We’re the kids in America #1: Interview with Eliza Bent

At last! An interview. In case you’re just now tuning in, I’ve had a hankering to start interviewing my friends, because I’m always up for new ideas and hearing what they have to say. Because they’re brilliant. Which brings me to Eliza Bent: one of the few individuals who comes to mind when I actually think of the word “brilliant.” She’s cheeky, folks, just so you know, but we wouldn’t want her any other way. And even if you don’t read this interview, be assured that you will hear her name soon, because this gal is going big places.

Liz M: E-liza, tell the people about yourself! What are you into?

Eliza Bent: My name is Eliza Bent. I am of average height but superlative strangeness. Just kidding. I’m very regular. I grew up in Brookline, Massachusetts. I went to school there. Then I lived in Italy for a bit and now I live in New York and work at a theatre magazine. We are a niche publication… (but then, isn’t theatre a niche art?) I also do theatre projects here and there. I hesitate to call myself an “actor”—I do not have “training”—and my stage antics are too populist and rag-tag for such a moniker. Rather, I am a performer. I do a bunch of stuff with a group called Half Straddle. And I have a fake company called Thinking Person’s Theater.

LM: Yo momma is a group called Half Straddle. Ok, so, to the meat. I think about the pros and cons of graduate degrees daily, and I know we’ve talked a little bit about this before. What drove the decision to enter your MFA program?

EB: Ooh right. I am a bit of a playwright too. I am in playwriting school at Brooklyn College. It is very part-time and the vibe is very opposite of my undergraduate education… But you ask about my motivations for why I applied and I will tell you. In 2007 I read this great little short story (“Magda Mandela”) in The New Yorker by Hari Kunzru and I thought—‘This has to be adapted to the stage!’ I showed the story to a few people who politely nodded and didn’t do diddly. I realized I had to do it myself. But I’m a busy person and kept putting it off. Then one day, the internet was out at my job (big surprise in not-for-profit magazine land!) and I thought, ‘just as an exercise, I will take a stab at adapting the short story.’ A few months later, I had a mini read-through among intimate friends and they gave me feedback, some was ignored and some was digested. Then I heard a friend had a piece in the undergroundzero festival in NYC and I thought, ‘Gosh darnit, so should I!’ (Most often it is an unexplainable jealous/competitive streak that motivates me to do anything.) So I got in touch with the curator of the festival and the author of the short story and voilà. The play, She of the Voice, was made. I produced it and tinkered with the script and a whole gaggle of pals performed in it. And the funny thing was, it was immensely terrifying and satisfying. I had the distinct sensation that my artistic compass had shifted. (I know, barf!) But it is the truth. Various friends and acquaintances said, ‘So, now you are a playwright!’

LM: Cool. Yeah, I have many thoughts, good and bad, about MFAs. (Although admittedly a playwriting MFA would be awesome, but isn’t available where I live.) What’s your take on the infamous MFA?

EB: Yeah about MFAs. I always thought MFAs were a little sad and for lame-os. For a while I was dying to go to acting graduate school but couldn’t justify the cost and never could muster the courage to audition. How mortifying. Anyway, I knew a bunch of people who’d been in the Brooklyn College program (helmed by Mac Wellman and Erin Courtney). So I had a chat with Mr. Wellman, to sort of dip half of a foot into the pool. And it was invigorating and I got excited about the idea of entering into an MFA endeavor. Being as busy as I am, I realized I wanted/needed a structure with deadlines that would help me make more plays. (And, since I studied philosophy during my undergraduate days, I wanted to study in a slightly more formalized setting.) Not that the Brooklyn College program is formal per say. We just meet every Tuesday. Plus, tuition is super cheapy. I can go even on my not-for-profit salary. Ooh and I also applied to Julliard, which is free, but that place seemed a bit more corporate scary. Although, I’d probably be saying Brooklyn College is bohemian barfy had the reverse happened. So yeah. Sorry to be so long-winded. But deciding to enter an MFA is complex! And I didn’t even commit to it until I showed up for that first class, you know? I still consider it all a hobby.

