Audience Services Associate Ben Brownson -- the guy you probably talked to at the door if you've been to a T7 show in the past year -- talks to us about the importance of advance ticketing.
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Most people don’t realize how important advance ticket sales are to the stability, growth, and sustainability of a young theatre company, but did you know that there is a direct correlation between the number of tickets sold in advance and the number of tickets sold for a show overall? Simply put, the more tickets we sell before a show opens, the more tickets we sell overall. Advance ticket sales also help us get some much needed early revenue and stability; they make the show less dependent on reviews to build an audience; they give us the chance to offer lower-priced tickets while maintaining our sales goals; and it allows us the freedom and flexibility to take more risks and do better work. Advance ticket sales can provide the financial foundation for a show’s entire run, and even for a whole season.
For these reasons, and more, advance ticket sales are a vital part of our growth and development as a company. Buying your ticket ahead of time is an easy and important way for you to support Theatre Seven. But just in case that’s not reason enough (I know, I know, I tend to make plans last-minute too), we want to make it worth your while. That’s why we promise that tickets to Theatre Seven shows will always be cheaper in advance than at the door. To put our money (or, I guess, your money) where our mouth is, we are currently offering tickets to any performance of Hunting and Gathering (May 21-June 27) for only $10 if they are purchased before May 16th using the code “TEN.” This will be the absolute guaranteed lowest price for tickets to this show, cheaper than the industry discount, cheaper than student tickets, cheaper even than HotTix because we don’t charge a handling fee; $10 is the total amount you pay. If you’re reading this, you’re probably already planning on coming to the show anyway (which we appreciate)—why not save some money and show a little extra T7 love at the same time?
This offer is something I’m excited about, and my plan is for it to be a regular policy: buy early and get the guaranteed lowest price. It’s our way of saying thank you for planning ahead and supporting Theatre Seven just that much more.
You can purchase tickets here, or by calling the Greenhouse box office at (773)-404-7336.
A few months ago, George Zerante joined Theatre Seven, and we have been so much stronger for it. We asked George to talk to us about the experience, and he had a lot to say! Here's part 1 of 2.
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When did you first team up with Theatre Seven? How was that?
I first teamed up with Theatre Seven in the summer of 2008 and it’s kind of a story. This was my second summer out of college and my first living in the city. The entire first year after college, I was solely focused on being able to pay rent and live the scary grown-up life. The entire first summer I was only trying to feed my addiction through auditioning for film work, an avenue that I had yet to explore, but missed the stage with a hunger that I had never really felt before.
So I started submitting for random theatre auditions and Theatre Seven was one of my first in Chicago. I started doing my research on the company and started to really get stoked for it. They seemed like they were doing some really solid work and I liked their website. All of them, extremely attractive people to work with. I had auditioned for their generals and they all seemed pretty cool. I ended up getting called back for a part in Election Day. I read the script and loved it. I wanted the role bad, so I went in the callback completely off book. A few days later, I got an email from Tracy, saying that they'll keep my headshot for future auditions. A good month or so after that, I get another email from Tracey saying that dude man dropped out of the play and that they wanted to call me in, at the very last minute, to read for a completely different role than I had originally been called back for. So, I’m thinking, “Right on.” Once again, I went in off book and once again I got an email from Tracey saying better luck next time.
About a week went by and I got a call from Brian Golden, the Artistic Director. He left a message saying that he had “a weird proposition for me.” I think those were his words. By the time I got the message, it was already like 10:00 at night on, like, a Saturday or something. I knew the “professional” thing to do would be to wait till the next day, to call him back at a reasonable hour. But I also knew that waiting that long would be impossible cause this “weird proposition” intrigued me to the point that my impatient side beat up my professional side, and I called him back late that night.
