1. sports
2. tennis

CANTILEVER
Frank Lloyd Wright’s place in history has been secured. His significance,
however, was built upon the backs of a workforce which was part internship, part
indentured servitude. Originally conceived by Wright and his third wife, Olgivanna, the
idea of a “fellowship” found its footing on their Wisconsin estate, Taliesin, near Spring
Green, Wisconsin. This apprenticeship program began as a tuition-based school, and
ultimately sustained the Wrights through the Depression and World War II, when
commissions were thin on the ground. Would-be architects built and maintained the
Taliesin property, in addition to their production of countless residential designs for
Prairie style homes all over the country after the war.
Eventually, a strategy was developed for a large winter home/studio/school
outside of Scottsdale, Arizona, to be called Taliesin West. This site would be the
culmination of Wright’s ideas about art, life, and self-sustenance. Taliesin West would
house the dreamers, and there they would be steeped in Wright’s curriculum of drawing,
dance, theatre, and sweat. Young draftsmen and designers flocked from around the world
to study at the feet of the master, and found themselves serving food and pouring
concrete into textile-block molds in the Arizona sun. Some quickly perceived the scheme
as manipulation, but many stayed for decades.
Cantilever revolves around the lives of those who took up residence with Wright
and his family, witnessing triumphs and catastrophic events through their eyes. The script
explores thematic elements of work, loss, interdependence, and loyalty. The show itself
never actually features Wright or his wife; theirs is a powerful, yet invisible, presence.
CAST (In order of appearance)
Michael Brakestone (YOUNG MAN/MICHAEL)
Grafton Shoenfeld (GRAF)
an apprentice
Allen L. “Davy” Davison (DAVY)
an apprentice
Sam Falkirk (SAM)
an apprentice
William Wesley Peters (WES)
one of the original Taliesin apprentices, Frank
Lloyd Wright’s son-in-law, married to Svetlana
Svetlana Hinzenberg Peters (SVET)
Olgivanna Wright’s daughter (Frank Lloyd
Wright’s adopted daughter), married to Wes
John H. Howe (JACK)
one of the original Taliesin apprentices, Frank
Lloyd Wright’s lead draftsman
Kay Schneider Davison (KAY)
an apprentice
Eugene Masselink (GENE)
secretary to Taliesin and Frank Lloyd Wright
Iovanna Wright (IO)
Frank Lloyd Wright’s youngest daughter
TIME
Act I: the late 1930s – early 1940s
Act II: the mid-1940s, post war
SETTING
Site of the future Taliesin West, outside Scottsdale, Arizona
Note: The musical selections are suggestions toward the mood and tempo/rhythm of a scene, and
not meant to subvert the efforts of a sound designer. However, classical music should play a
role.
Character notes:
Michael – early 20s – thoughtful, curious. The craftsman in him gathers information through textures.
Once he trusts a person, or an environment, his body relaxes in a tangible way.
Graf – late 20s – strong-willed and whip smart. The leader who enlists Graf as a soldier has a large
responsibility; he has a finely tuned sense of justice and a nose for hypocrisy. Once he is convinced,
however, his loyalty is absolute. A friend in conversation with him will be struck by the immediacy of his
expression, as he fully inhabits every moment. He lives his philosophy of equality, which frequently
manifests itself as a breach of status.
Davy – mid-20s – goes along to get along. Sees the flaws in a plan, but would never say so, even after
things go awry. Socially, he is the perfect party-guest: he’ll always bring more beer than he drinks, and
will stay after to help clean up.
Sam – early 20s – an alarmingly well-read young rebel. Good-looking. Instinctual and golden.
Wes – mid-20s – a man whose size is matched only by his ability. Virtually incapable of deception or
beating about the bush. The first person you’d want on your side, and the last person you’d want against
you. Eminently practical. “When he works, he works like the devil – and when he relaxes – relaxes
completely and utterly”.
Svet – early 20s – loving and lovely, with an other-worldly air about her, perhaps because she straddles
two spheres. She is the commoners’ favorite princess, and although her default manner is elegance, her
warmth is all-encompassing. If someone momentarily breaches the (nearly imperceptible) line, a loyal
subject will bring the offender up short to save Svet the embarrassment of doing so herself.
Jack – mid-20s – diminutive and focused. He doesn’t allow precious energy to leak through the cracks.
He is quietly proud of that which he knows he does well, and so rarely positions himself for failure by
entering into the realm of the unknown. Though there is levity living somewhere inside him, he doesn’t
like to be mocked. This makes his dead-pan delivery a dangerous game which the uninitiated are loathe to
play.
Kay – early 20s – petite marionnettiste-in-training. She observes each individual’s comings and goings,
and subtly maneuvers them toward choices which are (in her eyes), best for the group. Kay uses her voice
to rebuke, to wheedle, and to woo; you will nearly always hear her before you see her.
Gene – late 20s – tall, angular, precise in nature, with wire-framed glasses. As a visual artist, first and
foremost, he seeks with his eyes. This artistic absorption has a tendency to affect his timing; he stares a
moment longer than most people. While he is drawn to the faces of others, when emotions become too
complex to accurately assess, his eyes are the first to flee. Since his “efficiency” smile is almost always
present, the only way to ascertain genuine pleasure is when the smile reaches his eyes.
Io – late teens – undeniably pretty. She is at turns, playful, petulant, naïve, and fierce. The quickest path
between two points being a straight line, few of her encounters begin without agenda. If she achieves
subtlety, it has been stumbled upon. She treats her budding sexuality somewhat like a child who has come
across a dangerous weapon by accident. She can be fun to be around since she has no pretense of
propriety.
Act One, scene 1
Preshow – No Moon At All – Black Gardenia. Music into show: Smoke Rings
Late afternoon. At rise we see the space, Sun Trap, a canvas tent with an inherent structure. A
YOUNG MAN wanders in leisurely from the area where the bedrooms are located, with a bowl
of beans and a banana, and sits to eat and enjoy the quietude. This goes on for at least a minute.
Then, an explosion of sound –
GRAF:
(from offstage) Waaaa-haaaa! Davison!
DAVY:
(off) What the hell...?
GRAF:
(off) Yes!
DAVY:
(off) Could you believe that?!
SAM:
(off) What was that?!
DAVY:
(off) It was huge –
SAM:
(off) You are one crazy son-of-a-bitch!
GRAF:
(off) Me?
SAM:
(off) You, man. I’ve never seen anything like that! That was wild, man.
GRAF:
(off) Yeah, well, you have to see your way through your obstacles ALL laugh. During this exchange, the YOUNG MAN in the tent has gone through several
stages of response to the eruption of activity outside: frozen shock, contained panic,
frenzy of attempted tidying, and now, flight. He exits into the bedroom portion of the tent
from which he earlier emerged.
SAM:
(off) We gonna bring all of this inside?
GRAF:
(off) Just food and necessities. The rest can live outside.
DAVY:
(off) Drop it there, Sam.
DAVY rolls back the upstage door.
GRAF:
(entering) There is no way the cars are going to get through that.
1
DAVY:
(entering) The cars aren’t hauling anything.
SAM:
(entering) I’ve never seen a gully that big. It’d be great to hit that on the
motorcycle.
GRAF:
You’d be on your ass, Sam.
DAVY:
You’d be on your head, Sam.
GRAF:
How’d you get through? Your truck has twice the load ours did.
DAVY:
Peters.
GRAF:
By himself?!
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
Are you shitting me?
SAM:
What? “Peters”, what?
GRAF:
No!
DAVY:
He absolutely did.
SAM:
What?!
DAVY:
Peters got out and pushed us.
SAM:
Through that gigantic gully?
DAVY:
You bet your life.
SAM:
He’s a titan.
DAVY:
Mr. Wright is not going to be happy when he sees that wash. That road was near
perfect when we left.
SAM:
What did it?
DAVY:
The rains. Huge thunderheads sweep through here in the late summer and the
rains create a torrent. Depending on where the winds have pushed things and
where the mesquite has grown, the flash floods build themselves a new riverbed
almost every time.
2
GRAF:
Big, gorgeous clouds roll in like fat ladies on their backs, three o’clock every day
in August. You can almost set your watch by it. But that wash happened since I
left.
DAVY:
That’s right, you were here.
SAM:
You’re here in August? Man, that must be brutal. He makes you do that?
GRAF:
Only the last couple of years. It was just to have someone on site a month or two
in the summer months - do repairs, keep away the squatters. The heat’s not as bad
as you’d think. You do your work in the early morning and late afternoon, the
light doesn’t really give out until around eight. Midday you just knock off and lie
around. You’ll drop some weight because you don’t feel like eating as much, even
if you’re slaving.
DAVY is looking around.
SAM:
Sounds good. Sounds quiet.
DAVY:
Actually, it was supposed to be a sort of punishment the first time. The second
time Graf volunteered in order to get away. She realized then it wasn’t what she
intended.
SAM:
She sent you?
GRAF:
No. He did, but at her command, I’d stake my life.
SAM:
What did you do to deserve that?
DAVY:
Hey, Graf, you seeing this?
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
Yeah. The usual.
SAM:
Like the squatters?
GRAF:
Yeah.
DAVY:
Not usually like this.
GRAF:
The window is rolled open. I hope they all aren’t. I hate cleaning sand out of all
the corners. (Moving toward the rooms, he gives a cursory glance off.)
3
DAVY:
At least the doors were closed.
GRAF:
As long as they didn’t liberate the tools, I don’t care. We’ll have to clean the
whole camp anyway.
SAM:
This is nice. Nicer than I expected. I had it in my head that it was actually just
some sand dugout with a title.
DAVY:
It’s going to be glorious.
SAM:
Sun Trap. It doesn’t sound glorious.
GRAF:
Nah, the main house and the studio will be called -
WES:
(entering with multiple boxes and his bedroll) Taliesin West – it will rise out of
the desert horizon like an ocean liner. Graf, did you have that box of wicks in
your truck?
GRAF:
Yeah. They’re behind the bench seat, passenger side. I’ll get ‘em.
WES:
Thanks. Davy boy’s bedroll is the last thing in ours. I couldn’t carry one more
thing.
SAM:
You’re slipping, Superman.
GRAF:
(exiting) I’ll grab that too.
DAVY:
Thanks.
WES:
Squatters?
DAVY:
Not bad. No damage. Maybe just picnickers?
WES:
You’d have to really want some privacy to trek all the way out here to eat a
boloney sandwich.
DAVY:
Sometimes they’re just curious. Poking around.
SAM:
Some people still need a place to live. Any place.
Both look at him.
DAVY:
That’s true.
4
WES:
(moving toward the rooms) You been back here?
DAVY:
Not yet. Graf gave it a quick glance.
WES:
Last year a group of scorpions had set up housekeeping under Svet’s platform,
and we didn’t know it until three o’clock in the morning. I’ll have to give it a
check. They really seem to like that one.
DAVY:
Coolest corner of the ‘Trap.
WES:
Yep.
YOUNG MAN/MICHAEL enters.
MICHAEL:
Hello...?
DAVY:
Hey!
SAM:
Christ!
MICHAEL:
Hi.
SAM:
What the hell, man?!
DAVY:
Where did you come from?
MICHAEL:
Back there.
Pause.
WES:
You can’t be here.
MICHAEL:
I’m Michael.
WES:
You can’t be here, Michael.
MICHAEL:
I live here now.
SAM:
What the hell?!
WES:
You can’t be here, Michael. You need to move on.
MICHAEL:
But....
5
WES:
I know.
MICHAEL:
But....
SAM:
You heard the man. Get walking. From whence you came, you know?
DAVY:
We’re sorry, but you can’t live here. This is ours. This belongs to Mr. Wright.
You know, Mr. Wright?
MICHAEL:
Yes. Oh, yes.
SAM:
Mr. Peters here is going to move you if you don’t shift yourself. You want that?
MICHAEL:
Mr. Peters?
SAM:
Mr. Wes Peters, of the Clark Kent Peters. So, get your stuff and vamoose.
MICHAEL:
Mr. Peters, I’m Michael.
SAM:
We got that.
WES:
Sam....
MICHAEL:
Mr. Peters, I’m Michael Brakestone. Mr. Wright said for me to come.
DAVY:
Mr. Wright said?
MICHAEL:
Yes. He said to meet you all here.
WES:
He told you to come here?
DAVY:
He didn’t tell me anything about this. He tell you, Wes?
WES:
No.
SAM:
Well that settles it.
MICHAEL:
No, wait, he really did.
