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BUILDING a Directing & Ensemble Creation INSTITUTE by Nobuko Miyamoto

BUILDING A Directing & Ensemble Creation INSTITUTE

Minneapolis, December 1-8, 2012

By Nobuko Miyamoto, Artistic Director, Great Leap

When Andrea Assaf sent me an invitation to participate in the development of a “National Directing and Ensemble Creation Institute,” I was a bit surprised and honored.  I thought it a great opportunity to learn and share with others and see what I could bring back to my organization.  At Great Leap, we started our mentorship program, Collaboratory, to share our values and methodology around our 30th year.  I thought this could help us.  It was a challenge taking off full week from Great Leap, but it was worth it.  Every day and every hour was packed full and there was no way to imagine how profoundly the deep exchange and thoughtful discourse with these incredible, artists/thinkers/directors would affect me.

Organizing the Week

On December 1, Saturday evening, our first gathering was a dinner at the home of Dipankar Mukerjee and Meena Natarajan.  This warm welcoming of old friends and strangers with tasty Indian food set the tone for the days to come.  We were in the well-organized hands and loving hearts of the Pangea World Theater and Art2Action.

We worked daily from 9am to 9pm, with breaks for lunch (often provided on site) and dinner, which were also filled with meetings discussions, and evening sessions.  The main facility was Intermedia arts, which was nice because it allowed us to have stage space, plus meeting and lunch spaces.  The hip artistic atmosphere and their branding phrase, “ART CHANGES EVERYTHING” was so fitting.  A valuable part of our experience was working in Pangea’s studio in the evenings.  It was filled with the vibration of their history, creative and spiritual energy.

I liked the balance between working on our feet and sit-down discussions.  Most of the week was devoted to sharing of creative methodologies and discussions of values, history and curriculum development.  There was also some Open Space time for us to share, collaborate or rehearse.  On Thursday and Friday, a few hours were used to prepare a presentation.  Ordinarily this could be chaos and pressure, but the expertise of the organizers and the artists in the room made it flow quite easily.  We had much more material to share than we imagined.  I think we filled 2 ½ hours, and the audience, which was mostly local artists, easily slipped into many of the exercises we shared.

The planning by Meena Natarajan, Dipankar Mukherjee and Andrea Assaf was excellent.  Andrea did an amazing job facilitating and managing the agenda, plus herding us “mountain lions” (as Sharon Bridgforth lovingly called us).  I believe we benefited from her experience researching other training institutes such as the Urban Bush Women Summer Leadership Institute and LaMama Umbria’s International Directors Symposium. She was firm, timely, but able to creatively accommodate, like my volunteering to lead the morning warm-ups so I could at least get in a little of my morning practice.  This led to others sharing their warm-ups, giving us another opportunity to experience each other’s techniques.  Pangea’s on-the-ground staff, starring Katie Herron-Robb handled logistics and details with amazing efficiency, enthusiasm and loving care. Their work was a reflection of the spirit, work ethic and principles that guide Pangea on a daily basis.  You could feel this through Meena’s and Dipankar’s caring presence.  Throughout the week, Dipankar’s humor, humility and brilliance, was our gentle anchor.

No time or space was wasted.  I only wish that there had been an opportunity to see a little of what is going on in the Twin Cities.  But the seven days of twelve hours  was barely ample time to cover what we needed and wanted to share.  This was compounded by the desire to get know each of the incredible artists/directors.  Linda Parris-Bailey added an extra event with her  Thursday evening potluck party, filled with food, spirits and videos of those who wanted to show their work.   All of it was a rich and rare bonding experience for us.


On Sunday Morning, 9am, we jumped into our first working day.  Openings are important.  We started in a circle with an offering of song, sage and prayer by Sharon Day, of the Indigenous People’s Task Force.  She is part of the Ojibwe nation from Minnesota.  The ritual of asking for a blessing from those who came before gave us a sense of ‘place.’  It created the sacred space for the circle we were part of.

