This month Gabriela Furtado Coutinho fills us in on what she’s been up to the past month: A trip to the O’Neill’s National Critics Institute!

The Chicago Tribune’s Chris Jones keeps up with BeReal. The Washington Post’s Naveen Kumar travels the world by storm. The New York Times’s Maya Phillips touts that she’s an anime nerd. And The New Yorker’s Justin Chang quips like a stand-up comic. The National Critics Institute, a two-week workshop for arts writers at the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center, transformed how I view not only my own capacities in the world as a writer, but the gorgeous, quotidian humanity of giants in arts journalism. I’ve frequently heard artists and citizens throw around terms like “mainstream media,” “the press,” and “critics” in a negative light—but what they might not see are the big hearts and generous spirits behind each byline.

I got back to Chicago just over a week ago from the Jones and Kumar-led extravaganza in Connecticut, but the events and lore of the visit already feel a dream. I’m convinced New England is not a real place—that the Disney-like hub for culture workers exists as its own alternate reality. The O’Neill hosts annual festivals of new work in a variety of forms, but this isn’t the only magical oasis in the area. We as critics also got to visit Jacob’s Pillow, Williamstown Theatre Festival, and more companies that marry picturesque nature with innovative art.

My only concern starting out as a participating writer? My inner bestie called “imposter syndrome” berated me as I packed and prepared. My background lies primarily in playwriting, poetry, and acting, and I hadn’t considered myself a journalist. I wondered how my writing would fit within a group of experienced critics. That quickly had to change.

As insecurities plagued my mind at the airport, the resonance of a warm, familiar British voice stopped me. I turned around to take in the icon himself (though he would insist, “No one is iconic”). Chris Jones beamed as we boarded, discussing the theatre in the Windy City and laughing upon realizing that (surprise!) we were seated side-by-side on the plane.

Our first session overlooked crystalline Connecticut waters, indistinguishable from the floors of heaven. My eyes welled reading everyone’s first assignments, appreciating each distinct voice, replete with strategic idiosyncrasies and tonal command. You couldn’t compare one piece with another in such a setting: We all brought something different to the table even when writing about the same topic. Over the two weeks, my voice became synonymous with emotive poeticism, while others became known for their biting snark or seductive rhythm.

Each day we’d engage with a play, musical, dance performance, movie, or meal, then review it. This often meant we’d start writing around midnight and rush to make a morning deadline, in time for a session with illustrious guest instructors, many of whom have won Pulitzers and write across genres. Jones shared that his intention with the intensive schedule is to push writers within a safe environment to their limits—but not beyond.

I trusted my style and process more with each day, banishing adverbs and adjusting structure to “bob along.” Once time and space to judge myself dissolved, I had to confront my joy again. Gone were the hours of staring at a blank page or completed piece wondering if my voice was good enough. With minor sleep deprivation, I reacquainted myself with the craft of culture writing—and fell in intoxicating love.

This value of the O’Neill Theater Center cannot be overstated, as it enables writers to unplug from their fast-paced industries and recenter themselves in craft. We must uplift more oases like it, wherein creatives can meet and challenge one another, strive, fail, and experiment afresh. The absence of the public’s critical eye, I was told by playwrights and critics alike, empowered them to get into the weeds of their work and take exciting risks. Writers here need not fear donor opinions or harassment on social media.

My intersection of artist and journalist supported the critics group in connecting with the wider creative community at the O’Neill. Across the two weeks we discussed a hope for more mutual kindness and support between readership and journalists, artists and critics, and folks even within those communities. We found tense but respectful disagreement among critics, for instance, when it came to generational divides. These aren’t new points of contention, but I crave more widespread respect and candor in complicated conversations around the balancing act between solidarity and alienation, joining together and challenging.

There’s a person, not just an institution, behind every byline. I hope more people can grant grace and recognize that individuals’ coverage constitutes an essential piece of our culture puzzle. Arts journalism contextualizes that we didn’t just fall out of coconut trees, connecting us with higher purpose and creatives across centuries.

