From cradle to stage – A new works adventure

Thank you Walterdale Theatre Associates. I was lucky enough to be chosen to direct 3 original scripts for Cradle to Stage. Three plays that have never been performed before. Three worlds that only existed in the minds of their writers until they landed in my hands.

And that is where the strange magic begins.

Getting to work with unproduced works was an amazing experience. Completely unbiased by previous productions. No shadow of another actor’s performance hanging over the room. No “this is how it’s always been done.” Everything was new. Fresh paint on an empty stage.

At first, I have nothing but words. Pages. Ink. Silence between dialogue. I read the script and images begin forming in my head like stage lights slowly warming up. But here is the question that fascinates me:

Can I ever truly see what the author saw?

I can ask them, of course. I can chase intention, symbolism, rhythm, meaning. But then I wonder…what is the purpose of this process?

If the play belongs to the author, should I ask endless questions in pursuit of their exact vision?

If the play belongs to the script itself, perhaps the author should step away entirely. Let the words stand on their own legs under the harsh fluorescent lights of rehearsal. If the vision survives untouched, then the writing communicated clearly enough to live beyond its creator.

And then comes the dangerous third possibility:

What if the play belongs to the director?

If my ego takes the wheel, then my responsibility is not preservation, but impact. My job becomes telling the story in the most emotionally powerful way I can, regardless of original intention. That, too, reveals something valuable about the strength and flexibility of the script.

But theatre is never a kingdom ruled by one voice.

Then come the actors.

We made our picks through an actor draft based on a short one minute monologue submitted by performers. Some read recipes. Some read Lego instructions. Some performed Shakespeare. Along with a basic CV, that tiny audition window became our first glimpse into possibility.

And they were all good.

So the choices became about nuance. Inflection. Diction. Emotional truth. Do they have the look in their eye? Can they play kindness without weakness? Can they become the cold villain, the exhausted mother, the desperate lover, the fighter, the saint?

As a director, I had to look into my performers and help them find their path to the soul of the character. Every actor arrives through a different door, and often not the one you expected.

One actress was very Latin, from El Salvador I believe. Fast talker. She had this incredible Latin fire. During rehearsal we discovered that the more emotional or angry her character became, the faster she spoke. Instead of fighting it, we embraced it and used it as a key storytelling tool. It was beautiful watching that instinct become character.

Another performer apologized for talking too much with her hands because she was Italian. That too became part of the role. Once she embraced that Sicilian energy, it drove the character forward like a storm rolling downhill.

The experienced performers arrived humble, generous, willing to support and elevate others around them. The newer actors came hungry, eager, passionate to listen and learn. Every rehearsal felt like opening another unknown door.

Each play brought new discoveries. How actors followed me. How I followed them. Which stage directions carried enough value to be spoken aloud, and which only shattered the rhythm and momentum of the scene.

I have said for a long time that pacing and tempo are the fastest ways to kill a story.

A beautiful line delivered a second too long becomes theatre taxidermy. Perfectly preserved…and completely lifeless.

Around rehearsal tables and on dusty stages, we questioned, debated, explored, failed, laughed, rewrote moments accidentally, and somewhere inside that beautiful chaos…the stories finally became alive.

By trinity of writer, director, and actor, the play stops belonging to any one person.

And maybe that is what theatre truly is.

Not ownership.

Translation.

And a big beautiful thank you to the writers

Matt Dale – “To be Hanged” Otis – Ethan Campos Sissy – Kennedy Hamdon Vance – Alex Doyle

Kalin Jensen – “Wooden” Felix – Bailey Bieganek Mary – Julie Marko

Marisa Scarbeau “Far from the Tree” Marigold (Golden) – Dixie Christina Albanez Ambrosia (Rosie) – Lita Pater Breaburn (Brea) – Courtney Nelson McIntosh (Mac) – Erwin Veugelers Chris (Not an apple) – Dave Breakenridge

And lets not forget an amazing support staff! Sound and lightning designers Pat and Matt. The SM Adorra the explora. An ASM that scurries, Rebecca! Adrian (missing) and Vashnavi