Greymatters Productions Announces NYC production of
The Apron Strings Project 2024
“The Ties that Bind”
We are looking for monologues, poems, raps, spoken word, personal essays, very short scenes and songs
Dream. Imagine. Create. Reminisce. Remember. Reflect. Write.
Aprons are a metaphor for a relationship, whether it be in service, care-taking, or creation. They symbolize both work and protection.
View selections from historian Diane Schwindt’s collection of over 600 aprons (below.) Let them inspire you to tell a story about yourself or your people.
We have all worn aprons of different kinds, both real and metaphoric. We have prepared food, honed stone, cared for others, carried nails, baked pastries. We have labored and we have crafted. We have done this for payment and for love. We want to explore the commonalities of our experiences and celebrate what binds us.
We will select the “best of the best” to weave together into a 90 minute theatrical presentation, performed by professional actors in a NYC theater, that will capture the richness and diversity of our experiences, tied together by apron strings. An opportunity to have your unique voice heard.
Please send submissions of monologues, poems, raps, spoken word, personal essays, very short scenes and/or songs (4 minutes or less in length) that reflect the spirit of the poem below, inspired by the gallery of aprons that follow.
Submission deadline: April 1, 2024
(Press black button below to submit your work)
THIS IS THE APRON
By Debbie Slevin
This is the apron that clothed the body
that subjugated the spirit
or exalted the soul
within the ribs, beneath the arms
That extended the hands
That stirred the melting pot
That we call America
I am not interested in the stew.
I am interested in the ingredients
That each body brought from distant shores
From foreign hills and fertile valleys
From frigid tundra and desert heat
From deep within our local forests
Dense with buildings, peoples, trees
Bring me these.
A story of origin
A story of struggle
Triumph
Defeat
Endurance
Sorrow
Joy and laughter
Shared and borrowed.
Think of the welder, the waitress, the undertaker
The pathologist, the florist, the cookie baker
The butcher, the auntie, the jewelry maker
the potter, the jogger, the excavator.
A song, a poem, a prayer that brought this heart
To don this apron
Bring me these.
Give me your stories.
Yes: Tell me your tale
America is a melting pot
But these are the people who stirred it.
“I Still See Her”
Written by Jeff Slevin
Arranged and sung by Marc Dalio