Writing is often a solitary activity, but these two weeks extracted the vibrancy of each writer as each laughed, cried, and waxed poetic. The scenes reminded me of my childhood obsession with quantum entanglement. As a writer took notes, a butterfly would float by. One New England restaurant played bossa nova music from my native Brazil. I was miles from home yet felt such belonging and so cared for, catching myself in a chorus of critical joy. I blurted mid-laugh, “Life can be so beautiful.”

Processing the anatomies of connection can generate quieter moments too. We realized again and again that we’d read one another’s bylines, already meeting in our intimate solitude. Outdoors and mosquito-ravaged, I’d remember the ancestral mechanics of connection in the choreography at Jacob’s Pillow, where ballerinas from the U.K.’s Royal Ballet seemed to transcend mountains.

You’re never truly alone when engaging with art, seeking to understand others’ critical opinions and collective, lyrical longings. Sitting by Jones and Kumar, lifelong advocates for our form, you draw your pen. Notice there’s a spiritual extension through your fingertips to the ether. When dancers crane their necks you gasp. There’s a pillow in the human shoulder, you recall, designed for another person’s head. 

Now See This

It would be easy to put The Lord of the Rings: A Musical Tale in this spot. An adaption of the famed J.R.R. Tolkien books, featuring book and lyrics by Shaun McKenna and Matthew Warchus, and music by A.R. Rahman, Värttinä, and Christopher Nightingale, running at Chicago Shakes? Easy choice (and you can head here to view a video preview of that show).

But there’s a quieter new “musical play” making waves in the city I’d like to highlight here instead. The Last Wide Open is receiving its world premiere right now at American Blues Theater (through Aug. 18). Written by Audrey Cefaly, with music by Matthew M. Nielsen, the show asks what would happen if you found the right person but the timing was off not once, but three times. This love story between a worn-out waitress and an immigrant dishwasher ventures to show audiences “the mystical ways the universe conspires to bring us all together.”

Around town

This month, Jerald catches us up on a few items you may have missed!

With us switching things up this month, I get the pleasure of bringing you some of the work of my colleagues across the industry as they cover theatre in Chicago. 

