by Henrik Eger

We live in fairly liberated times, but we still struggle with a number of taboos, including stuttering, dementia, and death. Todd Cardin, Philadelphia actor, standup comedian, and playwright, took on both dementia and the fear of dying in his daring Alzheimer’s: The Musical, a one-act play. It tackled these serious subjects with honesty and a sense of humor rarely featured onstage.

Based on his experiences with his father, who had dementia and was going through the sundown phase in life, and his mother-in-law, for whom he and his wife are currently caring, Cardin wrote a comedic musical, premiering at Philadelphia’s Plays and Players under the direction of William McKinlay, with a cast of the Actors International Theatre (AIT), founded by director Katherine Filer, a successful professional who also stutters. In the program, she described the goal of theatre for actors with speech impediments: “We focus on the stuttering community and the message that they, too, can insert themselves into the world of acting. Ultimately, we aim to show our audience that there is nothing in life that can hold us back.”

She then asked playwright Cardin to develop a musical for her actors. He decided to tackle it and recalled, “I met with her group of five actors and created the script for Alzheimer’s: The Musical, based on the ages and personalities of the team.”

​Theatre As a Great Equalizer
Fringe festivals are often the only places where companies with actors that come with vocal or physical disabilities can perform. AIT is such a company that lets us hear voices of those who are rarely heard in the theatre. None of the actors who stutter ever thought that one day they would do what scared them the most in life, namely to perform plays and musicals on stage.

Two examples: AIT actors Katherine Filer and Carmen Shapiro. Both experienced childhood and adolescence as trying periods. Stuttering kept Filer from developing friendships. She avoided social situations and felt isolated. During her professional life, she had to develop strategies to communicate effectively, in spite of her stuttering.

However, both women made major breakthroughs. Filer, who became a public speaker, proudly shared, “I have spoken in front of over 250 people combined at the NSA [the National Stuttering Association] and at Friends [“a national nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering young people who stutter and their families”]. I also spoke to over 800 people about my commitment that "each and every voice [in my groups] is heard—not just those who stutter.”

Shapiro underwent speech therapy for years to practice relaxation techniques, even though she didn't feel handicapped. “I just happened to have something I needed to work on the same way that others worked on their math or reading skills.” However, she admits feeling “very embarrassed and disappointed with myself as stuttering was always the elephant in the room when I started to talk,” especially when she got nervous—“stuttering like crazy.”

Her breakthrough came when she became aware of the power of acting. “I never thought about doing theatre, but I was inspired by last year's production at AIT. I took it on as a personal challenge to face my fears of public speaking and performing in front of an audience.” Shapiro found rehearsals were easier because most of the cast are people who stutter. “Our stuttering was never an issue.” She even went a step further and told, not only family and friends, but also her coworkers and bosses about her acting in Alzheimer’s: The Musical and, to her delight, “received an overwhelming amount of support.”

Rehearsals and Performances with Actors Who Stuttter     
Shapiro, a gifted AIT actor who stutters, describes the process of rehearsing a new play: “It is not that my stuttering increased or diminished, it was just different every time. For example, I was surprised when I stuttered in a line that I had never stuttered on in previous rehearsals. And I didn’t stutter on places where I would have expected to. I found that if we started rehearsing in the middle of a scene, I stuttered more than if we had started the scene from the beginning. Overall, the more we rehearsed, the more I was exposed to the different ways of getting to each part, and in time I stuttered less.”

The woman who shied away from speaking in public now believes: “Theatre is a great equalizer. Once you are on stage, it doesn't matter who you are or where you come from. You are part of something larger than yourself and you have to do well for the others. Stuttering is the least of your problems when you are there; the show must go on, and you have to keep it moving.”

Asked about her reality of acting and singing, especially on opening night, Shapiro admits, “I was very nervous. But everyone in the audience knew about us. I had people from all aspects of my life there, pulling for me and ready to have fun with me. Not because I stutter, but because I was daring to do something many of them would never do, even though they are fluent! Even my boss's boss was very excited for me and is bringing a group of coworkers to see me perform.” Shapiro concludes, “Not only has [acting] helped me with my stage fright, but I feel like I came out of my stuttering closet. I don't have anything to hide anymore, and I feel incredibly free and comfortable with myself.”

A Special Gift to the Stage
What makes the production of Alzheimer’s: The Musical unique is not only the serious subject matter and the humor and hilarity with which it gets treated, but the fact that the actors stutter in their daily lives—even though, on stage, one could hardly notice anything, certainly not when they were singing—under the caring guidance of music director Mark Pasquini, who accompanied the ensemble with his guitar.