Who’s in the Room

Our circle included a diverse group of artist/leaders, mostly women and people of color, who came from theater towns like Los Angeles, San Francisco, Manhattan and Minneapolis, but also from Anchorage, Vancouver, New Orleans, Knoxville, San Antonio, Tijuana, the Bronx and more.  There were about 30 of us, including Pangea’s local artists and special guests.  This number allowed us to sit in a circle and see and hear each other intimately.  The wise choice of artists gave a taste of the breadth and depth of ethnic, cultural and regional distinctions that represented the Americas, as well as world cultures.  We also came from different generations and genres, from roots in Civil Rights struggles to today’s Hip Hop generation.  Each of us briefly told our story in the large story circle on that first day.  I was touched by everyone’s personal journey and how their life profoundly changed when they found their voice as an artist.   It was not just the story of a complex and changing America we were hearing. I felt the whole world was in this circle.

There were many subjects that we discussed in our seven days:  Aesthetics, Rigor, Elements of Directing, Lineage, “Collaborator vs. Dictator” in the role of the director, to name a few.  We also had wonderful directors/guests that brought different experiences of their work to us, including Laurie Carlos, Rick Shiomi, Marty Pottenger, Harry Waters and Sharon Bridgforth.  We looked at different models of Institutes, comparing Urban Bush Woman, LaMama, Cornerstone and more.  And of course, we discussed Curriculum Development.  The emphasis in my report, is on the following areas:  the exchange methodology process, where this work came from…and where it can go.

What is my work?  What do I do?  How can I serve your purpose too?

One of the exercises Linda Parris-Bailey of The Carpetbag Theatre brought into the circle was this repetitive chorus, chanted by the group, over which we each gave our responses to the questions.  This simple form, which came through the Civil Rights Movement, illustrates so well how the art of song can lift the spirit and set the intention of serving the community in the midst of their struggle.  It still rings in my head, not only because that’s what a catchy melody and rhyme can do, but because it captures the spirit of the kind of art making we are engaged in.

“What is our work?” Our work creates theater to give voice to stories and struggles that are often omitted, ignored, self-silenced and detoured by America’s mainstream culture-makers.  As artists, writers, directors, actors, we facilitate the creative process in non-traditional, non-hierarchal ways.  For instance, without a script, material for a play can emerge directly from workshops with communities like Somali or Cambodian immigrants, Native American or transgender youth, who might also end up on-stage as performers.  The power one feels in telling a story that needs to be told, and told well, is electric–not only from the point of view of the storyteller, but for the audience, who may be fellow community members.  It dissolves the mystique and division between artist and audience:  we become two halves of the same circle.

“What do we do?” and how we do it was a major focus of our days together.  It was a rare opportunity and great fun to participate, exchange, play and observe the techniques of other artists.

Each day, an hour of Morning Movement was shared by different artist/leaders.  My warm-up, which uses breath to unite body/mind/spirit, led into a slow motion group dance that physically connected individuals with others in the group, like a moving mobile.  This developed into a movement improvisation, with intermittent  freezes to allow each individual to express his/her name in creative ways.  I thought it a good way to introduce ourselves to each other.   I was amazed, when later in the week, Kathy Randels’ warm-up felt almost like an extension of mine.  She guided us in groups of 7 or 8 to move silently through the space without a leader, yet each could be a leader, deciding when to move or stop, to walk slowly or quickly.  We were learning to move and think as one, as a unit.  We were making instant and instinctive decisions to change rhythms, directions and interact with other groups.  It was so simple, so basic, almost like the movement of cells…yet becoming more complex.  Other warmups given by Alejandra Tobar-Alatriz went even deeper into personal cellular sensitivity; Suzy Messerole emphasized flow yoga; Charlotte Braithwaite’s warm up led to an exercise that had us swing our body, twisting right and left with strong rhythmical music (Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power”) for a lengthy period of time, almost leading us into trance.  It reminded me of Sufi circular spinning, except we were repeating half circles.

Throughout the week there were several sessions to share approaches to mining stories, sharing our feelings…whether in a word, a sentence, a poem, a movement.

Steven Sapp of UNIVERSES, had each of us list of 20 significant life events, then chose one and create a Haiku about it.  He put us into groups of 3 or 4 and we collaborated to create a piece connecting our individual Haiku.  Some pieces were connected through movement, some transformed more musically.  It was a wonderful way to compress and connect with other stories, which grew new meanings.

