Archives for February 2011

I thought some people would enjoy reading a bit about my experience adapting this piece. Well, maybe not enjoy … Anyway, here’s the unvarnished moment.

It’s an understatement to say that I love this comic, this work. Skyscrapers the Midwest is a story, or a set of stories, that has added a lot to my life already. And ha already done, even before I became involved with it in the creative way. And so it has been with great trepidation, in many ways, that I have appraoched the creation of this adaptation.

It’s a delicate relationship that we have to some pieces of art, and I knew that, in some ways, I would be destroying my relationship with this book in the process of creating something new. That sounds sad, doesn’t it? But it’s happened before and I know it will happen again. Hopefully though, other people will form new, helpful, moving relationships with Josh Cotter’s world and his work, and everyone will move forward enhanced in some way. I’ll be focussing on what I’ve gained, far more than I what I’ll lose.

(I’m imagining that he’s going to hate reading that paragraph, if he does. As a particularly thoughtful artist, he’s well aware of the risk at which we all put ourselves of becoming too precious or too matyred when we discuss things like pain, and loss, and our souls. As if The Artist is anymore damaged or unique than anyone else. No one wants to be aware of their own Christ complex.)

At any rate… (or insert your own poor executed transitional phrase)

I’ve been tearing the book to bits, re-arranged pieces, cutting out dialogue, mashing-up images, and even cramming some of Josh’s adult persona into the mix, turning into something that might even be less than what it is in book form, hoping that I get enough of it right that I don’t seem like a fraud in the end. Hoping I won’t make Josh (or anyone else involved) look bad. I mean, the guy’s parents are in the show, they’re gonna see this. Would you want the pressue of playing one of those roles? Some poor actors … alas and alack.

I suppose that would be something to aim for, to reach for, wouldn’t it? If we could make our interpretation true enough that it works, yet separate enough that it doesn’t spoil any of the books allure or mysteries. I guess one big indicator of our success will be whether I actually want to read to the book again a week after the show closes. It’s not that I think the book won’t hold-up, I just fully expect it cause self-recriminations when it serves to jog my memory about the show.

We’re probably adapting two more books next season, so I have those regrets to look forward to as well.

I know this hasn’t been excellent marketing, but for those who want a look into what goes on in someone’s psyche at a moment like this, here ya go. It’s a hall of funhouse mirrors. Minus the fun.

I read Josh Cotter’s “Skyscrapers of the Midwest” comics in early 2008. (You can buy the collected version here.) After reading the book several times, I started thinking about making it into a play. Theatre and comics don’t seem to have a lot in common on the surface, but I actually think the needs and strengths of the mediums are very similar. Most importantly, in my opinion, to both mediums (at least as I enjoy them) is a strong sense of connection and intimacy.

When you read a comic like Skyscrapers, you get really, really close to the moment of creation. It’s almost as if the artist has simply drawn the page and passed it across the table to you. There’s almost nothing that comes between you and the artists’ intentions.

And Josh’s art takes full advantage of this closeness, pushing the vulnerability of the characters and the artist in the process to an almost uncomfortable level. It’s not a book you can read with unemotional detachment, especially if you have any notion of the kind of childhood isolation that Cotter’s writing about.

The best theatre works the same way. In fact, in the theatre, you’re actually present at the moment of creation, you’re even a participant in the process. Sure, there’s a lot of preparation in rehearsal, a lot of technical work done ahead of time to get the performance ready (That’s true for comics too, just ask Josh about his sketchbooks.) but “theatre” doesn’t happen until the audience arrives and the artists do their thing, and the art is what happens in the space between the actor saying his lines and the audience receiving them. How much more intimate a creative process could there be?

So, that’s what was in my head when I tracked Mr. Cotter down on the internet and emailed him out of the blue to see if he’d be interested in seeing his book as a play. I don’t know what possessed him to say yes, but he did. And he’s been really open and supportive ever since. What happens next? We’re pretty curious too.

I spent dark, snowy January week in Missouri, 80 miles north of Kansas City, in a beautiful locale where you could stand on top of a hill and see nothing but snow in every direction. (Well, snow and maybe a wind farm, more on that later…)

I was very privileged to be a guest of the Cotter family at their home near Barnard, MO. Josh and I spent many hours talking in front of a microphone in their living room, we ate more Japanese food than I expected (courtesy of Momoko’s skills) and walked over their 80 acres of land seeing no other living soul except a pair of hunters, dressed head to toe in snow-patterned camouflage. It was a wonderful escape from my life for a few days, and certainly the best way to better understand the setting of Josh’s stories.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the trip.

It was early 2008, I read a lot of blogs about comics and I had one of my own (titled “Comic Books and Hip-Hop.” Guess what we wrote about?) Over at Comics Should Be Good, I read a review by good-ol-d-reliable Brian Cronin of something with a really intriguing title. After acquiring the reviewed issue, I started my own review this way: “This book is amazing and beautiful. Amazingly beautiful. Go buy it right now. I’ll wait.”

Here’s how the rest of it went. (It’s archived here, for the record.)

This book is amazing and beautiful. Amazingly beautiful. Go buy it right now. I’ll wait.

It was something like 67 degrees today, a freakishly warm day. So, I sat on my couch, opened the front door and windows, and pulled out Joshua W. Cotter’s newest masterpiece.

I bought it based on Brian Cronin’s recommendation. (He also did a nice review of the book when it came out almost three months ago.)

At any rate. If you have any inkling towards non-super-hero work, you should pick this up. And yes, they’re working on a collected edition, but who knows how long that will take? You need to improve your life today, right?

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