Cardin, an actor and standup comedian who has been called “a mad comic genius” by director McKinlay, centers his musical on Maurice Green, an aging Broadway star (played with high energy and wit by Jerry Puma) who tries to come to terms with his most challenging role, unable to distinguish between facts and his rich imagination, especially when it comes to sexual encounters with famous Broadway actresses.

The musical takes place in the home of Warren, Maurice’s son (played by Dr. Mitchell Trichon, co-founder of Stutter Social and a faculty member of La Salle University where he teaches and supervises speech-language pathology students). Maurice’s wife Dana (performed by the earnest Carmen Shapiro) tries to keep some sense of normalcy in the family, even when Jeff, her brother-in-law (the entertaining Bill Collins), who has problems of his own, arrives and upsets the emotional apple cart with their aging father Maurice. To build a bridge between the world of a senior with Alzheimer’s and a regular family with children, the couple hired Sarah (the compassionate Marissa Moschetta), a down-to-earth social worker who sees through Maurice’s shenanigans and brings him back to reality—at least for a few moments at a time.

I found it moving that a small company like AIT, which “employs actors with disabilities with the goal of altering global and personal perceptions of limitations,” is actually donating some of the proceeds from this world premiere of Alzheimer’s: The Musical to the National Stuttering Association and the Alzheimer’s Association.

Theatre for People Who Don’t Like Theatre
Asked about his goals for this musical, Cardin explained: “I wanted to touch on the fact that although a person might lose their memory, they are still a person. They still have value. You can create happiness, even though [people with Alzheimer’s] may not remember an event, but the feeling of being happy is still very real. Humor is the only way to get through this [difficult situation]. If you didn’t laugh, you’d have to cry—which I do at times.”

Cardin, who started his own ETC Theatre with his wife Emily Cardin over ten years ago, has written 27 original plays, ten of which made it to the Philadelphia Fringe. “I am trying to create theatre for people who don’t like theatre,” he confessed. “Most of what I write is seeped heavily in pop culture references, sitcom type of humor, and is light hearted.” Cardin actually wrote Alzheimer’s: The Musical in two nights, and the songs in another. “I work pretty fast,” he said. “This is my first show that another theatre company has produced. I’ve handed the script to Bill McKinlay, the director, and let him make it his own. He changed the music, and punched up the script. I love collaboration and seeing the visions of others come to life.”

The playwright presented the deteriorating stage actor as a kind of modern Don Quixote. Director McKinlay describes Maurice, the man with Alzheimer’s, as “an insane old man reduced to ashes by humility and defeat. Sanity, it seems, is not so much a fixed line in the sand as it is an early morning fog through which we all must pass at some point.” McKinlay admits, “I welcome the onset of Alzheimer's in my later years. Every day will be a brand new day filled with new faces! Perspective! Welcome to my world—we have cookies!”

Leaving the Theatre with Mixed Feelings
The audience spontaneously rose to their feet at the end of the show. We had witnessed a musical that dared to touch on several taboo subjects, and we had seen actors who live with the awareness that they stutter—a moving experience for all of us.

After the show, I talked with quite a few audience members, the charismatic AIT director, and the actors. All of them—audience and artistic team—brought an extra dimension to this production that I only experienced whenever I saw performances by Philadelphia’s Amaryllis Theatre, a company that features actors with and without disabilities, especially deaf, blind, and paraplegic actors who moved me to tears with their performances of classic plays. Similarly, this Fringe audience of people, who have friends or relatives who stutter or are living with dementia, clearly identified with the actors and everything that the Alzheimer’s play stood for.

I left the theatre wondering how I would lead my life if I got hit by dementia or Alzheimer’s—moving back and forth between fragments of realities, fears, and dreams. And my mind began to stutter.

FURTHER READING AND RESOURCES: Stuttering and Drama

Organizations
Friends Who Stutter: A national organization that offers support for children and teenagers who stutter.
National Stuttering Association: Support, self-help and advocacy for all people who stutter.
SAY: The Stuttering Association for the Young.

Publications
Hanna, Maddie. “Stutterers burst on the stage—not stuttering.” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 16, 2013.
Inspiring Singer with a Stutter on American Idol. Jan 17, 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3mNl335uHg
McQuade, Dan. “Using the stage to overcome stuttering.” CityPaper Philadelphia, September 5, 2013.
“Stuttering on the Stage.” Our Time Theatre Company: An artistic home for people who stutter, which "provides an environment free from ridicule where PWS discover the joy of creating and performing original theatre" (located in New York City).

