The 2nd Annual One-Minute Play Festival of Latina/o Voices at INTAR

October 17, 2013 Leave a comment


The One-Minute Play Festival & INTAR Theatre Present

The 2nd Annual One-Minute Play Festival of Latino Voices

Saturday October 26th and Sunday October 27th 2013

Streaming on HowlRoundTV Sunday at 8PM EST

INTAR Theatre

500 West 52nd Street

Tickets are $20 and available at

Featuring brand new one-minute plays by:

José Rivera, Kristoffer Diaz, Migdalia Cruz, Caridad Svich, Julián Mesri, Matthew Paul Olmos, christopher oscar peña, Flor De Liz Perez, Carmen Rivera, Tatiana Suarez-Pico, Andrea Thome, Cándido Tirado, Juan Franciso Villa, Maria Alexandria Beech, Raúl Castillo, Julissa Contreras, Fernanda Coppel, Michael John Garcés, Carlos Murillo, J. Julian Christopher, Alejandro Morales, Matt Barbot , Richard Montoya, Peter Gil-Sheridan, Marisela Treviño Orta, Percy Rodriguez , Jerry Ruiz , Eddie Nelson Cardona Jr. , Mando Alvarado, Dacyl Aveco, Virginia Grise, & more.

Directed by:
Daniel Jaquez, Rebecca Martinez, Melissa Crespo, Brisa Areli Muñoz, Natalia Hernandez, Carlos Armesto. 

Curated by:
Dominic D’Andrea

The One-Minute Play Festival (Dominic D’Andrea, Producing Artistic Director) and INTAR Theatre (Lou Moreno, Artistic Director; John McCormack, Executive Director) are continuing their dynamic partnership to present the The 2nd Annual New York One-Minute Play Festival Of Latino Voices, one half of the proceeds from which will benefit INTAR Theatre’s community programming, fellowships, and artistic residency programming for young actors known as Unit 52.

The One-­Minute Play Festival (#1MPF) America’s largest and longest running short form Theatre Company in the country, founded by Producing Artistic Director, Dominic D’Andrea. #1MPF is barometer project, which investigates the zeitgeist of different communities through dialogue and consensus building sessions and a performance of many moments. #1MPF works in partnership with theatres sharing playwright or community-specific missions across the country. In each city, #1MPF creates locally sourced playwright-focused community events, with the goal of promoting the spirit of radical inclusion by representing local cultures of playwrights of different age, gender, race, cultures, and points of career.

The work attempts to reflect the theatrical landscape of local artistic communities by creating a dialogue between the collective conscious and the individual voice.

In each city, #1MPF works with partnering organizations to identify programs or initiatives in each community to support with the proceeds from the work. The goal is to find ways give directly back to the artists in each community. Supported programs have ranged from educational programming, youth poetry projects, teaching artists working in prisons, playwright residencies and memberships, and community arts workshops.

Annual partnerships have been created with theaters in close to 20 cities including: New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, Trenton, Atlanta, Philadelphia, Washington, DC, Baltimore, Boston, Miami, Minneapolis, New York, Seattle, Dallas, Austin, Indianapolis, Anchorage, and more, with partnering institutions like Primary Stages, Victory Gardens Theatre, Cornerstone Theatre Company, The Playwrights Foundation, Boston Playwrights Theatre, Actor’s Express, InterAct Theatre, Mixed Blood, Passage Theatre, Phoenix Theatre, Kitchen Dog, Salvage Vanguard, ScriptWorks, ACT, Perseverance Theatre, and others.

Notable #1MPF contributors have included: David Henry Hwang, Neil LaBute, Tina Howe, Donald Margulies, Nilaja Sun, Lydia Diamond, Phillip Kan Gotanda, Kristoffer Diaz, Rajiv Joseph, Sam Hunter, Karen Hartman, José Rivera, Craig Lucas, Mike Daisey, Greg Kotis, Michael John Garcés, & close to 600 famous, emerging, and midcareer playwrights.

For more information visit:

* * *

INTAR (International Arts Relations, Inc.) is an organization committed to the development of “theater arts without borders.” Over the past four decades, INTAR has produced classics, Latino adaptations of classics, cabarets, and 70 world premiers of plays written by Latino-Americans, including 2005 Oscar nominee Jose Rivera and Pulitzer Prize recipient Nilo Cruz.

