AGPA 2014 and The Great God Pan: Conducting Rehearsals from a Group Therapeutic Perspective

Rehearsal Challenges

Similar to most therapy group schedules, we rehearse just one time each week. This past Sunday’s rehearsal posed a number of challenges.  Three actors were absent—illness, out of the area, and meeting an editor’s deadline, respectively.  The musician was joining us to begin the process of cueing the music segments.  Most notably, we were in an alternative rehearsal space for the first time.  Our regular rehearsal space was unavailable.

Group therapists are skilled at managing disruptions to emotionally complex group processes. Specifically we know how to work empathically to understand their meaning and recognize their impact on the group’s members and their collaborative work.Preparing a play for presentation poses the extra theatrical challenge of understanding how the disruption may also be linked to the dramatic action of the play.

Location Change

Group therapists know that a location change has impact.  If a group member so much as chooses to sit in a chair different from the one typically chosen, the domino effect on everyone else can cause quite a stir.  Themes such as competition, sibling rivalry, privilege, past losses, accountability, entitlement, seeking new perspectives, aversion to change, thrill seeking and sexual attraction may emerge in the process of exploring the group members’ experience of such a ‘small’ occurrence.  The impact of moving to a whole new group room could take months to fully comprehend! Ideally, the process of reflective thought and introspection has the potential of leading to a deeper understanding of relational and small group dynamics.

So I took seriously the possibility of negative consequences resulting from my decision to conduct the second-to-last rehearsal in a new and foreign space.In an effort to ameliorate the impact of the disruption, I gave weeks of notice to the one-time location change, offered reminders along the way, provided directions and my cellphone number for late-arrival access, had the room set up in advance, brought bottled water, and stood guard at the door on the lookout for arriving actors.  But still… every move was nonetheless unfamiliar—and uncomfortable. “Where is the bathroom?  The room is too small.  Oh, shit, I forgot to bring coffee. What, no coffee cake? There are three entrances to the building!Which one will people use? Did we just get locked out?  I don’t have a key, do you?  Where are the others? Where do I sit?” 

Group members understandably felt some increased level of anxiety and thus an increased dependence on the leadership to create safety and familiarity.  We were ‘forced to make’ countless micro-recalculations, consciously and unconsciously, all of which took precious brain and heart power that we did not really have to spare, on a snowy, cold Sunday morning.

Name the Beast/Stay Positive

 Once all the actors were finally in place, I offered, “Last week we had a very organized, planned, scene-by-scene rehearsal—with coffee and cake provided.  I am making an effort to repeat that approach again this week, but I can already tell we’re going to have to improvise our way through much of this morning, as best as we can manage. Without coffee.” Name the beast. Stay positive.I hoped that would be enough. But I wished I had brought coffee!!

Three Group Dynamic Adjustments

Firstly, I found myself involving the actors more actively in giving feedback to the musician about what worked best from their perspective, which I supported whenever possible.  I also found myself soliciting the actors’ guidance in how to proceed with the scene study. “I have some new thoughts about this scene since our rehearsal last week, I’m sure you do too.  Would you like to share first, or would you like to hear from me first?” “Are you ready to try the scene again?” While these are not untypical statements for a director to make, in retrospect, I think I felt a stronger need than usual to keep the actors involved and focused on the immediacy of the task.  The task was a dependable source of familiarity and comfort.  I similarly gave the musician ‘center stage’, sitting next to him, extending as much encouragement and space as I could to allow him to take the lead in cueing the music. He is a gifted professional, but human like the rest of us.  His skill and familiarity with the collaborative process of working with actors helped put us all at ease.

The second noteworthy dynamic emerged in the debriefing segment. The demands of the rehearsal left us with only 15 minutes to check in with each other about the mornings’ work.Barely minutes into the debriefing, I found myself reactively protesting a facilitator comment that I felt went beyond the boundary of his role and function, and, I felt, ran the risk of shutting down the lead actor emotionally.  On another day I may have let the comment pass, (and have), but today the myriad of other disruptions activated me to take a more protective stance. My gut reaction to openly challenge the facilitator in front of the actors was risky business, but saying nothing felt ever more fraught. The experience left me unsettled for the rest of the day, and it was not until the next morning, after a night of frenzied dreaming, that I realized the parallel to the “dangers” dramatized in the play, The Great God Pan. I felt some relief, and frankly a bit of vindication, by making the connection between our experience and the play.

Parallel Processes

In one of the scenes we rehearsed on Sunday, Doug, the father of adult son Jamie, confesses a family secret to his son.  When Jamie was 4, his parents (Doug and Cathy) had sent him to stay for two weeks in the home of Dennis Lawrence, an acquaintance who was the father of a 4 year-old playmate of Jamie’s.  As the play opens, grown-up Jamie learns from his childhood playmate, (now grown up Frank), that Mr. Lawrence is, and has been since their childhood, an alleged child molester.  Frank was a victim. Jamie may have been a victim too. 

The parallel of sending the actor playing Jamie (and the rest of us!) to an unfamiliar ‘home’ to rehearse put me squarely in the symbolic position of Doug. I had made the decision to send us to this strange place, and it was a risky one.When the facilitator ‘took liberties’ by making comments that I felt were ‘out of bounds’, I reacted by protesting. As I reported in an earlier blog posting, the play inevitably ‘gets inside us’, and begins to emerge as we react to the contingencies of rehearsal.  This was one such occasion when the trauma of the play and the contingencies of the rehearsal converged.

Group Therapeutic Goals

Making these kinds of connections between the play and our small group dynamics is a central part of our work together as an ensemble, uncomfortable as it might be at times.  One of our primary learning goals is to understand the dynamics of the play through the emergent “parallel processes”arising out of the dynamics of the acting ensemble.  Today we furthered both the theatrical goal of preparing a quality performance and the educational goal of recognizing the links between the play and our work.  It was a good day.

Unfinished Business

The third noteworthy dynamic has yet to be recognized and fully explored.  I will meet with the consultant/process observer (John Dluhy) Friday, when we will have a first chance to compare notes about the rehearsal in our weekly consultation. Bearing witness to these kinds of group processes is very demanding work, emotionally and intellectually.  Without an acting part or directorial responsibilities to discharge some of his own activated emotional response to the rehearsal experience, the consultant is left ‘sitting with the experience’, and at some emotional risk.  Our weekly consultations provide each of us with a chance to ventilate, expand our clinical and theatrical perspective and offer support and guidance.  John’s vast experience and gifts as both a group therapist and an actor makes him uniquely suited for this demanding assignment.  I am grateful for his perseverance and commitment to our project.

