Visible Language: how a show killed my faith in the hearing people, part I
It has been three years since I abruptly left the production of Visible Language the day before it premiered.
To catch you up: Visible Language was a disastrous theatre production by a Washington, D.C. company — We’ll call this company “The Company”. The production premiered at Gallaudet University in the fall of 2014, around the 150th anniversary of the university. The show was a musical about Edward Miner Gallaudet (the founder of Gallaudet University) and Alexander Graham Bell (the prominent leader of the oralism movement, which was the movement of teaching deaf children how to speak verbally). The plot revolves around their battle that would determine the direction of Deaf education for nearly a century.
Yes. It was a musical. There was a fucking musical about deaf children.
This is the horrendous story of a deaf assistant director of the show.
*Note: this blog entry contains a horrifying amount of the words “signing” and “singing.” I apologize for the strain of eyes this may cause.
June 2014.
I am extending my stay in Washington, D.C. to participate in a wonderful production of Titus Andronicus with a great company who were very considerable with the deaf community.
As the end of the said production approached,I learn of an exciting opportunity — to be an assistant director of Visible Language, a musical centering on the battle of Deaf education between Edward Miner Gallaudet and Alexander Graham Bell.
In a blur, I went from being notified of the opportunity and meeting the director at the end of the last show of Titus. My enthusiastic self put on a best performance for the director. He expressed interest in hiring me on the spot.
A few days later, Valen (the love of my life) has landed in D.C. and we were packing up for our direct flight to Paris. We took a break to grab some grubs at the five guys.
I remember this so vividly.
Just as we were passing the NOMA metro stop on our way back to the packing, I got an email notification on my phone. It was from the The Company director.
I opened it immediately.
I was crushed.
It was the first time I’ve experienced direct discrimination.
I wish I’d kept the email. It was sent to my Gallaudet address and it is long lost now. The email told me that I was a great candidate but the company is looking for someone who could communicate with voice for it would provide a smoother relationship between the production and the upcoming cast.
I wrote an email to the Gally theater department because they were collaborating the production with them (to be premiered at Elstad on Gally’s 150th anniversary). I struggled in writing this email as I was shocked to my core and absolutely livid. It took me a few drafts to successfully write a collected and calm piece.
After sending it, I was promptly informed that the production has been halted and the matter will be solved. Mere hours later, I received an email from Gally informing me that it was being handled.
I fly off to Paris at the end of June.
August.
I am enjoying a beer off on a patio off the Vltava River in Cesky Krumlov, Czech.
August 15th, to be specific.
I get an email from The Company, two months since I last heard from them.
The director is apologizing to me for an “abrupt and insensitive email before [I] left.” (This time around, the emails are exchanged via my personal account and I still have it)
I ignored it and did not reply until I touched ground in Minnesota. It was there that I made a viable mistake of accepting his apologizes and I was now the assistant director of Visible Language.
I have not read the script. It occurred to me way too late, I should’ve asked for the script first.
September.
Valen and me haul our asses to D.C. I start my internship at Ford’s Theatre and the production of Visible Language.
I receive the script for the show the night before my first day working with them. I read only half of it. In hindsight — I should’ve finished the script.
I go in the next day to audition the remaining characters of the show. The characters we needed to cast were: 1) Edward Miner Gallaudet (EMG), advocate of sign language education. 2) Alexander Graham Bell (AGB), the Darth Vader of our community. 3) Laura Redden Searing, a prolific Deaf poet who holds an uncanny habit of communicating via writing notes instead of sign language. 4) Ennals Adams, the earliest black student of Gallaudet University. 5) Professor Fay, a trusted colleague of Edward Miner Gallaudet. 6) Ensemble of Gallaudet students.
This was the first time I met the playwright. She came in carrying a pile of books.
The titles read “A Fair Chance in the Race of the Life: The Role of Gallaudet University in Deaf History,” “Never the Twain Shall Meet: Bell, Gallaudet, and the Communications Debate,” “History of the College for the Deaf 1857–1907,” and various biographies on AGB, EMG, and Helen Keller.
Look at this lady. Well versed in our history. A good first impression.
After dropping the books, she introduced herself to me in sign language with the proficiency of Koko the Gorilla. Oh, she cannot sign.
I didn’t let it bother me much. I’ve should let it bother me.
The audition(s) was weird.
There were four people that came in that day. The events that transpired around and between the auditions are difficult for me to explain because there was a mighty clash of two worlds, the Deaf and the hearing.
What you see below is my best attempt at breaking down of the bizarre audition. I’ve broken them down in numbers. Each number represent the four candidates that came in. Keep in mind that long hours passed between the four auditions.
There were two polar groups present at the audition. There’s “we” who are the Gallaudet University theatre department chair, the assistant stage manager, and I. “We” are the ones who are deaf and represent the Deaf voice in this production. There’s “they” who are the playwright and the director. “They” are hearing and they rely on the main stage manager as an interpreter.
- An American Sign Language interpreter employed by our own Gallaudet University.
He, obviously, was proficient in both spoken english and American Sign Language (as the real EMG would be). He did a monologue in sign language then he did his song audition. As soon as he left, there was immediate mixed reaction. We reacted with praises and we had no doubt that he was our EMG. They responded that his singing was terrible.
You see, this was a musical about deaf people. Reading that sentence alone should’ve caused enough confusion for the plug to be pulled. That clearly did not happen.
So, at the end of the first audition we were already in an all-out verbal war over what the priorities were. Should we employ those who sang the best or should we employ those who signed the best?
