Hey everyone! I was recently asked by the amazing John Towsen (author of "Clowns" - see my post: "The Power of Laughter") to write a guest post for his wonderful blog. It's on physical comedy in musical theater. You can check it out here:
http://physicalcomedy.blogspot.com/2013/01/guest-post-ashley-griffin-on-physical.html
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Ashley's Guide To Collaboration
A Guide To Collaboration
A lot of people have
asked me for advice regarding collaboration, as well as about my experiences
with collaborating. Collaborating on a new work, specifically as a writer, can
either be one of the greatest experiences ever, or one of the absolute worst. I
find it is a topic not often discussed, and sometimes a few helpful hints can
make a world of difference. So, this is my guide on how to have a successful
collaboration. I have divided it up into three sections: 1.) Co writing 2.)
Separate but equal collaboration 3.) Ensemble collaboration.
1.)
Co writing
To be brutally honest:
tread with EXTREME caution. I know that sounds cryptic, but it’s true for many,
many reasons. Especially since this tends to be one of the most common types of
collaboration, and it is often entered into very causally. “Hey BFF – we should
totally write a movie together!” “I have this cool idea for a play, wanna write
it with me?” etc. It’s also the easiest to enter into for the wrong reasons.
Entering into any kind of
collaboration, but especially co writing, is the equivalent of getting
married. And that’s not simply metaphoric – it’s meant in a very literal, legal
sense too. Actually, it’s like getting married and instantly having a child.
Only, where as when an actual marriage doesn’t work out the two parties can get
divorced and, as painful and difficult as it may be, can in a way “divide” the
child between them, when you’re in a co authored collaboration that doesn’t
work out your only options are to force yourselves to stay together to keep the
child (your work) alive, or, quite literally, kill the metaphoric baby. When
you enter into a co authorship you are creating what is legally termed a “joint
work.” This means that the elements of that work cannot be separated. You can’t
sit down and say: “well, I came up with the idea, so that’s mine, but you came
up with the characters, so those are yours, and I think I wrote this line of
dialogue, so that’s mine…” and then go your separate ways and rewrite your
material using none of the influence of the other party. You either stay together and follow
through on the show/film, or the idea is basically dead (unless the other party
gives you WRITTEN, not verbal, permission to go it alone, which is what
happened when Jonathan Larson’s original “Rent” collaborator lost interest in
the project.) Now there are some possible exceptions to this. You can
retain an idea if it is completely yours. You cannot, however, use, or claim
credit for ANYTHING that you jointly came up with with your collaborator. So if
you’re really able to reboot completely from scratch, with no copy write
infringement, it’s possible, though very difficult.
Co writing is also like a
marriage in that you get to know your collaborator intimately. You may be
friends with the person you’re collaborating with, you may admire them, but
that’s not enough to keep a collaboration together. It’s the same as when two
friends become roommates. Sometimes it works out great. Sometimes it destroys
the relationship. Your collaborator may work at a different speed then you – do
you finish all your writing in less then a week? You may be harassing your
collaborator who takes months to finish an equivalent assignment to hurry up.
Or visa versa. You might like your collaborator’s writing, but are your writing
styles compatible with each other? Is it painfully clear who wrote which
scenes? Just because you like someone’s work doesn’t mean you should
collaborate with them.
And more then that –
collaborations can go south on tiny things. You will be spending a great deal
of time in each other’s company. You will be in each other’s homes. You will be
eating the same food. You will be hanging out with their friends, and they with
yours. At some point they will do something to hurt your feelings, and visa
versa. Many of the adjustments you have to make when you marry someone, you
will have to make when you collaborate with someone.
And most important of
all, you must both be telling the same story. If you have different ideas about
the theme, structure, or how the story should be told, it’s not going to work.
If one person is not open to hearing criticism or rewriting, it’s not going to
work. If one of you is more enthusiastic about the project then the other, it’s
not going to work. I personally have only co written two pieces in my life. Not
that I haven’t had the opportunity to co write more. They were only entered
into after careful thought. Here is a checklist for when you’re deciding
whether or not to co write a piece with someone.
1.)
Why are we
interested in telling this story? Are we unified in our reasoning?
2.)
Do I respect
this person as an artist?
3.)
Do I respect
this person as a human being?
4.)
Is this
person open to critiques, and rewriting?
5.)
Am I open,
and comfortable with receiving critiques from them?
6.)
Is this
someone that I want to spend many hours with, every week for months, and
possibly years?
