Storytelling 'in the moment' drives Daisey
Mike Daisey sits at a desk and tells stories. With only a pad of legal paper holding a few notes, the remarkably expressive performance artist riffs on cubicle culture, 9/11, creativity, and
Daisey is bringing three shows to the American Repertory Theatre's Zero Arrow Theatre. The new "Invincible Summer" (through April 29) is about 9/11 and his experiences moving to New York, mixed with the quirky history of the New York City subway. "Monopoly" (May 1-5) is the tale of the development of the popular game along with the stories of Nikola Tesla, Thomas Edison, and corporate takeovers. "Tongues Will Wag" (workshop performance May 8) explores the obsessive humanizing of pets and the way they can be a placeholders for children.
Daisey recently spoke by phone from his home in New York about his work.
Q How do you describe what you do?
A I think of myself as a monologist. But I think I'm most attracted to obscure, strange, secret , and technical things.
Q You've been called a curious graduate student for the research you do about far-flung topics. Why is the research so important?
A I think all my shows are an amalgam of biographical and autobiographical material, so I do research in both areas. When telling stories that have happened to you, you have to reflect on what happened to you factually and assess your emotional record of [it], because memory is a terrible medium for accuracy but a wonderful medium for emotional truth. At their best, the personal story provides the engine and the drive that makes the monologue work. . . . The scientific facts and history that are interwoven help extend the story into other directions.
Q After all this research, you perform extemporaneously. Why?
A I don't write any of the monologues down because I think my feelings change when I'm forced to write something. We're trying to create these living stories. They're told the night they're told, not memorized , and prepared from a script. . . . Really good preachers, teacher, lawyers, people who are good at speaking off the cuff have this wonderful sense of tempo. The audience can feel them working in the moment. It's like freestyle rapping. . . . I'm creating the story as we go.
Q Does your success depend on the audience's response?
A It's a symbiotic relationship. I'm performing, and I'm listening to them as they watch. It's a covenant between the two of us. In order to have a fruitful dialogue, each side has to trust. When that trust is extended, when they become open and extended, there are moments when we are lifted out of ourselves.
Q You collaborate with your wife, Jean-Michele Gregory. How does that work?
A Her job is huge. She serves as the editor and dramaturg for the entire undertaking. She watches every show. We don't have any rehearsal ahead of time. We meet afterward, and we talk. We discuss point by point how the show went, specific decisions made in that moment, and how to navigate situations in a better way. It's almost always about consolidating and intensifying moments and movements in the show so they achieve their ends gracefully.
Q How do you develop stories?
A They grow in the back of my mind. Sometimes they're like babies, waiting to be born, sometimes they're like cancer. Sometimes subjects are personal and painful. That's the difference between capitalism and a calling. You know it's time to give birth to the show. I try really strenuously not to think about whether events from my life will be in my monologues. We have nine full monologues now, and I'd say the most interesting things that happen to me are not in there.
Q Do you have to be obsessed with a topic to turn it into a monologue?
A There are lots of things that I think I'm obsessed with that don't become stories. The things I get excited about have to pass this test: Are they things we need to talk about right now? Is it something people are thinking about but haven't said out loud yet? Of course, there's a certain degree of luck.
Q "Invincible Summer" did not get great reviews in New York. Do you think it's hard for New Yorkers to get any perspective on 9/11?
A The response from the audience was very powerful at the Public Theatre, but underlying the intensity is this wariness. People are tired of being manipulated emotionally and politically by this story. Very rarely is it illuminated as an event that actually happened. The event turned into a rallying point for war, time to change how we live our lives, time to alter what we think is fair, and what liberty is. These are all good discussions to have, but it doesn't have anything to do with our emotional response. One of the goals in the monologue is to talk about that day and . . . hold myself to account for how I reacted [to] give me a landscape to talk about how our country talked about it.
Lots of people came up afterward to continue the conversation. I feel like I'm engendering actual conversations outside the boundaries of the theater. Here's a door that opens for them. You can walk through the door and talk about that day. And that's valid, even if it sounds slightly hokey.
Q You've been compared to Spalding Gray. Did he inspire you?
A Not particularly. I think the balance of the form, combining autobiographical material and biographical material, is very centered around the audience. You constantly have to self-examine and reassess. Why am I making these choices? Does this further the ends of the show, or my own ends? If it furthers your own ends and not that communion, that's corrosive. I think that happened to Spalding Gray. He had many demons, but he kept gazing inward. The life he had onstage was his inner life. He spent a lot of years constantly only looking inward. It can do things to you. People always say that performing onstage is a transformative experience, but that doesn't mean it's always positive. He designed the box and then got into it and closed the door. I think it's a cautionary tale.
Q You seem to be on the cusp of big-time success. Do you feel the draw of Hollywood?
A It's difficult to say. I've worked with HBO and other people on projects, but fundamentally I'm interested in the elements of live performance that don't work in other mediums. I'm interested in the liveness of a person telling a true story in artful way. At the same time, I'm aware that it's very difficult to do what you do without doing time on "Who's the Boss." I'd like to focus on the stage work, as long as we can keep it compelling. 