LM: It’s probably more useful to ask this of a non-theater-person, but I’m curious to ask anyway. When you think of “the American theatre,” what comes to mind?

EB: Well… first a very strange and jankity publication comes to mind. Heh. So does a lot of “good intentions” and “attempts.” Quoi d’autre? Ooh the “regional theatre movement” …. Eek! I am not even sure what that is. Psychological realism, Tennessee Williams and a great experimentalism comes to mind—both the annoying and not-so-annoying kinds of experimentalism. I think about improv and music concerts and musical theatre. I think about how musical theatre is really fun to make. And I think how it would be cool to make a new kind of theatre with music (and moves) in it but a kind that is not “cheesy” in the way that many musicals are. I also think about the plethora of university programs for young actors and how it’s sort of a shame that most people can’t make money from being a full-time artiste. I mean, I am a full-time dreamer but I don’t get paid for that. Heh.

LM: Tee hee, aren’t we all. Ok, as you know, NY’s dominance is something I continue to mull over a lot. What do you think works really well about the NY scene? What makes it unique?

EB: If you are serious about theatre, then at some point you consider a move to New York City. That is both good and bad because I generally don’t like serious people! Still, there are good serious people and less good ones everywhere you go. I think what is good about the NY world of theatre is that it’s so big and that it can offer something for all kinds of theatre enthusiasts/makers/professionals. On any given night there are a trillion different things to see/do. That can be overwhelming and also freeing.

A few weeks ago I saw an old pal I’d been in a play with in Boston a few years ago and there were other Boston theatre people who I’d never met before. When I told them about my involvement with theatre (where I work, shows I’m involved with, and how I’m in school) a little glaze of haze and confusion fell over their faces. They did Broadway, and regional tours of The Wizard of Oz, and voiceover work. It wasn’t a mean haze, just one of mild curiosity. It was nice to learn and talk with them about their experiences, which are so vastly different from mine. For example, I don’t really ever “audition” for things—so it was interesting to hear about how people actually do that. And a bit hard to explain that the stuff I am involved with is not audition-centric. (For better or worse) I don’t know how well I explained “downtown” stuff to them, and I feel pretentious to say that, but it was good to try. It’s always good to articulate what world you play a part in. Also, there are companies in NYC that are much more akin to “community theatre” and that’s great. There really is something for everyone in this Big Bad Apple, and that’s what makes it unique. What I like best is that usually when I see a show, I run into someone I know and that makes me feel good and kind of cool, especially when I take a non-theatre friend. I suppose that goes to show how lame I am.

LM: Gah! There aren’t enough hours in the day to discuss NY and downtown theater for me. I get pretty weird about it. I guess part of me wishes I had had the desire to stay, because it’s still where the bigwig theater people live. But I do believe strongly in decentralization … and being near trees. Moving on. I’d like to know: what would you change about the theater-universe if you could?

EB: Dios mio! What kind of a question is this? I am all about the Platonic forms but it’s almost too maddening to think about what I would change when it comes to theatre… and for that matter… Theatre. From my own experience, I would make everyone have the same schedule. I would make non-theatre friends understand how dumb and crazy the theatre world is so that they comprehend just how much time/energy/effort rehearsal takes. I would make free rehearsal space for everyone! And so long as this is Ideal I would pay everyone One Million Dollars to make their theatre. I would get rid of “Obligation Theatre” – people would only go to the shows they want to attend. “No more obligation theatre!” would be the slogan of Eliza Theatre Universe. Ooh I would make theatre/er spelled just one way! And all theatre would be amazing, because there’s nothing that’s much worse than bad theatre.

LM: Yeah Miz Amerika! Maybe we can just spell it “theatrer” and call it a day. And speaking of “The Theatre”-with-a-capital-T, what compels you to stick with it?

EB: Another fine, if slightly maddening, question. Quite simply, there is nothing else that gives me such a thrill as to perform. I really feel quite alive when I do that. I get nervous and delighted when I see theatre. I turn a shade of magenta when I hear my own work read out loud. I stick with theatre because it’s really fucking fun.

Hey look! It’s Eliza doing theater! And singing!

 

 

 

Look, here she is doing more theater! I like her hat.