Socio-political
animals like Darren O’Donnell have an innate sanction
for change in this world. Get him started on grandiose ideas
revolving around distribution of income or the similarities between
ourselves and 9/11 hijackers and you’re bound to walk away with
a tailored perspective. The punctilious playwright is no issue-driven
browbeater; he simply loves an exchange of dialogue regardless of the
subject matter’s latitude.
Last
summer’s Talking Creature event, a gathering
O’Donnell marshaled to compensate for the absence of physical
interactive venues across the city, was a hit among visual artists
and the literary types but was largely ignored by theatre
enthusiasts. The idea was for people to show up and do inevitably
what comes natural—talk. He called it a test of the social
sphere and the results were impressive.
After
premiering a new solo show A Suicide Site Guide to the City
in Alberta earlier this year, a performance piece that has also
taken him to Scotland, Darren O’Donnell appears
to be moving away from theatre at the present time although you would
be hard pressed to get him to admit that.
The
artist who has given audiences such revolutionary plays as White
Mice, [boxhead], and pppeeeaaaccceee,
is a staunch accessory to his own writing rules and not those
established by the playwrighting greats that came before him. He’s
anti-character as ever when developing stories and referring to
Darren O’Donnell as “experimental” remains a
four-letter word.
In ‘Playmaking - A Manual for
Craftsmanship,’ William Archer says, "Specific directions
for character-drawing would be like rules for becoming six feet high.
Either you have it in you, or you have it not." Do you agree
or disagree?
It seems to me like
anything—it can be learned. With practice, anyone can get
better at what they can do as far as I can tell. At least that’s
the premise in John Mighton’s book The Myth of Ability. He
takes math and proves that any kid can be brilliant at in. I would
think it would be the same for any creative endeavour.
On a personal level,
I’m not interested as much in character. With pppeeeaaaccceee,
I didn’t even have any characters. I was simply writing
dialogue for three voices. I didn’t want the voices to be
distinguishable. I wanted the force of the actor’s personality
to be the character. It was interesting when that show was staged
because people would say that I wrote the funniest lines for Greg
MacArthur. That wasn’t true. Greg MacArthur was the funniest
person on stage.
So people would
attribute that I had done subtle character writing when I had done
none at all. When I was writing it, I didn’t even write
character names. I just wrote dialogue.
I’m a little
tired of characters because theatre is too fake right now. Most
theatre hasn’t really taken into account philosophical
advancements in the past fifty years and hasn’t registered
post-modernism at all.
In plays, there’s
this question of cohesive subjectivity that we can see that is
unified in this way. That’s not how anybody experiences life.
My beliefs are mutable and transmittable and who I am is constantly
changing. If I hang around with somebody, I’ll adopt their
beliefs and points of view. We’re permeable. And I don’t
find that the way character is depicted—as we watch this
three-dimensional entity that is separate from us—that it’s
inaccurate or truthful.
Speaking of his work methods, Henrik Ibsen
said, "When I am writing I must be alone.” Do you isolate
yourself from others when you write?
I do on occasion but
theatre is a highly collaborative medium. People’s feedback
always shapes the final product.
Chris Abraham really
shaped [boxhead]. Bruce Hunter really helped shape White Mice.
Everyone on pppeeeaaaccceee helped shape pppeeeaaaccceee. Rebecca
Picherack really shaped A Suicide Site Guide to the City. That
play, by the way, was mostly written on airplanes, which I talk about
in the show.
In conceiving a new idea for a play what point do you tend
to start from?
Generally just dialogue.
In White Mice, for example, there was
a mouse from an earlier play that I had written and I wanted to write
something for him because it was an interesting character. I started
the dialogue between two mice; I didn’t even know it was going
to be about racism at that point. When I started [boxhead], it was
just one guy talking to an audience about waking up with a box on his
head.
It is said that Arthur Miller used to type a one-sentence
controlling idea for his plays and then tape it to his typewriter and
constantly refer back to it during the writing process. How
important is establishing a clear controlling idea when you write or
will dialogue always rule the day?
With pppeeeaaaccceee, the rule was
that I could never have any conflict. Everyone had to be nice to each
other all the way through the play. There was no conflict, plot, or
character. Can I write dialogue that was compelling without those
three things? That was the challenge on that one.
There is a wonderful phrase of William
Faulkner's that goes suggests if one is to write stronger prose one
must ‘kill your darlings.’ Are there any 'darlings,'
meaning scenes or characters that you have had to drop from your
plays in favour of story structure?
Oh yeah, constantly. There are always
things that are really lovely but are slightly off topic. Or they’re
screwing around with the rhythm or simply redundant.
But killing them is something that is
easy to do after you’ve written a few plays and you have to
sacrifice a few jokes to benefit the whole of the project.
You’ve stated that dialogue is the piston for your work.
Do you ever establish a reference point when you start writing a new
play?
I’m always trying to engage with
what’s going on around me and interact with that in a way that
on one level is aggressive but that’s also affecting some sort
of movement in a direction where I’d prefer things to go. So
changing the world is this idiotic mandate that I have going on.
What's more difficult for you when writing a play---starting
it or ending it?
Ending it.
When you’re starting a play—it’s
a blank slate, you can go anywhere. But when you’re finishing
it, elements have to fall into place in a satisfying way. I can’t
imagine anyone disagreeing with that.
Can Darren O’Donnell produce conventional
theatre?
I have to call you a little bit on
that question. I get a bit annoyed with what’s deemed
conventional.
Everyone’s always calling my
sh*t experimental but I’d prefer you call my work ‘theatre’
and you call that regular stuff ‘old theatre’ or ‘boring
theatre.’ Make that the exception, don’t make me the
exception.
No, I don’t want to write a
regular play. When is the last time Robert Lepage wrote a regular
play but no one ever says his plays are experimental? The same goes
for Daniel MacIvor—he’s formally messing around with
stuff all the time.
In light of your new book that was recently released and
the screenplay that you’ve written, are you beginning to move
away from theatre?
No, I’m just supplementing.
It’s hard to make a living at
this thing. Especially when you work like I do and produce your own
work. I’m not interested in most of what’s going on in
theatre. I’m interested what’s going on in literature
and visual arts.
The most fun I’ve had recently
in performance areas is performance talk. This means going to a
gallery and having an artist doing a slide show talking about their
work. A Suicide Site Guide to the City is almost like an artist’s
talk. There’s a segment where I show a video and talk about my
neighbourhood. It’s inspired more by performance art than it is
theatre.