Movement

I've been doing a lot of thinking of what scenes to present in "All Grace," but haven't asked myself the question of "What conflicts exist in those moments?" Everything that I've written so far feels right to me. All the scenes that I want to show feel right to me, but I don't think I can fully answer the question of "What's the conflict?" I can barely answer the question "What's the story?" Well, I can answer it, but not in a way that satisfactorily describes the journey I want the audience to take. It's about seminal, spiritual moments that happen in ordinary life, modern life. Hm. That hits it pretty well, I guess. But I guess the question extends to, "So, what happens?"

"What happens?" We travel through extraordinary parts of people's lives in order to fully show the magnificence, though flawed, grandeur that is Notre Dame de Toute Grace.

New scenes that I would like to include are:

The Virgin Mary's calling by the Angel Gabriel. I see this as some sort of touchstone for the play. Not as much of a cornerstone as Couturier's first monologue, but a place where the themes and thoughts of the play land and rest.

A scene with an ailing Couturier and the Virgin Mary. In most everything I've read, Couturier is sick. I've read letters Couturier wrote to Matisse describing his ailments, apologizing for his weakness, and complaining about being bedridden. I think this scene would be closer to the end of the play. Couturier passed away before he was able to see Lipchitz' Virgin. That seems very important to me.

I want a scene with Leger on the war front. Perhaps the scene in which he is gassed. In my mind, I see Leger narrating the scene as it passes and he lives it. Much like my friend Marnie Glazier used the device in her play "Hum." In that play, children narrated their childhood as they lived it onstage. It struck me as very fulfilling. It was living prose, closer to short story than theatre, but it was walking in front of us. I want that same type of feeling, but it all goes back to the question of conflict. I never fully consider the question of "What is the conflict in this scene?" I would wager that most, if not all, of my colleagues in the playwrights workshop do consider this question before they write. It's a very important question, one that was hammered into me as a directing student. Conflict, Action. Buzzwords of the trade. Where is the conflict in this play?

I want very much to finish this play in the next month. I've been studying and adding to my knowledge. Today, I read Blaise Cendrars' "Easter in New York," which hits on many themes I struggle with. I had hoped to use Cendrars' poetry somehow in the play, but don't know if that's a feasible possibility any longer. I have more reading to do.

With all my reading, I still feel as though my knowledge is inadequate to write this play. I'm not sure if this inadequacy rests in my knowledge of the war, knowledge of France, knowledge of the true modern art sensibilities, knowledge of cubism... Somewhere. Somewhere something is lacking and this feeling of inadequacy is causing me to hesitate in putting more words to the page. Even though what I have already written speaks to me more than many of my other projects. Perhaps I'm afraid at letting myself down with this play. I have such high hopes. "This can be the one!" I suppose nothing fully lives up to expectation and I should just buckle down and get writing.