In their shoes: Answering the ‘immortal question’ of what is a dramaturge?

When “The Nacirema Society” opens at the Guthrie on Saturday, theatergoers won’t see Carla Steen’s name splashed atop the playbill.

They actually won’t see her at all.

Steen’s been working at the regional theater for 27 years but remains an enigma to most in the seats. To those on the stage or behind the curtains, her presence is invaluable.

The 55-year-old St. Paul native is a dramaturge, a somewhat hard-to-define role in a world where actors act, stage managers manage and directors direct.

“I would say that 90 percent of the time when I introduce myself as a dramaturge, I have to explain what that is,” Steen said. “Even inside the theater, a lot of people don’t know.”

She’s part literary analyst, breaking down the meaning of the writing itself. She’s also part historian, researching not only what life was like in whatever time the play takes place but also what was going on in the world when the playwright composed the work. That knowledge ensures the final product on opening night is authentic and true to the intended artistic vision.

Getting there, though, is a hunt. Steen combs through the script and notes areas to research further. She browses databases, journals and historical newspapers at various St. Paul libraries.

“Not getting lost in the rabbit holes is actually a pretty big challenge of the job,” Steen said. “[It’s about] trying to figure out what’s actually useful in the rehearsal room and what I just find really interesting.”

Her tucked-away cubicle at the Guthrie has dozens of Polaroid photographs, flyers and theater memorabilia decorating the walls. Her second workplace is the small Guthrie library, an unassuming entrance in the middle of a hallway that opens to a half-century’s worth of books, archived programs and print materials.

In an interview edited for clarity and length, Steen tells us what it’s like to be in her shoes:

Somebody who loves stories and likes to help others realize the vision in the stories they are telling. I’m helping somebody else realize a vision, whether it’s a director thinking about how to deliver a play or an actor puzzling through the text and trying to figure out what a line means. This job isn’t for somebody who wants to be in the limelight.

If you ask 10 dramaturges about what a dramaturge does, you’ll get 10 different answers. I’m the person who sets the text of a play in context. For the text part, I dive deeply into understanding how the play is put together, line by line, no matter who wrote the play. For the context part, I study the play within the context of the playwright’s whole body of work, and if the play’s a period piece, I study the economic, historical and social references in the play to get a better sense of what the play meant when it was written and what then echoes across time to us today. I keep track of the storytelling and clarity elements: What am I getting from the storytelling? Are there any notes I can give the director to make the play a little clearer?

It depends on whether I’m in rehearsal for a show, and right now I am. Usually, I get the rehearsal schedule the night before, so I didn’t know what today’s schedule looked like until about 7 p.m. last night. I found that the actors would be stumbling through the first act at noon. That’s when they start to tell the story, putting all the pieces together. It’s very, very early, so I just wanted to see the shape of the first act. I organize everything else in my day around that schedule.

I usually work on a play I haven’t worked on before. A brand new play, a brand new mountain to climb. I love working on multiple plays by the same playwright, though. I’ve worked on “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” twice, and I’ve worked on “Hamlet” twice.

I usually work on four or five plays each season. But I also have literary-management responsibilities. I’m always reading plays that people submit to us and ones that we’re thinking about producing in subsequent seasons. Reading plays is an ongoing, backburner thing throughout the year.

Sometimes I realize a moment in one play is similar to a moment in this other unrelated play. It’s fun and weird. In “The Nacirema Society,” the play I’m currently working on that opens later this month, somebody misdates a letter, and the false date becomes the giveaway that the letter is not genuine. A similar thing happens in Henrik Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House.” Nora misdates her IOU.

These two plays have nothing to do with each other – one’s a comedy, and one’s a drama – yet they share the same major plot point. And it’s just a joy finding the things that bind stories together, bind people together and help build a picture of the world.