I n this illuminating conversation, Crystal Skillman and Kelundra Smith discuss finding their champions, the NNPN rolling world premiere process, and why taking risks on new work is more important now than ever.

Amelia French: Thank you both for joining me today.

Crystal, you are in the midst—and Kelundra, I believe you’ve just finished your series of rolling world premieres through the National New Play Network. Kelundra’s play The Wash has been produced in Atlanta, St. Louis, and Chicago, and Crystal’s play The Rocket Men was in Indianapolis, Atlanta, and Lincoln, Nebraska.

I think our readers have read the term “NNPN rolling world premiere” before, but they might not know about NNPN or the rolling world premiere program. Crystal, would you be willing to explain it briefly? Then, would each of you like to explain how your play came to be a rolling world premiere? 

Crystal Skillman: Yes. The National New Play Network is a series of theatres across America that are interested in doing new work. And they’re interested in there not being just one theatre that does a premiere, which is something that often comes up for playwrights. They share the premiere, and they created a model where you could see three productions over a space of time, however you want to work that, and the playwright is allowed to change that play. So, the play can really grow, and I’ll talk more about why I find that really exciting. I learned a lot about how it works by actually seeing Kelundra’s piece The Wash at Synchronicity Theatre about a year before my rolling world premiere. So, I’m very excited that we’re both on the call today.

Kelundra Smith: For me, the rolling world premiere process started with an organization in Atlanta called Hush Harbor Lab. They focus on the development of local playwrights who are either from the African diaspora or writing about the African diaspora—which is a very broad prompt, right? But The Wash was workshopped by Hush Harbor Lab, and that process included a public reading. Rachel May, who is the artistic director of Synchronicity Theatre, wasn’t able to make it to the reading. But, [since] it was sold out, she heard about it and was interested in it and asked to read the script. One of the actors in that lab was Brenda Porter, who is the producing artistic director of Impact Theatre in Atlanta. She was also interested in digging into the script after I made a few tweaks following that lab. Both of them, after reading the script, were willing to produce it, and I asked, “Would you all be willing to produce it together?” So, I connected them, they had whatever conversation they had, I was not a part of it, and they came to a partnership agreement and agreed to coproduce The Wash. Then Rachel said, “We should include the NNPN,” because essentially all of the member theatres at the annual conference are considering a rolling world premiere.

In order to do that showcase, you can’t have more than two committed productions from NNPN member theatres by the showcase date. So, we were either trying to make sure we were eligible for showcase or make sure that we were only needing to get one more theatre or zero theatres on board before the showcase. A lot of strategy went into it. We had a meeting with Anne Morgan at NNPN, and we made a spreadsheet of theatres that might be interested in The Wash and then did individual outreach to each of those theatres. It was like, “who has a relationship with who where?”

The second theatre to sign on The Wash was The Black Rep in St. Louis, then, after the showcase, Perceptions Theatre and Prop Thtr in Chicago signed on to coproduce the Chicago production. And my play wasn’t presented at [the] showcase. So, that’s how that got started, and it was important to me that the Atlanta production be the first one, because The Wash is set in Atlanta.

Crystal Skillman: I think we both had surprises about how it happened. Because from the outside, as I was following my friends, like Andrew Rosendorf, or Andrea Stolowitz, with their rolling world premieres, or Caridad Svich, it was hard to understand. I knew you had to outreach to theatres. For me, it was Constance Macy with the Phoenix Theatre in Indianapolis. Phoenix became the core theater that nominated the play for the roll[ing world premiere]. And once Kelundra and I had our champions, then the strategy became very clear, between our champions talking to the other theatres and taking advantage of how we could communicate to the rest of the network. I had thought, maybe like Kelundra thought, that you had to do the showcase held at the annual conference. I also didn’t get picked for the showcase, or it didn’t work out, and I was like, “What does that mean? I don’t know.”

Luckily, I discovered [that] NNPN members advocate for plays nominated for a rolling world premiere in a lot of different ways, whether it’s flagging the play through the New Play Exchange, their own private meetings, or a live pitch session… which I realized is at that annual conference!

