A new play created by Deaf artists, James Caverly and Andrew Morrill, which includes six Deaf actors and one non-disabled actor, is coming to New York City for a two-day summer run bringing them back to a Deaf-led, ASL-centered ensemble on a major New York stage.
The Shed is transforming its stage with a Deaf-led, ASL-centered production with captions and spoken language added around that center. “Thank You Ryan for a Clean Microwave” moves between a Deaf-run coffee shop and a writer’s imagination as two internal narrators wrestle with love, trauma and who gets to tell whose story.
Turning pages and picking things from his bag, Morrill was getting everything ready for their rehearsal. “Get yourself comfortable. I’m just fixing some things for rehearsal before Joey gets here,” he said, greeting Able News. “We’re a team, we usually do everything together.”
Caverly and Morrill sat down with Able News an hour before their rehearsal in an exclusive interview to tell us the story of how the 90-minute play that is set to premiere its second phase on June 26 and 27 at The Shed in Manhattan came to fruition.
It started out as a small one-act play for the All New Talent Festival, hosted by the off-Broadway theater, Ars Nova in New York City back in 2023, and when the response from the audience was “very positive and fantastic, we knew that the story could be unfolded more,” Caverly signed to the on-site ASL interpreter, Stephanie Feyne. Thanks to The Shed for taking on the renewed proposal, the pair was able to work with a team of actors, which they found through the space’s Open Call program that supports early-career NYC-based artists with funding, space and a platform last August.
“It was a sandbox basically where we could just play and see what the microwave choreography could look like,” Caverly said. “Now, we have a better opportunity to present the play ’cause we’re rehearsing with the actors, and of course there have been a lot of changes throughout the process as we’re building the world of the play, and we’re wanting to show the audience where we are in this process.”
Caverly is an actor, director, playwright, and director of Artistic Sign Language, who described himself as the class clown when he was growing up because he would sign and “reperform” what was being said in class just to get 15 minutes of attention.
“I did feel left out of conversations, and I felt the need to put on a show to get the 15 minutes of laughter,” he said. Now, looking back, he credits that experience and background had helped him become a better writer. “ I think I’ve learned how to be a better storyteller and learning what is interesting, what is compelling, what keeps the audience engaged with the story, and engaged just to not get bored and to keep on with the show, from that experience growing up,” he said.
Both graduates of Gallaudet University, the two have found a strong creative partnership in advancing Deaf inclusion and producing meaningful plays about Deaf life in a society where Deaf people remain among the most marginalized within the disability community. Their first production together called “Trash,” analyzed each of the characters’ lives and their journey as Deaf people in a hearing world, as they dove into actual trash bags. Sticking with the messy theme, Caverly told Able News that ironically their specialty is “touching on themes called absurd realism.”
“ Characters are really grounded, but the situations they’re placed in are completely absurd. So, our writing process mainly taps those two areas, and I think it’s just interesting that we’re talking about inanimate objects such as trash, and next we’re talking about a microwave,” he signed.
With explosive comic set pieces, raw emotional reckonings, and a simmering scandal around a celebrity Deaf actor, is the microwave really clean? You have to come out and see how the creators delve into the intricate dynamics of identity and communication within the Deaf community and include signed and spoken languages with projected captions along with microwave choreography.
“I’ve always believed that when the audience knows that they’re coming to a show featuring Deaf and hard of hearing characters, they’re highly aware of entering a different world, different from their own. Being placed outside their comfort zone. They’re gonna learn, they’re gonna change a perspective, they’re gonna see theater as a revolutionary tool,” Caverly said about the experience and emotions the audience may feel when coming to see their new play. “ So for the two of us to write a play that features Deaf and hard-of-hearing characters where there were no spoken language or auditory layers, if we were to present that kind of a play, I think the audience would be confused at first, and then learn to adjust to the material. And by that internal adjustment they could actually begin to build a level of empathy, which is crucial.”
Morrill is an Obie-winning theatremaker and actor who double majored in international studies and history at Gallaudet University, while doing theater on the side because of the questionable perception of theater: “whether or not you can actually survive as a theater artist,” he said smirking. After taking a year’s break from acting, his professor “begged” him to do Shakespeare and when Morrill got back on stage, “my heart was literally on fire,” he said. “ I realized that sometimes you have to step out and then step back in to realize that that’s exactly what you want.”
Known for his artistic signs, Morrill dissects the language of ASL to adapt both Shakespeare and contemporary works, elevating creativity in the process. “ The translation process is really interesting because you see that ASL wakes up these words that are 500 years old and brings a new perspective,” he said.
When referring back to “Thank You Ryan For a Clean Microwave,” Morrill said that as opposed to the pieces people are used to seeing where the Deaf roles are written by hearing folks, “ here is a show being written by Deaf writers, and the audience will see a frame that perforce must widen so that it’s not just limited to this auditory ability or the spoken community. It’s seeing Deaf people as humans, too, and we want the audience to take that from the show as well.”
There are only about 10,000 ASL interpreters nationwide and a shortage of captioners, according to the House of Justice Deaf Club. The interpreter training program for ASL at LaGuardia Community College closed in 2022.
Both Caverly and Morrill agree that “it’s incredibly valuable to have ASL interpretation at all different public accessible spaces.”
Morrill told Able News that he shares the same sentiment as Deaf sound artist and activist Christine Sun Kim when she wrote “real talk: using sign language will make you a better person” in 2018 as a protest poster. “ representation is incredibly important, and I support that the visible representation on TV, film, stage is worth celebrating. But sometimes people forget who’s got the control. Because we are creating work. We are the playwrights. We are the theater makers, and we’re putting Deaf people in control of this process from step one. So, it looks very different, the kind of Deaf representation you’re gonna have because of the Deaf involvement from the get-go,” he added, talking about the frequent mistakes of his community’s portrayal.
Taking to the moguls of art, Caverly said “The industry should run on disabled time.” He wants all aspects of the creative process to slow down, especially casting. “ Things can’t be quickly and easily fixed,” he said. “ It takes time and effort and empathy and safety to make sure that the disabled characters are represented accurately.”
And to the younger generation who will be hit the most by the lack of ASL interpreters and captioners, “You are capable of doing big things. You can dream big, and you can do anything you set your mind to. Just don’t listen to people who tell you you can’t do it,” Caverly ended.
Caverly and Morrill’s sharp, funny, and fiercely humane chamber play next week is free with tickets available online. Tickets will also be available at The Shed through walk-ins.