Meet Suzanne Bachner | Playwright & Director

We had the good fortune of connecting with Suzanne Bachner and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Suzanne, we’d love to hear about how you approach risk and risk-taking

I’ve never regretted taking a risk, just playing it safe. The namesake of my theatre company, JMTC Theatre, and my first father-in-law, John Montgomery Hillan used to say: “You only regret the things you haven’t done”. That’s definitely true for me when it comes to taking risks. Risk taking is also absolutely infectious in the best way. Taking risks creates a ripple effect. Risks beget risks until that’s just your creative / artistic / life normal. Once you go down the risk path, playing it safe isn’t as available and that’s definitely a good thing. If you feel confident on that path you can more easily attract collaborators to help you with the risky project and it doesn’t feel as scary or overwhelming. And if you’re really in the risk zone, you can infuse your collaborators with the excitement, joy and confidence to jump right in with you and see the risky project as a viable, inevitable one that must be realized and needs their time and talent. That’s when your risk ripple takes on a life of its own.

I believe my risk ripple began after I had started drama school as a playwright in the first graduating class at the then brand new program at the Actors Studio Drama School at the New School University (well-calculated risk) and my partner, the late great Patrick Hillan and I decided to create a brand new theatre space in Chelsea, NYC (full-on crazy!). The idea was that if we created a space in the middle of New York City out of nothing, we could create and produce any theatre that we wanted—and even some that didn’t even know we wanted. And that’s exactly what happened. The adage “built it and they will come” was spot on in this case. In the beginning, we produced both classics and original work and almost instantaneously we had a community of both incredible theatre artists and avid audience members who enjoyed coming to our space because we switched the configuration of the theatre with every production; it was part of the set design.

The second ripple was that as a playwright, I was inspired by the space and the community of artists and I wanted to take an artistic leap and create a play from scratch by working with an ensemble of actors and a set & lighting designer. I cast “The Collective” as I called it and worked without a net. In making this play, which became Icons & Outcasts, I developed a process of working that I still used today and have been commissioned to create film and theatre projects using this method. It’s a leap of faith for the producers to engage in this, but it doesn’t feel as risky to me today; if I follow the process and work closely with my collaborators, I always get to the finish line. Icons & Outcasts also marked my directorial debut; the director we had lined up had a conflict and my partners informed me that I was going to direct it. You have been all along, they told me. I was terrified, but realized they were right. It was trial by fire but led to my first big success and was a NYC cult hit that transferred to The Duplex for a six month run. Not bad for what started as a completely experimental workshop with a two-week run at our theatre.

Ripple three: The idea of this theatre space inspiring limitless possibilities and inspiring taking a leap with work translated to a more fluid situation when we gave up the space and moved to LA and became bicoastal. Then the space was metaphorical and could exist anywhere. We could take our work to any stage with the same attitude and motivation, we didn’t actually need a physical space to do that. We premiered my play CIRCLE, which takes place in NYC and LA with a bicoastal cast, first in NYC then in LA. None of us had any idea how it was going to land. It moved to Off Broadway for a five month run and played across the country.

Ripple four: we had developed a number of award-winning autobiographical solo shows in NYC and then took the leap to tour them across the U.S. and Canada to great critical acclaim, thus expanding our theatre’s community to international audiences who looked forward to what we were going to bring each summer in the same way our original NYC audiences did when we first had the Chelsea theatre space years before. And we changed it up: sometimes dramatic totally true solo shows, sometimes sexy multiple-actor comedies.

Ripple five: we started partnering with some wonderful non-profit organizations like Safe Horizon and You Gotta Believe with our theatrical work and focused on combining art and advocacy to raise funds and awareness, bring healing, resources and dynamic talk backs to communities and even to help effect legislative change. I direct my amazing partner in life and art, Bob Brader, in his multi-award-winning solo shows including Spitting In The Face Of The Devil and Smoker and he is the dramaturg for my work including my solo show, that I wrote and direct, The Good Adoptee. Through an alchemy of drama and comedy, the work we do tackles child abuse, sexual abuse, addiction, adoption trauma, adoptee rights as well as sex positivity and intimacy issues. We have toured The Good Adoptee throughout Connecticut (working with Access Connecticut) and New York (partnering with AFFCNY and Adoptees United) in support of legislative change that thankfully, after decades of activist struggle, has finally come to fruition.

Ripple six: during the pandemic we brought our theatrical work to a virtual platform through Zoom and StreamYard presentations, working with a number of different presenters and producers. We had taken another leap right before the pandemic started, finding a wonderful collaborator and incredible theatre artist, Chris Kateff, who is now our Resident Projection Designer. We then worked together to adapt his design to the virtual space and run shows with Chris’s design without using a green screen so our actors show up fully and never blend into the background. This involved me running the projections, and doing tech terrifies me. But it was actually fun and exciting.

