..last week I attended S.C.A.M.P., an opening at Gallery Plan b that included the works of friends of mine; each, visual artists. Standing in that gallery I enjoyed their success as much as their work, and felt a cathartic joy at seeing the walls of the space hosting such a diverse and complimentary collection of completed thoughts. ..savoring it I realize: each time I sit at my computer, being a visual artist has compensations no playwright can claim; in hanging a work, it is presented. Even hung in a room of the artist’s home, the work is ‘alive’ and available to be seen and enjoyed. A play only comes to life after many hours and days, if not (hopefully), weeks of rehearsal; it stands by way of the grip of a collection of professionals, many of whom participate unseen –designers, technicians- all of whom work in phalanx to the director-..Only in the crucible of a performance space can a playwright's mettle be weighed. Because of this, a work isn’t finished once it is complete; it has merely reached a ‘lodging’ –a drawer, or thumb drive, until it is given full opportunity. .. this is not a whinge on the unsung plight of playwrights; at our best, we manage the parameters of our genre. It is, in fact, part of the package in our art, this extended (and protracted) climb to true ‘existence’. ..it’s just..the abiding challenge to a playwright is not to ‘create’; but, I believe, to shrewdly ‘construct’. For in some future, in presentation, the work must prove the writer’s intentions, while bearing the weight of interpretation. For me, it is very much about architecture. Being a ‘good’ playwright is about presciently countering the nuances that will be found in a performance, which might give opportunity to distortion of the work’s dimensions. It is about being aware, and anticipating collaboration. No matter what I write, I know that it is not going to be onstage in the very strict contours of my thinking; it is going to be breathing through the wit, timing and intelligence of the actors, as well as the impulse and scheme of the director interpreting the whole. ..Pinter is a master architect; his writing is a level of manipulation that only the most adroit and adept can steer by. It is not about placing non sequiturs in a ratcheting string of emphasis, modulated through strategic ellipses; it is about conscious dimensions of construct, and crawl; a specific psychological stairway. And the actors who must climb this track know to connect the unseen beats, and words, and find the tensile, invisible architecture. They know to be prepared for challenge, from the moment of reading the words “written by-”. But the majority of we who write have no such eminence; until our work is brought into the hands of others, the arrow we’ve fashioned only hits its mark in the perfection of our own minds.. -so, when scripts were placed on the table, for the first read through of strawberry dwarfs and other lies, I could only know in the abstract- the dimensions of the piece I had written. On that Thursday, June 7th, 2012, the voices in my head listened to words finally spoken. Jack Cutmore-Scott hit the sass and swagger with Painter’s character; Charlie Tirrell gave grounding to Glassman’s comedy; while Charlie Socarides detailed Evan’s calm, into inexorable.. All while Amy Van Nostrand’s Lillian.. -unnerved me; her journey being a descent through two interactions, seemingly nothing more than salacious, but, in truth, hurtling this driven character into a clear contour of desperation.. With the last words spoken, a cloying sense of ickiness draped us at the table; I had to stand, and shake it off, literally! ..and this was just a first read through! The work given four days rehearsal and full concentration by the artist and its director, Bob Jaffe, stood up in blue wash onstage, leading the audience to laugh, chuckle, and then swallow disconcertedly .. Sometimes, queasy silence is affirmation of effectiveness, and Lillian’s ebbing stole the breath of those watching.. -until their applause broke with the subsequent dark. …my father used to quote a phrase of his mother’s: “..you sit by the door of opportunity, sit and wait, but be prepared, because once it opens, you’re going to rush in ready.” Playwrights may create in a vacuum, but “prepared” is a good password..