It’s so hard to believe that we’re already in our last week of By the Dawn’s Early Light! While we will surely have more blog posts as we wrap up our run, our playwright Mel turned in his final, very contemplative, very heartwarming post last night. (Sigh.)
And the clock begins to wind down.
How is it possible that as I write this, we as a company are about to embark on our final week of performances? Six more shows and the theatre will go dark. Costumes and make-up removed for the final time. Props placed in a box for some other times, others given as remembrance of a joyous creative experience, and others discarded like so many unwanted toys.
It’s going to be tough, no doubt. It has been some ride for me. The journey from first phone call, to table read, run through and first performance – first laugh being heard from the audience, as well as the sniffle of a tear, will be always remembered.
As Arturo Castro said: “Dude, we’re on f**king Theatre Row, bro!” – Yes we were, and we done good.
I have sat in the back of the theatre on many a night marveling as I watch Walter, our director, hunched over the control panel, intensely watching the performance, smiling, shaking his head, cheering, wipe a tear away and still continue to take notes as if it were the first day of rehearsals.
I watch Kevin move deeper and deeper into Freddie’s journey with the ease of a great painter who knows just what strokes are needed to fill in the colors of his canvas.
I still find myself welling up when Karen says: “Victor, when you leave it’s going to be quiet. I don’t like that kind of quiet.”
This has been a truly rewarding collaboration. I have made new friends and have enriched others. The seeds of future collaborations have been planted with the work that we have done as a company.
How did we all get here? Hard work and trust are often good starts to any collaborative endeavor and this one was no exception to that rule, but I think there were other factors involved as well – factors that perhaps in a month or so, when I find myself at a quiet moment, glass of wine in hand, it will come to me. But for now this will have to do: The Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer Kahlil Gibran once wrote, “You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.”
To the ensemble cast: Kevin, Arturo, Gordon, Alicia, Wynn, Camilo, Karen, Mark, Gustavo, Flor, Damian and Jorge – thank you for truly giving of yourself and to your art to brings these stories so beautifully to life.
To Walter and Allison, you remind one constantly of why we do what we do with this life of ours in the theatre and the both of you do it inspirationally.
Yeah, I will be saying the same words as Angie does to Victor once the final curtain comes down on Sunday – “I don’t like that kind of quiet too.”
… “Midnight Mass”!
Here are Joey Castillo’s photos of our second half of By the Dawn’s Early Light.
Remember: we’re only running through Sunday August 28th, and it’s only a 55-seat theater… so get your tickets soon at www.telecharge.com.
We hope to see you at Theatre Row!
Our wonderful photographer Joey Castillo took these great photos of “Los Embrujados” in By the Dawn’s Early Light. And of course, he also took photos of…
Hurray! We opened By the Dawn’s Early Light last night! And to a sold-out house no less. Thank you to the wonderful audience who came out to see the show. (And for those of you who haven’t gotten their tickets yet, be forewarned: it’s a 55-seat house and fills up FAST. So get your tickets soon!)
In honor of this momentous occasion, we thought we’d share with you a few of the photos that the remarkable Joey Castillo took during tech rehearsals, and a blog entry that Mel wrote after attending a tech rehearsal this week.
Waking up this morning I could not help, but feel it was going to be a special day.
I had several early morning appointments with various school representatives for possible positions as a theatre instructor this coming September, and along with my teaching credentials and artistic resumes I handed each school representative a postcard for my play, By the Dawn’s Early Light. They were rightfully impressed with the artwork by the gifted Katherine Miles Jones and with the subject matter that I was tackling. But most of all, they were impressed by the fact that the plays were being performed on Theatre Row, that cool block on mid-town Manhattan.
After I finished with my meet-and-greets I was to my other job of the moment and that is playwright for Apple Core Theatre Company. As I walked uptown from East Broadway (Yeah, I did say walk. I’m a big fan of walking.), and as I eventually turned the corner and headed to the stage door entrance, it suddenly dawned on me that I was in Theatre Row… but not as a theatre goer, but for lack of a better word, a “theatre-maker.”
As I entered the theatre space our crew — lighting designer, Jordan Acosta; set designer, Adam Kaynan; along with Allison (Producer), Barbra (Associate Producer)Walter (Director) and Farin (Stage manager) — were busy with setting things up on stage. It was really happening. Theatre was being created.
After a while as the actors started to come in they all had the same “this is cool” smile on their faces; I must tell you that as an actor in New York City I have performed in spaces that were barely more than a black box with three chairs in the middle of some block on the far reaches of the earth where even our beloved city rodents wouldn’t be caught hanging out in. Thus is the journey of the New York City actor, but every so often you get the chance to perform in a space that can truly be called nothing else but a “THEATRE,” and Theatre Row is such a space. You can feel the energy in the air. The pride in the actors as they take in their surroundings and what will be their “HOME” for the next three weeks.
