​On Friday, February 19, 2021, it was one year since we lost our friend and fellow-Piehole Elliot B. Quick. 
​
Over the course of this tumultuous year, we've continued to process our love for Elliot and our grief for his loss, and one way we've approached that process is through collaboration. We joined forces with several of Elliot's close artistic partners on a writing project reflecting on Elliot's work as a dramaturg, in all of its glorious complexity. 

Working in concert with so many of his collaborators, getting to know Elliot's processes outside of Piehole, and engaging in a collective editing puzzle (that felt like something Elliot would have made so much easier!) has been an incredibly gratifying and healing experience. And in collecting these writings, we've uncovered what we hope will speak to folks both inside and outside of theater, those who knew Elliot and those who did not.

Special mega-thanks to everyone who contributed, and to Culturebot for publishing it. We invite you to read it and share it with people and communities with whom it might resonate.

Tara here: ​I began writing Disclaimer a few years ago, and this past Saturday we did our first public production of the piece, at The Public. The week leading up to that was, in my memory, the closest Iran and the US ever came to all out war. This lifelong fear that I talk about in this show was appearing to become a reality. I hope, despite the ongoing grief for the lives lost so far, and the search for justice that is happening in Iran now, that we have avoided the worst, and that there is an end to any violence. One of the great gifts of developing Disclaimer has been the opportunity to work with other Iranian and Iranian-American artists, and to invite them into our Piehole collaboration. One of these artists, Layla Khoshnoudi, a talented (and hilarious!) actor, writer, and all around artist, has written a reflection on Iran-US relations in light of the recent events. I'm so grateful to Layla for her insightful feedback as a collaborating artist on Disclaimer, and for allowing me to share this with you all:

Hello, my name is Layla Khoshnoudi. You can call me Layla Khoshnoudi, or Layla Khosh, or Layla K or Layla.
I ask people to realize, that Iran and USA are so, so, the same. The USA’s world-domination fantasies have developed more floridly over the past century, but it all comes out in the wash I believe. I ask people to level up in consciousness, and dare to believe in the possibility of peace. Iran and America are two great countries, which can and must work together to empower peace in the world. 
What I love about the show Disclaimer is the humble expression of what, to me, is the most profound truth underlying all of this egoic conflict. We are all the same, and we all die. 
Me, I am not an academic. I am not an authority on this matter, except that I was gifted with some intrinsic scope, being born American, from Iranians. 
I am unmistakably, grateful for my existence here. I love my life, and I am grateful. I do at times resent, however, the negligence of what I’ll refer to as Passive America, to appreciate the culture from ‘my land’ and from ‘others’ land’; the failure to understand its own legacy in oppression (on an individual and societal level); and the failure to reflect on their own humanity enough to fathom the nuance of this conflict. There is a profound reflection to be found between Iran and The USA.Each person must start with him or herself, in the pursuit of peace.  
And also, please know that Iran is a unique country in the middle east. It is not Arabic. There are multiple ethnicities in the Middle East, and Iranian (or Persian) is one of them. We are very quirky and kind of insane (consider the fact that we have two names). And though prone to extreme stances, Iran is a powerful, courageous, and rich culture, with its own prerogative for evolution, and bigger fish to fry than defending itself from western Imperialism which has a long tradition of taking resources without properly paying for them— A dynamic which has provoked a lot of chaos and bitterness. Okay. 
Anyway, I care about few things as much as my family’s country of origin. So thank you for taking the time to read and reflect. Change can happen, like that.

From January 24-29, Piehole's went to Sundance with our pals Tender Claws, for an early press-preview of The Under Presents. Produced by Oculus, this project combines live theater and VR, and brings this experience to your living room via The Quest, Oculus' newest headset. We have been having so much fun figuring out how live performance works in VR, and working with some of our favorite NYC performing artists in "The Under" - the cabaret space that frames the story within a story in this sprawling world. Players can enjoy a more plot driven experience on a stranded ship, or explore The Under, where they may find pop startists, dancing cats, office jazzercise routines, and a skeleton-drummer named Tina. We can't wait to tell you more! Meanwhile, enjoy this trailer...

