Announcing CHANNELS

Almost 20 years ago, while writing my undergraduate history thesis, I discovered details around British appeasement of the Nazis that nobody had ever written about, and that nobody's written about since. I'm turning this original research into a solo show, and I'd like your help to make it happen. 

Channels is a microhistory nightmare theater piece about how an awkward, introverted aristocrat--after receiving a mysterious invitation to a hunting conference in Berlin--came to be the British diplomat in charge of negotiations with Hitler. Channels has morphed into a dance-theater sketch-comedy ghost story, and fellow Juilliard grad Daphne Fernberger (LA Dance Project) is now the co-director. (If you're in New York, see Daphne in Romeo & Juliet Suite, choreographed by Benjamin Millepied, at the Park Avenue Armory.) 

Channels was born a little more than a year ago at the end of my run at the Groundlings Sunday Company, when I started writing the script with the intent of taking it to the Edinburgh Fringe. I dipped back into the archives, started getting help with the dialects, began movement research, started designing ghost effects and typographic installation art elements of the set, and workshopped bits of the script and performance with some fantastic guides. But just as it was picking up steam, my town burned down, and navigating insurance, displacement, and shock shelved my plans. It took nine months for the administrative burden of the Eaton Fire to (mostly) dissipate, but when it did, I recommitted myself to making the show. 

Being in an especially nomadic mode since the fire, and having a good number of airline miles, I decided to perform an act of faith. I went on a dramaturgical research trip! I stepped into the world of the piece in London, in the Yorkshire wolds, in Berlin, and in retracing the main character's 1937 train ride to Hitler's house in the Bavarian mountains—the fateful event that makes up the show's structure. The trip turned into the wildest adventure of my life: I met aristocrats, historians, and mediums along the way, and finagled my way into a private castle, a gentlemen's hunt, a forbidden archive, and a fruit conference. (Read more in the Field Reports, available upon your tax-deductible gift to Channels.)

I've been back in LA this month, and we just found out Channels has been given an amazing opportunity: seven full days of rehearsal space at an amazing venue. The gift has significantly increased the speed and scope of the show, and now we're barreling ahead, full throttle. (But in addition to raising funds for the production, we're also looking for two vacant guest rooms in NYC for a week starting March 25, and for a venue for a showing on the 31st.)

Please consider helping us keep this momentum going by supporting Channels through a tax-deductible donation as an individual or through a DAR. This is made possible by our fiscal sponsor, Satellite Collective (a 501(c)(3) arts non-profit. We're also looking for funding producers and are able to support hybrid investment models. 

Every little bit helps as we commit to creating this piece of independent theater.  After workshopping the piece in New York, we hope to resume work in L.A., and then putting together a tinkering team for a production/technical workshop in Juneau this summer, all aiming towards a self-produced run of the show somewhere awesome in the fall. 

I cannot wait to share it with you.

Sincerely yours,
Scout

P.S. — any donation amount unlocks Scout's Field Reports. Today's post:

Vampire Cats & Daddy Issues at a Grade II*–Listed Mansion Just Outside Doncaster 

After the shock of the fire settled, as I thought "Oh, maybe I'll dust off this solo show," it occurred to me to look up Hickleton Hall. 

Hickleton Hall is the childhood home of Lord Halifax, the show's main subject (let's call him Edward). It's an ominous, 18th-century, 34,000 square foot, Grade II* listed mansion surrounded by acres and acres of Yorkshire woods and wolds. It's the backdrop to the mix of religiosity and horror that made up Edward's childhood, and it's where most of his elder siblings were buried by the time he was ten. You can still visit their little graves at the chapel on the property.

Other than the endless funerals for children, Eddie's father (also Lord Halifax, but let's call him Chuck) was the primary source of terror at Hickleton. Chuck was a pious man who served as president of the English Church Union for more than 50 years and whose "whole life was based upon devotion to the Catholic Church." He also was obsessed with occultism, built secret passages around Hickleton, drilled little holes into the eyes of paintings, and took great pleasure in scaring the shit out of his children. Once, Chuck…

P.P.S—No AI was used to write any of the communications associated with Channels.