He said that the director for Election Day decided to go with another actor for the role, but that they liked my auditions so much that they wanted to offer me a role in their VERY next show, Yes, This Really Happened To Me. He said it was going to be a pretty wild process. It’s an ensemble play, where every actor plays more than one role. That there are two directors on the project, five completely different writers, a vague idea on what the final script will be like, no clue what or how many roles I would be playing. Oh, and that rehearsal starts in three days. The two directors behind this brainchild decided at the last minute that they needed another male and one of the roles is a cop, so they needed someone beefy. I accepted and on that Monday I got an email from Margot and on that Tuesday I was in Lookingglass for rehearsals.
I was blindly falling into a project that had already been workshopped by all the actors in the ensemble (except me, of course) and had never even auditioned for, let alone met the directors. But from the second I stepped off that elevator on the 22nd floor of the Hancock Building, I was welcomed with stretched open arms. This ended up being one of the best experiences of my life. Margot and Cassy were brilliant to work with. It was scary how in sync those two were throughout the whole process. We called them the two-headed monster. I felt like I was working with the most talented people on the planet, so talk about having to raise your game. I was only a green, just out of college, amateur with a little wooden sword and these people were fire-spitting dragons. I don’t think those people realize it, but they helped me grow so much in such a short time. I mean they introduced me to acting in the Chicago and the entire Chicago theatre community. I fell disgustingly in love with Theatre Seven because of that production. Everyone in that cast still remains close friends to me, even if we don’t see each other that often.
I knew from that experience on that not only would I do anything that Theatre Seven wanted me to do as an actor, volunteer, whatever, but I would try to be friends with all of them for the rest of my breathing days. It’s funny, cause at the time, the only thing I thought about was how it would be a dream come true to someday be a part of a company like T7.
Check back later this week for more thoughts, straight from George's mouth to you.
Laura Jacqmin, whose "Look, We Are Breathing" will be the first play read as part of our Shikaakwa reading series, talks to us.
It’s a funny thing about plays: as playwrights, we’re supposed to be experts on our own work. But just over a year after I wrote the first draft of LOOK, WE ARE BREATHING, I’m still trying to figure it out. The reading at Theatre Seven will be just the fourth iteration of the play I’ll have heard – each time with different actors, in different cities, with different people in the audience. You learn more every time. You question what you thought you knew. You make notes, which you hope won’t be forgotten. You rededicate yourself to getting it right (all the while knowing that your to-do list is a mile long and there are other plays in the wings already, waiting for their chance to be further discovered and understood).
For this reading, we rehearsed early Saturday morning and will rehearse again tomorrow. Questions were asked; notes were given; bagels were eaten. I tend to learn more during rehearsals for a reading than the reading itself. This past Saturday was no exception. I already know one monologue I want to swap out entirely to express a different sentiment, a more difficult sentiment, a more honest sentiment. You’ll have to guess which one.
This June, the play will be workshopped at the Sundance Theatre Lab. For the very first time, I’ll have the opportunity to go in-depth with the play for the first time over a period of 12 (!) days. Until then, I owe a big thank-you to Theatre Seven for refreshing my memory about my own play. This reading gets me closer to becoming an expert on the thing that crawled out of my brain just over a year ago.
Stage Manager Taylor Fenderbosch -- with annotations from Production Manager Harriet Sogin -- on the experience of working on Mimesophobia.
What is it like to stage manage Mimesophobia, you ask? Hm. In three words: confusing, exciting, and... well, paperwork-filled.[1]
I found my way into T7 this past summer by answering a post on Chicagoplays.com for an Assistant Stage Manager. I met with Brian Golden and was immediately hooked. I knew this company was going places and I was pretty sure I wanted to tag along. By the time we hit November, however, I was pretty worn out from a show I was working on out in the suburbs. So, when Brian asked me to stage manage Mimesophobia, I was pretty hesitant.[2]
But then he told me who was involved in the show and it was pretty much impossible to say no. Margot's brilliant and engaging direction? Stojak's antics? How could I turn that down?