How can the premiere of Ski End be just a week and a half away? After almost two years of work, how can we be so close to letting this thing loose upon the world? Does my inclination to indulge in nostalgia for the recent past before the show is even over make me...like...a...fascist? Should I avoid indulging in that nostalgia just in case? Is nostalgia even the right word?   Am I just taking stock in a normal, healthy way? Hey…have we told you all how things are going lately? Well, things have changed a lot since last summer when we performed Ski End 1.0 at the Ice Factory. We've rehearsed at IRT, we've rehearsed at New York Theatre Workshop, we've rehearsed in our apartments, we've even rehearsed at Emilie and Alexandra's office. Now we're all set up in the former synagogue at Westbeth Artists Housing, where a group of three actual-real-life skater teens walked in on us flailing around the other day and struck terror (or joy? Can't tell the difference) into our hearts. Soon, though, we'll have to pack up and move into our final home for the show - the New Ohio Theatre. Our first preview is April 30th! Got it? And our last show is May 19th. That's a Friday. Don't forget!

​So where do we stand right now? Well, Alexandra might be found late at night on a hot Sunday creating new elements for the set; Tara and Deepali might be cloistered away discussing new music; Jeff and Ben might be fabricating back-up skis because boy are we being rough with those things. Every night we come home to 50-100 alerts from Google Docs – the script is morphing and maturing like a living creature feeding on our energy at rehearsals. Questions asked on any given night might range from “how can I be a better person?” to “is this branch going to fall on my head?”  And, so often, we hear the ominous answer “we’re going to have to take this to the ‘turgs” (dramaturgs, that is, Elliot and Lauren).

​But most importantly, our teenage collaborators gave up time during their Spring Break to rehearse with us. We gotta honor that. Tickets dates and deets here! See you soon!

Thanks to some amazing support from our community of donors, we exceeded our telethon goal of raising $5,000, which put us well on our way to our year-end fundraising goal of $15,000.  If you missed the telethon, you can still make a tax deductible donation be clicking here.

That $15,000 goal will fund Piehole for a whole year, including our Spring 2017 production of SKI END.

2016 was a marathon year of hard work and late nights for us, so it’s only fitting that our final act was a 24-hour live telethon during which we didn’t “nap” anywhere near as much as we optimistically told ourselves we would. Despite the fact that some of our natural rhythms have been thrown out of balance for the foreseeable future as a result, it was a deeply satisfying and affirming experience - and, as it turns out, an endurance performance that makes us feel truly proud! Particularly because trying to plan such an undertaking while simultaneously getting back into rehearsals for Ski End AND trying to understand how to be active participants in our faltering society was...not easy. Credit for carrying us over the finish line (or, let’s be honest, carrying us to the starting line in the first place) must go first and foremost to our dear friend Allen Riley, whose complex and sculptural live TV set-up has been inspiring us for a few years now. When Alexandra interviewed him during the second and third installations of the ‘thon, the whole event gained a sense of meaning and context that went way beyond raising money. Which is not to malign raising money, of course, because that’s what we were doing! And it worked! As I myself have learned during many a public radio pledge drive, people will pay if they see you workin' for it. Is your voice cracking from repeating the same number over and over again? Yeah, I’ll donate to that, absolutely! But of course there was more to it than that. There were times when we felt we were engaged in a public experiment, a brief way of life, in which many of you were actively participating...commenting, staying up later than you meant to, egging us on, watching us get looser and weirder. Even though it was only 24 hours, I’ll probably eventually remember it as a distinct period in my life where we all lived together in a super-secret-location somewhere in Brooklyn. And what happened during that wild era in the waning years of our youth? Almost too much to name! But here are some highlights (possibly out of order):

​

We got off to a thoughtful and invigorating start with old chums Sarah Campen, Bob Christensen, and Hannah Pepper-Cunningham. They were calling in from Juneau and New Orleans, respectively, and offered perspective on making art and theater not only way outside of New York, but in parts of the country that exist on the front lines of climate change.

We were shocked to realize we’d been chatting with them for about an hour when our next guests, Lauren Whitehead and Alec Duffy showed up, live and in-person! We hadn’t planned to interview them at the same time, but we were glad we did because their work dovetails so beautifully and now they’re going to get a cup of coffee!!

