The oversized desk and tiny chair in this image represent the daunting task I faced in writing a trilogy about opiate addiction, commercial fishing and Moby Dick. Constructed of totems, large-scale shadow casting silhouettes and a shipwrecked raft as a performance platform, this imaginary harbor is a space we move through like a dream sequence; whether traveling into or out of this distant port of call, there is always a tangled snarl preventing a clear course of action. The route is hard to navigate, and can seem almost impossible to try.

 

 

 

This image is from "Fishing for Paradise,” an installation that “took viewers on a dramatic journey of discovery through the playwright's world as he unearths the layers of production history of his epic trilogy of plays.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Provocative performance is about risk-taking. "Will the audience see the beauty, humor and value of entertainment in our performance, or will they perhaps find it sacrilegious in some way?" I wonder as I perform a scene from "The Greatest Story Ever Told" (Old Testament) on Main Street on the island of Vinalhaven during the Fourth of July parade, as a member of the performance troupe "The Fabulous Giggin' Bros."  In the end, it's really all about community, and our "entry" gets rousing applause as Greg Dorr (a local lawyer) and his father, Luke, engage in the ancient dance of good and evil as "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Sympathy for the Devil" blare from their respective boom-boxes.

 

 

The lighting designer and I set up two actors behind a scrim flooded with red light to create the iconic image for my play "UltraLight,” a parable that explores the lessons to be learned from addiction about the bonds of brotherhood, wilderness, storytelling and integrity—what it means to be alive— "really and truly" alive. "That was me man!" a recovering addict, with tears in his eyes, declared after the play’s performance in Gloucester, MA, following its premier at La MaMa  in NYC. "I was the fish on the end of that line!"

 

 

 

Two recovering addicts—one, a commercial fisherman, the other a long-distance truck driver—discuss the roots of their addiction while fishing for tuna and the time they have spent incarcerated for their disease. "Remember the first time?" Steven asks Big John. "I lost something, John, that very first time [I tried heroin] and I want it back. Every time I think about getting high, it's like I'm trying to get even." "You can't get even with a drug, Steven,” replies Big John.

 

 

 

During the play, this boat descended from the heavens (theater grid) with the character of Tashtego in it—the lead harpooner in Moby Dick—who is summoned to kill the drug dealer and rid the town of drugs. The actor, unseen by the audience at this point, had been in the boat for an hour and 20 minutes, and his appearance created an astonishing spectacle, tying the modern day world of commercial fishing to Moby Dick and the ancient whaling era.

 

 

 

Later, we built a dolly for the boat to create a mobile platform to reach deep into the commercial fishing community and the heart of addiction with an ongoing series of staged readings in art museums (CMCA, La MaMa Galleria) and installations on the working waterfront (Portland Fish Exchange, Kindling Fund—Andy Warhol Foundation).