Twin Towers uses fighting, music and dance to illustrate the relationships between the characters. Its much more interesting that way! Here is a scene from Tap with Gregory Hines that inspired the Tango scene in Twin Towers. In Tap, the characters are clearly in love. In Twin Towers, things aren't that simple. Put Tap on your Netflix que if you haven't seen it already.
a play by Damian Wampler, directed by Angela Astle
Best friends, separated by choice, reunited by fate.
Starts Friday, June 12 for 6 shows at the Robert Moss Theater, 440 Lafayette.
Showtimes: Friday, June 12, 5:30pm,
Sunday, June 14, 9:00pm
Wednesday, June 17, 4:00pm
Thursday, June 18, 4:00pm
Friday, June 19, 7:30pm
Sunday, June 28, 1:00pm
Tickets are $18 at http://www.planetconnectionsfestivity.com/
Starts Friday, June 12 for 6 shows at the Robert Moss Theater, 440 Lafayette.
Showtimes: Friday, June 12, 5:30pm,
Sunday, June 14, 9:00pm
Wednesday, June 17, 4:00pm
Thursday, June 18, 4:00pm
Friday, June 19, 7:30pm
Sunday, June 28, 1:00pm
Tickets are $18 at http://www.planetconnectionsfestivity.com/
Showing posts with label The Beginning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Beginning. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Thoughts
As you may know, I'm a full time photography student at the School of Visual Arts studying digital photography. What drew me to the program was the potential for images to draw in a large audience, regardless of their language skill or education level. With internet technology, images with emotional impact can circle the globe in seconds.
Photography is a means, not an end. In one of our readings, Sebastian Salgado says, "Photography can change absolutely nothing; the most that it can hope for is to show that some things ought to be changed." Is that not true of any art? Do we not face this in our every day lives? How oft
en do we want our friends to not make that really bad choice, to have our parents act differently, for our government to be moral and proactive. And what can we do about it, except express ourselves any way we can, maybe provide an alternative, a few words that offer hope or an alternative way of living. We, as Epictitus stressed in his Manual for Living, must know what we can change and what we can not. We must change what we can, and not worry about that which is out of our reach.
The only conflict lies in that we never know what is truly beyond our reach. If we determine that something is out of our control, we may simply write it off and never try to bring about change. And that writing off may limit ourselves to a narrow, pedestrian existence. And at this point we return to art, or perhaps simply expression, a targeted one, takig into account that which we would like to change and providing an alternative through a kind word, some advice, an image, a story, a song, a play, a film. However you can bring your vision of a better life into this world, you must do so, never knowing what impact it may have on others. Like a stone thrown into a pond, we will never know how far the ripples extend. So, to Salgado, photography can change absolutely nothing, but a vision of the way things ought to be can change absolutely everything.
Photography is a means, not an end. In one of our readings, Sebastian Salgado says, "Photography can change absolutely nothing; the most that it can hope for is to show that some things ought to be changed." Is that not true of any art? Do we not face this in our every day lives? How oft
en do we want our friends to not make that really bad choice, to have our parents act differently, for our government to be moral and proactive. And what can we do about it, except express ourselves any way we can, maybe provide an alternative, a few words that offer hope or an alternative way of living. We, as Epictitus stressed in his Manual for Living, must know what we can change and what we can not. We must change what we can, and not worry about that which is out of our reach.The only conflict lies in that we never know what is truly beyond our reach. If we determine that something is out of our control, we may simply write it off and never try to bring about change. And that writing off may limit ourselves to a narrow, pedestrian existence. And at this point we return to art, or perhaps simply expression, a targeted one, takig into account that which we would like to change and providing an alternative through a kind word, some advice, an image, a story, a song, a play, a film. However you can bring your vision of a better life into this world, you must do so, never knowing what impact it may have on others. Like a stone thrown into a pond, we will never know how far the ripples extend. So, to Salgado, photography can change absolutely nothing, but a vision of the way things ought to be can change absolutely everything.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Freedom
I was talking to James about my play, and mixed in between the subtle criticism and the overt hatred of a very weak second draft came a statement: make sure you know what your play is really about. And that remains the question: what is Twin Towers really about? Two childhood friends meeting up? Life in the Bronx? The psychology of an Iraq war veteran?
Today I'll have to say that Twin Towers is about freedom, and about what freedom does to one who is balanced and one who is not. Freedom can release one man and ruin another. Bondage can suffocate one man and keep another from falling to pieces. I'd like to explore freedom as a concept, and about different types of boundaries and bondage. Leave a comment if you have an experience to share. The philosophy of freedom is vast, and so is the depth of human experience about this topic. Please, join in!