Our teenaged collaborators Kijani and Maite joined us and we got to catch up. Our temporary society felt a lot more like a real society when we got a little intergenerational conversation going. Maite performed a few pieces for us, and Kijani made the case for our fundraising effort. We’re so excited to spend more time with them in rehearsals! Also, Alexandra taught us how to draw a powerful horse.

International reinforcements starting appearing - Sina Heiss and her collaborator Marlene came all the way from Austria (maybe not just for the telethon, but still) and we talked about theater, politics, and the color green in Austria. Piehole collaborator Hye Young Chyun, in town from South Korea, appeared briefly and miraculously to deliver donuts.

Our friend Deepali Gupta, who wrote music for Ski End, sang original songs for us as we sat down to dinner. Maybe this would become part of the nightly ritual forever? Hopefully?? This was reality now, wasn’t it?

More friend reinforcements started appearing, and Matt Tong, stalwart Piehole ally, barely realized that he’d been manning the video station for hours. Jess Goldschmidt gave us a rousing performance of “what’s in the bag” (must be seen to be believed). Emily Friend Roberts, aka Erma Fiend, provided us with a makeup tutorial that turned Elliot into a glamourous melting mall elf for the next 16 hours. Maya Taylor provided us with a box of caffeine pills, two of which were promptly downed by Brendan Thomas Crowley, who would bravely carry us through the late night.

Samantha Gorman and Danny Cannizzarro, in solidarity from California, had crab legs delivered to our super secret location. We devoured them for your viewing pleasure.

When Ski End ensemble member Ben Vigus starting juggling to the rhythm of Elliot’s perfect apple-chopping, we knew we were in for the long haul. It would not be the last time we saw the world through juggle-cam.

Brendan introduced us to the terrors of the night by telling a series of bone-chilling ghost stories. He also introduced us to the terrors of the present by promising to sing an improvised parody song entitled “Trump Says” to the tune of “Jane Says” for a donation of $50. Much to his chagrin, his challenge was met by devoted Telethon viewer Kevin McKenna. 

The apple-chopping became part of an overnight pie-making ritual which briefly landed us in another dimension.

We settled into a quieter period - toasting our high school English teachers with a glass of traditional wassail, enjoying readings from Anne of Green Gables, Johnny Got His Gun, and Margaret Atwood’s Moral Disorder...all of which brought us treacherously close to the dark heart of total awareness in the moment. Some people took naps while others doubled down on a wakeful mania. ​

In the early hours, we began to hear from other parts of the world - our friend Blair told us what the dawn would be like from her vantage point in Brazil, and original Piehole-er Michelle Oing called us from Amsterdam. She was a lot more conscious than we were, and she pulled us through the darkest hour. We argued about onion rings. Just when Michelle could hold the lifeline no longer, Ski End ensemble member Emilie Soffe and her partner (and our pal) Jeff Doyle arrived on their way to the airport with a box of granola bars. ​

It was time for more intergenerational connection: Alexandra called her grandmother in Denmark. Granny gave us some advice. Later, her granddaughter would teach us all to draw a boat.

Coffee, breakfast, the crossword, nearly dropping the camera on Elliot’s dog Keira while we tried to feed her. The crossword was a true group effort, as our loyal viewers began to awaken bright and early on a Saturday morning. After having played the master of the night and telling one more horrifying ghost story, Brendan finally collapsed. Later we would see his sweet sleeping face up close and personal.

Maite, up earlier than I ever was on a Saturday morning at 17, re-joined us and helped Elliot finish the pie of the night.

Chana Porter, co-founder of the Octavia Project, arrived with her collaborator Chandanie Hiralal - a young fantasy writer who read us an excerpt from a novel she wrote as a teenager. By that point things had reached the fantastical at multiple levels.

Bahar Behbahani called in to tell us that donating to Piehole helped her find her wallet. Seemed like a solid endorsement to us!

Kathryn Wallem, original Piehole with a depth of fundraising knowledge, arrived to lead us in some stretches and teach everyone the lost art of the check. Surprisingly informative!

Matt Tong re-appeared with a reprisal of “What’s in the Bag.” The Bag contained coffee jelly and caffeinated gum!

WE MADE OUR GOAL! After an explosion of emotion, we realized we still had a couple more hours to go, so there was nothing for it but to settle into a game of Scrabble while Elliot read from Moby Dick.