I am beyond glad that I accepted the opportunity, too. The rehearsal process was everything I love in theatre. From the very first days of table work, everyone in the room was intensely focused, engaged and open to sharing their thoughts and reactions to the script. Every word of Carlos' writing was a piece to the puzzle and we were all invited to try to fit it together. As rehearsals moved from the table to viewpointing exercises,[3] the ensemble really came together. It is an incredible experience to watch a group of individuals become a collective whole.
There were challenges,[4] too, of course. Moments when lines were not memorized and rehearsals were reduced to me drilling lines with the actors. I frequently compare stage management to being a camp counselor[5] and it is moments like those that really drive that comparison home. "Stojak! The rest of the cabin is waiting for you; why isn't your skit prepared?!" Ah, good times.
Challenges, however, are not limited to the rehearsal space when you are the liaison between designers, actors, and the director. Juggling the needs of all these people led, more than once, to Gmail threads the length of Homeric epics and chats with our production manager, the lovely Harriet Sogin, that lasted hours.[6] It’s not as easy as one might think to get a play on its feet…
Challenges and all, Mimesophobia makes it up there on my list of "coolest shows I’ve worked on." Even if I do have to wash Hot Pockets and peanut butter[7] off the dishes after every show... Ew.
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[1] Taylor loves it. A lot.
[2] After all, stage managing is hard.
[3] As a stage manager, I refer to the viewpointing time as "Time to edit my paperwork" or "Time to talk to my production manager on Gchat."
[4] Theatre's hard.
[5] I compare it to trying to herd kittens into a basket. Very cute, and sweet. But they need to just stay where we tell them to.
[6] Granted, I can get a little ADD online and start shopping.
Sarah Burnham shares some thoughts with us on the unique challenges of designing props for Mimesophobia.
When most people go to the theatre, they remember the actors, the script, or perhaps how cool the set or costumes were. Very often they don’t realize that a lot of thought, time and effort has gone into everything the actors are handling or sitting on, from the label on the cigarette box, to the chair that you only see for 30 seconds. Those small details (or big ones, as far as furniture goes) are what I was charged with handling as props designer for Mimesophobia. With a show like this one, you don’t really know just what you need until you get into the rehearsal process -- you have an idea, but so many things are discovered organically, that you’ve got to be flexible. And you've got to be resourceful -- you know exactly what you want, you can see it in your mind's eye, but you definitely don't have the $400 it would take to buy it brand new. This is when the hunt begins; resale shops, other theatres, friends, family, the guy that you met in a bar who just mentioned once that he had this thing. You go, you find, you take pictures -— it's not quite what the others were thinking (remember, your mind's eye has to mesh with everybody else, especially the director and scenic designer) and so then you start the process again.
In an ideal world, you have weeks to do this. In the real world, you're balancing part-time and temp work, everywhere you need to go is only open during the time you're supposed to be working, and the bed you thought you were going to get to borrow falls through. You get creative. You find what you want -- the front room of your apartment turns into a storage facility. The neighbors wonder if perhaps you're moving (whether that's still moving in, or moving out, they're not sure). The storage facility moves from the front room of your apartment to the theatre, and the world of the play begins to really exist as more than just an illustration. The actors, the lights, the set, they all come into play -- the audience arrives. Once again, the props fade into the background. And you sit, and smile, because you've accomplished what you set out to do.
Company member Margot Bordelon talks to us about the experience of directing Mimesophobia.
What attracted you to Mimesophobia? What do you feel like is unique about the play?
There were a number of things that attracted me to Mimesophobia. Like many Chicago directors, I believe that theater is an event. I'm drawn to plays that embrace an awareness of their own performance, a category Mimesophobia most certainly falls into. There is no fourth wall, the actors speak directly to the audience, and Man and Woman (the two narrators), repeatedly remind us that the story we are watching is a "reenactment." This story can only function as a piece of theater.