7.)
Is this
someone I can see being in my life for a very long time?
8.)
If this
person and I are not getting along personally, are we both able to put that
aside and maintain a professional relationship?
9.)
Is there a
reason why it is more beneficial to write this story with this person then it
would be for either one of us to write it alone? The fact that we could hang
out and it would be “more fun” is not an acceptable reason. This is one of the MOST important questions
on this list.
10.) Does working
with this person inspire me? Or make me feel worse about myself, and my
abilities?
If you have not
positively answered EVERY one of these questions DO NOT enter into a co
authorship. I’ll use one of my collaborations as an example. Right now I’m in
the process of co writing a play. I’ve answered all the questions in the
affirmative. For question #9 I would say that my collaborator and I, while
sharing similar artistic likes, and vocabulary each have different areas of
expertise, and different artistic backgrounds. We are therefore able to
compliment each other with our strengths.
Once you have decided to
co write, sit down with your collaborator and establish the following.
1.)
While friendship is a helpful aspect of
collaboration it is not a NECESSAIRY aspect. I repeat: as sad as it may sound, it is not necessary for
collaborators to be friends. If you are friends, put it to the side when you are
actually working. My collaborators and I often, vocally, establish
“professional” time, and “friend” time when we are together. Talk beforehand about what your
professional relationship will be. This includes (potentially) drawing up
contracts, establishing “credit,” and royalty percentages, as well as what your
actual process will be. No, do not think “oh, but we’ll be fine, we’re buddies,
we don’t need a contract.” Think in terms of a worse case scenario. You do. I
don’t care how close you are. This will also prevent any potential business
issues from destroying a friendship if one already exists. On the flip side, being co writers means you're going to have to get personal with each other - to a degree. You will be spending a lot of time with each other, and talking about the emotional issues you're writing about. Personal things are going to come up. You may be good friends, you may not, but you need to be able to listen to, and support each other as caring adults regardless.
2.)
Spend a lot, and I mean a LOT of time talking
before you actually start writing.
Talk about what excites you about the project. Be very clear, and unified about
what the theme of your story is. Exchange movies, books, music, etc. that you
think are relevant and inspiring to your project. Create a VERY detailed
outline for your story. Talk about the characters. This can last for weeks. The
more unified you are now – the more heartache you will save later. Talk through
each scene in detail. While you may come up with wonderful things when actually
writing, neither of you should be hugely surprised by plot, structure,
character development/voice, and general action when reading pages the other
has finished.
3.)
Discuss what your writing process will look like. Who will write what? How will rewrites happen?
Are you comfortable with the other person making changes to scenes you have
written, or do you want them to run all changes by you first? How do you each
like to receive criticism? How do you both like to structure? Can you combine
your methods?
4.)
Stick to the process you have decided upon.
5.)
Be generous with your collaborator, and go out of
your way to understand and support their process. In theory, they should be doing the same for you.
If they have a favorite book on writing, and always use the basic outline said
book suggests – read the book. Likewise, pass on materials that have become a
part of your vocabulary. Read everything the other has written. Learn their
strengths and weaknesses – but only as a means towards better collaboration.
Above all, support them. Go see their shows. In essence, be the best
boyfriend/girlfriend ever.
6.)
Despite the marriage and boyfriend/girlfriend
analogy, NEVER become romantically involved with your collaborator. There are two exceptions. 1.) If you have
finished work on a particular project and are not actually in the process of
writing together. 2.) If you are 110% sure that said romance will end in
marriage. Long lasting, forever marriage. Remember, co writers are co writers for life. There’s no such
thing as true “divorce.”
7.)
Be honest. If something is done, or said in a way that upsets you, be
sensitively up front about it as soon as possible. Don’t get angry, but calmly
explain how said action affected you, and try to resolve it quickly. You don’t
want things to boil up between you. This way you can also learn more about your
collaborator, and can develop a stronger shorthand between you. Honesty also
means keeping promises. If you say you will have a scene to your collaborator
by Friday morning – make sure they have it by Friday morning at the latest.
Of course emergencies happen, but by and large you should be on time, preferably
early. Don’t be the one who has to be given fake deadlines to make sure you
actually get things in on time. As Neil Gaiman says, “You must have two of the
following three to be successful: Talented, On Time, or Nice. You can be
talented and nice, but not on time. You can be on time and nice, but not
talented, etc.” I’ll go a step further and suggest you keep all your bases
covered. Be talented, on time, AND nice. It’ll only help you.