It’s an awesome tribute to all the hard work that Walter and Allison and Barbara (the Apple Core Theatre Company Crew) have put into this production. The actors feel it, and I most certainly do.
We finished up our last rehearsal at MTC yesterday for By the Dawn’s Early Light, before we pack up everything we own and move it on into the theater. Mel took a moment to write down some observations about one of the last rehearsals.
The final rehearsals at MTC prior to our landing at Theatre Row have been fascinating their up and down nature.
Little things are starting to take shape. Nerves are popping here and there. You can feel the actors staking out their little areas of real estate as each tries to focus on the task at hand. At a recent rehearsal there was much buzzing going around and the space was filled with much activity. Farin Rebecca Loeb, our lovely stage manager, is as focused as ever, and Walter our director is on his knees measuring the stage dimensions. Our costume designer, David L. Zwiers has come with a truly wonderful bag of goodies and the actor’s behavior brings a smile to my face. They each remind me of a child visiting FAO Schwartz for the first time as they try on their costumes, play and become familiar with their props.
I sit there with an amused look on my face as I watch the actors walk around in costume, running lines with each other, or in a corner going over their scripts and suddenly for a brief moment I forget that I’m watching a group of wonderful, hard working actors, who have become my friends, but I no longer see them.
Who do I see? I see Richard talking with David. I see Nadia listening to Arturo and I see Victor teasing Angie and finally I see Freddie brooding. Yeah, what I’m seeing is the characters that I have created walking around and doing their thing in front of my eyes. Some glance at me and smile as if saying: “Yeah, here I am. What’s up?”
It’s quite a surreal feeling, but it’s also a wonderful feeling to see actors fully engaged in the work that you’ve created and I am humble by their compassion and commitment. T
he fantasy of seeing my characters come to life is broken by the sound of Farin’s voice commanding the troops to “Listen up people!” and as the actors stand at attention, Farin walks among them breaking down the “rules of the game.” Meaning, “This is YOUR prop table. These are YOUR props and YOU are RESPONSIBLE for them” speech. My brain suddenly begins to drift and I get visions of Lee Marvin addressing his “Dirty Dozen” crew.
As you can probably guess that at this point in the rehearsal process I am a watcher, an audience member, an encourager, a living playwright sitting behind a desk listening carefully to make sure his words (and ONLY his words) are being spoken… and finally and most importantly, a cheerleader and supportive voice, an arm around a shoulder for my actors, my director, stage manager, and finally to my dramaturgy/Producer.
It’s been a heck-of-journey. It’s going be tough to say goodbye to the rehearsal space at Manhattan Theatre Club, it’s been like another home, but our real home awaits us on Theatre Row, and there we shall be and there we shall shine. I have been reminded from time to time watching and listening to actors recite their lines, bringing these characters and their individual worlds to life, of a quote from Stella Adler, the legendary actor teacher and Group Theatre member: “The Theatre Is A Spiritual And Social X-Ray Of Its Time.”
I believe with our production of By The Dawn’s Early Light we are fulfilling Ms. Adler’s decree.
Mel writes about a subject matter close to his heart: the first responders of September 11.
It never ceases to amaze me that, whenever you are writing about a particular subject matter, the themes that you are exploring seems to jump out at you from every newscast you come across or any periodical your eyes happen to glance at. Case in point: the subject matter of those heroic, selfless first responders and their current emotional and physical struggles.
It has been ten years since that deeply wounding September morning and many events are being scheduled to commemorate the anniversary of those horrific attacks, some of those events will be celebratory in nature (yes, this is true), while still others will consist of somber remembrances of family, friends and the many loved ones known and unknown who lost their lives. And as with any commemorating event many will border on the exploitative. But the one thing and the only thing that has really struck me has been the recent loss of so many first responders.
Like FDNY Fire Marshall Steve Mosiello, who worked long hours at Ground Zero after the 9/11 attacks who died of esophageal cancer on 7/15 of this year… or Police officer, Robert Oswain, a Bronx cop who passed away in May of this year, who was only 42 and served in recovery efforts at Ground Zero who also died of cancer. There are others who were also first responders have also recently passed away from or are now struggling with a similar form of cancer.
Many first responders – as well as people who lived near the lower Manhattan site on September 11 – believe their cancer is connected to the cloud of toxins that bloomed from the destruction of the 110 story World Trade Center. But sadly, a federal review by the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health determined that “very little” evidence had been reported on the link between the massive toxic cloud and cancer.
In my play “Midnight Mass,” when confronted with suggestions that his father, Richard a former fireman and first responder should exercise more, his son, David responds with: “Have you really looked at him lately? The man hardly’s got any wind left after what he’s sucked up, plus his back is for shit and on top of all that he’s got some unknown ground zero disease eating him up from the inside out like a school of piranha fish.”