Mimesophobia contains seven stage directions. Which, if you aren't a frequent reader of plays, you need to know isn’t very many. This openness to interpretation attracted me, along with the play’s rich, articulate language. Carlos writes theatrical poetry for the contemporary American tongue. Each of his characters has a distinct rhythm and vocabulary. Every "uhhh" and "ummm" is specifically written in, each pause and beat specifically marked. During auditions, the actors who soared were often the ones with significant classical experience. Mimesophobia demands that actors act on the lines, as opposed to in between them.
Most importantly, I was attracted to the themes this script explores. The play follows various people trying to make sense of a mysterious murder/suicide. I'm intrigued by that very human desire (that I think we all possess) to explain the inexplicable. But at what point does that desire overwhelm us, causing us to behave in ways that are morally questionable?
What has the experience of directing the show been like? How have things changed or evolved?
Directing Mimesophobia has been a wonderful challenge. Over the course of the process I came to realize that the "openness to interpretation" that first attracted me, was actually making it more challenging for me to determine whether or not I was making the most dramatic and textually supported choices. Luckily, Carlos was involved in the process and was very open to discussing specifics about the play.
The element of the production that changed the most was the set design concept. When I first began visualizing the world of the play, I imagined it would be made up of a labyrinth of curtains that Man and Woman would manipulate throughout the show. Everything would stay hidden from the audience’s view. Man and Woman would control when a scene would begin and end by pulling a curtain open or shut. Ultimately, John and I created something almost completely opposite: a space where nothing is hidden from the audience. They can see the costume rack, the actors sitting back stage etc. and despite the visual evidence that they are witnessing make-believe, they suspend their disbelief regardless.
Every job has its frustrations. Not enough pay. Not enough recognition. Our families don’t understand what we do. All in all, as an Artistic Director of a theatre company I love, I’m very lucky. But here’s one that’s bothering me this week.
One pretty well-read website and one extremely well-read daily newspaper both made the same error this week: listing the website at which folks could buy tickets for our current show, MIMESOPHOBIA, as www.chicagodramatists.org instead of www.theatreseven.org, the correct address. Anyone inspired to go online and buy a ticket after reading the newspaper review hit a dead end, and probably gave up.
Now, mistakes happen and we all make them. There’s no ill will or malice here toward either publication. But it is frustrating because we as arts makers work so incredibly hard to earn the presence of our colleagues in the press. We have to do so because they provide a very valuable service to us. In evaluating and critiquing the marketplace of currently running theatre, they provide theatre companies an outlet to advertise their work, through the mouthpiece of someone who may or may not like that work.
And the theatre press in Chicago, by and large, is really awesome. Our press colleagues see loads and loads of theatre in the face of declining arts coverage at most of their publications, and still mostly seem to love theatre. I love them. I don’t know even if these are their mistakes I’m talking about – they may very well be errors made in the copy department. But when this kind of thing happens, it just bums me out.
When we request the presence of a critic at our shows, we stagger our communications over a 6-week period. We send multiple emails, a couple hard mail reminders, and in the case of the major publications, drop in a couple phone calls as well. Every communication includes the same press release, which lists in multiple locations the single web address where tickets are available for this show: www.theatreseven.org. In fact, the incorrect address from Chicago Dramatists appears nowhere in any written materials about the show. That means someone, somewhere, is making a bad guess instead of simply reading what we’ve prepared for them. And that bums me out, plain and simple. It almost makes me happy that the newspaper review was a mixed bag instead of an all-out rave. If the piece had been a ‘don’t walk, run’ recommendation, the mistake could have literally cost us thousands of dollars in ticket revenue.
Again, no hard feelings – everybody makes mistakes. But this is the one getting my goat today.
I'm really psyched that on Sunday, Theatre Seven will be offering its first performance of any of our productions with American Sign Language interpreters for the hearing impaired.
This feels like a big moment for us. As the visibility and artistry of the company rises, I feel we have a growing responsibility to make our work accessible to as many Chicagoans as possible. That onus, in fact, is expressed in our mission statement: to produce new plays, Chicago Premieres and forgotten classics that speak directly to the diverse Chicago community with imagination and clarity. Not white Chicago, not north-side Chicago, not affluent Chicago, and not hearing Chicago. The diverse Chicago community.