We could tell the sun was shining. The donations kept rolling in. The tree was lit. Finally it was time to emerge into the daylight, renewed and buoyed by the lifetime we all lived together between those walls for those 24 hours. I don’t know about anyone else, but I personally have no memory of the following week. All I saw was the support and solidarity represented in our Winter Wonderland Donorama Diorama, where tiny anthropomorphic avatars for our donors formed our ideal town.

This month, Piehole is doing a development workshop of Ski End at IRT Theatre in the West Village as part of our Archive Residency.

The first day of our rehearsal was scheduled for the day after Election Day.

We had assumed we would be celebrating the end of a stressful and painful election, that we would have broken a glass ceiling, and that we could return to the privileged position of our usual levels of activism. Lately, our attentions had been on deeper systemic issues in our country, that are difficult to unpack and address, like systemic racism and money in politics. But when Trump won, we were suddenly overwhelmed by so much existing and potential devastation, that we initially couldn’t fathom where to place our feelings or to direct our attention. Suddenly, we had to protest his hateful language, his corrupt history, his racist cabinet appointments, his climate-change-denying stance, the list goes on. He has flooded the channels with abominations, and it's hard to know where to begin. Needless to say, we entered rehearsal Day 1 on Wednesday with a lot of new information and feelings to process. I can’t say that we were all solidly in the “art matters now more than ever” camp, though there was some feeling of that...or even that we were all sure that this was “exactly what I need to be doing right now.” But here’s a run-down of what we did in that rehearsal and how it may have helped us:

1. We spent the first hour talking about the election, the state of our country, what we’re all noticing and experiencing, what the word “hot take” means, what we think Huma is feeling right now, etc.
2. We spent some time doing a physical warm up, breathing, hearing  cracks in our bones, and beginning to feel light and powerful. At one point I thought while running around flapping my arms “this is a good reminder of agency, something I can do that brings me joy and that the prez-elect & co can’t take away from me. I’ll hang on to this for whenever I need it.”
3. Because our work and process is very porous to our day-to-day experiences and what we notice happening in the world around us, we rolled up our sleeves and spent time delineating the ways in which recent events inform and shed light upon the themes at play in SKI END. One of SKI END’s central themes is the way apocalyptic narratives form, and how they can lead to paralysis. We had previously considered “doom narratives” as something dangerous that must be avoided, pointing to the big orange guy as somebody who fosters doom narratives in order to prey on voters through fear. His apocalyptic narrative relies on nostalgia for a previously “great" America that is only getting worse and worse. But now, those of us experiencing his victory as our frightening loss are struggling to avoid a similar kind of apocalyptic thinking, which might layer on top of us and crush hope. It’s helpful to draw the comparison between both examples of doomy thinking, because it helps us get much deeper inside the temptation of doom, rather than simply judging it for being indulgent. We are finding that working to destabilize doom narratives can allow us to acknowledge our emotions, and view them critically, while taking responsibility for the horrors of the world we live in, rather than simply lamenting them. 
4. Armed with some specific ideas of what this may mean for our approach, we got on our feet and dove into the play.

If you’ve seen our work, you know that Piehole works to create space for multiplicity, complexity, surprise and delight. The whole enterprise is about shifting and expanding perspectives, our own and our audience's. So as we challenge ourselves to work through all of this, we aim to translate this process into a thought-provoking journey for our audience. 

For me, being in rehearsals for Ski End right now feels right somehow. It is a privilege to be able to carve out space in our lives to come together as a group of people who are all dedicated to understanding and reflecting something that feels true about the world, while posing questions to an audience through our work. Spending TIME with ideas and events, crafting a synthesis of different viewpoints, feels like an essential alternative to the instantaneous spewing of thoughts and feelings that social media inspires in us. The latter certainly serves a purpose, but on its own it can really make you lose your center. Returning to Ski End rehearsals has helped me feel more centered, which makes smaller actions like regularly contacting Congress members, much easier and clearer. 

Although I'm skeptical of the phrase "now more than ever," it's exciting to feel the urgency of the work we're making, and it's making me impatient to share it with our community. But for now, we'll keep working on it because we're not done yet!

​