SAM:
Mr. Frank Lloyd Wright told you to meet him here?
MICHAEL:
Well, not meet him, so much as meet you, Mr. Peters. He said you’d be here on
the 9th, so I should come.
6
WES:
He said that when you spoke with him?
MICHAEL:
Oh, no. Actually, I’ve never spoken with him. He sent me a telegram. Here, I’ve
got it right here. (Pulling it from his wallet reverently.)
DAVY:
(taking it) It says, “Well then, come along. FLLW”
WES:
“Well then”, what?
MICHAEL:
I’m sorry...?
WES:
“Well then”, what? What was “Well then” in response to?
MICHAEL:
Oh, I had wanted to come for a couple of years, and I applied, but I didn’t have
the tuition. He said I wasn’t ready, couldn’t really be committed to the work. Two
months ago my mother died and left me enough. I wrote Mr. Wright and he
telegraphed me to come along.
DAVY:
It’s from him.
GRAF:
(entering) Wicks rolled out all under the seat. And you won’t believe - Who’s
this?
WES:
New apprentice.
DAVY:
Michael Brakestone. (GRAF throws DAVY his bedroll, DAVY exits toward the
rooms.)
GRAF:
Where’d he come from?
SAM:
Mr. Wright told him to meet us here today.
GRAF:
That right?
WES:
Yep.
GRAF:
I’ve been looking around the camp.
MICHAEL:
I’ve....
GRAF:
You didn’t get here today. (To WES.) He didn’t get here yesterday.
WES:
(pause) How long you been here?
7
MICHAEL:
I....
SAM:
Answer the man.
WES:
Sam....
MICHAEL:
I don’t know, not exactly.
GRAF:
The boards are replaced on the shed.
MICHAEL:
Animals were trying to get in.
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
Last time I was here, animals were chewing through the bottoms of the boards on
the tool shed. I didn’t have any lumber, so I just put up some chicken wire to stall
them a bit.
WES:
You replaced the boards?
GRAF:
He did other things too.
WES:
Like what?
DAVY:
(entering) Well, like redecorating your and Svetlana’s room.
WES:
You’ve been living in my room?
DAVY:
For quite a while, looks like.
WES:
Mr. Brakestone, I’m going to ask you one more time. And please remember that
your future as an apprentice in the Taliesin Fellowship hinges on the truthfulness
of your answer.
SAM:
Mr. Wright doesn’t stand for mendacity.
WES:
How long have you been living on my father-in-law’s building site, and making
unapproved alterations to his architecture?
MICHAEL:
About a month.
GRAF whistles through his teeth.
8
SAM:
Holy shit.
DAVY:
Lord A‘mighty.
GRAF:
Wes?
WES:
Give me a minute. (He walks outside.)
ALL, except MICHAEL, proceed to put things away and arrange the camp.
MICHAEL:
(after a few moments) Should I move my things?
DAVY signals MICHAEL to sit, be quiet, and not move.
GRAF:
Can he even be “Michael”?
DAVY:
I think so. Wes will know.
SAM:
Why not? We don’t have a “Michael”.
GRAF:
But if we ever did, an important one, he’ll have to be called something else.
WES:
(entering) All right. Here’s what we’re doing. Sam, there were two extra tents in
your truck.
SAM:
Yes, sir.
WES:
Give one to Michael and help him find a spot. Mr. Wright expects him to be here
so we can’t send him away. Graf, you’re taking credit for the boards on the tool
shed. Where did they come from?
MICHAEL:
I bought them. The man in town said he wouldn’t add it to the charge...so I paid
cash. Mr. Wright can just reimburse me.
WES:
Consider it your first gift to the Fellowship.
GRAF:
Mr. Wright didn’t approve the boards, I’m not taking the fall this time.
WES:
Then we’ll tell him I did. I made a common-sense field change.
DAVY:
Tell him we found a dead something in there.
GRAF:
Good. He’ll hate even the thought of the smell.
9
WES:
(to MICHAEL) You’ve got cash? And your tuition?
GRAF:
Who’s got tuition?
SAM:
He does. His mom died.
GRAF:
Here, I’ll take that.
WES:
The whole thing? In cash?
MICHAEL:
Yes.
GRAF:
Right here, son.
DAVY:
Don’t.
GRAF:
Are you implying I can’t be trusted?
MICHAEL:
I’d be more comfortable giving it to Mr. Peters.
DAVY:
Don’t give it to anyone except Mr. Wright. And Mrs. Wright should be in the
room.
GRAF:
You’re a killjoy, Davy. We could have had beer.
WES:
Doesn’t matter. We don’t have time to drink, we only have two days’ time to
reverse everything the young lord of the manor here has done to the other
structures.
MICHAEL:
Really?
GRAF:
There isn’t a lot, but making it look untouched will take time.
MICHAEL:
Mr. Peters, please.
WES:
Sorry, kid, them’s the breaks. And it’s Wes.
MICHAEL:
Thanks.
SAM:
Hey, there’s beer right here!
GRAF:
Michael, do we need to have the mendacity conversation again?
10
MICHAEL:
No, I was going to offer, but Mr.…Wes said, “no drinking”. I’ve got more in
my…back there.
GRAF:
Come on, Wes. What’s one night?
SAM:
Come on. One night. Come on. Come on.
GRAF:
Shut up, Sam.
WES:
Nope. Too much to do.
GRAF:
It’s been in the hole. It’s even in the neighborhood of cold.
WES:
(pause) Like hell.
GRAF:
The neighborhood of….
WES:
What do you think, Davy?
DAVY:
Well.
GRAF:
If we sweep dust up onto some of that work, he may even forget what was done
and what wasn’t when we left last year. The kid isn’t too far off the mark.
DAVY:
I’m having nothing to do with that.
WES:
No, we have to take it down, but if we work like the devil we could have it done
by late Thursday. We’re not going to get anything done on that washed-out road,
though.
DAVY:
We don’t have enough man-power to start that anyway.
WES:
Michael, you ever worked like the devil with a hangover?
SAM whoops loudly and GRAF throws WES the first beer.
GRAF:
Welcome to Taliesin, kid. I’m Grafton Shoenfeld. That greedy bastard drinking
your beer is Sam Falkirk.
DAVY:
I’m Davy Davison.
MICHAEL:
Where is everyone else?
GRAF:
Mr. Wright sent a group of us ahead to prep the camp.
11
DAVY:
He and Mrs. Wright will come in a caravan with the others in a couple of days.
MICHAEL:
I’m really sorry if I wrecked anything in your room. Those branches are outside in
the back. Will Mrs. Peters be upset I was staying in there?
WES:
Svet won’t care. We wanted to change some things around anyway. At least with
you there as bait over the last month we know that the scorpion contingent has
moved on.
GRAF:
But don’t tell anyone else.
MICHAEL:
Don’t…?
DAVY:
No, that would be unwise.
MICHAEL:
Okay….
SAM:
Breach of status, my good man.
GRAF:
Definitely.
MICHAEL:
Oh.
WES:
(giving them a look) It isn’t that bad.
SAM:
Says the heir to the throne. The golden boy engineer. The little Dutch son-in-law
with his finger in the dam.
GRAF:
With his finger in the what?
WES:
Knock it off. I’m still in the trenches. And I can still out-sing, out-sweat, and outdrink every one of you.
GRAF:
(throwing WES another beer) Prove it, Peters.
ALL drink.
MICHAEL:
Do you really have to completely deconstruct my work, Mr. Peters?
DAVY:
Michael, you will soon learn one immutable fact –
GRAF:
Nothing is “your work”. Some things are “our work”.
12
WES:
All work is Mr. Wright’s work.
Lights down. Scene change: In A Little Spanish Town.
13
Act One, scene 2
Midafternoon, a few days later. The second wave has arrived. The unloading of the cars and
other trucks is taking place.
SVET:
(leading MICHAEL in) Thank you. Put that back in Wes’ room. Do you know
where that is?
MICHAEL:
Ahh…yes, ma’am. (He exits to the rooms.)
WES:
(entering) There isn’t enough space, Svet. What else did you bring?
SVET:
Nothing else. That’s the last. Have them put the harmonium somewhere else and
it’ll be fine.
WES:
It’s already out and we’re overflowing.
SVET:
(kissing him) We’ll figure it out.
WES:
Tell Jack Howe I’m going to start piling crates in the studio. He can sit on them.
He can stand on them.
SVET:
Wes.
WES:
Jack knows. He jokes about it.
SVET:
I don’t believe that. And if Daddy Frank hears that sort of thing….
WES:
Of course. “The human scale”.
SVET:
They’re not that different. An inch or two apart.
WES:
Mr. Wright knows I’m not talking about him. I consider him ten feet tall.
SVET:
I know. But Jack’s a sweetheart. I’d feel badly if even he overheard it.
JACK:
(entering) Overheard what? Your husband mocking my stature again?
DAVY and GRAF have entered behind JACK.
SVET:
Jack!
JACK:
Oh, Svet. He does it all the time. Do you think I don’t know?
14
WES:
(sweetly naïve) Know what Jack?
JACK:
That you envy me.
WES:
I do. I do!
JACK:
Yes, Mrs. Svetlana Wright Peters. It is time you acknowledged that this freakishly
oversized baboon to whom you have betrothed yourself, desires nothing more
than to restructure, reconfigure, and reimagine himself as an artiste.
WES:
Oh, it’s true!
JACK:
For you see, deep in his soul, he knows that architecture and artistry can only be
properly approached on a human scale.
WES:
He sees all, he knows all….(Kneeling at the feet of JACK.)
JACK:
And only when he bends his knees to the gods, bringing himself to a normal
human level –
WES:
Subhuman.
JACK:
Only then will his vision be clear. Only then will he see his way to becoming
more than a pack mule in harness. Only then will he be…an architect.
SVET:
I see….
WES:
And only then will Jack Howe fulfill his fantasy.
JACK:
What’s that?
WES:
Me, on my knees, in front of him.
Infuriated, JACK leaves. WES and GRAF roar with laughter. DAVY politely tries to hide
his.
SVET:
Wes! That wasn’t nice.
WES:
We do it all the time! It’s a joke. He loves the tit-for-tat.
GRAF:
That’s not what I hear.
WES:
Svet. We do it all the time.
15
DAVY:
You did go a little far on this one, Wes.
SVET:
He seemed genuinely angry.
DAVY:
He did look put-out, Wes.
WES:
I’m telling you, it’s all in fun. He can give as good as he gets.
GRAF:
Now, that is what I hear….
WES and GRAF guffaw. DAVY exits to the rooms.
SVET:
You need to keep that sort of talk under wraps. We’ve got a brand new
apprentice.
WES:
I assure you, Svet, that kid will find out for himself soon enough.
GRAF:
Tonight, if he doesn’t close his tent flap tight enough.
SVET:
Graf, you’re not helping. And really, truly this time, if Daddy Frank hears
that….if Mother hears that.
GRAF:
(sobers) She’s got us there, Wes.
WES:
I see your point.
GRAF:
We can’t do without Jack in the studio.
WES:
No.
SVET:
Please go apologize.
GRAF:
You don’t think he’d snitch?
WES:
Not in a million….
SVET:
Maybe not, but it would be a nice gesture. Start the winter off right. There’s so
much to do.
WES:
I’ll go help him unload. How’s that?
SVET:
Wes….
16
WES:
Svet – I’m not kissing that little pansy’s ass, no matter whose favorite draftsman
he is!
GRAF:
(exiting) That’s my cue.
SVET:
My darling, Daddy Frank loves Jack Howe. We need him. We all need Jack here.
Do you want to be the one who brings Taliesin crashing down?
WES:
Brings…?! I’m the one holding Taliesin up! Me!
SVET:
I know.
WES:
Me!
SVET:
I know.
WES:
And by the way, if you think Jack is the only one of “them” around here, you’re
wrong. The fellowship is crawling with them now. Which is fine, which is just
fine. They aren’t bad men….
SVET:
They are not.
WES:
I just wish….
SVET:
I know.
WES:
You’re a fool if you think your parents don’t know.
SVET:
Maybe.
WES:
Jack Howe with a sharpened pencil crooked in his pinky, or me with my
inheritance! Where is the contest there?
SVET:
And your work. You do beautiful work as well.
WES:
Ahhh, hell, Svet. I’m just a checkbook with a strong back.
SVET:
No. No you are not, Wes Peters. You are my husband. You are the future of
Taliesin.
