I saw someone in the mirror yesterday morning as I was getting ready for a very long day.
It was the woman I want to be.
She is strong, confident, with a quiet power that doesn’t need to shout out, “look at me! See how amazing I am! Acknowledge how amazing I am!” She doesn’t need that because she knows who she is and what she is capable of.
She is mature in the best way. Knows she doesn’t have to prove her maturity by meeting others’ expectations. Knows she shows her maturity by pursuing what she wants and accomplishing her goals without compromise. She has the kind of maturity that allows her to laugh outrageously and not be embarrassed about it and play rigorously, knowing it doesn’t make her any less mature.
She is on the verge of beauty. Not the kind of beauty bought in a department store or the kind of beauty that comes out of an expensive jar with an unpronounceable name. But the kind of beauty that comes from deep inside. It’s not the kind of beauty that can be taught or bought. It’s beauty that comes from knowing who you are, what you want and knowing that you’re on the path to achieving what you want. The beauty that comes from peace of mind, from confidence in self, from letting go of fear and embracing life.
She caught my eye in the mirror, looking elegant and strong, watching me back through the glass. Her eyes were full of the knowledge I seek and level with the confidence I fake. Her eyes studied me for a moment, like looking backwards at her own progression. Her eyes and mine are the same but I saw, in that moment, where I could be.
Then she slowly faded away and I was left there, staring at my own reflection. But, for a change, I wasn’t critical of what I saw looking back at me. I saw the potential for who I could be, if I just stay on my path, if I just keep doing what I love and keep true to myself. If I stop using everyone else’s yardstick to measure myself against and just trust in the sound of my own voice. If I just trust that woman in the mirror and follow her example. Eventually, that woman looking back at me will truly be my own reflection.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Becoming Susan
I was talking to someone last night after “Gross Indecency”, discussing my vision for the show and why I chose to stage it the way I did. All very positive, all very wonderful.
And she asked me a simple question, something about where I got my vision and how impressed she was at my commitment to my vision. And somehow, we it seemed appropriate to say that this was why I had changed my life just over four years ago, to be able to be true to my vision. And it hit me in that moment, this play is the culmination of why I changed my life.
I read this play probably six years ago, when I was just beginning to direct at the Ark. I immediately put it on my list of plays I wanted to direct eventually.
When I started working on “Lloyd’s Prayer” at the Ark (one of my favorite all time pieces I have ever done still to this day), I started aggressively pursuing “Gross Indecency”. The rights apparently were not available, although I’m not entirely sure how aggressively the rights were being pursued on my behalf. I saw this play in my head, one particular moment especially, and never quite let it go. I was a baby director back then, just really beginning to find my way as a creative entity. “Lloyd’s Prayer” was the first time I looked at what was happening on stage and thought, that’s because of me. I made that. It was also the first production that my ex was truly not a part of. He didn’t attend rehearsals, he wasn’t producing it with me. It was mine, all mine. And he hated every minute of it. For the first time, I didn’t really care.
We were in therapy then, trying to save our marriage. I told him in therapy that I just needed him to be by my side, to be able to say, yes, I think she’s great and she’s done a great job, without bringing himself into the equation, without any qualifiers as to what I had done, without making it about him. That’s all I asked. Be supportive. Be my husband. Don’t be an asshole.
Opening night of “Lloyd’s Prayer”, he sat in the audience and said nothing. After the show, he gave me perfunctory appreciation and then literally sat in the house during the after-party, not at my side, because he simply couldn’t just be my husband, couldn’t just be supportive and couldn’t just say, wow, you did a great job. Instead, Carlos, my lead actor, and Chairman, who was such a dear friend at the time, and Peter were the ones at my side, singing my praises, telling me what a great job I had done. The supposed partner in my life, the supposed person who was supposed to be my rock, my love, my life chose to sit this one out.
Since then, I have grown as a director. I have done things I am so very proud of - “Afterplay” was one of my favorite because of the opportunity to give Chairman a beautiful role he would normally not be offered and his performance still warms my heart; “The Change-Up” short film because it was my truest Tarantino moment as a director and it placed top 5 on Famecast.com and I got to go to Austin to represent it; “Juche Rules” which won last year’s USC MPW one act playwriting festival, such a triumph because this was the third one I had directed and the previous two should have won; and, capping it off, “Mastermind”, another one of those very special productions that touched me in ways I can’t even begin to describe and the sentimental favorite at Hurricane Season one act festival this year.
