When Chicago’s Court Theatre produced Wait Until Dark on stage nine years ago, they asked me to be a technical consultant.

Karina Jones in Wait Until Dark.

In the movie version, Audrey Hepburn played the lead: a blind woman terrified when a psychopath breaks into her apartment. In the Wait Until Dark chapter of my new book, Writing Out Loud, I explain that while I have no expertise in anything psychopathic, “I do know what it’s like to be newly blind and married to a man who can see, and that’s what the cast wants to know about. How can I say no?”

I loved being a tech consultant, but when I bragged about the actress playing the Audrey Hepburn character coming over to watch how I move around our apartment and get errands done, or when I was with friends and shared some of the questions I’d been asked by the handsome actors (why picture them otherwise?) on the set, those friends would inevitably ask, “So why don’t they just have you play the part?”

The easy answer was that I am not an actor and don’t know a thing about acting. The more complicated answer was that back then, even if I’d studied acting, I wouldn’t have been considered: actors with disabilities were not getting many roles on stage or in Hollywood nine years ago.

But that’s beginning to change. last year I wrote two posts about actors with disabilities scoring major parts:

• Michael Thornton rolled onto the stage in his wheelchair to play the lead role in Gift Theater’s production of Shakespeare’s Richard III at the Steppenwolf, and
• Micah Fowler, a young actor with cerebral palsy was cast as a character with CP on the TV comedy Speechless.

And then there’s four-foot-five actor Peter Dinklage, who won an Emmy for his role as Tyrion Lannister in HBO’s Game of Thrones, And now actor Mickey Rowe is one of the first actors with autism to play a character with autism on a major professional stage: He’s playing the lead role in the Tony award-winning play Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time at the Indiana Repertory Theatre before it opens at New York’s Syracuse Stage October 25th.

But wait. There’s more! Nine years after my debut as tech consultant, for the first time ever, an actress who is blind has debuted as the lead in Wait Until Dark, too! I got in touch with British actress Karina Jones after she landed the Audrey Hepburn role. Turns out she’d lost her sight as a young teenager, and she shared a link to an interview to share with you all that gives more information on her background –including her time as a circus tightrope walker and trapeze artist!In that same interview she expresses her surprise about her part in Wait Until Dark: “It’s 2017 and yet I am the first blind actress to take the role of a blind person in a play that has been around since the 60s. Why?” More from the interview:

“Producers and directors should give disabled roles to disabled actors. A blind person wouldn’t be auditioned for, say, Desdemona – we’re not there yet – but with roles that are written as disabled or impaired I think it is only fair that they should be played by disabled actors. In this play I’ve totally got an advantage [over a sighted actress] because I’ve got a lot of shorthand. I’ve got a head start because I have real insight into the character. Playing this part is, for me, an amazing thing; a real push forward for equality. It’s brilliant.”

The play opened at Devonshire Park Theatre in Eastbourne on August 24, 2017 and is on a UK tour now. They’ll be in Exeter next week,and the tour continues until December. For tickets and more information, visit www.waituntildark.co.uk”.

Michael Thornton in rehearsal for Richard III. Photo: Steppenwolf

The special tour for people who have visual impairments before Gift Theater’s production of Richard III at Steppenwolf’s Garage Theater last Sunday was one of the most well-thought-out audio touch tours I’ve been on – and I’ve been on a lot of them! Here’s how it went:

