Vermont Magazine Summer 19 | Page 38

… I didn’t want to be told that. I started looking at all the other kinds of writing that I was interested in. And all the other kinds of work I was interested in, as like an escape hatch - so that if things got really too exhausting to stand up too in one area, I could go concentrate on a different kind of work. Sherman: So – when was the first time that you felt validated as a playwright? Rebeck: It probably was when Alan Rickman said he wanted to do a reading of my play, Seminar. And so we did it. We did a private reading with Alan in the central part. And I had a group of younger actors who I worked with on other projects and we gathered and read it at The Lark [Theatre Company] in one of the rooms and it was a powerful experience for me. And then … for him to say he wanted to do it and take it to Broadway was truly extra- ordinary. I learned a lot from that guy. Sherman: So what were some of the things you learned? Rebeck: He had a very rigorous process. And he was constantly pushing at things to see if it could go deeper. And then there would be moments where he would stop himself and go, “That was too far.” There was one moment [in the play]. This one thing thing he did. And I asked him, “Why did you stop doing this one thing? I loved it!” And he said, (im- personating Rickman’s deep resonant voice and calculated pace) “It’s a lot of work.” You know, I mean, it was like four words. And he finally just was like, “I’m not doing that. it was too much work. for FOUR WORDS!” And I don’t blame him. And I liked the way he listened. I think I learned a lot about listening from him and about authenticity and constantly going back and standing on the most authentic choice. …And I’ve [seen] many productions of that play. And I always want to say to everyone, “Slow Down. You’re not going as deep as you can. You are not showing as much of the interior life of these people as can be shown - and still keep it aloft and funny.” You know, I always felt - even before that - that the best comedy left a lot of blood on the floor. And then [Alan] actually said that. …We’d never talked about that [before], but he said, “You know, comedy needs to leave a lot of blood on the floor,” and so, I felt like I was well matched - and encouraged to keep reaching for a kind of excellence in the theater that was both psychologically rigorous and curious and accessible. He really felt like a lot of theater gets a little too easy. And he was never one for that. “I think a writer is like a musician. You have to have an ear.” 36