Today marks the halfway mark in the fundraising campaign for The Sustainable Theater Program! It’s been pretty surreal to see how much people really believe in the project.

Where we are now:

The IndieGoGo campaign just reached $1,817! Did you hear that? That’s me screaming like a toddler with excitement.

I am talking with Pearl Art Supplies and some friends at the corporate offices of Mitsubishi about material donations like paper, paint, notebooks etc. If you feel inclined to make material donations please contact me.

I’ve been compiling feedback from educators with expertise in the type of work I’m doing, which will play an integral part in the curriculum development.

What next?

I imagine that this small workshop project can grow from a one-time program, to a satellite program that can be repeated and expanded to reach other students in areas that lack sufficient arts programming.

I also would like the work the kids write to be archived in the body of modern theater. In many ways, people respect written word more than they do the idea of a performance. Getting this work published as a playscript that can be read and re-performed as a way of creating the theater world I want to see.

There’s still 13 days left to meet the financial goal. If you are even half as excited as I am about this project, tell a friend.

Also, I’ve added some photos of the students and the Lakou Culutral Center. This is where I will be teaching the program this summer. I am so excited to supplement some of the artistic projects they’ve been for the past two summers.

The mural honors those who died in the 2010 earthquake.

The name of the center represents the community. It’s name, “Lakou Cultural Center” A cultural center is a center that refers to the culture. It relates to the culture of Haitians.…it helps the people develop their skills, showing them to be someone tomorrow. They will hear things that will be good for their lives. - “Jean", Student

With Love & Gratitude,
Shelah

An update on how the fundraising campaign is going. 19 days left!

Check out the first video update that will chronicle my experience in creating a Sustainable Theater Workshop in Haiti.

In this video I’ll be talking about:

• Why I decided to do this workshop?
• How I put it together?
• And the next steps now that I have the green light.

Enjoy!

Shelah

Over the course of four weeks, I took the hour-and-a-half trek to the ends of the earth (almost to Coney Island) to work with this awesome group of students. This particular class was a theater elective class with a mixed 9^th and 10^th grade group. I created a curriculum around the Broadway show Once, that they saw half way through the residency.

I didn’t have a lot of time with them, so I wanted to work quickly to give them an assignment that would a). Validate their creative writing, b). Give them something tangible to walk away with and c). explore elements of musical theater writing.

So I gave them an assignment in three steps:

Step One: After reading the selected scene from Once, please create a two person scene addressing the theme of love.

• Each character must have four lines
• Scene must have A-B dialogue

Step Two: Using the following model, “Once I ____________, then I will ____________” please fill in four lines of the poem.

Step Three: Get with a partner and share your dialogue and poem. Combine the pieces of dialogue and poetry that you both enjoy to create a hybrid piece that has four lines of spoken dialogue and then four lines of poetry.

So they ended up with something like this:

DIALOGUE

 MOM: I’m sick of you thinking you know everything!

DAUGHTER: I know enough to know that I can’t wait to get out of here.

MOM: Well good, then you will see how tough it is out there.

DAUGHTER: I don’t care, I’m going to make it.

POETRY

Once I graduate high school, then I will really be on my own.

Once I’m on my own, then I will be in control of my own life.

Once I have the control, then life will be exactly how I want it.

Once I’m there, then I will really be happy.

After they had that, I was very lucky to bring in an amazing musician, Cassandra Kubinski, to come turn the student’s writing into a song in the style of the show Once.

She made magic in 45 minutes.

*Sorry for the crappy video quality. Blame it on my EVO.

My first day in NYC, I sat across from a photographer at a cafe. He snapped my photo, here it is.

I’m blindfolded.

“Ok, carefully step forward. Watch your right foot. You’re going to take three steps forward.”

Holding my hands and gently leading me through the darkness is my boyfriend. He’s instructed me to get ready for a night out. I got all decked out, I used my expensive hair products, I put on eye liner and I even bust out my “boob” dress.

Toldja.

“SURPRISE!”

