Idris Goodwin On His Hip-Hop Inspired Play, How We Got On: A Break Beat Play
Award-winning playwright, emcee and educator Idris Goodwin never stops grinding. When he’s not teaching a hip-hop class at Colorado College, he’s writing lyrics, penning a play or spending time with his family. He is the true definition of an artist, often times suffering for his art, but ultimately embracing his passion so he can share it with the rest of the world. His most recent play, How We Got On: A Break Beat Play, combines elements of hip-hop with a storyline that takes the audience on a journey back in time when hip-hop was just beginning to breathe new life. In the RAPstation interview, Goodwin talks about the concept behind the play, how hip-hop fits into it and the next two plays in the series, The Realness and This Is Modern Art.
Check out http://www.mrt.org/show/realness for more details.
RAPstation (Kyle Eustice): How did the idea for How We Got On: A Break Beat Play come together?
Idris Goodwin: I’ve always had a foot in theater, as a playwright and director, and in hip-hop music. I wanted to write a play that was not just about hip-hop, but also was structured like some the DJ Clue mixtapes I came up listening to, but I didn't wanna write a “musical." I wanted it to be rhythmic, but not big and over the top. I wanted to do something small, that somebody could do in their basement if they wanted to. I wanted to write about that moment in 1988 when Yo! MTV Raps premiered and how for folks living outside of New York or LA it was this major moment. So the play is classic coming-of-age story; three kids in a small town with big dreams. But these are kids of color in a mostly white town for whom hip-hop is like the answer. And we watch them discover and fail and lose hope and get frustrated and fight and support and all that stuff 15-year-olds do and occasionally the DJ interjects to tell us what an MPC is.
What inspired you to finally write it?
It’s inspired by the innocence of that era, too. I mean cats had the rope chains and track suits like the drug dealers, but they were also dancing in the videos and having a good time. It was very youthful and playful. That EPMD song "Please Listen to My Demo" was a big influence—that very earnest wide eyed desire to be heard and the ingenuity required in that analog era. You actually had to really know how to manipulate technology. Now you can make an album on your phone.
How did the play become a reality?
It got passed around. It made it to The O’Neill New Plays Conference, which is like a showcase/workshop to kick the tires and show off your idea to people who can make you official. It was selected for world premiere by the people at Actors Theater of Louisville. They host something called Humana Festival of New American plays which is an internationally recognized launchpad that the whole industry shows up to see.
The play went on to be produced in a bunch of other cities like Boston, Cleveland, Sacramento and Portland. It’s had real big budget productions, small but mighty ones, college ones; all over the map. And it’s still moving around the country.
Congratulations. That’s incredible.
This inspired me to actually write a series of plays I call The Break Beat plays, which are plays that not only draw from hip-hop aesthetics in terms of style, but also explore some of the themes found in the culture: questions of authenticity, race, representation, gender politics, class, all that, but also they're about regular folks, dreamers and people on the hustle.
What’s the next one in the series?
The next break beat play is The Realness, a love story you could call it. It goes into production at the end of the month and opens on March 18th at Merrimack Rep in Lowell, Massachusetts, just outside Boston. Set in ’96, the start of the "Puffy era,” it’s about an aspiring hip-hop journalist from an affluent suburb, who falls for this dope MC from the hood. The whole play is underscored by beats. The monologues, the scenes, the rhymes is all wall to wall boom-bap. I also have a play called This is Modern Art, which I co-wrote with poet and activist Kevin Coval. It’s based on the true story of a group of graffiti artists that bombed the side of the Art Institute of Chicago back in 2010.
What are you hoping to get across to your audience with this play?
At the end of the day, I am trying to make good plays—interesting, joyful, complex, entertaining evenings of theater. But moreover, with the break beat plays, trying to show a different side to hip-hop culture. I have been around the grassroots, independent educators and entrepreneurs. And folks who are mad talented, but just never get their shot or they live in Chicago. It’s only just recently that Chicago has been getting a look, but for the longest there was a ceiling. This culture is so expansive. There’s just more stories and sides to it than what most people see/experience. So How We Got On is just the primer.
How else does hip-hop go together with this play?
So How We Got On borrows heavily from hip-hop theatricality. I get tight when people think it’s just records and reality shows. It’s performance. It’s live. It’s theater! MC means “Move the Crowd.” In How We Got On, the DJ is the narrator. She treats the characters and scenes like they're records, blending and scratching them. She stops for a few moments and talks to the audience. The characters rhyme a whole lot, too. I wanted it to feel like a show, but not a big pyro technics or Tupac hologram Coachella thing, but a Wednesday night dive bar that’s covered in posters and hello my name is stickers with graff tags on it.
What is the plan for this play?
The indie movements of the ‘90s and early early ,80s in music and film were major inspirations and influences on me. The idea that you just make the stuff you would wanna see and you take time to build relationships and you travel and hustle and grind. Sometimes you partner up with different entities and sometimes you sell it outta the back of your car, but you make your own lane and you never sacrifice your voice and your point of view.
How do you get these plays produced?
My work is done typically by the midsize regional theaters that are not afraid to embrace something different. And a lot of these theaters are biased toward New York-based writers. Theater goers can be kind of close minded some times. And a lot of young people don’t feel welcomed or represented in the theater. How We Got On and some of my other plays bring out new folks to the theater. And I ain’t just talking— I have numbers to back it up. So that’s what I am on now. How We Got On continues to get produced and I think The Realness and This Is Modern Art will do the same. And I’m already writing the next break beat play. I would, of course, love to have my work on Broadway. I mean, that’s like going to the NBA Finals. And like my characters, I am a total dreamer. So I think someday it'll happen, but in the meantime, I'm just trying to keep making these lay ups and free throws.
