True Fake

"Credeaux Canvas"

Review by Curt Holman, Creative Loafing

You can almost feel Atlanta Classical Theatre's delight in decorating the set of The Credeaux Canvas. Keith Bunin's comedy-drama takes place in the tiny attic apartment of impoverished New Yorkers, and every detail is perfect: the hot plate, the stacks of empty pizza boxes, the arty postcards over the unmade bed, the rec room wall paneling.
Canvas finds humor in the plight of poor artists: "Did you get a clean glass from the tub?" But it also shows keen insights into the emotional risks of devotion, whether to art or to other people.
Jamie (Theroun Patterson), the penniless son of an art dealer, comes up with a get-rich quick scheme: to have his art-school roommate Winston (Topher Payne) paint an original work in the style of Jean-Paul Credeaux, a long-dead (and fictional) painter sure to be the next big thing. Jamie will pass the forgery off as a "discovery" to a credulous art collector (Michele McCullough).
What complicates the play isn't Jamie and Winston's fraud, but their friendship, especially when Jamie suggests that his girlfriend Amelia (Kimberly Jurgen) be the model. The tension in the nude posing scene is both erotic and comic, especially when Winston offers to make her more comfortable by removing his clothes. But as Amelia quizzes Winston about his work and his love life, the artist begins to feel "revealed." The scene has an intriguing dynamic of exposure and intimacy, although admittedly the talk would be less interesting if the actors were fully dressed.
Payne seems to play most of his roles in the same mild-mannered style, but it's a rewarding choice for Winston. By playing the part as sheltered and tentative, Payne makes the character seem unsure of his own feelings, as if he's not as remote as he'd like to be. The Credeaux Canvas pushes the humor a little hard but proves a surprisingly poignant drama, with Winston, who avoids emotional entanglements, turning his own self-portrait into a still life.

His Family Still Going to the Beach

Now they sit in the audience for play 'Beached Wails'
BY SANDRA OKAMOTO, Columbus Ledger-Enquirer

Topher Payne sat nervously in the technicians' booth.
It was a year ago, and about 40 of the playwright's relatives had come from Mississippi to watch the premiere of "Beached Wails" in Atlanta.
"On opening night, I sat in the booth and I was able to observe both shows -- one on the stage and one in the audience," said Payne, 23. After watching that run, he immediately went to work and rewrote the second act. That version premiered in Atlanta in October.
"It was a new play," he said. "It's done for now."
"Beached Wails" is now playing in the Garret Theatre of the Playwright Cafe -- its first run outside of Atlanta.
"We're thrilled about it," Payne said.
For as long as Payne can remember, his mother and her three sisters would go to the beach every year. That week "was as firmly rooted as Christmas. When I grew up, I was surprised other families didn't do that."
He was intrigued about the four sisters' trips. "The way they talked and communicated with each other" made him want to be a fly on the wall.
Asked if he'd ever been on one of those trips, the answer came quickly: "Good Lord, no."
The motto in his family is that the play is "loosely based" on the four sisters. "My mother is very quick to point that out," Payne said.
His mother and his aunts liked the play very much. "They tease each other," he reports. "Every time a character gets a laugh, they take credit for it."
Payne attended boarding schools in Connecticut and California -- the Taft School in Watertown, Conn., and Idyllwild Arts Academy in Idyllwild, Calif. "They could not have been more divergent," he said. "Taft School was more 'Dead Poets Society' and Idyllwild was 'Fame.' I was this lanky Mississippi boy taking it all in."
But he says he didn't learn to write in school. He was much younger when he started writing and performing.
"I will always remember my stage debut," he said. "I played a sparrow in the church Christmas play. I had one line but couldn't remember it. I was 4. The first thing I ever wrote was my own version of 'A Christmas Carol.' "
When he was in sixth grade, his parents bought him a video camera. "It was one of the greatest things for me, but one of the dumbest things for them because they had to sit through hours of my movies."
He said he has a "gloriously extended family," and his "endless number of cousins" became actors in his movies. Even then, he didn't have enough people. So he dressed up mannequins and disguised his own voice and turned the dummies around so people couldn't see that it wasn't a real person.
"I was a very odd child, but it all worked out in the end."

Living for Today

Young gay playwright talks about his latest works, sheds light on motivation to live life to the fullest.
Topher Payne, a 22-year-old playwright, balances a part-time job with productions of two plays and pursuing his dreams at breakneck speed.