WES:
I’ll go work alongside him. I’ll go help him unload. But I’m not apologizing. I
can’t.
SVET:
Alright.
17
WES:
Can you see that?
SVET:
Yes….
WES exits to outside. SVETLANA follows him to the door, pauses, then follows him out.
Only then do we notice MICHAEL in the doorway to the rooms.
KAY:
(from offstage) Oh, for christsakes!
GENE:
(off) Did you count them?
KAY and GENE enter from outside, another doorway, down front.
KAY:
Yes, Gene, I counted them.
GENE:
There should have been a gross.
KAY:
Well, there wasn’t.
GENE:
Kay!
KAY:
There were 160, alright?! I was just pulling your leg, for god’s sake.
GENE:
He threw in extra? That’s a first.
KAY:
Well you’ve never sent me before. Perhaps a young firecracker with a pair of soft
shoulders gets further than “a couple of mumbling, sweaty kids who can’t look
anyone in the eye.”
GENE:
Mr. Wright would never allow anyone who behaved that way to go pick up
supplies.
KAY:
I didn’t say it, Mr. Dietz did.
GENE:
Dietz is in Chandler’s back pocket. He can think what he likes, but he shouldn’t
say a word.
KAY:
Any way you want to twist it, the man doesn’t always get paid for what he gives
us. If those boys go down there thinking that they are asking for charity, and
slump and mumble with Dietz—or anyone in town—it’s because they are.
GENE:
Kay –
18
KAY:
I’m not saying a word. All’s I’m saying is, next time, send me. (Moving farther
into the space and spotting MICHAEL.) Well, hello, fresh face.
GENE:
You must be the new one.
MICHAEL:
I’m Michael.
GENE:
Brakestone, yes. Gene Masselink, Mr. Wright’s personal secretary. Kay, Michael
is joining us. Mr. Wright had him meet us here.
KAY:
How wonderful. Is that your car out back?
GENE:
Do you have your tuition?
MICHAEL:
Uhh…(To KAY.) Yes. (To GENE.) Yes.
KAY:
What fun.
GENE:
In cash?
MICHAEL:
Uhh…Yes. Did you want me to get it?
GENE:
Oh, no. Give it directly to Mrs. Wright.
KAY:
Only to Mrs. Wright.
MICHAEL:
Umm…alright.
KAY:
But not now. They’re getting settled.
GENE:
She’ll ask for it.
MICHAEL:
Alright.
KAY:
You found a site?
GENE:
Did you bring your own tent?
MICHAEL:
Umm. Yes, I’ve got a site. I mean…I’m set up. Wes gave me a tent. I didn’t know
I was supposed to bring one.
GENE:
That’s fine for now. Whatever Mr. Peters says.
KAY:
Who else have you met?
19
GENE:
You were supposed to get here on the 9th. You should have met some of the senior
apprentices.
KAY:
And Sam.
GENE:
Oh. I forgot Sam came with that group.
MICHAEL:
Yes. Wes, Graf, Sam. And Davy.
KAY:
This afternoon?
MICHAEL:
A few. I’m trying to remember names. Mrs. Peters.
KAY:
Jack Howe?
MICHAEL:
No. Not officially. I know of him, of course.
GENE:
Pardon me?
MICHAEL:
Mr. Wright’s lead draftsman. Everyone knows Mr. Howe.
KAY:
Right. The first few weeks, you shouldn’t go into the studio unless he or Mr.
Wright is in there.
GENE:
(to KAY) He won’t be in the studio for now. (To MICHAEL.) Don’t worry about
that yet. You’ll be called for if you’re needed in there.
KAY:
And if you are, stop and clean up first. Wipe yourself down, change your shirt,
like that. You haven’t seen Mr. or Mrs. Wright yet?
MICHAEL:
No, ma’am.
GENE:
Would you know her if you saw her?
MICHAEL:
I’d know him.
GENE:
Of course you’d know him!
KAY:
Well they aren’t attached at the hip, darling. She’ll be infuriated if you don’t
recognize her right off.
GENE:
Everybody knows him!
20
KAY:
Look. She’s the most delicate-boned military general you ever saw. Black hair
pulled back in a low bun. A bit of an older, more severe version of Svetlana.
GENE:
You said it, I didn’t.
KAY:
Said what? Don’t ever repeat that to anyone, Michael. Do you hear? I never said
that. You never heard me say anything like that. Got it? (She winks at him.)
MICHAEL:
Repeat what?
KAY:
Good boy.
GENE:
I’ve got to go set up the office. Kay, show him the ropes? (GENE exits through
downstage door.)
KAY:
(grinning broadly) Absolutely.
MICHAEL:
I didn’t know there were female apprentices.
KAY:
(wrapping her arm through his, as they exit) I’m the well-rounded type.
Lights down. Scene change: I Can’t Get Started With You.
21
Act One, scene 3
Early morning. A quiet moment. GENE is sitting at center, putting together the weekly worklist.
As he draws, lights come slowly and softly up on a tabletop gramophone. It plays Bunny
Berigan’s I Can’t Get Started. As he draws, we see the color detailed on the sky screen behind.
The details have already been illustrated, but he is now adding the color in sweeps. Each is
purposely, lovingly applied. SVETLANA appears silently in the doorway leading to the rooms.
She watches GENE for a few moments.
SVET:
(singing)
I’ve got a house, a showplace –
still I can’t get no place with you.
GENE:
(moving to the phonograph, turning it down, but not off) Sorry. Did it wake you?
SVET:
Not at all. I’m just waiting for the sun to come up.
GENE:
Any scorpions?
SVET:
Not this time, thank god.
GENE:
Good. (He continues working.)
SVET:
Worklist?
GENE:
Mmmm.
SVET:
What have I got? Cleanup after tea?
GENE:
Is that alright?
SVET:
Fine.
GENE:
Flower arranging.
SVET:
For tonight?
GENE:
Yep. Any time before 4:00.
SVET:
Mother wants me working with Iovanna on music at some point.
GENE:
I’ve got that. Mornings, all week.
22
SVET:
She is so stubborn.
GENE:
Which?
SVET:
(laughing softly) Both.
SVETLANA starts the coffee for the apprentices. GENE continues drawing. SVET pauses
near the upstage door.
SVET:
Mmm. I love that smell.
GENE:
Coffee?
SVET:
(smiling) No. The creosote bushes. When you wake up to that first thing, it
reminds you right away where you are.
GENE:
You’re right. Over the course of the winter I get used to it. I always know it’s
time to go back to Wisconsin when I stop noticing the smell of the desert.
SVET:
But then you never lose appreciation for it.
GENE:
True. (Returning to his work.)
SVET:
What does it look like this week?
GENE:
I don’t know yet. Desert colors.
SVET:
May I see?
GENE:
(thinking) If you want to.
SVET:
(closing in over his shoulder) These aren’t geometric.
GENE:
No. Bit of a departure.
SVET:
Or a return to your roots? This looks like some of your earlier work.
GENE:
I didn’t think you’d remember those.
SVET:
Of course. Still, this is new.
GENE:
New influences.
SVET:
(pause) They’re so….
23
GENE:
So…?
SVET:
Ripe.
GENE:
That’s a descriptive I haven’t heard before.
SVET:
They’re…what? They’re bursting.
GENE laughs.
SVET:
It’s not funny! What are you trying for? Ethereal? Erotic? What?!
GENE:
Nothing. I’m not trying for anything in particular. Winter cactus blossoms.
SVET:
What is that color? The deep, reddish purple?
GENE:
Foxglove.
SVET:
It’s luscious. Is that a desert color?
GENE:
Rarely.
SVET:
Gene, are you still painting? Other than this, I mean?
GENE:
No time, really.
SVET:
You’re talented. You’ve got to find the time. Please.
GENE:
Maybe after Taliesin is through with me.
GENE posts the list.
SVET:
See you later.
GENE:
No errands today. I’m in the office if anyone wants me.
SVETLANA approaches the worklist, turns gramophone up a bit, and eventually wanders
out of downstage door. Lighting shifts as the music dies out. GRAF, DAVY, KAY, and
JACK are drinking their coffee. SAM is showing MICHAEL the worklist, posted upstage.
SAM:
It’s posted once a week, but sometimes there are changes, even after we all go to
bed, so it’s best to check it every morning. Early. That way, if you’ve got to fill in
on kitchen or morning dining room duty, you aren’t late.
24
MICHAEL:
I’m not on here.
SAM:
You’re shadowing me this week. You’ll go where I go, work whatever crew I’m
on. Until they see how you do.
MICHAEL:
I’m a hard worker.
SAM:
You’ll have to be. But that’s not the point –
DAVY:
Michael, Taliesin demands a certain kind of work ethic. It’s more than sweat.
MICHAEL:
How many days a week do I build and how many in the studio?
JACK:
Don’t ever ask that question.
SAM:
Sorry, Jack. He didn’t know.
MICHAEL:
Can I be kicked out for the wrong kind of work?
SAM:
You can be kicked out for anything.
DAVY:
Sam, don’t do that. Look, Michael. Taliesin is…it’s unique. Do you understand
the classical definition of the relationship between a Master and an Apprentice?
MICHAEL:
Maybe. I thought I did.
DAVY:
It can’t be explained, it has to be experienced. Mr. Wright’s version calls for
absolute loyalty, unquestioning obeisance, and work. It starts there. The Japanese
call it, minarai.
SAM:
We’re all doing it. There is a measure of surrender…giving yourself over.
MICHAEL:
Surrender?
JACK:
To Taliesin. To the process.
MICHAEL:
What is this? It just says “Saturday – Taliesin Evening”.
DAVY:
Black tie. Saturday evenings are for concerts, lectures, entertaining special guests,
that sort of thing.
SAM:
Dignitaries with deep pockets, savvy?
25
DAVY:
More than that, cultural exposure contributes to your development as an architect.
MICHAEL:
Formal? I have the navy blue suit I bought for my mom’s funeral. It’s in my car.
SAM:
No dice. Got to be the real deal.
DAVY:
We may have one around that’ll fit you. Vincent lost so much weight, his old one
might hang nicely on you.
SAM:
Didn’t anyone tell you?
MICHAEL:
What?
SAM:
A Frank Lloyd Wright apprentice needs three things: a hammer, a sleeping bag,
and a tuxedo.
SVETLANA and WES enter from downstage door.
WES:
Any changes, Michael?
MICHAEL:
I’m sorry…I don’t know. This is the only one I’ve seen.
SAM:
Same version. Nothing new.
MICHAEL:
Jack’s not on here.
WES:
Never is, oddly enough.
SAM:
(to MICHAEL) Waste of time. Jack’s never scheduled any place other than the
drafting studio these days.
JACK exits out the upstage door.
DAVY:
(to SVETLANA) He’ll be alright.
MICHAEL:
(still staring at the worklist) This is quite beautiful. Do they always look like
this?
KAY:
Each one more gorgeous than the next.
MICHAEL:
Who does them? Mr. Wright?
GRAF:
Snort.
26
MICHAEL:
This is art.
SVET:
Yes, they are. Gene does them. The decorative elements are a sort of theme.
When he has time. He’s was trained as a painter.
KAY:
Actually on his way to being a little famous. That’s how Mr. Wright crossed paths
with him.
MICHAEL:
When he has time? How could he have time? It seems as if he never sleeps.
GRAF:
And don’t you forget it. He’s always awake, and he’s always somewhere.
SAM:
I came back from the latrine last night at some ungodly hour, and he was just
sitting there on that petroglyph. I’d swear he wasn’t there when I passed him the
first time, but he said he was.
KAY:
What was he doing?
SAM:
Didn’t say. Just looking up.
GRAF:
Creepy. Some say.
DAVY:
Enigmatic. Some say.
MICHAEL:
In any case, these illustrations are elegant.
GRAF:
What better way for one to find out that one has been press-ganged into peeling
potatoes all day?
MICHAEL:
And they’re…pugilistic.
SVET:
What?
MICHAEL:
Pugilistic. Aggressive. Almost bloody. (Sees that everyone is looking at him.) I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t say anything. I don’t know anything about art.
SAM:
I see it now. Like bruised hearts all over. Huh.
WES:
(kissing SVETLANA) Off to the mines, boys!
ALL exit through the upstage door except SVETLANA, who stands gazing at the worklist. Scene
change: It’s Only a Paper Moon. Lights down.
27
Act One, scene 4
Late afternoon. SAM, MICHAEL, WES, and DAVY enter through the upstage door. Some are
shirtless, all are dusty and sweaty.