Accessing the invaluable resource of two talented, quick thinking ASL interpreters doesn't come cheap. But there are theatre companies far more established with far higher budgets than Theatre Seven that don't offer these performances. And you know? I say shame on them. If your work is good enough that all of Chicago should appreciate it, then make it so.
We hope patrons of all hearing abilities will join us for this Sunday's ASL-interpreted performance of MIMESOPHOBIA. Information below:
Please join us!
Theatre Seven of Chicago would love your presence at an ASL-interpreted performance of our hit play, Mimesophobia. The show has been called “ambitious and engrossing” (Time Out Chicago), “zesty and ambitious” (Chicago Tribune) and “a kind of terror only an expert storyteller can achieve.” (Talkin’ Broadway)
Read below for a description of the play, our ASL-interpreted performance, and Theatre Seven of Chicago.
Mimesophobia Carlos Murillo's Mimesophobia cuts between Hollywood and Hyde Park to weave a murder mystery for the reality-TV age. As a devastated woman reconstructs her murdered sister's diary, two screenwriters desperately try to spin tragedy into cinematic gold. Meanwhile, a deranged academic meditates on the American obsession with violence. In the middle of this dark and savagely funny collage lies the question: what compels us to open doors we know are better left unopened?
Thurs - Sat @ 8 pm & Sun @ 3 pm @ Chicago Dramatists 1105 W Chicago Ave Tickets: $15 - $24, 773.853.3158
Sunday, March 14th: Performance for the Hearing Impaired As part of our continued effort to produce theatre for the diverse Chicago audience, Theatre Seven offers a performance of Mimesophobia for the hearing impaired, translated by a pair of ASL interpreters from Deaf Communication by Innovation. We are proud to welcome audiences of all hearing abilities to this performance. Use the discount code ASLINTERP when purchasing online or via phone to get 50% off your Mimesophobia ticket!
Theatre Seven of Chicago produces new and original work that speaks directly to the diverse Chicago community with imagination and clarity. Since 2007, the company has produced ten offerings, including eight Chicago premieres. Theatre Seven's noted premieres include Diversey Harbor ("Hottest Ticket in Town" - Chicago Tribune), Yes, This Really Happened To Me (Critic's Choice - Chicago Reader), and Cooperstown, which earned the company its first Jeff Recommendation. The company's early 2009 remount of Marisa Wegrzyn's Diversey Harbor was seen by over 1,400 patrons and featured in NewCity's "Greatest Hits of the Decade." This year, Theatre Seven becomes a Resident Company at the historic Greenhouse Theatre in the heart of Lincoln Park.
Good first act. I repeated myself once during the scripted intro Carlos wrote for the show on Friday afternoon. The intro makes me more nervous than any of the lines in the play proper. It's very strange to read lines while playing yourself...
We turned out an audience of 60some for the show tonight. Very happy about that. We have 9 press folks and the Jeff Committee in the audience, and no one seems too nervous about that.
In the cast "moment" before the show, Salinas gave us the tongue-in-cheek "let's go out there and tell the truth" pep talk he promised he would on opening night. It was as funny as planned.
Everyone is doing great. I so wish that I could share this night with my lovely, Tracey, who is on a plane right now headed for Rome to visit her kid sis who is studying abroad. Hole in my heart. But it's good to have the show to take my mind off things...
Actor/musician Chance Bone talked to us a couple of days ago about creating the score for Mimesophobia. Chance's thoughts were too big for just one post, so here's part 2, where he tells us about discoveries, frustrations, and a pretty sweet analogy about exploding pigeons.
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What's the most exciting part of the experience?
Well, Margot and I decided the piano was a great instrument that reflected the play well. There is something about it that can sound very haunting and cold all in a single note. The most challenging thing about this process was: I don't consider myself a piano player at all! So, trying to find what to say using a new instrument is really exciting. Especially if you are take what musical knowledge you have in other areas and try to apply it to something completely new, I think you can sometimes get a unique sound.
