BWW Blog: Siobhan O'Loughlin - Los Angeles: A City for Experimental Theatre

Los Angeles: A City for Experimental Theatre

It's honestly by circumstance that I decided to make LA the place for the US premiere of Broken Bone Bathtub. A long story, at that, but it will suffice to say this:

When you are doing a DIY experiment, social media is everything. Literally, everything that can make or break your experience. In this case, it made it.

I'm fortunate enough to know lots of artists in LA. Some of them I went to university with, others are "expats" from New York City, who have moved on to the warm weather, mountainous views and free exercise that an LA hike provides. Others still were friends of friends. Weak connections, at best, but folks I was still confident enough to contact and write to and pose the question that I have now been posing to people quite literally all over the world: Can I borrow your bathtub?

My LA community is honestly incredible. I scrounged up a wide collection of performance nights through the course of three weeks. I tweeted at an excellent website and resource for people doing plays that are not-really-plays called No Proscenium. By opening night, and through some amazing luck and coincidences, I had No Proscenium and LA Weekly both attending the first night of performances, which was beautifully hosted by Christopher Olin.

I met Chris in New York City; he's a friend of a friend. I barely knew him. When I wrote to him his first response was "um WHAAT." And a follow up of "Tell me more." And so we organized an evening of two performances in his gorgeous Burbank home, with a space that could fit nine audience members at a time. He was wonderful. As we spent time in his backyard, gathering succulents to display about the bathroom, and watching him chop fresh tomatoes from his garden that he was serving the guests upon arrival (amidst a variety of hors d'oeuvres), I felt overwhelmed with the gratitude that performing this play has allowed me to experience. What a generous, lovely person Christopher is. Friends, friends of friends, sometimes strangers, have continuously GIVEN their space to me.

I performed at another Chris' house (Chris Zargabashi), this time a friend from undergrad who I hadn't seen in years. A group of 8 sat on the floor in a circle in his bathroom, and after the performance, every single audience member went to the bar together. The same happened at my friend Danielle Cintron's home-a small group, some of whom knew each other, and others' who did not, all stayed for a few hours after the show to share stories and have drinks together in Danielle's living room.

My friend Vinnie and his partner Sarah hosted a show in Baldwin Village (featuring more homemade delicacies like ROASTED CAULIFLOUR HUMMUS WHAT?!) and when one audience member was lost en route, Vinnie hopped on his motorcycle to find her and bring her to the performance. We had a couple whose daughter was on a sleepover, and felt that this would be a proper night out.

Betsy Holt and Martin Blumberg teamed up to host what ended up being a party combined with a performance, with a large community of artists and friends who socialized, ate and drank in the living room, and then came in at different intervals to watch the performance (providing I had enough time to hop out and refill the bath with bubbles). We also got a nice write-up for this particular performance from Gia on the Move. I performed three times that night, for completely different, marvelous groups at each session.

The final performance was hosted by a complete stranger: Ashley Elizabeth Allen, who wrote to me out of the blue and lured me in (like the beautiful siren that she is) to her Long Beach home and we did two shows in her bathroom that comfortably seated 10 people. My friend Adam Brooks and I made the drive out together; he helped me into my cast as we admired her beautiful communal artistic sanctuary of a home, and a plethora of generous, giving, gracious audience members joined in the experience of giving, sharing, and even crying right along with me on that beautiful night in LA. Adam and I had thoughtful, memorable drive back that night into the city center at around 2AM on a Sunday night.

I must admit the fear that I had performing in this city (that I had never been to before) was that I wouldn't meet the standards: I wouldn't be...pretty enough? Cool enough? Hollywood enough? And what I discovered was a fascinating, unique space for a creative subculture that has a lot of love to give. In Betsy's Hollywood apartment, the water slowly drained on me, leaving me a lot more...naked than I'm actually meant to be (believe it or not) and the audience brushed it off right along with me, one young man even taking off his shirt to show us what he felt insecure about, and in some strange sense of solidarity, I felt nurtured in that moment. Following him, more and more men spoke about their bodies and insecurities to the collective. By candlelight, with the gorgeous city sprawling right out the window, Los Angeles provided benevolent kindness. And Noah of No Proscenium is absolutely right: LA has much, much more to offer to experimental artists than a New Yorker might typically believe.