Kendrick, Questlove and justice: The Geffen’s Tarell Alvin McCraney has big dreams for L.A. theater
‘The Brothers Size’ kicks off the Geffen Playhouse’s first season under artistic director Tarell Alvin McCraney, who says he’s just getting started.
Twenty years ago — long before he won the Oscar for co-writing the film “Moonlight” — playwright, screenwriter and recently appointed artistic director of the Geffen Playhouse Tarell Alvin McCraney penned “The Brothers Size,” a modern-day fable about two Louisiana brothers, part of the trilogy “The Brother/Sister Plays.”
In the two decades since, “The Brothers Size” has been produced around the country and starred the likes of Oscar nominee Brian Tyree Henry (“Causeway”) and André Holland (“Moonlight”) among many others.
Now, as Times theater critic Charles McNulty writes in his review, it ushers in the Geffen’s “Tarell Alvin McCraney era” as the first play of his tenure as artistic director. The Times’ Nicholas Ducassi sat down with McCraney just hours before opening night of “The Brothers Size” — running through Sept. 8 — to talk about his inaugural season at the Geffen, his dreams for L.A.’s theater scene and his favorite local coffee spot (so far).
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.
Why did you want L.A. to experience “The Brothers Size” as the first play in your tenure as the artistic director of the Geffen Playhouse?
What’s interesting is this isn’t the first time “The Brothers Size” or “The Brother/Sister Plays” have been in L.A. I wanted to do a production in the style, sense and ore of what I’m excited about: the kind of theater that’s muscular, that is without props and [has a] minimal set, and really dig into the kind of street theater that I grew up doing in order to just make sure that I balance that with a complete season in the Cates Theater, which is what we’re doing with “Dragon Lady,” “Waiting for Godot,” “Noises Off,” “Furlough’s Paradise” and “The Reservoir.” And so I want to make sure that our palette at the Geffen is wide. That we let folks know that we are really here to be the friendly neighborhood playhouse that engages many forms of events. The live event is where we strive to be the best. And so I wanted to start with my best.
You’ve spoken about how your body of work has been influenced by your family’s experience with the justice system, and one of the first things you established was the Theater as a Lens for Justice initiative. Why was starting that program such a high priority for you?
I take the bus to work here. I don’t know [if] many people know that, and every time I say that, folks look at me a little strange. … Every night, when I take the bus, or when I’m on the bus or trying to make it to work, I encounter folks who are either experiencing houselessness or engaged in the system in some way. I also experience people who are on their way to work. What I recognized in that brief moment of time, of passing back and forth, of figuring out a season, is: We have to be able to engage folks at every level of our community.
Our community is made up of everybody. People who are here working, people who are not here working, people who are in struggle and those in between. And I needed to make sure that while we have an apparatus — we have a wonderful subscription program, we have an outreach program with UCLA that we’re strengthening and getting better — I wanted to make sure that we also had something in our platform that reached the parts of the community that may not have access to theater.
As a young person growing up whose family was affected by the justice system, whose brother was incarcerated, whose mother was in rehab, I didn’t get access to theater. Not theater that reflected me. And so I needed to make sure that that was happening, that that was a part of my remit, and it’s one of many initiatives.
Our hope is that when we get folks in the building from every walk of our community, they can start having a conversation differently than, you know, “Get out of my way, I’m headed to the store” or “Move, I need that parking spot.” What are the other things that we can get together and be in true dialogue about? That only happens in the theater. People start walking out and go, “Wait. You saw that? What did you think?” And whether you liked it or not, a dialogue is sparked by the thing in front of you. We imagine ourselves differently when we go into the dark together. I want folks in this community to get in the dark and imagine themselves differently.
Are there any plans to complete the full cycle of “The Brother/Sister Plays”?
Currently, no. The plan is to start with “Brothers Size” and then make room for the other artists that I’m really excited to engage. Folks who are hip-hop theater makers and people who make chamber operas. I’m really interested in looking for those innovators to come into the Audrey space and do live events that you can’t feel or engage anywhere else. I am planning and am currently writing other plays that will probably be in our space. But as far as the trilogy, we don’t have plans for it now. Now, if people really want to, or we really find a need, or if there’s artists who really want to engage it, we’ll think about it for sure.
