In 1994 I saw director Stephen Daldry’s critically praised staging of J.B. Priestley’s An Inspector Calls on Broadway with some friends. Our group was split down the middle regarding the very stylized direction, with it’s cast crammed inside a collapsing dollhouse on stilts, and it’s time-period-spanning presentation.
As I recall, I..err..didn’t get it, my boyfriend at the time hated it because he thought it was going to be a musical, and my friends Jonathan (who was enjoying a bourgeoning directing career himself) and Tina loved it.
Lo these many years later Jonathan has been garnering great reviews for his own direction of shows like Tea and Sympathy (”Jonathan Silverstein’s understated direction…deftly explores the rage that emanates from the seeds of sexual repression”–NYT) and The Dining Room (”Directed…with discreet skill by Jonathan Silverstein”–WSJ).
I spoke with Jonathan earlier this week about The Dining Room, his relationship with The Keen Company (where it is currently running) and some of the key elements that make him tick as a director.
Man In Chair: Did you ever imagine that you’d someday be reading in the New York Times that you “maintained the cool emotional pitch” that is in keeping with the spirit of The Dining Room?
Jonathan Silverstein: Never! As you know, I’m a fairly…energetic person, and so usually my shows seem to have a fair amount of energy, and…shall we say…loudness. It’s definitely been an evolution over the last few years where I actually have been going against that personal energy, and have found a much quieter, simpler and more subtle style. It’s been especially through my relationship with the Keen Company that I’ve discovered a more subtle hand with certain plays. That’s not to say I don’t still do highly energetic plays.
MIC: What is it like to see the New York Times reviewing your plays? Is that how you’ve always imagined things going, or is it surprising to see your name in print there?
JS: No, it’s still kind of amazing. The reviews I got for Tea and Sympathy were stellar, and that to me was a wonderful surprise. I’m not saying that it’s still not surprising, or really exciting, but that was like… “Oh, my God!”
MIC: Tea and Sympathy was the first time I started seeing your name in print, really. Was that kind of your “breakout”?
JS: That definitely was. Although I got a good amount of press for the Hasty Heart, which is another show I did with the Keen Company back in 2004. But since they’ve moved Off-Broadway, there’s been so much more press about them. So I would definitely say Tea and Sympathy was the biggest thing I’ve done so far. I’m not gonna call it a “break out” yet, though …
MIC: Well, that’s where people started finding out about you. When you started to become a household name…
JS: Exactly! (laughs)
MIC: Tell me a little bit about your relationship with the Keen Company.
JS: They’ve been around for about eight years It’s run by Carl Forsman, and he really believes in doing optimistic, sincere plays. Several years ago he was working at another company and wanted to do some very heartfelt plays from the mid-20th century, and people said to him “Oh Carl, no one’s interested in seeing that.” And so he said, “Well, I think they are, so I’m going to start this company.”
For the first six years, they were an off-off-Broadway company but were always getting a lot of press, and all of their shows were very well produced. They used to be in the East Village, but now they’ve moved to Theatre Row, where they can do longer runs and increase ticket prices and actually pay the actors health and pension, which is a big deal.
MIC: How did you get involved with them?
JS: I met Carl through doing the Drama League, which is a program for young…or shall we say “emerging” directors. I did a program where you direct a one act at the end of it and Carl saw my work. I was also working with Keen’s lighting designer, Josh Bradford, at The Drama League and got to know the Keen Company through him. I did a very small, very simple, very emotionally engaging piece, called The Dadshuttle.
MIC: Which sounds like its right up their alley.
JS: Yes. It’s by Tom Donaghy, who is a prominent off-Broadway writer—a gay playwright—very much in the style of Mamet; a very spare writer.
MIC: Do you go back to see The Dining Room now that it’s open?
JS: Oh, absolutely. Now that I’m in rehearsals I can only go back once a week, but, yeah, I go back. And my stage manager keeps me informed. But I go back and just check up and see how it’s going.
MIC: You give them notes through the stage manager?
JS: I give them myself. But this stage manager gives me detailed reports every night. Literally scene by scene. This scene went well; this scene didn’t go so well; here’s what’s going on. It’s actually really rare that you get that at this level.
MIC: You’ve assisted both Les Waters and Tina Landau, two pretty amazing directors. What did your learn watching their processes as you were developing your own?
JS: I discovered how different directors deal with problems. I mean that in a good way. How they problem solve. Every director does it differently and you get different things from different people. I would say I’m the closest to…perhaps some sort of mix between Les Waters and Mark Brokaw. Not like Tina Landau at all, but I learned a lot from watching her.
You just discover different bits and pieces and you problem solve along with them, though your solutions don’t always necessarily get heard. I watched a lot. And I would think, “How would I solve that problem?” And it started to make me realize how I was different from all these people. Rather than trying to copy these people, I was realizing how I would do it differently; discovering my own aesthetic.
MIC: You’ve worked on a lot of different scripts— a couple of Ionesco shows, classic American playwrights, musicals like Urinetown. How much does your process as a director change depending on the material you’re working with?
