BWW INTERVIEWS: Rose Martula, Writer Of BROOKLYN

Photo of BROOKLYN by Felix Kunze

How did you get into writing plays?

I tried every other single thing one can think of in order to not write. My mother was - is - an actress and a playwright, and being the little devil that I was, I think I did everything to avoid writing in a way. From photography to soccer to oceanography to playing drums, philosophy, or wanting to be a rock'n'roll star, you name it. Just get me away from writing. But in pre-school I made up my own language before I really knew how to write, and I guess it was real because apparently my teachers made me read a story I had written out loud in class twice, and I read it basically verbatim. Writing dialogue has always felt the most comfortable place for me, it came easiest, almost like I wasn't even doing the writing. But growing up in a house surrounded by bookshelves of plays and fiction and seeing films and going to the theatre to see my mom, I owe so much to. My mind and world was open to almost everything at a very young age.

You've picked up lots of awards along the way and great critical acclaim - do you ever worry about the weight of expectation, or disappointing your audience?

It is very easy for a playwright, when bombarded with critiques, to get lost and muddled in all the feedback, critical acclaim, pressures of success, etc. Everyone has an opinion, but you're the one writing the play, and you're not a secretary. For instance, I have one former teacher who I go to, someone who speaks my same artistic language and who obviously champions the work, and limit it basically to him and my dramaturg or director who I go to as advisors on the work. I worry most about disappointing myself and not living up to my potential. I think when I hit 30, something clicked in me - I started really not stressing out or caring what others thought, not just in my writing, but in life.

And what's more important, pleasing the paying audience or the critics?

The paying audience! Simply for the reason that when a character makes a choice in a play, it exposes the moral core of the play to the audience, and allowa them to begin to align themselves with or against the characters. At the pivotal climactic choice, when a character realises clearly that he or she must make a choice, hopefully, this will help to make that character a tragic character. It elevates them out of mere pathos. By forcing them to make a really tough moral choice - by clarifying that moment, removing the greys and making it as black and white as possible - we elevate them from reactionary animal to thinking, reasoning, moral sentient human being with a Tragic Flaw. The story of their demise becomes a true tragedy that will hopefully touch something deeper in the audience, inspiring more than pity. Regardless of what that character chooses, if the audience sees and can understand the morality of the choice, they will be both profoundly saddened and will also feel uplifted and hopeful.

Tell me about Brooklyn - how did you get the idea for the play?

I was able to write the play, Brooklyn, after not only experiencing grief and loss in my own life, but by observing friends and family members go through the same mind-numbingly, painful process as well. Regardless if it were a long-ago or more recent loss - and by loss, I don't always mean a literal death; loss of love, friendship, parents who abandon, and so on - it always stunned and fascinated me which ones chose to attempt to heal and carry on, and which turned so destructive; the loss all but stopped their lives, poisoning much if not all of the human connections they'd strived to make.

One thing was in common, though: there seemed a yearning in all of us, that at first, there would be no hope of ever connecting again, as if one was having to choose between the living and the dead. I often felt I was witnessing individuals in the grips of their circumstances, unable to make choices that would free them from their own oppressions, and I got the sense I was watching them move as though they were fated - that there was no choice but to end up where they did. And yet, then there were those that chose life, the individuals who were able to regain some semblance of hope. I have often run from people in my own pain, but in the end, I realise, what most are we probably going to remember? The human connections we've made in our lives. And so during the process of wrestling to write and tame the beast on the page that is Brooklyn, I realised I couldn't write anything else, before I was able to release this particular emotional experience.

Being described as the Chekhov of your generation - that must be a lovely compliment but quite a lot of pressure for you?

Who's Chekhov?

Rose Martula's BROOKLYN plays at the c*ckTavern Theatre, Kilburn, until September 26.

 

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