S.T. Shimi, of Jump Start Performance Company, gave us text to inspire a simple gesture, then develop it into a series of movements.  She then had us collaborate in small groups to juxtapose our movements with others, growing the meanings of our assigned text.

Dipankar, early in the week, introduced Pangea’s practice of 2 minutes of silence with deep breathing.  They do this in their office as well as in rehearsals.  We adopted it and wove it through our days, and it was a valuable addition.  Each time we came together for a new session, it brought us away from our chatter and into the present moment, to zero mind, to empty page, to empty stage…where we began anew.

Dora Arreola, of Mujeres en Ritual Danza-Teatro, beautifully expressed her philosophy and method of using objects to help people ‘see’ ways into story and build a movement vocabulary.  This process has grown from her work with women in Tijuana, México.

Dan Kwong of Great Leap shared his very fun and physical approach to exploring  gender  identity.  He used the Asian game of Jan Ken Po (paper/scissors/rock) and an aggressive race to the finish line to get us out of our heads.  We then sat back to back in dyads with eyes closed for a few minutes and thought about the first time we realized we were a girl, boy or whatever our gender identification.  We shared our stories with our partners and some with the whole group.  (He usually has a writing exercise after.)

Kathy Randels, of ArtSpot Productions, led us in a couples dancing exercise, to the accompaniment of a song we sang.  This was a dip into New Orleans culture, and a fun lesson in following and leading.  Breaking tradition in male and female roles was both provocative and hilarious.

Ed Bourgeois, of the Alaska Native Heritage Center, showed his Native style of theater/storytelling with a scripted story that still makes me laugh.  Donning the voice and attire of an elder Native woman, he engaged volunteers that he then  appointed as characters in his short play–a trickster bird, a tree, etc.  It was clever and comical while sharing aspects of Native Alaskan people’s cultures…with the addition Ed’s humorous and sarcastic personality, which we enjoyed throughout the gathering.

These are some of the exercises and practices that we shared, and probably some I can’t remember (sorry, senior moments).  As I reflect on the week in general, I was moved by so many things.  First, working in the room with these artists made me realize this is a powerful and distinctive field of work.  Though we have many different approaches and cultural uniqueness, there are great similarities in ‘what we do.’

Commonalities in our work

– The Circle:  Starting work in a circle is both symbolic and practical.  It creates a sense of oneness, sacredness.  Everyone has equal access. The circle is inclusive and can open to include more.  For our purposes, as a practical learning circle, 30 was a good size.

– Creating Safe Space:  The process of arriving at Agreements is an important part of creating a safe space.  Some of ours were:  be on time, active listening, no assumptions, speak honestly, all feelings are valid, step up/step back, respect yourself and others, it’s okay to have fun, take care of self, be generous, honor the process, share aspirations, it’s okay to disagree, mistakes are okay, oneness does not mean sameness, democracy is messy, acknowledge peoples of the land, and all ancestors are here.   Non-judgment is one of the most important agreements.

– Inclusiveness:  The beauty of these exercises is that they can engage and work with anyone.  I’ve used similar techniques with youth and elders, with actors and community members.  A few years ago, I was doing interfaith workshops at my Buddhist Temple using many similar techniques with people of different faiths.  An older Japanese man, a temple member, wandered in and began watching.  Somehow he was drawn into the group, began moving with us and shared his story with the others.  After a while his wife came looking for him, and he slipped out of the group as easily as he slipped in.  Amazing! These kinds of exercises allow a rare place for people to ‘play’ and explore their creativity while enjoying themselves.

– Encouraging Equal Voice:  It’s easy for people who are more verbal to dominate conversations.  Here is an opportunity to practice restraint.  Methodologies that are more physical allow people who are less verbal, or don’t speak English or the dominant language well, to participate more equally.  Sharing among peers can bring ghosts into the room or be a deeply revealing and healing process.  Sharing across cultures can be bonding and grow respect, helping us see ourselves and the world differently.

