Diary: Abby Rosebrock, Playwriting as Labor and Literature

Layla Khoshnoudi and Abby Rosebrock in Abby Rosebrock’s Dido of Idaho, directed by Mikhaela Mahony, at the Ensemble Studio Theater. Photo by Gerry Goodstein

When Covid banished live audiences last spring, most of my colleagues in New York theater joined in a collective scramble to keep doing some form of our thing. Everyone seemed caught up in a swirl of motivations to keep working: escapism, habit, careerism, loneliness, love—drives that are hard to lock down, especially for people constitutionally disposed to defy reality. The result, especially before unions negotiated agreements for streaming live theater, was a virtual frenzy of volunteer busy-ness. Most people were in dire financial straits but found time to talk shop, make videos, act in Zoom readings, envision a more just industry, and collaborate on new projects. Some of these endeavors—surprisingly, given the limitations of streaming—were potent and beautiful.