“Gross Indecency” is the capper of my growth as a director. I feel like I went from a toddler to maturity in a matter of four short years. I could have never directed “Gross” without doing “Lloyd’s” and “Afterplay” and even the god-awful “Godislav”, possibly my least favorite production ever. I learned so much from each of those shows that led me to be able to tackle this scary, challenging and very difficult show.
But the biggest element that has led me to this success is the lack of my ex in my life. His ability to diminish me, his ability to make me question everything I did and everything I thought robbed me of my ability to create without him. I thought I knew nothing. I thought I was an amateur, a hack and that I could never do anything without him there to tell me what to do and make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.
“Lloyd’s” showed me I could create without him. And I don’t think I’ve looked back since.
One of the things I wonder about and ponder on the dark days is the fact that I feel like I had to choose my creative life over having a personal life. I miss having that partner, as fucked up as our partnership was. I did learn a lot from him, despite his inability to let me fly on my own. I miss having someone to sit with and discuss my thoughts and my choices and my concerns and my fears. I think that’s why I enjoyed coffee with Justin so much a week or so ago. It felt like talking to someone close, having a partner to share my thoughts, my feelings with.
Sometimes, in those dark, cold, empty days, I wonder if I chose correctly. Should I have stayed in my abusive marriage, tried to fix it, tried to make him see how he was hurting me, try to find ways to cope and re-configure our relationship so that I could stay with him and still live the life I wanted to live? Should I have just sucked it up and stayed with him so I wouldn’t be alone, I wouldn’t be just existing from production to production with no one in my life in between? Should I have made it work so that I wouldn’t be alone for the rest of my life?
On the dark days, I think, yes, I should have. Having a great show doesn’t make up for more than four years of life alone every single night. Having a great show doesn’t make up for not having someone there opening night, kissing me and beaming at me. Yes, he could do that for me - usually when he could take credit for something on the show. But maybe that was worth the sacrifice, give up some of my credit and accolades to have someone there for me. Creative freedom for an empty life, what kind of a trade-off is that?
It’s the best kind of trade off. This whole process with “Gross Indecency”, from committing to some very controversial choices such as casting Kerr as Oscar Wilde to the way I’ve staged it and going without a curtain call, has been very scary. Kerr has been a great partner in producing this and a great friend along the way. He trusted me, he trusted my vision, he trusts that I know what I’m doing and just gets out of the way. He’s there when I need him and not there when I don’t. He treats me with respect and treats me like a professional, something I am really not used to.
When the reviews started coming out, it was weird to see my name and see praise for what I had done. And there was no voice telling me that they were wrong, that I had somehow still done a bad job. There was no one telling me that maybe I should really look at the critical reviews and learning from them, which I do anyway. There was no one there to make me feel bad about my success and trying to take away any joy that I was getting from this moment in time of success.
And last night, while talking to this woman, who said she just wanted to meet the person who had such an incredible vision for this show, I realized that that person was me.
This production is the culmination of the two sides of my life finally coming together. Yes, I’m alone and that’s not likely to change soon. I’m a powerful, creative, successful, determined woman, which is attractive to men from the outside but most men don’t want to live with that. And I don’t want to be with anybody who can’t handle my success and my creative life. So if that means I’m alone, then I’m alone.
And I realized last night, for the first time in just over four years, that alone is just fine for now. Because by being alone, I’ve been able to shape my vision, sharpen my creative teeth and learned to trust those voices in my head that are not clowns, but are the creative muses who live there, whispering to me in the best and worst nights.
So if the trade-off means that I don’t have a date Saturday night and that I sit at home and watch “Snatch” on my 52” TV by myself or with my roomie, but I get to create things I am truly proud of and truly own, whether it’s a film or a play or a painting, then that’s the trade-off I’ll take. My heart is lonely and still in pieces but at least there isn’t somebody trying to hack it apart every time it starts to come together. And I have to trust that when and if someone special comes into my life, they will fill out my life, not try to take it away from me. They will know who I am and that will be what attracts them and they will become a part of my life, not make me fit into theirs.
And if it means that I get to create these amazing shows like “Lloyd’s” and “Juche” and “Change-Up” and “Mastermind” and “Gross” and get to step back and be proud of what I do, then it is absolutely worth the empty, lonely nights without someone. The pleasure and the joy and the pure sense of worth that I get when I step back and watch something I’ve created come together so strongly, so perfectly, is worth every moment on the couch by myself.
And I realized that last night, in talking to this woman, that I wouldn’t be here if I had not chosen to leave my life behind to find my new one. This show is the last of things to come back into my life that I tried to do in my old life and now its fruition maybe marks the true beginning of my new life. All the old debts are paid, all the leftover remnants are gone. After this, it’s all new, it’s all fresh, it’s all pure.
