The Four Immigrants: Four Mind-Blowing Moments (A Post-Show Reflection)

When The Four Immigrants opened and folks asked me how I was feeling, my response was something like "Great, but also overwhelming. I think I'm going to be processing this incredible ride for months to come." Now that the show is closed, I am confronted with just how mind-blowing this whole experience has been. Those who know me know how much I love lists, because they help me organize my thoughts. So, in no particular order, here is a list of four mind-blowing moments from the TheatreWorks rehearsals and run of The Four Immigrants.

Auditioning the show at Pearl Studios, NYC

Bi-Coastal Auditions
Early in the year, TheatreWorks flew me out to New York and Los Angeles for auditions. This was the first time I have ever been flown to other locations to search for actors. In New York, we were auditioning at Pearl Studios. Several other productions were holding their own auditions in other rooms, including Disney's Frozen (both the Broadway and the California Adventure calls). It was thrilling to consider how many Broadway writers, directors and performers had been in and out of this building!

Overwhelming support from friends old and new
I am floored by how many people came to see the show, particularly those whom I have not seen in such a long time! Folks from every "era" of my life — friends from high school, college, my childhood church, my old corporate job; family members; and colleagues from theatre — surprised me with a text or e-mail saying they were coming to or were at the show. My heart is filled with warmth and gratitude at the outpouring of love and support for the project.

Me, Actor James Seol, and Akiko Kiyama posing with a photo of Henry Kiyama and his parrot

A Visit from the Kiyamas
Akiko Kiyama, the granddaughter of Henry Kiyama (author of the original comic book), flew to California from Japan with her husband Ken'ichi just to see our production of The Four Immigrants. Both were very moved by the performance. Afterwards, when Akiko saw actor James Seol (who plays Henry in the musical), she called him ojiisan - "grandfather." Everyone in the room could sense how special this moment was. There were smiles and tears all around - and lots of photos taken.

Hearing from Asian Americans and Immigrants
While I've been blown away by the positive response from audiences, the reactions from other Asians/Asian Americans have been particularly poignant: how the show made one man feel "proud" to be Asian, how it helped a wife (Asian, but not native to the States) understand more of what her Asian-American husband might have experienced growing up, how a Japanese American felt that the show honored the history of her family and heritage. I've also heard from folks who aren't Asian, but identify as immigrants or are closely connected to their immigrant lineage, saying the show conveys emotions and sentiments they identify with deeply. I'm honored to have created a vehicle for people to process or experience catharsis of some kind — and hopefully keep them entertained along the way.

Thank you to everyone who came to see the show, or who supported it from afar! And of course thank you to the entire cast, crew, creative team, and TheatreWorks for the unforgettable ride this was!

Creativity Quotation #19

"Make them laugh to make your point." - Sonya Manzano, "Maria" from Sesame Street

Thoughts on Diversity in Broadway Musical Storytelling

Travelers on diverted planes in the wake of 9/11 find themselves in and around the town of Gander, Newfoundland.

In an attempt to fit in, a high schooler tells a lie that gets completely out of control.

A zoom lens is taken to a section of Tolstoy's War and Peace as we follow the romantic story of two outsiders who find each other.

A weatherman is forced to relive the same day over and over again.

These are very roughly (very, very roughly, since I haven't seen any of them!) the plots of the four Best Musical Tony 2017 nominees, which are also the four nominated for Best Original Score and Best Book: Come From Away; Dear Evan Hansen; Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812; and Groundhog Day. I love how different these stories are from each other. It's evidence that musical theatre as an art form has really branched out beyond any particular template of storytelling. And it has been like this for a few years now. Book of Mormon, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, Grey Gardens, Fun Home, Hamilton, Waitress - the subject matter of contemporary musicals is so varied from show to show — even on Broadway, which can often be seen as a purely commercial venture with great potential to fall victim to cookie-cutter producing. This trend is heartening to me, because it shows that commercialism need not win over storytelling. Or even, that good and diverse storytelling can lead to commercial success on Broadway. Something that doesn't seem to ring true for Hollywood blockbusters.

