Re-Thinking My Work Day

This year, I made the decision to devote myself to playwriting (and composing) full-time. Unbeknownst to me at the time, what accompanied this decision was pressure. I told myself that if I'm going to work full-time, then I need to spend 8 hours a day working on my projects. I thought: "Everyone else is slaving away at least that amount of time working at their jobs, so I must do the same."

But the fact was, I never ended up writing or composing or researching 8 hours a day. Most of the time, my brain would reach creative capacity for the day at around 4 hours of work total. I started to feel guilty, thinking that I was lazy, and turning my vocation into an excuse to goof off. So I pushed harder, and the pressure and guilt only increased to the point where I wasn't sleeping well due to anxiety and stress. Something had to change.

I decided to experiment. I would give myself permission to have 4-hour work days. I blocked out two 2-hour chunks of time (before and after lunch) that would be dedicated to my writing projects. If I felt like working longer, I could. But if I fulfilled the 4 hours, then I would allow myself to be done with work that day.

I started this experiment two weeks ago, and the stress and guilt have gone down considerably. I find that the work I accomplish in those 4 hours is quite productive. And usually, I end up working longer, often working up to 6 hours total. Today, I found this article titled "Why you should work 4 hours a day, according to science" which gives a quick profile on renowned scientists who accomplished much in their field, and yet only worked 4 hours a day. It's a nice confirmation that I may be on the right track here. I'm in the company of people like Charles Darwin! OK, maybe not that exactly, but I'm hopeful that this new 4-hour workday can yield great creative results for me. Let's see how it goes!

UPDATE: A couple days later, I found this article titled "Use the Two-Hour Rule to Make Progress on Your Creative Projects" confirming my plan of splitting my work into two-hour chunks!

Revising the Nightingale: An Ode to Long and Feng

The biggest script change from the previous version of The Song of the Nightingale and the upcoming Town Hall Theatre production is the removal of two clown-like twins named Long and Feng. This duo served as the Emperor's main attendants and provided a lot of the comic relief in the show. They did cartwheels, offered sarcastic commentary, and oh -- the puns! When it came time to revise the show, however, I knew that I needed to cut down the duration considerably. Long and Feng rarely did anything to push the plot forward, and anything that did feel substantial to the story could easily be handed to another character. I decided to try this new version without them. By doing so, I also discovered that removing the characters of Long and Feng allowed the humor and presence of the other characters to shine through more clearly, without any vaudevillian interruptions. What's remarkable is that the idea of cutting the twins from the show would never have dawned on me sans the prospect of a second production on the horizon. As I said in a previous post, I don't know that a show is ever "done," but I'm so grateful to Town Hall Theatre for this chance to explore and experiment with a more streamlined Nightingale.

And thank you, Long and Feng, for your time and service to the show.

Feng (Isabel To) and Long (Christopher Juan) - you will be missed. But don't worry! Isabel and Chris are now playing other roles in the new production!

Creativity Quotation #21

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”  - Ralph Waldo Emerson

When is a musical "done?"

A question many artists face is "At what point do you know you are done with your work?" When do you put the paintbrush down, hit that print button, finalize the master? For those of us in the performing arts, the occasion of an opening night helps provide a cut-off date. In most cases, it's inappropriate to make considerable changes to a show once it's opened, so that first performance of a run is as good a marker as any to indicate doneness. And sometimes, we need that marker to tell us it's time to stop and let the work live on its own as is. That doesn't guarantee, however, that we will have a strong internal sense that the work is complete.

In fact, I often feel that a show of mine is never done. Or at least, there is always room for my work to be tweaked, re-thought, analyzed (case in point, the newly revised version of The Song of the Nightingale opening at Town Hall Theatre this month). I like to think of it as a question of whether the work is "done enough." This can be just as vague and difficult to pin down, but at least it doesn't imply an ominous finality to the work.

Learning when my work is "done enough" has been a matter of practice and experience. This is the value of readings and workshops. Each time I bring a play or musical to a group of actors to read or sing, I aim for it to be "done enough" for that particular occasion. I try to approach productions the same way. What needs to be "done enough" for opening night? There will always be threads of story or thought that would be interesting to explore. There will always be other decisions that characters can make. There will always be the relative aspects of art that can be debated for years. But, is the musical "done enough" to present in a reading, a workshop, opening night? I have found thinking of the work in this way far more helpful and far less harrowing, because it holds out hope that once closing night hits, I am welcome to re-open that script file on my laptop and begin cracking away at it again.

A Glimpse at the Nightingale set design

Just a brief post to share the set design concept and build for Town Hall Theatre's upcoming production of The Song of the Nightingale!

Scenic Design by Martin Flynn.

The set is really coming along! And so is this beautiful cast!