Things I Know to Be True

Directors’ Note (from the progarm)

Let’s talk about my mom.

Mom, Dad, me, and my brother Daniel sat high up in the bleachers at the Las Vegas Convention Center, listening to Michael, brother number 2, play trombone during his 6th grade Concert Under the Rotunda and Battle of the Bands. He was great, I guess – who remembers? But a fleeting moment following the final strains of the “Theme from Star Wars” ended up defining my mom and her status in the midst of this family of strong-willed, self-satisfied Kucan men. We were all of us making our way through the roiling crowd, jostled and jangled by hundreds of anxious parents and giddy musical proteges, when Mom sort of corralled us all, grabbed our hands, and announced quite seriously, “Be careful. If we don’t stay together we’re going to get separated.” We laughed ourselves blue and never, ever, ever, not-once ever let her forget it. It became our family motto; it was enshrined in Latin, in fact, on the portrait of all five of us that still hangs over the fireplace in my parents’ house: Si non simul iens ut separentur. If we don’t stay together, we’re going to get separated. And we did stay together, through that squeaky concert in 1979 and for the many decades since. Then, on November 26, 2020, after a long decline into the fog of dementia and the slow deterioration of what I truly believe was terminal malaise, we stopped being together. My mom died and we were a family changed.

This is the first show I’ve worked on as a director since my mother’s passing, and although the significance of that fact may become abundantly clear to you as you follow this family’s story, it’s only just lately occurred to me that my connection to this play is deeper than I originally intended, planned, or understood.

The Price family is in transition. After 30+ years of marriage, Fran and Bob have weathered all manner of typical familial development; their four children have grown and matured, entered adulthood, and faced significant challenges of their own. But with each passing season, the stresses on this family continue to grow and intensify, challenging their substantial bonds even as their connections to each other as a family are reassured. There is tremendous love here: unconditional and familiar, if not always obvious; poetic and lyrical, if not always graceful. The Prices can be fierce and they can sometimes be furious. But they are very, very familiar.

This play is dedicated to the memory of our mother: Genevieve Anna Kucan, 1938-2020. She was a lover of literature and of theatre, but beyond all of that, she profoundly loved her family. We may no longer be together, but we will never be separated.

JK with A-MP, April 2022