– Developing Leadership:  Built into many of the exercises is stepping into leadership.  Movement with others, such as Kathy’s exercise, is a great way of practicing leadership in a physical, yet non-threatening way.  We also learned to follow, or yield leadership–making choices that are artistically interesting or necessary to make things work for the group.  This also demonstrates the relationship between individual and group.  Our Western upbringing emphasizes the power and importance of the individual.  Eastern culture emphasizes doing what’s best for one’s family, the group, the society.  Both are necessary depending on the situation.  Perhaps these practices expand the meaning of leadership into a non-dualistic way of being.

– Valuing Each Story:  These techniques provide a safe place to tell our stories, share our feelings…whether in a word, a sentence, a poem, in movement or dialogue.  To let our stories be heard, witnessed in a circle of compassion and non-judgment is powerful medicine.  But hearing our stories in relation with others helps us see the bigger story we are part of.

– Everyone is Creative:  Our work creates frames to tell our stories in creative ways.  We are born of creativity, yet for most of us, conformity (not creativity) is encouraged.  To be given a space to explore and experience our creativity changes how we walk, how we see, how we act in the world.  Creativity is a practice that can be developed, no matter what our age.

–  Process-oriented:  Creating a ‘devised theater’ piece with each member part of its creation puts the emphasis on process, and may utilize multiple facilitators with different skills.  This community-based practice, like democracy, is often a messy and chaotic.  The roles of script writer and director are also being redefined by this kind of theater making.  Devised process especially requires special skills, sensitivities and non-traditional approaches.

“How does it serve your purpose too?”  The activist/philosopher Grace Lee Boggs often talks about the need to “grow our souls.”  I believe that’s what we are doing in this work.  Through our artistic practices, we are changing ourselves and building a sense of community in a way that Broadway and Hollywood cannot.  This work grows despite meager funding because of the caring and dedication of its practitioners, and because we see its effectiveness.  It is time to recognize this distinctive and democratic way of art creation as a ‘field’ just as important and maybe more essential than Broadway or Hollywood.  We do it not only through content of our stories and the creativity of our presentation, but as a process, a practice, a way of working with people.  We are creating a space for artists and communities to ‘be what we believe.’

Making the Road by Walking

When I came into the Asian American movement in 1969, I stopped working in films and on Broadway as a ‘professional artist’ to become a ‘community artist.’  I was learning everything from scratch.  When I sang with Chris Iijima as a troubadour for the Asian American Movement, he pushed me to write songs.  In Los Angeles, when community members asked me to teach a dance class, I figured out how to teach and create dances with folks who weren’t necessarily dancers.  When the Vietnamese students of Club O’Noodles asked me to do theater workshops, I stumbled my way into techniques to help these non-actors tell their stories on stage.  Eventually my arts organization, GREAT LEAP, grew from these stumblings.  We’ve been around now for 34 years.  Being a community artist has made my life richer, and it has taken me many places…

At the Institute, I wondered how this way of art-making popped up in so many places, in culturally unique yet similar ways.  Somehow we’ve all been ‘making the road by walking.’  Our paths have been crossing, converging and merging and the road is getting wider, more substantial, yet elastic and alive, as artists are always dynamic and changing.

This art has roots.  Whether old enough to be part of ‘the movement’ or not, these artists have been touched by the ideas of Civil Rights, Black Liberation, Chicano, Puerto Rican, Native, Asian American, and women’s LGBT movements.  We’ve been influenced by Theater of the Oppressed, Grotowski and Athol Fugard; absorbed the sounds and cadences of Imamu Baraka, Sekou Sundiata and Tupac Shakur; breathed in the melodies and improvisations Miles Davis and Ravi Shankar; experienced the movements of Urban Bush Women, Butoh and Bharatanatyam.   The philosophies and practices of yoga, Tai Chi, meditation and indigenous rituals using drum, fire, chanting and smoke are healing the colonized mind/body/spirit, returning us to the circle.  We are dissolving the wall between artist and audience, exploring new ways of telling our stories…together.  We have the ability to create community, villages within cities.

We are also part of a theater legacy that has helped birth theater of color in America. To name a few:  In the mid-sixties in Los Angeles, C. Bernard Jackson’s Inner City Cultural Center, and in New York, Ellen Stewart’s LaMama, both created spaces that nurtured the work of Black artists as well as artists of color.  In 1963 John O’Neal established The Free Southern Theater, as a cultural arm of the Civil Rights Movement, later founding Junebug Productions.  Roberta Uno, in 1979, inspired as a teenager by Inner City Cultural Center, created New World Theater at University of Massachusetts in Amherst, to present and become an intersection for artists of color, as well as international artists.  Since New World’s closure, perhaps the intersection has been shifted with Pangea World Theater in Minneapolis, the almost-center of North America, shouldering that role.

