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. But this isn’t just another season of new plays; it’s a moment of transition, a passing of the torch from one artistic vision to another. And personally, I think that’s what makes this iteration so fascinating.
A New Visionary at the Helm
Jessica Stone, the Playhouse’s new artistic director, steps into a role that’s both daunting and exhilarating. Taking over from Christopher Ashley, who helmed the Playhouse for nearly two decades, Stone inherits a legacy of innovation. But what’s immediately striking is her enthusiasm for the DNA Series. In her own words, it’s about engaging patrons with writers at their most vulnerable—a stage of creativity where ideas are still malleable and risks are high. This isn’t just about producing plays; it’s about fostering a community of artists who lean on each other to crack the codes of storytelling.
What many people don’t realize is how rare this kind of space is in the theater world. Most new works get stuck in what Gabriel Greene, the series curator, calls ‘development hell.’ Readings happen, but full productions? Those are a rarity. The DNA Series, however, is designed to bridge that gap, providing resources and a platform for plays that are still finding their voice.
The Plays: A Reflection of Our Times
This year’s lineup—Rockville, Mother’s Day, Artney Jackson, and Evil Diva—is a masterclass in intimacy. Each play dives into one-on-one relationships, but what’s particularly fascinating is how they mirror broader societal anxieties. Loneliness, reproductive struggles, workplace tensions, and familial conflicts—these aren’t just themes; they’re the pulse of our collective consciousness.
Take Rockville, for example. Steven Levenson’s exploration of a tentative friendship between two isolated characters feels eerily timely in an age where connection often feels fleeting. Or Evil Diva, where a woman’s transformation into a monster becomes a metaphor for the pressures we face in a world that demands perfection. If you take a step back and think about it, these plays aren’t just stories—they’re conversations we’re all having, whether we realize it or not.
Why May Matters
One detail that I find especially interesting is the shift from December to May for this year’s readings. On the surface, it’s a logistical change—December is hectic, after all. But what this really suggests is a deeper commitment to accessibility. By moving the event to May, the Playhouse is making it easier for both artists and audiences to engage. It’s a small change, but it speaks volumes about Stone’s vision for inclusivity.
The Future of New Work
What this series really highlights is the importance of nurturing new voices. In a world where commercial theater often dominates, initiatives like the DNA Series are lifelines for emerging playwrights. Personally, I’m thrilled to see Stone’s commitment to expanding this mission. Her eagerness to bring new artists into the fold isn’t just refreshing—it’s essential.
If there’s one thing that immediately stands out, it’s how the DNA Series has already propelled future Playhouse productions, from Noah Diaz’s All the Men Who’ve Frightened Me to Ayad Akhtar’s The Who & The What. This isn’t just a developmental program; it’s a launchpad.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on this year’s DNA Series, I’m struck by its duality. On one hand, it’s a celebration of vulnerability—a reminder that even the most polished productions start as rough drafts. On the other, it’s a bold statement about the theater’s role in society. In my opinion, the DNA Series isn’t just about creating plays; it’s about creating conversations. And in a world that often feels fragmented, that’s more important than ever.
So, if you’re in La Jolla this May, do yourself a favor: witness these plays in their earliest, most raw form. Because what you’ll see isn’t just theater—it’s the future of storytelling, unfolding right before your eyes.
To reserve your spot, visit lajollaplayhouse.org/dna-2026. Trust me, you won’t regret it.
