The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Wednesday, July 12, 1995               TAG: 9507120036
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY TERESA ANNAS, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  112 lines

DOGGED DETERMINATION PLAYWRIGHT OVERCOMES DEPRESSION, DRINKING AND HARD FEELINGS IN WRITING ONE-ACT PLAY.

GREG SILVA had just finished working out in his home gym in the Shadowlawn section of Virginia Beach. The 33-year-old thespian was still sweating as he sat down and lit an organic cigarette.

He tapped it nervously against the ashtray, mulling over how to explain his one-act play opening tonight at the Generic Theater, part of the ``New Plays for Dog Days Festival.''

Silva hasn't always been a smoker. He certainly didn't mess with the evil weed while a film student in the mid-'80s at Regent University. The bitter circumstances of his departure from Regent - which he ties to bouts of depression and drinking - inspired ``You're Trespassing on my Planet!'' Silva's comedy shares the bill with ``The Furniture,'' a family drama by Virginia Beach playwright Beth Chenosky.

``You're Trespassing on my Planet!'' is set in the future, on another planet, where a beatnik writer named Terrance Atlas has moved. On Earth, a televangelist has taken control. The fact that a man exists who has not been converted bugs Johnny Gospel enough that he gets in his spaceship and rides out to find him.

``This person is not based on Pat Robertson,'' Silva said. ``I actually like Pat Robertson. I like Oral Roberts,'' he stressed. ``But there are crooks who call themselves televangelists.''

Since childhood, Silva has written music, a screenplay, fiction and a few plays. From age 10 into his 20s, Silva was involved - like his mother - in charismatic and evangelical religions. He believed in miracles. He spoke in tongues. He never drank nor smoked nor spoke the Lord's name in vain.

Things have changed. Prior to the interview, Silva asked: ``Is it OK if I cuss? Sometimes profanity is exactly what I want to say.''

He is a self-taught dramatist. His undergraduate degree from Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, Okla., is in music composition. He also studied music briefly at Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore.

Then Silva felt moved by the spirit to study film, so he enrolled at Regent in 1985. Two years later, he met head-on with the Christian university's rules.

He was living on campus, where alcoholic beverages were forbidden. A maintenance worker found a few empty beer cans in his room, and the word spread to a school official, Silva said.

The treatment that ensued was ``humiliating and degrading,'' he said. He said he was forced into counseling, and had to sign documents swearing he would never drink again. He became depressed and left school six credits shy of receiving his graduate degree.

``I became a major alcoholic for two years,'' a condition he doesn't blame on Regent. ``I take full responsibility for my actions.''

Still, he bristles at the oppression he believes he experienced at Regent. And it is that perceived oppression that became the seed for ``Planet,'' the first of his plays to have been produced.

``So, this play is what could happen to the Earth if fundamentalist evangelicalism consumed the world,'' he said. ``I think that modern Christianity has gotten away from what Jesus intended. I believe I am railing against the same things Jesus railed against.''

Silva's play is comedy spurred by hard feelings. Beth Chenosky's one-act ``The Furniture'' was spun from whimsy, yet contains the evening's darker moments.

Chenosky's script took root while she and her husband, Ray, were driving to Washington, D.C., to visit a daughter. They were going to surprise her with a love seat.

Cnenofsky, 53, recalled, ``On the way up there, I said to my husband, `Wouldn't it be interesting to make this a play, and to have her not want the furniture? And to have a reason not to want it.' ''

The two spent the ride toying with a plot. ``Before long, I had an idea. Before long, I had written it.''

That was six months ago. In ``The Furniture,'' Kara, who is white, has been living for months with Davis, a young black man. She dreads telling her parents about the relationship.

When her parents show up, she is horror-struck and angry. In bringing her furniture, Kara feels her parents are saying they don't believe she can take care of herself. In part, they were thinking of themselves: They simply wanted a comfortable sofa to sit on when they visit.

``It's light comedy, really, with touches of drama,'' Chenosky said. ``It kind of comes in waves. It crests and then it falls. You can see Kara wanting to tell them something, but not being able to tell them.''

Last year, Chenosky's first script was produced for ``Dog Days.'' ``Stuff'' is about a tyrannical father whose 40-year domination of his wife and four daughters finally gets challenged.

That experience gave her the confidence to send out the revised script to theaters and performers across the nation. No further productions are yet scheduled, however.

She wrote the father's part in ``Stuff'' with Walter Matthau in mind, and sent the script to him last year. ``He had it, and read it, and sent me three letters. He said he really loved the piece, but that he's just not doing stage plays anymore.''

When she started ``The Furniture,'' which has just one scene, Chenosky hoped it would be easier than the six-scene ``Stuff.''

``But it was still a challenge. I'm just thrilled to have another produced. For an amateur, it's quite a thrill.'' ILLUSTRATION: D. KEVIN ELLIOTT/Staff color photos

From left, Greg Silva, Betty Zander and Beth Chenosky at the Generic

Theater. Zander is the Dog Days Festival producer.

LEFT: From left, Emily Cromwell, Victoria Blake and Marisa Marsey in

``Daughters of Lear.''

Graphic

STAGE NOTES

[For complete graphic, please see microfilm]

by CNB