Veterans' Voices

Yesterday’s rehearsal with the band and the artists was amazing. Thanks to a creative and disciplined week of writing, I was able to hand each of them sheet music instead of a pile of scribbled notes. We sat down on the beautiful mainstage at ArtYard and one by one, met with the 5 artists and played them their score as if we’d been playing together all week. These musicians are seriously talented. My only pang of longing is that I wish I’d written more.

Today, we’ll have a 9 am tech rehearsal to light and cue the crankies. Then, the artists will put the finishing touches on their scrolls while the musicians make any final adjustments and additions to the score.

I was remiss yesterday to not give a gigantic shoutout to the man and organization behind this and so many other of my opportunities to compose music: Dan Swern and coLAB Arts. When Dan envisioned this residency, he advocated for live, original music and he sold ArtYard on the idea that one person could come in and write all of it in one week and perform it live with other musicians. coLAB offered, ArtYard accepted, and I know I’ve delivered. My hat is always off to coLAB, my bald white head bowing to their commitment to transformative new works of art.

That’s it for today. I’ve woken up early with peace of mind and a feeling of ease, which is something to be grateful for at the end of a week like this.

Show’s at 7. You should come.

ArtYard, Still They Fly

I meant to write a post every day this week like I did for A Healthy Marriage, but if that was a tech week to end all tech weeks, then this has been a tech month squeezed into a week.

Since Sunday, I’ve been privileged with the opportunity to be resident composer for ArtYard in Frenchtown, NJ. Over the course of 5 days, I would work with 5 artists to write original music that would accompany stories they’d be telling to a live audience at the end of the residency. I’ve done stuff like this before: Comic in a Day, 48-Hour Musicals (the birthplace of The Eleventh Hour!), Ensemble Project, not to mention years of jazz improv lessons. For me, writing original music is- has been since I was 11 or 12 and asked my mom to switch me from the classical track to the jazz track- like breathing. I remember saying to my jazz teacher as an ignorant and honest teen, “I don’t like classical because I don’t want to just play someone else’s music.”

What I had not done before is involve so many other musicians in my rapid creative process. ArtYard did not just want a man at a piano or a singer-songwriter with a guitar; they wanted a band (or an “orchestra,” as the tech director says). Unsure though I was, I knew that while I had not ever composed something so quickly for other live musicians (with busy lives and unique skillsets and artistic integrity of their own), in A Healthy Marriage I brought the musicians up to speed in about 2 days on an original score with over 30 unique songs. I didn’t know how, but I knew I could. I often tell myself and others that in the theatre business, you can always take comfort in knowing that “by this time next week, you’ll already have done it.”

  • Piano/keyboard/synth/guitar- me

  • Drums/percussion- Dan McMillan

  • Upright bass/double bass/electric bass- Jason Rivera

  • Oboe/English horn- Fabian Schulz

Together, we will play original music to elevate and deepen stories of veterans from the Frenchtown area in a night of “crankie” theatre called “Veterans Voices.” Get tickets here. Each crankie is being deliberately and lovingly built by hand by one of the five other resident artists and will tell a story of an individual who gave them an oral history. These are not all “war stories.” They are stories of having served and the ripple effect it has had on life.

Today, Friday, the band comes to town. My sheet music and software instrument demos are in their hands. From 10 am to 10 pm, we will rehearse in two-hour blocks with the five artists. Then we will all retire back to the house- ten people where all week there have been 5- for one last sleep before the big day.

One of the artists, Elsa Mora (who is also the artistic director of ArtYard) is working on a crankie about a trans woman who joined the air force as a pilot after a lifelong interest in airplanes. After serving (while presenting male), she came out to her family and began living as her true self. She now has an interest in birds. Elsa explained to me the poetry and symbolism of that transformation. An airplane and a bird still fly, but while one requires fuel, metal, a pod inside it, physics, training, discipline, roaring noise, rules, rules, rules…the other just flies, like it was born to do.

