Summer? What Summer?

So I've been thinking about my New Year's Resolutions. What? You may ask. It's only fall, isn't it a bit too early to think about resolutions? Yes, it would be if I was thinking about 2014. Instead, I'm thinking about 2013. One of my resolutions was to blog more this year, for no other reason than I think people (mainly arts-loving people) would benefit from hearing my opinions. Or at least, I like to think so. Not really, I just like to bitch and moan online like a majority of the populace.

Well, as you can see from the lack of entries this year, I've failed miserably at putting my snarky thoughts to type. Instead what have I been doing? Writing for pay! Because I hate having free time.

Here is what I accomplished this summer, while everyone else was out of town. And this list does not include watching all 13 episodes of "Orange is the New Black" and the first three seasons of "Breaking Bad."

• I filed a story for the July/August issue of "American Theatre" about the immersive theatre movement, which has gotten an insane amount of hits and also, one (that I know of) lovely response. And in that issue, I also wrote about my trip to Alabama, where I saw some new plays about bunnies and had a lot less fried chicken than I hoped to have.

• I also wrote a 4,000-word piece about the TCG Conference (aka the biggest theatre conference of the year!) for the September issue of AT.

• I did a podcast interview with my personal writer hero David Henry Hwang where I talked to him about "M. Butterfly," "Yellow Face" and YouTube videos. And this time, I was only moderately enthusiastic (as opposed to the first time I met him where the reaction was more "Oh my god, you inspired me so much and you are so important!"). Listen to it here.

• I wrote three theater reviews at the New York International Fringe Festival, for "Time Out New York." My last review was in 2011 and I have to say, this time around, the snark came out much easier. I'm guessing that's just one of the side-effects of living in New York City, like knowing how to weave through crowds or ignoring the break-dancer spinning right in front of you on the subway. Though this little dance into criticism aside, I think I may leave it for the more seasoned professionals, because while it's fun, having this much power in my hands is unsettling. And then, because the Fringe refused to let me go, I did a small post for "Back Stage" about the best performance I saw at the festival. 

• I wrote two pieces for "Stages," the theater magazine for Theatre Development Fund (who, coincidentally enough, works in the same building as TCG, the publisher of AT). One was about "King Kong" at SummerStage and the other was about "Monkey: Journey to the West" at Lincoln Center. Read the second one if you want to see a great example of how to take a 10-minute interview and turn it into a 600-word story. It wasn't David Foster Wallace-style of thumb twiddling, but it was still challenging.

And lastly, I went to Maine for my one mini-vacation, where I killed some lobsters, with a knife.



Now, with three shows this week and four next week (two of which will be in Chicago), I say: Bring on the fall. And the return of blazers and life-changing dramas.

So That Freelancing Thing

Jose Llana, credit: Joan Marcus

So the thing I've been trying to do ever since I got to New York City, besides get a job, was do some freelancing. And then I got a job and realized that while I loved writing, I also loved drinking, and going out to dinner, and taking long walks. So there went the freelancing idea...until now!

Hello world! Diep is here and she takes assignments! And she is not monogamous to "American Theatre" magazine.

Why just last week, "Time Out New York" ran a story I wrote about Filipino-American Broadway-leading man Jose Llana, who I was first introduced to via the "Flower Drum Song" 2002 cast album (my reaction back then was something like, "Who is this hot-sounding Asian-American man? And where has he been all my life?). Well in real life, Jose has a boyfriend and he is also my co-worker's cousin. I did not know that when I pitched the story.

But here is the link to the story, about Jose and his work in "Here Lies Love," a new David Byrne and Fat Boy Slim musical about former Filipino first lady Imelda Marcos, currently at the Public Theater. And if you have not bought tickets, you should, the music is super catchy and the performances are electric. The whole thing is set in a disco nightclub (da club) and it's like I time-traveled back to 1975 and Studio 54, where David Byrne dressed all in white and was on the dance floor bopping his head to the beat. I may have done some (a lot) dancing.