Mimes, to me, contains a lot of frustrated characters looking for the best way to represent themselves through artistic means: writing books and scripts, even the frustration that comes with dealing with death. Hell, the play can be frustrating due to the nature of the storytelling (you almost have to disregard everything you've ever 'learned' about being told a story and be completely open and accept that this is different. It's a very refreshing play in that respect). So, for me, I went into this experience wanting to feel that too. To have a piece of music that seems to 'know what it's doing' seems like it would feel as though it would separate the audience from the experience of the play. So, I played and wrote from a place of frustrated thought, and I think the music reflects that very well. It sometimes sounds like pigeons picking wedding rice between the keys and then sometimes sounds like a pigeon exploding after eating wedding rice. Ha!
You had a collaborator, didn't you? Tell us about that.
My brother Lennon was good company to have during the writing of this music. I actually took a train to Kansas City, Kansas, where my older brother lives. He has been a huge musical influence on me. He played trumpet and flugelhorn for years and now plays drums for the group Ha Ha Tonka. Mimes gave me an excuse to play music with my brother, which we hardly get to do anymore. And since Lennon had never written for a play before, his mindset kept my mindset fresh too. We work really well together as musicians. I guess that's what happens when the person you're writing music with is the same person who used to chase you around the basement with a Freddy Krueger glove as a kid.
But we sat down together and tossed around our thoughts about the play, and then tried to immediately translate it to music. The music for the show has actually taken a lot of different shapes over the last few weeks.
I was trying to avoid that MIDI computerized keyboard sound you hear a lot of in theatrical settings. Its one of the few things that really angers me: why is there not more live music and sound in theatre? Yes, it's easier and cheaper to just use a computer but I hate it. So, I tried to avoid it like the plague.
Was there anything unusual about the process this time?
Lennon and I recorded live trombones, trumpets, guitars, drums, and piano all in the process of Mimes. We spent a couple of days writing different themes and then manipulating them in different fashions. For example, we recorded a guitar part at 30 beats per second, and then sped it up to 160 and recorded all the other instrumentation at 160. Using live instruments and recording them in this fashion was very new to us. To me, one way to describe some of the sounds is like, well, when you're in a moving car looking at the different plants on the side of the road going 70 mph... you know what you're looking at but its hard to find the details.
I started recording the music a couple of weeks before rehearsals even started! This is sometimes the case with a lot of different shows, but probably not too common with a show that relies so much on kind of 'organically' coming up with material in the rehearsal space. So, again, I think the style of the compositions really have a lot of respect for the actors on stage. I tried to work together to help set the tone of what Carlos, Margot, and the actors have created so well.
I'll probably think of something different a week after the show is open, thinking, "Damn! Why didn't I do this or that?" But that's what theatre is. Presenting in the moment. Though there is recorded music, it reflects a moment. An audible photograph. Just as theatre is one you can shake hands with afterwards.
About 25 minutes till our first paying audience gets a whiff of the Chicago Premiere of Mimesophobia. Brian S. is coughing, Michael is doing a vocal warmup. Asst. Sound Designer Matt Chapman is sitting on the couch eating Subway. Jess and Cyd I can hear running lines in the other dressing room.
We have a crowd of about 10 today - which is just what we need. A few bodies, a little laughter, and some genuine interaction for this play, which is probably at least 35% talking directly to the audience. I'm very eager for some faces to speak with. We spent the morning, from 11am-on cleaning up light cues, refocusing some instruments, and tightening the physical comedy of the piece.
The show looks fantastic - awesome job by our designers and Margot creating a beautiful, eerie shell of a world for this play to live in.
Chance Bone, musician and actor -- Chance was actually in our last production, Cooperstown -- talks to us about creating the score for Mimesophobia. He had a lot to say, so this is just part one of two. Check back in a few days to see the rest of his thoughts!