Show Day! February 19, 2023

It’s here! The concert reading of A Healthy Marriage: The Hall-Mills Murders! I write this from the studio at the State Theatre during our cue to cue. Bad news first: I have a headache, I’m a little tired, and we haven’t run the show yet.

Good news: the music is fire!!! The scenes are cooking!! The actors are having fun and so am I!! This is a story being told by people who sound like they need to tell it. Or, more aptly for this piece, they sound like they want to tell it! These characters here are poor, bored, hungry, and they feel existentially like boulders in a rushing river. Oral history is, for them, a pastime. Work is work, home is home- this is entertainment. And what’s better entertainment than a story that can be embellished in the telling? This is 1929, no one’s going to whip out their phone to fact check each other and Ken Burns won’t be born for another 25 years. In A Healthy Marriage: The Hall-Mills Murders, the story was how it is told.

That’s how I heard it! My pop pop told it to me. And in the years since I’ve heard other people tell it to me like it happened to them. That’s what this story does to people, it makes you want to tell it. I hope people leave this concert reading inspired to dig into the case on their own so that they can tell it in their own way.

When the day goes down, our history can define us, and- if we agree- align us.

Rehearsal #5, February 17, 2023

One, two, check, check, fuzzy check.

Hey! Two! Two! Three! Loud VOLUME!

Three blind jellyfish sitting on a rock.

Is there fuzzy? I think a little bit!

There’s no easy way to show people an original musical. People can read it, listen to recordings, look at storyboards…but to actually show someone what you’ve done is an uphill climb that gets steep quick.

A friend and colleague of mine, playwright and author RC Staab, once showed me some tough love when I was writing my first musical. I brought him the script and a bunch of demos to get some feedback and see if he was interested in helping me make some connections. He looked at the script and read the first and last page. Then he asked me if I was singing on every demo. “….yes?” He didn’t want to hear them. His point was that at the end of the day, anyone who you want to produce your musical needs the writer to have done a lot more than just write a show. (Ultimately, RC did read and listen and came to see the show when it went up at Town Stages in 2018. He’s got two books out about New Jersey tourism that are must reads- look him up).

You have to hold your own readings of the material with trusted (and talented) artists who are willing to work for free. You need to call in favors to singers and musicians to help you make demos (and you need to be there for their projects in return). You need an infusion of cash to get your first public reading together. You’ll want to do it right (realistically, anywhere between $500 and $5,000 depending on your goals). Get a venue, a lighting designer, sound designer, stage manager, director, actors, musicians- and pay as many of them as you can if the venue costs don’t clean you out. Put a guest list together and invite institutions over individuals. Invite them personally.

Tap into your inner, younger theatre lover. You want to put up a show. Do everything you can to elevate each aspect of the event. Can you get creative with costumes, sets, and concepts within the scope of your budget? Can you customize and personalize the venue? How can the audience engage with the piece (a survey, a QR code to some dramaturgy about the piece, a context room, etc)? Can you find a way to make yourself excited about your own show? If you’re not excited, why should we be?

By the time you’re ready to show your musical (not your script, demos, score, or ideas- your actual musical), you’re showing them the art in its present form and- it’s cliche but true- the whole experience of seeing it. It’s an act of community building and culture creation. You wrote a musical- it’s a huge responsibility.

Tonight is the last rehearsal before we combine cast, band, lights, and sound for 12 hours tomorrow. I know from experience that a moment(s) will come tomorrow where I get frustrated. I will actively remind myself that as proud as I am of what I’ve written, I need to take pride in everything that’s come after clicking Print. I won’t weigh which is more difficult, writing or producing. Both make me crazy sometimes. But I am going to work through the frustration because I’m showing people a new musical and I have a director, stage manager, lighting, and a sound designer who is testing mics that will, in a few short minutes, go over the ears of actors who have given their talents to my work alongside musicians who are turning my dreams to reality.

Hey TWO TWO!

Emotion, Emotion

Sad, quiet moment…

LOUD MOMENT!

