m saying? It’s all inside of us, and that’s really what I want to explore.

Yura: Yeah, I’m really excited to get to experience the final product of this.

And I’m curious too, if you can share some advice for anyone who might be doing something different. Like you said, you haven’t done a documentary like this, and you also know that you want to expand beyond theatre. If someone is currently maybe in that type of situation, what would you recommend they consider if they’re doing something they haven’t done before and also something that’s bigger than before?

Carla: Talk to people. When I decided to start the institute, I didn’t know how to start an organization. I had no clue. So my first step was to call Angelique Power. She was working for Field Foundation at the time. She’s a friend of mine, and in philanthropy for many years, amazing woman. And I called her and I was like, “First of all, I don’t even know if this is a real thing what I’m trying to do. So I want to do this thing, give me your thoughts.” She was so encouraging. She put me in the path of the funders she knew. She helped me. I picked up the phone and I called people that I know that do this thing.

I have started talking to some of my friends who are filmmakers, who this is something that they do. It’s like, where do you start? What should I do? So my thing is, I think we don’t take advantage enough of cold calling folks. Now, it’s so easy because you can jump in somebody’s DMs if you’re on Instagram and you see somebody doing the work that you like. And you were really, “Wow, this photography is great. I’m not a photographer. I’d like to start,” reach out to that photographer. What can they say other than no, right? That’s it.

Yura: Yeah. I love the recommendation too of reaching out to those in your network. And sometimes, I don’t realize who I know, and it just takes a moment of introspection and being with myself and asking, who can help me with this? And being open to receive that information. Sometimes, I suddenly remember, oh yeah, this person is there, or I’m going to a certain city and I remember all these different people are there that would be good to check in with. And so, I definitely really value that recommendation on using your network, continuing to expand your network, and placing yourself in situations where you might meet someone who is the exact person that can help you. So whether that’s going to specific events.

Carla: Go to the art galleries. Go to the art galleries. Go to the theatre. If you want to produce or direct, go to the theatre you like. Especially in Chicago, there is a producer or an AD somewhere on the premises. For every show, there is somebody that will be able to at least point you into the right direction of who to talk to at that organization. You have to show up for yourself. You have to show up for yourself. You have to put yourself in the position to be seen and heard, because nobody’s going to just walk up and give it. You have to put yourself in position.

And it’s okay to not know. This is what I think people don’t realize, because they think about talking to celebrities and people that are like, oh, I don’t want to talk. Oh, I’m bombarded. They think about approaching people and they think that’s the response they’re going to get. That’s 1 percent. The other 99 percent of people want so desperately to talk to somebody about what they do. They want so desperately to share what they’ve been through and their journey and to help people. In my lifetime, I can say I’ve gotten very little resistant when I’ve asked: So how do you do this? Where should I go? So what should I do? How did you start? I think that people are afraid of the rejection. And somebody may pooh-pooh you, but that doesn’t mean you stop trying to talk to folks, because most people really want to share. They do.

Yura: Yeah. And there’s paying it forward too. If you think about yourself, if someone came up to you, for anybody who’s listening and is wanting to support on something you’ve already been able to accomplish, then you offer that support and then it comes back to you. And so I think that also ends up being forever. Because ultimately too, in terms of a strong network and these relationships that we’re building through the industry and through the work that we’re doing, there are always things that we can do to help each other, especially when it comes to this type of connections.

Because maybe for example, you helped me with something that I didn’t know about, and I’ve got you in mind. I know about you. We’re connected. And maybe I know that you’re specifically looking to meet a certain funder one day, and so then I have an opportunity to connect with that funder and I remember about you who helped me, and so I make that connection. There’s always something that we can offer in terms of this exchange. It doesn’t always have to be money. It doesn’t always have to be material things. There’s so much that comes with being able to help each other.

Carla: I know I’ve probably quoted my mother fifty million times already, but I quote that lady every day, all day long because she was brilliant. She was amazing chick. And she used to say, “If you hold your fist so tight and don’t let anything out, you won’t let anything in.” You have to live life with an open hand.

And I’m a mentor. They call themselves my theatre children, I have about twenty-five of them. And I’m picking up new ones every day, because people mentored me, and people still mentor me. And that’s the other thing. You don’t ever get out of the learning curve when you are an artist. You are always supposed to be thinking about what’s new, what’s contemporary, what’s right now, and how do we adapt these disciplines so that we can give story to people and it can be received.

Right now, we’re living in this immersive theatre time, which I’m enjoying so much, a time where there’s not this fourth wall, where artists are creating art, where the audience feels like they’re a part of the show with audiences engaged. It’s so beautiful and rich, and we’re living in such an exciting time. And theatre can go so much farther. But we have to be a community. We have to find a synergy and work with each other and help each other, because this is a hard time too. This is a time for favors and bartering because it’s so difficult. It’s time for us as theatre artists to live with an open hand.

Yura: “I’m open to receive.” The mantra, the affirmation. And also, “I am born to be seen.”

Carla: Yes.