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Walk us through your process. How on earth do you go about writing music for a play? What's step one? Heck, what's step two?
Step one is reading the play 3 times. I take notes along the way of what moments really affected me as a reader/audience member. That could be anything from dialogue to stage direction--absolutely everything. I try to realize what my thought process was when I was reading the play, or some of the questions I asked myself as I read it, and write that down too. Thirdly, I read the play as if it were an opera. I mean, like music it has its melodies and harmonies (main and minor characters), the movement of the story towards its climax and post climax, the rhythms in speech. Once I have this giant list in front of me, I start digging into my memory banks of my own experiences with music. I try to think about what instruments best represent a particular thought. I'm a very psychological composer, I think less about what notes I'm playing and more about the feelings that get tossed around by playing a note an interesting way or putting it in an interesting place in time.
I really was very economical when it came to writing compositions for Mimes. My 'mission statement' was, "How can I say a lot by using as little note choice as possible?" I don't always work like that. But, I think if you try to say too much, then you don't give room to your audience to fill in the space with their own thought and connection to the music.
Though I used a metronome with this music because I was lucky enough to be working with Miles in designing the sounds you hear in the play, I usually mark time in music with my own breathing. Not a hippy. Breath is a result of being alive, and that's what I like in music, and something I try to exercise.
Why does this show demand music? What do you think the music will add?
Music is a powerful thing, there is no denying that whatsoever. With this particular play, the music really helps support the scenes where the character's thought processes are cranking out ideas.
More and more a days, it seems like there is an actual soundtrack to our lives (iPods, the playing of music in nearly every establishment you walk in to). But the use of music in a play can really bring a sense of otherworldment or fantasy, which is how it is used in this play. I think this play actually demands more silence than music. I wrote the music with the mindset of not trying to disturb that silence, almost like trying to practice a tuba in an apartment complex at 3 in the morning.
To get a feel for some of Chance's music, check out his Myspace.
John Wilson shares some thoughts (and sketches) from the experience of designing the set for Mimesophobia:
When Margot Bordelon and I first met to discuss the Mimesophobia scenic design she had a strong sense of what she wanted. I had worked with Theatre Seven before as the scenic designer for Killing Women, (also in Chicago Dramatists). Margot was interested in collaborating with me because my designs have abstract qualities about them and she felt that this was something she wanted to explore with this production. Mimesophobia is a nonlinear murder mystery with very few stage directions and no mention of expectations for scenic elements. This was a wonderful challenge as a designer: how could we create a set that best served the story and supported Carlos Murillo's vision of his play?
Margot had brought in pictures from Lars Von Trier's 2003 production of Dogville which came to be our diving board for the design. The film is set on a sound stage and has many borrowed elements from Wilder's Our Town. Minimalistic in approach, it has parts of scenery and even a painted ground plan instead of a full blown Hollywood extravaganza, allowing the audience to focus on the story instead of production costs. Like Dogville, we wanted our set to create a specific psychological space and only employ props and other elements that directly supported the plot.
Mimeophobia is a “reenactment”. All of the characters speak directly to the audience. They embrace the fact that they’re putting on a show. With this in mind, we decided to highlight the fact that we’re in a theater and to leave everything exposed. The design embraces Chicago Dramatist’s charm and quirks, using very little scenery, giving the actors room to play. The stage floor is covered with luan plywood cut to 6" and covering the entire floor. The floor will have a variety of stains all pieced together, much like a puzzle, and will be textured with paint, old spike tape and distressed marks to give it the feel of an old well worn rehearsal room. The footlights that I have added gives the company lighting designer, Justin Wardell, the opportunity to create interesting shadow play, while at the same time giving us, the audience, a sense of the presentational aspect of the story. There are a few units on casters that will move on stage that will illustrate different locations in the play. The walls of the space are painted with chalk board paint three quarters of the way up which blend into a textured earth tone treatment near the ceiling. Finally, chalk is used sparingly throughout the production to highlight different parts of the story.
