A Conversation with Bronwen Carson
We were lucky to publish Bronwen Carson’s short play “You Can’t Get to Heaven in a Mini-Skirt” on our website in December. Meetinghouse associate editor Jen Capriola recently hashed things out over email with her.
Jen Capriola: “You Can’t Get to Heaven in a Miniskirt” dives into the gendered ongoings of Christian youth groups in the U.S. Is this something you experienced firsthand yourself? In general, what's the background for the piece?
Bronwen Carson: I suppose it would be accurate to say the play is a memoir. Though, some of the situations are a mash up of a number of experiences I had over many years.
I have, from a very early age, been drawn to trying to understand, and expose injustices. The gaslighting of young women through purity hazing and gender shaming in youth groups is a serious, and often disregarded, injustice. I also don’t see it as just a Christian youth groups issue. The vast majority of organized religions the world over have deep veins of gender shaming and oppression intrinsically woven into them. There’s a long history of patriarchal empowerment in most organized religions.
JC: What was it like to prepare a piece that is originally designed to be seen, embodied, acted, and then have it published online for a literary magazine? Were there any structural changes you made for this switch in modality?
BC: It was both enjoyable and challenging. Enjoyable because I always like to play with form and content no matter what I’m creating. Challenging because it’s unusual to have a play published before it’s been workshopped or produced. But I ended up finding a balance by removing most of my detailed, generative notes on the sound and set design, as well as the movement sequences. I focused on the development of the scenes and overall language of the play.
JC: Are there specific playwrights, productions, authors, books, etc., that informed this piece?
BC: My journals, memories, and photos are the source material for “You Can’t Get to Heaven in a Miniskirt,” but I do look at a great deal of installation and visual art whenever I’m creating. The division of space and light unlocks my mind. Music is a huge influence as well. That said, I’ve seen specific works that have left indelible marks. KneeHigh, Basil Twist, Crystal Pite, Lloyd Newson/DV8, Pina Bausch—wild mind art that integrates somatic expression as a complete language. I will say The Nether by Jennifer Haley, directed by Anne Kauffman, produced at MCC, opened my eyes to how compelling the use of space, lighting, movement, and text can be in building a world to illuminate difficult topics.
JC: Can you speak some more about your future plans for this piece?
BC: A full production by 2023.
Right now I’m editing and building out the act originally published in Meetinghouse and beginning to create a second act. I’d love to have it present off-Broadway, then tour, specifically inviting youth group leaders to attend. I have no interest in alienating the church. I want to open a conversation with youth group leaders about what they might not understand is a deeply destructive choice of language and action towards the young female members.
JC: Moving on to some general questions about your writing: What does your creative process look like?
BC: Structured wildness is probably the best way to describe it. I’ve learned to keep a set schedule each day, usually between four and five hours, five to six days a week. Always before 2pm. When I keep structure in place, my mind has time to noodle with ideas and chimney sweep. Some days it’s five hours of crappy ideas and crappy writing. But I’ve learned those days are critical. I have to slog through my many swamps of mediocrity to get to the ideas or words I need.
When I finally do arrive at the workshop phase of a new work, I rotate between movement, text, sound design, and arranging space. It all depends on the project and what it’s telling me it wants as its foundation.
JC: What are your favorite, and least favorite, things to write about?
BC: Almost everything is fascinating to me but I’m least interested in stories along the lines of those Fast and Furious movies. I think we don’t need anymore glorifications of toxic masculinity, violence, and cars that get two miles to the gallon.
I enjoy writing about the things children see and understand, that we often forget as we grow up. I also am interested in complex friendships, and relationships with the natural world.
JC: And what are your favorite, and least favorite, parts of the writing process?
BC: Least favorite is what I’d mentioned before about slogging through swamps of mediocrity—necessary, but it’s never fun to write a bunch of crud that feels like literary muzak in a purgatorial waiting room.
Favorite moments for me are the same as most generative directors and writers. The moment the idea comes or the solution arrives unexpectedly. The crystallization of a visual metaphor or those few words you’ve written that capture how a moment truly feels.
JC: As a physical theatre director, how has the pandemic changed (or halted) the way you approach creating and sharing your work with others?
BC: I believe impediments are avenues out of entrenched perspectives and patterns. COVID-19 felt like an invitation to examine proximity bridges, what space between people can mean, and opened more realms of possibility in form and content exploration.
I think COVID ripped the band-aid off a lot of cognitive dissonance, and the widespread addiction to distraction and disposable relationships. As an artist I want to excavate the strata beneath the constant motion of modern life COVID-19 revealed. Explore ways of conveying space and relationship, and cause and effect—outside of use of physical proximity. It’s made me want to further investigate the incredible beauty of solitary moments.
JC: What shows, productions, music, books, etc., are you interested in right now?
BC: Anything and everything coming out of The National Theatre of Scotland and Nederlands Dans Theater. I’ve also been watching a lot of European and British slow burn psychological series. The slower plot development along with the layered, gritty-poetic aesthetic appeals to me.
Music-wise, I’m all over the place but lately playing a lot of classic music and 70’s singer songwriters. And Nina Simone. I’m currently reading Hyperbole and a Half, Pattern Recognition, Atmospheric Disturbances, and The Dutch House. I usually have three or four books on rotation. I like to read about quantum mechanics and M-theory to relax because it’s so outside my domain and something about the language of science is soothing to me.
JC: You mentioned before a few other projects you’re currently working on that seem fascinating. Can you speak a little more on your upcoming projects and how readers can plug into them?
BC: Thanks, yes, it’s been an oddly progressive and productive year for me. My debut novel, Magpie, is now complete and my agent is putting the proposal together for publishing houses. That was a meaningful milestone for me. And in March I received a scholarship from Sundance Institute to participate in Co//ab for a year to help develop a screenplay and a series I’m working on. I’m collaborating with LaWanda Hopkins, who was most recently seen in The Public Theatre’s Much Ado About Nothing on the screenplay, and with my mum, Isobel Carson, on the series.
My most recent physical theatre play, ACCORD(ing), co-created with my dear friend Vieve Radha Price, had a sold-out run in Raleigh in June of last year and has been invited to present a production in Milan. I’m also developing another physical theatre play about make-take-waste and another novel. I’m definitely one of those ‘if I’m not creating I’m a menace to society' types. I’ll be posting regular updates on all of these projects as they develop on my website as well as posting some short stories.
JC: Before we wrap up, is there anything else you'd like to share?
BC: Just a sincere thank you to Meetinghouse for being interested in writing that takes bold approaches to form and content, and Avery Saklad for reaching out to me.
Bronwen Carson is a physical theatre director and writer. She’s recently completed her first novel, and her next immersive physical theatre play, Sleep, Perchance to Dream, premieres in 2021. www.bronwencarson.com
Jen Capriola is an associate editor of Meetinghouse.