George Zerante On Joining Theatre Seven, Part 1

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.

---

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.

Playwright Laura Jacqmin on "Look, We Are Breathing"

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.

Taylor Fenderbosch (and a bit of Harriet Sogin) on Stage Managing Mimesophobia

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.

---

[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.

[7] I know! Actors should only eat white bread.