HamBone

Necessary Monsters

2012-02-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

Poster design by Matt Rodin

Every year, I create a new theatre piece with my senior acting students at Boston Conservatory. It's always a very collaborative, interesting, enjoyable process. It was in this class that The Hotel Nepenthe came into being. Last year, we adapted James Baldwin's devastating Giovanni's Room.

This year our source text is Jorge Luis Borges' The Book of Imaginary Beings. Instead of an adaptation using Borges' text, our result is a new play about 14 disparate people on a doomed airplane that contains each passenger's story within another story: a film within a book within a dream within an hallucination. Direction and text by myself, with additional text and staging by the class. I also got to design the sound and lights, which was fun.

The title comes from the preface of the book. Borges describes some monsters as "necessary": we make them up in order to understand the world.

Hope you can see it! We open this weekend only, and it's free!

For reservations, call the Box Office: 617-912-9222

Our Giving Tree

2012-01-17T18:21:00.000-08:00

So, we used to have a great big eight-foot Douglas Fir Christmas Tree during the Holidays.

But a few years ago we decided to just cancel Christmas.

It was very sad.

And probably one of the best decisions we ever made. Humbug!

Last year, we bought this little fake white plastic tree from Sears.

It was totally on sale.

You know the kind of tree: the one you SWORE you would NEVER have in your house.

Well, we have it!

With built in lights.

It folds up like a beach umbrella for easy storage.

And since it can't die, we keep it up from November til, oh, around March.

You know when people tell you to "keep Christmas in your hearts the whole year 'round"?

Well, we took that literally.

It's really just a light source after New Years.

That's what I tell my therapist, anyway.

And a total source of amusement.

Aren't Christmas trees sort of a pagan thing, anyway? So why not have them year-round?

I was brought up Unitarian, so I'm kind of an honorary pagan, anyway.

This year we decorated our fake tree entirely with hunky, shirtless Mermen.

And tiny disco balls.

Did I mention we're gay?

Some Shocking Statistics!!!

2012-01-11T07:44:00.000-08:00

Everyone is up in arms lately because some guy took statistics from the Broadway League Demographic Report (whatever that is) and determined that, given the statistics, "theatre is primarily for white people".

Because, remember: the only theatre that TRULY matters is being done on one street in New York City

All the brown, pink, tan, beige, green and paisley people (or, "non-whites", as they are referred to in the report) apparently are into other art forms besides schlocky, crass, pandering, money-driven, bloated, star-fucking Broadway spectacles.

To me, this simply means that "non-white" people have better TASTE than "white" people.

In a similar report, 90% of "non-whites" responded that they would rather "be stuck in an elevator between floors with Newt Gingrich just after he ate a bean and cheese burrito" than sit thru "Spiderman: Turn Off The Dark".

89% of respondents said they would rather "drink battery acid" than listen to your bootleg recording of "A New Brain" while driving to Vermont.

And a whopping 99% stated they would rather "stick a knitting needle thru their forehead" than listen to your story about the time you bumped into Elaine Stritch in a deli on 47th at 2am and she was totally hammered and she told you this really dirty joke while you were waiting in line and you both laughed and laughed and then you helped her into a cab and she gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you to "never give up, kid" and that's why you just HAVE to do this crazy thing called THEATRE!!!!!!

Uncle Vanya Opens Tonight!

2011-12-29T13:25:00.000-08:00

Erin Eva Butcher as Sonya

Uncle Vanya opens tonight at the Apollinaire Theatre in Chelsea!

It's been a very amazing process with a really great group of people! One of my favorite plays, and my first time performing Chekhov. I hope you can make it! The entire beautiful Odd Fellows Building is being used as the setting, with the audience following us from room to room.

Good news: they have extended the show already! We now run until the 22nd of January.

FYI: due to the particular staging, the audience can't go over 30 people (which is one of the reasons the tickets are selling so fast!).

So if you really want to go, please try to get tickets soon!

Follow the above link for all the info and tickets!

Merry Christmas from Kringletown!

2011-12-24T15:41:00.000-08:00

Lordan Napoli as Twinkle

Merry Xmas To You All!

Tommy and I are both off from rehearsal for today and tomorrow. Saw Merry Wives today, very fun. On Monday I go into tech for Uncle Vanya and Tommy opens Red two weeks later (he's playing abstract artist Mark Rothko). We have both recovered from a violent bout of stomach flu that took us both out of commission for a while.

Tomorrow we have a great gift: REST. And a chance to spend some time together.
I hope you all do to!

Today I was thinking of the Christmas show I wrote almost 10 years ago for the (now defunct) Boston Theatre Works: My Life With The Kringle Kult.

I wrote it for myself and my good friends Rick Park and Lordan Napoli to perform. We had a lot of fun doing it.

It was about this strange place called Kringletown, on the planet Snarfgone, where Elves and Mermaids and Unicorns live. Santa-ism is a sort of cult for Elves.

There's also a talking ball of belly button lint named Linty.
And a chase scene on reindeer.
And a food fight with Brussels Sprouts.
And Elvis.

Here's the opening monologue, where Twinkle, a perky elf, greets the audience. I thought it might give you a chuckle.

Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year!

(LIGHTS UP ON TWINKLE, A NERDY BUT SWEET GIRL ELF. SHE IS DRESSED IN A SIMPLE BURLAP SACK OF FESTIVE GREEN AND RED. WE ARE IN SANTA'S TOYSHOP, IN THE MAGICAL WORLD OF SNARFGONE. TWINKLE SPEAKS TO THE AUDIENCE.)

Twinkle:

Hi everybody! My name is Twinkle and welcome to Kringletown, where everyday is Christmas day!

You are here because you took a very important step (she takes a step forward): you chose to give up your lives of ordinary Elf worries and woes and material comforts to come here and be one of Santa’s Elves and make toys for the rest of your lives. You are now officially the envy of every gnome, sprite, pixie, hobgoblin, leprechaun, gremlin, oompah loompah, poltergeist and fairy in Snarfgone! You have all met the high standards and qualifications required to be a true Santa Elf!

You have signed a very important contract with us. This isn’t a contract you can see, but rather a contract written on one’s heart. Of course, you will also be asked to sign this other contract. (She reveals a document so long, it rolls out on the floor) This is just a little formality our lawyers drew up, just to make sure everything is merry and nice between us, that’s it’s OK for you to live here, work here, liquidate your assets, which, of course, will be donated to us… Oh, there’s also a section on food allergies that you should really fill out. It’s fun!

Being one of Santa’s elves is hard but rewarding work, and there are many advantages and exciting perks. For one thing, you get to be closer to Santa himself, who is everyone’s favorite guy! In fact, this is Santa’s secret chamber right here.
(She indicates a door stage Left. On it is a huge sign that says “Santa’s Office. Private. Keep Out. No Visitors, Any Time, for Any Reason. Merry Xmas.”)

That’s right. Behind this very door is Santa! Who knows what he’s doing in there, right now. He could be making his list. Or perhaps checking it twice. He could be roasting chestnuts over an open fire. Or perhaps having a light lunch with Jack Frost, his old buddy from college. If I were to fling this door open right now, we would all see Santa, and be bathed in the glory and wonder of His light, and truly believe that there is happiness and peace in the afterlife!

But I can’t do that. It’s against the rules.

Santa is SO very busy, he has no time for visitors, so I’m afraid few of you will ever actually SEE Santa. He eats and sleeps for the whole year, so he can save up energy for that big special day. But know that he is here.

And that he is watching you.

He’s watching us all.

You know, modern Elf life is filled with so many complicated questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Why was I born an Elf and not a Fairy? What the Hell is a Smurf? Well, here in Kringletown, all those questions are answered FOR you: You are an Elf. You are here to make toys. There is no such thing as Good and Evil. Only Naughty and Nice. You see, it’s very important that you be Nice. Niceness means that you do the right thing, that you believe in Santa and his teachings, that you follow the rules of Kringle-ism and all its tenets. Only by being Nice do you make it to Earth and life hereafter.

(She pulls down a map of Planet Earth)

Earth is a wonderous place, far, far away.