Here's an important snippet of the chat between me and Jose that I could not fit into the article:

I’m getting old enough now, I’m 36, where I’m beginning to work [chuckles] with younger Asian guys who were in grade school when I was in "The King and I." For them to say to me, "When I fell in love with theater, you were the only Asian-American man  I could look up to who was not from the '50s." When I think of all my heroes growing up as a musical theater geek, they were Caucasian or African-American. There weren’t many prominent Asian-American musical theater stars. If I can be that person to a young Asian kid who thinks, "If there are roles for Lea Salonga and Jose Llana and Telly Leung and Paolo Montalban, maybe I can do it too." For a young kid to see someone who looks like them, doing what they want to do, it's really really important. I used to shy away from that but I really own it now.

Isn't he someone who you just want to hang out with? Not many people realize the importance of seeing yourself reflected on the stage, so it's so refreshing to hear a theater artist acknowledge that. And mini-soapbox over.

Here's some more links for things I've done lately:

I created a video for "American Theatre"
AT also launched a new podcast series, which I also edited. Two episodes are up. I conducted the third episode, which should be up next week, in case anyone is wondering what my wonderfully soothing voice sounds like (oh if I could sound like Terry Gross).
I created a tumblr for arts journalists, because I love the fact that gifs are back in fashion. I also take submissions! What Should We Call Arts Journalists?

And I'm in the middle of writing two pieces. 2013 is going marvelously.

A Cricket Chirping

A common question that I get asked, because I work for a fairly well-known theater publication, and I know a great deal more than the average person about theater (for better or for worst), is, "Do you have a theater background?" I have decided to come clean with all of you and say...nope. Nada. Nothing.

The Best Thing About the "Smash" Premiere

Womanizing director Derek Wills, played by Jack Davenport, flipping through what looks like February 2010 issue of "American Theatre" magazine (aka my employer). It looks like he's reading the news section.

Good to know those magazines I sent to "Smash"'s prop department finally made their way onscreen.

And it gave me another reason to re-watch that bore of a two-hour premiere. Well, besides Ivy Lynn (Megan Hilty) belting out "They Just Keep Moving the Line."

I Make a Video

I feel like every time I get ideas for a blog post (so that I could post more on this blog and get some more traffic), I get distracted by this horrible thing called "day job." Then again, my day job is putting together a theater magazine so it's not actually horrible. Unless you count going to see theater for free horrible. Horribly amazing, maybe?

The February issue of "American Theatre" was released online today and I wrote an article in it about plays that utilize multiple languages. An abstract:

The double-sided question of what is being said and how to say it is popping up more frequently these days in bilingual plays, which differ from standard plays in a key respect: They bring in another language to help get the point across.

You can read the entirety of it, in layout, here.

Also in the same issue, I put to use that fancy degree that I got from Syracuse University and made a video about the costume design in "My Fair Lady" at Arena Stage in Washington, D.C. How did I do it? A recorded Skype interview and some fighting with FinalCut.

Watch that video and look at all the pretty costume pictures here.

In non-Diep-being-a-journalist news, I feel like Twitter has become the primary way I connect with other theater artists and get ideas/inspiration for stories. Which is how this post by Erin Quill fell into my lap (seriously it did, she tagged me on Twitter with it). It's about brownface in a Roundabout Theatre production of "The Mystery of Edwin Drood," which led to me asking, "Why do artists have to be so racist?!" I left a comment after reading the responses that, in short, said, "It's a play within a play, so it's okay!" Which shows you how far we still have to go before we can all respectively have the race talk in this country.

There's probably going to be a very belated podcast from this.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to putting out a magazine.

Metatheatricality and Perils of Creation

"Ganesh Verses the Third Reich"
Apparently trains are the transport of choice of Hindu gods

"Sunday in the Park with George" is my favorite musical, the reason because it has the song which has served as the testament to how frustrating and alienating, and essential, the process of making art is. Yes, I am talking about "Finish the Hat," and "watching the world from the window while you finish the hat."

