Matt Hinton has a lot to shout about. After completing his MFA last year, his thesis project, a play titled Quiet Cowboy, hits the stage at Lackawanna College’s Mellow Theater in Scranton next week. A script that began almost three years ago is coming to fruition with the help of the Gaslight Theatre Company. I spoke with Matt to find out exactly how it feels to see your work come to life. And if our interview is any indication of this playwright’s energy, audiences will be anything but quiet.
Me: Tell us a little bit about Quiet Cowboy… Where the inspiration came from, why a western? Would you define it as a western drama?
Matt: Quiet Cowboy is the story of Wally and his family life. After the death of his father and the sudden absence of his older brother, Wally takes to the American hero-figure of the cowboy for prairie-grown advice on life, it’s struggles, and how to handle himself under fire.
The inspiration for this play came from my own childhood obsession with cowboy movies and shows. I would often spend hours a day locked in my room, the television blaring away with a thousand gunshots. My parents didn’t really know about this. They weren’t neglectful, but I was (and am) more an introvert than I let on. I had secrets. Instead of posters with cowboys, what they more likely saw papering my walls were maps of Arizona, Nevada, and the like (desert maps, really), printouts of conspiracy theories, aliens, the Bermuda Triangle, and the occult. I was a weird kid.
Western Drama? Maybe. I’m not that hip on titles, but that’s appropriate enough. I’ve always been partial to the term “Cowboy Play” because there are so few of them that are well known, even amongst the theatre brood; and besides, it’s fun to say.
Me: How long have you been working in this play? how many variations of the play did you have to create before you felt it was ready for the stage?
Matt: The earliest version of Quiet Cowboy came about sometime in 2008. I was in the MA portion of the Wilkes University Creative Writing Program at the time, and had a few decent ideas for my project, but nothing that really burned in my chest with the heat of a thousand suns. So, I started doing some writing exercises (it’s never too late to return to exercise prompts – if anything else, to limber up, to test oneself, to take ridiculous chances). One of the prompts demanded that I write a compelling opening – one of my favorite challenges – and I came up with this man chain-smoking in his underwear in the wee small hours of the morning, the flash and bang of a cowboy movie dancing on his face, the walls, etc. I could hear the gunshots, I could smell the cigarettes, the gunpowder. Soon enough, my simple opening had grown to 15 or so pages, and I showed it around to Juanita Rockwell and Jean Klein, both instructors in Wilkes Creative Writing Program, as well as a few others. Then, I took copious notes: questions from myself and others, thoughts, experiments. Before long, the television was a full-blown character and I had a memory play on my hands.
There were countless revisions, of course. Before completing the program, I’d say the entire work went through anywhere from 8-10 full drafts. Then, while attending a workshop at the Norman Mailer Colony in Provincetown, MA, I eliminated an entire character and essentially scrapped Act II. I should digress to mention that by this point David Reynolds was tapped to direct (though really, he volunteered with great enthusiasm), we had already cast the play, organized a few table readings and some light scene work with the actors, and were well into planning the venue (Lackawanna College’s Mellow Theater in Scranton) and holding production meetings to discuss choices in sound design, lights, and so on. So, when I came back from P-town with a complete rewrite of the second act, it kept everyone on their toes. There were still a few minor line changes we came upon in the rehearsal process, but this is natural. In all, I’m extremely happy with the script and what the entire ensemble has made of it, though I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some things I would ’tweak’ if I could. But the production draft is complete, and that’s a good feeling.
Me: How long have you been a playwright? where you an overly dramatic toddler?
Matt: Charles Bukowski once said, ”Nobody one ever realizes they’re a writer. They only think they’re a writer.” Novelist Marlon James and poet Jim Warner talk about needing permission to write; which comes to the budding artist via the revelatory work of another writer, artist, etc. I suppose I think I’ve been a playwright since I got permission from the likes of Sam Shepard, Mac Wellman, Douglas Messerli, David Ives, and the incomparable Juanita Rockwell, whom I often refer to as my “spirit guide”. But really, I’ve been writing for a long time. I used to write terrible stories (poems, too) about space cowboys, commanders, and a little series about a private detective who was constantly drunk, all of which I hid from the world. And then, of course, there were the various skits and stories that I made with the family camcorder. My actors were Lego people, neighborhood kids, friends, the occasional cameos by my parents (unbeknownst to them), and, thanks to some slick camera tricks, voices, and costumes, myself in multiple roles. The results were bizarre and sometimes looked like a seizure of visual non-sequiturs, but they were never boring. Anyway, those were my earliest “scripts”. What truly captured me, though, was a 7th grade encounter with Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet. Clichéd? Maybe. But I felt like I “got it” right away. I understood his poetry and craved it – it became a well that I still draw from.