SAM:
I’m telling you, you’re wrong!
WES:
I suppose you are entitled to think so.
SAM:
Empirically, you are mistaken.
WES:
Empirically, my left nut.
DAVY:
I don’t know, Wes. You may actually lose on this one.
WES:
Davison, you’re a pussy. Michael? You’re on my side!
MICHAEL:
I think I missed the first few rounds. I’m not certain I have a grip on all the finer
points of the argument just yet.
WES:
Oh, he knows how to equivocate. Such a sad and cynical quality in one so young.
And one so new….
DAVY:
Now that’s a threat. Low blow, Peters. No threatening the rookie.
GRAF enters from downstage door.
GRAF:
What’s up? You gonna fire the rookie, Wes? Can I watch?
MICHAEL:
I didn’t say I wouldn’t be, I just want to hear all sides.
SAM:
Thou shalt not commit logical fallacies, Superman.
WES:
(to GRAF) Okay, here’s the nightmare scenario. We all get trapped out here. No
running water –
GRAF:
I think I’m living this nightmare.
DAVY:
No, the water truck springs a leak and nobody notices. The entire supply leeches
into the ground overnight.
GRAF:
Alright….
SAM:
Not enough gas to get all the way into town. There’s been a shortage.
28
GRAF:
I’m with you.
SAM:
So we’re all stuck out here, no water, food dwindling fast.
DAVY:
Eventually, things reach a breaking point.
SAM:
Desperation sets in.
Suspense builds.
WES:
Who do you eat?
GRAF:
How did I know, all this time, all this training, that in actuality we were here only
to have this very discussion?
SAM:
Seriously. Who’s first?
GRAF:
So Wes has a candidate in mind. And this is this just the rest of you against his
pick?
SAM:
For now.
WES:
Come on! It is so obvious.
SAM:
Your choice is completely unscientific. Anyone can see that.
WES:
Only because you haven’t heard my initial proviso.
DAVY:
Which is?
WES:
Mr. and Mrs. Wright aren’t at camp when it happens.
SAM:
(pause) So?
DAVY:
I don’t see what….I don’t think that changes anything.
GRAF:
(pause) Ohh.
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
I get it.
SAM:
You do not. From that?
29
GRAF:
I do. I get it.
SAM:
You do not! You are such a liar.
GRAF:
Really? You’re sure?
SAM:
I’ve never been more positive. You’re an asshole. You don’t have it.
GRAF:
What do you want to bet?
SAM:
Anything.
DAVY:
You don’t have anything to bet. Neither of you.
WES:
Wait a minute! You can’t bet yet, we haven’t solved the first thing!
SAM:
We can’t solve the first thing, or it would ruin this thing.
MICHAEL:
This is a side bet.
DAVY:
Yes, he’s right. This has to be settled first. Exposure of the answer would negate
Graf’s assertion that he knows.
WES:
Got it.
SAM:
Doesn’t matter. Davy speaks true. We don’t have anything to bet.
GRAF:
I do. And so do you.
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
Your cushy babysitting job for my kitchen duties. All week.
SAM:
I have to stir a bubbling pot and you get to show Princess First-Blister here how
to construct a rubble masonry wall out of desert rocks? Fine by me.
DAVY:
I don’t know, guys. It’s chancy….
WES:
Personally, I don’t care, but if Mrs. Wright finds out….We’d better not risk it.
GRAF:
Come on, big man. I’m backing you. I’m saying: not only do I know who it is, but
I believe you’re right. We’d eat this person first. No question.
30
DAVY:
So everything would be settled if Graf has figured it out?
GRAF:
Look me in the eyes, Peters. I got it. You know I do.
WES:
He knows. I’m sure of it. I’m in!
DAVY:
Michael, you’re the tie-breaker. Me and Sam against Wes and Graf. If Graf says
the name, you’ll concede that Wes is right? That’s the guy. That’s who we’d
cook?
MICHAEL:
(pause) Alright.
SAM:
Yeah!!! There’s no way. You couldn’t know. It makes no sense. It’s an illogical
progression.
DAVY:
Stop! You’re giving him too much information. He hasn’t said the name yet, he
could still switch.
WES:
Go.
Moment of suspense.
GRAF:
Gene Masselink.
WES punches MICHAEL in the arm, hoots, and lifts GRAF into the air.
WES:
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!
SAM:
No! They’re psychic or something. Otherwise it’s unscientific. He’s the skinniest
bastard of all of us.
WES:
Human nature, boys.
SAM:
What?
GRAF:
Man invented religion to keep us from eating one another. You take the Wrights
out of the equation, you better kill Masselink, because without that semblance of
order, he’d start picking us off one by one. And we’d never even see him doing it.
Lights down. Scene change: Gotta Be This or That.
Act One, scene 5
Music in: Beethoven 11 Sonnet in B-Flat Major. Early evening. WES is sitting, sketching.
Periodically, he looks out front over the desert to check in with the vista. Occasionally he erases
31
a line a draws it anew. GRAF is preparing himself a snack – peanut butter on celery. MICHAEL
enters from the upstage door.
MICHAEL:
You guys seen Davison?
GRAF:
Not since lunch.
WES:
I think he was going to pick up supplies with Kay.
GRAF:
Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days?
MICHAEL:
Alright. (He bellies up to the table to snack with GRAF.) I thought we weren’t
supposed to draft outside the studio.
WES:
You’re not.
Silence.
MICHAEL:
Butcher paper?
WES:
Cuts down on the sun glare.
MICHAEL:
What are you working on?
WES:
Lines. The support systems of cacti.
MICHAEL:
Sam told me that you went to the M.I.T..
WES:
Yep.
MICHAEL:
Mr. Wright says you’re the best young engineer he’s ever worked with.
WES:
Does he?
MICHAEL:
That you’re instinctual.
WES:
(laughing softly) That’s code for “didn’t graduate”.
MICHAEL:
So? Mr. Wright doesn’t have a degree either.
GRAF:
You ever say that to him and it’s a fast ticket out of Fellowship. It’ll make your
head spin.
32
MICHAEL:
I’d never say it to anyone else here. It doesn’t seem to matter to the rest of the
world. (To WES.) He also said that you understand the most important aspect of
building, you understand “Nature’s engineering”.
WES:
It’s all there.
MICHAEL:
Will you show me?
WES looks at him closely.
WES:
Really? You really want to learn it?
MICHAEL:
That’s why I’m here. I studied engineering at Texas A&M, but structure isn’t
enough. Math is too dry for me.
WES:
Math is the bones, and it exists in organic structures, but it doesn’t allow for life.
Life is magic. A cactus doesn’t calculate how it supports weight, but it models
power for us if we allow it to. Look. What do you see?
MICHAEL:
(looking…nothing) I’m trying.
WES:
All you have to do is observe.
MICHAEL:
I’d like to. (Pause.) I’m never scheduled for the studio. How can I observe if I’m
not there to watch the work? Jack and Mr. Wright are always holed up in there,
and I’m locked out. I’m banished to the hinterlands to set concrete!
WES:
It’s a step in the right direction. Trust the process and you will be rewarded.
MICHAEL:
Rewarded with what? All the “process” has given me so far are sore muscles and
sunburn.
WES:
When you first got here you said you were a hard worker.
MICHAEL:
I am. I always have been.
WES:
No argument here. But what else are you? What do you have now that you didn’t
arrive with?
MICHAEL:
I….
WES:
Who are you? In one year, have you changed at all?
MICHAEL:
Of course.
33
WES:
Did you come here to become a better version of yourself, or are you just taking
some kind of bitter medicine that’s supposed to be good for you? (Pause.)
Dammit, you’ve been here a year now! You’ve learned nothing? Think of a day
that something struck you afresh, took you by surprise. One fact. A fact
about…concrete.
MICHAEL:
Okay. (A breath.) Concrete is extremely weatherproof.
WES:
And.
MICHAEL:
Virtually fireproof.
WES:
What else?
MICHAEL:
Versatile. You can build almost anything with it. And….strong.
WES:
Right. We use a lot of it.
MICHAEL:
Well, it’s cheap to make.
WES:
Which means what?
MICHAEL:
It…we…(Struggling.) It means people will use it. Most anyone who wants a
structure could build one cheaply, it would protect them, and it would last.
WES:
Concrete is…?
MICHAEL:
Democratic.
They look at one another for a moment.
MICHAEL:
If I understand the nature of materials I’ll know how to use them.
WES:
Once you understand that, you’ll know how to give people what they need, not
what they say they want.
MICHAEL:
What’s democratic about that?
WES:
Figuring out the answer to that question is what will make you an architect.
MICHAEL contemplates this as he continues his snack. GRAF moves toward WES,
taking the celery out of MICHAEL’s hand.
34
GRAF:
So, I was just thinking.
WES:
About?
GRAF:
What you were saying. The nature of materials. And nature’s lessons.
WES:
Organic structure.
GRAF:
Right. And it pertains to…?
WES:
Anything. Everything.
GRAF:
Well, it got me thinking about cantilevers. (Using the celery to demonstrate.)
Here’s this thing, this huge piece just goes soaring out into the air, with nothing
supporting it.
WES:
Seemingly. It is supported.
GRAF:
Nothing underneath, no structure, no foundation.
WES:
There’s a principle. What we said: part magic, part basic engineering. If about
two-thirds of the length of the lever is counterbalanced, weighted, then the rest
can fly. What you see looks effortless because of the work being done over here.
It’s a magic trick – misdirection.
GRAF:
(to MICHAEL) You know, kid, Mr. Wright tells a story about him and three of his
cousins when they were little. One afternoon, he told them that if they came to his
house that night that there would be a marvelous party – a full spread and special
presents he knew each of them particularly longed for. That evening they got
dressed in their finest and showed up, to the total surprise of Frank’s mother. She,
in order to help him save face, whipped up an impromptu party. When the other
boys left young Frank turned to his mother and asked, “Why did the fools have to
spoil the fantasy by actually believing me?”
MICHAEL:
I don’t understand.
WES:
(quietly) What’s your point?
GRAF:
Wes, you’re probably the finest engineer I’ve ever seen and I know you’ve run
the calculations. I know you’ve worked at the sites. Mr. Wright can sell anyone
on anything. He can paint Kaufmann the picture of a cantilevered balcony that
can be floated out into the frothy ether. But Fallingwater couldn’t be built by a
showman – those field changes required an engineer. My point is, anyone who
35
understands structure understands that when you cantilever, the lever itself can’t
be made of peanut butter.
WES:
(dangerously) There’s no room for cynics here, Graf.
GRAF:
My apologies. I didn’t mean to spoil the surprise.
GRAF exits through the downstage door. Scene change: Bach French Suite # 5 in G Major.
Lights down.
36
Act One, scene 6
Mid-afternoon. GENE and KAY are arranging flowers. JACK is slouched down in a chair with
his hat over his eyes.
GENE:
It’s already getting down to the wire. Davy and two of the other boys went in last
week to get advice from the sheriff. America is at war, if they fail to show up for
induction when they get called up, no two ways about it – they’ll be prosecuted.
KAY:
They’re asking to be deemed “conscientious objectors”?
GENE:
In a way. Mr. Wright wrote a letter to the draft board, and 26 of the fellows
signed it. We’re arguing that they’re needed here more. Our work is of national
importance. Look at the bombings in Europe. If something like that happens here,
the country will need all the draftsmen and builders it can get.
KAY:
But I thought Conscientious Objector status is strictly for religious purposes. If
the board agrees with their argument, they’d have to exempt just about any skilled
labor force necessary to the homefront effort.
JACK:
(lifting his hat) It wouldn’t be that different than what Wes is doing. He’s applied
for deferment under the agricultural exemption.
KAY:
What does that mean?
JACK:
It’s a numbers game. Each land owner who works his own fields is allowed
exemption if he qualifies. Wes’ and Svetlana’s farm in Wisconsin has a certain
head of cattle and a certain amount of acreage under cultivation.
KAY:
That counts?
JACK:
Supposedly. America still needs food.
KAY:
Will you go if you’re called up, Gene?
GENE:
They wouldn’t want me; I’ve got a heart defect. Jack’s the one getting the
pressure. His father…
JACK:
My father thinks I’m a coward. He says if I avoid induction I’ll be ostracized
from American society, even after the war is over.
KAY:
What will you do, Jack? Without you in the studio, we grind to a halt.
37
GENE and JACK exchange a glance.
KAY:
What? (Silence.) Tell me.