Wave a magic wand. What does the theater community, in terms of both audiences and institutions here in L.A., look like in five, 10, 15 years? What is your dream?
The dream is happening a little bit. Maybe this is the new kid on the block being naive, but I feel like there’s a connectivity among theaters. There’s a conversation happening. There’s a sharing that’s going on, what with all of the amazing attention toward space and artist development that’s going on — meaning, there’s a shift happening in film and television, and so a lot of artists who are theater-native are coming back into theater spaces and wanting to be able to find a way, a pocket, to honor their theater roots, sharpen their tools, while also still engaging their jobs in film and TV. I think we’re poised now to, even more mightily, to engage that, to focus their attention, to play — for lack of a better word — to genuinely play, and then continue their careers in the other aspects of entertainment.
For example, there are musicians or folks who are vocalists and instrumentalists who are like, “Hey, I want to write a play.” And I’m like, “Yeah, I’m up for it. I’m excited about it.” And because L.A. is a focus point for entertainment, we can all do nutritious work together in that way. I’m excited to see it happening not just here but all over Los Angeles.
I love that phrase, “making nutritious work.”
Absolutely. And that means that that work can go in places that we may not be able to in a building. Maybe we can take “Brothers Size” to a community center and do it in the park. Maybe we can take a musical made by Questlove to a canyon cliff. What are the ways in which we can really engage the fact that we have incredible weather for most of the year and artists who really want to engage people and events that are one-of-a-kind? When Kendrick Lamar led a, sort of, street parade in his neighborhood, I was like, “Yeah, that’s what we’re used to in Miami.” That’s what we’re used to in places where you just engage the art where the people are. So magic wand is waved, and all of that is happening in every aspect: west, east, south and north.
Sounds like a beautiful transformation of how the city interacts with art.
That’s the magic.
I know you’ve only been living here for a year, but do you have a favorite coffee shop in L.A. yet?
Yeah, it’s actually File Systems of Coffee in Hollywood. They’ve got a great JBS [Japanese brown sugar] and a wonderful matcha, which I’ve never tried ’cause I’m scared. I think matcha might have too much caffeine in it and I might get addicted, but they have this great JBS. It’s the closest thing I can find in L.A. to a cortadito [a type of traditional Cuban espresso drink served in McCraney’s hometown of Miami].
In the two decades since, “The Brothers Size” has been produced around the country and starred the likes of Oscar nominee Brian Tyree Henry (“Causeway”) and André Holland (“Moonlight”) among many others.
Now, as Times theater critic Charles McNulty writes in his review, it ushers in the Geffen’s “Tarell Alvin McCraney era” as the first play of his tenure as artistic director. The Times’ Nicholas Ducassi sat down with McCraney just hours before opening night of “The Brothers Size” — running through Sept. 8 — to talk about his inaugural season at the Geffen, his dreams for L.A.’s theater scene and his favorite local coffee spot (so far).
This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for length and clarity.
Why did you want L.A. to experience “The Brothers Size” as the first play in your tenure as the artistic director of the Geffen Playhouse?
What’s interesting is this isn’t the first time “The Brothers Size” or “The Brother/Sister Plays” have been in L.A. I wanted to do a production in the style, sense and ore of what I’m excited about: the kind of theater that’s muscular, that is without props and [has a] minimal set, and really dig into the kind of street theater that I grew up doing in order to just make sure that I balance that with a complete season in the Cates Theater, which is what we’re doing with “Dragon Lady,” “Waiting for Godot,” “Noises Off,” “Furlough’s Paradise” and “The Reservoir.” And so I want to make sure that our palette at the Geffen is wide. That we let folks know that we are really here to be the friendly neighborhood playhouse that engages many forms of events. The live event is where we strive to be the best. And so I wanted to start with my best.
You’ve spoken about how your body of work has been influenced by your family’s experience with the justice system, and one of the first things you established was the Theater as a Lens for Justice initiative. Why was starting that program such a high priority for you?