By Mike Fleming, Southern Voice

To approach Topher Payne as he holds court behind the counter at Outwrite Books & Coffeehouse is to be greeted warmly with wit, sensitivity and intelligence — hints that there is something deeper stirring beneath.
In fact, the young coffee slinger is also a playwright in a whirlwind of activity in the local theater scene, including two current shows.
It's possible right now to be out on the town for an entire day of "non-stop Topher theater," Payne says.
And that's all part of Payne's plan to realize his dreams, he says.
"I've always been taught that if you're not doing what you were placed on this Earth to do, you are wasting your life," Payne says. "I have always believed that nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough."
Not bad for a high school drop out who has been on his own since age 15.
"It's not age that matters," he says. "It's experience."
That experience includes theater work in his home state of Mississippi and director of audience development at Woodruff Arts Center.
He decided to move on and take the job at Outwrite to give himself the time he needs to work on his craft.
Payne's comedy "Beached Wails" is enjoying "small but enthusiastic" audiences in a world-premiere production by Atlanta Classical Theatre. The show is the story of four Southern sisters and how they deal with adversity. It runs for an additional two weeks.
The play is based on Payne's own mother and aunts, who will attend the Nov. 1 performance.
"When I was growing up, I was fascinated just listening to them talk," Payne says. "It wasn't just what they said, but how they were saying it, and I think that comes off in this show."
"Beached Wails" is in part a response to another well loved Southern play about women, "Steel Magnolias," Payne says.
"Of course I'm aware of and love 'Steel Magnolias' like every other Southern gay man," he says. "But there were not really a lot of tough choices in that show. The thing I love about the women in 'Beached' is that they are all incredible women and they are all marvelously flawed."
While "Beached" runs, Payne's just-for-fun show "Solid Gold! That '70s Cabaret," shows in connection with Process Theatre Company.
In the show, Payne plays Cher circa the 1970s, Sonny Bono ("not at the same time," Payne assures), Brad Majors from "Rocky Horror" and a mystery character whose presence is a surprise in the show.
So how does a 22-year-old not only know what he wants, but how to pursue it?
"I've always taken chances," Payne says.
Payne will step back from stage work after "That 70s Cabaret" and devote more time to writing plays. His adaptation of "Cyrano," set in the 1960s, opens in March with Atlanta Classical Theatre. Four plays he's still writing should come to fruition next year.
"We have to take advantage of the time we're given," Payne says. "I could... be hit by a bus tomorrow. We have to approach things realistically and say 'This is what we're going to do with the time we have."

Wailing Wall

Beached Wails airs sisterly conflicts
by Curt Holman,

Creative Loafing

Perhaps young playwright Topher Payne can be forgiven for the terrible pun in his title Beached Wails. Writing in the tired subgenre of the Southern women dramedy, a la Steel Magnolias, Payne offers a reasonably original and well-observed work that currently plays on "off nights" on the 14th Street Playhouse's second stage, where Atlanta Classical Theatre is also presenting The Coast of Illyria by Dorothy Parker and Ross Evans.
Directed by Sonny Goff, Wails depicts the loving but fractious relationship of four sisters: matronly Virgie (Leigh McClelland), caustic widow Brenda (Kathy Simmons), "saved" Christian Katie (Julie Oshins) and working mother Dana (Jennifer Gaydeski). They're enjoying their annual vacation to Gulf Shores, but Hurricane Louis threatens to cut their trip short.
Inclement weather closes the roads and strands the women in a beach house with an amiable, 21-year-old underwear model (Scott Shelfer), who wears gratuitously little and bends over a lot (in a gesture at equal exposure, Dana frequently shows off her legs). The tradition for this kind of play is for each character to have a deep-seated problem to air out, but Brenda's is rather surprising, as she believes the hurricane might be a sign from her late husband -- who was also named Louis.
Given that the play involves a hurricane, it shouldn't be a surprise that the speeches can get a little windy, while savage arguments blow up with insufficient warning. But the four actresses have an easy chemistry with each other, comfortably delivering Payne's quips about pain-in-the-neck husbands, prayer circles and useless wedding presents. But Beached Wails could use a more definitive ending: Closing the show with the sisters miming along to a Supremes song seems like an idea of last resort.

To Sleep or Not To Sleep

By Shannon Wilder, Catalyst Magazine

In case you’re laboring under the delusion that Atlanta suffers from a lack of theater talent, you should spend a day — literally — with the producers, actors and directors of The 24-Hour Plays. It’s a headlong leap into the manic soul of the creative process.
The 24-Hour Plays are just that: plays completely created and produced in 24 hours. The first eight hours are dedicated to the writers who, fueled by a variety of (legal) stimulants, team up to pen entire (albeit 12-minute-long) plays. Hard on their heels are the directors, who have a few moments to familiarize themselves with the works before casting actors and spending the rest of the day rehearsing. The shows go on at 9:00 p.m. and by 11:00 p.m., exactly 24 hours after it began, the day is over.
There’s a reason the producers use the tagline “Embrace the Chaos.” Here’s a rundown:

11:00 p.m.: Still sporting a fetching plaid polyester pantsuit — the costume from a play in which she’s currently appearing — Synchronicity Performance Group’s Julie Oshins offers the 16 writers goodies — magnets, crayons, bubble blowing solution, etc. — from a brown paper sack. There are two of each; writers drawing the same item become partners. Topher Payne and Marc Cram hit it off immediately and are spouting ideas before other pairs have even figured out where to sit. Payne, who runs a daycare center, has written for The 24-Hour Plays three times, acted twice and directed once. Cram, who manages the Zoo Atlanta gift shop, is a veteran (once acting, once writing) and co-author of The Zurich Plays, a 1997 hit that was restaged this April at Dad’s Garage. He says the 24-hour process is good for him. “I’ve spent years writing plays that never got finished,” he says. “But this allows me to focus deeply. By staying up all night, I can produce something worth seeing.”