Ripple seven: We are working on my new play, Conversations with My Divorce Attorney. We are doing something different with it, working in a new space, creating a Virtual Reading of it starring Bob Brader and Kat Nardizzi, narrated by Ellen Ritter with video design by Chris Kateff. I’ve never gotten a play out this way; it’s something brand new, like the play itself. I am terrified. No, I am excited! I don’t know how it will go, or where we will go or exactly how it will reach the people I want it to reach. But I know I have something to say and that I want to share it. It doesn’t feel like a risk, it feels like the way we do things. It all started with the space of limitless possibilities and that space still exists and has never let me down—or off the hook.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.

Since I was very little, I wrote and made visual art. It always started with the writing. Before I could actually write, my parents used to write my stories down for me and I would illustrate them. Aside from the generous assist from my amazing parents, it was all solo work. I was an only child and used to spend tons of time in my room writing. When I discovered that theatre was a collaborative process and I could work with other people to tell stories and combine my visual artistic sensibility, I was hooked. With playwriting, I found a balance between the solo work in solitude and the joyfulness of collaborating with others to tell a story. It’s how my work really took off. All of a sudden it was in a framework of deadlines, responsibility, of working together and of elevating the work to another level and another place that I may not have originally conceived, but then felt was even closer to how I wanted to tell the story.

I love actors and I love casting them and writing specifically for them. I even adore strong-willed actors (and seem to attract them) because they make me stand my ground and articulate the story in an even stronger way. I love designers too and seeing what they bring to a production and how they often give me insight into my own work through their interpretation in the same way that actors have. I moved forward by not just writing plays, but creating a community and a theatre company. When it’s working, you all push each other to create your best work, to take risks, to be vulnerable and go to places you didn’t expect and you support each other doing it. When all the players in a production are in sync, there’s nothing like it. There are no limits.

The audience also responds to that in a deep way. They get unified in the theatre early on in the production and then you know that you have them and they are with you and will go with the show to the more difficult parts. It’s tough to learn how to do that, but I think in the production it’s about creating a visceral experience for the audience where they can’t be in their heads, you transport them to some other place where they’re in auto-response laughing, crying, gasping, whatever. Where they’re on a roller coaster through the show. Where they can’t intellectualize the experience until they’re outside the theatre. Even better, waiting till the next day when they wake up. But in order to make something that does that, you have to go through a similar process when writing the play and make sure you get out of your own way and tap into your subconscious, creative self when you’re writing, to let the play and sometimes the characters tell you what happens.

For me, the hardest thing is to keep going when it gets scary and out of control. But of course that is the most rewarding. The play will come through, knock itself into existence in spite of internal or external obstacles as long as you keep showing up for it. It helps to have a trusted, safe, inspiring, ridiculously talented creative team in development, including an ace dramaturg. I work with my partner, Bob Brader, who is also a wonderful actor and writer himself. He is incredibly selective with his feedback and always spot on, sometimes to my immense frustration. He’s never pushy, so his suggestions, if taken feel very much like my choice, because they are. One of the best pieces of advice on a play-in-progress is just to keep going, keep writing. Once a play is there, if you honor it, and follow what it calls for, you can’t and won’t go wrong.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.

Day 1 We start at Hugo’s* in the Valley for a delicious and leisurely brunch that includes splitting a Pasta Mama. Then we drive to Venice Beach (so you can see for yourself that I wasn’t exaggerating about the traffic) and hang out on the Boardwalk, go to the Santa Monica pier, see the Carousel, then head to Shutters on the Beach which is beautiful. We hang out in the lounge all night and meet interesting strangers and order our dinner from the restaurant but stay causal in the lounge. You complain about how expensive valet parking is.

Day 2
We go to Bob’s Big Boy for breakfast, see Warner Brothers Studios (you love the cartoon characters), then head to Universal Studios for a day of fun. We are extremely amused. You say the one in Orlando is better and I tell you you’re wrong and make sure you get splashed on the Jurassic World ride. We catch a movie on the City Walk, eat tons of popcorn, forget to have dinner and end of grabbing a late bite at Fatburger*.

Day 3
We sleep in and go to the legendary Henry’s Tacos in Studio City which has been around since the 60s and used to be a taco stand but is now a walk up window but just as good. They use fresh tomatoes in thick slices in the shells, spices that are a secret recipe but surely have an addictive property. You pretend to be as in love with Henry’s Tacos as I am, but I see through it. They are still really good, you admit. We go to the Getty Museum which is, as always, spectacular. We drop by the restaurant to see if we still know people who used to work there when Patrick managed it. We are too full from Henry’s to eat another bite even though we are being offered a meal that will surely be comped. Poorly planned on my part. We drive down the Sunset Strip at Sunset, because, and continue our Old School Day by hanging out with aging metal band guitarists at Rainbow, which does have delicious pizza and salad and quaintly cramped booths. We head to Whisky a Go Go to catch the second show of the evening. My friend’s cousin’s roommate’s ex’s band is playing, they’re not a cover band, and they’re pretty damn good.

