Jessica Davis-Irons
Linus & Alora
A nytheatre voices cyber-interview
Jessica Davis-Irons is Artistic Director and a founder of AndHow! Theater Company. She has directed over 30 of their productions, readings, etc. Jessica is married to playwright Andrew Irons with whom she has collaborated on many productions. Jessica, formerly, was associate artistic director of Adobe Theater Company.
Pictured: Jessica Davis-Irons
You are artistic director and one of the founders of AndHow! Theater Company. Could you tell us a bit about the origins of the company, your co-founders, how you differ from all the other companies, and why "AndHow!"?
As in all great collaborations, Andhow! was waiting to be noticed by the artists who founded it. After several years of collaborating on various new works that embrace magical realism, I — Jessica Davis (now Davis-Irons), Andrew Irons, Clayton Dowty and Margie Stokley sat in a coffee shop in the fall of 2000 and formally realized Andhow!. Clayton, Andrew and I all went to Skidmore together. Andrew and I were in love. Clayton and I were roommates. Margie was introduced to me by Kelly Van Zile (also a Skidmore Grad). It was pretty much love at first sight. We were rehearsing a short play called Subscriptions by Laurie Sales for the Turnip Theater Festival (this is more than 10 years ago). Andy, Clayton, and Margie were all in it. I remember going home with Andrew and saying, “You have a crush on Margie, I know you do. It’s okay.” And Andrew replied, “Um, no, but you do.” And the world kept moving. After September 11, we did a reading series called Beginning The American Spirit where we asked playwrights to write the beginning of a play, and the audience to tell us what the ends could be. Out of that was born our next two big productions — I am at my best when I am singing very quietly by Brian PJ Cronin and Non-D by Andrew Irons. At my best… was a defining moment for Andhow!, even though we didn’t really know it at the time. That was Arthur Aulisi’s first Andhow! show. Owen Hughes lit it. Danya Haber co-produced it. Then Non-D brought Neal Wilkinson (sets) and Becky Lasky (costumes) in. Jill BC DuBoff designed the second ever Andhow! show, Spacegrrls in 2001. I can’t remember exactly when, but she asked me if she could be in the company. She’s always been there. She’ll always be there. The following summer we did Elephant by Margie Stokley. All three of these productions happened over the summer at the Ontological. Our time at the Ontological was precious. We were there before the official Incubator series was implemented, but it was exactly that, an incubator for Andhow!, we learned what our aesthetic was; why we as a company need to exist. I think our Play Development Process is the heart of that need. We tend to focus on what is right with a play, rather than what is wrong with it. We also get involved in a play's life VERY early on, and look to work with playwrights who want to play with Andhow!. We never learned to give our playwrights parameters like cast size must be "X” or “unit set needed.” We tend to embrace the impossible, like “one million tooth picks rain down from the stage and the walls reveal that the theater is made of piano keys.” Because our plays are born organically, we don’t really fit into a genre. Is our work experimental? Yes. It plays with form, has spectacular events on stage, deals with fantastical or unreal worlds that have their own rules that we make up. Is our work traditionally dramatic? Yes. We deal very much with real relationships (not necessarily realistic, but certainly real), and while we play with form, we are deeply tied to the wonder of storytelling. This can be very tricky when marketing. Like when you have to check off a box telling the listings people what genre you are and I want to check drama, comedy, experimental, multimedia, dance, musical.
Andhow! has grown into a place that is simultaneously safe enough for playwrights to listen to collaborators and daring enough that they can write with abandon. And despite my insistence that the company gathers around the art, that the art is not the result of community, we have grown into a family. And the family changes and grows. Now Arthur is the Associate Artistic Director, and Danya is the Literary Manager. In the last two years Brendan Kennedy and Kelly Shaffer joined our staff as Associate Producer and Development Director respectively. Margie laughs that we are the only company who says “I love you” to each other. But we do love each other. And we have a shorthand that is pretty remarkable, and we continue to challenge each other. And sometimes we even fight. We actually had to learn how to fight with each other. Or rather “heatedly discuss.” The nice thing is that the majority of the company has been around for at least 5 years. So we know that if we argue, it’s not the end of the world.
OK, why the name “Andhow!”, um…well…When Andrew and I moved in together a long long time ago, we really wanted a dog. We couldn’t have one. So we made up imaginary dogs: Et Al, Etcetera, As well, and Andhow!. EtAl and Etcetera both seemed a little too highbrow for us, “as well” sounds like asshole if you say it too fast. Basically it was a process of elimination. With our imaginary dogs. It turns out that the name fits. We are enthusiastic like “Andhow!.” We are also ironic like “Andhow!” and sometimes it’s more like “Andhow?!? the hell are we going to do that.
The company is going to be 'in residence' at the Flea the month of September. How did the Flea and AndHow! get together and what does "in residence" mean?
I directed a play called The Director by Barbara Cassidy last year at the Flea. It was a really great experience. I really fell in love with the BATS, and especially with the staff of the Flea. Jim Simpson is tough, and smart, and a very forthright Artistic Director. He makes no bones about what he expects, what he likes, and what he doesn’t like. And why. In all of my freelance work, I have never been so collaborative with the Artistic Director. It was really great, and hard, and great. And then there’s Carol Ostrow, the producing director, who really has it right: she knows producing is an art unto itself. If I could I would steal her away (she wouldn’t let me, she’s way too committed and tough) I would do it in a heartbeat. All of her producing comes from an artistic point of view. That’s not to say she’s not a very savvy business woman — there’s no doubt she’s tops. But she’s a rare find in that she could produce anywhere and she loves downtown, independent theater and interesting, non-traditional theatrical voices — and she makes those voices heard.