12:15 a.m.: Ensconced in a dressing room, Payne and Cram are bouncing ideas off one another, fueled by a bottle of black currant grappa and two bags of potato chips. Cram thought the grappa would hasten the creative process; instead it’s making his lips stick together. That’s a liability for a pair that talks as much as these two do. Payne says they hit on their topic pretty quickly — a takeoff on reality-based TV shows titled The Last Temptation of Survivor pitting Benito Mussolini, Marilyn Monroe, Alexander the Great and Jeffrey Dahmer against Don King, Mother Teresa, Elizabeth Taylor and Willie Nelson for a trip to Heaven and a new Ford Taurus. Satan and Kathie Lee Gifford emcee.

1:30 a.m.: Taking a smoke break — nicotine is a popular fuel source around here — Payne and Cram are hashing out plot details. The Survivor-like tribal warfare, says Payne, will center on games such as Twister and a three-legged race. Their original idea called for a sack race, but they changed out of consideration for directors. Had they left it in, someone would be spending their Sunday morning searching for sacks. Or, more likely, the director would have yanked the scene. They can do that. One set of writers noted on their cover page that the work should be presented more seriously than campy. “See that line,” the director said to his actors at rehearsal, “I want you to take your pens and mark it out. Completely.”

8:00 a.m.: Directors gather in the theater and choose scripts from Oshins’ outstretched hand. They begin to read. Some laugh, some groan. Marc Cram sidles up to Kate Warner, director of Last Temptation, and hands her a list of actors he and Payne want cast. Though Oshins technically handed over the reins to Synchronicity day producer Michele Pearce at this point, she opts to stay for casting.

8:30 a.m.: Casting begins. Head shots for 60 actors are on the rehearsal room table. Directors number off from one to eight and pick accordingly; the last one choosing twice and then working back down the line. Those who need two or three actors are done in minutes. For Warner, who has 10 actors to cast, the process is somewhat longer. Though one of her choices draws a groan of disappointment, no one gets nasty. Instead they trade or share — Warner is splitting Randy Cohlina with another director. The actor’s mischievous, diabolical look makes him perfect for Last Temptation’s Jeffrey Dahmer and another play’s Satan.

9:30 a.m.: Warner seeks a scantily clad young man for the final scene of Last Temptation. Someone mentions Mirlis has just cast one who might be willing to take on both roles, because he has virtually no lines. Topher Payne has returned after a few hours of downtime and is wandering the theater desperately seeking the director who cast him. He’s talked to everyone, but he can’t figure out who it is.

9:45 a.m.: Actors are flooding into the building with suitcases and makeup bags in tow, and rehearsals are beginning in hallways and classrooms throughout the former school building in which Horizon is housed. Payne bounds into the third-floor classroom where director Kate Warner is waiting for the cast of Last Temptation to appear. He’s been cast as Mussolini in his own play and he’s wondering if he’ll have time to dart home later and re-watch Tea With Mussolini to get an idea of how the little dictator, um, dictates.

3:30 p.m.: Horizon’s matinee of The Bible goes on; rehearsing groups try to get out of the way. Nevertheless, patrons inevitably encounter actors declaiming about photography, stupid man tricks and the unbearable lightness of being Jeffrey Dahmer.

11:00 p.m.: Last Temptation comes to a close as Mother Teresa saves Jeffrey Dahmer’s soul by prohibiting him from touching Seiling, who’s back in his boy-toy getup and slathered with chocolate syrup. The entire company comes out for a bow, and friends and family swarm them offering hugs and congratulations. Moments later, actors are downstairs in the rehearsal room swigging beer, putting on their street clothes and feeling both elated and despondent that it’s over. Meanwhile, Jeffrey Dahmer is presumably driving off to Heaven in that brand new Ford Taurus while Mother Teresa learns the true meaning of venal sin.

All In a Day's Work

Best of the 24-Hour Plays benefits from its selectivity
By Curt Holman, Creative Loafing

...Clint Thornton and Topher Payne provide an even more satisfying spoof on Irish nostalgia with "Ashes to Ashes, Spud to Spud," placing Hansel and Gretel (Justin Welborn and Alison Hastings) in the midst of the keening and genuflecting of the great potato famine.