Rehearsal #4, February 16, 2023

Today, Dan (director), Hannah (stage manager), and I got to see the performance space: The Studio at the State Theatre. Newly renovated since covid closure, the interior of the State Theatre looks as good as I’ve ever seen it. Last time I was there was for a Blues Traveler concert in 2017 with my in-laws and it was not as glamorous as what I saw this afternoon. I learned today that the State Theatre was built in 1921, the year before the Hall-Mills murders took place. There’s something poetic about putting up this show there. Years ago, I really wanted this to go up at the George Street Playhouse. Now that I’m 72 hours from opening at the historic State Theatre, I think it’s exactly where it belongs.

So who’s in this show?

  • Mariella Klinger-Seamon (Eleanor Mills): my wife! We’ve been doing shows together since Jesus Christ Superstar in 2011 and we’ve worked in every role on both sides of the table.

  • Frank Andrews (James Mills): Frank and I met as singers for the Hall of Distinguished Alumnae Awards Dinner at Rutgers in 2014 under the direction of Jason Goldstein. I actually saw him years before in a cabaret, but we didn’t know each other yet. We did Spamalot at Plays-in-the-Park in 2013 and have kept in good touch ever since.

  • Crystal Huau (Frances Hall): Crystal was recommended to me by a friend at Villagers Theatre when I told her I was looking for a soprano with acting chops who would be comfortable with a cold read/sing in front of an audience (it’s not entirely cold, we are rehearsing, but it’s quick).

  • William Kennedy Carey (Edward Hall): It’s Will! If you’ve seen me in shows since 2008, you’ve seen Will. Say hi when you see him! He’s one of my favorite singers and actors and a great person to work with.

  • Stephanie Ragos (Wickian): Stephanie and I met while doing Spongebob at Villagers in Spring 2022, and I’m loving her in this show!

  • Ajit Mathews (Wickian): Ajit is another new friend whom I met when he officiated a wedding I attended! He’s a director, actor, singer, and an ordained minister with the Universal Life Church. I got to see a production of Godspell he directed and it was the best one I’d seen since Cabaret Theatre in 2011.

  • Gaby Resende (Wickian): Gaby and I worked together on a production of In the Heights in 2017 at Trilogy Repertory and have kept in touch ever since! She sings the first line in the show.

  • Dusty Ballard (Wickian): It’s Dusty! We met doing Razia’s Shadow at Playhouse 22 in 2011, then did Romeo and Juliet at Kean University. We’ve been friends and colleagues ever since at George Street Playhouse, coLAB Arts, Middlesex County College, The Eleventh Hour, the list goes on.

  • Amy Suznovich (Wickian): Amy and I went to high school together at Bishop Ahr (now Saint Thomas Aquinas). We’ve stayed connected on social media in the intervening 15 years- even got to work together in Our Town Now at George Street Playhouse.

What’s a Wickian, you ask?

A Wickian is a resident of New Brunswick. A Wickian lives low to the ground and lean in the pocket. Their wealth is knowledge and their marketplace is conversation, even as the real world may pass by unnoticed. While Wickians come from all continents, they speak a universal love language of food. While they nourish their bellies, they embellish their memories, laughing and crying their way through their shared history over a hot meal (which, at the time of the play, is hard to come by). While a Wickian is hungry for information- even at the expense of spilling a secret- they are not craven, nor do they delight in the suffering of others. It is this trait that keeps the Wickians stuck in their place; that no matter how deep a secret they’d offer up for discussion, they’d never use it against each other.

Rehearsal #3, February 15, 2023

Last night, we got to the murders. We didn’t finish blocking it (we’ll be doing that in about 35 minutes !!!), but we arrived at the moment. I feel so much pressure to do this part right.

The murders themselves have been a large part of my rewriting process since I finished the first draft of this show in early 2019. Structurally speaking, in a musical, where should two main characters die? They could die in the opening number, and I could use the murder scene investigation as a framing device for the whole show. The story could be told by police, journalists, and onlookers at the scene of the crime. Act I could be character introductions and end with the reveal of an eyewitness. Act II could be the dramatization of the eyewitness’ testimonies and end with the case being beaten by the defense (that’s what happened).