Upon further reflection, one other interesting—even disturbing—feature of Sunday’s rehearsal now stands out in my mind.  One of the actors brought his camera, fitted with a telescopic lens, to take pictures of the rehearsal, some of which are included in this blog posting.  The request to take pictures was made a few weeks ago and seemed ‘innocent enough’ at the time. But in the small, windowless, unfamiliar rehearsal room that we don’t usually ‘reside in’, and having some guy silently, but intently taking pictures ‘from the shadows’, felt a little creepy.  But it didn’t quite register at the conscious level at the time, so I didn’t think to say anything.  Looking back, I feel differently. When I associate to the camera’s intimate relationship with child pornography, I get chills. My empathy deepens for the parental characters Doug, Cathy and nanny Polly. The awesome responsibility of real life parents for noticing what dangers lurk around their children, often visible before their very eyes, is humbling to consider.

A Telephone Rehearsal

The next day, Monday, I conducted a telephone rehearsal with the actors playing Jamie (YavarMoghimi) and his mother Cathy (Barbara Keezell).  The scene they share is actually played ‘on the phone’, so the cellphone conference call format was eerily “in vivo”.  Still sensitive from the day before, we spent most of the time facilitating a shared discussion about the scene.  Their one reading of the actual scene brought us all to tears.  Poignantly, we each had to ‘admit’ this to one another, as the opaqueness of the telephone allowed us the option of keeping this emotional fact to ourselves, if we chose.

So much transpires in so many different and interesting ways through this experience of preparing a play for performance.  My respect, admiration and gratitude for the talent and sensitivity of the playwright, Amy Herzog, the actors and our consultant grow week to week.

Next week we have our final dress rehearsal before heading off to Boston.

Epilogue

On Monday afternoon I conducted an individual therapy session with a successful lawyer and businessman with whom I’ve been working for a few months.  Late in the session, he paused, and then abruptly revealed that on a shopping trip to a local mall with his ten-year-old son over the weekend, they had both witnessed a mother kick her small child in anger. Hard. She was with her husband and two other children.  “Did you see that Dad?” asked the son. “Just keep walking”, the father protectively replied, upset by what he saw, but not wanting to get involved.  When the two got home, the son told his older sister and mother what happened, clearly upset.  The father overheard their conversation, but said nothing.  In our ‘unpacking’ of the experience, the father told me, “I didn’t want to confront the woman. And I looked at her husband. That could escalate into a mess.  But frankly I really wanted to do something.  The woman assaulted her child, and nobody did anything”. 

We explored other options, most notably calling security or the police, and remaining available as a witness.  I was surprised that this option was both a relief and “a novel idea” to the father.  Upon reflection I understand that his fight-flight response had overtaken him, leaving only a risky confrontation with a stranger or a “just keeping walking” escape. When I suggested he could also revisit the situation with his son, he was again relieved and surprised. It hadn’t occurred to him.  I told him he could share with his son what they might have done differently. He could invite his son to talk about his thoughts and feelings about the incident, and then just listen.  “Maybe I should wait until he brings it up”, suggested his father.  “That’s a very thoughtful idea, and often a good strategy”, I replied. “But in this case you already know from his conversation with his sister that the incident is on his mind. Your “keep on walking” might have sent him a message you don’t want to talk about it. You did feel a need to talk about it today. He might too”.  “Good point”, he acknowledged.

Life imitating art…  Art imitating life…

Bob Schulte

AGPA 2014 & The Great God Pan: The Art of Pairing

Wilfred Bion

Bion  &  Basic Assumptions

The group concept of ‘pairing’comes from Wilfred Bion, a British psychoanalyst who studied how groups develop and why members act as they do, especially in the service of dual goals: task accomplishment and psychic survival. Bion became interested in understanding the impact of small and large group processes from his psychiatric work with wounded soldiers during and after WWII.  He observed survival-inspired strategies (basic assumptions of dependency, fight/flight and pairing) employedby group members to feel safe and protectedwhen faced with the rough-and-tumble demands of task completion within group life. Pairing with another person in an exclusive (Bion thought, ‘sexual’) bond is one such strategy. He imagined the group was colluding with the couple to do the group’s work by (pro)creating a magical solution. The concept is particularly relevant to our thinking about the underlying psychological processes of The Great God Pan.  The play has many pairings, recognizable as couples, pals and parent/child and therapist/patient dyads. All feature intimate relating, but with varying degrees of attunement, attachment, stress and distress—and purpose. While we never actually see the ‘group’ all together on stage, the characters can be thought of as a distressed/regressed basic assumption group. The ensemble of actors playing the characters is more recognizable as a work group. Bion would say all groups have qualities of both a work group and basic assumption group. The group goal is to be enough of both to survive and thrive.

Character Pairs

In the ten scenes of the play there are only a few moments where three characters are on stage together. I interpret this strategy as an effort to avoid group-wide knowledge and painful exposure. This exclusive reliance on pairing is a compelling feature of the dramatic structure of The Great God Pan. Whether intuitive or intentional, the playwright sends a powerful message about survival with her use of dyadic structure.

Jamie and Paige, as an intimate couple, are faced with the prospect of becoming a family group.  Paige is pregnant, and this is experienced as a threat to the couple’s exclusiveness.It might be said that Jamie’s inability to pair with the fetus threatens its very existence.

Jamie and Frank were exclusive playmates as children, and may have been harmed by an exploitative parent.  The arrival of Frank, with explosive news, threatens Jamie’s internal sense of wellbeing, and by extension his relationship with Paige, and potentially his wider circle of familial relationships.

Frank and Dennis (offstage character) are paired as son and father.  Their traumatic attachment bond leaves Frank in the “impossible” position of being harmed by the very person to whom he would otherwise turn to for protection.

Jamie and Cathy are paired as son and mother.  His efforts to please his mother and her desire for him to “just be happy” are often in conflict. Jamie’s reaching out for an empathic and informational response from her, in light of his visit with Frank, is frustrated by her dissociative inability to recall something that happened “so long ago”.

Jamie and Doug ‘act the parts’ of father and son, awkwardly.  Their pairing seems to producemore longing than comfort for either of them.The play offers them a redemptive opportunity to risk more authentically ‘living their parts’.

Dennis Lawrence and his wife (both offstage characters) are paired as a highly distressed marital couple. Her inability or unwillingness to respond with outrage or instrumental action to the harm being done to her son is “complicated”, as acknowledged by Frank.

Paige and Joelle are a therapeutic dyad.  The wounded healer and the healing wounded, mirror each other in comforting and confounding ways.  I imagine this will be painfully familiar to therapist audience members who work with trauma victims.

Jamie and Polly were paired as youngster and nanny. The remembering of Polly “as the best babysitter” captures the protective power of what we call in dynamic therapy, an idealized positive transference. The desire to recreate that kind of protective bond in future relationships throughout life is ubiquitous.