At some point during The Director process, sort of off the cuff, Carol said, Andhow! should be in residence sometime at the Flea. And last fall I called her and asked her if we could be. She said yes. What play? I gave her a bunch of plays. She said no to them. She had good reasons, and while I like those plays a lot, and we continue to develop all of them — they weren’t ready, or right for the Flea. And I needed to be told that. And then a week or so later I gave her a very very very early draft of Linus & Alora, by Andrew Irons. She read it and called me and I went in to meet with her. And then she said “Yes — the play has a lot of work to be done on it, Jessica, you know that..but this is good.” And I flew out of the Flea office on cloud nine.
That’s what being in residence means: we get advice. Someone other than me sometimes says no, or that’s not a good idea or That’s a great idea. It means that I mine the minds of the Flea Staff for everything I can, and that’s a lot. I can call Sherri Kronfeld (the audience and marketing development director ) and say what do you think of this postcard? I can call Beth Dembrow the General Manager and ask her for help. I can ask questions to a pretty successful team. This is invaluable to the artistic director of a small company. The Andhow! buck stops with me — it always has — if we choose to produce a play at the wrong point in its lifecycle, ultimately the fault is mine. That hasn’t changed, but to be able to talk to Carol Ostrow about the buck before it stops is a gift. It makes the producing end of things a lot less scary, which allows me to concentrate on the play. Which I love. So I consider us pretty lucky.
At the Flea during September will be Andrew Irons' play Linus & Alora. What's the play about and how will being at the Flea be a different experience than past productions?
Linus and Alora is about the healing power of the creative mind. It’s about parallels between birth and death. It’s about true love and sacrifice. It’s about illness. Most of all it’s about imagination. What is real? You sit in a theater and watch a play and the story and characters come alive. Was that real? It’s part of you now. So yeah. It’s about a whole bunch of stuff, but mostly this couple, Linus and Alora and Alora’s overactive imagination and Linus’s underactive imagination.
Our last couple of shows we have literally built a house on stage — beautiful houses — I would live in any of them. However we got a little caught up in the design of things, and because our short-hand as a company is so, well, short, we can do amazing things that look like they are on Broadway on a tiny tiny budget. But our focus seemed to be shifting towards creating a complete world rather than leaving some of the world up to the audience’s imagination. Luckily, the Flea really isn’t a space you would want to build a whole house in — it’s its own world. So the set will be simpler. However, Andrew has been watching our use of video over the last few years, and sort of fell in love with Dustin our video and scenic designer for Linus & Alora. As the play developed, it became pretty clear Andrew understood how video could be used in a visceral sense — that he wanted to use imagery that wasn’t environmental or literal, but part of a journey into the minds and memories of Linus & Alora. And he wrote for Dustin, because Andy loves Dustin. Let’s just hope Dustin still loves him after completing the crazy challenges Andrew has created.
You are directing a play that your husband wrote. Does this fact make directing easier or more difficult and do you bring your work home?
I have a few special playwrights with whom I have “serious relationships.” And I love directing their work. But there is nothing more delicious to me than directing an Andrew Irons play. His view of the world is strange and sweet and sad and ugly and non-linear and wondrous. And he comes up with the weirdest shit, that ends up being really beautiful. Is it harder? It’s different. I’m more comfortable saying let’s cut this, change this, add a scene, how about a song? to Andrew than I am with anyone else. (Although I think over the years I have gotten closer to that comfort level with other playwrights). Andrew is more comfortable saying yes and saying no to me. So there’s a certain level of polite behavior that is thrown out the window. I think the rest of the company follows our lead on Andrew plays. And the rest of the company is involved earlier in the process, like 10 pages into the process, because Andrew really trusts the minds of the company members and he listens really well to the world around him. He hears Everything. And then he picks and chooses.
I used to bring my work home. But there is a near three year-old (Jacob) running around the house building full cities in the kitchen, pretending to be Banjo the Dinosaur who takes trips to IKEA. So Andrew and I tend to communicate like any other playwright/director team. Email.
Jacob does understand theater. And asks questions like “Where’s mommy?” “At rehearsal.” “Is Melle there too?” (Jacob is in love with Melle Powers who plays Alora) “Yes” “Is Melle an actor?” “Yes” “and Arthur’s an actor?” “Yes” “And Owen is an Actor?” “No, Owen is a designer. Remember when we looked up at the lights in the air at St. Ann’s, and I told you that Owen makes the lights magic, he’s a designer.” “Like Project Runway?” “….”
Is the arrangement you have with the Flea one you would like to pursue again with them or another company and why?
Yes. Partnering with and being mentored by people who know more than you or who have strengths you don’t is smart. And good for the company. Working within other company’s parameters stretches our imaginations. That makes our company grow artistically.
What other plans does AndHow! have?
Dialogue (our reading series) will happen on September 15 & 16 at the Flea. We are still choosing plays. We will present Steven by Margie Stokley again in October with A.R.T./New York. We have workshops of a whole lot of plays, another reading series in February. And Fly Me To The Loon by Arthur Aulisi in December. More on that very very soon.
August 14, 2008