I open my eyes. I’m at one of my best friend’s houses. My ENTIRE support system is there. All my close girlfriends (most I’ve known since elementary school), my brothers, my sisters, even my 2 year-old nephew is there chillin’ on the floor with his Cars sippy cup. Everyone who means something to me is there. My friends coordinated a theme of deep red, black and gold. They’re all dressed like it’s the Oscars. Someone has written a beautiful farewell message to me on the mirror portion of Melissa’s wall. There’s a divine chocolate cake — and I do mean divine because I’m a 1%er of the cake tasting world. Cake snob for life, yo.

"Farewell, Shelah."

Food, drinks, my best bud from high school even brought out his professional DJ equipment. I looked around at all the people that have contributed to my person-hood. Whether it was Nick and Omar’s unrelenting teasing that calloused me stop crying so much in public (I guess that’s helpful when I bomb an audition) or Karla’s unending kindness that keeps me going when I’m on my last dollar and feeling like a complete failure or lovely boyfriend who has encouraged me every step of the way. I looked around and realized…

I’m leaving this all behind. In a few days I will cash in my one-way ticket into LaGuardia airport and really take a stab at this whole being an artist thing.

Cut to me sitting in empty, overpriced, un-airconditioned dorm room in Greenwich Village. I’d packed away my few belongings. Ate a PB&J. People watched. And then I cried. I cried for many days. I didn’t make friends. I didn’t know what to do. I was mourning the loss of the comforts of my former life, suffering from the unbearable NYC heat wave, coping with not having very much money at all and to top it off —  starting a really frickin’ hard graduate program.

I’d go to the library for the free A/C and sit somewhere in the corner and watch Teen Mom on my laptop. I’m so cool, right?

It was hard. Harder than I’d ever imagined. There is a specific energy in NYC that’s almost like double dutch. It’s that moment where someone is waiting to jump in and just watches the ropes go up and down, up and down, up and down. They watch and wait for the best moment to jump in so they don’t hit the ropes and ruin the whole operation. Well, I wasn’t making the jump. Everyone’s just whizing by you doing this and doing that — and I felt like I was just watching. And waiting. I wanted in on some of that energy.

Summer passed, I thanked the Gods for cooler weather. Enjoyed my very first winter – EVER. Then, I started meeting some friends, getting involved in some experimental performances and some interesting teaching work. One year later, at end of the program, I was still the scared, insecure-ish dreamer but a bit different. The work I put into my thesis set me up for some pretty nice teaching gigs post-grad. I could teach part-time and spend the rest of my day creating and performing.

Graduation from NYU, May 16, 2011

I spent the next year teaching and performing here and there, but still not really going for exactly what I wanted to be doing. By the end of summer 2011, I was beyond frustrated with the work I was doing, as I felt I’d outgrown some of it, I was overwhelmed by the heat of summer — again — (see pic) and not being able to book anything. But there was no way I was going back home.

The temperature inside my apartment. Yeah. (July 22, 2011)

One serendipitous day, I got an email from a parent requesting a drama tutor for their child. Me? Uh…yeah…yeah I can do that! I was unsure of myself but I took this opportunity to flex my freelancing muscles. I ended up working for the most amazing family and tutoring the sweetest, most dedicated little girl ever. Over the course of several months I prepared for an audition into Mark Twain Middle School. I’d prepared her with three monologues, cold reading skills and choreographed a two-minute dance piece.

Her trophy I had custom made to reward her hard work. (February 2012)

Hell yeah.

Now, I’ve taken specific action to build a business around the the skills I already have, and doing the things I already like to do. I’ve stopped taking teaching residencies I don’t want, I’m only involved in work that excites me ( mostly), I have an amazing apartment, I’ve written and directed my first play, I am financially thriving,  I perform regularly, I dance regularly, I train vocally and I actively pursue the kinds of roles I want to perform. I plan to phase out working for agencies to support myself financially in the next 6 months, submit my play to a few festivals, and host another performance night at my apartment. I’m not saying these things to brag or do some artificial ego scaffolding.

