I’d like to begin by asking you to talk about your choice of title. It sounds as if you intended to have the word “call” operate on more than one level.
 
Every adoptive parent waits anxiously for the call letting them know that they have been matched with a child. So, on the most basic level, that is what “the call” refers to. The other call in the play is the “deeper calling” or the “call to courage.”
 
Was there any specific experience that was a catalyst for the play?
 
A friend of mine went through severe postpartum depression. I wondered if the whole thing was entirely hormonal – or was there a psychological component too? And, if so, you don’t have to have given birth to experience it.
 
You’ve said that you didn’t want to write this play and that it is very personal and close to you. When writing a play whose situations overlap your own experiences to some degree, do you worry about the play being perceived as autobiographical?
 
Most of my plays deal with issues or topics that I either (a) think will make a terrible play or (b) am afraid to write because they feel too personal. Usually, both. In all cases, I never end up writing autobiography because fiction is so much more dramatically compelling than my real life – and after living my life once, I don’t feel the need to re-live it in story. But, there is often a seed of personal experience in what I write about. I wrote The Call after adopting two children. People almost always think my plays are MUCH more autobiographical than they are. This used to frustrate me because I couldn’t actually get credit for the storytelling. But, now, I just take it as a compliment.
 
Things have and are changing very rapidly in regards to some of the subjects that your play engages. Do you feel as if it will retain its power and relevance in five or ten years?
 
More than anything, the play is about a couple at a crossroad. When writing, I’m not concerned with the story’s contemporary details. What interests me are relationships and the ways in which we navigate “being with each other” over time.
 
You’ve spoken about how this play is different from your previous plays, in which you have written about “the African-American experience through history” while The Call is a “contemporary play.” Do you think you will write more “contemporary” plays?
 
My most recent play, Bright Half Life, is also contemporary. It’s very different than The Call. It’s a two-hander and structurally non-linear. It’s my most intimate play. I try not to repeat myself too much when writing. I don’t want to write the same story over and over. I try to challenge myself by finding new ways to explore resonant material.
 
You have spoken about the writing of this play breaking a block you were experiencing.
 
I tend to go through periods of writer’s block as I’m figuring out what’s next. Sometimes the block is quite brief and sometimes longer. Certainly, after becoming a parent, I had to reinvent myself as a writer. On a very practical level, I had very little time to write. I wrote The Call between 4am and 6am (before the kids woke up and before I went to my day job). I also found myself drawn to different themes: marriage, parenthood, midlife, etc.
 
A play like this will resonate very personally with many in the audience. Have there been any responses you have received from audience members that have been particularly meaningful to or memorable for you?
 
All responses are meaningful to me. I have been particularly struck by the high school teenage groups that saw the play. The fact that they found it moving and engaging meant a lot to me.
 
Do you ever have an impulse to revise a finished, even published, script after you have seen other productions of it?
 
Barfield: Yes, I always want to revise my plays after they are produced or published. Theatre is a living, breathing thing. It never feels done to me. So, in some ways, I don’t enjoy seeing my work after it opens because I always find things I want to rewrite. I change the script all through previews. With the NYC production, we had a very long preview period and I brought in new pages every day. The actors had to learn new lines in the afternoon and perform them that evening. So, audiences that saw the play during early previews saw a different play than those that saw it after opening.
 
How has parenthood changed you as a writer, as an artist?
 
I think I’m a better writer post-parenthood. The breadth of my life experience has grown, life has more intrinsic value to me, I’m less “me” focused. As a parent, life is joyful and painful in a very different way.
 
You describe one of the play’s concerns (“doubt surrounding motherhood”) as a taboo subject. Could you talk a little about the importance, in theatre in particular, of engaging difficult or taboo material?
 
I tend to think of the best plays as inherently boundary-pushing and confessional in nature. Even comedies. That’s why so many farces are about infidelity or secrets. We go to theatre not to see everyday as it is. We go for two hours or so to see very high moments or very low moments (the most pivotal moments) of a character’s entire life. If we’re not seeing something that’s on the edge of our comfort zone, we’re usually bored. At least, I am. I’m not saying that I like shock-value plays for shock’s sake. I mean that I like stories in which characters are trying to balance on a precipice – any minute they could fall.


Interview reprinted from DC Theatre Scene, 2015.

What was the impetus to write BLACKBERRY WINTER?
 
The play was commissioned. Out of Hand Theater in Atlanta, GA approached me about developing a new work addressing Alzheimer's disease. Honestly, I instantly felt intimidated by the subject matter.  Also there are so many wonderful plays that already explore the topic.  But they told me I could attack it from any angle and examining the role of the caregiver immediately appealed to me. Carolyn Cook, a wonderful local actress who was on this journey with her own mother, also wanted to participate. So I jumped in. 
 