I love pitching, even though it’s always scary. Constance Macy and I had a really great little pitch, and we did our thing at the microphone, but there are a lot of people pitching, and it was wonderful to meet the other authors [and] hear them talk about their plays.

It was like a real community. It was really fun. I met some artistic directors I’d heard about my whole life and I was like, “Oh, you’re a real person. You’re here.” And [the conference was] in Queens, which kind of got me excited, too. I felt lucky to be in my hometown and to meet theatre makers I admired from around the country. The conference is in another state every year, so that’s something you can consider, or you could even fly out for. It was really from that pitch that then people started to say, “Oh, that’s interesting. I’m going to go look at this play.” And that’s how we got our two other theatres.

Amelia French: That’s fantastic. I think there are already so many valuable nuggets to learn here, about everything that comes before a production: go out, meet people, see other people’s shows, talk to other writers, talk to artistic directors, get that cup of coffee, and have your pitch ready. So, Kelundra, would you talk a bit about your first rolling world premiere?

Kelundra Smith: Sure. The Wash is a historical dramedy inspired by the Atlanta Washerwomen Strike of 1881. The origin is that the International Cotton Exposition was coming to town to showcase Atlanta as the home of the New South. Post-Civil War, we’re moving into the Industrial Era. That was the way that the International Cotton Expo was being marketed at that time. Running in parallel to that was the fact that the most common profession for Black women from post-slavery to the 1940s was to be a laundress. And laundry work was very, very hard, back-breaking work, and it was often, of course, women who did it.

So, women were being stiffed on their pay, and they said, “Enough is enough.” No pay, no wash. We’re going to create a situation where the city has to pay attention to us so that we will have more control of our wages.

They refused to wash people’s clothes. They threw people’s clothes out into the street. They returned people’s clothes in whatever condition they were in when they decided to go on strike. Some people got their clothes back wet. They organized in church basements in Atlanta, and they worked with attorneys, abolitionists, and wrote letters to the mayors, to the council. Ultimately, they were successful in gaining control of their wages. But gaining control of their wages was a hard-won fight, because they also faced eviction, arrests, [and] they were charged with disturbing the peace. There were all these sort of tactics that the city and the state used to try to suppress their movement. But still they persisted.

I learned about that story when I went to the National Museum of African American History and Culture back in 2018. I was there covering the museum opening. I wrote an article for the Atlanta Journal Constitution about five things that Atlantans should look for at the new Smithsonian. While there, I came across that panel about the Atlanta Washerwoman Strike in the historical galleries and thought to myself, “Why have I never heard this story?” I’m from Georgia, grew up in Metro Atlanta. This is not taught in schools. There’s no plaque. There’s no monument. There’s no acknowledgement of it.

Then I read this book called To ‘Joy My Freedom by Tera Hunter.  I had some conversations with the Atlanta History Center. I looked at some newspaper archives and I was like, “This is a play,” and I had never written a play before. So, the journey of The Wash getting from idea to being an actual script was me picking it up and putting it down, back and forth for a number of years, and I really didn’t pick it back up until COVID. By the time we got to the lab in August of 2022, it was like a whole new world.

By the time we were getting into the first rehearsal, after that first lab with Hush Harbor, Synchronicity and Impact [had] found different community events where monologues or scenes could be read from the play to generate interest. We performed at the Decatur Arts Festival, and we did something with the Georgia State University Labor Archives leading up to a workshop that we had in April of ‘23.

I don’t believe in writing all the way through the rehearsal process. I think that people pay for a ticket, they want a show. It’s not about my ego. So, if the script’s not ready, you’ve got to relinquish it and let the directors and producers do what they need to do to make the ticket worth the cost. That’s my philosophy. I know some playwrights don’t think that way. So, I was like, “I’m going to write during the first two weeks of rehearsal and then we’re locking it in and whatever the script is, it is.” Then I didn’t come back into the process until tech, and I only came to tech for maybe two days. I don’t think I watched it until the second weekend. I was there opening weekend, but I can’t watch opening night. It’s nauseating.

[Laughter]

Crystal Skillman: I’m gonna lift that up. Yeah, it’s hard.

Kelundra Smith: Yeah, I can’t watch opening night.