INTAR, one of the United States’ longest running Latino theater producing in English, works to nurture the professional development of Latino theater artists; produce bold, innovative, artistically significant plays that reflect diverse perspectives; and, make accessible the diversity inherent in America’s cultural heritage.

To date, the theater has commissioned, developed, and produced works by more than 175 Latino writers, composers, and choreographers. It has assisted hundreds of Latino playwrights, directors, and actors in obtaining their first professional theater credits, union memberships, and reviews in English-language media. “There’s scarcely a Latino artist in America who hasn’t been supported or trained or produced by INTAR,” according to The New York Times.

For more info visit:

The One-Minute Play Festival Announces The 2013/14 National Season

October 17, 2013 Leave a comment








The One-Minute Play Festival, under the leadership of Producing Artistic Director, Dominic D’Andrea announces returning and new partnerships for the 2013/14 season.

Read the full announcement at 

The 2nd Annual One-Minute Play Festival of Latina/o Voices

In Partnership With INTAR Theatre

 October 25th & 26th 2013


 The 4th Annual San Francisco One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Playwrights Foundation

December 15th & 16th 2013


The 4th Annual Boston One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Boston Playwrights Theatre

January 4th, 5th, & 6th 2014


The 4th Annual New Jersey One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Passage Theatre

 January 18th & 19th 2014


The 2nd South Florida One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership The Historic Deering Estate @ Cutler

 January 25th & 26th 2014


The 2nd Annual Baltimore One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With EMP Collective

 February 8th & 9th 2014


The 2nd Annual Minneapolis One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Mixed Blood Theatre (and an additional community partner to be announced.)

 February 15th & 16th 2014


The 1st Indianapolis One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Phoenix Theatre

 March 22nd, 23rd, & 24th 2014


The 8th New York One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Primary Stages at 59e59 Theatre

 March 30th 2014


The 1st Alaska One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Perseverance Theatre

 April 12th, 13th, & 14th 2014


The 4th Annual Chicago One-Minute Play Festival

  In Partnership With Victory Gardens Theater

 May 3rd, 4th, & 5th 2014


The 1st Seattle One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With A Contemporary Theatre (ACT)

 May 10th, 11th, & 12th 2014


The 3rd Annual Atlanta One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Actor’s Express

 June 8th, 9th, & 10th 2014


The 1st Washington, D.C. One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Round House Theatre

 July 12th, 13th, & 14th 2014


The 2nd Annual Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With InterAct Theatre

 August 3rd, 4th, & 5th 2014


The 1st Dallas One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Kitchen Dog Theatre

 August 16th, 17th & 18th 2014


The 1st Austin One-Minute Play Festival

 In Partnership With Salvage Vanguard & ScriptWorks

 August 28th, 29th, & 30th 2014


Additional Festivals To Be Announced At A Later Date







Categories: One-Min Play Info

My Case for Being a Philadelphia Playwright



My Case for Being a Philadelphia Playwright


I grew up in Philly. Okay, I’ve already lied. I’m a writer, and writers are liars. I grew up in Bala Cynwyd, which is only a few blocks from City Line Avenue. Which I would cross mainly by bike with my friends to go to Roy Rogers. So I grew up in Philly-ish.


But when I began writing plays I was living in New York City, so I was by no means a Philadelphia area playwright. I wasn’t an anything-area playwright. New York is not an area. It’s just New York. And if you are writing plays in New York City, your core community is most likely fellow unproduced playwrights. You wake up each day and remind yourself that you are in New York City (holy shit, I live in New York City!), you are writing plays (I can actually finish a play! And then another one! Me!) and that you don’t have an agent (Do I exist today? Is there a point to me? If I never wrote another play would anyone know or care?). There are good things about being a playwright in New York City. You can get absurdly good underemployed actors for your self-produced showcases. There is a staggering array of places to go have drinks and commiserate with fellow artists. But for me, I never got a great sense of community. I had some great individual experiences, but no long-slow build.


When I left I ended up where so many of us end up who have given up on their lofty dreams and come to grips with living in the real world: Jersey. So now I live and write plays in Princeton. For a while I thought this meant I was in playwright purgatory. We all want to write plays that matter, plays that rock peoples’ world, plays with “holy-shit-did-that-just-happen?” scenes. I just didn’t imagine such plays could be written in Central New Jersey. But I got over it and tried to write them anyway. Eventually I found a small, miraculous theatre in Trenton that produces new plays called Passage that has become a sort of artistic home.


