Incubator of Creativity:
Reviving Lanford Wilson’s Balm in Gilead at NY’s T. Schreiber Studio
by Erica Lauren McLaughlin

When I first accepted the role of Bonnie in Balm in Gilead, I thought “this will be a breeze”. I should have known then I would be in big, big trouble. As an actress who had taken classes previously with our director Peter Jensen, I knew first hand that a role is never as simple as it seems on the page, and that there would surely be work to be done. Even with that knowledge, I had no idea just how challenging it’d be performing Balm in Gilead: Lanford Wilson’s intricate blues symphony about New York’s lower depths.

Balm in Gilead is a 29 character play, (down from the original draft by the playwright which featured over 50) featuring overlapping scenes and dialogue, and a famous monologue which lasts for the majority of the second act. Most of the characters are on stage all the time: living, conversing, doing drugs, rambling on to themselves, singing, prostituting, you name it–even when they don’t have written dialogue. This results in an underscoring cacophony of sound not unlike what you hear when walking down any street in Manhattan, and as the playwright notes in the play, “when it gets quiet… you almost think something is gonna happen”. As an actor, this requires you put some of your best acting training to use: relaxation, imagination, improvisation, character development, among other skills; and the play highlights one particularly important skill—listening.

Which is undoubtedly what Lanford Wilson did when writing the play, he listened. In a 2001 interview he says, “I found that the quality of my work improved immensely in New York because I was in this incubator of creativity.” Balm in Gilead seems to be a direct reflection of this, a young ambitious playwright; all at once consuming the sea of voices that surrounding him rather than to be consumed by them. It is not unlike how I often feel as an actress in the city, or more specifically as an actress studying at T. Schreiber Studio, performing in Balm in Gilead. I am constantly surrounded by a diverse group of multi-talented people, and in a nurturing artistic environment, rather than be intimidated, I am able to become inspired by and ride the wave of their creativity. Lanford Wilson listened to the rhythms of the city and responded with his pen. On stage in Balm, we listen to the melody of the script and respond through his exacting dialogue.

Speaking of exacting, the production is in the capable hands of Peter Jensen, whose last year production of Wilson’s Fifth of July gained critical acclaim and the seal of approval of the playwright himself, who visited with the cast at T. Schreiber Studio. Peter’s character exercises, place specificity, research, and commitment to attempt (at least once) the script exactly the way it was intended makes him a perfect companion to Balm in Gilead. Much of the work on the play is like figuring out a Rubix cube: rearranging the various interlocking colors until they all fit together in harmony. As an actor, this means doing your best research: Who exactly am I talking to? Where am I coming from? What do I really want in this moment? In Balm, the lines simply serve as clues. We are lucky to have Peter who guides this work and ensures it is done meticulously for every role.

The result of all of this is that the entire Gloria Maddox Theater at T. Schreiber Studio is transformed into a buzzing, bustling, café like the ones our playwright encountered upon arriving to New York City. The production becomes homage to the then avant-garde productions of Lanford Wilson at the beginning of the Off-Off Broadway movement. To me, after seeing most of last season’s plays on Broadway, this play, 45 years later, still feels revolutionary. The attempt at a new naturalism in his writing is far more experimental than that of say, David Mamet, who has been produced on Broadway constantly in the last few seasons. Which is not to say the two writers should even be compared similarly. With a Broadway revival of Talley’s Folly scheduled for next season, Lanford Wilson will return to the commercial world of Broadway. But in the right hands (hopefully ours are capable enough to fit the bill), his work seems to thrive best in that incubator of creativity that is Off-Off Broadway. I feel privileged to be a part of it, and can’t wait to share it with our audience.

Celebrating at the Center of the Universe:
My New Year's Eve Experience at Havana Central Times Square


It's midnight. The band is playing and the whole room is on its feet, in tune with the bongos which wash away the roar from the crowd outside. You are surrounded by smiling faces and beautiful palm trees with soft, yellow lights strung up on them. You are so full you pray for forgiveness from your gluttony. Glass of sangria in hand, you feel the warmth from the red wine nestling inside your tummy. And, you are not even on vacation. This is how I rang in my New Year, Cuban style, at Havana Central's Times Square location.