A Question of ‘What If?’

This structural choiceof theatrically dramatizing twosomes generates for me the clinical question: What would it be like for Jamie, or any of the characters, to be in group therapy?  To be faced with the emotional risks of telling their story in the presence of others could feel quite threatening.  Destabilizing. Painful. Redemptive.  Liberating. Relieving. Devastating. The emotional possibilities are complex and many.

Our ensemble of therapist/actors have an opportunity to explore this ‘what if’ clinical question through theirown experience of preparing to dramatically read The Great God Pan for an audience.  Their depth exploration of the characters of the play is intimately linked to their own corresponding, very particular, internal emotional terrain, making the theatrical work ultimately, therapeutic as well. This experience occurs first through the ensemble experience of preparation, second, through their performance for an audience and third, through post-performance process group discussions and written reflections.

Actor and Director Collaboration

Today was our first effort at focusing exclusively on scene study and character development. We established a sequence of scenes to work on and a basic working contract between the actors and the director.  This would be primarily a theatrical rehearsal, with group process explorations deferred until the very end of the rehearsal. Instead we began the process of collaboratively integrating the director’s interpretation of the dramatic action of the scenes with the actor’s interpretation of the characters motives, relationships and modes of expression.

My intent in establishing a clear demarcation between the director’s responsibility for interpreting the play, and the actor’s responsibility for interpreting the character was for many reasons.  But foremost, I want to empower the actors to be the final arbiter of their artistic choices.  My goal is to help clarify the action of the scene—what we call the “here-and-now” in group therapy—and allow the actors to consider how their character would ‘act’ under the circumstances.  We are consultants and collaborators to and with each other: they assist me in better understanding the action from their character’s perspective, and I assist them, in better understanding their character from an action perspective.

Looking Within

In the processing segment following the theater rehearsal, the emotional nature of some of our own pairings operating within the ensemble and leadership team emerged.  Various pairs, (notably the director and consultant,and two actors who work together in a clinic setting), identified interpersonal conflicts related to the convergence of their designated roles and tasks, the emotional impact of the play, their collegial relationships as ensemble members, and their professional roles beyond our theater enterprise.  Whew!

As an ensemble, the actors are able to do theirexploratory work of revealing to each other theirsubjective experiences—of the play and of each other—in a ‘safe-enough’ group context.  Everyone is privy to hear what isgoing on between pairs (and subgroups and the group-as-a-whole), to bear witness, and to offer reactions, commentaryand support. This takes dedicated time, effort, courage, talent, tenacity, clinical skill, empathy, compassion, timing and more than a sprinkle of love and luck.

It is only because the conflict of the drama infects the ensemble and the leadership team—slowly, insidiously, inevitably—that we can experientially learn about group therapy through the parallel process of play reading.  Our way of working is thus part theatrical, part therapeutic, part educational, and part relational.  These multi-dimensions of a play reading process allow us to learn about dynamic group processes thatare relevant to our work as group therapists.

Bob Schulte

AGPA 2014 & The Great God Pan: Musically representing the Drama Triangle

Developing a directorial vision for our presentation of The Great God Pan is a creative and collaborative process. The opportunities to dialogue with the actors, the consultant, musician and discussant are invaluable—variously in the study group or rehearsal hall, in private consultation and even in my fantasies and dreams.  Each collaborator brings a unique perspective, and it’s my job to metabolize their contributions such that a coherent directorial interpretation emerges. Solitude and reflection are key to my personal style and process. I strategically take time out to exercise on an elliptical exercise machine I keep in a spare bedroom at home.  (Imagine cross country skiing, without the snow or cold.)  The rhythms and quiet are well suited to my creative process of thinking and metabolizing.  And yes, I just got off the elliptical…

After meeting with the musician, Tom Teasley, this morning, I have a much clearer vision of how music and sound will fit into the presentation.  Three instruments will, together, form a ‘basic group’ of sound and music sources.  The instruments we selected include are a flute, a frame drum and a hang drum. A few other ‘environmental sounds’ will be created by additional instruments and we hope the actors might be involved in the performing of some of those effects.

Here are links to hear the instruments, as used by Tom in performance of poetry and storytelling. The first is a remarkable ‘Tale of Two Wolves’, featuring the frame drum and the flute:

Next is a beautiful rendition of a Traditional Apache Prayer, accompanied by Tom playing only the Native American flute:

And here is a rendition of ‘Haikus for the Seasons’, accompanied by Tom playing the hang drum.

These three distinctive sounds—the frame drum, hang drum and flute—are well suited to our play. The next step is for Tom to use his own creative process to explore their potential with the script in mind, and in rehearsal with the actors.  We will eventually make artistic choices together with the actors about what works where, based on our shared sensibilities.  It is an exciting process. Music and sound are indescribable contributions to the transcendent experience of the lived theatrical moment.

These three instruments are well matched to the concept of the ‘drama triangle’.  As a reminder, the drama triangle is a term coined to signify the victim/perpetrator/rescuer dynamics that routinely emerge in human interactions. From my perspective the flute is linked to victim position. The frame drum is linked to the perpetrator position. (Listen to the Tale of Two Wolves to hear this duality.) The hang drum is linked to the rescuer position. The person bearing witness (therapists, audience, therapy group members) can also be thought of as a variation on the rescuer role. Representing the victim/perpetrator/rescuer dynamics of the play musically is our goal.  I think we have made a good start and I look forward to bringing the music into our rehearsal process.

Bob Schulte

AGPA & ‘The Great God Pan’: Timing, Triangles and Trauma

Timing

Today’s rehearsal marked the end of our ‘play reading study group’ format whereby we combined play reading with a free associative discussion of the actors’subjective experience of the characters.Imagine us in a group therapists’ upscale private office, sitting comfortably in a circle of fashionable furnishings and original art, coffee in hand, and no immediate pressure to perform for an audience bigger than ourselves—private, protected and intimate.This necessary luxury helped create an emotional climate where trust could develop.

Now we are moving into a more traditional theater rehearsal phase. The new venue is a large conference room with fluorescent lights, mismatched hardback chairs and officewindows looking out onto a barren rooftop.  But the actors will get to be up on their feet, using their whole bodies and voices to connect with the power of the play and with each other. It’s a shock to the system at first, but the freedom to ‘let it rip’ without worry about disturbing the neighbors will outweigh the loss of creature comforts we so enjoyed in our study group phase.

