15 minutes with . . .
Julia Cho
Julia Cho and I met some years ago when she came through South Coast Repertory for a reading of one of her commissioned plays. In 2002, she was back for Pacific Playwrights Project and a Friday afternoon reading of her ’99 Histories’ that I sadly missed. It was not until her second Pacific Playwrights Festival reading, ‘The Piano Teacher’ in 2006, that I finally heard her stage voice. It was fearless, far-thrown, and probing. Kate Whoriskey staged the play's world premiere earlier this year in a production starring Linda Gehringer. It is now slated for a Vineyard Theatre off-Broadway bow. Meanwhile, Nick Hormann staged Julia’s ‘B.F.E.’ at Pasadena City College in 2007 and now the West Coast premiere of her ‘Durango’ arrives at East West Players under Chay Yew’s direction. Though we haven’t been able to really share an intermission together, the wonder of email allowed the following exchange to take place in final days of September 2007.
CRISTOFER GROSS As a writer, how do you see the other two aspects serving the creators at this time in theater history? Obviously there would be examples of every kind of treatment and quality. But, as a writer who is fairly well established, do you see theater support or critical sensitivity as a bigger challenge in the birth of a new play?
JULIA CHO I think having the support of a theater is fairly crucial to any playwright. You can only do so many readings and workshops; if you want to grow as an artist, you have to have productions to learn from and commissions that support you while you write. There are some theaters that do this kind of work incredibly well: South Coast Rep, for instance, commissions more new writers than any theater I know of. But the challenge is that there aren't more of these theaters.
There are brights spots: Playwrights Horizons in New York is getting a lot of publicity now because they have a season devoted to new work by mostly emerging writers. But while I love that they're doing this, part of me wishes it wasn't such an anomaly. Shouldn't there be many theaters who devote their seasons to new work by new writers? Why should this stand out? Shouldn't it be the norm?
CRISTOFER GROSS – Speaking only for yourself, were you a born artist who found theater as your outlet? Or did theater inspire you to become an artist so you could participate in its creativity somehow?
JULIA CHO I'm about the least likely playwright possible. I did not grow up in a family of artists. I did not grow up watching theater. But when I saw my first play, I found the experience absolutely searing. I guess I was born with something in me that responds to theater -- to this day, nothing pierces me more than a great play. But I often think how easily I could've gone without ever knowing that theater moves me so much. Sometimes, being a playwright seems like such an accident. It was simply a matter of the right ticket being put into my hand at the right time.
I'm not sure if I'm a born artist, but I think I was born with a couple of qualities that make being an artist possible. For one, I'm able to spend hours completely absorbed in my own thoughts. This doesn't make me a lot of fun, but it does enable me to cobble together made-up worlds, word by word. I also have a really strong imagination. In fact, the people and places I imagine can sometimes feel more real to me than real people and places. Again, this doesn't make me great company, but it does help me get into other people's heads -- a crucial skill for a person who has to write in other people's voices.
CRISTOFER GROSS Three and a half years ago, prior to your first full production, a reporter asked you, "As a writer, what sort of legacy might you want to leave?" To which you replied, "In my dreams, I would love to be a woman of letters and write across genres: non-fiction, essays, novels, poems. I'd love to be a real writers' writer. I'd want to be remembered for a body of work that reflects what it was like to be human at this moment in time. And I would want to leave a legacy of activism. Somehow, I want to make a difference and combat all the hate and racism in this world with kindness and compassion. I'm just not sure how to do that yet."
Have the last three years' success strengthened or altered that view?
JULIA CHO I still feel very much that I would like to write in a variety of genres. And I still carry around this feeling of wanting to be a real writer someday; I suspect I'll feel like that no matter how much I've written. And I'd still love to be an activist somehow. But I'm still not sure how to do that.
CRISTOFER GROSS I believe a work of art is not limited by the intentions of the artist, nor is it elevated by them. I wonder if you would agree, and if you are ever surprised by what emerges from your work, even as late as while you're watching a production after it's up and running.
JULIA CHO I'm not surprised if meanings emerge from my work that exceed what I intended; in fact, I count on it. My plays are realistic enough that there is some core story being conveyed: it's not "anything goes."
But I actually love it when people come to me with interpretations or themes I didn't even know were there. I also think the best work definitely feels like it exceeds me. It's hard to explain...it's almost as if some of the plays are bigger than I am. They tap into something larger. But instead of it being self-aggrandizing, it can actually be quite humbling.