Day 4
We drive through Beverly Hills and see the Police Department because Beverly Hills Cop, and drive up to the majestic Beverly Hills Hotel. You can’t believe I keep valeting the car. I say, you’re on vacation, relax. We go to the Polo Lounge and have breakfast outside and it is lovely. I stick you with the bill since I’m covering the valet. We go the the Westfield Mall* which I call the Beverly Hills Mall* even though it is in Century City because it is like they shoved Rodeo Drive into an open air mall. We do not go to the actual Rodeo Drive, just drive past it. I point out these twin towers which is where my divorce attorney’s office* were (are?) located. We drive over Coldwater Canyon and through Mulholland Drive, because Lynch and then we end up on Laurel Canyon at Pace, a cozy restaurant off the canyon that has amazing wine which we drink too much of, my poor planning again. We leave our car and take a Lyft to the Fox and the Hounds*, Irish bar because we already drank too much and we’re sure to run into someone you want to see but don’t want to make a special date with.

Day 5
I draw the line and tell you that I’m way behind on work and that your visit is distracting and I send you off to Magic Mountain for the day because that’ll keep you busy and it does. We meet up for dinner at El Compadre restaurant and have pitchers and pitchers of Sangria — we meet other friends and share a big round booth — and you tell me you prefer it to Henry’s and I say you can’t compare but they do have incredible salsa and isn’t that Guy Pierce in the corner? Don’t turn around. I said, don’t turn around!

Day 6
I check you in to the Chamberlain Hotel, this cute boutique hotel in WeHo*, nested in the hills off of Sunset. I tell you I just can’t get any work done during your visit, but instead of leaving to work, I end up spending the day on the roof top pool with you. We go to the Leammle NoHo* 7 to see an amazing indie movie, then head to Sherman Oaks to go to the legendary Whitefire Theatre to catch their solo fest, which is the largest one on the west coast and always has quality work. Feeling fully inspired, I feel confident that I can return to work the next day.

Day 7
We go back to Hugo’s* for breakfast, because repeat visits make you feel like you know a place. I send you off to Malibu to go the beach and arm you with some valet money just in case. I go to the Coffee Fix and get more work done in an afternoon than I have in a month. Your LA visit, though incredibly distracting for the past 6 days, may have just spurred on the breakthrough I needed. We go to Midori Sushi for an epic last meal to celebrate and toast with saki.

*All of these locations appear in my new play, Conversations with My Divorce Attorney

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
I must shoutout at trio of magical mentors at The TAI Group: Gifford Booth, Twila Thompson and Allen Schoer. Before becoming the transformative global force that is The TAI Group, TAI was originally The Actors Institute. I was lucky enough to take a series of their life-changing workshops which empowered me to pursue theatre, to tell my story and to be my best, most authentic self. I took my first workshops with Twila, who has a gift of seeing you right to your core and inviting you to do the same with not only yourself but others. She taught me that your greatest vulnerabilities are also your greatest strengths. Gifford became my artistic mentor and taught me how to get out of my own way, how to chase a dream and make it a reality and how to ride obstacles when they come up like they’re a bucking bronco and you’re the best cowgirl whoever lived. I never studied with Allen directly, but so many people close to me did, and I feel directly touched by his superb work with actors. Allen taught me that “it’s not a serious, it’s a play” and what true commitment, dedication and relationship look like and that they take time. I served as Playwright-in-Residence at TAI for its two-year Actor Training Program and wrote all their showcases. TAI has always had such a vibrant community. Not only did I meet Patrick at TAI, but it is also where met my dear friend, Man of Honour and forever collaborator, Francis O’Flynn. The TAI Group continues doing impactful, pioneering work worldwide. I am forever grateful for how they have and continue to impact me. TheTAIGroup.com

Website: http://www.jmtcinc.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/suzannejouvay/

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/suzanne-bachner-0b1a967/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SuzanneBachner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/suzanne.bachner

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8X3QUXyaF75sR8lbA3Vr-A

Other: https://thegoodadoptee.com http://www.circletheplay.com http://www.conversationswithmydivorceattorney.com

Image Credits
First Image of me at typewriter • Photo by Bob Brader Icons & Outcasts • Photo by Scott Wynn CIRCLE • Graphic Design by Michael Koch 3 from JMTC • Graphic Design by Michael Koch The Good Adoptee at the SJCC in Seattle • Projection Design by Chris Kateff Look Ma, No Mask • Suzanne & Bob Post Vax • Photo by Michael Koch