Triangles

The triangle is a meaningful metaphor in psychology and group work, especially with trauma survivors. One noteworthy concept, useful for our examining the dramatic action and characters of The Great God Pan, is the drama triangle. The DT was made popular 40 years ago by noted psychiatrist Stephen Karman who specialized in Transactional Analysis. His drama triangle conceptualizes what he believed were universal victim/perpetrator/rescuer dynamics operating within and between human beings. Damsel-in-distress, villain & hero is a popular interpersonal translation of this concept. 

The TA therapist sees dysfunction as motives, relational styles, behaviors and belief systems that reflect conscious and unconscious efforts to avoid true, authentic living.  This tripartite model can be applied both to the individual (as an internalized capacity to fluidly shift from position to position, rather than being permanently fixed in one role) and to interpersonal relations, whereby individuals can induce certain complementary behaviors in another in the service of ‘getting their way’. While we have many different clinical lenses through which to observe, reflect and interpret, the drama triangle is a particularly interesting one.  Imagining the characters of Pan as struggling to take responsibility for their lives, in an authentic and courageous way, seems intuitively right to me.  This is the struggle I also see the actors taking up in good faith as they work to empathically access corresponding parts of themselves, in the service of understanding their character.

Trauma

In her book, The Body Remembers, trauma specialist Babette Rothschild, MSW states “the consequences of trauma … vary greatly depending on the age of the victim, the nature of the trauma, the response to the trauma, and the support to the victim in the aftermath... [Victims] may alternate periods of over-activity with periods of exhaustion as their bodies suffer the effects of traumatic hyper-arousal of the ANS [autonomic nervous system].  Reminders of the trauma they suffered may appear suddenly, causing instant panic. They become fearful, not only of the trauma itself, but also of their own reactions to the trauma. The body’s signals that once provided essential information become dangerous” (p. 13, 14).  The mind may or may not be capable of conscious memory of trauma’s origins. But the body remembers.

In The Great God Pan, the character Frank Lawrence has tentatively confirmed some basic facts of his childhood sexual abuse, using a mixture of partial cognitive recall, awareness of his body’s distressed cues and a confession of uncertain reliability by his perpetrator.  Therapeutic interventions have also helped him in his process of recovery. But he is not the only character in Pan with trauma history. Joelle, Cathy and Jamie are likely candidates. And if we consider the impact of vicarious trauma, a consequence of the bearing witness of another person’s trauma (an occupational hazard for therapists and caregivers), then everyone in Pan is suffering to some degree from the effects of traumatic stress.  And we/you as the audience risk being traumatized in the act of bearing witness to the characters’ bearing witness of trauma. No one escapes. Playwright Amy Herzog’s general interest in memory as a dramatic theme is subtly woven into the fabric of her play, ranging from benign forgetfulness to more traumatic responses of dissociation and denial and to aging-related dementia.

Last night, prior to today’s rehearsal, I had a ‘bad dream’. In my dream I was back working in the domestic violence clinic where I started my social work career, while simultaneously maintaining my private practice. My boss in the clinic of my dream is a Catholic nun whom I fear.  In the dream I thought, “What am I doing here! I should quit and just work in my private practice. This is too stressful”. When I woke and recalled the dream I thought, “What am I doing directing this play! I should quit and just work in my private practice. This is too stressful!” After the rehearsal I felt differently.  The courageous and creative work of my colleagues and the opportunity to share in an experience of learning, healing and growth with them makes the effort worthwhile.

The creative process takes a toll. Writing about the week-to-week experience of our work together feels like worthwhile resilience building.

Bob Schulte

AGPA 2014 Update: Discovering the dramatic core of ‘Pan’

We have completed our three months of pre-rehearsal exploration of the play, The Great God Pan. The group now begins rehearsals to prepare their assigned roles for performance.

These past few months have given us an invaluable head start in developing a shared perspective on the play.  I, as the director, understand the play in surprising new ways and I personally have a deeper appreciation for the complexities of the person-as-actor-in-character situation that play reading creates. I also continue to be impressed by the depth of clinical insight, theatrical sensibility and personal courage the ensemble members bring to our project.

A unique aspect of play reading is the experience of the play ‘getting inside us’. As an ensemble, we start feeling, thinking and even behaving in ways that reflect the heart and soul of the play.  The Great God Pan has a potent victim-perpetrator-rescuer dynamic built in, reflective of its trauma-related circumstances.

I am determined to be vigilant in my efforts to track this dynamic, knowing it will eventually emerge from within our ensemble and potentially reeking havoc.  I got a glimpse of this process at the end of the first reading, when we turned our attention to the actor’s debriefing/discussion segment.  Some of the actors later reported feeling intruded upon—not quite violated—by our very direct inquiry of their experience.  I came to understand that the boundary crossing we might normally feel free to make in asking exploratory questions felt more like a boundary violation, signaling to me that the parallel process of victim-perpetrator-rescuer had begun to emerge. 

By openly discussing this with the actors, we all agree that a more free associative, non-directive approach to the debriefing segment would better respect the vulnerable nature of the actors’ task of getting in touch with, and revealing their subjective experience. Allowing the actors more control over the pace and degree to which they shared their experience of the play has been one of the early adjustments we've made in our work thus far, with good effect.

Good fortune seems to follow our project.  I received an email in December from Tom Teasley, a professional musician, composer and sound healer with an international following.  We had the good fortune to collaborate with Tom during our presentation of Off the Map at AGPA in 2008. Tom’s interpretive style of creating and using music for both theatrical and healing purposes is ready made for our projects. So when Tom reached out in hopes of collaborating again, it felt as if the gods themselves had intervened on our behalf.  Tom will join our rehearsals and accompany our play reading of The Great God Pan with an original musical interpretation in Boston.You can hear a sampling of Tom's musical genius, by clicking here. 

Rob Williams did some web-based researching and found two interviews with the playwright, Amy Herzog, discussing her approach to writing The Great God Pan.  I found her keen interest in the nature of remembering clinically very relevant.  The neuroscientists understand the normative processes of encoding and retrieving memories of past experience, the disruptive impact of trauma on that process, and the vicissitudes of memory in the aging brain.  Herzog has translated those sensibilities with such skill and artistry into her characters of Pan. We’re fortunate to be working with a play—and playwright—that has such exquisite clinical attunement.

You can experience the interviews with Ms. Herzog at:

http://www.playwrightshorizons.org/shows/trailers/amy-herzog-great-god-pan/ 

http://www.playwrightshorizons.org/shows/trailers/tim-sanford-and-amy-herzog/

Part of the actor assignment is to narratively track their rehearsal experience that will eventually be posted as blog accounts for all to read, after our first performance date has come and gone (AGPA, March 8).  The actors' unique vantage point will make very interesting reading. Look for their blog postings after March 8.

In the meantime, I will continue to post some of my directorial process.  This will both help me in gaining clarity as I move through the final decision making process for a number of artistic and process related decisions, and hopefully will be of interest to both the actors and prospective audience members!