Idris Goodwin On His Hip-Hop Inspired Play, How We Got On: A Break Beat Play
Idris Goodwin On His Hip-Hop Inspired Play, How We Got On: A Break Beat Play
Award-winning playwright, emcee and educator Idris Goodwin never stops grinding. When he’s not teaching a hip-hop class at Colorado College, he’s writing lyrics, penning a play or spending time with his family. He is the true definition of an artist, often times suffering for his art, but ultimately embracing his passion so he can share it with the rest of the world. His most recent play, How We Got On: A Break Beat Play, combines elements of hip-hop with a storyline that takes the audience on a journey back in time when hip-hop was just beginning to breathe new life. In the RAPstation interview, Goodwin talks about the concept behind the play, how hip-hop fits into it and the next two plays in the series, The Realness and This Is Modern Art.
Check out http://www.mrt.org/show/realness for more details.
RAPstation (Kyle Eustice): How did the idea for How We Got On: A Break Beat Play come together?
Idris Goodwin: I’ve always had a foot in theater, as a playwright and director, and in hip-hop music. I wanted to write a play that was not just about hip-hop, but also was structured like some the DJ Clue mixtapes I came up listening to, but I didn't wanna write a “musical." I wanted it to be rhythmic, but not big and over the top. I wanted to do something small, that somebody could do in their basement if they wanted to. I wanted to write about that moment in 1988 when Yo! MTV Raps premiered and how for folks living outside of New York or LA it was this major moment. So the play is classic coming-of-age story; three kids in a small town with big dreams. But these are kids of color in a mostly white town for whom hip-hop is like the answer. And we watch them discover and fail and lose hope and get frustrated and fight and support and all that stuff 15-year-olds do and occasionally the DJ interjects to tell us what an MPC is.
What inspired you to finally write it?
It’s inspired by the innocence of that era, too. I mean cats had the rope chains and track suits like the drug dealers, but they were also dancing in the videos and having a good time. It was very youthful and playful. That EPMD song "Please Listen to My Demo" was a big influence—that very earnest wide eyed desire to be heard and the ingenuity required in that analog era. You actually had to really know how to manipulate technology. Now you can make an album on your phone.
How did the play become a reality?
It got passed around. It made it to The O’Neill New Plays Conference, which is like a showcase/workshop to kick the tires and show off your idea to people who can make you official. It was selected for world premiere by the people at Actors Theater of Louisville. They host something called Humana Festival of New American plays which is an internationally recognized launchpad that the whole industry shows up to see.
The play went on to be produced in a bunch of other cities like Boston, Cleveland, Sacramento and Portland. It’s had real big budget productions, small but mighty ones, college ones; all over the map. And it’s still moving around the country.
Congratulations. That’s incredible.
This inspired me to actually write a series of plays I call The Break Beat plays, which are plays that not only draw from hip-hop aesthetics in terms of style, but also explore some of the themes found in the culture: questions of authenticity, race, representation, gender politics, class, all that, but also they're about regular folks, dreamers and people on the hustle.
What’s the next one in the series?
The next break beat play is The Realness, a love story you could call it. It goes into production at the end of the month and opens on March 18th at Merrimack Rep in Lowell, Massachusetts, just outside Boston. Set in ’96, the start of the "Puffy era,” it’s about an aspiring hip-hop journalist from an affluent suburb, who falls for this dope MC from the hood. The whole play is underscored by beats. The monologues, the scenes, the rhymes is all wall to wall boom-bap. I also have a play called This is Modern Art, which I co-wrote with poet and activist Kevin Coval. It’s based on the true story of a group of graffiti artists that bombed the side of the Art Institute of Chicago back in 2010.
What are you hoping to get across to your audience with this play?
At the end of the day, I am trying to make good plays—interesting, joyful, complex, entertaining evenings of theater. But moreover, with the break beat plays, trying to show a different side to hip-hop culture. I have been around the grassroots, independent educators and entrepreneurs. And folks who are mad talented, but just never get their shot or they live in Chicago. It’s only just recently that Chicago has been getting a look, but for the longest there was a ceiling. This culture is so expansive. There’s just more stories and sides to it than what most people see/experience. So How We Got On is just the primer.
How else does hip-hop go together with this play?
So How We Got On borrows heavily from hip-hop theatricality. I get tight when people think it’s just records and reality shows. It’s performance. It’s live. It’s theater! MC means “Move the Crowd.” In How We Got On, the DJ is the narrator. She treats the characters and scenes like they're records, blending and scratching them. She stops for a few moments and talks to the audience. The characters rhyme a whole lot, too. I wanted it to feel like a show, but not a big pyro technics or Tupac hologram Coachella thing, but a Wednesday night dive bar that’s covered in posters and hello my name is stickers with graff tags on it.
What is the plan for this play?
The indie movements of the ‘90s and early early ,80s in music and film were major inspirations and influences on me. The idea that you just make the stuff you would wanna see and you take time to build relationships and you travel and hustle and grind. Sometimes you partner up with different entities and sometimes you sell it outta the back of your car, but you make your own lane and you never sacrifice your voice and your point of view.
How do you get these plays produced?
My work is done typically by the midsize regional theaters that are not afraid to embrace something different. And a lot of these theaters are biased toward New York-based writers. Theater goers can be kind of close minded some times. And a lot of young people don’t feel welcomed or represented in the theater. How We Got On and some of my other plays bring out new folks to the theater. And I ain’t just talking— I have numbers to back it up. So that’s what I am on now. How We Got On continues to get produced and I think The Realness and This Is Modern Art will do the same. And I’m already writing the next break beat play. I would, of course, love to have my work on Broadway. I mean, that’s like going to the NBA Finals. And like my characters, I am a total dreamer. So I think someday it'll happen, but in the meantime, I'm just trying to keep making these lay ups and free throws.