The most powerful creatures on Earth are called Children, and we must work night and day to appease them. If it wasn’t for Children, Santa wouldn’t even exist, and we would all be lost. That’s why we dedicate our lives to making their favorite thing: toys. Toys are the key to Earth and eternal bliss, because every year, on a special day called Christmas, Santa packs up all the toys we’ve made and carries them in his flying sleigh to Earth, to give to all the good Children. To the bad Children, we give lumps of coal, which they seem to enjoy for some reason. In return, The Children of Earth grant Santa and his followers passage to Earth when we die. Now, we all know what happens to you when you die if you’re just a regular elf, don’t we? Your spend eternity stuck in an elevator, with giants who pass wind, while the muzak version of “Muskrat Love” by Captain & Tennille plays over and over. Some afterlife, Huh? But if you die as one of SANTAS elves, you go to Earth when you die, where everything is Happy! On Earth, there are no worries or troubles like we have here on Snarfgone. The rivers are chocolate and the sky is cotton candy! And everyone lives there in peace and joy and harmony together. The mermaids and the pixies don’t fight. The giant’s and the griffins don’t try to blow each other up. Gnomes are so relaxed on Earth, they are known to just sit on lawns all day and night. You’ll also get to meet famous elf heroes of yore on Earth, like Linda Hunt and Dr. Ruth Westheimer.

Myself as Karl Kringle

As long as you love Santa, and believe in him, everything will be fine. Just be nice, follow the tenets of Kringleism and Santa will reward you with a trip to Earth when you die. Because here, there is only one God: Santa. And you’re living in His house now. That is all you need to know! Santa will take care of the rest, because Santa knows all and sees all. He sees you when you’re… (she encourages an audience member to say “sleeping”) He knows when you’re… (She does the same thing for “awake” with a different audience member.) He knows when you’ve been… (bad or good.) So what do we do, everyone? (She conducts the rest of the audience) Be good, for goodness sake! Yay!!!!!

Now, there ARE a lot of disbelievers out there. They don’t believe that Santa is telling his followers the truth. They don’t believe in Earth, or that Children, or fabled cities like Seattle exist. There have been a lot of nasty things said about us in the newspapers and on TV, and there have been a lot of nasty lawsuits from the families of some of our Elves, who claim that we have brainwashed and kidnapped them. Well, I’ll tell you right now. Nothing could be further from the truth. No one wants to leave here because we are happy here! There’s plenty of Brussels Sprouts to eat. Lots of warm, curdly milk to drink, and great music by Esquivel to listen to while you make toys!

I hope that you will all stay. We’re your family now, and we care about each and every one of you!

Later on, if you are truly devoted, and make the correct amount of sacrifices, you may one day hope to achieve the highest honor known to elves: the Infinite Embrace with Santa. At that time, Santa will summon you to his secret chamber, which is right behind this very door. No one has ever been inside this room until the day of their Infinite Embrace. On that day, you will appear before the door, rubbed in special oils of motor and baby, innocent of shame and disbelief, and clothing. The door will open, by some unseen hand and you will enter. Alone. The lights will be lowered, Burl Ives will play gently in the background, and you will lie on Santa’s holy water bed, which I’m told is filled with the life water of a hundred talking snowmen. You close your eyes. Soon, Santa will be by your side holding you in his strong, chubby arms. His ample, over-flowing belly, all pale and blue-veined like some wonderous jelly fish, rubs against your quivering flesh. You’ll smell the nog and fruitcake on his breath. Slowly, he’ll pull down your scratchy smelly burlap smock, and you’ll hear him whisper on the pulsing tenderness of your throat: “Ho. Ho. Ho.”

Before you know it, you are tangled in a sensual orgy or sweat, cookie crumbs and long white facial hair. You have never known such joy or happiness, as Santa gives you the biggest present of your life. Again. And again. And Again!

At least, that’s how I would imagine it.

Rick Park as Mitzi Von Shatzdoodle

I’m told it’s better than a 100 roller coaster rides, and twice as fast! Once an elf has achieved the Infinite Embrace with Santa, you are closer to Earth than ever. Only the brightest, smartest, and most attractive elves attain such a privilege, and I personally pray everyday to the Mistletoe Goddess that I might be granted with the special qualities that Santa Seeks. For this very reason, sexual relations among elves is strictly forbidden here in Kringletown. All elves must remain pure and innocent until the Infinite Embrace is achieved, and anyone caught disobeying this rule will be executed.

Now if no one has any questions... (awkward silence) Great! So, we can all repair to the Reindeer Room, for cookies and caroling, contract signing and the group wedding.

Goodbye for now!
Santa loves you!
Merry Xmas!
Silent Night!

The Balcony - Photo Call

2011-12-17T11:58:00.000-08:00

We had a Post-Production meeting this week for The Balcony. The Production Manager called it a "Post Mortem", which is fitting in a way:

it's a production I've been thinking about for well over a year.

A week of auditions and callbacks.

Many design and production meetings.

4 weeks of rehearsal.

5 days of tech in the theatre.

4 performances.

And now, the production is a memory.

So, it feels like a loss of some sort.

What we do is very brief and ephemeral.

It was all over before we all knew it, there is little record of it, and only a handful people were able to see the show.

But it will still remain one of the best experiences I've had so far, working on a play.

I feel very grateful.

I was able to procure production photos.

Enjoy!

Set Design by Christina Todesco.

Lighting Design by Jeff Adelberg

Costumes by Gail Buckley

Sound by David Reiffel

Video by Jeff Maynard

Prop design by Megan Simmons

Stage Manager: Maura Neff

Asst. Stage Manager: Keith Potts

Cast

Nicky Sawyer as Irma

Joe Longthorne as The Chief of Police

Keith White as Roger

Grace Tarves as Carmen

Meredith Myers as Chantal

Grant Wallace as The Bishop

Trey Harrington as The Judge

Jessie Muni as The General

Ryan Halsaver as The Slave

Raleigh Bisbee as Rosine

Sarah Drake as Florence

Sara Mullis as Marlyse

Alison McCartan as Elyane

Bartlett Mather as Arthur

Paul Lang as The Envoy

Peter Romanga as Photographer #1 (Blood)

Riley Brack as Photographer #2 (Tears)

Greg Pike as Photographer #3 (Sperm)

Beautiful Photography by Max Wagenblass.

All photos copyright: The Boston Conservatory, Photo by Max Waxenblass

www.bostonconservatory.edu

www.maxwagenblass.com

The Hancock Family Holiday Challenge

2011-12-14T21:20:00.000-08:00

And speaking of ASP, I wanted to let you all know about a very special way that you can help support us: Every year, the Hancock Family generously matches every donation to the company, dollar to dollar. So every little bit counts. All the info is below. Hope you can help, and please spread the word!

This holiday season, Actors' Shakespeare Project is delighted to announce

the return of the Hancock Family Holiday Challenge! Through the generosity

of the Hancock Family, every dollar received between December 1, 2011 and January 15, 2012 will be matched, dollar for dollar, up to $50,000!

We must raise at least $50,000 to receive that $50,000 match.

Donate HERE

Please help with a donation of any size today!

Many thanks,
Actors' Shakespeare Project

Merry Wives of Windsor

2011-12-14T21:06:00.000-08:00

I haven't had a chance to see Merry Wives of Windsor yet, but I'm sure it's terrific!
I have personally never seen this play staged before, so I'm very excited!
Here's the info below, if you can go!

The Merry Wives of Windsor

Dec 07, 2011 - Jan 01, 2012

Davis Square Theatre (formerly Jimmy Tingle’s)

Somerville, MA

Directed by Steven Barkhimer
Falstaff loves that he’s got it all figured out, and we love him for being so wrong. Braggadocio, buffoonery and tricks all make this story jiggle and jounce with great delight. Comeuppance ain’t worth tuppence unless it’s done in good fun, and even the lessons learned can be sweet while they sting.

Featuring company members: Bill Barclay*, Marianna Bassham*, Richard Snee* and Michael Forden Walker*
Also featuring: Esme Allen, Lydia Barnett-Mulligan, Ruby Rose Fox, John Greene, Gabriel Kuttner*
Post-Show Discussions at the production venue immediately following each Sunday 2pm matinee.

Sunday 12/11 with Director Steven Barkhimer
Sunday 12/18 with the cast
Sunday 1/1 with author Elizabeth Searle, moderated by Allyn Burrows

The Merry Wives of Windsor runs approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission.

*Member of Actors' Equity Association, the union of professional Actors and Stage Managers in the United States

Looking Ahead

2011-12-13T11:48:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is my last day of finals at BoCo, so I can focus entirely on Uncle Vanya after that, which is great.
It's strange, but I've realized that after Uncle Vanya, I won't be acting on stage for quite a while: I got a gig writing comedy scripts for a charity event that has forced me to drop out of two shows I was really looking forward to working on this winter: one with a really great company that I've always wanted to work with, and another with my own company, ASP, in the early Spring, Troilus and Cressida.