One directorial decision that has arrived is the choice of an image for the program cover.  This is the image we have selected:

 

Food for thought…I’m looking forward with confidence to the formal rehearsal process that begins January 12.

Bob Schulte

AGPA 2014 & The Great God Pan

The Process Begins…

Preparing an ensemble of group therapist/actors to present a stage play for an audience of group therapist colleagues, in the service of their mutual professional development, is a complex process. The interplay of artistic sensibilities, small group dynamics, personal meanings, learning goals and performance anxieties requires a highly collaborative approach.

Following a summer of readings and discussions between the actors and myself, and weekly meetings the project’s consultant, I devised a process-centered approach to our preparation and eventual performance.  I share the basic elements of our plan in the service of transparency, collaboration, reflection and refinement. 

Script Selection

Last year at AGPA we presented Becky Shaw by Gina Gionfriddo. This Pulitzer Prize-nominated comedy explores the self-protective strategies of keeping secrets to save face, telling lies to protect others, and justifying fraud for personal gain —think ‘paranoid/schizoid position’.  The audience discussion, however, let us know that while the performances were felt to be compelling, and the play fascinating and funny, too many questions remained.

The playwright’s sometimes-facile approach to early traumatic loss (foremost the unexplained death of Max’s mother and the unrevealed true nature of the relationship between Max’s and Suzanna’s parents) and a too-tidy resolution of unconscious enactments (foremost the sexual encounter between Max and Suzanna) did not satisfy the sophisticated audience of psychotherapists. Their ‘something is still not right here’ reactions matched my own directorial sense that something more sinister and trauma-based was actually driving the action of the play. My impression at the end of the play was a sense of mystery that fell somewhere between ‘Chekhovian fog’ and comedic expediency.

Enter The Great God Pan

With karmic-like timing, I first encountered The Great God Pan, by Amy Herzog, during the later stages of rehearsal for Becky Shaw. Colleague Joyce Lowenstein asked us to consider the play for a future presentation at a Division 39 Conference.  Ironically, The Great God Pan begins with a traumatic secret courageously revealed in the service of psychic healing.

“Jamie's life in Brooklyn seems just fine—a beautiful girlfriend, a budding journalism career, and parents who live just far enough away. But when the possibility that he might be the victim of a childhood trauma, chaos ensues” (Dramatist Play Service).

Unsettling and deeply compassionate, The Great God Pan explores the impact of childhood sexual abuse on intimate relationships, the destabilizing effect of secrets on a couples' capacity for intimacy, the enduring influence of the internalized parental couple on attachment relationships and the power of group process to activate healing. 

In stark contrast to Becky Shaw, Herzog’s Pan relentlessly pursues truth telling, employing empathy and authentic confrontation to approach memories of traumatic loss and to facilitate reconciliation—think ‘depressive position’.  We take up the task of presenting The Great God Pan in hopes of a corrective emotional experience to our complicated and unresolved experience with Becky Shaw.  The two plays are so powerfully linked in my mind that I am approaching The Great God Pan as a spin-off from, or sequel to, Becky Shaw.

The reading will be followed by a formal discussant response, an audience discussion and an actor debriefing segment to allow attendees an opportunity to explore their experience of the play and discuss clinical issues relevant to their practice of group therapy.

Cast & Leadership Team

Typically we open up the process of casting to all Red Well Theater Group members.  But the spin-off concept created the option of using the same ensemble from the 2013 Open Session.  This would allow those of us who participated in Becky Shaw to share in the ‘corrective emotional experience’. I was also reminded of the AGPA Institute’s popular variation of offering a multi-year PGE experience.  These associations boosted my confidence that we would benefit from a two-year journey.

These panelist/actors from last year are included in the 2014 cast: Kavita Avula, Liz Marsh, Yavar Moghimi, Rosemary Segalla and Rob Williams. Last year’s understudy Barbara Keezell and first time guest artist, Connor Dale complete the cast. Eleanor Counselman from Boston will be the discussant and facilitator of the audience discussion.  John Dluhy, who was the co-director for Becky Shaw is now in a consultant role to the director and rehearsal debriefing facilitator. I will again work as the producer/director.

Presentation Style

The format is simple.  The play will be read by group therapist/actors who are assigned a character and given a script, a music stand and a chair.  The actors will be arranged so they can visually interact with one another from their stationary position, giving the visual appearance for the audience of a cross between a radio play and a traditional theater rehearsal.  We stage our readings ‘in-the-round’. A musician will provide incidental music between the play’s ten scenes to amplify the feelings that flow throughout.  The hang drum, with its ethereal tonal quality, feels just right.

Since we don't have costumes, sets or props, we research visual images that can be used during the rehearsal process to inspire our theatrical sensibilities. As the rehearsal process unfolds, one of the images will be selected to grace the cover of the printed program.

Rehearsal Approach

For the first time we are using a formalized, two-step approach to preparing the actors to present the play. 

This fall we are conducting three, once-a-month readings, whereby the actors will have the opportunity to read a variety of roles from the play. This psychodrama-inspired approach gives the actor an opportunity to develop a deeper play-as-a-whole understanding, to bear witness to other actors interpreting a variety of characters, and to develop deeper empathy for the actor/character relationship.  Each of these pre-rehearsal readings will include an hour-long process session following the play reading.

In January and Februrary we shift to a more traditional theater approach with weekly scene and character study, whereby the actors will rehearse as their assigned character. We will continue to debrief the rehearsal experience each week, as part of the ongoing process of discovery. The last scheduled meeting before traveling to Boston for the AGPA 2014 Annual Meeting is a dress rehearsal with an audience of friends and colleagues.

Clinical Relevance    

Our educational goal of relating the play reading process to our understanding of group therapy processes is enhanced by studying journal articles that elaborate the clinically relevant material found in the play.  We have posted two journal articles on a confidential blog site for the actors to reference throughout the rehearsal period:

The Impact of Child Sexual Abuse on Adult Interpersonal Functioning: A Review and Synthesis of the Empirical Literature (Davis, Petretic-Jackson, 2000)

Beyond Doer and Done to: An Intersubjective View of Thirdness (Benjamin, 2004)

The RWTG Blog

The actors participating in Becky Shaw last year posted blog entries that revealed an impressive depth of understanding about their characters, the play-as-a-whole and the dynamic process of preparation and performance. 

The actors will again post descriptions of their subjective experience. The actor’s first installment will be in early January 2014, reflecting on their experience of reading the play multiple times together, each time in the role of a different character.  The second installment will be after April 1, 2014, with reflections on their depth experience of preparing their assigned character role for performance. 