Why We Need an Institute

The idea of an Institute comes at a timely moment to share the values, philosophy and an expanding toolbox of methodologies with peers and younger artists. I hope it will inspire and train an army of artists to walk, dance, and find their way into more communities.  An Institute will help our work be recognized as a distinctive ‘field’ vital to our changing society.  As people of color become the majority in our country, we need to share our stories beyond our cultural boundaries to help overcome ignorance and fear of ‘the other.’  We need a way to go beyond ‘us and them,’ ‘win or lose’ dualistic thinking.  We need to help instill new values and practice new ways of being within ourselves and with each other.  As temperatures rise and the earth’s resources shrink, we need to engage communities in creative processes so we can experience our connectedness with each other and the Earth.  And we need to dream…dream the kind of world we want to live in, realizing we are all part of the same circle.

Nobuko Miyamoto at the Pilot Intensive (photo by Luminous Concepts, 2012).

Nobuko Miyamoto at the Pilot Intensive (photo by Luminous Concepts, 2012).


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Observations on the Directing & Ensemble Creation Institute Pilot Convening by Ed Bourgeois

Observations on the Directing & Ensemble Creation Institute

Pilot Convening

December 1-8, 2012 – Minneapolis, MN

By Ed Bourgeois

As an Alaska-based theatre director working primarily in the context of a Native cultural center, I was honored to receive an invitation to attend the pilot intensive of the newly created Directing and Ensemble Creation Institute, held December 1-8, 2012 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Coming from a background of Western theater – with training in the classics at Catholic University, and stage directing experience in the operatic and standard theatrical repertoire – I came to the Pilot Institute with no real experience in ensemble or devised theater process.

It was immediately apparent to me that the majority of invited participants in the room were well versed in the process and practices of this form.  Indeed, many were respected leaders in the field:  former leaders and faculty at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst’s New WORLD Theater, veteran performers in the National Performance Network, and founders of ensemble companies with decades of continuous practice.  In the midst of these luminaries, I felt like a college freshman among alumni and professors.

These are my observations regarding the convening, from the perspective of a novice in this environment.

I was welcomed with open arms.  In this substratum of the theatre world, specific to ensembles and devised work, and despite that I was a newcomer in a world of peers, I was warmly welcomed as a colleague.  This group of professional practitioners gladly gave themselves over to a democratic environment of equality, where everyone – regardless of artistic pedigree or source of theatrical training – generously shared their own skills and experience, and humbly opened themselves to new learning.

There was a staggering amount of activity packed into this eight-day intensive, but kudos to the organizers for creating a most efficient schedule and adhering to it.  Panel discussions and hands-on skill development workshops were mixed with exercises, experimentation and play in such a way that participants were challenged but never over-taxed, with just enough time set aside for meals, rest and socialization.  Convening organizers and staff had every detail well thought-out, and moderated activities so that the group stayed on track and completed objectives each day, and throughout the week.

Noteworthy elements included:  beginning the week with the development of collective Agreements, or consensual standards for operating respectfully as a group; daily morning warm-ups, including Viewpoints training; moments of silence to begin sessions; an altar of sacred objects; guest speakers and discussion panels; development sessions for a proposed Institute curriculum; emphasis on incorporating a focus on social justice into process and creating a respectful, safe working space; and a generous sharing of process and practice by all participants.

Beyond its design, structure and content, what truly set this intensive apart from other convenings, for me, was its soul.  It is clear that a guiding principal for the Institute is its firm grounding in values.  Beginning with the development of the shared Agreements, every decision by workshop leaders and every step of the Pilot process incorporated a focus on diversity, respect, and a commitment to ensuring that all voices were heard.  This bodes well for future participants, who will not only gain theatrical skills, but also the tools needed for incorporating social justice concepts in their directing practices.