I'm very sad I won't be able to work on those shows. Usually I can do all or both, but it was one of those things where the dates all fell on the EXACT same weekend. If I could have done all three, I would have, but between the plays, the writing and my class schedule I had to choose one or the other. So it came down to which of the projects was more interesting, and which project I could actually afford to do.

But ALL the projects were interesting to me (and I feel lucky to have such a problem, actually), so it came down to what paid more. And the sad truth is, stage acting is always going to come in last in the arena of payment. Actors make no money. None. When you see a group of actors on stage, performing, know that they are doing it because they love it, and are passionate about it. Small theatres (where I do almost all my work) cannot afford to pay actors a living wage. It's just a sad truth.
For example, ASP pays it's Union actors around $400 a week (plus health and pension), and that is one of the highest salaries for Equity actors in Boston at a mid-size level. (The ART, Huntington, Shear Madness and (I imagine) Emerson Stage would be in another category).

But you don't have to be a genius to figure out the math: even if you worked the entire year at $400/ week, that would be $19,200 for the year (BEFORE taxes!), putting you well below the poverty level. Obviously, unless you are independently wealthy, actors need other jobs in order to do things like eat and pay their rent. This means we typically work two or three OTHER jobs, as well as act, one on top of another. Whoever said actors were lazy?

At ASP, our company is made up almost entirely of teachers, so the rehearsal/performance schedules are built to accommodate our teaching schedules. It's just one way that the company tries to support its actors.

The one incentive to working onstage is earning what we actors call "Health Weeks", and they are VERY important.

Most union actors get their health insurance thru the Union. But in order to do that, you must work AT LEAST 20 weeks out of the year under a Union contract (ie, in rehearsal or performance of a play).
If you don't get all 20 weeks, you lose your health insurance.
That's really scary.

This year will be the first time I will not have earned enough weeks to qualify for my health insurance. (Including Uncle Vanya, I have worked 12 weeks, which means I qualify for 6 months of coverage, but after that, if I haven't made up an additional 20 weeks of work, I will lose it. At least that's how I understand it.)

So, actors are always in a mad scramble to earn their health weeks. We need to be in a show: ANY show, or else we are screwed.

But here's the thing: now that I'm full time at BoCo, I get my health insurance thru them. So, technically, I don't NEED to make the 20 weeks any more. So, without the spectre of losing my health insurance, my choices have opened up in a certain way. I was able to direct The Balcony, for example, (which offered no health weeks at all) and to take this writing gig (ditto).

So, I don't have to make choices based on my health weeks any more. And since that has happened, I have sadly found myself acting less and less, because I'm either too busy, or I just can't afford it. (Of course, there's also the question of someone actually wanting to HIRE me as an actor, which is another conundrum altogether!)

And I've found that I actually can be very passionate about other, non-acting projects, like directing and playwriting and teaching. So while I miss acting, I find that now I have more time to do other things, like write plays.

The other thing is: acting is freaking EXHAUSTING. So, if I'm going to be in a play, I want to REALLY be into it, and not because I need 8 more health weeks.

And really, when you think about it: it's kind of disturbing and shameful, this situation with health weeks. After all, if you're really ill, you CAN'T perform in a play. It's impossible. You HAVE to be healthy in order to do it. (Dr. Footlights only works to a certain extent).

But if you're not healthy, you lose your insurance, when you need it most. I remember that one of the main reasons Stafford wanted to do Mortal Terror (besides the fact that he needed something to focus on besides beating cancer, and that he enjoyed being in the play) was to earn more health weeks. Because he needed them, badly.

Bear in mind that all this based on the plight of UNION actors. Non-Union actors are in another boat entirely. They are paid even LESS, and receive NO health or pension benefits at all. Think about how many small, non-union theatre companies there are in Boston alone and your head starts to spin.

I'm not sure why our health care system is the way it is. It makes no sense to me. Health care should be available to everyone, especially in a country as affluent as this one. To force sick people to work in order to get health care.

It's barbaric.

Sad News

2011-12-11T20:48:00.000-08:00

Stafford with Dafydd

I just received very sad news: Stafford Clark-Price, who was such a wonderful William Shakespeare in Mortal Terror has passed away.

Stafford had been battling cancer for a year and a half.

We had all become very close during Mortal Terror.

Stafford was very open about his sickness, and had this amazing sense of humor about it. I never saw him down or self-pitying. He was the definition of bravery.

He was an amazing, thoughtful, kind, generous, talented guy, and I feel very lucky that I got to know him, even if it was only for a few short months.

Uncle Vanya

2011-12-06T09:18:00.000-08:00

Take that, Professor!

I'm assuming that if you are reading this blog, you might have some sort of interest in what I might be up to, so here is my next thing: my first time performing Chekhov, one of my favorite plays, one of my favorite characters, I'm very excited.
The Apollinaire is a theatre company in Chelsea, which I'm finding isn't that hard to get to, really: you just take the 111 Bus at Haymarket, and there you are! (I wish I could ride my bike there, but it's pretty impossible, what with the Tobin Bridge and all).

Apollinaire does really adventurous theatre: they staged "Wedding on the Eiffel Tower" by Jean Cocteau (outdoors yet!), which was my introduction to what they do and exciting to see (that play is never done, for many reasons - two being it's huge and completely nuts and requires an ostrich).

It's my first time working with them, and I'm their first Equity contract (so I'm a bit of a guinea pig). Very honored that they thought of me for this beautiful role.

The staging should be interesting as well: The Apollinaire owns the four story building that houses their stage (on the second floor). For Uncle Vanya, they are staging each Act in a different room in the building, and the audience follows the action around.

To make this all work, the audience size is limited to 30, so please, if you want to see the show: Get Tickets NOW!

Here's the info: hope you can make it!

Food for Thought

2011-12-02T21:36:00.000-08:00

My friend sent me a link to this blog entry by Diane Ragsdale, from her blog "Jumper". It really raised a lot of questions for me, and I couldn't stop thinking about it, and wanted to share it.

Here it is:

"Saturday night I went to Joe’s Pub to see playwright-lounge lizard Ethan Lipton & His Orchestra perform his new work, No Place To Go, about a playwright-lounge lizard that must decide whether to relocate or stay in the ‘the city’ when the company that has provided him with a steady ‘day-job’ (part-time no-benefits employment) for a decade decides to relocate to Mars. It’s funny, satirical, and poignant. As you might have inferred, the piece is inspired by events in Lipton’s life.
Some of my friends who are actors, playwrights, composers, or directors are able to make something close to a living alternating between paying gigs and unemployment (if you can call having a gross income just above poverty level and no health insurance ‘making a living’); but many of them have (like Lipton) been able to pursue their careers as artists only by working day jobs (many of which have become harder to obtain or hold onto during the rather brutal current economic climate).
There was a time when one of the first principles of resident theaters in this country was that they would hire a company of actors and then cast them in multiple productions throughout the season in a combination of large and small roles. I recently re-read a speech given by W. McNeil Lowry at the Ford Foundation in which he mentions that Ford started investing in theaters in the 1960′s in part to improve circumstances for actors. While ‘acting ensembles’ still exist they are mostly in the form of ‘artist-driven collectives’ that produce shows but operate with a bare bones administrative budget. There are exceptions, but by-and-large, and for a variety of reasons, resident theaters lost their resident acting companies decades ago.
Over the same period of time, however, the administrative staffs of these same theaters became quite substantial to the point where NEA Chairman Rocco Landesman has recently questioned whether we need “three administrators for every artist” in America. I’m not familiar with the research that underpins that question/statistic, but it certainly seems that artists with salaries are generally artists that have become arts administrators.
The past year or two I’ve begun to hear artistic directors express dismay at the fact that we give administrators salaries but we hire actors, directors, designers, and writers on a ‘contract’ basis. Unfortunately, these conversations never seem to go anywhere. I don’t hear anyone going so far as to suggest that theaters try to ‘get the acting company back together again’ or even that theaters should be paying higher wages to artists to compensate for the fact that they no longer provide stable employment. They all seem to shrug their shoulders and shake their heads as if to say, “I wish I could do something about this”. It’s like they’ve forgotten that they are the leaders of these organizations and responsible for setting the priorities and values.
I’m no artistic director, but I can think of a few things larger theaters in the US might do for actors short of reconstituting their acting companies and their repertory models:

What if theaters maintained a minimum ratio between ‘wages or fees paid to artists’ and the total operating budget?
What if investments in the buildings, administrative budgets, and salaries of full-time staff of theaters were matched with a relative increase in artistic budgets and, specifically, wages or fees paid to artists?
What if LORT A theaters paid wages to artists comparable to a Broadway production contract?
What if, in consideration of the fact that an actor must begin working on a role before rehearsal begins and often needs time to find employment after a show ends, actors were paid a minimum of 12 weeks of salary at any LORT theater (even though they were working at the theater for only 8 of those weeks)?
What if theaters opting to do a play with 5 or fewer characters doubled the weekly wages of the actors?

