The Drama Division's eight playwrights are among the few students at a school for the performing arts who don't actually perform.

What do we do here?

The central element of the Lila Acheson Wallace American Playwrights Program at Juilliard is the weekly master class, which has become half tutorial and half group therapy. The structure of the class is deceptively simple: Students bring work in to be read aloud in class and then discussed. Almost more importantly, class simply provides somewhere to avoid the loneliness that accompanies writing. (Novelist Gabriel García Márquez compared the solitude of writers to that of "shipwrecked sailors in the middle of the ocean.")

Playwrights have different reactions to having their work read aloud — some bury their head in their hands, while others mouth along with the words.

Unlike most playwriting programs, Juilliard's has no set curriculum. The teaching is administered in small portions, disguised as feedback for a particular work. Christopher Durang (co-director of the program, along with Marsha Norman) talks about the philosophy behind the program's minimalist approach: "Since it's highly debatable that anyone can be 'taught' playwriting ... our choosing people with their own voices, with the knowledge of how to express their voice, puts us as teachers in the enviable position of being more like mentors. I think, for talented people, getting feedback and watching other writers--their fellow students, and sometimes me and Marsha--is of value. It doesn't 'teach' them how to write, but it maybe helps them to improve their writing. For us, it's like a coaching an already good athlete."

Class today begins with cupcakes. There's much to celebrate. Second-year student Ellen Melaver is back after having a baby boy. She passes around pictures and recounts the frantic day. (When asked what she wanted to pack for the hospital, all she could say was, "I need more time.")

Today we have two plays to read: a short work by first-year student Steve Harper, and another installment of a musical by second-year student Cybele Pascal. The scripts are disseminated and parts assigned.

Playwrights have different reactions to having their work read aloud--some bury their head in their hands, while others mouth along with the words. First-year student David Folwell is detached during a first read-through: "I don't hear the people reading the lines, but the characters in my head."

During his reading, Steve Harper listens with his chin in his hand, looking on thoughtfully. Not being actors, the playwrights do their best to make the rhythm of the lines sound O.K. After the reading, Harper is unsure whether he wants to expand the play, which at this point runs 12 pages. Harper comments, "Even when the consensus is that the work could be stronger or that I have work to do, I usually feel encouraged and not slammed." Melaver is similarly enthusiastic about the criticism in class: "The feedback from colleagues and mentors is truly helpful and well-timed. Everyone knows not to say too much too soon, and then they know when it's O.K. to give more detailed criticism."

During her reading, Pascal reacts more actively than Harper, laughing out loud at times and carefully watching others' reactions. Afterwards, people are enthusiastic. Durang and Norman suggest books on lyric writing that have been helpful to them.

Chris Durang talks about the dynamic between Marsha and him: "I think the team teaching is an unusual thing in the program, and worthwhile. Marsha and I have an unusual and, I think, successful balance. We really do agree most of the time--but even in agreement, we have somewhat different ways of expressing ourselves, and I think that is good for the student. It also takes away from that 'guru' thing that can happen with students. ... The fact that we're two people, and we have similar but somewhat differently nuanced responses, helps students to listen for what 'sounds right' to them and learn how to go forward on their own."

Over the 10 years since Michael Kahn took over the Drama Division, the structure of the playwriting program has remained relatively the same: two well-known playwrights giving writing advice to the hopeful. Terrence McNally and John Guare began as the co-directors in 1993, and two years later, Chris and Marsha took over. One thing that has remained the same is the class size: no more than four or five writers are accepted each year. (Playwrights may return for a second year.)

Marsha Norman talks about benefits of the small class size: "In big programs, things have to be much more general. Faculty need to philosophize more and lecture more, and tend to deal with individual work only in conferences occurring once or twice a year. Our program allows us to give writers the highest level of critical and personal attention every week."

Although not required, playwrights are encouraged to attend Michael Kahn's acting class. Marsha says, "Most dramatic writing programs are in entirely different buildings from the acting programs--clearly a mistake. Writers need actors, to watch, to write for, to learn from what can and cannot be done simply by acting."

Something seems to be working at Juilliard. In recent years the playwrights program has enjoyed something of a Midas touch, producing some of the most successful young writers in the American theater today. The most famous graduates include David Auburn, whose play Proof won the 2001 Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award and enjoyed a two-year run on Broadway, and David Lindsay-Abaire, whose Kimberly Akimbo was most recently seen Off-Broadway in a production by the Manhattan Theater Club.

David Folwell, a current first-year playwright, has enjoyed the weight the Juilliard name carries: "People are very impressed that I go to Juilliard. Hell, I'm impressed that I go to Juilliard. In fact, I've had to get a whole new set of friends."

Marsha talks about the strengths that the community of writers the program has developed now shares: "What has evolved over time is a kind of writing group composed of current and former Juilliard writers--young artists who attend each other's readings and pass along casting ideas and come to each other for help with difficulties of all sorts. This sense of 'we're all in this together' is one of the hallmarks of the program."

After a play is read in class, the next step in its development may be the bi-monthly playwrights lab--a somewhat more public version of class, in which we get to hear our work read by actors and alumni. Cybele Pascal is enthusiastic about labs: "They've thickened my skin. Labs have really helped with learning to filter criticism in a useful way. I'm also better at just putting something new out there, and allowing it to flop if that's the way it's going to be. I just sort of say, 'O.K., time to move on to the next project for awhile until I figure out how to deal with this one.'"

Class is winding down now. People talk about their plans for the weekend, about work that will come in for next week, and what to do with all the extra cupcakes. After Chris and Marsha say their farewells, we congregate on the plaza for a little more conversation before it's time to go home, back to whatever empty room in which we choose to write. However lonely we might get, there is always the promise of next week's class.

Noah Haidle is a first-year playwright.