Yura: You may have this question with what you just said, but as the theatre industry evolves, what do you believe it’s asking of us as creators and leaders?

Carla: My discipline is African-centered theatre. It’s where I landed as an adult artist and where I’ve lived most of my life. And it’s the concept that every piece of the production is a character in the show, that all things live in concert, that the music is as important as the dancers, as important as the actors, and that the audience is as important as all of us. And the lights are a character. And that is where I think theatre must go.

I think the Western model of theatre is not suitable for this time. This is a time where the walls need to come down. People need transparency. I think people would much rather sit in a show and be able to talk back to the stage and clap and laugh and be fully engaged, and be able to walk around a set during intermission and touch things and be a part of the moment. The coldness of traditional Western theatre no longer suits the world that we’re living in because it’s so much tension. People need a soft place to land, and Western theatre is not soft. I think the evolution of theatre is more toward indigenous storytelling, traditional storytelling, African-centered storytelling. I think that most cultures of color feel the same way about theatre in the round, performance in space with spectators, not an audience, but with gatherings of community. And I think that is where theatre must go, or she will die, because this world, we are no longer…

We are too tender. We’re a little too delicate now. Too much has happened. We’ve lost too many people. We need that feeling of community and sharing everywhere we go. So much distance was created. That pandemic changed the world. There’s a whole different way that we have to deal with each other. We need to be softer with each other. And Western theatre is cold, and it has hard edges, and it’s not soft, and it’s not meant to include people. It’s presentational, and I think that’s no longer a safe space for people.

Yura: Absolutely. Yeah. And I think what’s great about our organizations, these tables that we’ve built, is that we’re ready to go ahead and take the baton, showcase what we’ve already been working on, and go ahead and take center stage, really bring the solutions. I always say theatre is a microcosm of the macrocosm of the world, because ultimately, when we look at many of the world’s solutions for things like climate justice, social racial justice, really reason that we’re still here and our ancestral practices are still here is because they are the solution. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’ve had to get to such a dire point. And we’re also still here. We’re at this turning point. We got all the tools we need. Are you ready to make this shift and say, yes, we’re going to actually try something different. But that’s also actually ancestral.

It’s always funny when I hear the word traditional, especially in Spanish, traditional, when you say it more, it’s more about ancestral like traditional music of folk music. So for me, it’s like traditional is actually more of the ancestral, not necessarily classical European traditional. But yeah.

Carla: And I think the other thing that theatre needs to do, your words were reminding me, is that all the artists need to create art together. I think theatre artists get real territorial about the discipline, and I don’t think we invite our painters and our musicians into the space with us in a way that is fresh and exciting. I think we use them as pieces and pawn. I think Western theatre uses musicians as afterthoughts, and uses designers as afterthoughts, and not full participants in the creation of the work. And I think that’s a mistake. And it’s time that we, artists, because actors will call themselves actors. They won’t call themselves artists. Like you’re an artist. Because when you say artists, most people, they go, oh, do you paint? No, I write. I create theatre. I’m an artist. And so are you. And so are we all.

Yura: Yeah.

Carla: Yeah.

Yura: My final question for you is, reflecting on your journey, what has been the most rewarding aspect of carving your own path and building your own table?

Carla: Teaching. Being Professor Stillwell now at DePaul is so exciting. I’ve always enjoyed arts education. It’s been pretty much a part of my adult theatre life I’ve taught. So teaching and mentoring are the great joys of my life. Knowing that the ideas that I have are resonating with the next generation of artists, and that they’ll take those ideas and expand on them and give them to the next generation of artists has always given me great joy.

Yura: Beautiful. Tell us how we can find you and The Stillwell Institute.

Carla: Oh, you can find The Stillwell Institute at www.thestillwellinstitute.org. You can find me on all the social medias. I’m some variation of Ms. Stillwell. S-T-I-L-L-W-E-L-L, or some variation of Ms. Stillwell or Carla Stillwell on Facebook, Instagram to X, TikTok.

Yura: We’ll add the link.

Carla: Yes, I’m easy to find.

Yura: And what’s next for you?

Carla: Theatre Communication Groups Conference here in Chicago, June 19th through the 22nd. If you are a Chicago resident, you should go to the TCG website. They have some scholarships for the conference for Chicago theatre artists, so that will be great. You should try to get there. And anybody who’s coming in, come see me. I’ll be hanging out all weekend doing stuff.

Yura: Amazing. Yes. Maybe I’ll try to make it as well.

It was such a joy, such a pleasure to chat with you today. Thank you so much, Carla, for being on the podcast.

Carla: Thank you for having me.

Yura: This podcast is produced as a contribution to HowlRound Theatre Commons. You can find more episodes of this show and other HowlRound shows wherever you find podcasts. Be sure to search with the keyword “HowlRound” and subscribe to receive new episodes. If you love this podcast, post a rating and write a review on those platforms. You can also find a transcript for this episode, along with a lot of other progressive and disruptive content on howlround.com. Have an idea for an exciting podcast, essay or event the theatre community needs to hear? Visit howlround.com and submit your idea to this digital commons.