And it’s all mine.
And she asked me a simple question, something about where I got my vision and how impressed she was at my commitment to my vision. And somehow, we it seemed appropriate to say that this was why I had changed my life just over four years ago, to be able to be true to my vision. And it hit me in that moment, this play is the culmination of why I changed my life.
I read this play probably six years ago, when I was just beginning to direct at the Ark. I immediately put it on my list of plays I wanted to direct eventually.
When I started working on “Lloyd’s Prayer” at the Ark (one of my favorite all time pieces I have ever done still to this day), I started aggressively pursuing “Gross Indecency”. The rights apparently were not available, although I’m not entirely sure how aggressively the rights were being pursued on my behalf. I saw this play in my head, one particular moment especially, and never quite let it go. I was a baby director back then, just really beginning to find my way as a creative entity. “Lloyd’s Prayer” was the first time I looked at what was happening on stage and thought, that’s because of me. I made that. It was also the first production that my ex was truly not a part of. He didn’t attend rehearsals, he wasn’t producing it with me. It was mine, all mine. And he hated every minute of it. For the first time, I didn’t really care.
We were in therapy then, trying to save our marriage. I told him in therapy that I just needed him to be by my side, to be able to say, yes, I think she’s great and she’s done a great job, without bringing himself into the equation, without any qualifiers as to what I had done, without making it about him. That’s all I asked. Be supportive. Be my husband. Don’t be an asshole.
Opening night of “Lloyd’s Prayer”, he sat in the audience and said nothing. After the show, he gave me perfunctory appreciation and then literally sat in the house during the after-party, not at my side, because he simply couldn’t just be my husband, couldn’t just be supportive and couldn’t just say, wow, you did a great job. Instead, Carlos, my lead actor, and Chairman, who was such a dear friend at the time, and Peter were the ones at my side, singing my praises, telling me what a great job I had done. The supposed partner in my life, the supposed person who was supposed to be my rock, my love, my life chose to sit this one out.
Since then, I have grown as a director. I have done things I am so very proud of - “Afterplay” was one of my favorite because of the opportunity to give Chairman a beautiful role he would normally not be offered and his performance still warms my heart; “The Change-Up” short film because it was my truest Tarantino moment as a director and it placed top 5 on Famecast.com and I got to go to Austin to represent it; “Juche Rules” which won last year’s USC MPW one act playwriting festival, such a triumph because this was the third one I had directed and the previous two should have won; and, capping it off, “Mastermind”, another one of those very special productions that touched me in ways I can’t even begin to describe and the sentimental favorite at Hurricane Season one act festival this year.
“Gross Indecency” is the capper of my growth as a director. I feel like I went from a toddler to maturity in a matter of four short years. I could have never directed “Gross” without doing “Lloyd’s” and “Afterplay” and even the god-awful “Godislav”, possibly my least favorite production ever. I learned so much from each of those shows that led me to be able to tackle this scary, challenging and very difficult show.
But the biggest element that has led me to this success is the lack of my ex in my life. His ability to diminish me, his ability to make me question everything I did and everything I thought robbed me of my ability to create without him. I thought I knew nothing. I thought I was an amateur, a hack and that I could never do anything without him there to tell me what to do and make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.
“Lloyd’s” showed me I could create without him. And I don’t think I’ve looked back since.
One of the things I wonder about and ponder on the dark days is the fact that I feel like I had to choose my creative life over having a personal life. I miss having that partner, as fucked up as our partnership was. I did learn a lot from him, despite his inability to let me fly on my own. I miss having someone to sit with and discuss my thoughts and my choices and my concerns and my fears. I think that’s why I enjoyed coffee with Justin so much a week or so ago. It felt like talking to someone close, having a partner to share my thoughts, my feelings with.
Sometimes, in those dark, cold, empty days, I wonder if I chose correctly. Should I have stayed in my abusive marriage, tried to fix it, tried to make him see how he was hurting me, try to find ways to cope and re-configure our relationship so that I could stay with him and still live the life I wanted to live? Should I have just sucked it up and stayed with him so I wouldn’t be alone, I wouldn’t be just existing from production to production with no one in my life in between? Should I have made it work so that I wouldn’t be alone for the rest of my life?
On the dark days, I think, yes, I should have. Having a great show doesn’t make up for more than four years of life alone every single night. Having a great show doesn’t make up for not having someone there opening night, kissing me and beaming at me. Yes, he could do that for me - usually when he could take credit for something on the show. But maybe that was worth the sacrifice, give up some of my credit and accolades to have someone there for me. Creative freedom for an empty life, what kind of a trade-off is that?