I take the bus to work here. I don’t know [if] many people know that, and every time I say that, folks look at me a little strange. … Every night, when I take the bus, or when I’m on the bus or trying to make it to work, I encounter folks who are either experiencing houselessness or engaged in the system in some way. I also experience people who are on their way to work. What I recognized in that brief moment of time, of passing back and forth, of figuring out a season, is: We have to be able to engage folks at every level of our community.
Our community is made up of everybody. People who are here working, people who are not here working, people who are in struggle and those in between. And I needed to make sure that while we have an apparatus — we have a wonderful subscription program, we have an outreach program with UCLA that we’re strengthening and getting better — I wanted to make sure that we also had something in our platform that reached the parts of the community that may not have access to theater.
As a young person growing up whose family was affected by the justice system, whose brother was incarcerated, whose mother was in rehab, I didn’t get access to theater. Not theater that reflected me. And so I needed to make sure that that was happening, that that was a part of my remit, and it’s one of many initiatives.
Our hope is that when we get folks in the building from every walk of our community, they can start having a conversation differently than, you know, “Get out of my way, I’m headed to the store” or “Move, I need that parking spot.” What are the other things that we can get together and be in true dialogue about? That only happens in the theater. People start walking out and go, “Wait. You saw that? What did you think?” And whether you liked it or not, a dialogue is sparked by the thing in front of you. We imagine ourselves differently when we go into the dark together. I want folks in this community to get in the dark and imagine themselves differently.
Are there any plans to complete the full cycle of “The Brother/Sister Plays”?
Currently, no. The plan is to start with “Brothers Size” and then make room for the other artists that I’m really excited to engage. Folks who are hip-hop theater makers and people who make chamber operas. I’m really interested in looking for those innovators to come into the Audrey space and do live events that you can’t feel or engage anywhere else. I am planning and am currently writing other plays that will probably be in our space. But as far as the trilogy, we don’t have plans for it now. Now, if people really want to, or we really find a need, or if there’s artists who really want to engage it, we’ll think about it for sure.
Wave a magic wand. What does the theater community, in terms of both audiences and institutions here in L.A., look like in five, 10, 15 years? What is your dream?
The dream is happening a little bit. Maybe this is the new kid on the block being naive, but I feel like there’s a connectivity among theaters. There’s a conversation happening. There’s a sharing that’s going on, what with all of the amazing attention toward space and artist development that’s going on — meaning, there’s a shift happening in film and television, and so a lot of artists who are theater-native are coming back into theater spaces and wanting to be able to find a way, a pocket, to honor their theater roots, sharpen their tools, while also still engaging their jobs in film and TV. I think we’re poised now to, even more mightily, to engage that, to focus their attention, to play — for lack of a better word — to genuinely play, and then continue their careers in the other aspects of entertainment.
For example, there are musicians or folks who are vocalists and instrumentalists who are like, “Hey, I want to write a play.” And I’m like, “Yeah, I’m up for it. I’m excited about it.” And because L.A. is a focus point for entertainment, we can all do nutritious work together in that way. I’m excited to see it happening not just here but all over Los Angeles.
I love that phrase, “making nutritious work.”
Absolutely. And that means that that work can go in places that we may not be able to in a building. Maybe we can take “Brothers Size” to a community center and do it in the park. Maybe we can take a musical made by Questlove to a canyon cliff. What are the ways in which we can really engage the fact that we have incredible weather for most of the year and artists who really want to engage people and events that are one-of-a-kind? When Kendrick Lamar led a, sort of, street parade in his neighborhood, I was like, “Yeah, that’s what we’re used to in Miami.” That’s what we’re used to in places where you just engage the art where the people are. So magic wand is waved, and all of that is happening in every aspect: west, east, south and north.
Sounds like a beautiful transformation of how the city interacts with art.
That’s the magic.
I know you’ve only been living here for a year, but do you have a favorite coffee shop in L.A. yet?
Yeah, it’s actually File Systems of Coffee in Hollywood. They’ve got a great JBS [Japanese brown sugar] and a wonderful matcha, which I’ve never tried ’cause I’m scared. I think matcha might have too much caffeine in it and I might get addicted, but they have this great JBS. It’s the closest thing I can find in L.A. to a cortadito [a type of traditional Cuban espresso drink served in McCraney’s hometown of Miami].