What defines a hero? According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a hero is: “A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life.”
I think this truly describes all of the first responders, police officers, fire fighters. They must be honored and taken care of, and not discarded like yesterday’s news.
Now that our playwright Mel Nieves isn’t rewriting By the Dawn’s Early Light, he has time to reflect and write about about his writerly process. 
As the final weekend of July approaches, we (the casts and creative team) just finished a second run-through of both plays. The script for “Los Embrujados” has been locked-in (meaning, set in stone – no more re-writes) for about a week or so, except for a dash of some Spanish thrown in for flavoring here and there. It’s been pretty much sitting back and taking in the actors as they slowly-but-surely make the roles their own, and listening to Walter’s (Walter Hoffman our director) insightful guiding of the actors as they search for the proper tone for the story they are telling and experiencing.
With “Miidnight Mass,” it’s been a bit a little different. For the most part, the script has been locked in for a about a week or so, but something was bothering me. In fact, it bothered me so much that I would wake up in the middle of the night with a single thought: “What was missing?” It wasn’t until watching a documentary about the war in Afghanistan on Netflix one late, late night that a light finally flickered into my brain.
Though the additional snippet of dialogue was not large in word count, it was large as to the impact it had for the scene and for the actors. It is always a satisfying feeling to have actors look at additional dialogue and not smile because it’s simply more lines, but to see them smile and say, “Thank you” for writing the note that they were struggling to reach and find.
During this last run-through of both plays, I couldn’t properly listen to them in their entirety. My thoughts were with the new lines that I had added for a very important scene in “Midnight Mass” and that’s all I was waiting for. I had the new lines written on a piece of paper and as the scene approached and the sequence began I listened and hoped that these new words would work. And with our wonderful actors, Alicia Fitzgerald and Kevin Prowse, the new lines hit the proper note and tone. Afterwards the actors in unison said: “That’s exactly what we needed. Thank you.”
So what happens now when all the re-writes have been completed and the scripts are now locked, so to speak… is the playwright still needed? Do I simply say: “See ya on opening night!” I don’t know about other playwrights, but this playwright isn’t going away anytime soon. And to be honest, it’s not a matter of protecting my work, but it’s a matter of helping the actors when they are stuck or in need of clarification regarding a moment in text or simply a line of dialogue. It’s funny the majority of the questions from the actors are along the lines of “What were you feeling when you work this?” rather than what the character I’m writing about is going through. It has also been interesting meeting with the set and sound designer as they ask me my thoughts regarding certain things that I describe in the script.
It’s funny: a theatre rehearsal space is my favorite place to be at. I can spend hours and days in that room with actors and writers going over things in a text or just talking shop. In this space is where I feel more myself, more intellectually and spiritually confident. All writing I believe is to some extent autobiographical and there ‘s a lot of me in both scripts –only it’s been more so with “Midnight Mass” (not to take anything away from “Los Embrujados,” which I am most proud of).
It’s been a very interesting process with “Midnight Mass,” and I believe that reason is because it was a play that I originally wrote almost five years ago. I’m obviously not the same person or playwright that I was five years ago and it’s been an interesting and most fascinating of collaborations between the voice I had then, with the voice I have now. I think it’s been a good collaboration between the two voices. I can see the difference in my writing style between then and now and I believe both voices have blended well with each other.
I hope when you come see the plays, you yourself will think so too.
You may know that Mel Nieves wrote By the Dawn’s Early Light… but did you know he’s also an actor, and member of the award-winning and supremely fantastic Labyrinth Theater Company?
… Oh, you did? Well, do you know what performance inspired him to get into acting in the first place?
Gotcha. Go buy tickets to his amazing play, and then read on for more info on the great and powerful Mel.

How did you end up in New York City?
By birth. I was born in Lenox Hill hospital on Park Avenue and was raised in Harlem on 115th street and Lenox Avenue
What’s your neighborhood? My current neighborhood is Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.
What’s your favorite part about Bay Ridge? The quiet and peacefulness of the neighborhood. Very Italian. Plus we have the best Pizza on the East Coast hands down.
Least favorite? The N train or as I like to call it “The Never Coming Train”
Why did you decide to pursue acting? My first exposure to acting was while I was a Police Science major at John Jay College, but I did not seriously pursue the study of theatre until I enrolled in The William Esper Studios in New York.
What profession other than acting would you pursue? (No need to be realistic in terms of your knowledge or skill-set.) Well my original plan in life was to be a cartoonist, but not just any old cartoonist. My dream from a very young was to be a first assistant cartoonist to the great Charles M. Schultz. I wanted to help him continue to create his iconic Peanuts characters. My other dream was to be a police officer. One of my childhood heroes was Frank Serpico.