As a playwright, I’m so about community engagement because of my background doing community engagement and PR. So, we had so many events around The Wash that summer because we ran for eight weeks. We opened June 6, 2024, and we ran for four weeks at Synchronicity. We had a week to transition over to Impact, and they had to rebuild the set and re-tech everything in that week. Then we ran for another four weeks there.

So, in that eight-week process, we had talkbacks, panel discussions, we did a soap-making demonstration. We had this event called Indigo Night where we had up-and-coming chefs sell plates and try out recipes so that people would have dinner and a show. We did that on Juneteenth and on July 19, which is the strike anniversary. There was so much happening around the production.

When I think about leading to opening, because of my background in community engagement and marketing, I switched my brain after I turned in the script to marketing brain, and I had a separate contract with the theatres to be able to market my own show. I did a bunch of press interviews and calendar postings and outreach, so my leading up to opening was a bit unconventional.

Crystal Skillman: One of the reasons why I am so psyched is that Kelundra and I have been circling around each other. Sometimes we’re in the same rooms together. Kelundra came to my play The Rocket Men, which I’ll talk about in a second. But I very much also work the same way, and I’ll describe how in a second. Should I lay down a little bit what The Rocket Men is? Is that a natural segue?

Amelia French: Absolutely.

Crystal Skillman: Amazing! So, The Rocket Men is a six-person play about the former Nazis who sent us to the moon, which is a true story. It’s the German scientists who are brought over in Operation Paperclip. Specifically, the play focuses on Wernher von Braun’s team. That team of fifty were instrumental to scientific innovation here, forming NASA, and that specific achievement of getting us to the moon with their work on Saturn V.

You’re going to notice a lot of cool similarities in our stories in different ways. I was working in Alabama. A play of mine was being produced at Athens State University, and Hugh Long, who was doing that play, which is a licensed play, had me out to chat a little bit. While out there, he was like, “I want to do a new play commission with you. Let’s try to make that happen.” And I was like, “Well, I know how the Mellon does it. That sounds really good to me.” And he was like, “Sure.”

So, we built our own commission, which is unheard of. I’m putting it out there because playwrights, please ask for what you need. I know it’s hard and I know sometimes it doesn’t always happen, but do it. See what happens. In this case, it happened. And I was like, “Great. What do I write about?” I was thinking and noodling, and I was at what you do in Alabama near Huntsville: You go to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center. When I was there, I picked up this book, The Rocket Team (by Frederick Ordway and Mitchell R. Sharpe), and I started to read the story. Also, one of the major halls, about Saturn V, goes through the story of this team.

I started to dig into it and I was like, “Wait a minute, this is salesmanship as much as it is scientific innovation.” Wernher von Braun has a lot of charisma and courted a lot of places to go after World War II. His V-2 rockets, which were dropped on Britain, those missiles are really what helped NASA become NASA in many ways. And really, NASA hadn’t been formed yet. It was still a part of the Army here.

A lot of my plays have a political bend, particularly anti-guns, anti-weapons, anti-violence in some way. I examine that violence or whatever is happening. And they are dramadies in a way. They are docudramas. There’s a lot of humor to them. But I started to dig into the story. In that book The Rocket Team, I did encounter three chapters about the camp of Dora-Mittelbau, but in that book it was written from the technical point of view. So, I kept digging into the story and it wasn’t until later that I realized, “Oh, this V-2 technology is pioneered by using slave labor.” It is World War II, right? They’re becoming concentration camps in one way or the other, which we explore in the story. To the point where my friend, Andrea Stolowitz, a great playwright who wrote The Berlin Diaries, says, “How do you show a point on an atrocity,” right? It’s all horrible. Every aspect is horrible. But even women and children were there at Dora in those last few months. In many cases, the Germans wouldn’t speak about this here but that was as much due to PR. That was the Americans’ doing as well. They weren’t allowed to. That wasn’t part of the heroic story they wanted to portray to the American public. Von Braun ends up being a part of Walt Disney specials. Von Braun ends up having magazine ads. Von Braun has toys. Von Braun has movies. So, it’s just a really interesting story. I had no idea how to write it.