Another example of the intentionality that characterizes the Institute is the insistence by hosts Dipankar Mukherjee and Meena Natarajan, Artistic and Executive/Literary Directors of Pangea World Theater, that the indigenous North American voice be honored and incorporated in the Institute, and their invitation of Native American theatre artists, and those who work with them, to participate.  From the initial welcome by Ojibwa community leader and theater artist, Sharon Day and smudging of the space with sage smoke, to the inclusion of an Indigenous Artists panel and elements important to Native participants, such as prayer, music, and conducting work in a circle, Pilot Institute leaders made a bold statement regarding diversity with their intentional inclusion and deference to indigenous voice, practice and values.  As a theater director of French/Haudenosaunee (Mohawk) lineage, who works with Alaska Native artists, I appreciate and was encouraged that this reaching out occurred.

During the Intensive, workshop leaders did not simply demonstrate their process, or “set it on” a company of performers.  Rather, the entire group of directors engaged as an ensemble, participating in the exercises and actively creating work through the process. By the end of a week, more than two hours of material had been developed through writing and improvisation.  In the spirit not of performing, but of demonstrating the process to Minneapolis practitioners, an invited audience of local peers took part in a sharing of work on the final evening of the convening.  In a glorious destruction of “the fourth wall,” members of the audience participated in nearly every presentation, and the house was empty for the culminating piece, which incorporated the entire audience.

But this was not the Intensive’s only magical moment.  Other memorable highlights included:  having Institute organizers push the boundaries of what it means to include everyone; story circles, in which participants’ sharing of their cultures and personal family stories brought a deeper understanding to peers who thought they knew each other before, but perhaps really didn’t; and a focus on “song, story and food – the three critical keys to working with community,” according to Linda Parris-Bailey, director of Tennessee-based The Carpetbag Theater Inc.

And there are some quotes from that magical week that will stick with me, too:

Dipankar Mukherjee on aesthetics:  “The text is a boat on the surface of the water; process is everything underneath, down to the ocean floor.”

Marty Pottenger (Art at Work/Terra Moto) on community engagement:  “Community members that we do this kind of work with never want to be in the show.  Invite them instead to come to the workshop.  Chances are they’ll want to perform their own story in the end.”

But I believe the most valuable information I’ll bring back to my community and try to put into practice is how to begin incorporating the process of true ensemble work. Until now, whenever I’ve gone into rehearsal process, I’ve sat the cast down at a table for a read-through of the script. But what I’ve learned here completely throws that Western text-based interpretive structure out the window. The process that began to be codified during this intensive looks at the creative process in a completely different way – which is beginning with the group itself and mining what each artist contributes to that sacred space that will be home to the rehearsal process, and ultimately develops into the performance itself. Beginning not with words on the page, but with intense physical warm-ups, group process, and interactive activities that form bonds of trust and create a safe place for exploration.

With Institute founders Dipankar Mukherjee and Meena Natarajan of Pangea World Theater and Andrea Assaf of Art2Action Inc. at the helm, a powerful training ground is being prepared, which promises future participants a wealth of practical tools for directing ensembles, but also for making positive change in our world.  It has been an honor to add my voice to the process, and I look forward to news of its further development.

Respectfully submitted,

Ed Bourgeois

Ed Bourgeois performing the Raven Stories at the Pilot Institute (photo by Luminous Concepts, at Intermedia Arts, 2012)

Ed Bourgeois performing the Raven Stories at the Pilot Institute (photo by Luminous Concepts, at Intermedia Arts, 2012)


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Reflections on the 2012 Pilot Institute for Directing & Ensemble Creation by Sharon Bridgforth