Was I a dramatic toddler? I don’t remember much about my toddler years. I mostly remember injuries. When we lived in Arizona, I sat on a cactus as my father washed the red Nova in our Tucson driveway – 30+ needles drove right through the diaper and I’m told I didn’t cry as my parents removed them one by one. Chasing a large beach ball, I fell into the pool while the cover was still on – that was also in Arizona. Then, in Springtown, PA, my ring finger managed to mangle itself in the track of an opening garage door (a long story). I’m told the word for all of this is “precocious”. Once I got into the public school system, I think I finally began to get a feeling for audiences. THEN, I became dramatic. I acted out, lied like a salesman (always smiling), got into fights, and made my voice heard in hallways, classrooms, and eventually, the stage. In a way, public school was the beginning of the end for me.
Me: What do you hope people take away from Quiet Cowboy?
Matt: I hope that people take away some semblance of American family life as it might be portrayed through the cowboy genre. I hope they take home various interpretations of the poetry of the prairie and the homestead. Garrison Keillor once told me that “with plays, you give them an evening!” So I guess that’s what I really hope for – that they have a memorable time. But then, bad times are often the most memorable.
Me: What excites you the most about this upcoming production of your work?
Matt: Wow, what a question … the act of collaboration is where the real “art” of theatre takes place. There have been several production meetings, each with decisions to be made about soundscapes, opportunities for tone poems, designs on the set and lights and look and feel of the props (a cowboy needs the ‘right’ revolver, you know), furniture, and location, and posters, and ads. All of these have been guided by David and myself, but it’s really a true ensemble – real teamwork. Then, we have the talent. Each actor brings his/her own thoughts, interpretations, questions, and answers to each role. They have shaped and guided the play more than anything, and in the end, Quiet Cowboy ceases to be work by Matthew S. Hinton and is instead ‘authored’ by the cast, crew, and director, as well. The show itself, live and electric and before an audience, is the final act of collaboration. The audience is the final contributor – laughing, crying, gasping, clapping, or getting up and leaving mid-show … that’s where the real art emerges. Theatre does not take place inside a vacuum. The unknown is exciting to me. No matter the result, I often run headlong into dark rooms. That sounds stupid when I step back and re-read it, but for me the western frontier and outer space are two of the three great mysterious adventures to get wrapped up in. The third is humans. There are probably more.
Me: If Oprah was running this production, what would you like to see her give away to the audience? I’m thinking guns? you get a gun, you get a gun! Everyone gets a gun!
Matt: Haha. Great question! Guns are a good idea. She’d have to include a bandolier, holster, poncho, spurs, chaps, lasso lessons, and possibly a horse (with saddle) for me to be really impressed. Maybe she could launch a cowboy channel named after me too.
Thanks, Matt for answering my questions!
On a personal note, I was lucky enough to catch a dramatic reading from Quiet Cowboy last June at Wilkes University, and not only was I blown away by the intensity of this play, but Matt managed to quiet an entire audience of fellow writers. (Not an easy feat!)
Quiet Cowboy will be at Lackawanna College’s Mellow Theater, beginning Friday, January 7th and running through Sunday, January 9th. There will be a special preview Thursday, January 6th at 7:30 PM.
Tickets start at $8.
For more information, you can visit Matt’s Facebook page or his blog!
The Cast:
WALLY – Sean McKeown
RICKY – David Isgin
MA – Liz Powell
THERESA – Anne Rodella
J.W. – Paul Rodella
COWBOY – Rob Klubeck
FEMALE V.O. – Meghan Fadden
ANNOUNCER V.O. – David Reynolds
Directed by David Reynolds
A Gaslight Theatre Production
The Mellow Theater - Lackawanna College
501 Vine St., Scranton
www.gaslight-theatre.org