You and your collaborator
will be on intimate terms, whether you like it or not. In a dream scenario,
your work will be picked up by a producer, and be very successful. But keep in
mind, as wonderful as that may be, you and your collaborator will be jointly
responsible for every decision a writer has to make. There is no swing vote. There’s
no majority rules. You both must agree on a director, cast, design team and
concept, contractual negotiations, etc. You will disagree about something,
somewhere, and you need to know you’re working with a person you can come out
the other side of it with. No matter what your personal relationship you will
still have to attend opening nights/premiers with this person, do interviews
with them, if your work is successful – forever.
2.)
Separate But Equal Collaboration
While many of the same rules
apply, this kind of collaboration has a little more wiggle room. This type of
collaboration refers to situations where the collaborators, while equal
contributors, do not have the same job. The best example is in musical theater.
You might have one person writing the book (script), one writing the lyrics,
and one writing the music. Often you may have one person writing the book AND
lyrics, and another writing the music – in which case more of the co writing
issues above come into play, since there is no tie breaker in decision making.
However, because the work, though collaborative, exists in two different
mediums (words and music) it is more possible to separate responsibility and
contribution. On the flip side, you may have multiple composers, or even
composer lyricists.
A word of warning. Due to
slightly grey copy write laws musicals very frequently are considered “joint
works” whether the contributions can be separated or not. This is helpful in
one respect – namely producers can’t try to play collaborators against each
other, but difficult if there is a genuine desire by both parties to separate
their work. This gets fuzzy, and is something to be discussed before entering
into a collaboration.
But in essence, if I have
written music for a song, and I don’t like the lyricist I’m working with, I can
always take my music and have someone else do new lyrics. Case in point –
Andrew Lloyd Webber replacing the original “Phantom of the Opera” lyricist with
lyricist Charles Hart. You do have to be careful of copy write infringement –
the new lyrics must be truly new lyrics, but it is possible to separate your
work. It also means you, or your collaborator(s) can be fired. In the play I’m
currently co writing – the production team could, in theory (though this gets
into tricky legal water as well since a playwright does have the option to
withdraw their contribution and keep a show from opening if they don’t like the
way a production is going) if I am causing major problems, ban me from
rehearsal – but they couldn’t ever fire me. If, however, someone has only
contributed in one area, it is possible to replace them (within legal
parameters.)
But, on the whole, the
same rules apply as in the section on co authorship. The not needing to be
friends, I think, applies even more here, since you are all doing different
jobs. I have several composers who I collaborate with often. I like them all
very much. But I will decide who to approach on a new project based on how
right I think their style is for the show, not on who I most want to hang out
with. Sometimes that may mean working with somebody completely new. But it’s
about the work first. And I always go through both checklists listed above.
3.)
Ensemble Collaboration
This refers to all other
types of collaboration: designers and directors, actors and actors, actors and
directors, writers and directors, basically everything that goes on in a
rehearsal process.
Actors and designers are
in a unique position in that, most often they are being hired, as opposed to being
part of a mutual decision to form an equal collaboration. But no matter in what
capacity you’re going to be working with someone, this is one of the most
important pieces of advice I can give. And it most especially relates to
writers deciding to work with a director (since they will literally be handing
their “baby” over to this director, and have them interpret their work.)
You ready?
If you decide to collaborate with someone – you
must give them your full trust. If you do not fully trust them – DON’T WORK
WITH THEM!
We’ve all seen it.
Writers who are completely uncompromising in the rehearsal room, not listening
to feedback, treating each word as solid gold. Actors who argue about a scene’s
interpretation, directors who constantly criticize actors, etc. This can stem
from a lot of things but, I think, it boils down to trust. Someone doesn’t
trust someone else to do their job. Either this is coming from naïveté and
insecurity, or it’s because the person in question really DOESN’T know how to
do their job. Only you can decide which it is. If it’s incompetence, you
shouldn’t be working with them. If they in fact are doing a good job, then you
need to start acting like a collaborator.
In the best
circumstances, everyone in a rehearsal room should be treated as an equal
collaborator. Here are some suggestions to help that happen:
1.)
Treat everyone as equal. Treat everyone as
collaborators. This means
that you are not the most important person in the room. Likewise, your opinions
are just as important as everyone else’s. Stick to your area of focus (i.e.
don’t start giving inappropriate suggestions for things that don’t concern you)
but, when it is appropriate, feel free to be a part of the conversation. And if
you are the director, if you really treat everyone as a collaborator you will
do worlds for the quality of the show, and morale. Be a benevolent leader. Not
a dictator.