The murders could occur at the end of Act I. It would be similar to the first option, but instead of framing the show around the crime scene, it would be told in chronological order. This option provides a lot of possible framing devices: the story being told over a drink at a pub, a true crime podcaster doing a deep dive into the archives at the New Brunswick library, or a young Wickian (me!) hearing the story from his cop grandpa at the dinner table. This was the structure of the first version of this show I ever staged at the Jersey City Theatre Center, Lovers’ Lane. The framing device I chose was to have the choir tell the story one week after the murders. They gathered for rehearsal minus one singer and one director and told the story as they remembered it.

The murders could happen before the action of the show. There is definitely enough material in this story for a show that is squarely focused on the two trials and the surrounding media circus. Joe Pompeo’s Blood and Ink and Gerald Tomlinson’s Fatal Tryst take an approach like this; towering efforts of research and analysis laid out in colorful narrative in the shadow of a crime that’s occurred before you open the book.

With A Healthy Marriage: The Hall-Mills Murders my intention has been to give my whole heart to the four people at the center of the story: Edward, Eleanor, Frances, and James (played respectively by Will, Mariella, Crystal, and Frank). I wanted to take my time with them, let them breathe, grow, love, ache, and act within their small community; give the people around them a reason to tell the story. What happens in the space between marriage and murder? Who would know? How would they tell it?

The forensics of the murders themselves have been well-investigated by criminologists for a hundred years, and I have a stack of books and articles I can recommend for a thorough understanding of the events of September 14, 1922. In A Healthy Marriage, the murders occur like a dream, a flash before waking. Stunning, sudden, and senseless.

While I’ve been writing this, we’ve arrived at the moment. Director Dan is elevating this material beyond my imagination. I love watching him work with these actors.

Can’t believe it’s already Wednesday!!

Rehearsal #2, February 14, 2023

Yesterday’s rehearsal was amazing. In this process I’m having several manifested moments where a song or a line of dialogue sounds exactly like it did in my head when I wrote it. I’m taking them all as good omens, deja vu that bodes success.

This cast is made up of NJ-based actors from every era of my career in theatre and music: Rutgers, Kean, George Street Playhouse, Plays-in-the-Park, the children’s theatre tour I did (shoutout to my then-costar now-wife Mariella!), The Eleventh Hour, and NJ Community Theatre. We initially wanted to do this as an Equity contract, but circumstances wouldn’t allow it. Was I disappointed? Yeah for about eight seconds before I realized that meant I could cast from the fathoms-deep ocean of ultra talented non-union actors from New Jersey. A teeming mass of talented artists who- when they’re not rapping on New York’s door- put out truthful and powerful work all year round while working full-time in careers across every conceivable industry.

My first show was about basement bands, this show is about power dynamics between social classes- I guess I’m always writing from the perspective of people who operate outside the mainstream, tilling the deep soil. Only 200 people will see A Healthy Marriage this weekend until we find a way to produce it again. How underground is that? If you’re coming this weekend, tell the world!

Tonight’s rehearsal is all character work among the four principals. Director Dan Swern is currently peeling back the superficial layers of character to expose the beating (bleeding? BLEATING?) hearts of Frances and Edward with actors Crystal Huau and William Kennedy Carey. In a little while, Frank Andrews and Mariella Klinger-Seamon will arrive to add Eleanor and James to the mix. Tonight is all about tension. Think I’ll get an espresso.

Rehearsal #1 For A Healthy Marriage!

Tonight is rehearsal #1 for my new musical, A Healthy Marriage: The Hall-Mills Murders. Check out my artistic statement below:

The Hall-Mills murder has been discussed around dinner tables in New Brunswick, New Jersey since it occurred in 1922. Who did it? Why? Why was no one ever charged? Everyone from town has their own spin, and often their own personal connection. With “A Healthy Marriage: The Hall Mills Murders,” I set out to tell the story not as it happened, but as it has been told through oral history. 