But I also came to appreciate my proximity to Philly. Princeton hovers within the hour-ish range of Philadelphia and I began to realize that maybe if I hung out around enough I could call myself a Philadelphia-area playwright. And what’s interesting is how much I’m pleased to be able to (barely) refer to myself that way. I grew up watching theatre around Philadelphia (my father being a director in the city and theatre professor at Villanova), so I’ve always known there was great stuff happening here. But I think it took living in New York to really appreciate the strength of the Philadelphia theatre community.


I was lucky enough to be part of Playpenn in 2010, which is really a pretty major event in the regional theatre world. But when I arrived it was amazing to me how tight-knit people were: actors, directors, designers, writers and theatre professionals who really effing care about what they do.  Just about everyone seems to know each other and, more often than not, really like each other.  People want to see their fellow artists succeed. They post passionate FB posts about plays they are not involved with. I think this may be because people in the Philadelphia theatre community are here because they want to be here. They want to build a life in the theatre that can be maintained over time, that can grow and evolve.


I had another great experience as part of the National New Play Network’s showcase at Interact. And when Passage Theatre’s production of one of my plays won a Barrymore award (RIP)  a couple years ago, I felt I earned some Philly-area playwright street cred.


So now comes Philly OMPF. Already it’s been a great chance to reconnect with some very smart, very cool people. To me, a one-minute play celebrates the insanity of a playwright’s effort to connect with an audience in live performance. We all have less time than we think we do. A one-minute play puts the stopwatch on and makes us realize how little time we really have to make the connection.   I look forward to seeing what kind of mayhem we Philly-area playwrights can come up with in our 80 minutes. And I look forward to drinks after.


 -Jim Christy


The First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival in Partnership with InterAct Theatre Company runs July 29-31st. Proceeds to benefit the Philadelphia New Play Initiave-a program dedicated to supporting and uplifting the voices of local Philadelphia Playwrights. Tickets are $20 and available here. 



Categories: Playwright Posts

All You Can Ask For (In One Minute or Less) by David Robson


 David Robson Photo

All You Can Ask For (In One Minute or Less)


The idea sounded crazy: write two one-minute plays. Easy, you say? Nothing to it? All I could think of was, “Are you kidding me? I don’t know how to do that.” I’m used to working with a free and open sky, no limits. You want three acts and three hours, I can do that…I think. Ask me to weave a one-set, two-character, 90-minute play—sure, I kind of know what that looks like. But what can be said, shown, or done in 60 seconds?

I should back up and tell you how this all came to be. More than a year ago, InterAct Theatre Company’s producing artistic director Seth Rozin invited me and a gaggle of Philadelphia-area writers to participate in a meet and greet with Dominic D’Andrea, the New York-based producing artistic director of The One-Minute Play Festival.

The opportunity to spend three hours in a room full of other playwrights initially filled me with dread. Writers of plays can be a volatile lot: self-involved, envious, insecure, angry, and that’s just me. Unlike novelists and poets, even once we’ve thought of an idea, drafted it, revised it, and shown it to people we can trust, we still have to find a way to get the thing produced. And that last part of the process alone can be a minefield of bruised egos, petty jealousies, and back-bending obsequiousness.

Seth’s invitation also spoke of free snacks and beer, so I said I’d be there. Once inside the Adrienne theatre’s Skybox, I reconnected with old friends and became acquainted with new ones. I grabbed a beer, took deep breath, and prepared to give this thing a shot. Before Dominic introduced himself, we stood around making small talk for a while and, you know what, I almost kind of liked it.

Over the next 12 months, I attended all of the three or four sessions that Dominic led. His enthusiasm for one-minute plays and his interest in learning as much about the Philadelphia theatre scene put me at ease. All of us participated in exercises, brainstormed, and began a dialogue about what we most value about theater, the arts, and Philly in general.

By the last session—held this past spring—I noticed that I even looked forward to conversing again with my playwriting peers. Writing plays is not brick-laying or brain surgery, but it’s not easy either. It was enlightening and fun to talk shop, have a few laughs, and plug-in with other people doing what I’m trying to do. The more time I spent within this theater-community experience, the more my initial reluctance melted into a sense of gratitude that I’d been invited in the first place.