It’s the best kind of trade off. This whole process with “Gross Indecency”, from committing to some very controversial choices such as casting Kerr as Oscar Wilde to the way I’ve staged it and going without a curtain call, has been very scary. Kerr has been a great partner in producing this and a great friend along the way. He trusted me, he trusted my vision, he trusts that I know what I’m doing and just gets out of the way. He’s there when I need him and not there when I don’t. He treats me with respect and treats me like a professional, something I am really not used to.
When the reviews started coming out, it was weird to see my name and see praise for what I had done. And there was no voice telling me that they were wrong, that I had somehow still done a bad job. There was no one telling me that maybe I should really look at the critical reviews and learning from them, which I do anyway. There was no one there to make me feel bad about my success and trying to take away any joy that I was getting from this moment in time of success.
And last night, while talking to this woman, who said she just wanted to meet the person who had such an incredible vision for this show, I realized that that person was me.
This production is the culmination of the two sides of my life finally coming together. Yes, I’m alone and that’s not likely to change soon. I’m a powerful, creative, successful, determined woman, which is attractive to men from the outside but most men don’t want to live with that. And I don’t want to be with anybody who can’t handle my success and my creative life. So if that means I’m alone, then I’m alone.
And I realized last night, for the first time in just over four years, that alone is just fine for now. Because by being alone, I’ve been able to shape my vision, sharpen my creative teeth and learned to trust those voices in my head that are not clowns, but are the creative muses who live there, whispering to me in the best and worst nights.
So if the trade-off means that I don’t have a date Saturday night and that I sit at home and watch “Snatch” on my 52” TV by myself or with my roomie, but I get to create things I am truly proud of and truly own, whether it’s a film or a play or a painting, then that’s the trade-off I’ll take. My heart is lonely and still in pieces but at least there isn’t somebody trying to hack it apart every time it starts to come together. And I have to trust that when and if someone special comes into my life, they will fill out my life, not try to take it away from me. They will know who I am and that will be what attracts them and they will become a part of my life, not make me fit into theirs.
And if it means that I get to create these amazing shows like “Lloyd’s” and “Juche” and “Change-Up” and “Mastermind” and “Gross” and get to step back and be proud of what I do, then it is absolutely worth the empty, lonely nights without someone. The pleasure and the joy and the pure sense of worth that I get when I step back and watch something I’ve created come together so strongly, so perfectly, is worth every moment on the couch by myself.
And I realized that last night, in talking to this woman, that I wouldn’t be here if I had not chosen to leave my life behind to find my new one. This show is the last of things to come back into my life that I tried to do in my old life and now its fruition maybe marks the true beginning of my new life. All the old debts are paid, all the leftover remnants are gone. After this, it’s all new, it’s all fresh, it’s all pure.
And it’s all mine.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Here's what critics are saying about "Gross Indecency, the Three Trials of Oscar Wilde"
This play has been my primary focus for about five years. I've been trying to put this production together for that long. Now, it's a reality and it's getting great reviews. I am very proud of this show and hope you get to see it if you're in LA. It is the most mature work I have done to date. I have an amazing cast and had a terrific production crew to help build it and a great stage manager, Amanda Peterson, who is half my brain most of the time. Please check it out.
Eclectic Company Theatre
5312 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Noho
Reservations (818) 508-3003
Tickets available at Brown Paper Tickets
Runs thru October 11 - Fri, Sat at 8 PM, Sun at 7 PM
LA Weekly
“Susan Lee directs with brisk, efficient clarity.”
“Darrell Philip and Dean Farrell Bruggeman score as the rival attorneys.”
“The notion of casting women (Casey Kramer, Allie Costa, Beth Ricketson, and JC Henning) as Oscar's "rent boys" seemed initially perverse, but they provide deft characterizations and sly comedy”
Stage Scene LA
“It is powerful indeed to see the broken man Lordygan (as Wilde) has become by play’s end.”
“As Lord Alfred, Grant does lovely, nuanced, deeply felt work.”
“Best of all among the supporting players are the superb Kramer and Henning, who zip in and out of costumes (and accents and gender) to stunning effect.”
“Lee’s direction is inventive, and she has a good visual sense.”
“(Andrew) Hagan is particularly good as the coarse, brutish Queensberry.”
SoCal.com
“Insanely well-cast in their roles were Kerr Seth Lordygan as Oscar Wilde, Joshua Grant as Lord Alfred Douglas and Andrew Hagan as the Marquess of Queensberry, Douglas’s indignant father.”