The actor’s blog postings will serve as a foundation for a journal article that we plan to write as a team.  Rob Williams and Liz Marsh, as the writing team coordinators, will help us navigate that process.

Join Us

I hope you will follow along as we move through this process of discovery.  For those of you planning to attend the 2014 AGPA Annual Meeting in Boston, we will be presenting The Great God Pan on Saturday morning, March 8. If you would like to attend our dress rehearsal in Washington, D.C., please contact me at bobgroup@aol.com. 

Stay tuned for the actor’s blog postings early next year.

Bob Schulte

After "Becky Shaw"....

RWTG presented the play Becky Shaw, by Gina Gionfriddo, at the AGPA Annual Meeting in New Orleans on Saturday morning, March 2, 2013 as an Open Session. 

In Becky Shaw a family has recently lost its patriarch and is in the process of working out a new dynamic equilibrium amongst its members. A new member officially joins the family and the arrival of a stranger contributes to the small group process in unpredictable ways.

An aspect of our rehearsal preparation has been to consider the impact of the play’s subtext on the small group dynamics of the acting ensemble and the subjective experience of being ‘in character’. 

We share with you our continuing reflections on that process here. 

Kavita: I always appreciate the energy that performing brings to getting into role. For me, there is a sense of urgency that comes with seeing and feeling an audience that is not accessible at rehearsals in the same way. It makes it ever so important to get in touch with one's role. As I came into role in New Orleans, I thought of all the "Becky Shaws" I've worked with and I reflected on the parts of Becky Shaw that may make up a part of my own experience.

I think every group has a Becky Shaw. The member who comes in who is exasperated and hopeless because he or she can't seem to get a viable relationship going and yet, when they relay their story, it is so obvious to everyone where they are going wrong. There is a desperation and a naivetee that is heart-breaking and, at the same time, humorous in its own way. Perhaps it's because so many of us can relate to those times of wanting so much for that one person to like you or wishing to be accepted into some particular group, be it the family group or the cool group at school.

Initially, when "Becky" relays her experiences, group members knowingly exchange glances as the more veteran members gently offer their thoughts and the newer members blurt out what they are thinking, unfiltered. "Becky" usually begins the group with a lot of gripes about those around her and can sometimes

present with a "woe-is-me" attitude. Slowly, she gains awareness about her role in the co-creation of her dysfunctional relationships and, as she listens to other members, realizes she is not so alone. She realizes what she is doing and knows she is on a path to somewhere else. As she feels empowered and develops new skills, she can also develop a sense of lightness and humor. When Susan tells Becky to write up her sob story, for example, and re-apply to Brown, I had a difficult time not laughing out loud each time Rosemary delivered that line. Being able to see one's life misfortunes as something else, perhaps an opportunity or a lesson learned, is one of the group's most powerful gifts. When a group of people can share the burden of carrying the suffering of one, it frees up the ribcage to breathe, notice what's actually going on, and sometimes, laugh.

As I have grown up as a person and a therapist, I've learned to curb my own "Beckyness" by coming to the understanding that many things will not go my way try as I might and it can be quite liberating to accept the things that don't and be open to the possibilities on the paths I would not have necessarily chosen. Becoming too intent on any one outcome can blind us to the many good things inherent in any given moment or circumstance.

This play was a particularly special journey because in the midst of it, I became a mother. Though I knew that the birth of my baby would come close to the conference date, I wanted to continue to be in the play because I knew my life would be turning upside down as I knew it and I wanted to hold on to some aspect of my pre-parent self. When my life began to become immersed in all things prenatal - vitamins, appointments, childbirth classes - and, later about 6 weeks before the conference, all things postpartum - diapers and feeding, diapers and feeding - once a week, that Sunday morning would come where we would munch on Rosemary's delicious spreads and I would once again be that same old therapist I always was. Chatting with the other therapists, catching up on our practices and lives, reading the play, and talking through what might be going on clinically for each character, was a welcome change from all the baby talk that was happening the rest of the week. It was great and refreshing to hold onto that role that I've been playing for so long.

A big, giant thank you to Bob Schulte and the RWTG cast of Becky Shaw for taking care of me during this most important transition.

Rob: For me, this played turned out to be about family. Both the dysfunctional, yet still somehow functioning  family of the play, and the supportive, vibrant family that we have become as the Red Well Theater Group. Playing Andrew was not much of a stretch for me and being comfortable in the role from the beginning allowed me to be less anxious and more present with my fellow actors in their roles. I really enjoyed watching the evolution of the characters as we progressed from rehearsal to rehearsal, deepening our understanding of the complex currents which run beneath the family portrayed in Becky Shaw.

Liz: I often talk about roles in group with my clients. I educate about people’s proclivities towards certain roles and how a predisposition may develop based on the dynamics that were present in our families of origin. At least once a day, I challenge a client to try a different role, whether I use that language or not. Always, I am asking individuals to step out of their comfort zone and experiment with a new behavior, especially with how they relate to others around them.

This group psychotherapy concept, that within groups we get to try on different ways of relating to others, seems particularly relevant to the part of Suzanna in “Becky Shaw” and my experience playing her. Of course, there was a literal role change for me as I attempted to figure out who Suzanna is and how to become someone that is not myself. This was a tricky task. It forced me to explore my relationships to the other members of Redwell as well as parts of Suzanna that were shadow elements of my own character.

Even more so, however, within the action of the play, Suzanna is struggling with her “group” (family) to break out of her role as dependent and own a new identity as “decider” (a title that gets referred to several times throughout the play). Max and Susan benefit from Suzanna have a weaker voice and are complicit in “hobbling” her as she grows up, and even as an adult. Suzanna’s marriage to Andrew constitutes the formation of a new subgroup and an opportunity for Suzanna to experiment with role, the same way that our clients get to try on new ways of being in our psychotherapy groups. Suzanna plays at being more equal in a space where her decisions are respected and honored. Just like our clients, she is then able to bring her new role back to her family and assert herself at the end of the play.

There is a leap of faith that our clients must take when they bring their work (and their new roles) out of the group and into their outside relationships. It is an act of bravery in the face of the unknown. In “Becky Shaw”, we see Suzanna try on a new role, but we don’t get to see how it plays out in the end. For the audience, we are left with that sense of uncertainty. For me as actress, I am left holding hope and anxiety of whether the new Suzanna will be safe and successful.

Leaving our performance at AGPA, I felt unsettled. I wanted another run, more time to practice, or maybe a sequel to understand how it would all play out in the end. With more distance, I see this as a reaction to Suzanna’s role experimentation. Her bravery to stand up for herself with her family left me, as the actress, nervous and feeling exposed. Luckily, I have my Redwell family to hold my anxiety and support me in my new roles (in all sense of the word).