Still, it’s one thing to hang out and shoot the breeze with a group of artists. But how in the world was I going to tell a complete story in less than 60 seconds? In one minute you can be suggestive, hint at a larger world involving your characters, and, if you’re lucky, give the audience an intriguing experience. But beyond that, you’re limited by time; you can only do, say, and present so much in that miniscule time frame. How constricting, I thought.

After the last session, I went home and thought some more: Did writing a one-minute play mean starting with some heavy idea—death, identity, destiny—and molding it into a mind-blowing moment that would linger in the mind for days? Perhaps, I could set up a final reversal that, in the last seconds (57, 58, 59…), would shock and awe: “Granny is a serial killer! OMG!” But that seems cheap, doesn’t it? I’ve seen enough M. Night Shyamalan movies to know that after a while the surprise ending gets to be rather…unsurprising.

Between the deadline announcement and the deadline itself, I planned to write a whole host of one-minute plays. You know, write a play a day for two weeks and pick the two I liked best. (Invited playwrights were asked to submit two plays each.) Unfortunately, these best laid plans crumbled in the face of household chores, my kid’s dentist appointments, and the last three episodes of House of Cards. A minute long, I thought? No sweat. I can pump that out in, like, two minutes, right? Wrong. I avoided the work at all costs until the deadline began to loom. During those few weeks, I imagined three dozen others local playwrights sitting before their computer screens or note pads and suffering the same kind of artistic lethargy I was.

I also noticed that instead of writing I was reading a lot. At the top of my stack was a biography of Beat Generation patron saint and recovered junkie William S. Burroughs. The Beats represented a hole in my education, so I hoped to catch up. If there’s a BC/AD moment in the life of Burroughs it has to be what happened in 1951: While living in Mexico City, where his heroin/morphine addition was largely ignored by local authorities, a drunken Burroughs told a room full of party-goers that he and his wife Joan would perform a trick. He then asked his equally soused spouse to place a whiskey glass on top of her head; he’d shoot it off with his pistol. He missed. The bullet pierced Joan’s forehead, killing her instantly. This awful, tragic moment became my one minute. I revised it a few times and, along with a piece about two parents saying goodbye to their grown child, I send my entries to Dominic.

I still don’t know if I “did it right,” but that’s a feeling I’m used to as a playwright. As a comedy or drama of any length develops there is a lot of adding and subtracting. You want the thing to live and breathe in the mouths of real-life actors, and at times the sweet spot can be hard to locate. Writing a one-minute play forced me to sharpen my skills. 60 seconds, when you count out-loud, is a long time. A lot can happen, but it doesn’t have to. Characters say many things (quickly) or say almost nothing at all.

Although limited by the clock, the one-minute form opened a new world of possibilities and, ironically, provided an unexpected kind of freedom: the freedom not to too think hard or agonize too much over what comes out because there is no next moment. It begins; it’s over. The beauty of the form is just that: it asks you to reckon with a single, fleeting moment—to take a snapshot like one in your family album. And if our modest plays evoke cracked smile or a pregnant pause or a small sigh of recognition in those who see them, well, what more can you ask?


-David Robson


The First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival in Partnership with InterAct Theatre Company runs July 29-31st. Proceeds to benefit the Philadelphia New Play Initiave-a program dedicated to supporting and uplifting the voices of local Philadelphia Playwrights. Tickets are $20 and available here




Categories: Playwright Posts

Honest Livin’ in the City of Brotherly Love

July 16, 2013 3 comments



Honest Livin’ in the City of Brotherly Love



“A theater company whose mission is to support new and emerging voices just announced their season – it includes a play by a Pulitzer Prize winner. After reading the announcement, I laughed so loud that I woke the kids.”


I thought it was just another funny-cum-tragic status update. Instead it unleashed a firestorm of debate. Playwrights virtually bitch slapping producers. Producers typing shade at playwrights. Actors and directors chiming in with sighs and sympathies. In fact, some of the responses got so vicious that I deleted the post.


