It’s been a busy month! We buried 2023 and 2024 is now empirically in play for the rest of us! Janna’s new sites — ASL Opera and Jannauary.com — are both now live, as is the new — Boles.ai — website that not only predicts future history but also lives in the present past; but I am most supremely pleased to announce the dramatic return of: The United Stage!

UnitedStage.com

I believe in the power of the word and the power of the Playwright. Art, all, always, begins with someone recording a thought for others to share. That’s the job of the author. That is the mission of the Playwright. The United Stage has been a lifelong project. I even tried to get the idea to be my thesis project at Columbia University in the City of New York —

October 17, 1989: United Stage Manifesto

— but I was turned down; the program wanted me to work on Broadway instead, and so I did.

The rise of the internet in the mid-1990s gave liquidity to an online consortium of like-minded people, and I had a great response from the Playwright community for the idea of a United Stage. I launched a United Stage blog (that was folded into Boles Blogs) and the great UnitedStage.com website that lived over a decade on the internet until I had to move website hosts and that website was lost in the fog of war!

When UnitedStage.com was offline, I received many offers to purchase the domain — and since I always planned to bring it back, in force, I silently declined all those offers — only to be told by the hopeful purchasers that, “I wasn’t using the domain, so I had to sell it to them.” I never replied to any purchase inquiry. There was no need. They just chatted with themselves.

And so, here we are today! With the rise of AI, and AI voice, and AI script writing, the Playwright can now, once again, be in complete charge, and control, of the wonder, and vision, of the world! We can, with the aid of AI, now write, direct, produce, cast, and stage our own dramatic works! As I’ve said before, my best collaborator now is my AI Bot! That self-sustaining performance is the way it used to be 40 years ago in Nebraska. You wanted to “put on a show” – well, you were all on your own, and you did it all yourself. And I did!

Moving to New York City for graduate school training in theatre changed all that. In New York, you have a limited role as a Playwright, and you are told, every day, “don’t touch that!” and “the show you wrote no longer belongs to you” — and it’s all done under the cruel veil of “being a team player” and “collaborator.” I actually worked with a university director who told me that the first thing he does when he reads a new play is to “cross out” every stage direction on the page that the Playwright wrote, because “the Playwright doesn’t understand what the play is really about.”

What a condemnation!

You expect us to collaborate with THAT?!

Well, my friend, AI changes all that. Now we are, once again, Playwrights embedded into our own work, and we can, finally, and once again, own our own work by being our own work.

What’s real, and what’s imagined, is no longer a difference.

If you’re new to this idea of Playwrights directing their own work, here’s some institutional background that might help you understand the mission at stake — the Playwright  vision that must always be realized, even if it is wrong! We learn by doing. We become better Artists by overcoming our acknowledged, and identified, deficits. We get there through experience, and by embracing failure.

The historical timeline of Playwrights directing their own plays is a testament to the intrinsic link between the creation and interpretation of a play. This tradition, rooted in the origins of theater itself, validates the necessity of a Playwright’s direct involvement in directing their work.

Let’s begin in Ancient Greece, the cradle of Western drama. Here, Playwrights like Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides were not mere writers; they were integral to the staging of their plays. They understood the nuances of their work better than anyone else. The Playwright was the director, the visionary who brought their intricate narratives and profound characters to life. This complete control over their creations ensured that the plays were presented as envisioned.

Moving forward to the Elizabethan era, we witness the same pattern. Shakespeare, arguably the most influential Playwright in history, was deeply involved in the production of his plays. He was an actor and a shareholder in the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, which later became the King’s Men. This intimate involvement with the theater gave him an unparalleled understanding of how his plays should be performed. The Bard knew his characters’ every nuance, every emotion – something a separate director could not possibly fathom with equal depth.

In the 17th and 18th centuries, Playwrights like Molière in France continued this tradition. Molière not only wrote his plays but also directed and acted in them. His understanding of his works’ comedic timing and character dynamics was intrinsic to their success. He knew the rhythm, the pacing, and how to extract the most humor and pathos from each scene.

The 20th century saw a shift, with the rise of the director as a separate entity, but this does not negate the value of Playwrights directing their plays. Consider the works of Bertolt Brecht, who not only wrote but also directed most of his plays, implementing his theories of Epic Theatre. His active direction ensured that the plays were true to his vision of causing the audience to think critically, rather than getting lost in emotional identification.

In contemporary times, the need for Playwrights to direct their works is even more pressing. The modern theater has become multifaceted and complex. The Playwright’s voice, therefore, is crucial in navigating these complexities. When a Playwright directs their play, they ensure that the heart of the play beats in sync with its performance. They bring an understanding of the text’s subtleties, nuances, and intentions that a separate director might overlook or misinterpret.

The argument that only the director understands the meaning and structure of a play undermines the Playwright’s role. It suggests that the creation of a play is somehow separate from its execution, which is a fundamentally flawed notion. The Playwright conceives the characters, the dialogue, the setting, and the narrative – they are the architects of the world being brought to life on stage. To suggest that someone else could better understand this world is to undervalue the Playwright’s role.

The historical precedence and the intrinsic understanding a Playwright has of their work make a compelling case for why Playwrights can and must direct their own plays. This practice ensures that the vision, the voice, and the nuances of the play are accurately and effectively conveyed, maintaining the integrity of the original work. The notion that a separate director is better equipped to interpret a play is a modern contrivance that disregards the deep connection between a Playwright and their creation.

And now, just to put a hardtop on this ripe idea, this is what my AI Playwright collaborator Bot had to say about the fresh era idea of AI making the Playwright in charge of the stage, once again: