Audra Lord
The title of Audra Lord’s second full-length play, Fugue, holds a clever double meaning. Primarily, it’s a reference to the “fugue state,” the rare phenomenon where a person has temporary amnesia brought on by psychological or physical trauma. In the play, the central characters have all forgotten a traumatic event and need to decide whether or not they want to remember. The other meaning comes from the musical term “fugue,” a composition technique where two or more voices overlap into a cacophonous sort of repetition; Lord also wanted to organize the play into a few spoken word fugues, wherein the dialogue occasionally takes on that musical quality. Regardless of the title’s wordplay, the inspiration came from Lord’s fascination with the idea of memory. The A.V. Club spoke to the Detroit-area playwright about Fugue before its debut performance by the New Theatre Project at Ypsi’s Mix Studio Theater on Dec. 2.
The A.V. Club: What made you interested in becoming a playwright?
Audra Lord: Well, I was an actor, and I guess I still am an actor. For many years, most of my life, I’ve been involved on stage in some capacity or another. And one day, I was working on a play with several friends, all women, and we were complaining about not having another project to do together. We had just gone to see a friend who was in an original play and it was really, really bad, and afterwards, we had a great conversation and got all fired up and said, “You know what? We can do better than this.” And so the next day, I wrote a play. So it started as a means to an end.
AVC: And you’ve written several plays since then.
AL: It’s been quite a few. I have two full-length plays, two or three pretty sizable one-act plays, and everything else is 15- to 20-minute shorts.
AVC: What drew you to use that word, “fugue,” as a title?
AL: I really started writing the play with the desire to explore memory just in general. I didn’t want to write something that’s an Alzheimer’s play, because that sort of thing has been done, and I don’t necessarily feel a connection to Alzheimer’s as an idea or as a way of exploring memory. I wanted to explore memory in a way that hasn’t necessarily been done to death. I have a really terrible long-term memory. I have a pretty good short-term memory, but I have this feeling that I perpetually am living in the present. So I wanted to explore what it would be like for this group of people who just live in the present and they don’t have a past. I think “fugue” popped in my head first as a psychological term for the fugue state disorder, which is where you lose all memory of a particular chunk of time in your life. It’s generally something that’s temporary, and it may be brought on by something that’s traumatic or a physical trauma or accident or something. Fugue, the musical term, came into it later as a means of structurally shaping the play.
AVC: Why did you like the idea of it organized like a musical fugue?
AL: I went to a conference a couple summers ago in Omaha, and we saw a lot of exciting readings. And in particular, Erik Ehn premièred a little reading about the college campus shootings in Virginia. And it was this really beautiful environmental theater piece that had actors in every corner of the room all speaking together, and they all had their own monologues, but they were all doing this at the same time. Erik was conducting it, and the audience milled around the room and listened to all of it or various things. The feel of that stayed with me. It was an exciting sound, and there was something about it that was very musical. I wanted to put some of that into this play and have these sort of spoken-word fugues with all of the voices of the characters blending together. Sometimes they connect, sometimes they’re saying completely different things. The musicality of language was very important to this piece.