The song came to me as I was in the audience for two pieces this winter. One was "We Are Proud to Present a Presentation About the Herero of Namibia, Formerly Known as South West Africa, From the German Sudwestafrika, Between the Years 1884-1915" (whew!) by Jackie Sibblies Drury at Soho Rep in November, and the other was "Ganesh verses the Third Reich," from Back to Back Theatre in Australia, as part of the Under the Radar Festival this month.

And two other works I saw in January, as part of the P.S. 122 COIL festival, "Inflatable Frankenstein" and "Seagull (Thinking of you)" had the same quality to them as well. It was all meta-theatrical, or, works about artists making work, about the questions, frustrations, egos, emotions and (in the case of "Frankenstein" since there was pink goo involved) the messiness of creation.

Racial Links and Musicals

I'm writing this blog post from my childhood bedroom in California, where I'm staying at my parents while researching a story on Tim Dang, the artistic director of East West Players, the oldest theater of color in the U.S, for American Theatre.

It is part of my (not-so-secret) ploy to give more visibility to the Asian-American theater artist plight. A plight that was given more flames this week when the Royal Shakespeare Company across the Atlantic pond decided to mount "The Orphan of Zhao," a classic Chinese tale with, you-guessed-it, Asians in minor rules. In fact, out of the 17 castmembers, only 3 are Asians and they are playing servants and a pet. Gregory Boyd, the artistic director of the RSC, calls the backlash against this decision "sour grapes," giving credence to the backlash, and proof that even when you are leading one of the most famous theater companies in the world, you can still be majorly insensitive to race.

Erin Quill writes a more proper, and passionate, summation on her blog.

This comes out in the same week where Bruce Norris, who wrote the Pulitzer-winning play Clybourne Park (about racial interactions and real estate), pulled the rights to his play from a Staatstheatre Mainz in Germany. The reason: they wanted to cast white actors in blackface to play African-American roles.

So in totality, not the best week in the world of race relations and casting. But tomorrow I'll be reporting on a panel at East West Players about the lack of Asians and Asian-Americans onstage. EWP was kind enough to invite me to it (and even had to go through the wrong Diep Tran in order to get to me). So the fight continues and I'm here to report on it. And hopefully not criticize too much afterwards.

But in other non-racial news, I wrote a blog post for "TCG Circle" this week about what I think is the new age of American musicals: the age of the small musicals. Or as I titled it (and I'm quite proud of this headline): Go Small or Go Home.

A snippet here:

Are we entering a new age of the American musical, where the imperative is not to go big, but to go small? And is folk a new musical genre? I can’t remember the last new musical I’d seen where there were chorus lines; bombastic, every-piece-in-the-orchestra-at-attention showtunes; or glory notes. Instead, it’s been character-driven stories where the actors sang their feelings, not belted them, and were accompanied by a piano and/or a guitar. Sometimes even a violin (the imperative word being a violin, not many violins).

These are all musicals that “whisper rather than shout.”

The example that sparked off this train of thought was from a PigPen Theatre Company, a troupe of five Carnegie Mellon graduates who have a penchant for folk tunes, shadow puppets and a dose of whimsicality. A video here to end the week (or to start the week, depending on when you are reading this post):



Have a good rest of the week. I'll be back in NYC on Wednesday.

And Now, A Little Bit of Shameless Self-Promotion

Not to toot my own horn, but I have two articles in the latest version of American Theatre, and one un-bylined interview with Alan Cumming (the official answer is because I was not interviewing him as myself, but rather, as American Theatre).

But you should read them, either in print, online, or in our new digital (via Zinio) form. So many options, however will you choose? I had a mixture of fun and frustration writing these articles, though the research for them (which included flying to Louisville, KY and Costa Mesa, CA) was so memorable and, in the case of talking to Alan Cumming, a perverted hoot.