Today I'll have to say that Twin Towers is about freedom, and about what freedom does to one who is balanced and one who is not. Freedom can release one man and ruin another. Bondage can suffocate one man and keep another from falling to pieces. I'd like to explore freedom as a concept, and about different types of boundaries and bondage. Leave a comment if you have an experience to share. The philosophy of freedom is vast, and so is the depth of human experience about this topic. Please, join in!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Canceled Stamps
Throughout the play we are reminded that Trevor, the Iraq war veteran, grew up without parents. Raised by his grandmother Esther, Trevor never knew his father and was abandoned by his mother as well. Esther took him in and raised him, making up for her failure as a mother by being a mother to Trevor.
In early versions of the play, Trevor's mother and father simply weren't there. But is that realistic? Do people vanish into thin air? And even if they are gone, aren't they still really there somehow, in our minds or perhaps our hearts? I began to reflect on my own life and the lives of my friends and found that there are always signs of life, we simply have to know how to read them. What got my attention is my friend Kristin's blog, Canceled Stamps. It reminded me instantly of the letters and postcards my parents always sent me from all over the world. Postcards I threw away, she kept. I've known Kristin since grade school, so it is ironic that her blog has influenced the final version of my play about friends from grade school meeting up. After reading her blog I understood a little bit more about her and about myself, and added elements from her/our lives into Trevor's character. Now Trevor's mother is always in the background as Esther finds letters and postcards throughout her house. On tables, shelves, drawers, Esther keeps finding them and giving them to Trevor.
"Your mother isn’t good at a lot of things, but at least she writes." says Esther in act one.
But Trevor avoids them, discards them and ultimately tears them to pieces. Not only do we have to read the signs but we have to accept them- for what they are. I won't go into detail about Canceled Stamps - check it out for yourself, quite amazing.
In early versions of the play, Trevor's mother and father simply weren't there. But is that realistic? Do people vanish into thin air? And even if they are gone, aren't they still really there somehow, in our minds or perhaps our hearts? I began to reflect on my own life and the lives of my friends and found that there are always signs of life, we simply have to know how to read them. What got my attention is my friend Kristin's blog, Canceled Stamps. It reminded me instantly of the letters and postcards my parents always sent me from all over the world. Postcards I threw away, she kept. I've known Kristin since grade school, so it is ironic that her blog has influenced the final version of my play about friends from grade school meeting up. After reading her blog I understood a little bit more about her and about myself, and added elements from her/our lives into Trevor's character. Now Trevor's mother is always in the background as Esther finds letters and postcards throughout her house. On tables, shelves, drawers, Esther keeps finding them and giving them to Trevor.
"Your mother isn’t good at a lot of things, but at least she writes." says Esther in act one.
But Trevor avoids them, discards them and ultimately tears them to pieces. Not only do we have to read the signs but we have to accept them- for what they are. I won't go into detail about Canceled Stamps - check it out for yourself, quite amazing.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Inspiration
Although Twin Towers is highly autobiographical, personal and original in concept, there are number of books and movies that inspired me along the way. Here is a summary, enjoy!
Undoubtedly one source of inspiration comes from my favorite author, Herman Hesse. The play contains some structural elements of his famous novel Narcissus and Goldmund while it clearly contains a reference to the Magic Theater from Steppenwolf.
In Twin Towers I pay tribute to the film Tap staring Gregory Hines. My dance scene is a combination of the introductory jail scene where the main character taps to natural rhythms, and the Fred Astaire-esque rooftop scene.
I also borrow from the fun 80’s flick The Warriors, which uses New York City as a backdrop for an unlikely crew of colorful gangs. Where else would I have gotten the Brazilian street thugs from! TRAILER
While I don’t directly steal from any of Romero’s zombie movies, I was guided by his philosophy on film making that I read in two articles, one in the Onion and the other in the Village Voice. Romero says, "I have this device, or conceit, where something happens in the world and I can say, 'Ooo, I'll talk about that—and I can throw zombies in it!" I took this advice to heart and tell a powerful emotional and political tale while having fun at the same time. Although I have to admit that my zombie scene ends up looking more like something from Thriller.
I was conscious of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s final speech (played by Ewan McGregor) to Anikin in Star Wars Episode III, Revenge of the Sith. Like Revenge of the Sith, Twin Towers tells of two friends divided by good and evil, and one ultimately succumbs to darkness.