The reaction to my status update emphasized the need for an open and honest discussion about the reality of the new business of theatre – the post-recession, post-on-demand business of theatre and how these realities influence play selection. It is time to “come to Jesus,” as we say in the South, and openly admit that we face limitations in terms of what many of us can develop and produce. And that we need to share those limitations in order to best support the work that we can create.


Many of our conversations about play development and production selection feel like the uncomfortable break-up of a comfortable couple. You know what I mean. Neither party wants to hurt the other so you end up bickering over who gets the single copy of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” when you really should be discussing your unfulfilling sex life. You know. That conversation. However, how much better would life be in the long run, if we could just have the hard conversation and be honest with one another.


Because we know what the dishonest conversation leads to:


Playwrights are frustrated with producers because producers’ stated interests (as codified by mission statements, development guidelines, etc.) and the actual work that they select to produce or develop are not in sync. For example, the McCarter’s 2013 Lab Festival program with a goal to “build a bridge to emerging theater creators” gave a Lab slot this year to Steven Dietz, whom they touted as “one of America’s most widely-produced and published contemporary playwrights.” Now, I love the McCarter’s work and Dietz absolutely should have his work supported, but emerging playwrights were upset and disappointed that a slot went to such a well-established playwright.


Producers are frustrated with playwrights because they feel that playwrights are not honest about how their work fits into a larger aesthetic and, therefore, are submitting their work to every opportunity instead of to every opportunity that’s appropriate for their work. As a literary manager at a regional theater, over half the work that I received was completely at odds with our aesthetic, and this included work submitted by agents. Not only did it lead to frustration; it meant that I had less time to concentrate on the work that actually fit our needs, shortchanging everyone in the process.


However, we could relieve some of the anger, stress, and frustration while strengthening our community by simply being honest with one another.  Here are a few discussion questions to get the conversation started:


-What if producers let a playwright know within a shorter amount of time whether or not they will be producing the play? Instead of asking for constant rewrites or putting off production, season after season, maybe it would just be best to admit that a play is not a good fit and it’s time to move on.


-What if playwrights and their collaborators going through development hell of a new piece stopped submitting it for a season, to take the opportunity to step back and reevaluate whether it’s worth pushing forward?


What if the selection guidelines for submission opportunities that producers and developers release were more specific – for example, including information like maximum cast size?


-What if there are more festival showcases without a development component so that developmental resources are saved for works that artists are actually interested in developing? Many playwrights submit to development organizations even when they are not interested in continuing development on a piece simply because they want the work to be seen by industry professionals, but the playwright doesn’t have the connections to get the industry leaders to attend a self-produced reading.


-What if producers’ submission guidelines more accurately reflect their final selections, and playwrights stop script-bombing every opportunity that arises but instead submit to the select few that actually fit their script?


-What if playwrights – and it is incredibly hard to see your own work objectively – but what if we do a bit more research about the organizations that we submit to and are a bit more honest with ourselves about where our plays are in the arc of their development?


One of the reasons that I enjoy living and working in Philly is the “no bullshit” approach to life. Philadelphians speak their minds, for better or worse, whether or not you’re interested. They’ll speak their mind at home, on the subway, or at two a.m. at Quig’s Pub wearing a hairnet, high tops, and little else.


As a working playwright this honesty (“we like your voice but we’re not gonna produce your play due to X, Y, and Z, however, Such-and-Such over at So-and-So theater does this kind of thing”) is difficult to hear but, ultimately, helped me figure out where my voice fit within the theatre community. Then I could connect with collaborators who share my sensibilities when creating new work, and tailor my submissions to appropriate companies. As a result, I am more satisfied with the work I’m creating, and also feel that I’m refining and strengthening that voice. I’ve had three world premiere productions at three different professional theaters in Philadelphia within five years. Finding the right fit, quickly and honestly, was crucial to the success of all of those productions.


There are many reasons to make theatre in Philadelphia, from the thriving theatre scene with groups working in all types of theatre (university, fringe, LORT, etc.) in a variety of styles and aesthetics, to the relatively low cost of living which allows artists to buy homes and begin families. Of course, we have a few areas that we need to improve, especially when it comes to supporting emerging artists. However, I think that one of the keys to our success is that producers are pretty honest about what they’re interested in producing and theatre creators are generally honest about the type of work they are interested in making. This enables artists in the community to form strong, long lasting collaborations that yield exciting, innovative work.