Has the play dramatically changed since the first draft?
 
The script has been slowly, gently refined across the first several productions. That's the benefit of a National New Play Network rolling world premiere. I knew from jump last season that I had seven productions locked in, so I could afford to try things along the way. But ultimately Blackberry Winter has maintained it's basic structure and tone. The first workshop we did though, before the script was out in the world? That ran well over two hours because I tried to include everything and the kitchen sink. It was just too much. But when the play focused in on this one woman and her very specific experiences, it really came to life.
 
What’s your writing process like? 
 
I'm not a particularly disciplined writer. But when I do write it tends to be in large, manic swaths. And I usually need music of some kind. The type varies depending on the project, but there's always music. It actively works against the clutter in my head.
 
How do you think BLACKBERRY WINTER has resonated with audiences so far? Any interesting feedback or an anecdote you’d be willing to share?
 
Two things. Audiences come in expecting something bleak and then really connect with and respond to the shared experiences, humor, and resilience of hope in the face of something so hopeless. And audiences want to talk afterwards. They are desperate to talk, to share their own stories. So many people are navigating caregiving for a loved one (or have) and they can often feel alone.  Suddenly, they realize they're not the only ones who have these thoughts, these fears. It's remarkable.

Karen Zacarías’ award-winning plays include Destiny of Desire, The Book Club Play, Legacy of Light, Mariela in the Desert, The Sins of Sor Juana, the adaptations of Just Like Us and How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accent plus many more. She collaborated on the libretto for Sleepy Hollow and Hemingway: The Sun Also Rises for the Washington Ballet. She is one of the inaugural resident playwrights at Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., and is a core founder of the Latino Theatre Commons. Learn more at www.karenzacarias.com.

Why are you a playwright?

A play is live literature; a written medium that depends on people being alive and together in a room.  And since I am a writer and an extrovert…playwriting affords me the opportunity to begin a world with words, and then actively build that world with artists and an audience.

What type of theatre most excites you?

I really am open to lots of types of theater: Very theatrical, abstract, kitchen sink, dramas, comedies, musicals…as long as there is something truthful and moving and surprising in the storytelling.  I always appreciate a well-constructed play; I also love messy inspired, hard to define plays even more.

What starts a play moving in your imagination?

Sometimes it’s an image from a scene that I see in my mind.  Sometimes it’s the feeling I want to create in the audience.  I am always aware of the audience when I write; the point of all my stories is to create a response from the people that see it.

Do you have a favorite writing place?

I write a lot at my kitchen table, my computer surrounded by breakfast bowls and coffee mugs.  I also write a lot a Tryst Coffee Shop…also with my computer surrounded by coffee mugs and plates.

What female playwrights have influenced your writing and how?

Locally, I am inspired by the works of Jennifer Nelson, Caleen Sinette Jennings, Ally Currin, Audrey Cefaly, Heather McDonald, D.Wiskeyman, Renee Calarco, Laura Zam and many others.   Other powerful influences have been Maria Ines Fornes, Caryl Churchill, Sarah Ruhl, Lisa Loomer, Lisa Kron, Julia Cho,and others.

What’s missing from theatre today?

More faith in our audiences.  And a real active diverse season that will attract diverse audiences.

Answer this: “If I weren’t a playwright, I would be … “

a diplomat, or salsa dancer or a beach bum.

What inspired you to write this play?

The play was actually inspired by a couple of different true stories [about sandwich franchises] that I read in the media. And then I sort of morphed them, and put them through the weird sieve of my twisted brain, and added a life-size sandwich. And then it became a play! It also came from my looking at what’s going on in the economy and what’s going on in the world, and the state of our culture—and wanting to respond.

What is the worst job you’ve ever had?

I’ve had a lot of really bad jobs. I would say the worst one was being a waitress in a Tex-Mex restaurant. Just a lot of greasy Mexican food. I gained like, no kidding, about fifteen pounds because I ate so many nachos all the time. And I also was a terrible waitress. I was always forgetting people’s orders, and then I would have to give them free dessert because their order had gotten messed up. So I had a lot of angry customers and angry management. And on the day that I was supposed to leave anyway—because it was a summer job, I had to go home—they fired me on my last day, just to make a point. Because I was that bad. I was like, “I’m leaving anyway! You don’t have to fire me!” They were like: “In case you thought you would have been allowed to stay on… It’s over.” Yeah. I ate so many nachos. So many nachos.

How did you get started as a playwright?