OBI-WAN: (continuing) . . . You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would, destroy the Sith, not join them. It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness… You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.
And what about Stop-Loss? I didn't see it until last night, more than a year after I started writing! Oh, my play is better...
Undoubtedly one source of inspiration comes from my favorite author, Herman Hesse. The play contains some structural elements of his famous novel Narcissus and Goldmund while it clearly contains a reference to the Magic Theater from Steppenwolf.
In Twin Towers I pay tribute to the film Tap staring Gregory Hines. My dance scene is a combination of the introductory jail scene where the main character taps to natural rhythms, and the Fred Astaire-esque rooftop scene.
I also borrow from the fun 80’s flick The Warriors, which uses New York City as a backdrop for an unlikely crew of colorful gangs. Where else would I have gotten the Brazilian street thugs from! TRAILER
While I don’t directly steal from any of Romero’s zombie movies, I was guided by his philosophy on film making that I read in two articles, one in the Onion and the other in the Village Voice. Romero says, "I have this device, or conceit, where something happens in the world and I can say, 'Ooo, I'll talk about that—and I can throw zombies in it!" I took this advice to heart and tell a powerful emotional and political tale while having fun at the same time. Although I have to admit that my zombie scene ends up looking more like something from Thriller.
I was conscious of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s final speech (played by Ewan McGregor) to Anikin in Star Wars Episode III, Revenge of the Sith. Like Revenge of the Sith, Twin Towers tells of two friends divided by good and evil, and one ultimately succumbs to darkness.
OBI-WAN: (continuing) . . . You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would, destroy the Sith, not join them. It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness… You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.
And what about Stop-Loss? I didn't see it until last night, more than a year after I started writing! Oh, my play is better...
Monday, August 4, 2008
Capoeira
Dance is a theme that flows throughout Twin Towers. The two types of dance we see are Argentine Tango and Capoeira. Trevor, our main character, is a master at both. In Act one we learn that the foundation of his relationship with Olivia Walker was forged through Tango. Their personal intimacy is brought about, or perhaps upstaged, by the physical aspect of their relationship. As the play goes on we find that Trevor is unable to voice much of what he feels, and he needs a physical element to any emotion in order for it to reach the surface.
The fundamental root of Trevor’s dilemma is the inability to differentiate between what Erich Fromm calls brotherly love and erotic love. What happens when a man loves a woman is natural. But what happens when a man loves another man? What happens when a man who has lived a life of violence finally feels the need to express love? What happens when one who has never received love finally decided to try to give it? It is awkward, confusing and ultimately disappointing for someone who doesn’t know the difference between the two types of live.
These are the fundamental dilemmas that face Trevor as he returns home from the war. In wartime he was fluid, comfortable, supreme. In peace, he is lost, impotent and frustrated. His only refuge is to take violence, the only thing he knows, and use that as a love force: hence, Capoeira. Capoeira is a blend of martial art, game and dance brought from Africa by slaves and developed in Brazil. This unique dance is a vehicle for developing the relationship between Trevor and Jamal, underlying how the two characters are sometimes in harmony and at other times in conflict. Capoeira blurs the line between dancing and fighting and serves as a metaphor for the grey area between friendship and intimacy.
In Capoeira, Trevor can do physically what he is unable to say – enter into intimate contact with another human being. But the fuzzyness of Capoeira remains – “is it a dance or is it a fight?” Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.
I myself was introduced to Capoeira when I volunteered at a community center in the South Bronx through New York Cares (You may have seen it in video games or the film Only the Strong). I helped teach Capoiera to the kids there and learned a little myself. I then went to take one lesson with the teacher and learned the fundamentals. Capoeira’s beauty is that is once was a fully developed martial art that became what it is today because of the oppression of slavery. Violence became dance out of necessity. We can only hope that dance never reverts back to violence.
The fundamental root of Trevor’s dilemma is the inability to differentiate between what Erich Fromm calls brotherly love and erotic love. What happens when a man loves a woman is natural. But what happens when a man loves another man? What happens when a man who has lived a life of violence finally feels the need to express love? What happens when one who has never received love finally decided to try to give it? It is awkward, confusing and ultimately disappointing for someone who doesn’t know the difference between the two types of live.
