Now I am writing from San Diego, where rehearsals for a new production of Engaging Shaw at the Old Globe Theatre are about to start. I plan to keep a diary of the rehearsal process, but don’t want to skip an entire year of productions, some of which were successful. So first let me recount how I got here, play by play, and in the present tense:

ENGAGING SHAW: Shortly after the production of Shaw at Abingdon Theatre closes, I receive a number of unsolicited requests for the script. Two of these requests result in future productions. The first is Old Globe, currently in rehearsal, and the other is from the English Theatre of Vienna in Austria, scheduled for April 2012. I direct my agent to approach the theaters in Washington and Baltimore about producing Engaging Shaw since I’m local, but not one DC area theater even asks to read the script. The dramaturg at Center Stage, where I’d worked for many years to promote their Young Playwrights Festival, jokes to my agent that they don’t need to see my script because they prefer plays written by my son, a three time winner at YPF. After 21 years of banging on doors in the DC/Baltimore area, I’ve had enough.

A THING FOR REDHEADS: With visions of international success dancing in my head, I dive headlong into a disaster at home. A Thing For Redheads at the 2010 Capital Fringe Festival is the most frustrating theatrical experience I’ve had in sixteen years. And the blame is entirely mine. I wrote Redheads in only three days to satisfy a grant deadline in 2009, but that’s not an excuse. I had more than a year to revise it and did not avail myself of the opportunity. From the script, to the casting, to the direction, to the set design, to the marketing campaign, if I was not directly responsible for their failure I am certainly responsible for not intervening to prevent the failure that clearly awaited. The only joyful moment in the show is the part with which I had nothing to do, the song that Lori Boyd wrote for the obligatory scene.

One critic writes that the script “would not go as far as Morogiello’s others.” Ironically, later in the year, a scene from the play is selected for publication in The Best Women’s Stage Monologues And Scenes 2011, which is a trade book publication. Therefore it is farther than any of my other plays have gone. Excited by the possibilities of further life for the play once a portion is published, I revisit the script. But after two pages, I can’t bear it. Too many bad memories bubble to the surface.

Productions like this are good to have once in awhile. They keep me honest and humble. Perhaps the strangest part of that particular fringe festival is being recognized by two total strangers. One asks for me by name. The other asks if I am “the Irish Authors guy.” Funny how you never realize you have a fan base until you alienate them.

GIANNI SCHICCHI: Post-Shaw and Pre-Redheads, I complete the first draft of a play called Comedy Of Venice. Giving it a quick glance, I realize that on an unconscious level the play is about me saying goodbye to the theater community in Washington, DC. But on a more deeply unconscious level what I have really done is rewritten a play I first constructed in my twenties, an adaptation of Puccini’s opera Gianni Schicchi. Unhappy with Comedy Of Venice and recalling many happy memories of Schicchi, I decide to bid Washington farewell by self-producing the latter play in the fall of 2010 with myself in the title role.

I am pleased with the cast we put together, particularly Terence Aselford, who is one of my favorite actors both to work with and to watch. I also enjoy Rachel Meloan’s performance of “O Mio Babbino Caro” during the curtain call. The script, I think, is in its strongest shape yet, after some significant cuts to the prologue and epilogue. It’s funny how items with which I swore never to part when I was 27 are discarded so easily nearly two decades later. I am happy to play a role I always intended for myself, but I suspect I am the darkest Schicchi the script has ever seen. The aspect of the production I most enjoy is being able to work closely with my wife, who designs the costumes and manages the house.

We receive a lot of preview press from the county weekly and from the Italian American community but for some reason the major newspapers choose to ignore us, despite how brazenly we try to sell them on the recent additions to my resume. The result is four weeks of empty houses. The few who attend react positively and the internet reviews mostly follow suit. Though none of them are outright raves, not a single review criticizes the script. Probably because of its production history, all of the critics accept the script as a finished product. Somehow, it has crossed through the mystic portal from the savage land of “new script” to the civilized kingdom of “established play.”

THE MATCHMAKER’S GUIDE TO CONTROLLING THE UNIVERSE: Running simultaneously with Schicchi, but way up in the Finger Lakes, is this one-act. There, Bob Frame, who is a great guy and a wonderful supporter of my work, runs Harlequin Productions for the students at Cayuga Community College in Auburn, New York. I’ve always loved this script. It’s light, it’s silly, and it’s incredibly easy to produce. I renovate it for the production, updating the references and incorporating revisions I’d made for the film version, but I am unable to attend the production because of Schicchi. They send me a DVD, which is a lot of fun. Bob and the cast hit just the right combination of romance and petulance.

COMEDY OF VENICE: Done with Schicchi, I attempt to salvage this play about the rivalry between Goldoni and Gozzi, two 18th Century Venetian playwrights. By January I have a draft that almost seems serviceable. But a serviceable script no longer strikes me as good enough. If I am to continue in this business, I need to match or exceed the quality of Engaging Shaw, not suffer through another Redheads. To test the script’s quality, I decide to host a private reading at my house, using a few close actor friends around whom I’m not afraid to fail. Though I miscast one of the roles, the reading goes well. Again, Terence Aselford makes me laugh harder than anyone. And yet, I’m still insecure about the script. Afterwards, Misty Demory, the actress playing Smeraldina, tells me that Constellation Theatre, a company in DC to which she belongs, is doing a Gozzi play in the spring. Would I be willing to let them mount a reading of Comedy Of Venice to coincide with the production?

Of course I would.

