The title of your play, The Top Ten People of the Millennium Sing Their Favorite Schubert Lieder, speaks for itself. Or does it? Tell us a little bit more about what the play is about.
Well, the play is largely what the title suggests: a salon in which a few of the greatest minds of the last 1000 years have gathered to sing the songs of Schubert. But only four of the top ten show up. These four end up passing the time with spirited debate, some romance, lots of wine, loads of music, and some down and dirty wrestling.
Why Biography's “Top Ten People of the Millennium”? And why Schubert lieder?
When I saw the Biography Channel's television program presenting their list of the top 100 people of the last millennium, it was too tempting not to put some of these folks in a play with each other. And I thought it would be great to have the characters themselves question the choices made on the list -- Galileo, for example, is concerned by the under representation of females and minorities on the list.
As far as Schubert goes, in the previous incarnation of the show, the characters actually sang Kurt Weill songs. But we lost the battle to obtain the rights to the Weill catalogue. So I had to look elsewhere for musical inspiration, and Schubert was a natural choice for me, as I'd grown up with it played around the house. And it ended up being a great development, because the script then became informed by this rich fantastic world of the Romantic era in which Schubert lived.
What's your take on Biography's list, anyway? Do you agree with it?
Ahh, that's for the characters to battle out. I prefer to remain behind the scenes on that one. . . .
Like many of the other authors in this year's anthology, you have a diverse educational background: you received your Bachelor's degree from Duke in both Drama and German Studies. What made you choose both majors?
Well, a drama major was something of a given for me, considering I had been doing nothing but theater since the 5th grade. German took a little bit longer to come to. I had studied a few years of German before college, and then spent a semester abroad in Berlin. I couldn't stand how crazy German theater was, and by "couldn't stand it" I mean I COULD stand it. I could stand it for a long, long time. The theaters there took such wild risks. You never knew what was going to happen next when you went to see a show. And so it all came together, and German ended up being a perfect minor for me.
From there you received a Certificate in Physical Studies from the International Theatre School Jacques Lecoq in Paris. What led you there? And for our readers who don't know who he is, would you tell us a little about Jacques Lecoq?
Jacques Lecoq was a Frenchman frustrated by the naturalistic stagings that ruled his theater-going experiences, so in the 1950's he began exploring how to recapture theater that existed in an actor's body, as opposed to theater existing only in an actor's head, a psychological theater. He founded a school that examined commedia dell'arte, clowning, Greek tragedy, acrobatics, etc. in an effort to resurrect a "physical theater," reintroducing spectacle and magic. He died a few years back, but the school continues to be a breeding ground for ensemble-based physical theater.
You've mentioned two playwrights in particular as important influences for you, Charles Mee and the French writer Michel Azama. How have they each made an impact on you?
Well, I was a director in New York a few years back and took a workshop with Charles Mee. He changed it all for me. He gave me the tools to start writing. His pedagogical approach was to convince us that anyone can write, and by write, he meant steal. Steal dialogue from every conversation that you hear or any interview you read. Steal subjects from magazine articles. Steal jokes. He basically convinced us that we could write and not really have to come up with an original word ourselves. That was real appealing to me. And so I started "writing". And over time, the quotes around the word "writing" started to fall away as I began indeed to write original lines and even entire scenes! And of course, Charles was simply using that lesson as an entry point for us, but what an important one for me.
A few years later, while I was at the Lecoq school, I studied with the French playwright Michel Azama. Michel placed such an importance on awakening our sensitivity to the world around us. "You must be like a predator", he would say, imploring us to keep our eyes and ears open as we made our way through the day. It would be a shame, he would say, if we were too lazy in our morning commute to notice that the material for our next play was sitting in the next subway seat. So now when I'm out, I find that I am so intensely looking for that material. On the lookout for the unexpected.
How did you get your start in the theatre?
In second grade, I was a toy soldier in a scene from The Nutcracker at our school. No lines -- just marching across the stage in time to music. I got so freaking psyched to do it. That was when I knew I was in for it.
You also "moonlight" as Theaters Against War's (THAW) resident political songwriter, The Gentle Troubadour. How did you come by that gig? And would you tell us a little more about it, please?
In the run-up to the Iraq war, THAW was formed by a group of incredible New York theater artists. It mainly served as a support group at that time, because it seemed like no one was against the war at that time, except fringe groups and the extra-progressive. Sophia Skiles and others started these monthly evenings called “Freedom Follies,” and I started writing songs for the cause. Songs about Condoleezza Rice, about the Republican National Convention, about poor John Kerry.
What's up next for you?
I'm working on a piece called Dysphoria which has something to do with genetics, disability and the International Space Station. I think there might be some text in Russian. And there might be mice…
Interview with Alec Duffy was conducted by Michael Criscuolo February 2006.