The Theater of Vulnerability: Why La Jolla Playhouse’s DNA Series Matters More Than Ever
Theater, at its core, is about connection. It’s about stripping away the noise and focusing on the raw, unfiltered human experience. That’s why, when I heard about La Jolla Playhouse’s DNA New Work Series returning for its 13th year, I wasn’t just intrigued—I was excited. What makes this particularly fascinating is that this year, the series is under the stewardship of a new artistic director, Jessica Stone. And let me tell you, this isn’t just a bureaucratic change; it’s a seismic shift in how we think about nurturing new voices in theater.
A New Vision, A New Era
Jessica Stone, a two-time Tony Award-nominated director, steps into this role at a pivotal moment. Her predecessor, Christopher Ashley, left big shoes to fill after 18 years. But Stone isn’t just stepping into those shoes—she’s redefining what they stand for. In my opinion, her eagerness to expand the playhouse’s commitment to developing new works is exactly what the theater world needs right now. Theater, after all, is a living, breathing art form, and it thrives on innovation.
What many people don’t realize is that the DNA series isn’t just about showcasing new plays; it’s about creating a safe space for vulnerability. The stripped-down format—no elaborate sets, no costumes, just actors and their scripts—forces the audience to focus on the essence of the story. It’s theater in its purest form, and it’s a reminder that at its heart, storytelling is about connection.
The Philosophy Behind the Series
Gabriel Greene, the playhouse’s director of artistic development, describes the series’ philosophy as threefold: matching resources with developing projects, expanding relationships with artists, and bringing audiences deeper into the creative process. Personally, I think this is where the magic happens. Theater is often seen as a finished product, but the DNA series pulls back the curtain, inviting us into the messy, beautiful process of creation.
One thing that immediately stands out is Greene’s mention of ‘development hell.’ It’s a term that resonates deeply in the arts world. So many plays get stuck in endless readings without ever seeing the light of production. The DNA series is a lifeline, offering not just resources but a pathway to realization. If you take a step back and think about it, this is what makes the series so vital—it’s not just about the plays; it’s about the playwrights.
This Year’s Selections: A Mirror to Our Times
This year’s lineup—Rockville, Mother’s Day, Artney Jackson, and Evil Diva—is a testament to the series’ commitment to diverse voices. What this really suggests is that theater is still one of the most powerful mediums for exploring the human condition. Each play tackles themes that feel urgently relevant: loneliness, reproductive issues, workplace struggles, and intense familial relationships.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Greene’s observation that these plays delve into one-on-one relationships in a ‘molecular’ way. It’s a brilliant way to describe how these works dissect the complexities of human connection. In a world where we’re increasingly isolated—despite being more ‘connected’ than ever—these stories feel like a necessary antidote.
Why May Matters
The decision to move the series from December to May is more than just a scheduling change. From my perspective, it’s a strategic move to make the event more accessible. December, with its holiday frenzy, is a challenging time for both artists and audiences. May, on the other hand, feels like a breath of fresh air—a moment when we can all pause and engage with something meaningful.
This raises a deeper question: How do we prioritize art in our lives? The shift to May is a reminder that theater isn’t just entertainment; it’s a form of communal reflection. And in a world that often feels fragmented, that sense of community is more important than ever.
The Future of Theater: A Call to Action
As I reflect on the DNA series, I’m struck by its potential to shape the future of theater. The plays that emerge from this series—like All the Men Who’ve Frightened Me and The Who & The What—go on to become full productions, some even winning prestigious awards. But what’s truly remarkable is the ripple effect. These works don’t just entertain; they challenge, provoke, and inspire.
In my opinion, the DNA series is a blueprint for how theaters everywhere should be operating. It’s not enough to just produce plays; we need to nurture the artists behind them. We need to create spaces where vulnerability is celebrated, where failure is part of the process, and where the audience is an active participant in the journey.
Final Thoughts
As the curtains rise on this year’s DNA New Work Series, I can’t help but feel a sense of optimism. Theater, at its best, is a mirror to society—and right now, we need that mirror more than ever. The series isn’t just about the plays; it’s about the conversations they spark, the connections they foster, and the futures they shape.
So, if you’re in La Jolla this May, I urge you to attend. Not just as an audience member, but as a participant in something much larger. Because when we support new works, we’re not just supporting theater—we’re supporting the very act of human expression. And in a world that often feels chaotic, that’s a pretty powerful thing.
To reserve your spot, visit lajollaplayhouse.org/dna-2026. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