2012  Pilot Institute for Directing & Ensemble Creation*


by Sharon Bridgforth


I was thrilled to receive an invitation to participate in the 2012 pilot intensive of the National Institute for Directing & Ensemble Creation.  Due to a prior engagement I wasn’t able to be present for the full week of work so Andrea Assaf, on behalf of Art2Action & Pangea World Theater, asked me to join the pilot Institute for two days of the process. My contribution would be to facilitate a public work-sharing and discussion with an invited audience, and to facilitate a closed debriefing with Institute participants on the final day of the Institute. I am a long time fan of Pangea, and have wanted to work with Andrea for ages. So this was an easy yes for me. The roster of participants revealed an exquisite list of artists. I felt nervous. Excited. Blessed by this invitation. The fact that the group was going to be engaged in an intense process for five full days before my arrival was scary, but I trusted Andrea, Meena and Dipankar’s faith in me. After officially agreeing to join up, my mind swirled in anticipation. How does one find footing in a circle that is already in motion? What can a facilitator do to establish trust, create safety, be most useful in a short period of time? How could I plan work that would be in harmony with the intentions set during a process that I wasn’t a part of? How does one effectively join a group that is already established? I was absolutely intrigued. I knew the challenge would offer me a tasty time of growth. I knew that working with the Institute participants would require I stand tall in my grown people shoes.

Each step closer to entering the room affirmed my experience of knowing that work with the Institute was a Divine Opportunity for me. I could tell that participants were invited, not only because they were brilliant artists, but because they were hard working, respectful, professional, community loving, generous, spirit driven collaborators. The organizers took great care and consideration with each detail along the way. Communication was clear and forthcoming. Upon arrival I found that the lodging was beautiful and convenient. Ground transportation was available. There was wonderful, healthy, delicious food everywhere, all the time. Questions and concerns were welcomed. And I received my check in my hand upon arrival. Great ingredients for making optimal productivity possible, and fun.

The National Institute for Directing & Ensemble Creation was envisioned in response to the dearth of professional opportunities for directors in the U.S., particularly directors of color and women, and to the lack of in-depth ensemble training in various forms for future aesthetics. During the Institute, attention was given not only to the wealth of experience in the room, but to the vast expertise amongst surrounding communities of local and national folk.  Institute organizers worked diligently to activate its goal of creating collaboratively generated material. To open and link the circle. To actively share the work with broader communities. Indigenous, and global traditions were not only embodied in the room, they were valued as models, tools, resources to the circle. This was critical as participants worked to re-imagine theater with no separation of aesthetics and social justice. After all, as Audre Lorde said, “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House.”**

Stepping into the Institute workspace, I immediately felt Lifted. The room was electric. The evidence of deep connection vibrated in the space. Workshop notes layered the walls. There was lots of laughter. Theatre games. Small groups sprawled about deeply engrossed in brainstorming. Some were totally quiet, in contemplation. It was church. Holy, like gumbo. Like Love in action. In this room, filled with heavy hitters, long time artist/leaders/activists. People who have earned national reputations for excellent work. For service. In this room, everyone knew that the work was not about them. That the promise of a greater good was at hand. There was an absence of ego. A kind of generosity and playfulness that felt warm and assuring. Their integrity and soulfulness gave space for me to step in/to step up. For days before my arrival I meditated on a series of questions, ultimately praying to be of use to the greatest good at hand. Standing there breathing in the room, the road map to my quest became clear. Be present. Listen.

Follow their lead.

Circles and circles and circles. Deep breath in. Release. Silence. Open. Connect.

Extend. Honor indigenous voices. Re-imagine our new now. Respect all that Is. Sing

Linda’s song: “What is my work? What do I do? How can I serve, your purpose too?”

Deep breath in.



Sharon Bridgforth at the Pilot Institute (photo by Luminous Concepts, at Intermedia Arts, 2012.)

Sharon Bridgforth at the Pilot Institute (photo by Luminous Concepts, 2012.)

*The National Institute for Directing & Ensemble Creation is a Pangea World Theater & Art2Action collaboration, in partnership with Alternate ROOTS, CAATA, NALAC, NPN, NEFA and NET (supported, in part, by the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, Nathan Cummings Foundation, McKnight Foundation, and the National Endowment for the Arts).