One is a summation of the Humana Festival of New Plays in Louisville and the Pacific Playwrights Festival in Costa Mesa. I saw 15 plays in the course of two weekends, which meant that when I got back to NYC, I was pretty theatered-out.

The other article is about theater trailers, for those who are interested in creating one, how to go about doing it. Fun times...

A Sensitive Take on the TCG National Conference

The hubbub at the 2011 TCG National Conferience in Los Angeles

Feeling 1: Tired

It was 11:30 at night and I had been up since 7 that morning. I wanted to go home. Or rather, I wanted to go back to my hotel room and watch TV. The music was loud, the lighting was dark, the booze was flowing for up to five glasses, and a couple of minutes prior, I had seen a man sporting a six-pack, walk down a catwalk while wearing only a pair of gold lame shorts. On a normal day, that would have given me my second wind.

But then again, this was not a normal day. I had been up since 7 that morning and, save for the new Mike Daisey show (The Orient Express (Or, the Value of Failure)), I had been working all day. I wanted to go back to my hotel room (at the Boston Park Plaza), and watch TV.

Feeling 2: Surprised (Kinda)

Chattering

I was at the 2012 Humana Festival of New Plays in Louisville, KY this past weekend. Aside from fighting a cold and thus having to control my alcohol intake (which meant a lot less bourbon than I had planned to have), I saw 8 plays and sat on a panel called "Critiquing Criticism: (re)imagining the future." Though I was lucky enough to be sitting beside Polly Carl, moderator and HowlRound editor, Bill Hirschman of the American Theatre Critics Association, and Gordon Cox of Variety, I also felt a tad uneasy. If only because I had only been doing this professionally (eg: getting paid to write) for less than a year, and this was my first Humana outing. And I'm still working on the art of holding back pithy remarks...

"But that is why I asked you!" said Kirsty Gaukel, who works at the press office at Actors Theatre of Louisville, who hosted the festival. Apparently at this stage of my career, being young is an asset (especially in a field that is dominated by writers and head honcho artists in their 40's and 50's). It must have been my Twitter account...

In short, it was a conversation that I had an endless amount of time at Syracuse. And surprisingly, almost everyone enjoyed my comments. Maybe it is easy being green... Here's the video below (with me in the preview image). And look for my Humana retrospective in the July/August issue of American Theatre.

Watch live streaming video from newplay at livestream.com

The Minority Report (Asian Edition)

"I can't understand you, are you speaking Chinglish?"

It was only a matter of time before I addressed this. I actually wanted to avoid this topic because I hate bringing my racial background into a conversation where it doesn't belong. But I figured it was time...

On the Ball

But the March issue of American Theatre is out today, with a very prescient story about gay marriage as a theme. Considering that gay marriage is now a reality in Washington, New York, Maryland, really close in California and (if it wasn't for Chris Christie) New Jersey. See everyone? The American theater is not always behind the trend! Sometimes, we're actually running alongside it.

credit: Sara Krulwich, NYTimes

And in other news, I finally stopped being lazy and saw The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs at the Public Theater down in the East Village on Tuesday. It was one of those moments where you knew what you were getting into (which was the reason why I had put it off for so long, I knew it was going to be good but a downer of a night. I was partially right). In this case, I knew I was going to be treated to an evening of a firsthand account of Mike Daisey's, the monologist, trip to China and to Foxconn, the factory that makes half of the world's electronics, including Apple's. And how that factory treats its workers, how it puts them through 12-16 hour shifts (one man died after working a 36-hour shift while Mr. Daisey was there) and how it throws them away like defective machines when their hands become too misshapen and carpal-tunnel-ridden from doing the same repetitive motion (assembling iPhone, iMacs, iPad, etc parts) for years.