These are the fundamental dilemmas that face Trevor as he returns home from the war. In wartime he was fluid, comfortable, supreme. In peace, he is lost, impotent and frustrated. His only refuge is to take violence, the only thing he knows, and use that as a love force: hence, Capoeira. Capoeira is a blend of martial art, game and dance brought from Africa by slaves and developed in Brazil. This unique dance is a vehicle for developing the relationship between Trevor and Jamal, underlying how the two characters are sometimes in harmony and at other times in conflict. Capoeira blurs the line between dancing and fighting and serves as a metaphor for the grey area between friendship and intimacy.
In Capoeira, Trevor can do physically what he is unable to say – enter into intimate contact with another human being. But the fuzzyness of Capoeira remains – “is it a dance or is it a fight?” Sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.
I myself was introduced to Capoeira when I volunteered at a community center in the South Bronx through New York Cares (You may have seen it in video games or the film Only the Strong). I helped teach Capoiera to the kids there and learned a little myself. I then went to take one lesson with the teacher and learned the fundamentals. Capoeira’s beauty is that is once was a fully developed martial art that became what it is today because of the oppression of slavery. Violence became dance out of necessity. We can only hope that dance never reverts back to violence.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The First Reading
On Saturday, 4 strangers met to read my play out loud in the basement of a bar in the West Village. I am fortunate to live in a city where people are so enthusiastic about theater that they would do a cold reading for a stranger on a beautiful sunny afternoon. Thank you all for helping me and for your honest feedback at the end.A reading is critical. I was able to see who had too many lines, which characters vanished for too long, and what lines provokes laughs and smiles. It got my wheels turning, and I am thinking about how what changes to make. How did it read? Well, my first impression is that the bold second act obscures the mundane first act, making the whole piece feel stronger than it really is. What does this mean? With a little tinkering, I can make a good script into a great one. I don't have any overwhelming structural changes to make, just a few tweaks here and there. One of the readers said that it had a finished feel to it. I hope so, I've been working on it for a year! But it still needs more work to find a balance between the two main characters from the title, and to focus the emphasis on the transformation that is taking place within Jamal.
The most important question to come out of the reading was, "Why hip-hop?" And indeed, why an all black or mostly black cast? The play is about war, about pregnancy out of wedlock, about guns and gangs and displaced families. Our soldiers in Iraq aren't pulled from the white middle class suburbs, they come from the streets of the poorest neighborhoods. Our pop music and our dance also comes from the streets. Out problems and our richness come from these streets. In "Gangs of New York" they say America was born in the streets. I say it still is. I was thinking of Romeo and Juliet when I decided to place the play in the Bronx. Verona for the English was a mythical, bawdy, violent and lusty place. The Bronx, for us, conjures many of the same images, from "The Bronx is Burning" to "A Bronx Tale" to "Rumble in the Bronx", it is a place in our mind that stirs up heat, blood and asphalt. Quite simply, this play couldn't happen anywhere else.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Subway

Several scenes in “Twin Towers” take place in the subway. The subway is a fascinating world – it is the one place in New York City where there is a real sense of community. If the train breaks down, we are all in it together. And when a stinky bum gets on your car, you better believe we are all in it together!
I met up with a subway performer, Heidi Burger, and began to photograph her and other platform artists for a book she is writing called the Subway Diaries, soon to be published. I actively sought out subway performers and befriended some of them, and in this process I learned how close knit and inclusive these people are. I watched as drummers and singers jockeyed for position to get the sweetest spots on the subway. I met a ballet dancer, a man who plays the saw and a magician who performs on the car itself. I’ve seen them yell at one another when their music overlaps, each claiming seniority. And I’ve seen unbelievable acts of kindness and compassion, a rare sight above ground!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
More on the play…
The sounds of the street were the greatest inspiration for me to write this play, and since writing ‘Twin Towers” characters from my play appear before my eyes every day.
For example, last week on Eastern Parkway I saw a young man in a military uniform talking to his buddies on the front steps of his apartment. It reminded me of the opening scene of Twin Towers in an early version of the script, and made me think of how relevant my work is. The American soldiers in Iraq are drawn from the poorest neighborhoods, lured by the opportunity to ‘gain skills’ and make money.
Another night, I observed a Christian fundamentalist and a young entrepreneur argue on the 4 train all the way from Bowling Green to Franklin Avenue in Crown Heights. The business man wore a grey suit and bow tie, politely but fiercely shooting jibes and comments at his opponent. The evangelical held an oversized bible in his hand and quoted the scriptures for every retort. The entire platform was involved, and as we moved into the car the argument continued. I was sure a fight was going to break out on several occasions!
