Follow-Up Interview with Playwright Robert Lawrence Nelson

Link to Original Interview

After taking an Arts Outta Town trip to see the Detroit Repertory Theatre’s production of Sweet Pea’s Mama, students had a chance to submit follow-up questions to playwright Robert Lawrence Nelson. Rob was gracious enough to speak with Arts at Michigan once more, as he responded to the following questions:

What kind of audience did you have in mind for the play? It seems it would elicit very different reactions, depending on the audience.

I didn’t have a specific audience in mind. I wanted people when they see it to think that these characters are, they’re conflicted, they’re not black and white. You could have prejudice and still have affection for somebody. I wanted people to walk away questioning their own prejudice. I think we’re all prejudiced to some degree or another.

How do you select names for the character? Based on personal associations, to invoke stereotypes, . . . ?

There’s no science to it. It’s just what feels right.

How would Coralee and Abigail’s characters change if the play were situated in the mid-2000s?

I really don’t know how to answer that. Certainly Coralee wouldn’t have to play stupid to the degree that she did, or at all, and who knows, Coralee might be Abigail’s boss in some corporate firm.

I also think you can’t really separate those characters from that context, the time that they were in. That’s why I kept the ending open-ended. I can make an argument that Abigail keeps Coralee on, working for her, and I can make also an argument that she lets her go.

I don’t know if this is relevant, but once the balance started to shift, when Coralee spoke up for herself and told the truth, the argument I would make for Abigail keeping her is that she has nobody else and that she needs somebody. I don’t mean in terms of being a housekeeper. She needs another soul to rub up against.

And the argument I can make for letting her go is there’s just no way that she can have her in the household on an equal basis with her. Abigail is stuck in the past and not ready to grow. So I left it open-ended for the audience to grapple

In the play, Coralee often played a role that she thought would be easier for Mrs. Gentry to understand. This role playing still seemed very salient to me. Do you think the roles that people play have changed since the civil rights movement? How?

In terms of playing the role, we all play roles to a certain extent. We all do that in order to get ahead. I don’t think that’s awful.

Did you consider any other endings or added plots?

No other added plot. No other ending either, and I’ve been criticized from time to time about the ending. Certain people wanted Coralee to demand more or say her piece and leave, but she was in the context of her time and she needed to take care of her family. So she negotiated for what she thought was possible, yet told the truth.

And incidentally, she was inspired by her son, which I thought was ironic because she’s the one who was so hard on him to mind his Ps and Qs, and he being the new generation, really didn’t want any of that. But when he came clean to her and opened his heart to her, that inspired her to be truthful. He calls her on it. Yes, she is doing all this for him, but at the same time, there’s another track. There’s a part of Coralee that was afraid if she spoke her mind, she would be fired.

Did you feel the need to make the black protagonist victorious in the end, given history’s record of the opposite?

Well, I think, again, I think it was an earned victory, but it was an honest victory. In other words, she was inspired by her son to tell the truth, yet it wasn’t Hollywood ending with her walking into the sunset with her chest out. She was still negotiating for what was reasonable to get. I guess the question presupposes that it was an unrealistic ending.

She grew as a person. She came from her truth rather than her fear. She might stay on or she might not. In one sense, it’s irrelevant, which is why I left it up to the audience. What’s important is that she grew and that she was inspired by her son.

Why did Sonny decide to drop his accusations against Coralee?

You know, I’ve been questioned about that. The question that I’ve gotten before about his character is that people say he’s a bit unrealistic because he changes so suddenly, first by accusing her and then by letting it go. And I’m so against changing his character because I think his character goes to the heart of the play and the time.

Here he is, he’s a burgeoning young man. He’s on the cusp between still being a child and being a grown man in that society. And he’s frustrated and angry at the loss of his brother. He’s trying on manhood, you know, to see how it fits and who he is on the time. And he changes back because Coralee was indeed the one who raised him. Even though Abigail says Coralee took care of Georgia, Coralee raised him too.

So he’s between the two worlds, she being the lovingest mother who cared for him, and trying to be a responsible man, as he saw in the society. So he goes back and forth. At one moment, he’s yelling at her, and the next moment, he’s looking for sympathy, crying on her shoulder. And again, it goes to his character. He lost his brother, his twin brother, and I’m sure you know how close twins are, and in this case, the guilt of Georgia coming out first, and he’s not comfortable with what role he’s supposed to be in yet.

I really like to write sloppy characters, and when I say sloppy, I don’t mean in a denigrating way. I mean it in a positive way. They’re conflicted, they’re multi-dimensional. They’re complex, seemingly contradictory, because we all are that.

Was it justifiable for Sonny to question Coralee about Georgie’s death?

Again, I’ll fall back on what I just said. At this point, he’s trying on the big boy pants of being the man. And he senses something, which he’s right, of course. So yeah, I think it’s justifiable. How he goes about doing it, of course, is a bit strident, but understandable given his pain.

I was a little confused regarding Georgie’s death. Are we supposed to cheer on the victory of the movement or mourn for the death of an innocent soul?

Yes.

SPM

Thanks again to Robert Lawrence Nelson for speaking with us. The Detroit Repertory Theatre’s production of Sweet Pea’s Mama continues through March 15th. Find more information here.

