On a less festive day, I may have titled this post READING: NOT JUST ABOUT SOUNDING OUT THE WORDS. But instead, I’d rather take the opportunity to give a shout out to one of the greatest assets we have at Manhattan Tour And Travel, Steve Hayet, who’s celebrating a birthday today. He is officially a Tour Coordinator at MTAT, but also a tech savior, problem-solver, and all around good guy. A mensch. And yes, he’s the reason these blog posts get from my laptop to the website and blasted out into social media land. Steve, thank you for everything you do!!

Back to the art of the reading. As a playwright, I find them invaluable in showcasing and selling my work. What is a reading, you ask? Good question. After writing a play, or at least finishing some draft/version/misguided attempt, I often coordinate a reading. If you’re a TV fan, you’ve probably heard the term “table read”, where actors, writers, producers and the director of a project sit around a table and read a pilot episode, film script or play, before putting it up on its feet.

In the world of theatre, however, it’s far more common to come across the “staged reading”. This is an opportunity to have actors on a stage, platform, or just in a room, to read/act out a script without costumes, props and scenery. According to Actors Equity Association rules, movement/blocking must be extremely limited and absolutely no choreography is allowed, if it happens to be a reading of a musical piece. I’ve orchestrated countless readings of my own plays (some of which are pictured here), to “hear” my play. It’s amazing the changes that come from actually hearing and seeing, to some degree, professional actors bringing life to the narrative and the characters. Readings can have a huge impact on future drafts.

Readings can also be used to “sell” your project to producers and investors. AEA terms this a “Backers’ Reading” or “Backers’ Audition”. In a sense, you are auditioning your piece in front of these folks, hoping they might bite and invest or develop it or be a part of a future production. I’m actually setting up a reading of my new play, entitled KATANOISI, for the beginning of November. Quickly approaching—yikes! Katanoisi is the Greek word for comprehension/understanding/grip. Casting has commenced today. Since many of you are faithfully reading from out of town, I’m giving you a special sneak peek—Scene One of my unreleased psychological thriller. Hope you enjoy it!

ISABELLE, composed as an able psychiatrist would be.
Boorish ANISIO, reluctantly horizontal.

ISABELLE
Let’s begin.

ANISIO
Is this really necessary?

ISABELLE
Focus on your breath. Chest, rising and falling. Start with the first thing you can remember.

ANISIO
I can’t.

ISABELLE
You can’t? Or won’t?

ANISIO
The stairs.

ISABELLE
What stairs?

ANISIO
Leading up.

ISABELLE
Good. What were they like?
(no reply)
Were they steep? Endless? Did you fall?

ANISIO
No, I didn’t fall. They were… rocky.

ISABELLE
Did they hurt your feet?

ANISIO
I don’t remember.

ISABELLE
Where did they lead?

ANISIO
Up.

ISABELLE
To what?

ANISIO
To the top. It took forever.

ISABELLE
Time runs strangely in dreams.

ANISIO
I was treading very carefully — to avoid a misstep.

ISABELLE
Why?

ANISIO
My hands were full.

A pause.

ISABELLE
And then?

ANISIO
Eventually, I reached the top.

ISABELLE
What did it look like?

ANISIO
Different from the photos.

ISABELLE
Just tell me what you saw.

ANISIO
The path was winding.

ISABELLE
Winding?

ANISIO
Around the mountain.

ISABELLE
What else?

ANISIO
Some stones were loose — a few fell.

ISABELLE
Did you see them fall?

ANISIO
I saw them drop all the way down to the sea. It was blue and green — so many shades of blue and green. A long way down.

ISABELLE
What else?

ANISIO
The goat. Again.

ISABELLE
At the top?

ANISIO
On the way up. I think.

ISABELLE
So, you haven’t reached the top?

ANISIO
No. I mean, I saw it. Bright white. It was in view, then obscured by rock. But I knew it was the monastery.

ISABELLE
How did you feel when you saw it?

ANISIO
I don’t remember.

ISABELLE
Try.

ANISIO
…I can’t.

ISABELLE
So, you reach the top.

ANISIO
Before that. The goat.

ISABELLE
Yes?

ANISIO
This time, it hissed at me. Is that important?

ISABELLE
Is it?

ANISIO
(he sits up)
I’m not doing this —

ISABELLE
(assertive)
Lie down. Please. Go back to the dream.
He lies down but appears far away.

ISABELLE
Anisio. Skip ahead to the monastery.

ANISIO
It was white.

ISABELLE
You said. Anything else?

ANISIO
The brightest white I’ve ever seen. I guess… the sun, reflecting off the stone. I was blinded.

ISABELLE
Were you afraid?

ANISIO
Afraid I was going to drop —

ISABELLE
Did you go inside?

ANISIO
I must have. I don’t remember a door but I remember the inside.

ISABELLE
Were you alone?

ANISIO
No. There was a priest.

ISABELLE
A priest?

ANISIO
Not really a priest. But he was a holy man. He was dressed casually, in jeans. He had earrings. And a scratchy beard. Do you think —

ISABELLE
Let’s not try to interpret. Just tell me what happened. Did you approach him? Did he speak?

ANISIO
(becomes uncharacteristically emotional)
He said that he spoke.