Unfortunately, there will probably always be some writers who submit to every submission opportunity no matter how appropriate, and there will always be some producers who misrepresent what they are looking for. However, after working in theaters around the country for over a decade and settling in Philly for the past five years, for me the hard, honest conversation has lead to a more productive creative life than I could have ever imagined.


-Jacqueline Goldfinger


The First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival in Partnership with InterAct Theatre Company runs July 29-31st. Proceeds to benefit the Philadelphia New Play Initiave-a program dedicated to supporting and uplifting the voices of local Philadelphia Playwrights. Tickets are $20 and available here




Categories: Playwright Posts

The City of Big Shoulders




Chicago has a hell of a reputation to live up to. It’s a city that is famous for, among other things, burning to the ground and then rebuilding.  From scratch. It gave a home to the nation’s first skyscraper, and it’s been built on steel and sweat ever since. Even its nicknames promise something big: The City of Big Shoulders. The City That Works. The Second City.

The Second City. That’s a name that stings a little. As any second child can tell you, second just isn’t good enough. There is first, and there is ignored.  It puts a fire under your ass that can never, ever be allowed to go out. Because the moment you settle for second is the moment you allow yourself to be forgotten.

When I first moved to Chicago, I couldn’t figure out why everyone seemed to be draping themselves in the city’s flag. It’s everywhere: t-shirts, bumper stickers, artwork, logos, signs, tattoos, even dog collars. If you can squeeze four stars and a white bar on to it, someone in Chicago owns three. I had never lived in a place that felt so strongly about what it was, and what it was meant to do. It didn’t take me long to start understanding the feeling.

We are a churning mess of past, present and future. Unlike most of the Midwest, we’ve got a substantial amount of history to build on. Unlike most of the is East Coast, our history isn’t something we can live next to, it’s a ghost that haunts us. The great fire did more than just clean the slate; it made us realize that there was more we could do. The goal wasn’t to simply come back, it was to come back better. It wasn’t to replace, it was to exceed. We’ve never shaken that feeling.

We’re a city of drastic inequity. You can go from the opulence of the Gold Coast to the out-of-sight, out-of-mind South Side without too strenuous of a trip. You can flip from box scores for any of the city’s sports teams to obituaries of fifteen year olds killed in gun violence without really trying. Crime is a major issue, unless it’s not you’re not in “that” neighborhood, in which case you’re probably fine.

We’re a city that keeps trying. We’re not perfect. Some days, we don’t even look like we even approach “good”. But every day, we fight for it. We get angry, something that is so important. We remember what it is possible for us to accomplish.  Good enough just isn’t good enough. There is always room for improvement: personal, social, you name it, we know we can do better. And day by day, we do.

It’s not the same thing to any two people who talk about it. For some, it’s more grime than glamour. For others, this is the city they’ve been dreaming of all their life. In the same day, it can be what you curse when you wake up and what you thank God for when you go to sleep. But there’s one thing everyone can agree on; it’s home.

Like I said, it’s something different for everyone. I can’t speak for my fellow playwrights. But I can tell you what I know: To make art in Chicago, you can’t forget what this city is. Any of it. Ever. You need to know what the city means to you, and you need to have a working understanding of what it means to everyone else. I know that sounds impossible. Hell, even if it’s possible it sounds intimidating, if not  downright terrifying. But there’s a reason everyone in this city wears the flag. It’s part of us. The city gets into your pores, and you start thinking about what it means to be, well, Chicago. The stories you need to tell aren’t just your stories any more. They belong to you and your four million closest friends.

This is not a bashful city; if there is something to say, we’ll say it. This is not a timid city; we’ll listen to what you have to say and tell you exactly what we think of it. It’s this combination of knowing you have an audience mixed with the understanding that you have something to prove that makes Chicago theater special.

We can’t take anything for granted; every seat we fill is a ticket earned. Every person is different, and they want to know what we have to offer. Can we show them something they’ve never seen before? Can we give them a show they’ve seen dozens of times and make them think it’s brand new? We need to.  We know we have something to prove. We have to show that we’re part of this city. Prove that we’ve earned our spot here.

But we don’t do it just for them. Art in Chicago happens at the intersection of need and want. We face a drive to prove ourselves, but at the same time we know that we’re making the city a better place. We do this because we love it, and we know the people around us will love it too, as soon as we get a chance to show it to them. We are allowed to make our own rules, and speak our mind. We are allowed to be honest.