I knew all that. But there's something about a story that's being told just right, in a relateable, sometimes funny, and oftentimes harrowing language that brings the point home. Especially when that story is told in the form of a retrospective, based on first-hand accounts.

You can download the monologue at Mike Daisey's website and read it and perform it at your leisure. And you can read the expose on Foxconn from the New York Times that was researched and published at the same time as when Mr. Daisey was performing in one-man-show.

Coincidence? Or theater doing its job? After all, isn't that the point of art, to hold up a clear (not rosy-colored) mirror to society? The argument for the importance of art is convincing when there are pieces like Agony and the plays mentioned in the gay marriage article being made.

And I also want to give a shout-out to that thing that I love more than theater: journalism. Real, investigative journalism. Not soundbites taken straight from a press release that passes for journalism on TV (no offense to broadcast reporters but really, someone please call Rick Santorum out on his three degrees in light of his claim that colleges are for "snobs"). From the Times expose on Foxconn, which attracted more than 1,000 comments, and petitions, letters and demonstrations, people are finally thinking actively about green technology. Finally, being a TRUTH avenger is a good thing again.

I Heard It Through the Class Vine

It seems that every time I tune into any Republican nominee candidate speaking (something I try to avoid for my own personal sanity), the common buzzwords include "warfare," "welfare" and "Obama," the most common permutation being, "Obama is trying to wage class warfare." What with talks of the 99% and protestors being indiscriminately pepper sprayed (and Mitt Romney not caring about the "very rich" or the "very poor"), it's fitting that right now, one of the more emerging topics discussed on the theatrical stage is the issues of class.

In two weeks, I saw two plays on two different coastlines, which represented two different types of American theater: the commercial Broadway theater and the non-profit, regional theater. The first was Stick Fly by Lydia R. Diamond (who was profiled in the December issue of American Theatre, on Broadway at the Cort Theater, about an African-American family during a weekend at Martha's Vineyard.

The second was Elemeno Pea by Molly Smith Metzler, at South Coast Repertory, who is also a co-worker of mine at Theatre Communications Group. That one was about two White sisters and one sister's wealthy employer on Martha's Vineyard. (Aside: I was on vacation in California when I saw this and ate so much, but not enough, Vietnamese food throughout. Lunar New Year is like Christmas for Asian people, gastronomically.)

In these two scenarios, we won't discuss the race issue (which will be the topic for another blog post). What these two plays have in common are the class discussions, in the seemingly insular world of Martha's Vineyard.

In Defense of Criticism

 I defend the art of criticism in the TCG Circle blog. Choice snippet:

Based on what I was taught and what I noticed in practice (reviewing for student dailies, websites, print publications and my personal blog), the respect of the theatre artist is a sometimes-handy byproduct of a review. It is not why critics write.

In the words of Chris Jenson, a stage columnist for the SF Weekly, “My primary role is not to be a cheerleader for local theatre, but to be of service to readers.”

 Read the rest at the circle (and see if you can get the play reference in the title).

The Family Play

I blog about the family play for the TCG Circle Blog, the official blog of Theatre Communications Group, my parents at American Theatre magazine.

A choice excerpt:

Perhaps it’s the commonality within the theme of family. After all, not everyone finds themselves battling AIDS (Angels in America) or unwittingly becoming cannibals (Sweeney Todd). But everyone has a mother who drives them crazy (Gypsy).

You can read the rest here.

Why Make Art? Are We Still Asking This?

I was at work today in the midst of finishing up on editing the November issue of American Theatre magazine (since the last time I posted, two issues have come out that had my name as part of the masthead, pretty cool!) and I got distracted by a blog post. Brooklyn-based playwright Matthew Freeman, whose work I have not yet seen, was addressing an article from the Wall Street Journal, one that questioned why playwrights write plays.