Alzheimer’s, Dementia, and Drama

Organizations
Alzheimer’s Association, the leading voluntary health organization in Alzheimer's care, support and research.
Dementia Society of America.

Publications
Croombs, Louise. “Dramatherapy for Dementia.” Dramatherapist, 2010.
Evans, Lowri. “Drama with dementia.” ArtsProfessional, May 21, 2012.
Garrett, Kay. “Drama therapy can coax Alzheimer's patients back to reality, briefly.” K-State Perspectives, Fall/Winter 2006.
Hill, Julianne. “Improv For Alzheimer's: 'A Sense Of Accomplishment'.” NPR, August 15, 2011.

This article was originally published by HowlRound on February 28, 2016. 

by Henrik Eger

​Jen Creed, once a mathematician and former recruiter in the investment management industry, now sits on the Board of Directors of The Voice Foundation, and teaches voice, and serves as the head of theater at Merion Mercy Academy in Merion Station, PA.

Above all, Jen is a popular Philadelphia singer with an unusually wide vocal range—singing as high as a lark and roaring as low as a lion. She is performing an equally diverse range of music: from classical to Broadway, from the sacred to standards, plus her own compositions.

Her numerous performances all over the US and videos of her concerts on YouTube testify to her strength and popularity, even though few people may know about her struggles to overcome a dangerous vocal cord operation. Recently, she gave two sold-out performances at Act II Playhouse in Ambler, PA, and has been commissioned by L’Etage, Philadelphia’s famous cabaret, to perform a monthly solo cabaret that celebrates a different theme each show, starting with A Night at the Oscars filled with famous film songs to be performed at Philadelphia’s L’Etage cabaret this Friday, February 19th at 7:30 PM.

Henrik: Given your experience in the corporate world as a successful recruiter, why did you choose music as a career? 

​Jen: You only have one life to live! I am a creative person. For me, it’s drudgery to do the same thing every day, waking up at the same time to the dreaded alarm and following the same routine. The corporate world truly almost killed my spirit, despite my career success. I’ve learned that just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean that you have to do it!

By nature I am hard core in everything I do. So, if you’re going to spend most of your life at work, shouldn’t work be connected to your soul? Then work and play are almost one in the same. Sure, it’s not all roses and drinking martinis all day long, but if you do what you’re passionate about, giving back to the world freely and generously with the gifts with which you’ve been given, the world will give back. To me that’s a life well-lived.

I am blessed to be able to sing what moves me, and hope that if it moves me, maybe it can move someone else. And that’s why I do what I do. We are all capable of great things. Music has the power to inspire us to be our best selves.

How financially stable can a music career be vs. a career in finance?

Finance is probably the highest paying field out there, so it’s not really fair to compare. But I do make a living, and a good one, with a flexible lifestyle—picking and choosing projects I want to work on. You have to be a well-rounded musician to make money, and it takes time. I teach voice out of my home studio, and direct, produce, and music direct children’s and young adult theatrical productions.

I also serve as staff cantor at three Philadelphia churches, sing at over 50 wedding ceremonies each year, and even sing the national anthem at races, charity events, and sporting events. Of course, I also conceptualize and produce my own concerts and cabarets, and write, publish, and record my own music.

In short, I like working on multiple projects and being multi-dimensional. So, you can definitely make money if you work hard, and if you love what you do, you never want for more.

You were trained as a classical singer, and yet you sing everything from sacred music to Broadway, The Beatles, and beyond. Tell us more about your musical and artistic evolution.

It was not specifically a conscious decision, as so many forms of music move me. I’ve been singing all types of music as long as I can remember. I was “discovered” at the age of five by my dance teacher. When she heard me sing, she set me up with my first voice teacher and nurtured my love for music and the stage by giving me opportunities to perform.

My parents were getting calls all the time from agents, theaters, and The Al Alberts Show, but my mom was very protective of me and wouldn’t let me be a “child star.” I remember her saying, “My job is to give you a strong foundation. If you want to go into show business as an adult, that’s okay. But I need to teach you what real life is and give you roots.” I’m [very] grateful she did. [And] so, I sang in church and in musical productions all through elementary school and was fortunate to receive both academic and music scholarships to Gwynedd-Mercy Academy High School.