Constellation insists that only company members perform in the reading, so I am unable to use Terence. But I am very impressed with the comic abilities of the cast and director, Rex Daugherty. In particular, I have no idea Gozzi is funny until I hear John Michael MacDonald’s interpretation. During the reading, I sit beside Constellation’s Artistic Director, Allison Stockman, and add a joke to the play specifically for her benefit, advertising her production of The Green Bird. About thirty people attend, laughing more than I anticipated. I cannot determine if the laughter is due to the performers, the script, or to the friendliness of the house. But I am pleased in any case.

YOUNG TURG: In early spring 2011, I get a call from Kim Sharp, asking to mount a reading of Young Turg at Abingdon Theatre Company in New York. He suggests Jackob Hofmann as director, since we worked so well together during Shaw the previous year. I happily agree to both the reading and Jackob.

Young Turg is the script I wrote directly before Shaw. It’s a bitterly comic indictment of office politics in a regional theater’s literary office. I like the script, but I confess to being surprised that Abingdon made the offer since I’d been told it’s not the sort of play that appeals to them. Naturally, I am happy to be wrong.

Jackob and I both agree to ask Jan Buttram, the Artistic Director, to read one of the roles and she readily agrees. Rehearsing with Jackob in the Abingdon space conjures many pleasant and comfortable memories of the Engaging Shaw production. Having most of the Shaw cast in the audience to support me only adds to my delight. Between the rehearsal and the performance, I have dinner with Henry Wishcamper, who will be directing Shaw at Old Globe. After dinner, Henry accompanies me to the reading of Young Turg, and sits beside Old Globe’s former director of new play development, who happens to be in town. Suddenly it feels as though a lot is at stake. And as the reading begins, I am struck with horror by how obvious are the script’s flaws. With every line, I squirm and wince and beg for death. A college friend of mine leaves during intermission. Henry leaves before the talkback. I assume a brave face and take the stage, fully expecting the vitriol of a multitude at the small of my back.

But it’s wonderful. Not only are there more positive comments than I expected, but the criticisms, questions, and suggestions are universally sound and supportive. As always, Kim Sharp has one thing to say which goes to the heart of what needs to be fixed. I take copious notes.

Afterwards, Jackob, his partner Hugh, and I repair to the Houndstooth Pub with Shaw alumnae Claire Warden & Victoria Vance, and a dear friend of mine from college named JoAnn. Everyone provides me with an unending parade of ideas to spark revision, but Claire commands my attention. She recalls specific lines–and words within lines–despite never having read the script before. She directs me to changes I’d not considered and directs me away from changes others had suggested. That and a later conversation with Jackob solidify in my mind what the script needs.

I overhaul the script like I’d never done before. Entire scenes are cut. Others are added. Plot points that were only implied are now fully explored. I send the new script to Jackob and he is effusive with his praise. He recommends it strongly to Abingdon and they agree, offering me the opening slot in their upcoming season. The only problem: Nobody likes the title.

I’m sad to confess that I don’t write good titles. If they’re not outright dull, they’re so obscure nobody cares. So I make a list of possible alternatives and email friends, asking them which ones they like. No consensus results.

Then I discover a quote by an author referred to in the play, which I think is perfect. My agent agrees, so I post the new title as a fait accompli on Facebook. Within minutes, I get a call from Jan at Abingdon. They hate the new title even more than Young Turg. Implicit in the conversation is a threat that if I stick with my new title, they will rescind the production offer. Desperate, I call Jackob. He suggests a cute reworking of one of my lines: Blame It On Beckett. Perhaps I think it is brilliant or perhaps I am overstressed, but I laugh immoderately and directly concur. I will maintain a diary of that production too, when it rehearses.

But not now. This entry is much longer than I hoped it would be. I am now nearing the end of the first week of Shaw rehearsals at Old Globe. I will recount that experience soon.

The other play is Jack The Ticket Ripper, a comic revenge tragedy in one act. It is hilariously sick. No official word on the cast yet, but Catherine Aselford is directing the show. It is being produced by The Georgetown Theatre Company.

Below are the dates and times. Be sure to mark your calendars!

Irish Authors Held Hostage
presented by
J.T. Burian Theatricals
 

Venue

The Bodega – at The Corner Store
1013 7th ST NW, Washington DC 20001
 

Performance Times:

Friday July 10 @ 5pm
Sunday July 12 @ 5pm
Thursday July 16 @ 7pm
Saturday July 25 @ 11pm
Sunday July 26 @ 2:15
 

Jack the Ticket Ripper
presented by
The Georgetown Theatre Company

Venue

Goethe Institut – Gallery
812 7th Street NW, Washington DC 20001
 

Performance Times:

Saturday July 11 @ 9pm
Sunday July 12 @Noon
Thursday July 16 @ 6:30pm
Saturday July 18 @ 6pm
Sunday July 19 @2:30pm

I made the film in 2007, to keep myself from going insane after the plans for a Boston production of Irish Authors Held Hostage fell through. As such, it served its purpose.

But don’t just let me do a horrible job of promoting it, look at this trailer from YouTube:

I’m planning to revamp my website in the next week or so. There will be a more visible link at that time.

I hope to have one final scene from Irish Authors Held Hostage posted by the end of the week, something that will show off our wonderful actress, Lori Boyd. We hope to mount the show again at the Capital Fringe Festival in summer 2009.

Also, I’ll be performing in staged readings of student plays at Creative Alliance in Baltimore on September 18. Christine Stewart of MSAC asked me to take part. First rehearsal is tonight. Should be fun.