Yavar: It wasn't until we started reading plays for our next season, that I realized I wasn't done with Becky Shaw.  I wasn't ready to put Max's character aside just as I was beginning to understand what makes him tick.  I wasn't ready to give up the aggressive, honest, vulgar dialogue that he dispensed onto others whether they wanted to hear his opinion or not.  There was something liberating about being able to dispense "wisdom" in that manner, without a forethought as to how this may affect the other person. A very different feeling from my everyday experience with patients, where I'm waiting for the right intervention at the right time.  By allowing myself to take on different self states in front of an audience it made me feel capable of breaking the boundaries of how people conventionally see me and how I see myself. Although, many of Max's characteristics are deplorable, I envied his ability to be effective and be a leader.  I wasn't ready to just brush his character aside and move on to the next one, because how could they possibly express themselves as clearly and directly as he does.     But just like the loss in status that Max experienced in the play, no one character can stay strong throughout.  I have to accept the death of Max and move on to the next play and the next role.

Bob: The dress rehearsal at Rosemary’s Georgetown home boosted my confidence our project was on track. The small audience of family members, colleagues and friends gave us enlightened feedback that the performances were compelling and the play intriguing. I left for AGPA the next day encouraged that we were well prepared.

I also knew there would be one more opportunity to rehearse in New Orleans before the open session. Rather than go to the session ‘cold’, we scheduled an opportunity to connect, run lines and lunch together on Friday. During the rehearsal we discussed the pivotal scene 2, Act II where Max and Suzanna confront the truth of how they truly feel about each other.

As group therapists we know that the ‘last five minutes’ of a session often reveal the deepest of emotions. A similar phenomenon occurs in a rehearsal process. I witnessed the raw power of loss, betrayal and pain beginning to be felt at the dress rehearsal and I wanted to underline the importance of a pivotal scene in revealing the play’s essence. I forever remember the advice of the college dean of the theater department where I studied over 35 years ago: “Find the two minutes in the play that matter the most, and do everything you can to elevate those two minutes”—a theatrical two minute drill. At the performance on Saturday Scene 2, Act II broke my heart—in a good way.

One of the behind-the-scenes methods for preparing the play reading was weekly post-rehearsal consultation sessions with the co-director John Dluhy. John and I have been working together since the beginning of RWTG over 10 years ago. We were able to use the depth of our relationship to examine the complexities of the play and to recognize and reflect on the parallel processes emergent within the acting ensemble’s small group dynamics—and our own. These weekly discussions translated directly into increased clarity in our understanding of the play and instructively guided our work with the actors.

The actor debriefing and audience discussion immediately following the reading is the ‘third act’ of our play

reading format. Mary Dluhy immediately tuned into the affective level of the actor’s experience in the debriefing session and with good effect. This focus helped us begin the process of recognizing that the power of the play was alive in both the actors and in the audience members. The first two comments from male members of the audience were challenging critiques of our work. I silently noted to myself that this sudden

jolt of reality at the start of the audience discussion was also how the play begins, with Susan and Suzanna “making a scene in the lobby” and Max trying to intervene and restore the peace. I resisted my own urge to protest, but silently cheered Rosemary’s in-character retort, replete with her Southern charm, “Sir, I am so sorry we have disappointed you!” I heard this not as a rejection of the commentary, but as confirmation that the spirit of the play was alive and well—in everyone!

I appreciate and respect the artistry and hard work of the therapist/actors, Liz, Yavar, Rob, Kavita and Rosemary and the value deeply the leadership team’s support, containing function and insights. Thank you John, Mary, and Molly.

When I returned home from New Orleans to reengage my therapy practice, I found myself facing the impending departure of a highly esteemed member of my men’s group. The remaining members were struggling to know how they truly felt about this loss. Their efforts to express both their grief and appreciation for what this man meant to them were moving. I felt a deep appreciation for their loss and determination to carry on. The process of working with the RWTG actors exploring the themes of loss, betrayal and resilience through the play Becky Shaw has deepened my empathy for the work we do as group therapists. I am grateful to playwright Gina Gionfriddo for her amazing creation.

Rehearsal Reflections on "Becky Shaw"

In Becky Shaw a family has recently lost its patriarch and is in the process of working out a new dynamic equilibrium amongst its members. A new member officially joins the family and the arrival of a stranger contributes to the small group process in unpredictable ways.

An aspect of our rehearsal preparation has been to consider the impact of the play’s subtext on the small group dynamics of the acting ensemble and the subjective experience of being ‘in character’.

We share with you some of our reflections on that process here. We’ll also update our posts after we return from our Open Session at the AGPA Annual Meeting.

In researching the play, we discovered an interview conducted with playwright Gina Gionfriddo in which she describes her appreciation for the unique contributions of the actors and audience to the creative process:

“I am very turned on by… the process by which actors and audiences show the writer what their play is and isn’t… I feel like there are subtexts kind of bubbling under the surfaces in my plays and a lot of times actors see them when I do not."

John Dluhy: This is my attempt to learn a directorial method, my first attempt to learn failed because at age seventeen I would get too angry with my fellow actors. The process of directing requires me to understand the whole play and all the parts so in some sense it is similar to the challenge of understanding a family when doing family therapy. I always felt this as the most basic of psychotherapy to go to the group that gave birth to the pathology.

As I work with the co-director, I feel that we are doing co-therapy as we discuss with the actors--a nuclear family and one outsider, their dynamics and the meanings of the words spoken. I find each rehearsal and each private discussion with the co-director extends my understanding of the play, enabling me to give better instructions to the actors. I have discovered when I try some intervention before discussing it with the co-director I often have poorly timed the offering. I feel each session with the cast and/or director lead to learning. I find this more satisfying than the pleasurable role of actor. I am no where near deciding which role I like better!


Rosemary Segalla: With AGPA quickly approaching I have been contemplating our play presentation, Becky Shaw. As with so many of our productions, I find the more I read the play, the more complex it becomes. This has had me thinking about the difference between going to see a play, processing the experience with friends and then moving on to my next theatrical experience. I am now exploring how much is lost when we simply see a play, discuss it and soon forget it, perhaps with a few lingering thoughts or feelings.

When I first read Becky Shaw, I was not feeling very excited. The characters and the plot seemed thin. The more we rehearsed, contemplating the potential subplots, what may have preceded for the characters, and what will happen next, the more interesting it has become. The characters are dimensional now and the interacting systems more complex. It has me thinking that going to a good play several times is bound to enhance the depth of experiences we can enjoy.


