Friday, May 1, 2015

Goodbye, Blog

As part of my author study project, I've been reading a lot of Conor McPherson lately. I'm getting very familiar with his work--the total number of plays I've now seen or read (or both) is now, if I'm not mistaken, is seven (The Seafarer, Port Authority, The Weir, The Shining City, Night Alive, St. Nicholas, & This Lime Tree Bower). That might not seem like a lot, especially since plays aren't that long, but given the emotional complexity and thought-provoking nature of his work, it feels like a lot. It's certainly more than I've seen/read of any other playwright, with the possible exception of Shakespeare (Romeo and Julliet, Twelfth Night, Richard The Third, Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It, Macbeth, Hamlet... yeah, no, Shakespeare wins).

The two I read just recently were St. Nicholas and This Lime Tree Bower. These represent the earlier phase of his work, when he wrote monologue plays. Recently, his writing has all been in a conversational style.

These plays reminded me of something that was talked a lot about at Cherubs this summer: storytelling. Some students actually took a class on storytelling, where they created their own performance pieces telling personal narratives. I didn't, but storytelling was something that was a part of all we did there: theatre is all about telling--and more specifically, I think, sharing--stories.

I think I prefer, for the most part, McPherson's current style, because I find it so breathtakingly lifelike and honest. But there's something I find really lovely and fascinating about the monologue plays. There's something really courageous about sitting down in front of a group of people and telling a story about yourself. The characters in the monologue plays must inherently have this courage, given the nature of the play, and it adds a really intriguing psychological level to the plays.

I really do love that bravery, and that kind of personal connection the speaker has with the audience. The shared awareness, the shattered fourth wall. That kind of deep empathy was what drew me to McPherson's work in the first place, and it reminds me why I love theatre so much and why it's what I've chosen to do.

I hope that you find McPherson's bravery, spontaneity, and passion in the stories you tell and the stories that are told to you. And I hope you've enjoyed reading this blog. Thanks.