Let me say that again, just to make sure that I was clear; we are allowed to be honest. There is nothing more dangerous than an honest artist.

We are part of this city, just as it’s a part of us. We can say whatever we want about it. And it will listen. It may not like it, but it will listen. We can try to make it laugh, we can try to make it think. It is in our power to make it proud of everything it’s done, and ashamed of everything it still needs to do.  We do not need to lie, we do not need to pretend. After all, who can we trust if we can’t trust ourselves?

All of this is why I love Chicago, why I’ll always be proud to wear its flag. Permission to create, and expectation to succeed. A city that writhes and squirms and does everything it can to fix itself, to improve itself. To never stop growing. A city that won’t take no for an answer. A city that will not be ignored.

Chicago. It’s the City of Big Shoulders. It’s the City That Works. And you damn well better believe it delivers.


-Axel Arth


The Third Annual Chicago One-Minute Play Festival in partnership with Victory Gardens Theater is Monday June 17th and Tues June 18th. Tickets are only $15 for almost 100 brand new plays, and are available here.



Categories: Playwright Posts

Announcing The First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival With InterAct Theatre Company

June 10, 2013 1 comment


ompf-logo-2 copy

The One-Minute Play Festival & InterAct Theatre Company


The First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival

Monday July 29th, Tuesday July 30th, and Wednesday July 31st at 8PM

At InterAct Theatre Company

2030 Sansom Street, Philadelphia, PA 19103

(215) 568-8077

Tickets are $20 and availablehere 

After a year of community and consensus building workshop sessions with the Philadelphia artistic community, the First Philadelphia One-Minute Play Festival will be the result of a yearlong collaboration between InterAct Theatre Company and NY-based company, The One-Minute Play Festival. One half of the proceeds from which will benefit the fledgling The Philadelphia New Play Initiative.

One-minute plays by nearly 50 established and emerging Philadelphia playwrights were commissioned for this event, and were developed with OMPF’s playmaking process.

Featuring Brand New One-Minute Plays By:

Ian August, P. Seth Bauer, Barbara Bellman, BJ Burton, Joe Byers, Jim Christy, Joy Cutler, WIllaim DiCanzio, Paula Diehl, Alex Dremann, Quinn Eli, Jeremy Gable, Jacqueline Goldfinger, Brian Grace-Duff, Katharine Clark Gray, Lindsay Harris-Friel, Warren Hoffman, Michael Hollinger, Ken Kaissar, Arden Kass, Sharon Kling, Julia Lopez, Sarah Mantell, Kathryn Petersen, David Robson, Jackie Ruggiero, John Stanton, Samuel Toll, Walt Vail, Nick Wardigo, David Strattan White, Douglas Williams, A. Zell Williams, Kimmika Williams-Witherspoon, Robin Rodriguez, Mark Costello, Bill D’Agostino, Annie Such, Sara Madden, Chris Davis, Kate Brennan, Elizabeth Scanlon, Wally Zialcita, and Seth Rozin


Directed By

Daniel Student, Nicholas Gray, Seth Reichgott, Liam Castellan, Meghann Williams, Tina Brock,  Terry Brennan, Noah Herman, and Michael Durkin

Curated By OMPF Producing Artistic Director, Dominic D’Andrea


The One-Minute Play Festival (OMPF) is an NYC-based theatre company, founded by Dominic D’Andrea, which works in partnership with theatres who share playwright or community-specific missions across the country. OMPF creates local playwright-focused community events, using a specific playmaking process, with the goal of promoting the spirit of radical inclusion by representing the culture of playwrights of different age, gender, race culture, and points of career. OMPF attempts to reflect the theatrical landscape of local artistic communities by creating a dialogue between the collective conscious and the individual voice.

OMPF is the only major American One-Minute Play Festival, and has developed a specific methodology and ideology for one-minute playmaking and community engagement.

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InterAct is a theatre for today’s world, dedicated to commissioning, developing and producing new and contemporary plays that explore the social, political and cultural issues of our time.  Currently celebrating its 25th Anniversary season, InterAct is the Philadelphia region’s leading producer of new plays.

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Categories: One-Min Play Info