2.)
Know when it’s appropriate to say your piece. My general advice is this: Once you’re in the
rehearsal room, the director is the captain of the ship. Unless something they
say confuses you to the degree that you will not be able to do what is being
asked (in which case ask for clarification), just get on with it. However, make
time before rehearsal to make sure you get to share anything you think is
important. When I am the writer, I always sit down with a director well before
rehearsals begin and share everything I could ever want to say about my work.
We talk about it. Then I know that the director has all the information I have,
and can trust that it will be utilized when necessary while working on the
show. The same as an actor. Usually you’ll have time during table work, but
when I’m acting I will have a discussion with the director where we can get on
the same page, and I can ask questions before blocking starts. If you’re
directing – you should make sure you’re getting together with the writer,
actors, musical director, etc. before rehearsal. If something comes up in
rehearsal that you disagree with, especially as the writer, I highly suggest
asking if you can have a chance to discuss it after rehearsal – AWAY FROM THE
REST OF THE COMPANY. Again, all collaboration is in some ways like a marriage.
Keep disagreements private.
3.)
Be a giving collaborator, not a taking
collaborator. How can you
most effectively help your collaborators do THEIR job to the best of their
ability? Go out of your way to make their job as easy as possible. If they need
something, be happy and eager to do it.
4.)
Know how to ask for what you need. If you need more time to work on something, ask
for it. If you need time to discuss an issue, ask for it. If you need extra
help, ask for it. If you need to hear your harmony again, ask. A professional
is someone who knows what they need, and asks. Do your job efficiently, but
know what will best help you to do it. Unless you’re asking for things
constantly, no one will begrudge giving you what you need. Hey, helping you be
your best means making the whole show better. And it’s so much nicer then just
having to guess that someone needs something. It’ll be more of a problem if you
never speak up. Then nothing will ever get accomplished. It’ll eventually come
out during tech when there’s no time to do anything about it. Then everyone
will just be frustrated.
5.)
Be willing to try anything once. Unless you feel unsafe, or do not feel that the
suggestion is coming from any sort of trustworthy place (in which case, see
“don’t work with someone untrustworthy,”) try anything once. Try that new line.
Try the new objective. Try adjusting that scene. The worst that can happen is
it doesn’t work, and you go back to what you were doing before. Be brave.
6.)
Stand up for your work, when truly appropriate. AFTER the “try everything once” rule – if you
REALLY feel strongly about something, say so. The more giving, and generous you
are, the more you’re apt to be respected when you do (nicely) give a strong
opinion about something. Then it’s everyone else’s turn to exercise the “try
everything once” rule. It’s only fair.
7.)
Listen to the feedback you’re getting. This is especially for writers. You don’t have
to listen to HOW people are telling you to fix something, but if multiple
people are consistently telling you to fix something, you need to listen. Try
to get down to the essence of WHAT is not clear. Sometimes that means asking
questions and translating a comment into vocabulary that’s helpful for you. Then
it’s your job to fix it however you think is best. But if there’s an issue,
don’t ignore it. And whatever you do, don’t try to justify it by blaming it on
the acting, directing, line reading, or anything else. Your work should be
actor/director proof. Then having great actors/directors will only make it
better. Remember, your theme – your reason for doing the show won’t change. But
there are a thousand ways to express it. I like to think of it like doing a
crossword puzzle: the clue won’t change, but there are many, many words that
could work as the answer. You just have to find the one that fits in the
allotted space. But the clue never changes. Same with theme – and that’s why
you started working on the show in the first place.
8.)
Be humble. Seriously. Make humble your default setting.
9.)
Be confident. But remember, humility still comes first. Be
humbly confidant.
10.) Learn from everyone.
11.) The show is the most important thing. The show is more important then you, or anyone
else. Everything must be in service of the show.
The rules above become
somewhat of a mute point when you are NOT working with capable, trustworthy
artists. In those instances focus on #8, 9 and 11. But do what needs to be done
to protect the show. But always make it a learning experience. WHY did you find
yourself in this situation? How can you try to prevent it from happening again?
Collaboration, like any
meaningful relationship, can be challenging, but hugely rewarding. Be the kind
of collaborator you want to have, and above all remember that this is a
business relationship. Treat it as such.
And I leave you with
this:
“The secret is to gang up on the problem, rather
than each other.”
—Thomas Stallkamp
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