ISABELLE
He SAID that he spoke?

ANISIO
He spoke.

ISABELLE
What did he say?

ANISIO
He told the story.

ISABELLE
What story?

ANISIO
The story of the monastery.

ISABELLE
Try to remember exactly what he said.

ANISIO
How can I remember when I wasn’t even there?

ISABELLE
In the dream, what did he say?

ANISIO
He pointed to the far wall. The walls are made of stone — the whole structure is carved into the side of a mountain.

ISABELLE
What was he pointing to?

ANISIO
A chisel. The chisel in the story.

ISABELLE
He told you this?

ANISIO
No. I read about the legend. So in the dream I already knew.

ISABELLE
You recognized it.

ANISIO
Of course. It was sharp, like a dagger. It wasn’t behind glass in the dream.

ISABELLE
A weapon.

ANISIO
I wasn’t worried about the dagger.

ISABELLE
The chisel.

ANISIO
…Yeah.

ISABELLE
Anything else? About the interior?

ANISIO
I’m not certain if I noticed before or after the priest —

ISABELLE
The man in jeans?

ANISIO
But there were paintings — religious icons — on the wall. There ARE paintings on the wall. I saw them in the photographs. I don’t know if I dreamt about them first or remembered them from the report —

ISABELLE
Just stick to the dream.

ANISIO
They were… typical.

ISABELLE
I don’t know what that means.

ANISIO
Yes, you do.
(she doesn’t respond)
Flat. Two-dimensional. Byzantine-like, I don’t know… Big dead eyes, halos, lots of gold paint.

ISABELLE
Good.

ANISIO
The Panagia — her mouth — it was moving.

ISABELLE
The Panagia?

ANISIO
The dark-eyed Virgin.

ISABELLE
She spoke to you?

ANISIO
It was a dream — I’m not fucking delusional. I’m not —

ISABELLE
What did she say? Could you make out anything?

ANISIO
No.

ISABELLE
No?

ANISIO
…I don’t want to talk about that.

ISABELLE
Okay. You don’t have to.

ANISIO
Can we stop now?

ISABELLE
You’re almost done. Tell me what happened next.

ANISIO
What happened next…?

ISABELLE
How did it end?

ANISIO
You know how.

ISABELLE
(prompting)
You went outside…

ANISIO
There was a balcony or terrace. There may have been flags.

ISABELLE
What kind of flags?

ANISIO
(unraveling)
I don’t remember! I don’t even remember if there were flags. Greek flags!

ISABELLE
Okay.

ANISIO
It was windy. I remember something blowing because it was incredibly windy. Like…

ISABELLE
Like…?

ANISIO
It wasn’t like anything. It was just windy.

ISABELLE
Like it was going to blow you off the mountain?

ANISIO
Maybe.

ISABELLE
What happened to the man? In jeans.

ANISIO
He wasn’t there anymore. I think I was alone. Well, not entirely.

ISABELLE
Not entirely?

He glares bitterly.

ISABELLE (CONT’D)
How did it end?

ANISIO
You tell ME.

ISABELLE
The falling.

ANISIO
…Falling.

ISABELLE
You’re almost done. Tell me about the falling.

ANISIO
I don’t understand how this is helpful.

ISABELLE
Was it fast? Was it frightening?

ANISIO
(laughing)
Frightening??

ISABELLE
Tell me. I don’t know how it was.

ANISIO
You don’t know. YOU didn’t fall.

ISABELLE
You’re either going to tell me or you won’t.

ANISIO
(sitting up, leaning forward)
It was the most terrifying fall imaginable. …A thing of nightmares, dropping from impossible heights, unable to catch my breath. My stomach leapt into my throat like a roller coaster’d gone off the rails, never resolving. I woke up still feeling a hollow in the deepest recess of my gut, gasping for air and searching for something… anything, to grab onto.

ISABELLE
You felt like that, upon waking?

ANISIO
I’ve felt like that ever since.

Isabelle is alone, post session. She looks disturbed but remains rooted in the tangible.
She speaks into a dictaphone.

ISABELLE
Patient 4-2-8, Anisio Argyris. Twenty-five September. Patient was… characteristically resistant to treatment. Displayed opposition, challenged the efficacy of the exercise throughout. Patient was persuaded to continue, to complete the regression. The recall was inconsistent from previous sessions. Either the dream is evolving or the patient is censoring aspects of the dream. Examples: art on the walls of the monastery, flags… other symbols. Patient speaks of events as if he did not experience them directly, a dissociative quality that’s increasing over time. As if his dream belongs to another’s experience set. He’s referencing photographs, reports. He’s found a monastery from unidentified sources that somewhat fits the specs of the dream monastery — weaving elements of the subconscious with reality. They seem to be influencing one another. …Also, there are still definite gaps in the dream sequence, particularly just prior to the fall. This moment may define why or how the fall occurs. Is he pushed? Does he jump? Falling in dreams is commonly thought to be related to anxiety, a lack of control in a given situation or generalized. Also, a feeling of failure. Freudian interpretation points to a lack of control, giving in to desires self-defined as inappropriate. Patient also noted physical sensations upon waking: difficulty breathing, a panicked state. Noteworthy—falling dreams are common in those who suffer from depression, post trauma.