I did know that there is a conceit in the play that I was going to explore with someone called Friend, who we believed was assisting von Braun—which is one of the big surprises of the play, who that person is. I knew I wanted them to be played by women for the various things that I talked about. They step into the roles of the men and then we learn why they’re the ones telling us the story. But I discovered in my research the story of Heinz-Hermann Koelle, HHK in the play, who wasn’t a part of Operation Paperclip, thirteen years younger and a pacifist, only signed up because he would be drafted. He has a very strong relationship with von Braun, and I thought, wow, okay, this is going to get into the generational difference of how we talk about the choice of ethotech, the ethics of tech. He believes in speaking about the atrocities that happened in Germany. He believes in speaking about how the sanctions are necessary. He believes that the country needs to do work for the choices that were made, whereas von Braun and the rocket team would never speak about it. And it’s true to history. They never apologized. So, that’s where the kind of cooker of the play began, and it’s very theatrical, a lot of theatrical reimagining.

Along that journey, even with the workshop in Alabama before this NNPN idea even started, I ended up on NPR. So, it’s very similar to what Kelundra is talking about. I also believe in speaking and communicating about your plays. As a playwriting teacher, [I] talk about that. I had a play downtown in 2014 and the press agent went dark, and I didn’t know what to do. I called another press agent who was a very good friend of mine and she says, “You’ve got to call all these critics directly.” I had never done anything like that before and it scared the crap out of me, but I realized actually there was a lot of respect in the theatre community for me, and I was like, “Wow, maybe if I’m feeling unheard I need to find a new way to speak about my work and put myself out there. And maybe it will be helpful to others as well.”

I believe in exactly what Kelundra is talking about, building out events. Talk about your play. Mention five other playwrights while you do it. Help everybody. I think we had similar tactics in different ways with the story. And I think both our stories are so captivating because, like Kelundra was saying, nobody knew these stories. Even in Alabama, when we did it with the students in a college right outside Huntsville. They didn’t know anything about this on any level. And I think what might drive us, too, is the importance of these stories getting out and how they speak to what we’re going through today.

I feel like we had people that, again, are interested in our voices and going the full mile, which is always a part of it. Playwrights, hang in there. Hang in there if you haven’t found that person yet. Or text me. It’s hard.

So, Constance Macy had just come into her role as Artistic Director for the Phoenix Theatre [in Indianapolis]. I was brought out to Bloomington to teach teens, and I texted Constance because I was like “Hey, I’m in Indiana.”

And she goes, “Oh my God, I’m here at the university. I’m around the corner.” So, we just got a coffee. And she’s like, “What are you working on?” I’d been working on The Rocket Men at that point for three years. I had gone through drafts and drafts. And it’s really exciting as a playwright when a play becomes your light, your passion, and you’re not even thinking kind of about where it goes in a way because it’s speaking to you. It’s saying, “You’ve got to tell the story. You’ve got to write this play.” She could see how passionate I was, not because I was pitching her the play but because I was just talking about it and it was clear it was my light.

And she goes, “That’s really fascinating. And women are playing the men? And then there’s this reveal? Wow.” I was like, “Oh, cool, she’s really into it.” And as she was talking, I was looking at her and I was thinking, “Oh my God, I think she’s Wernher von Braun.” So, then I said, “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to offend you, but I think you’re the major rocket scientist Nazi in my play.” [Laughter] And she was like, “What?” And I go, “I think you need to play Wernher von Braun.” And she was like, “Okay, okay, well, send me the script.”

That was the first time that she got to play a leading role at her own theatre. Artistic directors—the good ones—are humble and don’t want to do that, so I’m really proud she did that. It was a great premiere for me because the acting was so phenomenal. At one point, I got a call being like, “How’s your room?” And I go, “Why?” And they’re like, “Well, you know that every leading lady in Indianapolis is in your play, right?” And it’s true. They all loved each other, but they were passionately outspoken and it was wonderful. It was a great room of women.