I know …these ideas are preposterous.
I remember hearing Michael Halberstam at Writers’ Theater in Chicago speak at a TCG conference (at a brilliant session with Mike Daisey discussing his insightful and rather incendiary work How Theater Failed America) and learning that Writers’ Theater had long ago made a commitment to invest in actors (and local ones at that) and pay wages comparable to the wages paid by larger theaters. It sounded so right when I heard it, and it was clear that in this room filled with artistic and managing directors from around the country that Michael Halberstam was considered a radical for doing this.
Why is it an outlandish idea to pay as much as you can to the artists and to keep administrative or other production costs as low as possible in order to do so?
And why do we accept this strange idea that doing a play with more than 5 characters is going to bankrupt a theater with a $5- or $10- or $15 million operating budget?
Pffff.
Ethan Lipton is clearly a talented artist. As much as I’d like to hope that he will suddenly be able to make his living fulltime as an artist in this country, realistically I know that I should probably hope that he gets another part-time day job that will let him continue working as an artist.
This makes me sad. I bet it makes many artistic directors sad, as well. But we need to do more than shake our heads when we discuss that arts administrators can make a living wage in this country and that even really talented actors (and musicians and dancers) too often cannot.
We want to tell ourselves that it is not possible to do more for artists but this is simply not true.
At large institutions across this country, of course more can be done.
I welcome other outlandish suggestions …"

That's the post. I've provided the link to Ragsdale's blog, Jumper, if you'd like to read more. The comments were really interesting, as well.

http://www.artsjournal.com/jumper/2011/11/on-artists-making-a-living-and-artistic-directors-that-could-make-a-difference-but-dont/

Burning

2011-11-27T20:06:00.000-08:00

Just came back from NYC, which is always a pain in the ass. But worth it to see Thomas Bradshaw's Burning at the Acorn Theatre. Wow. What an amazing, provocative, seething mess of a play: so ambitious and enthralling and fascinating. I really felt like I was seeing a whole new type of play. First of all, I can't even believe it was produced, at all: a new play with 13 roles that includes scenes of incest, murder, graphic sex and violence and neo-Nazis talking about the importance of fiber in your diet? I kept wondering what theatre in Boston would be brave enough to produce this play before anyone else, and the answer, sadly, was NONE OF THEM. Never mind the subject matter or the endless nudity and simulated butt-fucking required of the cast: it wouldn't get past the "new play with 13 roles" part. To be fair, I don't think the play could really be produced anywhere BUT New York. It's the only city where the audience wouldn't all walk out or try to burn the theatre down (and there were walk outs, believe me.)

So, I hate to admit it, but: you win New York. Again.

Man, this was crazy, risky, insane theatre. It talked about race and sexuality and queerness in ways that theatre just hasn't yet. It reminded me of Sarah Kane, but where her language is poetic and heightened, Bradshaw's is completely mundane, even awkward, which makes the shocking nature of the scenarios even more strange and ugly: two gay men casually inviting their adoptive son into a menage a trois; a neo-Nazi engaging in mastrubation with his creepy, paralyzed 16-year-old sister in a bath tub. Lots and lots of anal sex. Themes of exploitation and internalized racism and the commercialization of art, all piled on top of each other and bending back and forth between the 1980s and the present.

If you are in New York, go see this play. Really.

Addendum: I just got my copy of American Theatre, and the complete text of Bradshaw's "Ashes" is included. "Ashes" appears to be a play that became part of "Burning": the story surrounding Neo-Nazis and a black artist in Berlin.

The Balcony Mix

2011-11-20T07:13:00.000-08:00

So many people asked for this after the show, so here it is:

The Balcony Playlist:

Untouched by The Veronicas
Dancing On My Own by Robyn
John the Revelator by Depeche Mode
Oh La La by Goldfrapp
My Body is a Cage by Arcade Fire
Rocket by Goldfrapp
Sunshine, Lollipops by Leslie Gore
Bolero by Pink Martini
Paper Planes by MIA
I Like It Rough by Lady Gaga
Satin Chic by Goldfrapp
Voice Thing by Goldfrapp
and, of course
Bulletproof by La Roux

A great mix for parties, funerals, faux-funerals, and everything in between!

I want you to see The Balcony, of course...

2011-11-19T22:14:00.000-08:00

...BUT if you've already seen it, there's two great shows you should catch before they close tomorrow as well.

The rarely produced Dr. Faustus, at Suffolks' Modern Theatre, directed by my good friend David Gammons

and

Angel Reapers, right next door at the Emerson Paramount.

I won't be able to see Angel Reapers, which kills me: my friend Birgit is in it, and I hear it's just phenomenal.

A million years ago, Birgit and I were Orphelia and Hamlet in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead at the New Rep.

Time really does fly.

Or sail.

And if you HAVEN'T seen The Balcony yet: well, I hope you will! It's our last performance tomorrow, at 2pm.

Hope to see you!

The Balcony - Opening

2011-11-17T11:57:00.000-08:00

The Balcony – A synopsis

In a brothel named The Grand Balcony, the clients act out fantasies of sex and power with the prostitutes. The Madame who presides over this “house of illusions” is named Irma. Among her clients are a man who dresses as a Bishop, another who impersonates a Judge, and a third mimics a General. A fourth client, The Slave, enacts a scenario of extreme degradation. Outside the walls of the brothel, a violent revolution rages. One of Irma’s prostitutes, Chantal, escapes the brothel and joins the insurgents, for whom she becomes a symbol of Liberty. The revolution is led by Roger, Chantal’s lover.

Meanwhile, in Irma’s office, Irma and her assistant Carmen wait anxiously for the real controller of power in the country to arrive: Irma’s lover, the Chief of Police. Irma dispatches Arthur, a gigolo who plays the Executioner in the brothel , to find him. But the Chief of Police appears just after Arthur leaves. The Chief of Police yearns to have his image replicated in the brothel because then and only then will he truly have domination over the minds of the people.

As the revolution reaches a boiling point, the Royal Palace is destroyed and the mysterious and remote Queen and her dignitaries are all killed. An Envoy from the Palace arrives at the brothel and persuades the clients to portray their fantasy roles in earnest, with Irma assuming the role of the Queen. These new leaders appear on the Balcony of the brothel and are cheered by the crowd. Chantal appears on the Balcony with the Queen and is shot by an unknown assassin. Order is restored.

The revolution quelled, the Chief of Police still yearns to have someone impersonate him in the brothel. He has rejected the executioner’s red coat and axe as a symbol of his power, and now wants to be represented by an enormous phallus. Finally, a new client appears to act out the fantasy role of the Chief of Police. It is Roger, leader of the failed Revolution. He engages in a fantasy of power and cruelty, and then castrates himself. The Chief of Police takes Roger’s place in the Tomb, where he enshrines himself for eternity. Irma dismisses the Bishop, Judge and General as though there were mere clients and advises the audience to “prepare their roles”. She prepares herself for another day of work as the sounds of a new rebellion begin to emerge from outside.

(This is my synopsis for the program. We open tonight! Hope you can make it!)

Johnny

The Balcony - Dress Rehearsal

2011-11-16T22:44:00.000-08:00

Bastard. Thief. Prostitute. Iconoclast. Homosexual. Anarchist. Vagabond. Prisoner. Jean Genet is probably one of the most provocative, enigmatic and scandalous playwrights to have ever lived.

Abandoned by his mother as a baby in Paris in 1910, Genet spent most of his life in and out of French prisons for petty crimes. He was, meanwhile, one of the hottest and most respected novelists and playwrights of his time, revered by French intellectuals such as Jean Cocteau and Jean Paul Sartre (who would later save him from a sentence of life imprisonment).