Our view was a no-brainer. The Company is premiering a fucking show about Deaf education at Gallaudet fucking University. A talent in signing is the clear frontrunner here.They did not share our views.
After some philosophical berating by our part, we were fortunate enough to learn that Gallaudet University did, in fact, employ a former star of a Harvard quartet. Despite his off-the-road position in the business department, the Harvard star also used to be quite a big star in a number of musicals. He agreed to audition for us.
Our war is at an armistice… for now.
2. A hearing actor with no background in sign language. A well- known actor of Washington D.C.
He did a song audition. We sat staring at him with no idea what he was spitting about. His song, however, reached the hearts of the hearing viewers. This song cemented an idea in the playwright’s head that he was without doubt our EMG.
After he had finished, on the playwright’s orders, the assistant stage manager took him to the back room to teach him some guerrilla sign language. While he (and one of our soldiers) was gone, we expressed disbelief to the playwright’s view. How the hell would Gallaudet’s robust community react to a EMG without prior knowledge in sign language?
He came back. He auditioned a scene signing better than the playwright. Hey, not bad.
We were very resistant to casting him but eventually agreed to cast him as AGB after we’ve auditioned the Harvard star in the later days. This agreement was in compromise of our differing priorities: signing vs singing.
3. A Deaf woman proficient in sign language with a background in oralism.
This would be the worst part of our audition if the director did not propose casting a white man for Ennals Adams, the first black student at Gallaudet University.
This woman came in to try out for the Laura Redden Searing role. She won the role easily but the process was ugly.
The logistics of this show was to double-cast all of the roles save for EMG and AGB, our two big boys. The double-cast is to meet the chorus needs of this show. To my deaf understanding, the purpose of the chorus is to orchestrate a dramatic scene with music.
The director decided that Lauren Redden Searing, given that she would not speak or sign in her scenes, would serve as a member in the vocal chorus. Apparently, he felt like there weren’t enough members in the vocal chorus despite the fact we ended up with 5 signers against 10 singers in the chorus.
So, he asked her to sing Happy Birthday.
After some pestering, she told him — in sign language — that she was not comfortable doing so.
In horror, I watched the director’s words translated through an interpreter — “Come on. You know the song, don’t you? Just say it.”
It was queasy as fuck.
It was equivalent to the old days where old hags would slap deaf children on the hands for signing.
He persisted for a bit more. This culminated in the Gally rep marching him to the back room, assumingly, to engage in a dialogue on how it is totally not okay to do that.
At the end, the actress would sing in the chorus. I have no idea how it got to that point.
4. A pair of Gallaudet students.
Two Gallaudet students came in to try out for the ensemble of Gallaudet students. ← Gallaudet students acting as Gallaudet students, authentic casting at your finest.
It was an enjoyable audition as the director assigned me to direct the audition. The director seemed to enjoy it himself but I am certain that he was a victim of a perpetual nice smile that hearing people often wear when they encounter people with disabilities.
At the end of the audition, we discussed how to cast them. We made a sensible proposal to cast one of them as Ennals Adams.
It was around this moment that the director suggested me as Ennals Adams. Let me repeat — he suggested me, the white-as-fuck assistant director to become Ennals Adams.
In this fuckery of a discussion, we resolved to contact a well-known black deaf actor to come in and try out for Ennals.
The weirdest part was that both of the students who auditioned were black.
We’ve casted our entire cast. The characters are the following:
- Edward Miner Gallaudet
- Alexander Graham Bell
- Mabel Bell (wife of AGB)
- Helen Keller (if you don’t know who Helen Keller is, go and read some history books)
- Anne Sullivan (beloved miracle worker for Helen Keller)
- Ennals Adams
- Laura Redden Searing
- Dr. Edward Fay
- Carrie Harrison (some lady, I don’t remember)
- Samuel Randall (a dude)
- Society Lady (extra vocal chorus member)
- Student (deaf)
- Student (deaf)
- Student (deaf)
- Student (deaf)
- Copy boy (extra vocal chorus member)
I hurried in the Elstad annex of Gallaudet University for a production meeting.
This was around the time that I’ve learned they’ve hired a second assistant director. In my 18 theatrical productions as a student of Gallaudet University, I’ve not seen a second assistant director. The word “second” is an odd adjective for an assistant director of a small theater company in Washington, D.C.
I learned this through an email from the director regarding a callback of an audition. The email was composed of a schedule of auditions and a question about whether my reading of the script went well (regretfully, I’ve not read the entire script yet. The only time I’ve put off a reading was when I was a high school student).
The email ended with this sentence — “I am also forwarding this schedule to [second assistant director], who has agreed to work with us as a second assistant director (I can never have too many!).”
The second assistant director was a cool guy. I loved working with him in a couple of productions in the past and I still love him. But, I thought what the shit.
We’re almost at a full circle here. The director had gone from expressing his interest in me as an assistant director.. to informing me that he cannot have a deaf assistant director.. to apologizing for his crude email.. to hiring a hearing second assistant director who could sign.
Later my suspicions would be confirmed, the second assistant director would serve informally as the main assistant director because he could speak spoken English.
I was the last one to arrive at the meeting. I had just finished my hours at Ford’s theatre and I was very tired.
I do not remember the meeting very well but I do remember there were some serious and heated arguments between the deaf view and the hearing view. I do remember being vocal at some point.
Why I did not quit by now is beyond me.
I should’ve finished the script.