What I am doing most directly is talking to myself. I’m talking to the terrified, overwhelmed, depressed girl who moved to NYC almost two-years ago.

I’d like to end this post by revisiting some of my worst fears I had a month before leaving for NYC.

• FEAR #1: What if I look like an airport idiot?

I didn’t. In fact, a friend of mine heard about what I was doing and paid for me to have a personal driver pick me up from the airport and drop at the doorstep pf my dorm — just because he wanted to help.

• FEAR#2: Aren’t New Yorkers supposed to be the nastiest people on earth? What if they eat my soul?

Well, it turns out people in NYC are just like people in every other place in the world. NYCers are stand off-ish at times, but all that playing hard to get is so worth it. I promise. My roommate teaches high schoolers playwriting when she’s not fighting out against human rights violations in Palestine, another good friend I met up here teaches five year-olds by day and works as an amazing performance artist by night. Another chick writes and records her own music when she’s not acting, I could really keep going. There’s so many people up here, you’re bound to find a solid group you really identify with.

• FEAR 3#: Where will I work out?

Um, first of all. I walk my ass off (no worries, not literally). Second, I have access to many different fresh local produce options and other healthy food choices that I’ve drastically changed the way I eat and live. I’ve been training in modern dance and ballet and I have an affordable personal trainer. Forget working out, I’ve become a more active human being.

• FEAR #4: What if my roommate is messy!?! Y’all just might see me on “Snapped” if that shit happens.

Hey, stuff like that happens. It’s been annoying at times — but at my place now we have a legit (like Excel) cleaning chart and we all rotate cleaning duties. The house is pretty much spotless.

• FEAR #5: I will owe Sallie Mae my first born.

Yeah, that fear was pretty much correct. I owe a shit ton of money. So what? I pay my bills every month and it doesn’t severely impact the way I move through life. Also, there is no way to determine how my life would be different if I hadn’t gone to NYU. No regrets there.

• FEAR#6: How on earth will I style my fro in cold weather?

Not only has my fro thrived chile, it’s grown crazy fast and the winter months have been absolutely no problem for me. I’ve found ways to keep it moisturized and preserve my sexy. Take that, take that. Can’t stop, won’t stop. Bad Boy. #DiddyVoice

• FEAR#7: How will I ever find people to hang out with that are as grounded, real, and as beautiful as my friends?

I already answered this. People up here are awesome.

• FEAR #8: What if I get lost? Not talking street directions here.

Oh, two-year-ago-Shelah. IF you get lost! I actually didn’t get lost in the personal sense. I actually got found. I feel like I’ve been given the tools and space to grow more into the Shelah I’ve always wanted to be. But — I DID get lost in the physical sense…a lot. I spent my first three months crying on the train and asking, “Is this going uptown or downtown?” Good times. Just get a damn smart-phone with GPS and you’re gold. Oh, and don’t take the train anywhere on the weekends. You can do cartwheels to your destination faster.

• FEAR #9: What if I hate NYC and it’s not for me?

Uh, that’s bullshit — but if it was, I would leave. And keep it moving.

• FEAR #10: What if I fail?

But what if I don’t?

Open your eyes.  Hang in there. You can do it. Jump.

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

The Long Hallway hybrid arts event was an amazing affair and I’m glad we did it. We had a bout 60 people in our Crown Heights apartment throughout the course of the three-act show. Some came to watch Daniel Zimbler’s Edwardian short film, some came to witness Noelle’s political theater or my twisted play, and some came for the jam sesh from Ssahha. Either way, it was a social-artistic event that serves as a small testament to the art world I believe can exist. One friend said

I LOVE the way you guys said, “fuck it, we are just going to make a performance space out of what we have” it was perfect and intimate and immediate, I thought it really worked.

I’ve gotten mixed reviews about my playlet I previewed, some of which made me cry in a good way

Thanks for even just trying to say what you said… It’s not like it’s the first time this topic has been written about, but it’s the first time I was in the audience.

And some feedback made me cry in a not so good way and I’ll paraphrase,

It lacked structure and I couldn’t connect with the characters, overall it risked being melodrama.