It is moments like this that created the basis for “Twin Towers”, which is actually set in the Bronx. And each day as I see more and more moments like this I am reminded that my play is relevant, real, raw and alive.
For example, last week on Eastern Parkway I saw a young man in a military uniform talking to his buddies on the front steps of his apartment. It reminded me of the opening scene of Twin Towers in an early version of the script, and made me think of how relevant my work is. The American soldiers in Iraq are drawn from the poorest neighborhoods, lured by the opportunity to ‘gain skills’ and make money.
Another night, I observed a Christian fundamentalist and a young entrepreneur argue on the 4 train all the way from Bowling Green to Franklin Avenue in Crown Heights. The business man wore a grey suit and bow tie, politely but fiercely shooting jibes and comments at his opponent. The evangelical held an oversized bible in his hand and quoted the scriptures for every retort. The entire platform was involved, and as we moved into the car the argument continued. I was sure a fight was going to break out on several occasions!
It is moments like this that created the basis for “Twin Towers”, which is actually set in the Bronx. And each day as I see more and more moments like this I am reminded that my play is relevant, real, raw and alive.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Reading
Welcome to my Twin Towers Blog. This is where it all begins- a cold reading in a dark room in New York.
This play began when I moved to New York two years ago. I had written and produced two plays in college but hadn't written anything since - until I arrived here. What better place to write and produce my play than here.
The words didn't come easily. I wanted to write something personal, something unique, something powerful. But living in Park Slope, there was little to inspire me. Then, 8 months later, I moved to Crown Heights, and Twin Towers began. Crown Heights has been called 'crime ridden', 'dangerous' and even 'volatile', but never boring. The streets here are alive with passion and vitality. What began as an exercise, writing down the conversations I overheard on Eastern Parkway, transformed into a story of a confused post 9/11 New York.
In the spring of 2007 I met up with an old high school friend Matthew Anderson and we took a road trip from Portland, Oregon to South Carolina, ending up eventually in Washington DC. Along the way I met with many old friends and realized two things - how similar we were, and how much we had grown apart. Matt had joined the Coast Guard, and many of my friends whom I met on that trip had just gotten back from one or two tours in Iraq. I, on the other hand, had just gotten back from several years living abroad teaching English and doing research, first with the Peace Corps and then on a Fulbright grant. We all had intense cross-cultural experiences in Muslim countries, but our perspective was fundamentally different because of the manner in which we chose to travel there. Thus my two main characters, Trevor and Jamal, were born. Two men from the same streets who both wanted the same things - travel, adventure, culture, but got it in different ways. The question is - if the methods of understanding yourself and your planet differ, can two people still find a common ground?
The play is all but done, and now I'm looking for some young enthusiastic actors to read it out load so I can do a final rewrite. From that we'll begin casting and then production. And from there? Who knows....
This play began when I moved to New York two years ago. I had written and produced two plays in college but hadn't written anything since - until I arrived here. What better place to write and produce my play than here.
The words didn't come easily. I wanted to write something personal, something unique, something powerful. But living in Park Slope, there was little to inspire me. Then, 8 months later, I moved to Crown Heights, and Twin Towers began. Crown Heights has been called 'crime ridden', 'dangerous' and even 'volatile', but never boring. The streets here are alive with passion and vitality. What began as an exercise, writing down the conversations I overheard on Eastern Parkway, transformed into a story of a confused post 9/11 New York.
In the spring of 2007 I met up with an old high school friend Matthew Anderson and we took a road trip from Portland, Oregon to South Carolina, ending up eventually in Washington DC. Along the way I met with many old friends and realized two things - how similar we were, and how much we had grown apart. Matt had joined the Coast Guard, and many of my friends whom I met on that trip had just gotten back from one or two tours in Iraq. I, on the other hand, had just gotten back from several years living abroad teaching English and doing research, first with the Peace Corps and then on a Fulbright grant. We all had intense cross-cultural experiences in Muslim countries, but our perspective was fundamentally different because of the manner in which we chose to travel there. Thus my two main characters, Trevor and Jamal, were born. Two men from the same streets who both wanted the same things - travel, adventure, culture, but got it in different ways. The question is - if the methods of understanding yourself and your planet differ, can two people still find a common ground?
The play is all but done, and now I'm looking for some young enthusiastic actors to read it out load so I can do a final rewrite. From that we'll begin casting and then production. And from there? Who knows....
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