A tale from Genet’s childhood describes how he was accused of stealing. He was innocent of the crime, but was punished for it anyway. This early incident would lead to lifelong obsessions with crime, justice, power, the corruption of authority, the hypocrisy of society, the specter of totalitarianism, and the continuous battle between illusion and reality. Indeed, one is not even sure that this early story of false accusation actually occurred, or was just another part of an elaborate personal mythology created by Genet himself.

Written in 1957 and first produced in London in 1959, The Balcony is considered by many to be Genet’s theatrical masterpiece. Set in a fantastical brothel where the clients act out elaborate power-based fantasies with its whores while a revolution smolders outside, The Balcony’s early productions caused both scandal and outrage. Genet himself leapt onstage during rehearsals of its London premiere and had to be forcibly removed from the theatre. The production, he insisted, needed to be “vulgar, violent and in bad taste” and assured the director, Peter Zadek, “if anybody tells you that you have produced this play in good taste, you will have failed. My tarts must look like the worst prostitutes in the world.” At the same time, the scenes in the brothel needed to be presented “with the solemnity of a Mass in a most beautiful cathedral.” Martin Esslin, in his classic work, The Theatre of the Absurd, concurs: “[The Balcony] illuminates the essence of Genet’s whole approach – the deep inner tension arising from his search for something absolute, beautiful, a sacramental element in an inverted system of values in which evil is the greatest good, and the beautiful blooms in a soil of excrement and sordid crime.”

While I have always been fascinated and inspired by this play’s history, I have attempted to approach The Balcony as a brand new play. The surveillance systems of the brothel are contemporary, the music is pop, the clothes echo a fashion runway, the gender of The General (typically a male role) has been reversed to mirror a world where women may also be powerful and where anyone might be exploited. The brothel itself resembles a blasted sound stage on which many images may be projected, magnified and distorted. The idea of revolution - and whether one is possible in a mind-controlling world of TV, fast food and iPhones - is quite resonant. Themes of corruption, power and greed seem fresh in a country where a small percentage of the population possesses the majority of its wealth.

At the same time, I tried to remain true to Genet’s notion that everything – both onstage and off - is false. The meta-theatricality of the play remains intact and – I hope - goes beyond the stage and into the audience. There is nothing safe here, and I hope you will be provoked and challenged as well as entertained by The Balcony.

I have also tried to adhere to Genet’s sense of dream-like absurdity: these characters are non-realistic; abstractions and symbols of power and desire. Thus we have a “Fluid Ballet” of Blood, Tears and Sperm (imagined from an earlier draft of the play that Genet rewrote), enormous phalluses, and guys running around in furry costumes.

The world that Genet has created – to put it tersely – is weird.

Beautifully, poetically, disturbingly weird.

We have tried to embrace that weirdness.

(These are my notes for the program. We open tomorrow! Very excited.)

The Balcony - Tech

2011-11-13T22:36:00.000-08:00

We've spent the last 24 hours or so in tech for The Balcony. Here's some pics. Beautiful set by Christina Todesco. Beautiful Bishop costume by Gail Buckley. Insanely gorgeous lighting by Jeff Adelberg.

The Balcony - Images

2011-11-10T11:54:00.000-08:00

When I knew I was going to direct The Balcony, I started amassing and taking pictures of what I thought might be in this weird world of Genet's brothel. Here are a few. We go into tech this weekend!

The Balcony

2011-11-08T08:44:00.000-08:00

We go into tech this weekend for The Balcony, Jean Genet's rarely-produced opus of sex and corruption at the Boston Conservatory.

I can't say what an amazing experience it's been working on this project! Very proud of the fearless cast, and a design team to die for: Jeff, Gail, Cristina and David! I am very lucky indeed.

It's only one weekend. I hope you can make it!

A krinkle PUBLIC krinkle krinkle SERVICE krinkle ANNOUNCEMENT

2011-11-01T22:24:00.000-07:00

So, there's this new addition to seeing a play that I guess I'm going to have to get used to: people sitting behind me, loudly eating out of plastic bags.

Theatres now allow you to bring their concessions into the theatre.

This means we all get to enjoy listening to some moron crinkle their candy wrapper during the entire length of the play.

Recently, I strained to hear Audra McDonald sing over this lady eating a bag of rice crackers behind me.

Seriously. RICE CRACKERS. Does a more noisy snack exist in the universe?

Now, I suppose I really can't blame these people for eating the foods that the theatres have told them are OK to bring into the house.

And I understand that theatres need to make money on concessions.

But after TWO shows in a row being ruined by plastic bags crinkling, I would really like to take a moment to beg BEG the theatres to think carefully about the foods they are selling to their audience.

Sell QUIET foods. PLEASE.

Fig Newtons. Licorice. Bananas.

No Rice crackers. No Pop Rocks. No unshelled nuts.

And, under NO circumstances should you allow PLASTIC CRINKLEY BAGS into the theatre.

Here's what you should do: when they buy the food, take it out of the bag FOR them and put it on a paper plate, or in a cup, or a napkin.

BUT NO PLASTIC BAGS. SERIOUSLY. There is nothing worse than a plastic bag in an audience.

And I'm speaking as a performer too.

The last thing you want to hear during your big death scene is someone digging thru their Cheeto bag.

The Hotel Nepenthe - The ebook

2011-10-17T22:24:00.000-07:00

So, this is so cool: here is the "ebook" of The Hotel Nepenthe courtesy of Concord Free Press! You can use the link below to find and purchase it on Amazon.

It's a mere $7.77, the price of a really fancy latte.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Hotel-Nepenthe-ebook/dp/B005WF40TA/ref=sr_1_9?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1318901108&sr=1-9

Hotel Nepenthe is going to be published!

2011-10-05T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is exciting news: my newest play, The Hotel Nepenthe, is going to be published this Fall by Concord Free Press.

Concord Free Press has an interesting approach to publishing: they literally give books away, asking only that readers make a voluntary donation to a cause, someone in need, or a stranger.

As of early 2010, this model has inspired more than $130,000 in donations by thousands of readers.

It's a real honor to be the first play to be published by them!

The publishers also sent me another wonderful surprise: novelist Gregory Maguire (Wicked), who is among the writers they've published (and who came to see the show back in February) has written a wonderful quote for the cover.

Here it is:

“Hotel Nepenthe is a splintered autopsy of cinema noir, skewering egomania and isolation in fin-de-dementia America. Comic? True. True? Tragically so.”

-- Gregory Maguire, author of Wicked

Very overwhelmed and excited!

Catch Up

2011-10-04T21:49:00.000-07:00

So much for blogging about "Mortal Terror, as I promised. The time between then and now just vanished.

So: We closed Sunday, it was quite fun.

Some backstage impressions:

Formula for exiting the stage at the Modern:
1. Exit to wings.
2. Heavy door #1 (do not slam!)
3. Heavy door #2 (see above)
4. Heavy door #3 (ditto)
5. Descend flight of stairs #1
6. Descend flight of stairs #2
7. Heavy door #4
8. Heavy door #5
9. Whew! You've made it to the dressing room, and it only took 15 minutes! But now it's time to run back up again, because that's your cue on the monitor! Yikes!
10. Repeat. I think I lost about 3 pounds running up and down those stairs.

Shared the ladies dressing room with Georgia. (As the only gay guy in the cast, I guess I was sort of an honorary lady!) Georgia could care less: we'd seen anything we might see during Nepenthe, where the four of us shared a dressing room the size of a postage stamp.

My Guy Fawkes beard was made with real human hair, which was really scraggly and sort of freaked me out. It was like wearing a Brillo pad on your face. One performance the strap holding the beard was too loose, and my moustache kept falling into my mouth whenever I spoke. I kept holding my hand to my chin during the scene, like I was listening really hard to Catesby's plot.

I thought I was liberal until I met Stafford Clark-Price, who makes me look like a venture Capitalist. (He's the one who told me about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, among other hair-curling items). He's awesome.

You can play human bocce ball using the wheeled hassocks in the green room.

I drank a lot of coffee during this run. I mean, a LOT. Jerry Kissel makes coffee like rocket fuel. We were all bouncing off the walls.

I somehow cast "The Balcony" and rehearsed/opened Mortal Terror at the same time.

Some of my former Suffolk students were our back-stage crew, that was fun!

The peanut butter brownie next door at Common Grounds is to die for.

It's really hard to get around on your bike downtown.

That's it off the top of my head. It was fun being in a new play. I love new plays. They're like this rare, almost extinct species in Boston.