I never intended to go into music as a career—I thought I would be a doctor or psychiatrist. I was accepted into Ivy League and top-tier colleges to study psychology and math. But one day in April of my senior year of high school changed everything. The LaSalle High School College band came to play an assembly at my school. From the audience I watched, I listened, and in that moment I knew that helping people through music was my life calling. Perhaps not so coincidentally, the band performed that same day at the school at which my mom taught, so she witnessed the same concert. After school, we both admitted that we were simultaneously struck by the same revelation: I was to major in music.

I accepted a full Archdiocesan scholarship to The Catholic University of America where I double majored in math and voice performance. My father, ever the pragmatist, “made me” double major in math so that I would have some job security. He now laughs that I have worked in music all this time. He is my biggest fan.

Tell us about your musical studies.

A degree in voice performance traditionally means the study of classical music. I took several semesters of Italian, German, and French to complement the Spanish and Latin that I had previously studied, and sang everything from art songs to arias to oratorios. While I was at Catholic I also “dabbled” in my other love, musical theater. In my junior year, I was bouncing from show to show, operas to musicals, and back again.

My voice teacher was upset. She knew my potential to become a premier opera singer and sensed my distraction from that goal. When I received the lead role in the musical Chess, she sat in the front row on opening night with her arms crossed across her chest the entire time. I could read her body language and was so nervous about what she would say afterward. When the show concluded, she entered the backstage area. I didn’t know what I was in for. She walked right up to me, looked me in the eyes, and slowly said, “If you can perform that way all weekend and then walk into my studio on Monday morning and sing high C’s like you do, then this is OK by me. You, my dear, are spectacular.” I have never forgotten her acceptance of my desire to be versatile, and will always be grateful for her incredible classical training.

After you graduated from college, what did you do next?

When I graduated from college, it was natural for me to segue into musical theater. I lived in my hometown of Philadelphia for a time and then moved up to New York where I was given work in national tours. But that life wasn’t what I thought it would be. You do a show, it runs for a few months, you’re constantly looking for the next thing. You’re off on Monday when the rest of the world works, but you don’t know which city you’ll be in next. For me, it wasn’t a life conducive to “normalcy.”

You were realistic, but you also had your creative yearnings.

I’m a gypsy and always doing ten things at once, but I am also a family person and crave stability underlining a life—probably because of those roots my mother gave me. People matter to me: seeing them, having relationships, sharing life. Sure, everyone makes sacrifices for work, but I didn’t think this particular life was the kind of life I wanted to sign up for.

You returned home to Philadelphia and the vocal problems began.  

I decided to return to Philadelphia and began my quest to create my own kind of musical career here at home. But life had other plans for me. In 2003, I was given a role in a world premiere musical. However, I was getting chronic laryngitis and was diagnosed with bilateral polyps on my vocal cords. All to say, I took a break from singing, and after my surgeries, it took some years before I knew I could rebuild a music career.

One of the worst things that could happen to the career of a singer is having vocal surgeries. Tell us more about your surgery, your recovery, and its impact on your career.

Obviously, vocal surgery is an occupational hazard for a professional singer. After months of rehabilitation, it became clear that surgical intervention was needed. I was scared, but confident in my care and my body’s natural ability to heal. After both polyps were removed, I was ordered not to speak for a full week to give the surgical site proper time to heal. It was difficult, but I was assured that it would be well worth it. If I didn’t obey, I may never be able to sing again. So I obeyed. But unfortunately my vocal folds didn’t.

As weeks progressed, there was scarring found underneath one of the polyps that impeded one of my vocal folds to move freely. Subsequent rehabilitation and three additional surgeries were needed. I was unable to speak at great length, sing at the level I had, or really do anything that brought me happiness—except for crossword puzzles, which grew old quickly. My instrument and a huge chunk of my self-worth were gone. I felt very helpless and alone. I was determined, though, to not have this be the end of the real me—an energetic, passionate, vocal person.

How did you cope during these traumatic days?

I began reading about otolaryngology—the study of the ears, nose, and throat. Through these readings, I knew I wanted to learn more. I knew that through my vocal trauma, I could help others experiencing similar setbacks. I just didn’t know how yet. In a few months’ time, I was offered the opportunity to study under one of the world’s premier voice surgeons, Dr. Robert Sataloff. It was fascinating, and I knew I was on the right track. After deepening my learnings through this fellowship, I was then appointed Executive Director of The Voice Foundation, an international nonprofit dedicated to voice care.