GENE:
You can’t breathe a word.
JACK:
She’d better not.
GENE:
Kay, there’s nothing coming in. There are no commissions.
KAY:
Holy christ.
JACK:
And it wouldn’t matter if there were, there’s nothing to build with. The materials
are all being diverted…put aside, just in case.
KAY:
Did you sign the letter Mr. Wright sent?
JACK:
Yes.
KAY:
You’d go to jail.
JACK:
I suppose, but Mr. Wright says it will never come to that. He has too many
connections.
KAY:
If it goes to court in Wisconsin, you haven’t got a prayer. Those judges hate us.
GENE:
They don’t hate us.
KAY:
He’s publically thumbed his nose at every authority figure of morality or law in
that state. You don’t think they’d like to stick it to him?
GENE:
They don’t hate us.
JACK:
(conceding) They hate Mr. Wright.
KAY:
It’s the same thing. They hate us because we revere him. They hate our hulking
“cooperative farm” on the river, and they resent our winter retreat to our
“commune in the desert”. (Looking pointedly at JACK.) They hate people like us.
Was Mr. Wright’s name on the letter?
GENE:
No. We decided that would be a mistake.
KAY:
Was it on Taliesin stationary?
38
GENE:
Of course.
KAY:
Then it won’t matter.
JACK:
(realizing) That big red square on the paper. What were we thinking?
GENE:
You are sons of Taliesin. The necessity of your work—the value of Taliesin to the
country—was the fundamental argument. Of course it was on our stationary.
JACK:
Gene, think. Mr. Wright’s time in Italy and Germany. His Japanese art collection.
Hell, his affiliations with Lindberg and Ford are enough to sink us.
GENE:
We’ve had a dozen Jewish boys in the Fellowship. He worked with Adler,
Fallingwater for the Kaufmanns…! Nobody could possibly believe he’s an antiSemite. They couldn’t prove that.
JACK:
They don’t have to prove it in order to make us pay for his sins.
IOVANNA enters. Dead silence.
IO:
What are you talking about?
GENE:
Nothing.
IO:
I can read the looks on your faces. You’re hiding a secret.
KAY:
It’s none of your concern, Miss Nosy Parker.
IO:
(referring to flower arrangements) Are these ready?
KAY:
Yes.
IO:
They don’t look ready.
KAY:
Well they are.
GENE:
Is she asking for them?
IO:
Yes, she wants a fresh one for the living room right now. Where’s the other one
supposed to go?
GENE:
Here, I’ll take them. Mr. Wright wanted one in the guest quarters, and she won’t
like that. It’s better if I do it.
39
KAY:
Put the bigger one in the entry to the living room.
GENE:
Do you think I’m an idiot? The little one I’ll hide for a while. After that, I’m
going to circle the house until I know that she’s seen me. Then, I put the nicer one
in the entry. (He exits.)
IOVANNA flops down on the divan.
IO:
Kay, will you do something with my hair this afternoon?
KAY:
I thought you were supposed to be working on your music with your sister?
IO:
Svet’s running errands this afternoon.
KAY:
What about Gene?
IO:
I don’t like working with Gene as much.
KAY:
He’s an excellent musician. And he’s very patient with you, which is more than
I’d be, you little snipe.
IO:
He is. He’s patient. And he’s nice when I make a mistake, but he maintains the
party line on Debussy.
KAY:
If your father hears one strain….
JACK:
Iovanna, you’d better be careful.
IO:
I am being careful. I only play it when Mother and Daddy are both gone.
JACK:
I heard it last Thursday when he was out near that new tent platform.
IO:
He was going to be out there for hours. He said so.
KAY:
All the same. Leave it alone and none of us get in trouble.
IO:
Does this mean you won’t fix my hair?
KAY:
What do you want?
IO:
Something smart for tonight. Can you make it look glamorous?
KAY:
You mean, older?
40
IO:
Mother won’t care.
KAY:
No more Debussy unless they go to town?
IO:
Yes.
KAY:
I’ll do what I can. Do you have enough water in your room to wash it?
IO:
No. (Glancing at JACK.)
JACK:
Don’t look at me, all mine has razor stubble in it.
KAY:
Oh, alright. I have a good amount left we can use.
IO:
Uhhh. I can’t wait to get away from here.
JACK:
Away to where?
IO:
Anywhere.
KAY:
You’re the luckiest girl in the world. Where would you want to go? Where would
be more interesting than here? Cultural events. Musicians and artists from around
the world. What more could you want?
IO:
Running water?
JACK:
How bourgeois.
IO:
I was kidding. A little privacy. A little freedom.
KAY:
You know what your problem is? You’re spoiled. You’ve never experienced the
world, but trust me, you’re not missing much. This is Shangri-La. It’s mundane
out there.
IO:
It can’t all be. I’ve been to New York, but to stay there, to live there, to immerse
yourself in Paris.
KAY:
You know how your father feels about cities.
JACK:
Look, Iovanna, I understand. Cities are the great attractors. Folks worship at the
feet of the almighty “city”, declaring it to be the source of all ideas. The truth is,
it’s the same people circulating the same collective wisdom until they can’t
recognize an original thought. Same cathedrals, same monuments. It is only when
an artist creates a distance for himself that he sees through it, silences it, hears his
41
own voice, looks through his own eyes. But you won’t know that until you go
discover it for yourself.
KAY:
Jack, don’t encourage her.
JACK:
She’ll have to eventually. But I’ll tell you this, kiddo. When you’re done you’ll
know one irrefutable fact – all cities smell the same. (JACK exits upstage.)
KAY:
Don’t listen to him. Everyone would be heartsick if you left.
IO:
No, they wouldn’t. I’ve heard people say I’m a pain in the neck to have around.
KAY:
Sometimes grown-ups just want to talk to other grown-ups. About grown-up
things. It’s natural. Don’t press your nose against the glass too hard, the time will
come soon enough. You’re already starting to turn a few heads among the junior
apprentices.
IO:
I’m not.
KAY:
You are. It’s making your mother a little nervous.
IO:
It’s making Daddy nervous, not her. Mother keeps putting me forward. She sent
me to the apple ranch to pick with Sam the other day. She’s seating me next to the
Kirby’s son at dinner tonight.
KAY:
Do you like Sam?
IO:
We’re friends. He’s fun.
KAY:
Does he like you?
IO:
I guess. He seems to.
KAY:
Does he say so?
IO:
What difference does that make? He’s always trying to wrangle time alone with
me, that counts more than what he says, doesn’t it?
KAY:
Maybe your mother sees you two spending time together and wants to encourage
it, but you need to be smart. I know he seems like he’s your age, but he’s wilder
than you think. He’s really a bit too old for you. You don’t want to send him false
signals.
IO:
I’m not a child, Kay.
42
KAY:
But you’re not a woman, yet, either. That’s exactly what I mean.
IO:
Do you think I don’t know what goes on around here after dark? I watch. I listen.
And I know things.
KAY:
Such as?
IO:
Who leaves notes around in secret hidey-holes for someone to find later. Who
comes and goes between certain rooms at all hours. Mother eggs it on because she
knows that this many men in one place need “diversions”, but Father hasn’t
figured it out yet. In my opinion it’s getting sloppy, but I don’t run the show.
KAY:
No, you don’t.
IO:
It’s nothing personal. It’s a service to Taliesin in a way.
KAY:
I don’t think you’re really aware of what you’re implying.
IO:
One thing I’ve never figured out though, does Jack get first crack at the new guys,
or does it take longer for that predilection to surface?
KAY:
Watch it.
IO:
Sacred ground?
KAY begins to leave.
IO:
If you want to keep Sam to yourself for awhile, just say so.
KAY:
(Stops) I know things, too, little girl.
IO:
I’m not as little as everyone thinks.
KAY:
Evidently. But grown-ups know what to leave out.
KAY exits downstage. Scene change: Tommy Dorsey’s Song of India. Lights down.
43
Act One, scene 7
As the lights come up, we find MICHAEL and SAM setting up chairs facing one direction. WES
enters from the sleeping boxes and places one chair facing all the others. GRAF, DAVY, and
KAY come in through the upstage door and stand near the back. KAY and DAVY are holding
hands. GENE enters from the downstage door. JACK and a fairly pregnant SVETLANA enter
from the sleeping boxes. JACK sits in the lone chair. EVERYONE except WES takes a seat facing
JACK.
JACK:
(a deep breath) Alright. I’m ready.
WES:
Jack, some of the boys were in town this morning at the hardware store.
JACK:
Okay.
WES:
A couple of townies saw them drive in, and everyone was dead polite while they
all were inside. Apparently they thought that all our boys had left to go out back
and load up, so they started talking pretty freely.
JACK:
The townies did?
WES:
Right. Except that one of the apprentices, I won’t say who, was still in the store.
Off to the side, behind a rack. They were talking about you, Jack.
JACK:
About me.
WES:
Yep.
JACK:
Alright. They knew my name? They were using my name?
WES:
They were. According to the apprentice they said “Jack Howe” several times.
They called you “the short one”, and referred to you as “the head draftsman”.
JACK:
They knew me.
WES:
Apparently so.
JACK:
Huh.
GRAF:
(standing) This is crazy! Why are we doing this?
WES:
We have to.
44
GRAF:
Do we?
WES:
Look, Graf, I don’t like this any more than you do.
GRAF:
Funny, it looks a little like you’re enjoying this. Dragging it out.
WES:
There are several ways this can go. If he did it, that’s one thing. If he didn’t, that’s
another. But either way, if Mr. Wright hears about it then all bets are off. We are
our own society, like it or not.
GRAF:
Then why do we have to behave like their society? Is this a trial? High courtroom
drama?
KAY:
We have to know before it goes any further. So that we can present a united front.
GRAF:
A united front? Since when? I’ve seen us tear each other apart from the inside out
–
GENE:
A united front to the outside world. It may be the only way. How they see one of
us is how they see all of us.
GRAF:
Who cares?
JACK:
Graf, stop. Please. (Pause. GRAF sits down.) Go ahead, Wes.
WES:
The kid who left two weeks ago? It seems that when he cleared out he only went
as far as Paradise Valley. He got work at the hotel. After a few days, his new
friends start asking questions about what goes on out here. And he told them.
JACK:
Shit.
WES:
It’s the talk of the town.
KAY:
Are we sure? I mean, does everyone know, or is it a dirty little secret bouncing
around among a few men?
GENE:
Even if it is, it will be everywhere soon enough. It’ll never make the papers, it’s
too salacious, but laborers? Ranchers? The feed store? It will reach the ears of
everyone in town we do business with.
WES:
If anyone with money hears the rumors, then the story rolls around forever. We
become the “fruit farm” and no business man of standing in any community will
commission us to build so much as a birdhouse.
45
GENE:
Jack?
Pause.
WES:
Jack?
GRAF:
Oh, for god’s sake! Yes, Jack! What do you have to say for yourself? Defend your
actions! How dare you risk the pristine reputation of Frank Lloyd Wright! How
dare you put us at risk! Look at you all, holding your collective breath, ready to
martyr Jack Howe on the altar of Taliesin in order to keep this from ruining our
“society”. This is medieval.
WES:
For christ’s sake, Graf! Shut up.
GRAF:
You all think this is news? I heard the gossip before I ever got here. And not only
about the apprentices. It was my father’s main objection to my working with Mr.
Wright.
SVET:
What’s that supposed to mean?
GENE:
Nothing, Svet. He doesn’t mean anything.
GRAF:
Like hell. Look, Svet, there have always been very public suspicions about Frank
Lloyd Wright. He can talk a good game and he’s a ladies’ man and all that….
SVET:
Say it.
WES:
You do, Graf, and you’re done.
GRAF:
He said it himself, in his autobiography, in his speeches. How he felt about Cecil
Corwin? It crosses the line. Most men can’t relate to the way Mr. Wright thinks of
it. As long as you don’t physically express it, the desire for another man is
acceptable? Sorry, Jack, I’m not saying you’re…(A breath.) …I’m just saying
that men…most men, think a particular way about it. They can’t imagine it, and
they can’t forgive it, and it’s all they see when they look you in the eye. How they
see one of us is how they see all of us, right, Gene? All I’m saying is, who are we
really talking about here? (GRAF leaves through the upstage door.)
SVET:
(looking around at the others) Is that true? Wes?
ALL look to WES. He cannot meet their eyes.
WES:
Sorry, Jack.
46
JACK:
It’s okay, Wes. I’ve always known. (Breath.) What’s next?