Actually, right now, plays - new or old or otherwise - are pretty rare: everything is a musical. It feels like Spring! New Rep did Rent, Lyric is doing Big River, ART is doing Porgy and Bess (which I managed to see: marvelous singing) and Huntington is doing Candide (which I'm seeing tonight), Gold Dust Orphans are doing Rocky Horror at Oberon.

I better learn how to sing quick!

Meanwhile, ASP has opened 12th Night (which I can't wait to see sometime this week!) and my good friend David Gammons has directed the world premiere of The Farm at BPT. (BPT is responsible for pretty much all new plays being born here. I'm not sure what we would do without them.)

I start rehearsing The Balcony next week at the Boston Conservatory, where I work. I would love to say that I'll blog about the whole experience. I'll try. It would be fun.

But then the time disappears...

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

2011-09-10T21:42:00.000-07:00

So, I've found found a new thing to be obsessed over:

Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is a floating island of garbage.

It's twice the size of Texas.

It's called The Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

A huge floating Island of Trash.

Isn't that just great?

Assholes of America

2011-09-05T20:47:00.000-07:00

Hello.

My name is Jerry B.

And I'm an asshole.

I'm that guy who just stole your parking space.

I'm the dude talking loudly on his cellphone in the crowded subway car during rush hour.

I'm the gent in the "8 items or less" aisle with 47 items.

4 out of 10 Americans are complete assholes, and our numbers are growing everyday.

We are your neighbors, your co-workers, your friends.

But assholes need your help.

(Sarah McLaughlin song begins to play softly in background)

That's why there's Assholes of America.

Assholes of America is a grassroots organization dedicated to the protection and preservation of the American Asshole.

For just 5 dollars a day - the price of a latte - you can help an asshole like Linda.

(Picture of Linda, wearing a "Michele Bachmann for President" T-shirt)

5 dollars will help Linda buy that handbag that she can rest on the only empty seat on the bus.

Or Tim.

(Picture of Tim. He's a total douche.)

Your donation will help Tim fill the tank of his SUV a quarter of an inch; just enough fuel for him to tailgate you dangerously before passing in the breakdown lane while honking his horn needlessly.

And how about Joanne?

(Picture of Joanne. She's a real C U Next Tuesday.)

Your generous donation will help Joanne attend Tea Party Rallies, maintain her snarky blog and audition for "The Bachelor".

Donate today, and we'll send you this "Go Fuck Yourself" tote bag, absolutely free.

So please: send your generous, non-tax deductible donation right now.

The Assholes of America won't thank you. But what did you expect?

We're assholes.

Elsinore

2011-08-28T12:02:00.000-07:00

We took a day trip while in Copenhagen to visit Kronborg Castle, otherwise known as Elsinore. Here are some pics!

Some interesting facts:

The Great Hall of Elsinore is the largest one in Europe after the one in Versailles, but the two rooms couldn't be more different: Versailles is all mirrors and gold and bling, while Elsinore, as you saw, is pretty plain and empty and pristine.

Elsinore was a major gateway for ships, and all merchants had to pay a toll at Elsinore before moving onward, which raised a lot of revenue for the King of Denmark.

That big statue of the sleeping giant Dane is in the creepy basement of the castle. His name is Ogier. He's supposed to wake up when Denmark is in trouble to defend her, so it's a good thing he's still asleep, because i wouldn't want to be messing with him!

Hamlet is performed outside on the lawn in the summer (it wasn't being performed when we were there, but I saw that the Propellers were going to be there soon, to perform their Richard III & Comedy of Errors double bill which I had just seen here in Boston).

The first live production of Hamlet that I ever saw was at Emerson College, directed by Maureen Shea, who is a brilliant director (and former teacher of mine). I auditioned for it, but didnt' get cast (though I like to think i was pretty close to getting Rosencrantz...maybe not...) so I ended up house managing the show, which was quite a job, as it was one of the first performances at the newly restored Majestic. I used to go down to the basement and think "Wow! This is where the Group Theatre first read Clifford Odets "Waiting for Lefty" while they were performing "Men in White" upstairs, according to Harold Clurman in "The Fervent Years"! I'm such a nerd!" Anyway, I remember that the revolving Elsinore of Maureen's production looked like a spiral top that was spinning out of control, and I can see how much sense that makes now, as there were so many spiral staircases in the castle, and you did feel like you were spining while you were walking around.

The trio of dancing girls in the fountain of that last picture isn't on the castle grounds, but in the little village nearby. The closest dancing girl is the same model for another of Denmark's famous landmarks: the Little Mermaid statue in Copenhagen.

Mortal Terror

2011-08-27T07:15:00.000-07:00

I'm back from our wonderful trip to Copenhagen (with a side trip to Helsinore to see Hamlet's house. We also saw his post office and convienence store!) and have plunged into rehearsals for Mortal Terror, a new play by Robert Brustein about William Shakespeare, King James, Queen Anne, the writing of MacBeth and the Gunpowder plot.

We are rehearsing and performing it in Suffolk University's beautiful new Modern Theatre downtown.
Beautiful theatre.
Fabulous group of people.
Having a great time so far! Will try to blog about it as we go along...

What is really amazing, for me, about being in the Modern Theatre:

When I was in High School, I used to have a part-time job after school selling earrings on one of those carts in DownTown Crossing. My friends' Mom made the earrings and rented the cart, and I would man it on weekends/after school. And at night, all the vendors would store their carts in the Modern Theatre, which was an empty shell at that point. So I really remember what it looked like in the 80s: it was just a decaying mess. The stage was caved in, and we couldn't park our carts in certain areas, because the roof leaked like crazy.

So it's truly amazing to be in that space now, next to the brilliant Paramount, which was also empty and falling apart during that time.

Farvel!

2011-08-11T10:03:00.000-07:00

Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen
Friendly old girl of a town
'Neath her tavern light
On this merry night
Let us clink and drink one down
To wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen
Salty old queen of the sea
Once I sailed away
But I'm home today
Singing Copenhagen, wonderful, wonderful
Copenhagen for me
I sailed up the Skagerrak
And sailed down the Kattegat
Through the harbor and up to the quay
And there she stands waiting for me
With a welcome so warm and so gay
Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen
Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen
Friendly old girl of a town
'Neath her tavern light
On this merry night
Let us clink and drink one down
To wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen
Salty old queen of the sea
Once I sailed away
But I'm home today
Singing Copenhagen, wonderful, wonderful
Copenhagen for me

- Frank Loesser, 1952

Money Bags

2011-08-09T18:02:00.000-07:00

Remember those two adorable little twin girls on that terrible, horrible, lobotomize-me-with-an-ice-pick-unfunny TV sitcom Full House?

Well, now they're gazillionaires. Not sure how that happened.

But they are.

They own some sort of fashion/merchandising/straight-to-DVD/marketing/clothing EMPIRE.

They are so rich, they could have me killed and would never go to jail.

Anyway, this intrepid duo have recently come out with a new luxury item for their line: a fancy fancy handbag (below).

These bags are apparently made from the creamy, succulent underbelly of a crocodile, which - as everyone knows - is the most desirable and tasty part of the crocodile.

But here's the thing: these handbags cost $39,000.

That's right. 39K. For a purse.

Now, I'm sure it's a very nice bag.

But really:

If you have $39,000 to spend on a handbag, you have too much money.

And if you DO spend it on a handbag: well, there is just something morally and ethically wrong with you.

And I guess I'm fascinated by this costly bag and the timing of its advent because it so perfectly illustrates the widening gap between rich and poor in this country.

In a time when most people are living pay check to pay check
or are unemployed
or are losing their homes,
we suddenly also have this pointlessly expensive...thing.

Paul Krugman wrote recently that our national budget problems could be solved, completely, if we implemented two changes:

1. Fixed our Health Care system, which needlessly costs more than ANY other advanced country

and

2. increased our tax system to something comparable with international standards. Because, in spite of what all the Republicans yell and fume about, our taxes are LOW compared to international standards.

Especially for the wealthiest Americans.

And by "wealthy American", I mean anyone - individual or company - who can afford to purchase a handbag that costs more than what most people earn in a year.

More Summer 2011

2011-08-02T20:34:00.000-07:00

Summer 2011

2011-07-29T20:48:00.000-07:00

Love Song @ Orfeo Group

2011-07-26T12:09:00.000-07:00

My friends Daniel and Georgia and Risher have a wonderful theatre company called Orfeo Group, which performs FREE Thursday night shows during their run every summer. That's right. Free.

This year they are performing Love Song by John Kolvenbach.