Interview: Robert Lawrence Nelson, Playwright and University of Michigan Graduate

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On January 24th, students took an Arts Outta Town trip to see the Detroit Repertory Theatre’s production of Sweet Pea’s Mama. This play tells the story of Coralee, a maid for Abigail and her family. Among other things, Coralee cares for Abigail’s grown developmentally challenged son, whom she affectionately calls Sweet Pea. On the day of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination, tragedy occurs in Abigail’s home that has a devastating effect on everyone.

Playwright Robert Lawrence Nelson is a University of Michigan graduate,and he shared insight with Arts at Michigan about his experience writing this play:

What inspired you to write a play set around the assassination of Dr. King?

I was 13 in 1968, the year that Dr. King was assassinated. Around that age, you start to form an identity of yourself vis-à-vis your community at large, and you start to see yourself in a sociopolitical context. You start asking these questions, who am I? What am I about? What’s life about?

Secondly, I was born and raised in a little coal mining town, which is 30 miles from the town of the play. The town in the play is Pikeville, Kentucky, which is a real town. And I was born and raised about 30 miles from there in a little town on the border of West Virginia and Kentucky, a very provincial town. I’m not African American, but I am Jewish, and up until the age of 12, it was an idyllic upbringing in a small town. Around the age of 12, kids start to take on the prejudice of their parents, and I’m keenly aware of what it’s like to be on the short end of prejudice. Again, I’m not African American, and I don’t know that particular experience, but I do know prejudice and anger and hatred.

Also, the maid in the play has a very strong relationship with a developmentally challenged son of a White woman, so much so that he comes to depend on her more than his actual mother. When I first moved to LA, I did catering work. One time, the catering staff was in the kitchen of a very wealthy family, and there was a toddler in the kitchen. He fell down and hurt himself and started crying. The mother had come in, and she was all dressed up for the party. She reached for him to comfort him, and he turned away and reached for the nanny. The mother was mortified. She didn’t say anything, and that image has stuck in my head all these years later.

And the fourth reason is, I’m kind of reluctant to say, but it really was a strong motivation for me to write this when the book The Help came out. I was excited because the author covers the general tableau that I do, and I was disappointed because she had gotten there before I did, as a writer. However, when I read the book, I was very disappointed in it. What struck me was that the author had encapsulated four hundred years of prejudice in this country in this buffoon of a character. And the other end of this spectrum, the white woman and the maid, they were pure as the driven snow. They were virtuous. And in my view of prejudice, forgive the pun, it’s not black and white. It’s very shaded. And I think I’ve done that in this play. The narratives of the two women, there’s an expressed disdain and unexpressed love.

Which authors have inspired or influenced you?

I think I’ve been informed quite a bit by Philip Roth and Arthur Miller. Again I’m Jewish, and both of those guys are. They’re a generation ahead of me, but they both kind of eschew their Jewish heritage in the writing. Roth writes iconoclastic Jewish characters, which he’s received a lot of flak from the Jewish community about, and Miller doesn’t deal with it at all, and so in eschewing their heritage, they’ve kind of embraced it. I’ll give you an analogy. It’s like an atheist who is a vehement atheist has a stronger relationship with God than people who casually believe in God. So for whatever reason, partly because I’m Jewish, I’ve been attracted to both of those guys.

What does your writing process look like?

Typically, once I’ve finished a script, my mind just kind of goes thinking about new ideas. And when I think about new ideas, I just mentally bat them around in my head. I’ll typically juggle four or five ideas. The litmus test for me, I would say to myself, if that were a movie or a play, I would love to see that, but would I love to dedicate the next whatever amount of time, weeks, months, of my life to it? Typically, what I choose to write chooses me. When I latch onto an idea that’s an insatiable itch where I can’t put it down, I know oh yeah, that’s it.

So once I’ve chosen that, I don’t start writing for a long time. I typically just take notes, stream of consciousness notes, for days, weeks, probably no shorter than 6 weeks and no longer than about 12 weeks. I’ll have notepads by my bed, notepads in my car, in the kitchen, in the bathroom. When a thought comes up, I don’t censor it. I write it down. In the beginning of that process, my notes are very amorphous, and I’m kind of wondering myself, well, is there a story here? Where’s this going? Who are the characters?

And I’m asking myself all these questions, and as the days and weeks go by, the notes start to take on a shape by themselves, organically, where I start to see the arc of the story, the arc of the characters, the obstacles in the way of the characters. I start to see all these story elements. And at some point, and it differs with every project, I kind instinctively know when it’s time to stop taking notes and start writing, and then I start writing.

What were some of the challenges you had when writing this play?

I don’t remember any specific challenges about this play, per se, but what I can speak to is the challenges I have in writing any play. You have to tread a fine line. You don’t want to be too explicit, because if you’re too explicit, you don’t engage. The audience is not pulled in. If you hand feed them the play, they’re not engaged. There’s not the X factor.

So you want to make it opaque enough where they’re questioning, well what’s going on here? What are the real motivations? At the other end of the spectrum, if you make it too opaque or esoteric, you’ll lose your audience, where they’re disengaged.

So I think you have to tread a fine line between two polarities. And it’s tricky sometimes, no matter how conscious you are of it.

 

Note: Stay tuned for a follow-up interview where Robert Lawrence Nelson answers questions that students had after seeing this play.

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