And right now the play is in a separate production from the roll, but I’m getting the same texts. Women love creating work together. And that’s what I experienced when I saw Kelundra’s play. I saw such beautiful passion from these actors. I saw the whole team shine because when you get women together to work on something… I can’t even describe it. Tech is even different. There’s no ego. It’s like, “That doesn’t work. Cool. Awesome. I hear you. I’m going to fix that right now.” It isn’t like, “Well, my thing is better than your thing.” I don’t want to get too gendered, but it is a different ball game. It just is.

Kelundra Smith: True.

Crystal Skillman: Yeah.

Kelundra Smith: Very true.

Amelia French: Speaking of that bonus production, I’d love to hear, Kelundra, about your off-Broadway premiere during your roll.

Kelundra Smith: Yes. It was actually through the connection with the Black Rep. The Wash is part of a trilogy of plays that I’m writing about African American achievements in Reconstruction Era Georgia, and the commitment I have made with the Reconstruction Trilogy is that every production has to premiere at a Black theatre company. Meaning a Black theatre has to be co-producing, in the driver’s seat, as was the case with Synchronicity and Impact, where Brenda Porter was producing artistic director and was the director of the production. Or in the case of the Black Rep, which is an African American theatre at Washington University of St. Louis.

So, Elizabeth Van Dyke, who’s the artistic director of New Federal Theatre in New York, had heard about The Wash through Ron Himes, who’s the producing artistic director at the Black Rep. She reached out to me, asked to read the script, and she said to me, “Your play gave me the Holy Spirit. I want to produce it.” So we were off to the races.

I was a bit hesitant at first, because The Wash is very much a Southern story, but it has, I think, global resonance.

Crystal Skillman: I agree.

Kelundra Smith: But it is written in dialect, and I was a little bit scared of a New York production early in its birth, because I had seen enough bad Southern accents on stage that I was like, “Oh, God.”

So, I asked Elizabeth, “Can the actresses be from the South? And can I send you a list of directors I want?” My first choice was Awoye Timpo because I had seen her direct the show called Behind the Sheet at Ensemble Studio Theatre.

So, she got Awoye Timpo. And once you get Awoye, you get world-class artists. But I mean, New Federal is known for that anyway. This is the theatre that Phylicia Rashad, Denzel Washington… they have had stars on their stage.

It was so interesting because with that production, the actresses in the play were all like, “I went to school and they trained my accent out of me, and now I’m having to relearn how to speak the way I spoke when I was eighteen, and I’m being paid to do it.” Because when you’re from the South, when you go and get that actor training—especially if you go to universities in the South—your professors are telling you, “You’re not going to work with that accent.” You’ve got to learn how to put on this mid-Atlantic affectation and code switch and change the way you speak and change the way you enunciate or you’re never going to get work. Then these actresses have to get on stage and start speaking like their great-grandmothers and it’s a total mental switch for them.

But it was beautiful to see. And that off-Broadway production exceeded my expectations. New York also gave me a chance to try things I hadn’t tried in other productions. In my play there’s a lot of sheetography, as I call it, and they did moving walls. There was a chance to experiment with things in New York and see the play work in different spaces, different iterations, different configurations. We just won four AUDELCO Awards.

Crystal Skillman: One of the reasons why I got to see [The Wash] in Atlanta was that I was working at Horizon Theatre for the New South Young Playwrights Festival and we brought our students. Chisa Hutchinson was my co-teacher, and that’s where I first fell in love with the play and I saw that sheetography. I not only love the story and Kelundra’s voice, but that was brilliant.

Kelundra Smith: Thank you.

Amelia French: Crystal, you’re currently in rehearsals for the West Coast premiere, right? And you haven’t yet had your third rolling world premiere.

Crystal Skillman: Yeah. In a way I came in with extra information because I had always wanted to work with Synchronicity. Rachel May became just as passionate about The Rocket Men as Constance, and then also Timothy W. Scholl with Angels Theatre and Jamie Bullins. Their passion is also a part of what makes it so special.

Before I go on with that, though, I do have to say one of my favorite joyous stories. Open, which was my first off-Broadway production at WP Theater, was right after The Wash, and there was a little crossover with the audience where we’re teching. An audience member who had just seen The Wash was stuck in between a floor, because you have to take this elevator to a certain floor. I was going up and I was like, “Oh, do you need help or anything?” And she said, “I’m just thinking. I’ve seen something amazing and my heart feels so full.” I haven’t told Kelundra that story yet, so I wanted to tell it to her.