With all these elements working together with costume, light, and sound design, I’m confident that this production will have a unique and striking feel to it. Something exciting is going to happen on that stage and I can't wait to experience it.
From Brian Golden, Artistic Director (and Mimesophobia cast member):
We’re two weeks deep in rehearsals for Theatre Seven’s 10th production, MIMESOPHOBIA, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t prepare you for just how wonderfully and beguilingly strange this play is.
MIMESOPHOBIA is genuinely, unapologetically odd. Strange. Unsettling. Weird. Haunting. The kind of play that makes you very, very afraid to look away. I have to prepare you for all those things, because this play is delightfully “outside the box” – unlike anything Theatre Seven has done. Unlike anything I’ve ever done!
The show’s plot concerns the re-enactment of a true-crime murder suicide with ties to Hyde Park and the U. of Chicago. Two screenwriters are trying to write a movie about the killing, the murdered woman’s sister is reconstructing her dead sister’s diary, and a deranged academic with connections to the crime is writing a book on the American obsession with violence. Two “who-are-they” narrators guide the re-enactment and the actors portraying the real life people.
So that’s the plot. Is this a play about plot? Sort of. A little. Not really.
When Margot and I first met with Carlos Murillo to discuss the play (Margot is the play’s genius director, Carlos is the play’s genius writer, and Co-Head of Playwriting at DePaul’s Theatre School), we talked about all the reasons we found the play awesome, and right up Theatre Seven’s alley. There’s great language, some incredible opportunities for heightened moments, spooky design, and real theatrical suspense. There’s mystery, violence, sex…and it’s all true. Or is it?
In MIMESOPHOBIA, the lines between fiction and fantasy are fuzzy at best. That’s kind of the point (or one of the points). Given a story to tell, and a choice between the two, are humans prone to choosing fantasy if they can make it sexier than reality? Would we rather believe a sexy lie than a banal truth? And what business is it of yours when it comes to someone else’s tragedy, anyway? Do any of the distinctions really matter? Do they even exist?
I think if we’ve done our job, you’ll leave this play with your heart racing, feeling a little confused, a little excited, and more than a little dirty. And if that all sounds strangely intriguing, I think we’re off to a good start.
Hey everybody, this is Jonathan Baude, community manager for Theatre Seven. They say brevity is the soul of wit, and below me is a post from our artistic director, Brian Golden that provides a brief/witty introduction to our new blog. But I hope you'll allow me to expand just a bit.
T7 wanted to start a blog to continue building a dialogue with you, our community. We are always, constantly, never-endingly craving your feedback: what do you like, what's bugging you, just what do you think about anything at all? By the same token, we love to keep you in the loop with what's up on our end; we've always got things we're working on, things we're hopeful for in the future, and things we want to ask your feedback on. So please, as Brian says below, check back often for updates on what we're doing, and I can't emphasize this part strongly enough: talk to us! We could go on for days about playwrights and superobjectives and Source Fours, but isn't it more interesting for everybody if we all get in on the conversation? So if you see a post that you've got something to add, comment on it! If you've got a question or a suggestion, e-mail us! Our door - our figurative, on-the-Internet door - is always open, so please drop us a line any time.
We should be able to use some sort of crazy Internet hyperlinkomatrix madness to import new blog posts as Facebook notes, so feel free to check us out there as well. As we continue to grow our blog, you should see posts from our incredibly talented company members, our crackerjack staff, and some of the many artists we get the fortune to collaborate with throughout the year, as well as more posts from me (contain yourselves, now).
We have a show opening in just about a month, Carlos Murillo's Mimesophobia, and I don't want to give anything away about just what you'll be seeing on the blog, but spoiler alert, you're going to get some awesome behind-the-scenes info all about this show and why it rocks.
Theatre Seven of Chicago's blog is operational, my friends. Check back here often, or better yet, hit the cute little SUBSCRIBE button below for quick hits in your email - T7's thoughts on our work, our process, theatre and the world in which we live.
