by Max Friedlich | June 20, 2013
Max Adler and Robert Gant in "Black Ice." Photo by Anne McGrath.
Last July, I sat on the dusty concrete floor in the basement of Cushing House at Vassar College and listened to my friends tell some of the most embarrassing and perverse stories I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. Some were hilarious, some horrible, and most a delicious combination of the two. I was at Vassar for the Powerhouse Theater Apprentice Program, a six-week theater intensive for high school seniors and college students (I being one of the former) who wished to push their theatrical abilities to the utmost degree in a professional and rigorous atmosphere. After hearing those stories, I returned to my room and began Black Ice.
For my final project at the Vassar program, I wanted to write about something religious. More specifically, I wanted to write about the consequences of an afterlife for the millions of people in our modern society who are steadfastly opposed to the very notion of any form of spirituality. I received a resoundingly liberal private school education, and the pervasive attitudes among my peers and my parents' friends were that there is most assuredly no omnipotent being pulling all the strings in the universe. I've always held that the whole point of religion is to believe without proof, but in today's world, science and faith often are viewed as being at odds with each other. I wanted to imagine the consequences of such attitudes. I combined that with the stories from the basement and I had a play on my hands.
Once the play was written, it was completely re--imagined and improved upon by my director and actors at Vassar. I was lucky enough to be paired with Tomi Tsunoda, one of the Powerhouse teachers and a masterful one at that, as the director. Tomi's suggestions were on point and supported the underlying ideas I was trying to express. However, the real lesson came in how she dealt with our actors and me. Through working on this play, which has only two roles, I experienced a kind of collaboration that had previously evaded me.
The actors were two of my best friends at the program, and as a result we ended up talking about the play too much. In my dorm room, outside of rehearsal, I told them what I wanted and how I saw the characters, totally overstepping my bounds. Tomi put me in my place. Through watching her, I gained a better understanding about how the three-way marriage between writer, actor, and director should work. She fought for her ideas, I fought for mine, and we often agreed. Having Black Ice read at Powerhouse was an invigorating experience, one that made me want to continue with the play.
I heard about the Blank Theatre Young Playwrights Festival through my friend Rachel Kaly, a winner from both last year and this. I decided to apply, not thinking about the logistical hurdles of getting to LA, where I would stay once I got there, or how I would get around sans car or driver's license.
My experience with the Blank has been wonderful. My mentor, Patrick Burleigh, won't be able to see the play performed because he has his own piece at Powerhouse, which — besides being the host of an exceptionally well-run apprentice program -- is also one of the most prestigious play development centers in the United States. Back east, all I knew about LA was Compton and Barton Fink. The entire Blank family has shown me tremendous kindness and has given a lot of their time to make sure I have rides to my destinations and basic LA necessities such as sparkling water.
I never would have thought this play would be performed by actors from Glee (Max Adler) and Queer as Folk (Robert Gant), but that's the position in which I find myself. The play has only two characters, so these guys had a ton of text to conquer. Not only have they done that, they've met outside of rehearsal to run lines and, through their in-depth questions, I've discovered parts of the play I didn't know existed. They'll ask me if I intended something to meet some profound idea and I'll smile and nod, when really it's their close reading of the text that' creating meaning and significance throughout the play.
I'll trying to savor the Black Ice experience because I can't imagine all the theaters with which I might work in the future are going to be this accommodating and nurturing. So far, nobody has treated me like a 'young playwright.' They treat me with respect, and I in turn am in awe of them.
LA has been cool. Everyone makes fun of me for trying to walk places, and people keep buying me salads.
Black Ice, Blank Theatre's 21st annual Young Playwrights Festival, Stella Adler Theatre, 6773 Hollywood Blvd. Hollywood 90028. Opens tonight. Thu-Sat 8 pm, Sun 2 pm. Tickets: $14-$20. www.TheBlank.com, 323-661-9827.
**All Black Ice production photos by Anne McGrath.
Max Friedlich is a graduate of Friends Seminary High School and a member of the Wesleyan University class of 2017. His first play, Sleepover, was performed as part of the New York International Fringe Festival.