Kelundra Smith: Oh, wow.

Crystal Skillman: Isn’t that cool? And I was just like “Oh, man. I love that play, too.”

Kelundra Smith: The passion you talked about, Crystal, is so important. When I was writing The Wash—and I think you feel the same way about The Rocket Men—it was like, “This work has to be done whether it gets to a stage or not.” That was my mindset. I feel that way about the entire trilogy. I was writing and I said, “I don’t know if I will ever see this produced, but it needs to exist for some generation after me to find.” I felt that way about The Rocket Men, too. I was watching that show and—I’ve told Crystal this—I said, “I love seeing an audience squirm.” The thing about The Rocket Men is that there’s so much of our staunch sense of nationalism and America being the greatest country and the beacon on a hill that is wrapped up in Space Race lore. As an audience member, when you are sitting there and you realize Nazis did this and that people who were in concentration camps were forced to develop the technology that made it possible, there are these “Go America moments” that Crystal so smartly put in the play [where] the audience is like, “Oh, I can’t clap. I can’t cheer. Oh, I hate myself.” You’re in your seat like, “Ahhhhh!!!!”

Crystal Skillman: That was the goal of the play, to hold the two things at the same time. I don’t believe in canceling. I believe in history. I believe in examining why something happens and teaching the layers and asking why and how that dichotomy exists. Thank you, Kelundra.

As a playwrights, our stuff is called edgy. You’re unearthing things. We’ve got this light and we’re racing ahead. But I’m a human. We’re human. So, there’s a moment where it’s like running into a gladiator ring. And then you’re like, “Oh, shoot. I am a gladiator.”

I was like “Oh, this is going to open. People are going to come.” And I’m saying a lot of things that are maybe challenging to hear and that’s why there’s a big dose of humor in it. But yeah, you have a panic attack each time in each place

I’ve worked on musicals before, so I know the previews process really well, which we do not have other than Broadway, or off-Broadway, and even off-Broadway is not a lot of time for previews. I’ll rewrite during the day and I’ll actually be seeing something different at night. I can do this with the Rolling World Premiere model because after The Rocket Men opens at this one place, there is going to be another chance to see the changes I’m making. It’s not super significant all the time, but I’m taking notes. And if the actors and the team surprise me, I’ll be like, “Well, that’s got to stay in.” Then I’ll just go back to my room and put something back in or strike something out. Also, each director is giving you notes, which is great. You’re getting different perspectives and then you’re seeing different solves.

I know to be cautious when speaking to actors as well, because I used to talk about everything. I’d be like, “Well, I think your character, in the next version, I don’t know if they’re going to be there.” I used to say that kind of stuff and then the actors would walk away—and this is back in my downtown baby days, and the director would be like, “What did you say? Don’t do that!”

In the beginning I really just spoke a playwright’s language, but I worked with a really cool director named Daniel Talbot, and what would happen in the room is an actor would say, “I don’t know why I’m saying the next line.” And of course, I’m saying what every baby playwright does and every one of my early students will do, which is, “Because I wrote it. What are you talking about? You say the next line because I wrote the next line.” And he would turn to me and say, “They don’t understand emotionally how they got from this line to that line.”

And then I started to work that way, and I had that actor language better. And then with directors understood that a little bit better. You have to be a bit picky with directors, as Kelundra knows. So, I was learning that game a little bit better and was set up well to work with three different theaters with different sets of artists in some ways not just as a playwright but a “showrunner” of sorts.

This is the other thing that Kelundra probably experienced: it’s not like you’re seeing different versions of your play over six years. This is over a year or two, and because of that close proximity, your brain is able to connect certain things about the work and the craft and your Self isn’t coming in there, being like “Yeah, but I really like this line.” You’ve seen it with an audience, maybe a few times.

In Phoenix, their characters got very heated very quickly and really into that very intense style of acting. And in Atlanta, they played the subtle suppression of truth simmering to the top, keeping more of a Brechtian sensibility. It was awesome to see the difference. And both were fantastic.

