Day 10 -- Gratitude (again!) for, and from, our playwrights

Another day of gratitude for our playwrights shouldn't be that surprising (we are a playwrights conference, after all!) -- and this fundraising campaign is about making opportunities for playwrights, for giving the time and the resources to work on brave new work. Throughout the campaign, we've received truly wonderful posts of gratitude from past playwrights -- and we're giving over our blog today to them.

Perhaps their grateful words will inspire you to give a small amount, to make sure we can make the opportunities available to future playwrights in 2021 and beyond!​ 

Alexandra Espinoza (Homeridae, 2019)
The amount of generosity, hospitality, support, and encouragement I received as a playwright at Seven Devils is truly hard to quantify. At every step of the way, in every encounter, I always felt like people (actors, directors, dramaturgs, hosts, organizers) sincerely wanted to to see my play grow, and they trusted me to know when that had happened. It's an experience that anyone who takes the scary step of starting an idea in creative isolation deserves to experience--in many ways the conference made the dream of the play come true. I can only hope I get to be in that space again!"

​From Ramón Esquivel (¡O Cascadia!, 2019)
 
"Dedicated writing time is such a departure from my usual way of life, but immersing myself completely in the story world allowed me to complete revise my play. How much writing did I do? My script went from 132 pages to 100, and I think I changed something on every single page of the script we read. Not only that, but I had an entire team that was working to support me through rehearsals and informal conversations over meals. For a working artist like me, Seven Devils was a gift, a recognition that my time and talent were important and valuable."

​From Larry Loebell (Girl Science, 2004)
 
I was first invited to Seven Devils in 2004 as a playwright with my play Girl Science. I returned ten times over the subsequent years as a dramaturg. At each of those conferences, I had the pleasure of being in rehearsal rooms with terrific writers, actors, and directors.  I learned something about the art of playmaking from ever one of those experiences.  My playwriting and my dramaturgical practice got better and deeper as a result of working with the amazing artists who assembled at the Alpine Playhouse for the conferences all those summers in McCall. 

From Michele Raper Rittenhouse (Red Rover, 2009)
 
I worked with some brilliant artists prior to the Seven Devils Conference, but I was constantly bullied on what I should cut, not try, etc.  I felt like a tool to be used rather than an artist with a craft and vision.  And then came Seven Devils. After the first read-through of my play, Red Rover, Chris, and Gay pulled me aside and asked how I felt about the final scene in the play, and if I thought it was needed.  I knew that question was going to come up because I wasn't sure myself until I heard that first read-through.  And my response was, I don't know.  But I do know I feel it needs to be there.  And you all have given me the chance to experiment and find my voice through this story.  So let's keep it in and see what happens.  And it worked.  It was a lesson for me to me and one I pass to my students, use your instincts, and see what happens. 

 Noah Diaz
(You Will Get Sick, 2020; Motherhood Almanac, 2016)

​"What sets Seven Devils apart from other development conferences is their understanding that new scripts are alive, expanding and unfolding in unexpected ways. I have never worked with smarter, kinder, more creative people and I hate that I cannot collaborate with them on every project. They are a gift."

​From Patrick Gabridge (Drift, 2017; Flight, 2011)
 
What I’m most grateful for about Seven Devils is the compassion of the people who run it and are part of it. My first stay at the Conference was for my play, Flight, in 2011. Shortly after I arrived, I was already in deep dramaturgical discussions with my dramaturg, Larry Loebell, and getting to know the Bistro, and hiking with my fellow writers. Unfortunately, after just a few days, I got a call from home that my father-in-law had died very suddenly, at our home in Boston. Paula and the other staff quickly helped make the arrangements to get back home to my wife and our kids. The kindness and understanding that permeates the whole Conference in their treatment of new plays and playwrights, was magnified in this moment of personal crisis. They helped make an unbearable situation a little more manageable and I will always be grateful.
 
Of course I’m also thankful that I was able to return with a different play, Drift, in 2017, and it felt like I picked up right where I left off--even though I’d only spent a few days in McCall in 2011, it still felt like the same welcoming community (with great views, hot springs, and ice cream). This time, I got the full Conference experience, relishing every moment. The list goes on. Seven Devils has a special place in my heart.

From Brian Watkins  (General Store, 2012)
Seven Devils was the first place that I felt my work was truly upheld as the important center of the process. A place where writers would crawl out of their respective isolation, into a light of enthusiasm, and even collective reverence, for the playwright’s work. When I had doubts about my play, Seven Devils countered with creative support. My play left McCall with wind in its sails. For that, I am forever grateful.

​From James McLindon  (Faith, 2008)
The two weeks I spent at Seven Devils were among the best, most productive times of my professional life and one for which I'll always be grateful. It would have been enough to have a first-rate director, cast, dramaturg and other theater artists devoted to helping me discover what my play was all about and how best to realize its potential. But Seven Devils was and is so much more than that: a generous community of artists with whom one stays connected long after one leaves McCall.

​From Duane Kelly  (The Thing With Feathers, 2009)
 
When I was invited to participate in the 2009 conference, I had been writing plays for eight years or so without gaining much traction in the theatre world. I had little confidence that my playwriting would ever amount to more than a private indulgence.
 
Jeni’s call, asking me to come to McCall, was a pivotal event in my career. It affirmed my life-choice to write plays, and gave me confidence that if I persevered, I could write scripts worthy of professional productions. My time in McCall showed me a responsible, effective play development process. 
 
The result? My plays got better. And there have been real commercial productions.  I have two plays going up at the 2021 Edinburgh Fringe. I am now writing my tenth full-length play. No longer do I wait around for others to embrace and develop my work. I have created a web of dramaturgs, directors, actors, and designers in Seattle that I work with. Five years ago a fellow playwright and I even founded a small theatre company in Seattle that has mounted full productions of our new work.
 
A giant Thank You to Jeni and all the Seven Devils family.

​From Richard Brockman (Informed Consent, 2007)
 
What did Seven Devils actually do?  It let me answer the question, “Am I a playwright?” With an unqualified ‘yes’.  But to say that one is a playwright - that I am a playwright, and that’s it - is absurd.  How many ‘playwrights’ are there in the world?  Playwrights who actually live, work, breath ‘playwright’ from the moment she/he wakes to the moment he/she sleeps, who don’t have to teach, wait tables, dip into savings, raid family trusts, who weren’t Broadway bound by the age of 16?   How many get to be a playwright one hundred percent?   Few.   Very few.  A very lucky few.     
 
Most of us have to find other ways to provide for the roof, the food on the table, the money for a ticket to see a friend’s play.  So, am I a ‘playwright’?  Yes, I am.   Am I a playwright every waking second of the day?   No, but for two weeks one June, in McCall, I was.   And having that gave me the lodestar to know which way lay the dream.  The confidence to say, “Yes, I’m a playwright – but there are other things that I do to feed the parts of who I am.”   The confidence to say, “Yes, I’m a playwright and….”   
 
The confidence to say, “Yes, I am a playwright, and.”