I heard it at my dinner table from my grandpa in 1994. I was 6. He was an ex-cop who, in his view, solved the case long ago, pinning the whole thing on a vengeful woman (a take that persists around many tables today). And so the story (which I differentiate from the “case”) became a cautionary tale about the scorned heiress who had her way. If you cheat, you could end up dead; If you’re too cold, your spouse may run out on you; If they’re not getting it at home, they’re getting it somewhere else. It’s easy for onlookers to turn the facts of the case into a one-sentence finger wag, but the story is much more complex. Before the case, there were four people who did not want to lie, steal, or kill. Four married people. But for two of them, something beautiful formed outside of that paradigm. And for the other two, something horrific. Love and pain, truth and disgust, faith and fear. In this musical, someone takes a shot at changing their life for the better. A friendship forms, hearts break, and violence has the final word. 

This story is seen through the eyes of the locals- or as I call them, the Wickians- who experience amusement, titillation, righteousness, and fear as the affairs of the well-to-do class turn to bloody murder. We meet them in 1929, seven years after the killings, at the border between short and long term memory, where stories turn to legends.

 We open on Sunday, February 19 at The State (FREAKIN!) Theatre in New Brunswick! Tickets at hallmills.com (lies, we’re sold out. But that’s also exciting!)

REVAMPING THE WEBSITE!

It’s November 5, 2020. I’m sitting at my kitchen table in my new apartment, eating oatmeal with blueberries and bananas, and drinking coffee. Today, I have a few remote meetings in the afternoon. Besides that, I’ll be watching election results and hopefully getting outside for a walk. It’s a beautiful day in New Jersey.

I’m making some tweaks to the website, which is hard for me. Squarespace is probably the most user friendly option out there, but I still feel like I am barely using it to its potential. I had a computer crash two weeks ago and I lost a lot of music I hadn’t backed up, but I found that some of it is here on this website. If only I could figure out how to pull it off the Squarespace back end and safely onto my hard drive. I have an email out to the support team, so we’ll see.

I’m trying to get a virtual Eleventh Hour event off the ground for late December, and am also beginning work on two virtual theatre projects that will come to fruition next Spring. Virtual theatre is becoming an area of expertise for me. Since March, I’ve worked on these virtual theatre pieces:

  • The Ensemble Project- 6 original nonfiction musicals by 4th graders.

  • Romeo and Juliet- a truncated cut of Shakespeare’s play, with a virtual group of teenagers

  • Mickle Fust- an original musical by Rich Armstead and me. We performed that one LIVE on Streamyard.

  • The Last City- an original musical I wrote with a group of teens that we performed live on Zoom.

  • Twelfth Night- a high school musical that had to go virtual ONE WEEK BEFORE OPENING! We pivoted to virtual and presented a two-night broadcast of footage the students created in their homes of themselves singing, reading lines, and dancing. It was awesome.

I like virtual theatre because I feel like I have a uniquely positive mindset about it. What are the assets? So many people look at theatre in Covid from a deficit perspective: what did we lose? It causes theaters to close. It causes playwrights and actors to not pursue work. It depresses the industry. But if working in the trenches of original musical theatre for 8 years has taught me anything, it’s never to doubt that what you’re working on is special and necessary in the moment. I’ve watched musicals I’ve written with groups of students go up in the hallway of a school building because no classroom/library/theatre space was available. It doesn’t take anything away, except it requires that an audience expand their mindset about what theatre is.

Tangled Up in Everything

Today I'm working on my Squarespace site, applications for performance gigs, applications for playwriting workshops, recording some new demos, and scheduling residency work as a teaching artist. It's a pretty normal workload for a freelancer. Rather than making to-do lists, I attack everything at once with 20 tabs open in my browser, flitting from screen to screen while I update, apply, respond, record, and edit. This happens to me every August, between the end of Summer employment and the start of Fall. I try to set myself up for a full, exciting, and successful year while drinking cup after cup of hazelnut anxiety, all the while wondering if this is the year I'll finally take my friend up on his offer to come sell computer software at his company and put the artistic pursuits on the back burner.  But the promise of that magical e-mail with "Congratulations!" in the subject line keeps me tangled up in everything artistic, magical, dirty, difficult, and beautiful.