I was noting, “Okay, I love all these styles. I want to make sure the beats are correct for either actor so they can live in them more.” So, I was looking to make sure the actor can have time in the scenes. And in one particular case, there was a big confrontation scene I cut down a little bit in Atlanta and realized, “No, it actually needs to go back to the way it was in Phoenix.”

Kelundra Smith: I think the rolling world premiere really does challenge you to ask yourself what needs to be on the stage and what am I comfortable being left open to interpretation? Being in different regions was great because in Atlanta, I was working with actors who knew the neighborhoods we were talking about, were familiar with the cuisine, the streets, the orientation of the city. In The Wash I write about Atlanta the way New York playwrights write about New York. New York playwrights don’t explain Harlem versus Washington Heights. They just write it with the assumption that everybody knows what they’re talking about because New York is everybody’s city. So, in The Wash I write 1881 Atlanta in the same way. References to the Fourth Ward and Summerhill versus Peachtree Street, all of these things are written without explanation.

It was funny, particularly in New York, where people were like, “So, what’s the distance from this place to this place?” I’m like, “You’re getting caught up on the wrong thing. But it’s two miles.” But then it was like, “Oh, for this to be a more effective line do I need to write that they walk two miles with laundry only to not be paid? Does that make it hit home with people more?” There are those sorts of insights that come from the questions that actors ask in the room, that directors ask in the room.

In the play there’s a lot of rhythm and musicality, and every production had a different interpretation. In Atlanta, there was a Civil Rights Movement vibe to the music, but in St. Louis they leaned into West African drumming and syncopation and that was really, really beautiful. Then in New York, they leaned into a bluesy, bluegrassy sort of vibe. There were repeated refrains and humming that they did. In Chicago, they picked one spiritual and that spiritual is done in different chunks and refrains throughout.

So, you learn those things along the way and you’re doing it, as Crystal said, in a pressure cooker. From the Atlanta production to St. Louis, I had a lot of time, but from St. Louis and Serenbe to New York to Chicago it was like boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.

Crystal Skillman: Yes. And you’re working with experts and so many great designers. And the audiences all over the country, they’re all different because of where they live. Maybe someone’s seeing a play for the first time. Maybe they’ve seen 50 plays. Maybe you note, “Oh, I think this theatre should actually do a little bit more outreach.” They’re just such different people and such different climates. And I’ve never had that experience before. Right, Kelundra? That was super cool.

Kelundra Smith: It’s so affirming to see a show work in different regions. I don’t know if you had this experience, Crystal, but with The Wash when you tell somebody, “I’ve got a comedy about a labor strike set in 1881 with a mostly Black woman cast,” people are like, “What the hell are you talking about?” Or if you say, “It’s inspired by the Atlanta Washerwoman Strike of 1881,” people automatically think this is going to be a depressing or sad story. There’s a whole lot of barriers that have to be broken down around people’s expectations of what an all-female work is, what a period piece is, and what a period piece about a specific community can be, which I think you and I have both done, right? The Rocket Men is unexpected. I think The Wash is unexpected. We’re upending people’s expectations.

Crystal Skillman: Yes.

Kelundra Smith: In my experience, audiences love having their expectations completely flipped. In Chicago, there were people who walked in off the street and were like, “What’s going on here? Oh, tickets are only $25? Okay, guess we’re seeing a play tonight.” And then they have the best time. And that’s the beauty of seeing it done in different cities, is that you realize the story hits people the same way in different regions of the country, different races, different religions, different backgrounds. That’s why we do what we do.

Crystal Skillman: Absolutely. That was so beautiful the way you said that.

Especially dealing with America and knowing the progress we have made and need to keep bringing forward, and [the] progress we haven’t [made] and have to change. I think, Kelundra, you’ve been doing this, too. I think we’re talking so much about these plays and this work and this experience and are excited when people want to amplify our voices because it is encouraging for theatre artists to hear these stories about how theatre matters. And sometimes a friend goes to Broadway and that’s great and they’re having their own journey. Sometimes a playwright is getting an NNPN world premiere. Sometimes they get a commission but not a production. We’re all in different places as writers.