WES:
The kid gave details. He used the word “predatory”. Obviously he’s got a big
mouth, but do you think he’d turn you in to the law? Is he that type?
JACK:
I don’t know.
GENE:
He couldn’t have any proof.
KAY:
He’d need some in order to do anything other than blab.
WES:
I’m betting that if he were going to, he would have done it by now.
JACK:
Pretty soon it won’t matter. Fellas, would you excuse us?
MICHAEL and SAM exit upstage.
JACK:
Davy?
DAVY:
(looking at KAY) Yeah. We’ve already talked about it.
JACK:
Davy and I both got our letters from the court in Wisconsin this week. Since I
refused induction and they won’t grant me status as a Conscientious Objector, the
judge has ordered me to jail.
WES:
Both of you?
DAVY:
Yeah. We each got four years.
Music into Intermission: Bach Fantasia in C Minor. Lights out.
47
Act Two, scene 1
Music into Act II: Just For a Thrill
The Sun Trap – now the Sun Cottage – looks entirely different. Full 15 degrees walls are
structured. FLW-designed furniture is in evidence throughout. Near the wall as a decorative
element, hanging cruciform on piece of bamboo, is a red men’s yukata. It’s mid-afternoon. A
more mature IOVANNA is lying on pillows on the floor, reading. MICHAEL enters from upstage.
MICHAEL:
What have you been up to today?
IO:
Not much. Reading. Avoiding certain people.
MICHAEL looks at her cautiously.
IO:
Not you.
MICHAEL:
Good to know. It’s nice out. Not a cloud in the sky.
IO:
No, thanks. I’m dug in.
MICHAEL:
(pause) Oh.
MICHAEL heads for the sleeping boxes.
IO:
You were asking me, weren’t you?
MICHAEL:
(stopping) I’m sorry. Asking you…?
IO:
You were asking me to go outside. With you.
MICHAEL:
Actually, I was just encouraging you to go out. To get some fresh air. I couldn’t
join you, I have to get cleaned up to go to town.
IO:
Where are you going?
MICHAEL:
To pick up your mother’s trunk, she’s had it repaired.
IO:
Yawn.
MICHAEL:
Do you wish you were going?
IO:
No. God, no!
48
MICHAEL:
Don’t you like London?
IO:
It’s stuffy. They don’t talk about anything personal, or real. I’m always tempted
to pass gas, just to see if they’d even blink an eyelash. What a bunch of prudes.
Have you ever noticed that their lips don’t move when they speak?
MICHAEL:
(laughing) Yes, I have. My grandfather was English. Technically, it’s just the top
one. That’s where the phrase comes from.
IO:
What phrase?
MICHAEL:
“Stiff upper lip.” It keeps them from giving in to emotion.
IO:
Hmm. Never thought about that. Would you get me a cold drink?
MICHAEL:
Sure.
As MICHAEL moves to the icebox, IOVANNA rubs her ankles together – perhaps to
scratch them against one another? Upon turning around he realizes that her skirt has
slid up her legs, and he has much more of a view from this angle.
MICHAEL:
Here.
IO:
Thanks.
MICHAEL:
Your…uh, dress is….
IO:
Oh. (She adjusts it.) Thanks. That could have been embarrassing. Your
grandparents were English?
MICHAEL:
Not both, just my grandfather. My grandmother’s Irish. His parents wouldn’t let
him marry her, so they came to America.
IO:
Ah, I see. He had the audacity to marry down. And these are your father’s
parents?
MICHAEL:
Yep. I never knew my mother’s.
IO:
Your mother died right before you came here, right?
MICHAEL:
(grinning) You’ve been asking around about me?
IO:
Maybe. Did she raise you by herself?
49
MICHAEL:
Yeah, she did. My father wasn’t really involved in my life, but I would visit his
folks from time to time. They told me he died in the early 30s.
IO:
This place makes a home for all kinds of orphans.
MICHAEL:
I guess I never thought of myself as an orphan.
IO:
We attract lots of boys whose parents are still alive. They’re all orphans in one
way or another. Father looks for designers, mother looks for the child in the
wilderness.
MICHAEL:
At least I know which one I am.
IO:
Nobody comes who isn’t a little of both.
MICHAEL:
That’s not a nice thing to say.
IO:
Please don’t be offended. I’m not implying that you’re weak. There’s nothing
wrong with searching. The ones who are truly lost cling to safety. To familiarity.
MICHAEL:
And you?
IO:
Well, I’m certainly not an orphan.
MICHAEL:
Of course not. Quite the opposite.
IO:
Meaning?
MICHAEL:
Nothing. I don’t mean a thing.
IO:
Good.
MICHAEL:
You most definitely are not without parental guidance.
IO:
Are you implying that my parents control me?
MICHAEL:
“Control” you? (Chuckling.) No, I wouldn’t say that.
IO:
Nobody controls me.
Pause.
MICHAEL:
I’m surprised your parents are still planning the trip.
50
IO:
Why?
MICHAEL:
Jack and Davy could be home any day.
IO:
That’s what I hear.
MICHAEL:
Wouldn’t it be nice to welcome them home?
IO:
Mother and Daddy already have their tickets. It doesn’t make sense for them to
postpone when god knows how long the judge will take to release the boys.
MICHAEL:
I suppose. What are you going to do while your folks are away?
IO:
I hadn’t thought about it. The girls want to go in and stay at the hotel for a couple
of days. Swim. Bake in the sun. Get cute boys to buy them drinks. Have a bath
every night.
MICHAEL:
Some of the guys are going to get a couple of bottles and have a campfire. Roast
some weenies.
IO:
(laughing) Glamorous.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, it’s hard to compete with a bathtub.
IO:
I don’t know, it doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe I’ll stick around and tempt fate by
being the only girl in the wilderness.
MICHAEL:
Okay. Well, maybe I’ll see you around.
Desert Oasis Sounds. Lights fade out onstage.
51
Act Two, scene 2
Gunfire – multiple shots. Lots of yells, whistling and howling. Sunset. Lights come up as JACK,
WES, SAM, and SVETLANA enter from upstage. WES and SAM are frogmarching JACK, and
SVETLANA is carrying his bag and a cocktail. ALL but JACK are happy-drunk.
WES:
Welcome home, jailbird.
WES and SAM deposit JACK unceremoniously on the divan. SVETLANA sends his bag
sailing down the hall toward the sleeping boxes.
SAM:
At least your timing is good. We now join the program already in progress.
JACK:
Looks like.
SVET:
You’ll have to catch up. (She hands him the drink.)
SAM:
Is that possible?
JACK:
All I can do is try. (He drains the glass in one.)
The rest clap and whoop. SAM pulls a flask from his pocket and pours JACK another.
WES:
You may want to be careful there. He’s been dry for a few years.
JACK:
Nothing like jumping back into the deep end. (Drains the next.)
SVET:
(pulling JACK up to lead him out) Come out by the fire-pit – we’re celebrating.
JACK:
Lead the way.
Just as they start toward the upstage door, DAVY and KAY come through it. He is
carrying her over his shoulder. He pounds his chest like Tarzan, while she laughs
uncontrollably. He heads toward the sleeping boxes.
KAY:
(over DAVY’S shoulder) Thirty-three months! The first one to disturb us gets a
cactus in his sleeping bag!
KAY and DAVY exit down the hall.
WES:
Go get ‘er, Tarzan!
52
SAM:
Thank god Mr. Wright’s gone. Davy won’t be able to walk for a week, let alone
pour concrete.
WES:
That’s true. Poor guy. I’ve half-a-mind to go help him out. C’mon, Sam, he needs
some coaching! (Calling down the hall.) If you’re rusty, Davison, we can talk
you through it!
SVET:
Wes! Get the hell away from there! You, too, Sam. Let’s go. Everybody outside.
Give them some privacy. (She proceeds to push SAM, WES, and JACK out the
upstage door.)
The evening wears on, the sky turning from deep orange to desert-night blue.
Phonograph music up, Ben Selvin’s Dancing in the Dark. A slightly tipsy WES and
SVETLANA dance downstage, outside the space, to the music. GENE watches from the
doorway. Eventually, WES and SVETLANA drift away. GENE wanders off upstage.
MICHAEL and SAM come in through the upstage door a few beats later.
SAM:
Mine’s going to have glass block walls on the north side.
MICHAEL:
You’re nuts!
SAM:
It’ll look sharp.
MICHAEL:
You’ll sweat to death and dry up like a mummy.
SAM:
I’ll have light all day.
MICHAEL:
When are you ever going to be in it long enough during the daylight hours to
enjoy it?
SAM:
On my days off?
Both laugh uproariously.
MICHAEL:
Where did you put the other bottles?
SAM:
They’re in my room.
MICHAEL:
Any of it whiskey?
SAM:
As if you care. (SAM exits to the sleeping box area.)
MICHAEL crouches down and looks through the records, trying to pick one. IOVANNA
enters through the downstage door, not seeing MICHAEL, and lies down on the divan.
53
MICHAEL:
(standing and noticing her) Hey, you came back.
IO:
I got booted out of my room. It seems I was the less interesting sleeping
companion.
MICHAEL:
I’m sure that’s not true.
IO:
Anyway, Liz thought so.
MICHAEL:
Ahh. That’s a shame.
IO:
Hey, it’s her choice. (Jingling her keys.) I just hope he has a car, otherwise it’s
going to be a long walk home. What’s going on out here?
MICHAEL:
Jack and Davy got home earlier, so we’re just hosting a campfire soirée.
Everybody’s out by the fire. We dropped about twenty hotdogs in the ashes, but
there’s still some booze left.
IO:
Who’s chaperoning?
MICHAEL:
Masselink left the fire-pit around eleven – he may have gone up to the main ship.
Wes and your sister went to bed awhile ago. I think you’re safe to imbibe.
IO:
What is there?
MICHAEL:
I’ve got a little rum left you can have. Sam is getting more. Here, I don’t even like
it. (Handing her the bottle.)
IO:
You don’t like rum?
MICHAEL:
Sissy and sugary. It’s one of those Texas hang-ups.
IO:
(drinking) Mmm. I still crave sugar. Damn ration books. I don’t know that I’ll
ever get enough again.
MICHAEL:
(sitting down on the divan) Take it slow.
IO:
What do you like?
MICHAEL:
Beer. But whiskey’s quicker.
IO:
Whiskey has sugar!
54
MICHAEL:
I know, but I don’t taste it as much.
SAM enters from the sleeping boxes with a box.
SAM:
Don’t you two look cozy.
IO:
Michael’s just sharing.
SAM:
I see.
IO:
You have more?
SAM:
I am in possession of particular potables.
IO:
Such as?
MICHAEL:
Do tell, young squire.
SAM:
A not inconsiderable amount of rum which must make its way to the shindig
posthaste or there will be an insurrection, and one diminutive dram of the
aforementioned whiskey. (Hands MICHAEL the whiskey.)
MICHAEL:
Hey, pour Io some rum in a glass before you go. She shouldn’t mix.
SAM:
Yes, my liege. (SAM finds a glass and pours for IOVANNA.) How’s tricks in
town?
IO:
Nothing much to speak of. A bunch of boys looking for someone who looks just
like that girl next door, who’s willing to do what girls-next-door never do.
SAM:
Here you go. Michael’s right – novices should always stick to just one flavor.
(Teasing her with the glass, pulling it away, and finally handing it to her. He exits
upstage.)
MICHAEL:
What was that about?
IO:
He’s an ass.
MICHAEL:
Is that code for “none of my business”?
IOVANNA drinks. Pause. They sit for a moment staring at one another. Doris Day’s No
Moon At All drops next onto the record player.
IO:
I’m glad I came back.
55
MICHAEL:
So am I.
IO:
It’s quieter out here. Away from the world.
MICHAEL:
Mmm. (Pause.) Sorry, is this type of music a little lowbrow for you?
IO:
No. I like it. My parents would protest vociferously! (Laughing.)
MICHAEL:
They want you to become a harpist.
IO:
I suspect they’d prefer I train on the cello, but I can’t get the hang of it. Svetlana’s
the real musician.
MICHAEL:
I like the cello, where it hits you. You feel cello music here. (Touching her
sternum, then catching himself.) I don’t mean your heart.
IO:
I know.
MICHAEL:
Your bones. You feel it reverberate in your bones. Like truth. It’s how I feel about
your father’s buildings. It’s truth.