1. The play’s director Jennifer Thebus spoke to us about why she was drawn to the play, her decision to cast Michael Patrick Thornton in the lead, her decision to go minimalist with costumes and set design.
2. Mike Thornton, who plays the lead, joined in and started his part of the pre-game show talking about his high school English teacher, the man responsible for turning Mike on to Shakespeare. That teacher went on to get a Ph.D., and he’s the Shakespeare scholar who adapted Richard III for the production we’d be seeing later that afternoon.
3. Martin Wilde, the man who’d be sitting in the balcony describing scene changes, character entrances/exits and other movements into my headset during the performance, took two or three minutes to describe the simple set design. Preparing to audio describe the play took much longer – he’d already been at two live performances and had been given permission by the cast to videotape one as well to practice at home.
4. My friend Judy Roth had met me at Steppenwolf ahead of time to see (she can!) how these special tours work. She knows my Seeing Eye dog Whitney, so I took the dog’s harness off and handed Judy the leash to have both hands free to touch the few things on stage.
5. Evan Hatfield, the Director of Audience Experience at Steppenwolf, led me onto the stage, but with so few things up there, he added a bonus….
6. I got to feel some of the stuff on the prop table! The prop table is exactly what the name implies: props are carefully placed on this table offstage so actors can grab them efficiently on their way onstage. Aha! Something actors have in common with those of us who are blind: We like to keep important items in a particular spot so we can find them easily.
7. Actors (I counted — I think there were 14!) lined up on stage, and one by one they were asked the same set of questions by Evan. Height? Skin tone? Hair color? Any facial hair? Make any physical decisions to convey character, help tell your character’s story? Answers to that last question were intriguing. One had decided his character would have a slight limp, and the woman playing one of the princes had the same answer that the woman playing Lady Anne had –both were playing characters who were unsure of themselves, so they shifted their weight from one foot to the other to signify feeling off-balance. Actors weren’t asked to describe their costumes — we’d been told earlier they’d all be in simple outfits in shades of black and grey, and each would wear pearl earrings and a ruffled collar.
8. Each actor recited a line from the play so we’d recognize the voice later.
9. Actors involved in the final fight scene stayed on stage then to review the choreography. Touch tour participants are usually ushered out of the theatre for this, but staff members who were concerned about Whitney’s reaction to the violence during the actual show wanted us to stay and check it out. She passed the audition.
10. Cast members who love dogs came down to meet Whitney then, and I took her harness off so they could play with her. Pet therapy, both for Whit and for the actors!

I was not as lucky as Mike Thornton was in high school. My English teachers were not charismatic. None of them turned me on to Shakespeare. Sunday marked the first time I’d ever attended a live performance of a Shakespeare play.

I did a fair bit of research ahead of time. I read A Rose for the Crown, historical fiction set during the War of the Roses that led to Richard III’s coronation. I read the Richard III sections of A Theatergoers Guide to Shakespeare and Tales from Shakespeare, and even downloaded the play itself –although all I red there were the “explanatory notes.”

I read some reviews, too. The Chicago Tribune review of the Gift Theater production at Steppenwolf was helpful in explaining how Thornton, who uses a wheelchair, would also be using a walker and an exoskeleton device to portray King Richard. The exoskeleton is a state-of-the-art device called Rewalk. It was provided by the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago, a sponsor of the production. When Mike was talking to us before the play, he was surprised he hadn’t heard much controversy over Gift’s decision to have him use a walker to stand up in order to seduce Lady Anne. Isn’t that blatant ablism?” he wondered. He credited the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago for providing the robotic exoskeleton he uses in the coronation scene and did his best to explain how he makes the exoskeleton work.

“Do you look scary when you cross the stage in it?” I asked. “Or powerful?” When he didn’t answer, I turned around to ask Martin ( the guy who’d be talking into our headsets). He didn’t hesitate to give his answer: “Powerful.”

The audio/touch tour had started two hours before the play. It was so stimulating that I wasn’t sure the play could live up to It.

It did.

The whole experience was so exhilarating, the dialogue so intense and dynamic, the stage so full of characters speaking in that unfamiliar, well, Shakespearian way, I guess, that by the time Act One was over, I was exhausted.

I left at intermission.

Let me be clear here. My leaving early had everything to do with my limitations, not the production’s. I routinely seek out plays with few characters and one act. That’s because, otherwise, it’s hard for me to keep up as well as I want to. And my previous experience with Shakespeare was nil — even in my sighted days, I’d struggled to understand the plays we were required to read in high school and college. All to say, given my history with a Shakespeare play? This Richard III production was a rousing success. It was my first, but not my last.

Gift Theatre’s production of Richard III runs through May 1 in Steppenwolf’s Garage Theatre, 1624 N. Halsted St. in Chicago, and Sunday’s matinee on April 3, 2016 features American Sign Language (ASL). Tickets available at 312.335.1650 and steppenwolf.org.

This holiday season has me more moody than I can ever remember at this time of year. Part of it is just missing departed loved ones more. And then, well, just about everything going on in the world seems to be stupid right about now.

So early Saturday afternoon, as we rode the Blue Line to The Gift Theater in Jefferson Park, I wondered if attending “Good for Otto” — a play that focuses on people’s struggles with depression and other mental health challenges — was such a good idea.

A scene from “Good for Otto.”

It turned out to be just what the doctor ordered.

First, the backstory. Beth’s posted here before about The Gift Theater, and its co-founder Michael Patrick Thornton. The short of it is, Thornton befriended the renowned Tony-winning playwright David Rabe years ago. And when Rabe wrote “Good for Otto,” he chose to make its world premiere not in New York, not at the Goodman or Steppenwolf here in Chicago, but at The Gift.