This is an important craft. Find your partners, get your work out there, and maybe help put it on yourself because it affects people. And people are craving this. That is what I found, Kelundra. I think you found this, too, with the folks who came off the street. People are craving connection and they’re craving community and they’re craving live actors. They are scared about AI. I mean, look, the people who love AI and want to buy an Elon Musk car, they’re not coming to my play. Maybe by accident. Maybe they got fooled or tricked. But we are reaching people in the middle and throughout the country who may not be as liberal as we are, whatever that word means now, may not be exactly in our world or our sphere, but they’re there. And that’s exciting, too. It’s a way of communication. It’s a way of cutting through a debate and living through an experience and seeing where they come out.

Kelundra Smith: So many people have said to me, “Gosh, why didn’t I learn this in school?” I can’t tell you how many times they say that. The awareness of how what we’re taught shapes how we see things and knowing that they’re missing part of the narrative. I always say my twenty-year-old Godsister is always my first audience, because if she and her friends like something, or something resonates with them, then I know it works. In every city we’ve been in, I’ve been very intentional that we’ve got to get high school and college students in here. For me, engaging students is important if we’re going to be filling in the gaps historically, as Crystal has done so beautifully with The Rocket Men. Like I said, I love watching an audience squirm, and on opening night of The Rocket Men in Atlanta, that audience didn’t know what to do with themselves. They wanted to be happy that the rocket made it to the moon, but they were also like, “Oh, no, the rocket made it to the moon.” [Laughter]

Crystal Skillman: I’m glad you said it, because I was feeling it.

Kelundra Smith: The Wash it is a bit different. The audience doesn’t necessarily squirm, but there are three points in the play where I can see if I got them. One is when the women go door to door to collect the money and they don’t get paid, you hear the gasps audibly.

I want people, with The Wash in particular, to be inspired to advocate for themselves in their own lives. These women did the modern-day equivalent of throwing a laptop out the window. I want people to be inspired to throw their proverbial laptops out the window.

But also, I want theatres to take more chances on new work, to see what Crystal is doing with The Rocket Men, to see what The Wash is doing. These plays are not stopping after these rolling world premieres. She has had an additional production. I had an additional production. I’ve got two productions in 2026 and one already in 2027.

Take risks on new work. I don’t want to hear you don’t have the money. I don’t want to hear we can’t do a six-person cast. I don’t want to hear, “We’re scared that it won’t sell.” We have proof of concept. Crystal’s play is captivating people. It’s getting audiences, as she was saying, from different political spheres and all walks of life and making people ask questions. Produce it. Then do it for somebody else, because we’re not the only ones telling stories that haven’t been told before. There are other playwrights.

Back in 2021, Horizon Theatre in Atlanta commissioned nine plays by Black women playwrights in the South through a cohort called Black Women Speak, which was also funded by the National New Play Network. There are nine plays by Black women in the South that have yet to be produced. My play Other Paths to God will be the first one in October 2026, but all of the plays are telling stories that are interesting, insightful, funny, and need to be told. New work is worth the risk, and audience members are craving it, as Crystal was saying. We need to get back to blowing people’s minds in the American theatre. We’ve gotten away from it, and we need to get back to that. If I’m going to pay $50 for a ticket, blow my mind.

Crystal Skillman: I love that. I think it’s so beautiful. In this timeline, that’s the best thing we can do, is be blowing minds. So, be a part of it.

The other thing you can’t say is “Where are all the playwrights? I can’t find them.” That’s BS.

In musicals I always knew that you have to show people. That’s how West Side Story was done. You write some songs and some scenes and you get people in and you share it. A lot of people say they don’t have time to read scripts, don’t put in the time to read scripts, or don’t want to have coffees with you—which is totally insane, and that should be part of your every day, to be quite honest, if you’re an artistic director. But you can understand a play, a scene, a song, if you see it.

In many ways our work is being understood on a different level because we have productions and several different kinds of productions with the same story to show them. It’s tried and true. And when something becomes more tried and true, people do take more of a risk. And it should be noted the people who took a risk from the very beginning when they just read our script. We’ll always have a sweet spot for those people, because they are the true visionaries in many ways.