IO:
He knows how he affects people. It affects him, too – I know it sounds outlandish,
but you can almost see his body vibrate. He knows how everything should be
without thinking about it. It resonates in him when the wall is the correct angle.
When a shelf is the right width for the pottery. To frame the ideal view of a
mountain in the window makes his bones sing.
MICHAEL:
Clients sense that on a minor scale, but the apprentices are…are witness to it, and
it awakens in them possibilities they never dreamt of. (Pause.) You know, I was
sitting by the fire tonight with everyone, and it got me thinking about our
conversation the other day.
IO:
About the orphans? It’s true. Look around you. Untethered boys and girls in the
desert.
MICHAEL:
Maybe. But really, I was thinking about the other part. About searching.
IO:
Not that again. I told you, I don’t mean it in a bad way.
MICHAEL:
No, I understood. Searching is positive. Finding your path, seeking a new way.
IO:
Exactly.
56
MICHAEL:
It’s the truly lost who cling to familiarity, right? That’s what’s dangerous?
IO:
Absolutely deadly.
MICHAEL:
How so?
IO:
Are you kidding? It’s soul-killing! How can you progress? Even those fly-boys at
the hotel tonight. In one way it’s so sad, they went off to war and put themselves
in harm’s way. A bit of it was brainwashing, of course. I talked to one boy from
Missouri by the pool who didn’t even seem to know why he had gone. “The damn
Japs. Treacherous. Pearl Harbor.” It was reactionary. And he might have died.
Lots of them did. But, to my way of thinking – is that any worse than any of them
living in one little town their whole lives? Marrying his childhood sweetheart, and
never knowing anyone other than his mom, his dad, and the men at his lodge?
MICHAEL:
You’re saying being dead in your soul is worse than actual death?
IO:
Yes. The caged mind, parroting the recruitment posters and the newsreels. All of
it.
MICHAEL:
What if you’re happy?
IO:
You only think you are.
MICHAEL:
You’re still dead.
IO:
Yes.
MICHAEL:
And who gets to decide that? That there’s no value in simplicity?
IO:
You don’t agree? What I’m really saying is that in order to advance as a society
we have to evolve. To deny new ideas is to ignore our very nature.
MICHAEL:
You sound like your father.
IO:
He’s right, though.
MICHAEL:
Only the weak cling to familiarity.
IO:
Yes.
Pause.
MICHAEL:
Iovanna, what are you still doing here?
57
IO:
I….
MICHAEL:
Are you content? If you’re happy here, it’s one thing. Otherwise –
IO:
Yes, I’m happy!
MICHAEL:
Really?
IO:
You’re trying to trap me, but it isn’t the same!
MICHAEL:
How? How is it any different? Because your father is famous? Because his
designs bring the world to his doorstep?
IO:
But they do. The world comes to us.
MICHAEL:
A selective segment of the world.
IO:
And I’d be better off among real people? Tell me, Michael, are there a lot of
innovative thinkers in West Texas?
MICHAEL:
Iovanna….
IO:
You chose us, remember?
MICHAEL:
Iovanna, stop! Look, I’m not saying the soil here isn’t rich. Artists, writers,
composers, what have you. I just get the feeling…you are taking on the look of a
cultivated flower.
IO:
(losing steam, she slides off the divan to the floor) That’s a terrible thing to call
someone. (She drinks.)
MICHAEL:
Wait a minute. (Moving onto the floor next to her. He takes her glass and puts it
down. He takes her hand.) I think we are getting to point where we’re friends.
IO:
I have enough friends. Anyway, I don’t want to be just your friend. (She tries to
kiss him.)
MICHAEL:
(fending her off, delicately) Now, listen. Maybe someday we’ll be more, but as a
friend I need to tell you this. Sooner or later you are going to have to trust
someone.
IO:
I trust you. (She tries to kiss him again.)
58
MICHAEL:
(allowing the kiss, briefly, then stops it) Hang on. This is important and you’re
avoiding it.
IO:
(sigh) I trust people.
MICHAEL:
Who?
IO:
I trust those who prove themselves trustworthy. I trust people here.
MICHAEL:
God, that’s worse! Who around here deserves to be trusted? You call these people
your friends, but they’re using you. Any one of them would sell you out to get
higher on the totem with your family. You don’t even know how to spot
authenticity anymore! The one person who wants what’s best for you is telling
you that you have to get out of this piranha tank. Don’t think about them, and
don’t worry about what your parents want for you. Don’t you want out?
IO:
Someday.
MICHAEL sighs.
IO:
I do want out someday. I want to travel. I want to live in a city and study music.
Okay?
MICHAEL:
As long as the flame hasn’t died. It has to be enough for now.
They kiss.
IO:
Will you play me some Debussy in the studio?
MICHAEL:
Will you admit that spending the evening with me rates better than a bathtub?
IO:
We’ll see.
They exit downstage. Scene change: Yours by Vera Lynn. Lights down.
59
Act Two, scene 3
The morning the Wrights are to return. There is considerable activity around the Cottage.
MICHAEL and KAY are cleaning up when GENE enters from the downstage area.
GENE:
They are going to know. It looks like a three-week party around here.
KAY:
It was a three-week party.
GENE:
That smell is never going to come out of that piano.
MICHAEL:
I swear, I worked on it. I tried my best.
KAY:
What happened?
GENE:
Someone threw up in the piano.
KAY:
(laughing) They what?
GENE:
One night someone vomited in the piano, closed the lid, and went on their merry
way.
KAY:
Seriously?
GENE:
We’re lucky we caught it in time. It didn’t warp.
MICHAEL:
Speaking as the person who cleaned it, I didn’t feel particularly lucky.
KAY:
I suppose disinfectant wash would ruin it. What did you try?
MICHAEL:
I tried everything. Now we are just leaving it open to air out.
GENE:
Where’s Wes?
KAY:
He took a crew to work on the back corner of the kitchen.
GENE:
Where are Svetlana and the boys?
KAY:
They drove the jeep to town to pick up groceries.
GENE:
Alright. At least the house is clean.
60
KAY:
You and I will have to do our best to keep them wrapped up this afternoon. That
way they won’t go wandering around. It’ll give the apprentices a bit more time.
GENE:
Fine. I’ll help Mr. Wright unpack. He sent a telegram saying he has two new
carpets. Moving furniture and placing those will keep him out from underfoot for
the rest of the afternoon.
KAY:
I’ll round up Davy and Jack, and they can tell prison stories. Funny ones.
GENE:
If he wants to go to the studio, I’m not going to try to stop him.
KAY:
Okay, Gene. Everyone knows you won’t be “complicit”. If the gang gets busted
they’ll swear you knew nothing. Right, Michael?
MICHAEL:
We’ll say we gagged you and conked you on the head. You were out for 21 days.
GENE:
Ha-ha.
KAY:
Did you get those receipts I put on the lacquered desk?
GENE:
No. Receipts for what?
KAY:
I put them there two days ago. Three of them.
GENE:
There wasn’t anything on it this morning.
KAY:
Fine. I’ll find them. (She moves to leave.)
GENE:
I’m telling you, there’s nothing on that desk.
KAY and GENE exit downstage. IOVANNA appears at the upstage entrance.
IO:
Are they gone?
MICHAEL:
Yes, they’re gone, you little sneak.
IO:
I heard Gene talking about the piano and thought I’d better steer clear.
MICHAEL and IOVANNA kiss.
MICHAEL:
You’re just fortunate that I even want to kiss you.
IO:
(grinning) Don’t I know it.
61
MICHAEL:
If your father smells secondhand rum in his studio he’s going to take it out on
someone. Or on everyone.
IO:
I know.
MICHAEL:
Once they get back, things are going to be different.
IO:
That’s the sad part. Things will revert to being exactly the same.
MICHAEL:
I meant, between us.
IO:
Oh. Yes, I guess that’s true.
MICHAEL:
Unless….
IO:
What?
MICHAEL:
Unless you are ready.
IO:
Ready to leave?
MICHAEL:
Yes.
IO:
No. I can’t. Look, Michael, you’re right. I’m ready, but they aren’t. The
fellowship is barely holding on. Most families haven’t been able to pay the tuition
for the duration, Jack and Davy just got back. Commissions are thin on the
ground because materials are still scarce….Mother and Daddy need me.
MICHAEL:
I think you need to play the part for them. “Dutiful daughter” isn’t your style.
Svetlana’s cornered the market. You won’t fool anyone for very much longer.
IO:
They don’t need me to play the traitor, either.
MICHAEL:
Growing up and leaving doesn’t make you a traitor.
IO:
And staying doesn’t make me a conformist sheep.
MICHAEL:
I don’t know that staying will make you into anything at all.
Silence.
IO:
Are you leaving? (Pause.) Are you thinking about it?
62
MICHAEL:
Thinking about it? Yes. After Graf was kicked out I started to see the chinks in
the armor.
IO:
Graf wasn’t cut out for Taliesin. Everybody knew it. Even he did. Nobody could
believe he lasted as long as he did.
MICHAEL:
I see the good in this place. Wes would call it the “magic”. And you’re here.
IO:
Don’t stay because of me.
MICHAEL:
I’m not.
IO:
Really and truly. You have to stay because you’re chasing the stars.
MICHAEL:
I can see the stars in you.
IO:
Don’t do that.
MICHAEL:
What if I’m staying to save you?
IO:
I grew up here. You think you know more about this place than I do?
MICHAEL:
Maybe not. But sometimes I feel like I know more about who you are than you
do.
DAVY bursts in from upstage.
DAVY:
You guys seen Peters?
IO:
No.
MICHAEL:
He was working on the kitchen roof an hour ago.
DAVY:
Iovanna, you better come with me.
IO:
Where? What is it?
DAVY:
Help me find Wes, honey. C’mon.
IOVANNA moves toward the upstage door. Once DAVY steers her out, he comes back in
a step or two.
DAVY:
Michael, go find Gene Masselink. The jeep rolled over into a creek-bed. I’ve got
to go tell Wes that Svetlana and one of his sons have been killed.
63
Blackout.
64
Act Two, scene 4
Early morning. Lights up on WES, who is standing, staring at the posted worklist. JACK enters
from downstage with two mugs.
JACK:
Wes?
WES:
(not moving) Hmm?
JACK:
You want coffee?
WES:
Coffee?
JACK:
Yeah. I just made some, fresh.
WES:
(not moving) Yeah.
JACK:
(approaching him, and handing off the mug) Here.
WES:
(accepting the mug, but still staring at the worklist) Thanks.
JACK:
That’s hot.
WES:
Okay.
JACK:
(crossing to sit) Anything new?
WES:
New?
JACK:
On the list. New list?
WES:
No, I don’t think so.
JACK:
Good.
WES:
I can’t tell. There’s no artwork, so it’s hard to tell if the list is different.
JACK:
Oh.
WES:
(finally leaving the list) To tell you the truth, I’ve been staring at that thing for a
good while and I’m not sure I read it at all.
JACK:
Doesn’t matter. Drink your coffee.
65
WES:
What are you working on today?
JACK:
What else? Guggenheim.
WES:
Did we even get the green-light yet?
JACK:
Not yet, but it’s a fun idea to play with. What else is there to do?
WES:
(a small smirk) I don’t know…you could put the top three feet on the patio wall.
JACK:
(smiling) If I did that, then what the hell would they need you for, Superman?
WES:
Yeah. What would they need me for?
JACK:
Wes. I was kidding. God, man, I was kidding.
WES:
It’s okay.
JACK:
Ah, shit, Wes. Really. I’m really sorry.
WES:
It’s okay.
JACK:
Is that what’s got you twisted? You think they don’t need you now?
WES:
The thought has occurred to me.
JACK:
Well, you’re wrong.
WES:
She’s gone. I’m a reminder.
JACK:
But you’re a reminder of the best times, too.
WES:
Mrs. Wright can’t even look at me. Iovanna’s avoiding me.
JACK:
Mrs. Wright can’t see anyone right now. It’s just going to take some time.
WES:
You want to know the worst of it, Jack? They do need me. Everybody here needs
me. Superman, right? You want to know my secret identity? I am Taliesin. I am
Taliesin.
JACK:
We all feel that way about you, Wes.
66
WES:
No. You’re not hearing me. I own Taliesin. I own the fellowship. I own the land,
the school, the houses. Wisconsin and Arizona. (Hallow laugh.) I put up the
money when the tax man came a’callin’ to dissolve the corporation.
JACK:
Holy shit.
WES:
I did it because I wanted to. Not for Svet – not because it was her home or their
home. Because it was my home. And my fear isn’t that they don’t need me here,
my fear is that they don’t want me here.