The theater itself is tiny. It’s a storefront theater, to be sure — but it must have been a very small store. The production features an alley set — that is, a bank of people (two rows here) sit on one side of the stage, and two rows sit opposite. Each side of the audience faces the other as the players carry on in the middle. And you do see each other’s reactions.

The main stage was the same floor our chairs sat on. One of the therapist’s chair used throughout the performance sat not four feet from Beth and me, and we had to mind our own dogs not to obstruct actors as they came and went.

And they came and went in that tiny space a lot  — 15 of them — impossibly and gracefully thanks to an ingenious loft staging.

I’ll spare details —  not for fear of letting a spoiler out — it’s not the kind of play that can be spoiled. I’ll say this: It runs three hours. I never last three hours at these things. But I wanted the intermission to end so I could get back to all these people. They are troubled. But there are laughs. A lot of them, and they’re all laugh with but not at.

Don’t take my word for it  — read this glowing review in the NY Times  — yes the Times had a reviewer go to a theater that holds 47 people and is located in a relatively obscure (but charming) neighborhood in Chicago. Even better (to us locals) is Chris Jones’ review in the Chicago Tribune.

If you’re in the Chicago area and love theater, go. It’s a gift (sorry). And it’s been extended until February 7.

If you’re not a theater buff but have experienced depression or other mental health struggles  — or have been close to someone who has (in other words, everybody else on earth): Go!

In the play’s array of portrayals of struggling characters you may well see bits and pieces of yourself or a loved one or friend who has struggled in the same ways. And that may be uncomfortable, but to me — and clearly it was  for other audience members  — it was an opportunity to connect, and to not feel alone.

More than anything, for people who have struggled with mood issues or brain chemistry, the play makes clear that the struggle is worth it.

Happy Holidays everyone.

The opera Bel Canto (based on Ann Patchett’s novel by the same name) had its world Premiere at Chicago’s Lyric Opera Monday night, and I’m going to tomorrow night’s performance. It will be the first time ever that I’ve attended an opera.

When I was a kid, the only opera I knew was the Merrie Melodies cartoon one. you know, the one where Strauss music follows Viking Elmer Fudd as he bellows “Kill the wabbit! Kill the wabbit!” and chases Bugs Bunny? It still makes me smile, just thinking about it.

I ditched a day of high school for the movie premiere of The Who’s Tommy, and I played the double-album to Jesus Christ Superstar at high volume in my basement bedroom, but I never did see a rock opera live on stage. Opera was not on my radar in college, and after I lost my sight I figured that with all the over-the-top costumes and staging and lyrics in foreign languages, opera would be forever off my list. But then came a sequence of events more outlandish than most opera plots:

1. Ann Patchett, one of my favorite authors and a woman who didn’t know a thing about opera before, came out with a bestseller with a world-renowned soprano as the main character.
2. Mike and I moved to Chicago.
3. Real-life renowned soprano Renee Fleming signed on as the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s creative consultant.
4. Ms. Fleming saw to it that the Lyric obtain rights to the novel Bel Canto.
5. And now, tomorrow night, this blind woman will debut in the Lyric’s audience.

I’ve been preparing for my debut ever since I heard that the opera Bel Canto would be opening here this year. I started by rereading the book, then I went to the Harold Washington Library Center in Chicago with friends a few weeks ago to hear Ann Patchett and Renee Fleming talk about the making of the opera, and then last week I went to the Lyric with a friend to hear the men behind-the-scenes give a panel about all the work involved in developing a new opera for the stage. Thanks to them, I now know what a “librettist” does.

Still, I wasn’t sure I’d attend the opera. Tickets can be pricey, and not only would I miss out on the costumes and the staging, but without being able to read the subtitles (this opera is sung in nine, count them, nine different languages) I wouldn’t understand most of the dialogue. I’m pretty game for trying new things. Experience has shown me, however, that at times overreaching can leave me feeling worse about my blindness than staying home. Maybe going to an opera would be an overreach.