JS: Very little. Obviously every single play is totally different, and, yes, working on a musical is so different…But I would say I always approach things from the very first thing I learned about directing, which is figuring out what the characters want. That to me is the basic building block of figuring out how a play ticks and what the narrative structure of it is. And that to me is important no matter how abstract the material may be. No matter if it’s a musical, or if it’s Shakespeare, a character’s needs are the building blocks of a story.
MIC: Have you done much modernization or reimagining of classic scripts like Charles Mee’s Iphigenia 2.0 and Ivo van Hove’s The Misanthrope?
JS: No. If you look at The Misanthrope, or, say, An Inspector Calls, that to me is what I would call an “auteur” version of directing. Really reimagining a text and putting your own stamp on it. I would say I’m more of an interpretive director, a bit more of an invisible hand. Those who know me can definitely see my style and clarity and all that, but I’m not an auteur. I’m more of an interpreter.
MIC: So you’d rather the reviews didn’t say “Jonathan Silverstein’s production of…”
JS: No, I would love for the reviews to say that! Are you kidding me!? (laughs) But I think my strength is discovering what the play is, and not my own different take on it. I learned two things in grad school that have really stuck with me. My job is not to be clever and to make myself stand out, but to make the play stand out. Of course, I want people to look at that and go “Oh my gosh, Jonathan Silverstein did an amazing job bringing out X, Y, Z in the play.” However, I’m not writing a new play with my direction. I bring out what’s there.
The other thing I learned is that it’s difficult enough to just do a play and do it well, as opposed to adding a whole extra layer on top of it. I’ve now discovered the best thing to do is just strip away and try to make things as clear as possible, as opposed to adding on top of it, which is what an auteur director does more of.
Now, I love to watch that type of auteur directing. It still really excites me. I saw that Misanthrope and I love that director, but it’s just not who I am. I tried it, and it’s just not me.
MIC: Well, you talked about learning a more subtle approach, a more quiet approach.
JS: I’ve become more and more interested, especially through my work with the Keen Company, in creating honest productions that let the audience in and allow them to have their own emotional experience. It’s really important to me that emotion be present in theatre. And I don’t mean actors crying onstage. I mean actors going through journeys that let the audience in. And oftentimes, you don’t see that in this auteur type of directing.
MIC: Besides working as a director, you do some acting coaching. Do you find when you’re coaching someone that it’s like directing on a smaller scale, or is it a completely different beast?
JS: It’s different. My job as a coach is more about bringing out the actor’s instincts. My rehearsal process is all about that as well, but it’s also about shaping a story. In coaching it’s to make an actor comfortable in an audition.
I really love to activate actors and have them trust their own instincts, and to me that usually provides a great result. Activating actors’ work and getting them to understand what they want, believe it or not, is really difficult for some actors. And it really changes their work. I find that it really grounds them in the audition room, and takes their focus off of themselves, which is what an actor needs in an audition.
MIC: It’s a deceptively simple sounding question: “What does the character want?”
JS: Yes, but it’s also scary. Because you’ve got to risk something if you want something. There is a risk you will fail, which we are all terrified of. And it’s easier to just play “at” something than to really want something. So actors very often delay as long as possible going for what they want because they don’t have to risk.
MIC: You’ve directed a wide range of theatrical periods and styles, but not a lot of Shakespeare. Would you like to direct more Shakespeare?
JS: Oh yeah, I love Shakespeare. As an actor, it was, I think, my greatest love. And so I love to bring that to other actors.
MIC: What about it do you love?
JS: Everything is in the language. Everything. The emotion, the action, the words, the thought. It’s all there at one time. And when an actor discovers that, it is the most magical thing. For me it was transcendent. It changed me as an actor. The heightened text of it carries with it an incredible energy that I connect with. There’s just so much in it. It’s been very interesting going from Gurney to Shakespeare.
MIC: So you’re working on Shakespeare now?
JS: Yeah, I’m directing a production of The Tempest at a college out on Long Island. We just started last week, and things are going well.
MIC: And The Dining Room is enjoying a very healthy run through October 20th?
JS: It’s insane! We extended a week; it’s selling out every night. Audiences love Gurney.
MIC: Why do you think that is?
JS: I think it speaks to people. Number one, this play is all about family, and there are so many different scenes, so there’s got to be one scene, if not many, that speaks to you. He’s really good at crafting things, and really good at making you feel.
MIC: So what’s next?
JS: I don’t know. That’s the scary thing!
MIC: Well, something will come.
JS: Yeah, it usually does.
MIC: You’re Jonathan Silverstein!
JS: Yeah! I have a cool emotional pitch!
MIC: (laughs) Well thanks for this little peek into Jonathan Silverstein’s world.
JS: You’re welcome! Thank you for asking.
Related Articles:


How interesting that your post begins with “An Inspector Calls.” I also saw that production and was totally enthralled. From the very creative technical production to the amazingly talented Rosemary Harris as the matriarch, I loved it.
I enjoyed Mr. Silverstein’s “Dining Room” and look forward to seeing what he will direct next. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get a chance to audition for him one day.