JACK:
You have to stay. I don’t know if you’re right or not, about being wanted. I really
don’t. But you have to stay. Wes, listen, whether or not anyone ever speaks the
words, you are the heir to the throne. One day, he’s….You are the next in line.
You and I both understand the work, but let’s face facts, it’s never going to be me.
It has to be you. Until then, you just have to ride out the storms.
WES nods and looks out into the early morning desert.
WES:
Jack, did you ever hear anything about Gene Masselink and my wife?
JACK:
No. No, Wes, I never did.
WES:
Me neither.
JACK:
(pause) Your coffee is cold. Let’s go get you some hot.
They exit downstage, and we see IOVANNA, with suitcases, come in from the sleeping boxes and
exit through the upstage door. Scene change: Far Away Places – Bing Crosby. Lights down.
67
Act Two, scene 5
Very early morning. Before the lights come up, we hear scuffling and whispers. Flashlight beams
rake the set. Then there’s a knock. We hear voices from down the hallway.
KAY:
(from offstage) Michael?
MICHAEL:
(off) What?
KAY:
(off) Davy wants you.
MICHAEL:
(off) For what?
KAY:
(off) There’s something wrong with the generator. We can’t get powered up for
the morning.
MICHAEL:
(off) Okay, let me grab my boots.
KAY:
(off) Hurry, Mr. Wright wants his oatmeal and the kitchen has no power flow.
MICHAEL:
(off) What time is it? It isn’t even light yet.
KAY:
(entering the darkened main room with her own flashlight) I know. (She hides
and all turn off their lights.)
MICHAEL:
(off, bumping into something in the hallway) Crap! Kay, I don’t have a light.
(Entering the main room.) Kay?
Lights up.
ALL:
Surprise!
MICHAEL stands at the entrance to the sleeping boxes in his boxers and his boots. KAY,
DAVY, WES, JACK, GENE, and SAM are in various states of dress, and are all wearing
stupid hats. They begin singing For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow, which should end “and so
say all of us”.
KAY:
You told Sam you’d never had a surprise birthday party.
WES crosses to MICHAEL to put his own hat on MICHAEL’S head.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, well, Sam’s an ass. It’s not my birthday.
68
ALL:
Surprise!
MICHAEL:
Ha-ha.
DAVY:
I think the hat really adds something.
GENE:
I’ll go get your robe. We don’t need any more surprises this morning. (He heads
down the hallway.)
KAY:
(pulling MICHAEL to the divan) Come here! We have a birthday box for you.
Everyone put something in.
MICHAEL:
A birthday box?
DAVY:
Just like the liebermeister’s.
WES:
Everybody deserves one at least once.
SAM:
Just like the real ones, except this one’s full of crap.
MICHAEL:
Ahh, a subtle, but important, nuance.
SAM:
Indeed.
GENE returns with MICHAEL’S robe and helps him put it on.
KAY:
Sit!
MICHAEL sits down to open the box.
MICHAEL:
(looking at the beautifully decorated outside of the box) Thanks, Gene. That’s
really nicely done.
GENE just smiles.
MICHAEL:
It must have taken forever.
KAY:
It did not. It took him all of two hours.
MICHAEL:
You’re kidding? It’s beautiful. It’s so detailed –
SAM:
Yeah, yeah, it’s a friggin’ masterpiece. Open it!
69
MICHAEL:
Right. (He lifts the lid off the box, and begins lifting objects out. The first is a
small paper bag. He reaches in.) It’s a lock.
SAM:
Finest kind.
DAVY:
It’s for your beer.
MICHAEL:
Oh. I’ve needed one of those on my footlocker for about six years.
ALL laugh.
MICHAEL:
(looking in the bag) Where’s the key?
ALL:
Surprise! (ALL except MICHAEL hold out keys on strings dangling around their
necks.)
MICHAEL:
Ahh, okay! (He keeps digging.) A condom.
SAM:
That’s from me. One’s all you’ll ever need around here.
DAVY:
(laughing) Rinse and reuse.
MICHAEL:
‘Kay. What else? (Pulling out a set of tongs.)
JACK:
For the next time you drop your hotdog in the fire.
MICHAEL:
I’ll keep them handy. (Removes a tube of medicine.) Ointment?
KAY:
For the next time you drop your hotdog in the fire.
SAM:
Hey! That’s what the condom is for!
KAY/WES:
Shut up, Sam!
MICHAEL:
(taking out a carefully wrapped box) Is it going to bite me?
DAVY:
Careful. (A moment of suspense, and then DAVY jumps at him, grabbing
MICHAEL’S arm and yelling.) Ahh!
MICHAEL:
Cut it out. (Finally opening the small hinged box. Pause.) It’s a pen.
SAM:
What does it do?
MICHAEL:
A really nice one. (Looking around.)
70
WES:
It’s from me.
MICHAEL:
Oh.
KAY:
What does it do, Wes?
WES:
(with a half-smile) He can find out.
MICHAEL:
Oh, no. I’m not messing with this thing.
SAM:
It’s going to squirt ink. I’ve seen those. You’re writing along fine, getting
confident, really focused and then it pours ink everywhere. Right?
WES:
You’ll have to ask Michael. Maybe in a couple of days.
KAY:
Okay, everybody. We didn’t have time for a cake, but I’ve got a box of fudge and
everyone can have a piece. Save the biggest one for Michael, you pigs. (She
hands around the tin.) Were you surprised?
MICHAEL:
Completely. It was great, ya’ll. Thanks again.
Most of the group moves off to the side. JACK crosses to MICHAEL and picks up the
birthday box off the divan. He removes the pen and looks more closely at it.
MICHAEL:
(laughing) Those are some really nice tongs, Jack. Quality hardware.
JACK:
Well, I thought about getting you a bouquet of hammer handles, since you go
through them faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.
SAM:
Maybe next year!
JACK:
(stealing a glance at MICHAEL as he hands him back his new pen) Yeah. Next
year.
GENE:
Alright. Everyone should get back to bed before things get out of hand.
SAM:
You mean, in case we might have fun for more than eleven minutes, Gene? God
forbid!
GENE:
Fine. I’m going to the studio. (He exits downstage.)
DAVY:
We’ll promise to keep it down, warden.
71
JACK:
Hey, Davison. Let’s keep the blissful memories in low gear, huh?
DAVY:
(grinning) Too true.
WES:
He’s right. If anyone’s late in the morning, there’ll be hell to pay.
KAY:
We know, Wes. Relax.
SAM:
I’m taking the phonograph outside. (Catching a look from WES.) We’ll keep it
really low. It’ll be on the far side of the ‘Trap. Nobody will hear it over here.
DAVY, KAY, and SAM move the party through the upstage door to the patio.
WES:
I’m going to go read, go back to sleep if I can. Jack, can you keep a lid on them?
JACK:
Sure, Wes. I’ll shut it down if it gets too wild. Get some shut-eye.
WES:
Thanks. (He exits down the hall.)
JACK:
When is your birthday, kid? I don’t even know.
MICHAEL:
Actually, it’s on Christmas.
JACK:
No kidding?
MICHAEL:
Yeah. I’ve met other Christmas babies. It’s either a lousy time to have a birthday
or the only time to have one, depending on who you talk to.
JACK:
Triple the gifts or everyone forgets, huh?
MICHAEL:
Something like that.
JACK:
Which were you?
MICHAEL:
I never got shorted, but my mom was the one who really made it special. Now
that she’s gone, it doesn’t seem to matter. This was nice of everyone, though.
JACK:
Every once in a while we step up.
MICHAEL:
Yep.
Pause.
JACK:
You packing up?
72
MICHAEL:
Yeah, I’ll get this stuff out of the way. (Pause.) How did you know?
JACK:
I’m not sure. The look on your face a couple of times tonight.
MICHAEL:
I had a look?
JACK:
Yeah, it made me wish I’d played poker with you more over the years. You
looked…guilty? Maybe? Like you felt flattered, but bad. Like a kid being given a
special treat for dessert, but who knows damn well he sneaked two cookies before
dinner.
MICHAEL:
Probably.
JACK:
You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing wrong with deciding it’s time.
MICHAEL:
Guess not.
JACK:
And after Iovanna left for her little expedition, nobody expected you to hang out
much longer. To an extent, you’ve already defied expectations. Are you going to
go looking for her?
MICHAEL:
For Iovanna?
JACK:
Yes.
MICHAEL:
I don’t need to go looking for her. I know where she is. But, no, I’m not.
JACK:
Good. She’s just going to end up back here anyway.
MICHAEL:
Do you really think so?
JACK:
It wasn’t that kind of escape.
MICHAEL:
You know, I sometimes forget that you are one of the few who left and then
decided to come back, Jack.
JACK:
In a manner of speaking.
MICHAEL:
JACK:
Were you expecting it to be different the second time?
At core, it never changes. When you come back you’re the same and it’s the
same. The carousel keeps going around. You just get back on at a different point.
MICHAEL:
I know why you left, why you had to, but I never really got….
73
JACK:
It doesn’t matter why I came back.
MICHAEL:
Yes, it does! You were promised so many things over the years. Land,
percentages on commissions. Don’t you want to have something? At the end of
the day?
JACK is silent.
MICHAEL:
I didn’t mean to pry.
JACK:
Where are you going to settle?
MICHAEL:
I don’t know. An architect can start a firm anywhere, so it will be a process of
elimination. All I can say for sure is that home isn’t here.
JACK:
Kid, there’s no shame in leaving…with clean hands.
MICHAEL:
Yeah.
JACK:
Unless you’ve done something you feel guilty about.
MICHAEL looks at him closely.
JACK:
Right?
MICHAEL:
How’d you know?
JACK:
C’mon, Michael. I keep my ear to the ground. Most of us, if we’re smart,
maintain a client network.
MICHAEL:
I only did two.
JACK levels a gaze at him.
MICHAEL:
Four. Does Mr. Wright know?
JACK:
I’m not sure. He’s hard to read on things like this. Sometimes, if he likes
someone, he’ll pretend he doesn’t know. If that’s the case, you can never slip up
around here.
MICHAEL:
I’ve learned a lot here, I really have.
JACK:
And you’re using it to moonlight out there. You used your own name, kid.
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MICHAEL:
How else does an architect build a reputation?
JACK:
That’s the catch. You get to put your name on your designs, but sooner or later
people start to find out. Which is what you wanted, right?
MICHAEL:
I’m getting more commissions.
JACK:
Then it’s time to go. I hear that they don’t look like Wright copies. They
reference him. Us. But they’re unique.
MICHAEL:
I didn’t want it to seem as though I was….you know.
JACK:
You’ve always had your own ideas. You took only what you needed.
MICHAEL:
He’s going to see it as a betrayal.
JACK:
Who cares? Honestly, Michael. Who gives a damn? You didn’t have that look on
your face tonight because you’re worried you disappointed Frank Lloyd Wright.
MICHAEL:
I know.
JACK:
He never told you, but he liked what you did to the room.
MICHAEL:
What are you talking about?
JACK:
That first day when they all got here and you had accidentally moved into their
room – his and Svet’s – and redesigned it? He talked it up. Quite a bit.
MICHAEL:
No, I never knew that.
KAY, DAVY, and SAM run in. KAY is yelping, the guys are guffawing.
KAY:
Michael! Give us the lock!
MICHAEL:
What?
SAM:
(jiggling his string necklace with the key on it) The lock!
MICHAEL:
What for?
SAM:
Gene’s in the kitchen sneaking the last of the grapefruit.
KAY:
(gleefully) We’re going to trap him until we can gather up a posse.
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JACK:
Not nice.
MICHAEL:
(handing them the lock) Here.
They run off downstage. JACK smiles and shakes his head.
JACK:
(looking toward downstage door) You want to know? Why I came back?
MICHAEL:
(laughing) Surely not for that.
JACK:
No. I mean yes, and no. For that, a little. For the work, of course. But for them.
For each other. (He heads toward the downstage door.)
MICHAEL:
Schubert’s version of courage. “If there be no gods on earth – we’ll be gods
together.”
JACK:
(smiling) I gotta go rescue Gene. (Stops.) It was Wes’ father’s by the way. The
fountain pen.
MICHAEL:
I should probably leave it here.
JACK:
Don’t. He’d want you to have something. At the end of the day.
JACK exits. MICHAEL stands with the birthday box under his arm and the pen in his hand as
the lights go down.
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