What’s the greatest challenge of being an NYC-based actor? Economics. It’s always a hustle to find a gig that pays well enough to cover your over-head, but does not interfere with your pursuit of a career in the arts. I’m very fortunate in that I teach as well and that the arts organizations that I work with have been very supportive of my artistic pursuits.
Was there a performance, play, or actor that made you want to go into this business? Yes, but I didn’t know it at the time. When I was thirteen I saw the film Serpico and I wanted to be THAT guy. I often thought it was the character that he was playing that I wanted to be, and for a while it was, but deep down it was the fact that the actor playing him, Al Pacino, seemed to be a guy I could relate to, a guy from the street like myself.
Funny thing when I took my first acting class at John Jay College the man teaching the course, an actor named John “Gus” Fleming played the role Dr. Metz, in the film. Gus also became a father figure/mentor to me and I owe him so much. He passed away more than ten years ago, but I still hear his lessons in my head whenever I’m involved in a project. He was a true New York actor. He was a beautiful actor and a great man.
Favorite playwright? Arthur Miller. Favorite play? All My Sons.
If you could play any theater role, disregarding your age/gender/skillset (etc.), what role would that be? Oh that’s an easy one. I actually have two. One is Danny Saunders in Chaim Potok’s great masterwork The Chosen. The other is J. Pierpont Finch in How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying. I used be quite boyish looking when I was younger and people often told me that I should audition for that role, but the one hitch was that I couldn’t sing a lick or dance a step.

Our playwright, Mel, was kind enough to write a little bit about his revision process. And while we did commission “Los Embrujados,” please note that we did not pay him to write this post.
It is exactly 12:48 in the morning as I write this blog. Trains were not kind tonight coming in from the South Bronx where I was performing in City Parks Foundation Summer Stages production of Sangre, a contemporary adaptation of Federico Garcia Lorca’s classic Blood Wedding by Mando Alvarado and presented by Time Warner. As the Four Tops’ “Baby I Need Your Lovin’” plays in the background of my Bay Ridge, Brooklyn apartment, I’m thinking, “Is there such a thing as good pressure?”

In my experience I would have to say yes. I’m a deadline-type-of-guy. I set certain goals for myself, set a date and hope that the writer’s journey that I’ve decided to partake in comes to a fruitful and promising start, as well as conclusion. Which leads me to the roads I began to travel following the next-to-final table reads of both “Los Embrujados” and “Midnight Mass”.
The first table-reads of the plays were as not as painful as I expected them to be. Hearing your stuff read out loud for the first time is never ever an easy thing to hear. Though I’ve grown more objective of my work and can step back see and hear what the problems in the text may be, it is still a tough thing to go through. As I sat there at the second reading, eyes closed, ears wide open, listening to my words, hoping that all the notes hit just so, I listened to all the actors carefully taking in the natural music of their voices and cadences. I was looking, as I often do, for that spark of inspiration from the actor who adds his or her spin on a line that may lead me to contemplate the possibilities of that line, and what that line can do, and how I can best take advantage of that actor’s particular gifts.
After the reading Walter (my director) and Allison (my producer/dramaturgy-savior) noticed that my spirits were not as high as theirs regarding what was just read. I didn’t think it was all bad, mind you, but I felt in my heart of hearts that I could do better and that the actors deserved much more from me as a writer. That Friday evening Allison, Walter and myself had meeting at Edgar’s Cafe on the Upper West Side. Much was discussed and debated… well not really, but I need some tension to make this blog a little interesting. We were actually on the same page as to what my duty was.
I must take a moment to discuss the collaboration that I am having with Walter and Allison — especially Allison, who truly has been a supportive and most encouraging voice during this entire process. There’s been an almost uncanny instant trust between us, which is most rare. But I think, in fact, we all three are aware of the responsibilities we each have regarding this project. Not just on a artistic level, but on a larger human story level — what the themes of the two plays mean to us and the people of this beautiful city, that we each love ever so dearly. After our Friday meeting was completed, hugs and exchanges good night were passed and we went our separate ways. The most significant moment of our meeting came as we stood to leave and I said: I know how to fix this. They both smiled as I did and I went on my way.
The next 24 hours can be best described as a creative tunnel vision, as I went over page by page each section of each play, retracing the steps and the journeys of each character… and then it happened. I believe it was at the 90 minute mark when I heard them speak — yes, this does actually happen. Writing or any creative form is not so much an intellectual exercise, though much thought does go into the creative process. But the goal is to achieve a creative-unconscious in which one feels as if they are “channeling” people. On Saturday evening, well before the clock was to strike twelve, I handed in the final drafts of each play and within less than two hours both Allison and Walter responded with excited emails.
I had cracked the code, so to speak. My brain was finally at peace and I was able to close my eyes that night knowing that I had giving the best of myself to this most special of projects.