Yavar Moghimi: "Unless you're Gandhi or Jesus, you have a limited sphere of responsibility. You have a plot of land and the definition of a moral life is tending that plot." - Max Garrett

For the past two months, on every Sunday morning, I attempt to look at the world through the eyes of Max Garrett in the play "Becky Shaw".  He is the adopted son of the Slater family whose social role begins to shift with the death of the patriarch, Richard. Max has questionable ethics, to say the least, but that is a blind spot more apparent through the eyes of others.  The challenge in identifying with his world view was looking at myself and the parts that wholly agreed with him.  His quote above felt emblematic to me of how Max's worldview shapes his actions.  At it's essence, it's a very pragmatic statement that I can easily identify with. How much of myself can I give to people that are outside of my plot of land (i.e. family, friends patients)?  Where do I draw the line?  How do I decide whether I include someone in the plot or not?  Where Max's rules of morality show a failing is the rigidity with which he holds to that rule in all situations and the impermeability of letting that plot of land expand.

It helped me to understand his inflexibility when I framed it as an adaptive response to the abandonment and transactional nature of his early childhood.  The other parts of Max that I not only identify with, but aspire to is the decisiveness and assuredness that he has as a leader.  People are drawn to him and trust him to manage their money/lives and make the important decisions when they count, because they know he will tell them the brutal truth, whether they want to hear it or not.  As a therapist, Max's style of confrontation may not work with all patients, but there are moments when channeling Max has felt appropriate.  I could keep going on about other aspects of Max's character that we discovered during our rehearsals, which speaks to the power of theater as a tool for building empathy.  This is especially true in the complex characters in "Becky Shaw" that feel like they jump right off the page and into our offices, or not in Max's case.


Kavita Avula: I remember the first time we read Becky Shaw as a group and how much we laughed throughout the reading.  The quick wit, compelling characters, and cutting sarcasm struck us as hilarious the first time around.  As time went on and the underlying trauma of each character became more apparent, we were struck by the complexity of each character and, in particular, the sad and painful stories that emerged.   Though characters had shared experiences of rejection, abandonment, and a degraded sense of self, the way in which they each organized around these early painful experiences was varied, making some more enticing and others more repellent.

Becky Shaw is less able to conceal her desperation for connectedness than a character like Max even though their core insecurities are not all that different.  Her urgency to form close bonds overrides logic, reason, and common sense.  In place of quick wit is neediness and instead of coming across as badass, she can seem pathetic.  She is that group member that makes everyone cringe as she relays her story because her behavior is so outrageous and desperate, everyone knows in which direction the story is headed well before it's over.  On the other hand, it's this same member whose progress is so gratifying when it finally happens, if she remains in group, that is.  At so many junctures in the play, I would shake my head to myself and think, Ohhh, Becky.  It's a tricky balance to give members like Becky the candid feedback they need without inducing yet another shame-filled experience of themselves-in-relation.

Rob Williams: Preparation for this play has been more intense than any previous Red Well production that I have been a part of. Discovering the history of the Slater family that has taken place in the years before our play has been an invigorating process that has helped flesh out the characters and revealed motivations beneath the surface that has made being a part of this production a very rich experience.

In this production, I play the part of Andrew Porter, a character very much like me, who reveals to me an earlier version of myself with more clarity than typically afforded me in one of our productions. This Andrew and the younger Rob are very much the same in the way that they are attracted to others who need them and easily take on their burdens. They are uncertain that they are lovable as they are and attempt to adapt their lives to fit the needs of others and lose sight of their own priorities in life. Over the course of the play, Andrew learns this about himself and has to face the truth of his actions. Much like a novice therapist, Andrew learns that he can be swayed emotionally more than he realizes and that boundaries protect both the client and the therapist, the lover and his beloved.

Liz Marsh: In this play, Suzanna is trying to figure out a new role in her family of origin, now that her father has died, and in her chosen family, as she moves away from Max and joins with Andrew. As the audience, we see her grabble with “decision making”, rather than being dependent on the men around her.

As I get more intimate with Suzanna, I realize that this play has entered my life during a similar time of role transition. During the time since we first read Becky Shaw, I have started a private practice and pursued my post-graduate education in a way that has changed my understanding of what I am capable of as a clinician. I am working on claiming my authority and shedding my role as student, much as Suzanna is finding her voice in the play.

During our second-to-last play rehearsal, John Dluhy commented that Suzanna is the main character in the play. He reflected that she is in almost every scene and that her hubris in many ways drives the plot. I did not see Suzanna that way. I saw her as moving in and out of relationships with equally "main" characters and I see her as often being blind to the dynamics being presented to her.

Just as I am solidifying my identity as a clinician, I am also negotiating my role in the Redwell theater group. As the youngest member of the group and a relatively inexperienced therapist, I have seen myself as an outsider, sometimes at the whim of group decisions. I have often been aware of my desire to prove myself and gain membership. As much as it feels novel for me to recognize that I am capable to practice independently, I have been wary of accepting that I am part of Redwell, even as a guest artist. Maybe this is part of why it is hard for me to see Suzanna (me) as having as central a role in this play (ensemble) as John proposed.

Perhaps Becky is not the only outsider wishing to be an insider. As Suzanna reconciles her desire for Andrew with her need to be included in the ongoing drama of her family of origin and I stand firmly as a solid member of Redwell and as a therapist in private practice, I realize that we are always looking for recognition and acceptance of our hard sought "decisions". And for recognition and acceptance of who we are.

Barbara Keezell: Becky Shaw is the character after whom the play is named. I see her as very vulnerable at first, desperate to be liked and accepted, continually laying herself bare, asking what she’s doing wrong. However, there’s also a calculating aspect to her. She twists words and manipulates to get what she wants, albeit with mixed success.

As an understudy to the role and a first time actor, with Redwell or elsewhere, and also being from a different geographic location than the rest of the actors for this play, I related to Becky in a number of ways. Just as Becky was unsure if Max & the others would accept her, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be “included” in the play, literally. So I identified with Becky’s feeling excluded or uncertain of her status. I too wondered what this group, like Max’s family, might think of me as an actor or as an intruder.

I, however, was thrilled to be included in this project, even as an understudy and am hoping to get a similar
dramatic reading group going in Boston. I have also decided to take an acting class.

Bob Schulte: Becky Shaw seems uniquely suited to revealing some fundamental principles of dynamic group therapy. Just as a savvy group therapist might inquire of a group, "So, what isn't being said in the group today?", I have found myself keenly interested in the silent 'play beneath the play' in Becky Shaw. The unspoken, hidden elements of the 'back story' of the characters lives have become a pathway to understanding better the nature of attachment trauma and its impact on our selves and our intimate relationships. Becky Shaw is a comedy on the surface, but 'something else' in its depths. I appreciate the actors courage, talents and insights in exploring the 'something else', for their own benefit and for our audience of colleagues in New Orleans.