Rehearsal for "Ordinary Affects" by Shelah Marie

Then I realized that people watch Twilight. A lot. Author Stephanie Meyer’s teenage vampire series has sold over 100 million copies worldwide (according to Wikipedia, yeah I’m a real scholar). I can’t watch it — it makes my eyes bleed and my brain swell. And then in the performance art world, there’s Ann Liv Young, who defecates and drinks her urine on stage sometimes. And a lot of people love her work. She travels all over Europe and the U.S. performing her original works – that people pay for.

Then I happened across an email by financial guru Ramit Sethi who wrote about a magazine called “Short Hair.” Please, disregard the sexist remarks for now. We can talk about that later if you’d like. Sexists are people, too. He writes,

The vast majority of men would agree with me that long hair is hotter than short hair. Yet there are women who have short hair. And although I cannot understand them whatsoever, there is a group that can: A publication called Short Hair. It’s easy to get caught up in trying to appeal to “everyone.” But the tighter your niche is, the more of that audience you will attract. For women with short hair, this is almost as tight of a niche as you can possibly create.

Why am I quoting all this?

Well, I’m mostly coaching myself out of taking any critiques personal, but I also think it’s an important to note that some people are not going to like my work (gasp!). I write in a very visceral, colloquial manner, usually about complex racial themes or dysfunctional families (surprise!). Many people want to eat nails before watching something I would write/direct. But, my work will speak to many people – and that future audience is whom I will focus on. Not saying I am going to write to please them or to attract a specific audience, but I should continue to be realistic about what kind of work I produce and how it can be categorized – and how I can use that to my advantage. Plain and simple. I’m not in the business of convincing folk to like what I do. I’m just going to be honest with myself as a person and an artist — if you’re into that shit, cool. If not, that’s cool too.

Next up is fixing up some narrative and structural issues with my play and expanding it to a one-act. Then, I want to enter it into some one-act festivals around NY and beyond. Also, stay tuned; there may be another Long Hallway in the works for late Spring. Pics and video from TLH to follow.

One final note, I also came across this article that said

The real world doesn’t reward perfectionists, it rewards people who get things done.

So go out there and get ‘er done.

Some photos from my first playlet! Read more about it here.

I’d never written what I considered to be a “play” before now. I never called myself a playwright or a writer. Hell, even after college, I still have trouble with simple syntax and grammar rules. I’d composed scenes, monologues, collections of scenes and short stories – but never anything that I would present as a play.

When I moved into my apartment this September, I fell in love with the space on many levels. An apartment full of artists, cultural diversity, great location, no hipsters, and most of all, the architecture. I don’t know much about architecture – I read over 100 pages of Fountainhead, does that count? Anyway, I’m not technically versed in building structures or anything like that, but I knew there was something very special about this space.

The columns in the dining room frame it so nicely that it almost begs to be used as a stage, the open living room asks for people to fill it, and the long, dramatic hallway is a structural incubator for secrets and stories. At least that’s the way I see it. So, within a few weeks of living there, my roommate Noelle and I decided that we would give the apartment what it wanted.  On December 10^th we are hosting an arts event appropriately titled, “The Long Hallway” at our apartment. It will consist of one short film, a live band playing some jazz-ish North African tunes, and two short plays, one of which is mine.

That’s right. I pieced together a bunch of writing I had in nameless journals and turned it into a playlet that runs about 20 minutes. It’s an intensely personal piece and I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to feel when it actually goes up in front of a bunch of people, but that’s all part of it. For me, this event is about creating the theater world I want to see. If the theater you want to see isn’t valued or perpetuated in mainstream outlets, make it yourself. It’s not a perfectly polished masterpiece, but it is an honest, well-crafted experiment in what you can do with stories, memories and people on a stage.

I hope you join me.

ordinary affects, written & directed by shelah marie

Love,

Shelah Marie

Playwright. Director. Artist.

PS. Here’s an interview we did with HER CIRCLE Magazine about the show!

PSS. Watch some rehearsal footage!