(Kerr Seth Lorydgan as Oscar Wilde)
“The chemistry between Lordygan and Grant as lovers was just as undeniably convincing as the hatred between Hagan and Grant as father and son.”
Review Plays.com:
“Wilde’s story is gripping and sad and “Gross Indecency” is worth seeing. “
“Wilde, who is brilliantly performed by Kerr Seth Lordygan.”
Edge Los Angeles:
Susan Lee, the director...has successfully managed a moving and involving production of this play with a talented cast capable of cutting to the truth of each character. Her approach seeks to answer the question of who or what dictates morality.
Although Kerr Seth Lorygan doesn’t resemble Wilde, his portrayal in this play is compelling so much so that his persona has you believing all that Wilde encompassed.
This production is worthy of a wonderful presentation that effectively serves Kaufman’s play wonderfully.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Are you lonesome tonight?
Feeling lonely in my tiny, self-centered world today.
I know, I know, I have amazing friends, incredible collaborators, yada, yada, yada.
I had coffee with one of my favorite guys, Justin, yesterday. Justin is an amazing director, a wonderful actor and just a terrific guy. And gorgeous. And makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world when he’s talking to me. Of course, he makes every women feel like that and that’s one of his charms.
We talked on and on about our projects, what we’re working on, what we’re excited about, challenges with what’s going on in our creative lives. I loved having someone to talk to about how scared I am of “Gross Indecency” and how challenging this production has been and to have him understand that and share it with me. And make me feel okay about my fears and not diminish them. And I have others around me who do that so it’s not just that. It was sitting with someone who I enjoy very much and who has a certain connection with me who makes me feel like we’re really talking, really connecting, not just doing the pat on the hand thing.
And I guess today I realize how much I miss having someone special in my life to share things with. The good things, the bad things. To share the fears and feel comforted. I think that’s what it is. Somehow, Justin made me feel comforted, not just -- I really don’t know what the word is I’m looking for.
I miss having someone to just be there, make me feel like I’m not alone in the world. That there is someone who hears me and understands me. Justin’s just a friend - a married friend - so I know it’s not that I think he’s the man for me and all that crap. I think it’s just that he listened to me in a way that not too many people have and it made me miss having someone listen to me that way.
So in the midst of being surrounded by an incredible roommate, good friends and great collaborators on “Gross Indecency”, I sometimes feel like I’m standing all alone in the center of the storm, people swirling around me, activity and motion, but I’m just standing still, alone, naked, scared, empty. And I just want someone to stop for a moment, wrap me in their arms and whisper all the things I want to hear in my ear. Make me feel comforted. Make me feel warm. Just make me feel.
But for now, I have to make myself step into the storm and try to keep up until I can find that person. Or get used to the wind and the noise and continue to try to find comfort in myself.
I know, I know, I have amazing friends, incredible collaborators, yada, yada, yada.
I had coffee with one of my favorite guys, Justin, yesterday. Justin is an amazing director, a wonderful actor and just a terrific guy. And gorgeous. And makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world when he’s talking to me. Of course, he makes every women feel like that and that’s one of his charms.
We talked on and on about our projects, what we’re working on, what we’re excited about, challenges with what’s going on in our creative lives. I loved having someone to talk to about how scared I am of “Gross Indecency” and how challenging this production has been and to have him understand that and share it with me. And make me feel okay about my fears and not diminish them. And I have others around me who do that so it’s not just that. It was sitting with someone who I enjoy very much and who has a certain connection with me who makes me feel like we’re really talking, really connecting, not just doing the pat on the hand thing.
And I guess today I realize how much I miss having someone special in my life to share things with. The good things, the bad things. To share the fears and feel comforted. I think that’s what it is. Somehow, Justin made me feel comforted, not just -- I really don’t know what the word is I’m looking for.
I miss having someone to just be there, make me feel like I’m not alone in the world. That there is someone who hears me and understands me. Justin’s just a friend - a married friend - so I know it’s not that I think he’s the man for me and all that crap. I think it’s just that he listened to me in a way that not too many people have and it made me miss having someone listen to me that way.
So in the midst of being surrounded by an incredible roommate, good friends and great collaborators on “Gross Indecency”, I sometimes feel like I’m standing all alone in the center of the storm, people swirling around me, activity and motion, but I’m just standing still, alone, naked, scared, empty. And I just want someone to stop for a moment, wrap me in their arms and whisper all the things I want to hear in my ear. Make me feel comforted. Make me feel warm. Just make me feel.
But for now, I have to make myself step into the storm and try to keep up until I can find that person. Or get used to the wind and the noise and continue to try to find comfort in myself.
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