Artistic Statement

In second grade, I was assigned an autobiography for my English class. Despite the fact that I grew up in Detroit immediately after the race riots and had plenty of horror stories to tell even at the ripe old age of seven, my autobiography read pretty darn vanilla. Better to keep things pleasant, I was taught, so my first autobiography is a laundry-list of boring facts - the names of my brothers and sisters, my mom’s and dad's job, and the hospital in which I was born. One detail, however, in my less than scintillating memoir stood out: I wanted to be a puppeteer when I grew up, which was unusual in a sea of doctors, teachers and auto factory workers. Apparently, making big money was never a high priority.

As a puppeteer, I thought, the story is yours and you are all the characters, at least at the point in which you develop it. Growing up in Detroit at that time, a city pulsating with racial and economic tension, where a young kid needed negotiate challenging tensions and high crime - this kind of control seemed highly attractive.

Also, the two talents I knew I had from an early age were verbal memory for what people said and a strong imagination. I could quite frequently soak up what my family or friends told me and remind them of their exact words. This is a skill that, as a youngest child, can be incredibly useful and annoying.

I am the youngest in a big Catholic family of scientists and mathematicians who are not always comfortable expressing themselves: pocket-protector types with big hearts who read a lot but tend to communicate a bit indirectly. I’m sure my post depression-era parents had discomfort with discussing the “ugly” and “dangerous” world I sometimes experienced as a child, but they did still managed to teach me love, wisdom, and compassion—a kind of hope for the future.

You were wondering what all this has to do with my plays. So here it is: I’m fascinated with what people don't say- what they hide. I'm fascinated with miscommunication, prejudice and fear and how these things cause humans to hide their true identities and past pains. Sometimes in a dangerous world hiding is the only way to protect yourself. So whether I am writing drama or comedy, my characters struggle to overcome their fears and prejudices so that they can discover their true selves and learn to more directly communicate to the world around them. I still view the world as dangerous but also full of good people, angels of sorts, who help you along the way. I hope my plays reflect that world.

Barbara Lhota

Artistic Statement

In second grade, I was assigned an autobiography for my English class. Despite the fact that I grew up in Detroit immediately after the race riots and had plenty of horror stories to tell even at the ripe old age of seven, my autobiography read pretty darn vanilla. Better to keep things pleasant, I was taught, so my first autobiography is a laundry-list of boring facts - the names of my brothers and sisters, my mom’s and dad's job, and the hospital in which I was born. One detail, however, in my less than scintillating memoir stood out: I wanted to be a puppeteer when I grew up, which was unusual in a sea of doctors, teachers and auto factory workers. Apparently, making big money was never a high priority.

As a puppeteer, I thought, the story is yours and you are all the characters, at least at the point in which you develop it. Growing up in Detroit at that time, a city pulsating with racial and economic tension, where a young kid needed negotiate challenging tensions and high crime - this kind of control seemed highly attractive.

Also, the two talents I knew I had from an early age were verbal memory for what people said and a strong imagination. I could quite frequently soak up what my family or friends told me and remind them of their exact words. This is a skill that, as a youngest child, can be incredibly useful and annoying.

I am the youngest in a big Catholic family of scientists and mathematicians who are not always comfortable expressing themselves: pocket-protector types with big hearts who read a lot but tend to communicate a bit indirectly. I’m sure my post depression-era parents had discomfort with discussing the “ugly” and “dangerous” world I sometimes experienced as a child, but they did still managed to teach me love, wisdom, and compassion—a kind of hope for the future.

You were wondering what all this has to do with my plays. So here it is: I’m fascinated with what people don't say- what they hide. I'm fascinated with miscommunication, prejudice and fear and how these things cause humans to hide their true identities and past pains. Sometimes in a dangerous world hiding is the only way to protect yourself. So whether I am writing drama or comedy, my characters struggle to overcome their fears and prejudices so that they can discover their true selves and learn to more directly communicate to the world around them. I still view the world as dangerous but also full of good people, angels of sorts, who help you along the way. I hope my plays reflect that world.