You turned a vocal lemon into a high octane lemonade—healing and simultaneously creating a powerful position helping others.

I still couldn’t sing like I used to. I couldn’t even speak without a rasp. So I chose to support others who were trying to get me and others like me back on track. As a result, my life slowly began to change. I bought a home in the city near my new job. I made friends that I will carry with me through my entire life. After a few years, my voice eventually returned with luster. It was a new chapter, and the life I know now is wholly a result of the tragedy from which I thought I would never recover.

I still check in yearly with my surgeon, Dr. Yolanda Heman-Ackah, who has been like a miracle worker to me. Now, twelve years after those polyps and surgeries, my voice is stronger and more resilient than ever. Sometimes it’s through the suffering that we learn and grow.

I began singing only what moved me—whether it was pop, jazz, sacred, Broadway, or light classical. It was the right fit for me. Today, my voice is the strongest it’s ever been, and I am lucky that I don’t have to make sacrifices. I like to sing it all.

You sang “Ol’ Man River” at Frank Sinatra’s 100th birthday celebration. Sinatra’s “I did it my way” comes to mind when looking at your life, your career.

Creed: Yes, I sang that one, too. You’re right. I created my own life—my career is by my design. I didn’t follow a prescription for getting on Broadway, and my road had several detours and seemingly at times no end goal.

Many people give up when something goes wrong, but you didn’t. What inspired you to keep going?

I remember after several years working in investment management, I was at the beach on a warm Labor Day. Most people were packed up for the season, summer fun left behind in the sand. I was still in my bathing suit in the dinnertime hour and told my friend that I didn’t want to go to work the next day. She looked at me, knowing that she had an opening: “You’re wasting your life in the corner office of a corporate center.” I was baffled, explaining that I did the music thing already, although I didn’t like the haphazardness and instability. She fought back, “You can make a living doing what you’re born to do. You just need to be more creative about it. You need to do it your way.”

Returning home from the beach, I thought about it, and made some calls—one of which was to Helen Leicht of WXPN [nationally recognized leader in Triple A radio for new and significant artists, run by the University of Pennsylvania], a lifelong friend to me and my family. Helen truly is the driving force behind the resurgence in my music career. She “coerced” me to write songs, record, and get performing again. Working with Helen inspired me to take risks and be true to myself. 

It is no coincidence that exactly one year after that Labor Day at the beach, I finished recording my debut album.

What advice do you have for young singers and other artists? 

If I could give advice, it would be: “Shine in your own light, find mentors, ask for help from those you trust, and listen. Those who know you the best will shine a mirror into your very soul. The answers are all inside of you. Do it your way.”

 If you were to look at your life like a film, what would you say were the turning points that affected your music and, with it, your perception of life?

As a singer, so much of your personal life affects your craft. Emotions run deep and they affect your voice, energy, song selections, interpretations—really everything. Certainly my mother’s death was a turning point in my life and in my musical life. Also romantic relationships—whether “big” breakups or small—caused me to see the world and sing my songs differently. And then on a positive note, my voice truly became my own when I met and married my husband. My voice is the richest, most resilient, and strongest today. Even my doctor thinks it’s because of true love. Great medical advice: Fall in love and stay in love.

What are you doing now to challenge yourself further and go beyond where you are right now as a singer and performer?

Something that has become very important to me is listening more—whether it’s live music or a YouTube video or buying—yes, buying—new or old music. If one of my favorite artists is coming into town, it doesn’t matter how much a ticket costs or how inconvenient the timing is, I go, and I sit as close as possible and soak it in. I have learned from every single one of these shows and artists—I have gotten ideas for new material, new approaches to old material, reminders of vocal technique, style, and inspiration in general.

In this New Year, I plan to write more. Whenever I sing a song that’s one of my own, that’s what people seem to comment on the most. I love songwriting and need to make room in my life for more of it. I’m glad I am saying this out loud, because now I am committing to it.

Also, I would love, love, love to go back to school for an advanced degree in music. But there just aren’t enough hours in the day, but it’s on the wish list.

This spring I will turn 40 and am proud to sing that to the world. Two months before my mom’s 40th birthday she was diagnosed with breast cancer, a diagnosis that ultimately became her death sentence. I feel like I am merely beginning—happy, healthy, and very much alive, with so much to look forward to. Life is a gift. Every day. I am grateful and okay with all that comes with the gift of aging. When I can’t run the miles like I used to or have that extra drink without the consequences of a hangover, even then, I am grateful, because some people don’t get to grow old, surrounded by love and a happy life. I’m blessed.

