Playwright Monica Bauer on ‘Chosen Child’
Most writers find themes in their own experiences and one way or another, transform them into something less than strict autobiography, and something more than pure fiction. The more I read about playwrights, the more I see that even plays that are not thought of as autobiographical, like Angels in America by Tony Kushner, or Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth, germinated from a true story. Certain themes pop up over and over again as signatures, written in sweat and blood and personal history, for all writers. This particular play of mine is a mix of my personal history and my characters running away with the play for their own purposes.
This workshop production is of a play in progress, still becoming itself, like a puppy growing into its feet. It began in February of 2014 as I struggled to write a memoir, and instead of a book, out popped this play. It’s been popping ever since, from the first private reading for me in a New York rehearsal room, to a pair of staged readings at Stage Left Studio in New York, one of my off-off Broadway home theaters, directed by the great Austin Pendleton. The invitation to bring the play to Boston was incredibly generous on the part of BPT, and I’ll be forever grateful to Kate Snodgrass for allowing me to work on Chosen Child with this terrific director, cast, and crew.
They say that Tennessee Williams brought his mother to the first performance of The Glass Menagerie, and he nervously awaited her verdict on the character of Amanda Wingfield. She is reported to have said something to the effect of “what a silly woman!” either completely unaware that the character was based on her or willing herself to be unaware. Eugene O’Neill famously requested that his family play, Long Day’s Journey Into Night, never be performed and only published 25 years after his death, a request his widow refused to fulfill. I waited until both the real Claudia and Lee were long dead to write this play, and if they are here, haunting the theater, I hope they see the love and forgiveness in this play.
Anybody who’s ever had a mother, whether by birth or by adoption, should be able to find herself or himself in Chosen Child. Memory plays shouldn’t veer off into revenge or score settling; they should be an invitation to the audience to take their own childhood memories out for a spin, to always return to the basic facts of every family: that there is no “normal,” but there is plentiful forgiveness for those Chosen and Not Chosen and for those who Chose or were compelled to Choose.
Don’t miss Monica Bauer’s ‘Chosen Child’, now through November 22. Tickets