Yet, amidst this diversity of stories is something worth noting: All of the musical theatre writing teams (and even the directors) of the four musicals listed above are white. Of course, I acknowledge that "white" is a largely diverse group in and of itself. The writers come from different countries, and undoubtedly bring different perspectives to musical theatre. But if you look over the Best Musical, Best Score, and Best Lyrics Tony nominees over the past twenty years, you'll see that writing acclaimed musical theatre is a very white thing to do (and more often than not, white male). Writers like Lin-Manuel Miranda and Stew are the exceptions, not the norm. And as an Asian American, it's not particularly encouraging that the few times that Asian Americans are heavily featured during the Tony Awards ceremony is due to revivals of South Pacific, The King and I and, this year, Miss Saigon - all stories written by white men. (For the record, I view those shows as simultaneously beneficial for Asian American actors in the industry AND problematic for the perception of Asian Americans in musical theatre as a whole.)

I don't write this to place blame. Or to inflict guilt. The point is observation. All but two of the actors and actresses nominated for performances in a musical this year are white. Who gets to write the stories affects who is represented on the Broadway stage. Who gets to write the stories influences the kinds of stories that get told. I don't necessarily have any magical solutions to this problem, other than to buckle down and write, compose, get better at my craft, learn from other musicals, collaborate with amazing people, and keep advocating for diversity in storytellers as much as diversity in storytelling. Maybe I'll make it to Broadway, maybe I won't. But I hope that no matter where my work gets performed, I'm tilting that dial of representation to better reflect the actual diversity in the US.

The Joy of Listening

Because I was a Music Major, I put a lot of pressure on myself to "be on top of" music. I have lists of music (ranging from classical to jazz to musical theatre to pop to film score) I SHOULD listen to -- and not just listen to, but analyze and form intelligent thoughts about. "Maybe I'll rent a score from Cal's Music Library and map out a symphony's harmonic structure! For fun," I tell myself. But the inevitable result is that I feel defeated and then don't want to listen to anything.

Recently, I listened to Michael Ian Black's podcast "How To Be Amazing" and someone was talking about the best way to experience an art museum. Instead of trying to see everything in a museum, a more enjoyable experience is to realize the amount of time you have and focus on a few select exhibits appropriate to that amount of time. Of course, a moment of discovery might occur that takes you off your path, but going into the museum with the goal of seeing everything is a fool's errand. Sure, you may see everything by the end, but will you actually have enjoyed the experience? I've found that by around the two-hour mark in a museum, my mind is completely shot -- and I haven't even seen half of what's on display! Why not select the things that I think I might actually be interested in?

So, I'm trying to approach listening to music this way. Try to listen to things I might actually enjoy. And if I don't enjoy it, that's OK. Move on. And of course, stay open to surprise discoveries. This is a far cry from feeling like I need to put myself through self-inflicted grad school. I believed the lie that I had to academically analyze every piece of music I listened to. And by doing so, I sucked the joy out of listening to music entirely.

Last week, I started listening to Stravinsky, because I remember that I enjoyed his work in college. And I've found, I indeed enjoy his work today! This guy is dope and a little cray! I don't have his scores in front of me, and I'm not going to write an essay about what makes his music so great (other than to say he's dope and a little cray). I just ENJOY it, and I'm trusting that somehow I'm unconsciously picking up on why. Maybe one day I'll dig deeper, but again, the motivation should be because I actually enjoy doing so - not because I feel like I have to please the Asian academic gods in my head.

Creativity Quotation #18

He goes his way singing, offering flowers.
And his words rain down
Like jade and quetzal plumes.
Is this what pleases the Giver of Life?
Is that the only truth on earth?

- Ayocuan Cuetzpaltzin, 15th Century Mesoamerican Poet