Not surprisingly, most playwrights (like most artists) do not make living from writing plays. Tony Kushner makes his living as a screenwriter, eventhough Angels in America is an established piece of the American theatrical canon (and he has also inspired a theatrical tribute, a sure sign of immortality). Terry Teachout, whose work I also have not seen, writes that the reason playwrights write is because you meet the "nicest" people in the theater and because of the audience's reactions.

Freeman's rebuttal (emphasis mine):

Honestly, I do like that I've met nice people, but as a playwright, that is not why I write plays. I also don't write plays because I really like sitting in the room and hearing the reactions (a luxury, apparently, that TV writers don't get?) I don't do it for applause, or to satisfy myself or feel the love of others. Frankly, the theater I like is usually a bit terrifying and difficult: the sort that makes people leave feeling unsettled, and not like they love you.

I write plays because they are the long-standing, traditional form of art that I've chosen for my medium. Does there need to be further explanation than that? Just because photographs exist, does that mean painters need to explain why they still paint?

I'm more inclined to agree with Freeman. People write, paint, play music, act, sing, are generally artsy for the reason that they cannot do anything else. It's a compulsion. Artists that I've spoken to say it's because they do not feel like they were meant to do anything else. "It feeds my soul." "I just fell in love and it wouldn't let me go."

As for myself, I wonder why the question of "Why be a playwright?" exists. It goes without saying. And for that matter, why engage in the arts and humanities at all? Why work in non-profit? Why am I a journalist? Why do anything that doesn't pay a salary or ensure financial stability?

I'm not even going to point to the sociological reasons of why art is important and keeps man in touch with his humanity, his compassion, spirit. Or that helping others is its own reward.

No, I'm more inclined to think that it's something more primal than that. It's a need to do devote your life to this thing because it's what you love and what makes you happy and what you feel like you're the most skilled at and what you felt like you were meant to do. 

As a great man, my dad would say, "Making money is easy. The important thing is to do what you love. Money is not important." 

On Employment (Finally!)

I meant to write this post as soon as I got the job. But as soon as I got the job (after I jumped up and down in the apartment and called my entire family and some close friends), I promptly went out and got a couple of drinks to celebrate. And then promptly forgot about writing this post. And then I started work.

Here's the thing about 40-hour work weeks, they take some getting used to. It's the end of my second week as an editorial assistant for American Theatre magazine. Besides having designated sections of the magazine that I am now in charge of (look for my writing in the awards sections, entrances & exits, and production notebook), I also edit, fact-check, process photos and make misc changes to magazine copy as they come in. And if I come up with a brilliant idea (still waiting on that one), I can write a feature article for the magazine.

At the moment, I'm trying to refresh the well on the ideas. It's writing about theaters (which is spelled theatre in the magazine, that takes some getting used to) on a national scale, which I am getting used to.

So upon getting home everyday at around 7 p.m., all I want to do is eat and watch Netflix. The exhaustion is not nearly as bad this week as it was the first week. And hopefully, it will not be as bad next week as this week. I'm just taking it one day at a time and hoping for some good ideas to write/blog about in the process.

In the meantime, I wake up everyday and I am excited about going to work. And for a job, that's all you really need, I think.

Then again, I've only been a real adult for two weeks.

P.S. How did I find the job?

An alumni who interned at the magazine was forwarded the job opening by the managing editor, who forwarded the listing to my Goldring adviser. Who knew that I loved theater, so she forwarded the listing to me. A month later (with a follow-up e-mail two weeks after I sent the resume), I was called into interview where I promptly tried to be my wittist, most likable self. A second round of interviews later, a copy-editing test, multiple phone calls to my mother telling her to pray, and a phone call to my old editor at one of my old internships...I got the job.

The lesson in all this:

1. Follow-up
2. Stay in contacts with your old bosses and forge good relationships with your academic advisers
3. Job hunting takes longer than you usually think it will
4. Never underestimate the power of sheer luck (a quick aside: as another alumni said: "There are, like, three theater writing jobs out there." And by sheer luck, I got one of them.)