• I wrote a bit about my experience at TCG’s national conference here in Chicago in last week’s newsletter, but our coverage didn’t stop there. You can head to our 2024 conference coverage page to check out additional reflections from Gabriela and Rising Leaders of Color Amanda L. Andrei and afrikah selah.
• As part of our Summer 2024 issue, I wrote about Girls on Sand, a new musical produced by Wisconsin’s Northern Sky Theater, with books and lyrics by Lachrisa Grandberry and Molly Rhode and music by Alissa Rhode. The story is based on their real-life friendship and the fact that, as Grandberry notes, a lot of people escape to Door County, Wisc., “to find joy, to refuel themselves and enjoy themselves at the same time.”
• Also for American Theatre, theatremakers Arti Ishak, Aycan Akçamete, and Yasmin Zacaria Mikhaiel penned a message to the theatre industry about the importance of implementing identity-conscious practices when telling the stories of Southwest Asian and North African (SWANA, the decolonial term for the Middle East/MENA) people. “As theatrical practices are starting to shift post-Covid lockdown,” they write, “it is becoming more clear that casting anyone who ‘passes’ as SWANA actually deepens the pipeline problem used to justify the miscasting practice and pushes SWANA actors out of the industry, creating a never-ending cycle of misrepresentation.”
• In case you missed it, TCG has announced two new co-leaders, with a search for a third underway to complete the company’s new co-leadership structure. LaTeshia Ellerson will serve as co-executive director: national engagement, and longtime director of TCG grantmaking and international programs Emilya Cachapero will serve as co-executive director: national and global programming.
• For the Chicago Sun-Times, Stefano Esposito journeys with Drury Lane Theatre props designer Cassy Schillo as she searches for the “perfect piece.” Esposito’s dive into Schillo’s search for props highlights exactly why she describes herself “as part detective, mechanic, artist, and, yes, artful haggler,” as Esposito writes.
• Esposito also wrote for the Sun-Times about the life-size bronze sculpture of Lorraine Hansberry finally making its way home to Chicago. Hansberry was born on the South Side of Chicago, her home designated a Chicago landmark in 2010, so it’s only right that the sculpture commemorating the legacy of the Chicagoan playwright and civil rights leader, which has been on a national tour since 2022, will be permanently housed on Chicago’s Navy Pier starting Aug. 23.
• A third Sun-Times piece from Esposito offers a reminder of the challenges of producing outdoor theatre during the summer. Venturing to Oak Park Festival Theatre, sirens, thunder, and “dive-bombing cicadas” are just a few more hurdles for Romeo and Juliet to overcome.
• WBEZ’s Courtney Kueppers covers a new study from Enrich Chicago that shows “a shifting landscape” for non-white arts groups that had been bolstered by Covid relief money. Enrich Chicago director Nina Sánchez tells Kueppers that they have “already been hearing that the increased investment in diverse arts organizations is starting to go away.”
• WBEZ’s Mike Davis offers a trio of previews for shows going up around the Chicago area:
  • First, a look into the work of turning John Berendt’s Southern Gothic novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil into a stage musical, featuring a creative team of Jason Robert Brown (music and lyrics), Taylor Mac (book), Tanya Birl-Torres (choreography), and Rob Ashford (direction).
  • Next he explores the real culinary skills that went into the Writers Theatre production of Katori Hall’s The Hot Wing King.
  • Finally, he dives into the tricky undertaking that is Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s U.S. premiere of the musical adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, which includes Ben Mathew, as Pippin, engaging in battle scenes with his cello strapped around his neck. “It’s one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever seen,” music director Michael McBride told Davis.
• Over at the Chicago Reader, Kerry Reid’s recent Ghost Light columns include a remembrance of Jonathan Wilson, the longtime director and Loyola theatre professor who died on June 23, and a look at Uptown Music Theater’s production of Les Misérables, produced with special permission from Cameron Mackintosh, with proceeds from the show go toward benefitting the Highland Park Shooting Recovery Fund.
• Also in the Reader, Annie Howard covers the journey of The F*ggots and Their Fr*ends Between R*volutions, an adaptation of the 1977 Larry Mitchell book, with illustrations by Ned Asta, receiving its second run at Bramble Arts Loft. “The book shows that there’s another, queer way to be, and it was inherently theatrical, and it was really exciting,” director and playwright Jack Bowes tells Howard.
• For the Chicago Tribune, Chris Jones pens a column on a production and new theatre set to boost downtown Aurora, Ill., chats with Laurie Metcalf about being back onstage at Steppenwolf, and announces Chicago as the premiere location for a Broadway-hopeful musical about Muhammad Ali.

Chicago Chisme

Every month, Jerald and Gabriela check in with Chicago/Midwest theatre artists about what’s getting them out of bed in the morning and keeping them up at night. This summer we’re traveling, reflecting, and continuing to dream big. More below from David Rhee, founding artistic director of Token Theatre Chicago and co-writer of new play Zac Efron, and Eileen Doan, actor and instrumentalist currently in the U.S. premiere of the musical adaptation of The Lord of the Rings  at Chicago Shakes (through Sept. 1).

If you could create theatre in any city, state, or country other than your own, where would you go?

David: Seoul, Korea. They’re making the most interesting, avant-garde work right now. 

Eileen: I started duolingo-ing French when the pandemic started (and I have a 1,293-day streak), so I have a little dream of wanting to do a play in French in France.

Who is a mentor that has helped you in your career journey so far? What’s the best piece of advice they’ve given you?

David: Suzan-Lori Parks. If everyone is getting along during the creative process you’ll usually come up with something mediocre. Great art comes from the tension and the disagreements in the rehearsal room.

Eileen: I’ve had the fantastic luck of working with several amazing people who encourage me to value myself and my heart before the work. They teach me by example that having the bravery and trust to be and bring your full self to your life and art are the only things that are going to give you what you’re looking for.

Shoot your shot. What artist or company are you dreaming of working with, or what show are you dreaming of working on? 

David: I’ve done it all, Broadway, major theatre houses across the country, etc. I am working at my dream company, Token Theatre. We have a seat at the table to call the shots and give voice to Asian Amerians on the American theatre stage. That has always been the dream and now it’s a reality. 

Eileen: It’s been a dream since the beginning of my career to work at Portland Center Stage because of the cool work that they do. Locally, First Floor has been killing it and I’d love to work there someday. As for a dream show? Currently doing it. I get to reach into every facet of my artistic self to bring Merry and LOTR to life.