Here's a wee tale about how hard it can be to get a play done in Miami. Even if you're talking "just" a staged reading. Even if one of the artists you're talking about happens to be one of the hottest young playwrights in the United States.
Tarell McCraney, Marco Ramirez and Lucas Leyva are all Miami-connected playwrights, all friends. The three proposed something called the Skunk Ape Project (the name, McCraney says, was Leyva's idea) to the previous management regime at Miami's Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts. Nothing elaborate, just the three getting staged readings of their work in the Arsht's 200-seat Carnival Studio Theater in early March.
McCraney, who got his master's in play-writing from Yale University last spring, has spent this season flying all over the country (and to London) to watch productions of his plays at numerous top-tier theaters -- Seattle Repertory Theatre, Atlanta's Alliance Theatre, London's Young Vic, Manhattan's Public Theater, to name just four. He planned to do The Brothers Size as his Skunk Ape contribution, bringing in a couple of the actors who had appeared in the Public Theater production that helped ignite such buzz about McCraney's talent. Then, stuff happened. Or didn't happen.
Top administrators at the Arsht changed. There was talk of folding the Skunk Ape Project into Miami Light Project's annual Here & Now Festival -- not as one of the fully produced works in the Carnival Studio Theater, but as readings presented in a classroom or a lobby. McCraney's schedule got complicated: He had to be at the Tony Award-winning McCarter Theatre at Princeton for a workshop of his Brother/Sister Plays (In the Red and Brown Water, The Brothers Size and Marcus; or The Secret of Sweet), which the McCarter will world premiere as a trilogy from mid-April to mid-June of 2009. And he also went to the Olivier Awards ceremony, where The Brothers Size was up for an award. (It lost -- but still.)
Ramirez, who says the three agreed to "...postpone the Arsht/Skunk Ape collaboration indefinitely, which probably means it will never happen," is as frustrated as McCraney and Leyva. He said that once word of the project got out, 90 people asked about coming to the event in the 200-seat Studio Theater.
"If we've learned anything from this, it's that new play readings happen at regional theaters -- GableStage, New Theatre, Mad Cat -- and not at gigantic performing arts venues," Ramirez wrote in an E-mail.
McCraney, who has been back in Miami lately teaching a spring play-writing course at the New World School of the Arts (his high school alma mater), is plenty frustrated too: "We had to let go of this dream to begin a new works showcase for playwrights in Miami. For now."
Finally, a couple of questions. Why is it that audiences in large theaters all over the country are getting to savor the early work of a thrilling writer who seems destined for a major career, yet he can't get a play read in his hometown? Why aren't Miami theaters fighting to produce his work? If the Coconut Grove Playhouse was open and operating like a major regional theater should, McCraney should be its hottest "find."
Instead, he'll get the trilogy done at the McCarter, another new play (Wig/Out) done at London's Royal Court Theatre and a New York theater, two of the Brother/Sister Plays done at the Young Vic. He also may become international writer in residence at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and have a fellowship at Princeton. Ramirez and Leyva are both looking at grad schools. And the Skunk Ape Project has become as mythical as, well, a skunk ape.
That, folks, is really theater of the absurd.