When I was chosen as one of Havana's New Year's Eve Social Media Reporters, I originally told the coordinator Cecilia, that I would participate at any of the locations at which she needed help. When she offered me the Times Square location, my stomach jumped a bit. Not that I hadn't always wanted to see what it was like down there, but as someone whose job normally requires dealing with the Times Square tourist, I had previously avoided it completely based on the horror stories. I imagined being jostled around trying to get through a billion people with adult diapers and ten layers of pants on all waiting to make out at midnight. However, curiosity overwhelmed me, and as I do like shiny things, I wanted to be near that madness once again. So I put on my party dress, grabbed my video camera, invited a handsome friend, and headed down to Midtown.

Havana Central provided passes for access to 46th street, and to my pleasant surprise I was able to breeze through security and walk right down to the restaurant. My friend was already impressed with my VIP status, and when we arrived, the celebrity treatment continued with warm welcome and interaction with Eli, the manager on duty. We were early for our reservation, but he showed us to the bar where the wonderful Brooke served us two glasses of the Premium Sangria, made with Red Wine, Hennessey, and Grand Marnier. I chatted with a few of the bar guests who were all in good spirits, leaving the previous event as the restaurant transitioned to its Prix Fixe service.

We were among the first tables sat, and our server, Armando, greeted us with noise makers, beads, and plastic Fedoras with "Happy New Year" around the brim. A few seconds later, the Malanga Chips arrived, with a delicious avocado and mango salsita accompaniment. We left no chip behind. Next up, for appetizers I chose a trio of octopus, olive, and shrimp ceviche and my friend had chicharrones, chicken “lollipops” glazed with Havana's signature guava bqq sauce. All were delicious, but the octopus ceviche was our favorite, which Mondaire called "exquisite". For entree I chose the huge Cowboy ribeye and coconut rice and Mondaire went for the Mariscadade Langosta with Maduros, featuring a lobster tail and other seafood sunken in a tomato, garlic and wine broth. My steak was cooked to a perfect Medium Rare, and Mondaire didn’t speak through his whole entrée, just a few head shakes in his bliss. There was a lot of reaching across to the other’s entrée with a fork. We chilled out for a while and drank a few of Havana’s signature Mojitos as we tried to digest.



On my break, I met two girls from Australia in the bathroom who were enjoying their Cuban/American experience immensely and posed for the camera. I also chatted—the best I could with my limited Spanish—to the lively group in the corner who had been dancing since we received our welcome appetizers. While floating around the restaurant with increasing nostalgia induced by my oncoming food coma, I remembered all of the good times my friends and I have had over the year at Havana Central. I considered how it was truly a meeting point of varied cultures: from international tourist that meet here at the intersection of the world in Times Square, the many Latinos that filled the booths this New Year’s Eve seeking authenticity in their food and entertainment, to those of us who are not Cuban, like founder Jeremy Merrin, who are passionate for the rich flavors of Cuban cuisine. All over, you could feel the embracing of this diversity as the crowds outside continued to build down 46th street.



Returning to dinner, my friend and I had two espressos, hoping to fight off giving into that food coma and still be awake when the ball dropped. We then chose our desserts, Chocolate Rum Cake and my personal favorite, Tres Leches. We gave them our best effort as we waited for the ball to drop. As the tables around us finished their meals, all seemed to migrate immediately to the dance floor. The band increased their energy exponentially, aided by the beautiful Flamenco dancers who occasionally grabbed a guest out of their seat and onto the dance floor. As the final moments of 2009 approached, my friend and I danced all around in whirl of laughter, clapping, cowbell, and flapping ruffles of a Flamenco dress nearby. While I expected a flood out into the street to see the ball drop at midnight, most embraced a friend and shouted along with the monitor watching the confetti fall just outside the door. Hugging, horn blowing, kissing, smiling, laughing and dancing swelled for the next ten minutes as no one said anything: we just sipped our champagne and non-verbally showed our love for those around us, for another year, and for the magical night we had all shared at Havana Central.
Then, back to the dance floor.


MORE:
Check out Kim Parris' photos and videos from the event at Union Square location: http://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=234700717228&id=90800353649#/pages/K-Parris-Catering-Personal-Chef-Service/90800353649?ref=nf

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