The Theater of Vulnerability: Why La Jolla Playhouse’s DNA Series Matters More Than Ever
Theater, at its core, is about connection. It’s about stripping away the noise and focusing on the raw, human stories that bind us. That’s why, when I heard about La Jolla Playhouse’s DNA New Work Series returning for its 13th year, I wasn’t just intrigued—I was excited. What makes this particularly fascinating is the shift in leadership. With Jessica Stone stepping into the role of artistic director, the series isn’t just continuing; it’s evolving. And in a world where new voices in theater are both celebrated and challenged, this evolution feels timely.
A New Vision for New Work
Jessica Stone’s appointment is more than a change in personnel—it’s a statement. Stone, a two-time Tony Award-nominated director, brings a reputation for nurturing emerging talent and a passion for storytelling that feels deeply personal. Personally, I think this is exactly what the DNA series needs. Under Christopher Ashley’s leadership, the series established itself as a launching pad for bold, experimental work. But Stone’s vision seems to lean further into vulnerability, both for the artists and the audience.
Take her approach to Rockville, one of this year’s selections. The play, written by Steven Levenson, explores the tentative friendship between two isolated characters. What many people don’t realize is that this kind of intimate, character-driven story is exactly what the DNA series excels at. By stripping away elaborate sets and costumes, the series forces us to focus on the heart of the narrative. It’s theater in its purest form, and Stone’s direction promises to amplify that.
The Philosophy Behind the Series
Gabriel Greene, the playhouse’s director of artistic development, describes the DNA series’ philosophy as threefold: matching resources with developing projects, expanding relationships with artists, and bringing audiences deeper into the creative process. But if you take a step back and think about it, this philosophy is about more than just logistics. It’s about trust. Trust between artists, trust between the playhouse and its audience, and trust in the power of storytelling to transform.
One thing that immediately stands out is Greene’s mention of “development hell.” It’s a term that resonates deeply in the theater world. So many new works get stuck in endless cycles of readings and revisions, never making it to production. The DNA series, by contrast, is designed to propel projects forward. This raises a deeper question: What does it take for a play to truly come alive? Is it resources? Relationships? Or something more intangible?
Themes That Reflect Our Times
This year’s selections—Rockville, Mother’s Day, Artney Jackson, and Evil Diva—share a common thread: they delve into one-on-one relationships in a deeply personal way. From my perspective, this isn’t just a coincidence. It’s a reflection of the broader cultural moment we’re in. Loneliness, reproductive issues, workplace struggles, and family dynamics—these are the themes that dominate our conversations, our news cycles, and our anxieties.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how these plays approach these themes. They’re not grand, sweeping narratives; they’re intimate, molecular examinations. Artney Jackson, for example, focuses on a single week in a man’s life as he vies for a promotion after 25 years at the same job. What this really suggests is that the most universal stories are often the most specific. By zooming in on individual experiences, these plays invite us to see ourselves in the characters.
Why May Matters
The decision to move the series from December to May is more than just a scheduling change. It’s a strategic shift that speaks to the challenges of modern theater. December, with its holiday frenzy, is a difficult time for both artists and audiences to engage deeply with new work. May, on the other hand, feels like a breath of fresh air. It’s a time when people are more open to experimentation, more willing to take a chance on something new.
But what this really implies is something bigger: the theater world is constantly adapting. It’s not just about the art; it’s about how we experience it. By moving the series to May, La Jolla Playhouse is acknowledging that context matters. The same play, presented at a different time, can have a completely different impact.
The Future of New Work
As I reflect on the DNA series, I can’t help but think about its broader implications. In an era where commercial theater often dominates the spotlight, initiatives like this are vital. They remind us that theater is not just about entertainment; it’s about exploration. It’s about taking risks, asking questions, and pushing boundaries.
What this really suggests is that the future of theater lies in its ability to remain vulnerable. To embrace the unknown, to trust the process, and to believe in the power of storytelling. Jessica Stone’s leadership, combined with Gabriel Greene’s curation, feels like a perfect storm for this kind of innovation.
Final Thoughts
The DNA New Work Series isn’t just another theater event—it’s a movement. It’s a reminder that theater, at its best, is a conversation. Between artists and audiences, between characters and their creators, and between the stage and the world beyond. Personally, I think this is what makes it so important. It’s not just about the plays being developed; it’s about the connections being forged.
If you take a step back and think about it, that’s what theater has always been about. And in a world that often feels disconnected, that’s more valuable than ever.