**“Age, Race, Class and Sex: Women Redefining Difference” by Audre Lorde. Paper delivered at the Copeland Colloquium, Amerst College, April 1980. Reproduced in: Sister Outsider Crossing Press, California 1984


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Art2Action partners with The Carpetbag Theatre on Creative Arts Reintegration in Tampa, FL

In October 2013, Art2Action partnered with The Carpetbag Theatre to co-present Linda Parris-Bailey’s newest play, Speed Killed My Cousin,in a week-long residency, in collaboration with the University of South Florida Department of Theatre (Faculty sponsor: Fanni Green) in Tampa.  “SPEED” is the story of an African American woman soldier who returns from Iraq with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),  and battles the impulse to commit suicide as she wrestles with Moral Injury.  The residency included Story Circles and Digital Storytelling workshops with Veterans, USF class visits, community Open Mics, and an Open Rehearsal of the play.  Supported by the Alternate ROOTS Community/Artists Partnership Program (CAPP), partners included the Psychosocial Rehabilitation and Recovery Center (PRRC) of the James A. Haley Veterans Hospital, Sacred Grounds Coffee House, and Mason/Rhynes Productions. 

Here is a list of ARTICLES about The Carpetbag Theatre and our on-going, collaborative work in Tampa, with military veterans and CBT’s developing model of “Creative Arts Reintegration”:

USF Overview of the Residency Week

Speed the CAR: Creative Arts Reintegration by Andrea Assaf & Linda Parris-Bailey

Moral Injury Killed My Cousin by VA Suicide Prevention Team Leader, Lynne Santiago

Opening New Doors: Reflections on Art & Recovery by Veteran Peer Leader, Cheldyn Donovan

Spotlighting VETS in Tampa with Andrea Assaf on Wise Woman Media (August 16, 2013).  Interview begins at 10:18.

True American Struggle Has Many Faces:  Carpetbag Theatre & Art2Action’s USF Residency Wrap Up by Carmin Williams

National Video Conference on Arts & Health in the Military, hosted by Americans for the Arts, featuring Art2Action community partner, Rachel Brink, Chief of the VA-PRRC in Tampa. This is an excellent 1-hour discussion of the role of the arts in recovery and reintegration. To hear Rachel speak about our partnerships (Art2Action, The Carpetbag Theatre, USF and the VA-PRRC), check out 21-27:00, and 50:16-52:08 @ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xNwkHj3Ch18


A Carpetbag Theatre Inc. production

By Linda Parris-Bailey

Directed by Andrea Assaf

Media Design by Melody Reeves

Original Music by Kelle Jolly, John Puckett, and Bert Tanner

Performed by the Carpetbag Theatre ensemble, featuring:  Ashley Wilkerson, Bert Tanner, Linda Parris-Bailey, Carlton “Starr” Releford & Will Dorsey

Speed Killed My Cousin is a timely, moving new play about an African American woman soldier who returns from Iraq with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and is haunted by Moral Injury.  The story unfolds as Debra, the main character, drives down the Long Island Expressway (L.I.E.) in New York.  As she struggles with flashbacks and memories, she tries to talk with her father about his experiences in the Vietnam war, and is visited by his cousin — a Vietnam veteran who died mysteriously in a car crash shortly after his return. She also remembers her mother, and the women she left behind in Iraq, some of whom did not survive. Memories and flashbacks unfold before her, and in her rear-view mirror, as she drives. Ultimately she must decide whether to let go of the wheel, or to choose life.

Speed Killed My Cousin is a Carpetbag Theatre production, supported in part by the NPN Creation Fund, co-commissioned by the National Performance Network, Carpetbag Theatre, Junebug Productions, and Mason-Rhynes Productions; and the Alternate ROOTS Community/Artist Partnership Program.

The Carpetbag Theatre, Inc. (CBT), founded in 1969 and chartered in 1970, is a professional, multigenerational ensemble company dedicated to the production of new works. Their mission is to give artistic voice to the issues and dreams of people who have been silenced by racism, classism, sexism, ageism, homophobia and other forms of oppression. CBT serves communities by returning their stories to them with honesty, dignity, and concern for the aesthetic of that particular community, helping culturally specific communities to re-define how they organize.  The company works in partnership with other community artists, activists, cultural workers, storytellers, leaders and people who are simply concerned, creating original works through collaboration in a style based in storytelling and song.  www.carpetbagtheatre.org

Want more?  Check out The Carpetbag Theatre’s music set on the WDBX Blue Plate Special (2012)

“LIKE”  Speed Killed My Cousin – A play by The Carpetbag Theatre Inc. on Facebook!

SEE “Speed Killed My Cousin” in New Orleans, presented by Junebug Productions, at the Ashe Cultural Center, Nov 21-24, 2013.