In order to keep their shows free, of course, they need support. I'm pasting a really great letter from Daniel below, along with all the info. Go to their show, tell your friends, and if you can, donate!

LOVE SONG
by John Kolvenbach
August 4-27 2011

From August 4 through August 27, 2011 as part of the Charlestown Working Theater's Resident Artists Program, Orfeo Group will present the Boston premiere of John Kolvenbach's 2007 Olivier nominated play Love Song.

Orfeo Group is thrilled to be back on the boards this summer at a new (and, ahem, air- conditioned!) venue. Despite the change of locale, one thing remains the same: the Group's commitment to high quality theatre at low-or-no cost to audiences. Tickets for Friday-Sunday performances are $20. Thanks to the generosity of local donors, Thursday nights mark the return of the "OR-FREE-O" show and are completely free of charge.

Beane is alone, an exile from life. His sister Joan and brother-in-law Harry try to reach him but keep coming up short. Following a burglary at Beane's apartment, Joan is baffled to find her brother blissfully happy and tries to unravel the mystery behind his new love, Molly. An ode to the possibilities of love, John Kolvenbach's comedy celebrates the (re)emergence of love in (un)likely places and (un)expected ways.

Orfeo Group Artistic Director Risher Reddick directs Love Song, which features a quartet of Orfeo Group founders and favorites: Daniel Berger-Jones (Harry), Liz Hayes (Joan), Gabriel Kuttner (Beane) and Georgia Lyman (Molly).

Charlestown Working Theater, 442 Bunker Hill Street, Charlestown, MA
Directions: www.charlestownworkingtheater.org/directions.cfm
BUY TICKETS
Thursdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.

Come check out our new donation plans!

And here's Daniels' letter:

Dear good people of the world who understand that arts and sciences are as important as roads and schools,

I only ask for money every two years or so, so you won't dread getting an email from me, but I have become increasingly excited at what my theater company Orfeo Group is doing. I feel like we're special and here's why: Orfeo won back to back awards for Best production by a Fringe Company in Boston in 2009 and 2010. We have thrown everything into becoming a well reputed company, but we have kept our shows, or some portion of them, FREE, so that our audiences will not be limited by budget. (If you're sold already, skip to the link at the bottom and donate)

If you ever played pretend, that you were a cowboy or a fireman, or a burglar, or a marvel hero, or Superman, or an animal, or an alien, you know that pretending and storytelling are encoded in us from birth. Our imaginations drive us to theatrical experience. They help us explore and understand who were are. They help us understand what drives and motivates others. They help us remember universal human experience. Whether it inspires gut busting laughter, or heart breaking tragedy, the theater is a home and church that should accessible to anyone.

The old model of theater is dying. If we keep ticket prices at $35--$100 a pop, only folks who have already paid off their mortgages will be able to come to a show. Don't get me wrong, I love the old and the rich. I want them there, too. I just want old and young, rich and poor alike to remember the power of story.

In Shakespeare's day, everyone would go. You go to the theater to see your friends. You go to gossip and chat. You attend the theater to part of the theater community, and so you can talk about the story with your friends later, over beers, or tea, or a hookah, or a BBQ. The show we are currently doing, Love Song by John Kolvenbach, is an incredible opportunity to do all of these things including the BBQ (which we do every Sunday after the matinee) and the beer (without which theater "is just a museum").*

Your donation helps curb expenses and expand our audience.

Here's how you help us: Go to www.orfeogroup.org and click Donate (and then donate a whole mess of money).

The other thing you can do is to pass this message along, especially to folks with bigger purses, and especially if they live in Boston. Thanks so much in advance, and don't forget, it's tax deductible! This means, for example, if you're in the 25% bracket, every $400 you give us is $100 you don't have to pay on your federal tax return. If you're like me, you get $1.50 off your taxes for every $10 you donate. Still not bad.

Thanks again, and please be in touch if we haven't been for a while. I wish I had time to write everyone individually. I will make the time to write you back, though.

Ever grateful,

Daniel

*Bertolt Brecht said that. The full quote is, in fact "A theatre without beer is just a museum." Seriously. Look it up.

On the Defense

2011-07-25T11:39:00.000-07:00

It didn't take long for American Conservatives, far-right and otherwise, to jump on the defense after reports that the horrific Olso massacre had been perpetrated by yet another right-wing, gun-crazy nutcase who sited the writings of several American Conservatives in his "manifesto" as inspiration for his cold-blooded rampage.

Conservative Ross Douthat, writing in The Times today, suggested that former Vice-President Al Gore has used similar irresponsible, inflammatory language in describing his environmental concerns.

Please.

I don't remember waves of gun-toting, crazy liberals shooting down known industrial polluters because of anything Al Gore might have said. Did I miss that story?

I also don't recall Timothy McVeigh being a tree-hugging lefty.

Instead of playing the "you're just as bad as us" game, Douthat and his ilk might take a serious look at the poisonous, vitriolic language their fellow Conservatives are spouting out on a daily basis:

Sarah Palin tells her acolytes to "lock and load" and provides a map on her website with gun sites, TARGETS, symbolizing areas controlled by problematic Democrats. One of those people is Gabrielle Giffords. We all know what happened.

Bill O'Reilly repeatedly calls Dr. George Tiller a "baby killer" on his program for providing reproductive health services for women in Kansas until he is assassinated, gunned down, while praying in church.

Michele Bachmann has called on Conservatives to rise up againest our elected government. Her violent language is WELL documented. She and her husband demonize gay people, calling us "barbarians": how much violence has and will result from their ignorant statements?

Meanwhile, what's the worst that the far-left have done to those whose policies they don't agree with?

Well, I recall Michele Bachmann was "glittered" by an LGBT rights activist a few months ago (ie, she had glitter thrown at her). To be fair, that could have got in her contact lenses.

And Rupert Murdoch almost had a pie thrown in his face. Almost: his young wife/body guard jumped on the would-be attacker before any fruit filling could stain Murdochs' suit. That's what you get when you marry Skelator, I guess: never-ending excitement!

Hmmmm. Guns vs. Glitter and Pastries.

Now Ross Douthat (for a Conservative) seems pretty reasonable, even when I don't agree with a word he writes. And he makes some good, responsible points elsewhere in his column.

But please don't even TRY to make a comparison. Yours is the Party of assault weapons, crazy behavior and violent rhetoric.

Accept it and try to deal with it, before more people are murdered.

Guns Guns Guns!!!

2011-07-17T09:59:00.000-07:00

The more I read about Arizona, the more concerned I become that this area is part of the country I live in: a gun-obsessed immigrant-despising loopy red-neck arrogant heat-packin' willful irresponsible Republican hell-hole.

But I wouldn't want to sugar-coat it.

Today in The Times, Frank Bruni describes how Arizona State Senator Lori Klein playfully aimed the red laser sight of her loaded .380 Luger at a newspaper reporter's chest during an interview focusing on her loving embrace of all things gun.

This was, apparently, a silly misunderstanding: she was just demonstrating how this weapon might be used to blow someone's head off, and the reporter had "strayed into the gun's sight".

That was her first story. Now she's gone silent on the subject.

The reporter, Richard Ruelas, has a different story: she purposely aimed the laser beam at him.

That's one way to shut down your critics.

That such an event would occur after the recent Arizona shooting rampage is beyond me.

That shoot-out killed 6 people and wounded 13, including Gabrielle Giffords, the state representative who suffered a bullet in her brain and somehow managed to survive.

Instead of heeding this nasty wake-up call, Arizona is hugging their guns even closer.

Meanwhile, Klein reportedly likes to proudly "pack heat" at the Capitol and says her pink Ruger is "cute".

What...a...crazy...dangerous...moron...

Lobster Roll Recipe

2011-07-15T19:54:00.000-07:00

I was reading The Times, and the food section had this column on finding the best lobster roll in New York City.

And I read the descriptions of the rolls, and I was pretty grossed out by some of the totally unnecessary ingredients: Chives? Tabasco? Lemon? Tarragon? BACON BITS??!!

Please New York, don't fuck with the lobster roll. Look what happened when you tried to make chowder. It was a disaster.

I guess I'm a bit of a purist when it comes to lobster.

I grew up around a lot of fishermen, and we ate a lot of lobster when I was growing up.

I could inhale one of those little suckers dry in about 10 minutes.

As for lobster rolls: no extra ingredients.

No celery.

NO LETTUCE. EVER.

I don't mind mayo, if that's your thing, but only a little.

So, I've decided to share my recipe for the Best Lobster Roll You'll Ever Eat with you.