What concerts are coming up for you during the next few weeks at Philadelphia’s popular L’Etage cabaret?

My next show is This Friday, February 19th at 7:30 PM, and is a tribute to the Oscars with me singing the greatest movie themes of all time. My March show is called Pop Legends. The April show is a Streisand birthday celebration, and the May show is a Broadway extravaganza. Can’t wait to see you at L’Etage!

Is there anything else you would like to share?

Just gratitude. I heard Barbara Cook in concert about two years ago, and I’ll never forget something she said that night: “You never know if the world will let you sing.” Luckily, the world has let me sing. I sing what moves me—whether it’s crossover, jazz, sacred, musical theater, or pop—and hope that if it moves me, maybe it can move someone else. And that’s why I do what I do. We are all capable of great things. Music has the power to inspire us to be our best selves.

​FUTURE PERFORMANCES BY JEN CREED:

This Friday, February 19, 2016 at 7:30 pm: 

80th Academy Awards NYC Meet the Oscars Opening A Night at the Oscars – Jen Creed Sings The Greatest Movie Songs of All Time

At: L’Etage
624 South 6th Street
Philadelphia, PA 19147
United States

Doors open at 6:30 pm. The show begins at 7:30 pm. Seating is general admission.

Full bar menu and small plates will be available during the show. To receive VIP seating, dine pre-show downstairs at the renowned Parisian Crêperie, Beau Monde.

After purchasing your show tickets call (215) 592-0656 to make a dinner reservation.

Make sure to mention that you will be seeing Jen’s performance upstairs so that you receive preferred reserved seating at the show.

Those under 21 years old must be supervised by an adult.

Wednesday, March 16, 7:30 pm: On The Radio! Jen Creed Sings Pop Legends

Jen Sings Pop Greats by Adele, Sting, Billy Joel, David Bowie, and more.

For the original article published by DCMetroTheaterArts.com, click here.

​One of the world’s greatest experts on Italian Renaissance Theater, Italy’s Maestro Antonio Fava—actor, director, teacher, practitioner, mask-maker, and author of one of the most comprehensive works on the famous Commedia dell’Arte—has taught quite a few Philadelphia-area actors and directors, including Cubby Altobelli, John Bellomo, Aaron Cromie, Dave Jadico, Rick Kemp, Benjamin Lloyd, Charles McMahon, Karen Saillant, Craig Tavani, and Blanka Zizka.

Local actors and dramaturgs are currently taking his one-week intensive at the Philadelphia Ethical Society, sponsored by the International Opera Theatre. The participants of the intensive workshop come from Harvard, New York, throughout Pennsylvania, and as far as California to study with Maestro Fava. Next week, he will teach at universities and works with private theater companies in the greater Philadelphia area.

Craig Tavani, actor-director; instructor at Immaculata University; and director of the fall plays at Phoenixville Area High School. He considers his vocation to be a socio-dramatist, applying theatre to “real life.” His experience with Antonio Fava greatly impacted his vision of theater and his own life. Tavani, with great joy, like other Fava followers, shared his perceptions of working with the Italian Maestro.

Henrik Eger: How do you feel about one of the most famous masters of Italian Renaissance theater flying in from Italy?

Craig Tavani: I am thrilled that World renowned Commedia dell’Arte Maestro Antonio Fava comes to Philadelphia in February. Having studied under Maestro Fava when he came to Philadelphia some years ago, I admire what he does, [teaching] authentic Renaissance commedia, the highest form of theater during the Renaissance.

Eger: How would you describe Fava’s style of teaching?

Tavani: Maestro Fava’s teaching style is something I want to emulate, especially his encouraging way of criticizing someone’s work—what I call critical kindness. When I teach Commedia, I am very much aware of what I learned from Maestro Fava, although I have made it my own, conformed to my own purposes in accordance with the resources available to me. As in life off-stage, behavior on stage is mostly a matter of body and breath being experienced in relationship with others.

Eger: Compared to other methods of teaching acting, what struck you as being different with his approach?

Tavani: In Commedia dell’arte, performance is much a matter of ensemble acting. Being a human being is to be with others. Training programs [in the US tend to] ignore much that is vital to the performer as a whole person in the society of others. Fava significantly emphasized the ensemble aspect of commedia. This gives a freedom to playing that liberates the performer.