My start in playwriting actually came when I was getting an MFA in acting at Yale School of Drama. I had all these actor friends, and I wanted to write plays for them. So the first play that I wrote was for five of my classmates in acting school. And we got to do it in this little space where you could put up your own thing, and I was like, “This is kind of cooler than the thing that I’m in school for.” So that was the moment that really opened my eyes. And then I just kind of kept doing it from there, and writing parts for my friends. It’s fun to have an acting background and be a playwright, because I find myself really inspired by actors and by acting. I love watching their process. I feel like a lot of what drives me as a playwright is trying to create roles that are fun for actors and make them a little playground to play in.

What are the ingredients in your favorite sandwich?

I like anything with some melted cheese. I think my favorite sandwich is just a classic grilled cheese. In fact, grilled cheese is my biggest skill, to quote Sheri from the play. I put the butter on the bread, and then cheese in between. I use a multi-grain bread, and then I use a sharp cheddar. And then the butter’s on the outside. And then I perfectly calibrate the heat so it gets really gooey on the inside, while at the same time it’s really salty and crunchy on the outside. (It has to be a salted butter.) And it’s amazing. I can’t even make it for people because its power is so intense that it’s not fair. If I make it for anyone, they’re just under my spell. So I use that power very, very, very carefully.

Originally printed in Second Stage Theatre's blog June 2014.

Reprinted from The Big Story. Written by MARK KENNEDY 
Feb. 4, 2016 3:30 PM EST

NEW YORK (AP) — Lauren Gunderson is such a rare theatrical talent, you might be tempted to approach her very quietly, so as not to frighten her away.

"Indeed. Be careful. I might disappear," she says, conspiratorially.

Gunderson is a young female playwright, which is special enough. She's also prolific and has produced across the country. Plus, she loves writing complex characters for women. Can she really exist?

"I think I do. But this might be 'The Matrix,' so you never know."

The San Francisco-based playwright, who recently won a Dramatist Guild of America award, is lately enjoying a wave of interest, with her plays being produced in New York, Cincinnati and Denver this month alone.

"I love stories that move, where there's energy and wit and a little romance," she says in the lobby of 5959 Theaters, where her two-character "I & You" is playing. "I write plays I want to see."

Born in Atlanta, this one-time actress turned to writing after being frustrated by the lack of good female roles. At 15, she penned her first play, "Parts They Call Deep," about three women in a Winnebago.

Later, always drawn to discoverers and explorers, she wrote plays about trailblazing but forgotten women in history like Victorian computer visionary Ada Lovelace, Age of Enlightenment physicist Emilie du Chatelet and early 20th-century astronomer Henrietta Swan Leavitt.

Gunderson, 33, said she looks for the inherent drama in key moments in history, what she calls "moments of decision." It could be when two people meet or a sudden realization.

"In a lot of my plays, what makes science so great for theater is it's about these moments of great change, great discovery. And that's true in 'Oedipus Rex' and 'Hamlet' — these moments when you know something you can't unknow."

Gunderson's output is so well received that she landed in the top 10 of American Theatre magazine's most produced playwrights this season with 13 shows, three more than Eugene O'Neill.

She writes at a time when very few new produced plays are written by women. Statistics released last year by the Dramatists Guild of America and the Lilly Awards found that only 22 percent of some 2,500 contemporary theater productions from 2011-14 were written by women.

"I think it's just a bit of fear and a lot of traditionalism that leads to people making safe choices. I mean, that's what it is, right? It's safe," she said. Changing it is as simple as women producers: "It's actually not that hard. Just do it."
Suzy Evans, senior editor of American Theatre magazine, said she admires Gunderson's ability to create works that have an educational component and also spotlight lost contributions by women.

"In the same way people are so excited about 'Hamilton' on Broadway and how Lin-Manuel Miranda is reclaiming the founding of America for immigrants and for people of color, Lauren is reclaiming history and scientific narratives — that have been mainly the story of men — for young women and for women across the country."
This month, Gunderson's many interests are on show. In New York is "I & You," her play with a twist about two young people wrestling with Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass." At the Cincinnati Playhouse is the world premiere of "The Revolutionists," a play about four women during the French Revolution.

And her next one is "The Book of Will," focusing on Shakespeare's friends who collected his plays and preserved his legacy, which is being fine-tuned at the Colorado New Play Summit.

Gunderson is doing all that while also being a new mom to an 18-month-old son, which is already making her explore ideas about childhood, legacy and mortality — all likely grist for her next plays.

"It's a really interesting time for me — just all the living that one does in between writing," she said, laughing. "You definitely have to live to write but writing also reminds you to live."