Eyebrows up! My positive experiences with other Chicago cultural institutions in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act this year spurred me on. I wrote Nora O’Malley, Facility Operations Manager for the Lyric Opera of Chicago with my questions about accessibility — namely, the subtitles. “I am guessing it is unconventional to ask for the libretto of a brand new opera ahead of time,” I wrote. “But if I promised not to share it with anyone else, might you find a way to email it to me before the opera? That way I could use my talking computer to read it before I come…”

Nora wrote back write away. Turns out she remembered me from a talk I’d given in September at Greater Together, a cultural accessibility summit here in Chicago. “A Word version of the program is attached,” she wrote. “We’ll also have Braille programs available if you’re interested.” She asked where I’d be sitting and said they’d find a way to accommodate my Seeing Eye dog Whitney if I bring her. “If you do plan on bringing her, you can notify me via email, call me or simply ask for the House Manager when you arrive and we’ll make it work.” The program she attached outlines the plot, and before I head to the Civic Opera House I’ll read through it to see how the libretto (did I mention I know what that word means now?) might differ from the original book version

As for the subtitles, turns out I may be able to hear them at tomorrow night’s performance. “Lastly, the December 10th performance of Bel Canto is our Audio Described performance,” Nora wrote. “Would you be interested in listening in?” I am! I will! Time to dig out my ball gown and opera-length gloves – I’m off to the opera.

If you watched the Grey’s Anatomy spin-off show Private Practice when it was on ABC a few years ago, you know who Dr. Gabriel Fife is. The genetics specialist was introduced in the third season as a love interest who worked for a rival medical practice. The character used a wheelchair, and so does the actor who played him: Michael Patrick Thornton.

Michael Patrick Thornton

Private Practice went off the air in 2013, but national TV watchers loss is Chicago’s gain: Michael Patrick Thornton is a native Chicagoan, and now that he’s back in town full-time we get to see him live on stage here.

I myself appeared on stage last week at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre with Michael Patrick Thornton, and after sharing the stage with him, you know, I just call him Michael. We were there with other disability advocates at “Greater Together,” Chicago’s first Cultural Accessibility Summit.

My job was to give a short testimonial on how important it is for civic and cultural leaders (hundreds of them were there in the audience) to support accessible programming at the museums, theatres and foundations they work for. Michael was there in his real-life role as the Artistic Director & Co-founder of The Gift Theatre in Chicago. He talked candidly with the audience about the spinal stroke he suffered at age 23 and what it was like to emerge from a coma three days later on life support.

“It took a while for doctors to figure out what happened to me — it was very Dr. House-like,” he said, the sound of dark humor in his voice. He left the hospital paralyzed from the neck down, and after years of hard work at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago he’s regained some of his mobility.

Michael Patrick Thornton’s interest in theater started when he was in high school, and he and William Nedved had founded The Gift Theatre Company two years before Michael’s spinal stroke. Michael didn’t take much of a break from The Gift during his recovery — a 2006 story in the Chicago Reader  marveled that months after suffering a second stroke during rehab, Thornton “was directing Language of Angels, holding auditions at RIC while still an inpatient.” During the Q&A last week an audience member thanked Thornton for applauding the work the Chicago arts community is doing to improve accessibility for patrons, but she wondered if the same could be said for performers. “Have things improved for actors in wheelchairs, too?”

Michael answered with an immediate “no.” Actors with disabilities are woefully underrepresented on stage and screen, he said. “I’m pretty much it.”

He told the audience that one thing he can do to advance the cause for other actors with disabilities is to take on roles as someone’s best friend, or a lawyer, or a criminal, people like that — avoid lead roles in inspirational stories about heroes with disabilities who triumph over adversity. “I want parts where the wheelchair never once gets mentioned.”

Michael Patrick Thornton played Iago in Gift’s production of Othello last year, and when I talked to him after our presentation last week he told me how thrilled he is to be directing the world premiere of David Rabe’sGood for Otto at Gift next month.

But wait. There’s more: in March of next year he has the lead role in Gift’s production of Richard III, which will be staged at Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre to accommodate larger audiences. Here’s a prepared statement from Michael about the upcoming season, which will be The Gift’s 15th:

Great theater asks great questions. Our milestone anniversary season asks: ‘What does it mean to be human?’ In perfect circuitousness, we begin where many of us first met — at Steppenwolf. In collaboration with our lead production sponsor, The Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago, we will present a definitive ‘Richard III’ for the ages, performed in conjunction with Shakespeare’s 400th anniversary. It will re-define what disability, ability, and Shakespeare’s villain can look like.

Good for Otto opens at The Gift Theatre in Chicago’s Jefferson park neighborhood next month, and Richard III opens in March, 2016 at Steppenwolf’s Garage Theatre at 1650 N. Halsted in Chicago. Mark your calendars now and look for me at both performances — I’ll be in the audience this time.