I model my teaching after Fava’s very practical approach of getting students to DO STUFF right away. Maestro Fava has students perform immediately the same day as the lessons they just learned. He uses an actual audience to test what one has been taught.

Eger: You seem to have quite a bit in common with the Italian Renaissance teacher.

Tavani: Maestro Fava’s family works with him in teaching and performing. [Similarly,] I started the Theatre Guild at Phoenixville Area High School with my wife, Christine. Our whole family was involved together.

​Eger: Could you give an example of how you introduced Commedia plays into an American environment?

Tavani: We have done commedia plays twice. Both were written by Hillary DePiano, adapting Carl Gozzi’s original work. The first was in 2007, The Love of Three Oranges. The second, in 2015, was The Green Bird. Our production was the play’s world premiere. In honor of Maestro Fava, I incorporated my own addition of a number of zanni characters [Zanni, a popular Commedia dell'arte character type, best known as a shrewd servant and trickster, first appeared in commedia seven centuries ago]—mostly [using] Pulcinella masks. I always seem to include some sort of zanni in anything I do.

Eger: His approach seems quite different from more general American ways of teaching improvisation. Was there ever any opposition to it by your drama students?

Tavani: It was a lot of work. Teaching masked acting is a bit of a hard sell. My biggest challenge was to convince my students to do a masked piece in our day and age. My wife teaches a commedia section in her theatre class which I help her teach each semester, so we have had the opportunity to familiarize a number of the students beforehand. Plus, the weekly workshops give me plenty of opportunity to teach them improvisational stuff, much of it influenced by my experience with Maestro Fava. Even though most improvisation may not be masked, I still insist on whole body acting and breathing.

Eger: You have read Fava’s famous work on Commedia dell’Arte.

Tavani: I admire what Maestro Fava wrote in his preface to his work on Pulcinella [a classical, Neapolitan character from Commedia dell’Arte, also known as Punch in the English speaking world. I was inspired by the following section in his introduction to Pulcinella, The Character Who Kept the Commedia dell’Arte Alive where he wrote:

In my work, through the great mask of Pulcinella, I will talk of the poetic and aesthetic essence of Commedia. I will talk of the technique and how-to-act, that is, physically, the structure of the Commedia. [. . .] It lies in the direct relationship between people, between social human beings, in two ways: in the situations presented on the stage and in the play given by the actors to the audience.

Eger: Did Fava model certain modes of acting?

Tavani: What I love about his teaching is how he models this in his classes, getting students to act freely, “mistakes” and all. There was a trust developed beyond any sort of relationship we could have created, apart from the challenge of having to perform together in public. I learned something deep that remains with me to this day—then as an actor, now as a director. I have tried to pass this [practice] on to the actors I now teach. Yes, it is hard work.

Eger: Hard work? Learning how to improvise often gets advertised as something easy that almost anyone can do.

Tavani: Somehowit has gotten into people’s heads that improv is just spontaneous silliness or forcing everything to be funny. Maestro Fava’s class was grueling, but should not each human relationship be something for which one is willing to work just as hard? Maestro Fava taught me the value of disciplined practice and serious theatre—no matter how comic.

Antonio Fava, world renowned Commedia dell’Arte expert, master classes in Philadelphia, sponsored by the International Opera Theatre at the Ethical Society of Philadelphia, February 8-12, followed by special visits to universities and theaters in the greater Philadelphia area, from February 15-19, 2016. Contact Karen Saillant at karen@internationaloperatheater.org for further information.

Originally posted by Phindie.

​Eger: This famous comedy of errors—one of the finest satires of human weaknesses—is as relevant today as it was in the 1830s. In your production, are there any references to our own time, however subtle?

Brock: No references to Trump, although there is a pop-up devil face in the upper stage left corner that gets plenty of action. The angel is located on the center upstage stage door. The angel absorbs quite a few door slams over the course of the play.

Eger: What did you do to trim this five-act play to get it to a running time under two hours?

Brock: Cut the heck out of the lines that were repeated more than three times.

Eger: The original script by Gogol does not ask for a musical score. Why did you decide to introduce music, and how does it blend in without destroying the satirical aspect of the play?

Brock: Much of the sound in Inspector comes from the Grand Budapest Hotel sound track by Alexandre Desplat. I am a big fan of his sound scoring for film and thought this show would be aided by the momentum of a sound score. He has scored many films; his work is brilliant and suited the design of the show. The Grand Budapest Hotel [2014] was a favorite film of mine: the specificity and structure of film director Wes Anderson’s work, his love of the crazy characters inhabiting his absurd worlds. He has a love for outsiders trying to make their way under very difficult circumstances, in a world that, for some of us, seems to be heading in the wrong direction.

Eger: You always spend a great deal of time working with your stage designers to enhance all IRC plays, in spite of your shoestring budget.

Brock: This is a circus on the stage—a ridiculous affair that we see unfold. The set design for Inspector was built to invoke both the surprise of an advent calendar—what fun will appear today?—and the social commentary of the old Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In show [1968-73] with guests like Judy Carne and Arte Johnson popping out to deliver the asides of the day.

Designers Lisi Stoessel, Maria Shaplin, and Janus Stefanowicz are really fine collaborators. Lisi and I started with discussions about cards, playing cards, showing your hand—which figures in this play in a big way as Khlestakov (the government inspector) tools around from town to town, playing cards, winning money, losing it in the next town, betting all he has on chance, and then bribing the townspeople with his charisma and charm to load up with cash for the next foray.

Eger: The article about you as the director of Ionesco’s Exit the King taking on the lead role because the star of the show was ill became one of the most widely read features on Phindie. This year, there can’t be a directorial repeat performance because this time you are part of the ensemble. What if something happens to you or another cast member?

Brock: I have a very small role in this show, sharing with another performer. There is always the chance that illness, injury, or personal issues will happen. It’s winter, performers get sick, snow and ice eat into rehearsal time, injury—things happen. If we have to make adjustments, if I have to jump in, that’s what we do. That’s part of making it happen. In ten years, this has only happened twice for the IRC. That’s a consistent track record of delivering. You do what you have to do, yes?

Live theater is a demanding form, and I’m difficult to work for so that can be a tricky combination. However, since we have an ensemble of performers, we can be flexible in calling on people who have worked with us consistently—they know the form and can jump into the circus with no preparation. I think our audience appreciates the attitude that we will go to the ends to get the show up and going. They look forward to our productions and expect we will employ creative solutions to the many challenges we face in the course of a production. Ten years has produced a lot of performers who rotate in and out, depending on home and work responsibilities. I hope many will be performing with us for many years.

Eger: In your search for the best surreal plays, what themes resonated for you that you will introduce later this year and next year?

Brock: In 2016, heading back to serenity for Ionesco’s The Chairs, a beauty on many levels (Fringe 2016); Ives’ Lives of the Saints (November 2016); Ludlum’s The Artificial Jungle (date TBD); Albee’s The America Dream (date TBD); Stoppard’s Jumpers (date TBD); and Beckett’s Shorts and Endgame (date TBD).

Eger: Is there anything else you would like to share?

Brock: I am interested in exploring what we do with silence: how it terrifies, informs, soothes, and provides a safe haven from this absurd world we inhabit. And, thank you and Phindie for all you do to illuminate the process of our productions.

Eger: Thank you, Tina, and curtain up for THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR—a world classic and another surreal IRC gem.
​
Idiopathic Ridiculopathy Consortium’s production of THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTORby Nikolai Gogol, directed by Tina Brock runs through February 28, 2015, at Walnut Street Theater Studio 5, 825 Walnut Street, Philadelphia. 215.285.0472 or idiopathicridiculopathyconsortium.org.

This interview was originally published by Phindie on February 15, 2016. 

​The characters in Nikolai Gogol’s The Government Inspector lack love and sympathy for others. It’s this absence of empathy among members of the ruling class and their irresponsibility, corruption, and unwillingness to take positive action which led to protests by Russian conservatives in the reactionary press when it was first produced. 

Gogol had become famous through his short stories. He abandoned his first few plays, fearing censorship of the ruling class. In 1835, he asked his friend Pushkin to send him an idea of something very Russian that Gogol wanted to turn into a satirical play. “My hand is itching to write a comedy. . . . Give me a subject and I’ll knock off a comedy in five acts — I promise, funnier than hell. For God’s sake, do it. My mind and stomach are both famished.”

In this two-part interview, Idiopathic Ridiculopathy Consortium (IRC) director Tina Brock shares facts and her insights on Gogol’s unique showcase of despicable government officials.
[Walnut Street Theatre Studio 5, 825 Walnut Street, 5th floor] February 2-28, 2016; idiopathicridiculopathyconsortium.org.

This interview was originally published by Phindie on February 8, 2016.