You need the meat of a whole lobster. It can be chilled, but I think this particular recipe works best if the meat is just a little under room temperature. It needs to be FRESH. If it's frozen, you might as well just give up right now. Lobster meat should NEVER be frozen. That's just wrong. If all you have is frozen, throw it in a pot and make a fish stew instead.

Butter a large delicious hot dog bun and griddle it til it's toasty.

Fill the roll with the lobster meat. ALL of it. No mayo, it doesn't need it.

Melt about a tablespoon of butter (allright, two tablespoons) and drizzle it over the lobster meat.

That's it.

Trust me.

Theatre Story

2011-07-15T19:24:00.000-07:00

We went to the New Rep to see "The World Goes Round" tonight, which is a revue of Kander and Ebb Songs.
And it was very fun. I didn't know many of the songs, so that was interesting. But I know EVERY word of "Ring Them Bells" for some reason.

"And haul me home a Huz if it's the last thing I do!"

Anyway.

Watching the show reminded me of "Cabaret", which was the last show I did at New Rep, and that reminded me of a really funny back-stage theatre story. Really, front stage story. You want to hear it? It's pretty funny.

So, we're at the end of a matinee performance of "Cabaret". And it's been a really rough show. Like, everything went wrong. One of the spotlights, which was one of those new-fangled, twirly lights, blew a fuse and was going crazy and twirling around during the show over our heads and lighting crazy parts of the room: the wings, the audience, everywhere but the stage. It was like one of those berserk robots from "Wall-E".

Then, at the top of Act Two, I'm supposed to discreetly sneak out behind the Kit Kat girls while disguised as one of them, for this big surprise reveal and I creep out behind them, trip over the step in my high heels, fall flat on my face and almost knock over a few girls to boot. It was like candle pin bowling for Wiemar hotties.

So much for that surprise!

But then, just when you think things couldn't get any worse: we've finally made it to the end of the show, and the Nazis have taken over, and it's supposed to be very dark and disturbing and I'm downstage trying to be creepy and menacing and I hear the audience start to giggle and I'm thinking "what's going on? Why are they laughing?" And I turn upstage, and the rest of the cast is dancing in lines behind me, and what happened was Shannon Lee Jones had passed by Paul Giragos, who's playing Ernst, and her long red fabulous Fraulein Kost wig got caught on his cuff links and had come right off, and was dangling off of his sleeve like a rabid chihuahua. And poor Shannon is singing in her wig cap and Paul can't get her wig off his sleeve. I mean, it was just a train wreck! And horrifying. And the audience is just cracking up, and I have to admit it was pretty freaking hilarious, now that I think of it.

But what was really great was the audience all stood up at the end of that show. I guess they must have all been thinking: "Good God, they just went thru Hell!"

And I have to say, that was really sweet of them, that they had a sense of humor, and rolled with the punches.

Because things happen onstage. Lights break. Props fall apart. Costumes disintegrate.

Actors forget their lines. Or miss an enterance. Or fall down.

And all you can do is forgive yourself and move on.

Cold Creek Manor

2011-07-13T10:46:00.000-07:00

It's rare that I have any extra time during the school year to eat or sleep, much less watch a random movie on TV.

But I was puttering around the house the other day, and I accidentally watched the 2003 thriller "Cold Creek Manor", starring Dennis Quaid, Sharon Stone and Stephen Dorff.

And I have to say, it made "The Fan" look like "The Bicycle Thief".

How can I get those 118 minutes back?

Dennis Quaid and Sharon Stone play yuppie couple Cooper and Leah Tilson, who move into the old, creepy house of the title in the middle of Nowhere, USA, to get away from it all.

The toothless yokels in town immediately despise the Tilsons, because they're rich, educated city folk and their daughter is Kristen Stewart.

Kristen Stewart's character is also named "Kristen". So you really get to see her stretch her acting muscles!

There's also a son character, I think...

Cold Creek Manor previously belonged to local neer-do-well Stephen Dorff, who has just been released from prison and is pissed off that his ancestral home has been sold out from under him while he was in the joint.

He shows up unannounced at the Tilson's doorstep, all sweaty and dirty, and guilts them into having him stay for dinner.

Stephen Dorff is so dirty and crude that it's actually distracting. You keep praying that he'll shower and floss.

During dinner, he burps loudly and makes overt goo-goo eyes at the Tilson's under-age daughter.

He also kills her horse and leaves it in the swimming pool. Try to get the pool service to take care of that!

This behavior would be enough for any normal yuppie to send him away forever, but since this is a horror film, he's immediately given a job as their handyman.

Stephen Dorff spends most of the film spitting, scratching himself and avoiding anything resembling a shirt.

He's clearly off his rocker. We know this because he's dating Juliette Lewis.

He wants to get the Tilsons off his former property for some reason (could it have something to do with his missing wife and children, who disappeared years ago and whose bodies were never found? I wonder...), and he comes up with all these kooky schemes worthy of a Scooby Doo episode to scare them away, the best being depositing poisonous snakes throughout the house for the unsuspecting family to stumble upon.

No one is bitten, unfortunately, but the ensuing scene of the Tilson family running thru their spooky abode, clutching each other, Dennis Quaid shrieking like a little girl, while snakes pop out of various nooks and crannies in their house like Whack-A-Moles is probably one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I've ever seen.

According to Wikipedia, this pile of crap not only unleashed Kristen Stewart into the world, but also ended up grossing $29,119,434.

How...is...that...possible...?

Krispy Kremed

2011-07-09T15:05:00.000-07:00

Mmmmmm. Krispy Kremes...

Here’s my theory: The Shaggs was Krispy Kremed by New York.

Let me elaborate:

It seems I’m not the only one who was mystified by the rather blah response New York City had for the excellent musical play, The Shaggs, which closed early at Playwrights Horizons a few weeks ago.

I slapped up a very hurried, gushing post about it, hoping that someone might read it and catch the last few performances, because I really thought it was great.

Since then, I’ve learned a few additional items about this musical play (thanks to a post by Art Hennessy over at Mirror Up To Nature).

First of all, the average critical response for The Shaggs in NYC was, according to the website Stagegrade, a C+.

So, it wasn’t just The New York Times blasé review that helped to bury the production (and cause it to close early): there was a collective “eh” going on with the NY critics in general.

The other interesting fact I learned was that The Shaggs is NOT a new musical: according to a responder on Art’s blog, The Shaggs has actually been kicking around for a while now: it had runs in Chicago and LA before coming to NYC. (That should teach me to read my program more carefully!)

I am glad to hear that the show has had prior incarnations: I guess I always assume that a play at Playwrights Horizons is brand spanking new, but that's clearly not always the case!

The original album cover of The Shaggs only album, "Philosophy of the World"

But rather than adding to the mystery of why The Shaggs - which enjoyed success and fine-tuning in other major cities - failed to find an audience or positive critical response in NYC, that last piece of information actually explains it (to me, anyway).

Allow me to clarify what I mean via a donut metaphor:

A few years back, there was this craze for Krispy Kreme donuts.

For healthy people who might not know what I'm talking about, Krispy Kreme is a Southern pastry chain whose donuts are a delicious, obsessive thing: hot and gooey glazed little heart attacks that make the fillings in your teeth ache.

Just writing about them is making me drool.

My first encounter with a Krispy Kreme donut was during a trip to New Orleans. It literally changed the way I think about donuts. We didn't have Krispy Kreme donuts in Boston at the time (Dunkin' Donuts pretty much rules the roost here, and while I never really liked Dunkin' Donuts donuts, I enjoy their coffee immensely). So I thought of Krispy Kremes as a local Southern delicacy, a pathway to the city's culture.

Hell, they were just freaking yummy.

So, when we weren't eating beignets, we were eating Krispy Kremes.

When I go to visit my sister in Raleigh, NC, you can buy them in her supermarket.

I mean, they're common. In the South.

But like I said, there was a craze, and the Krispy Kreme traveled East.

And New York City was pretty keen on them for a while.

I remember going into a New York Starbucks, and there they were, in the pastry bin: 3 dollars for a raspberry-filled Krispy Kreme.

And the guy standing next to me in line said: "Oh, those donuts are SO good. You should really try one. YOU CAN ONLY GET THEM IN NEW YORK."

And I laughed, because I thought he was kidding. But he wasn't. He was dead serious.

So I told him that in the Southern part of this country, you could eat a Krispy Kreme donut at pretty much any truck stop you might wander into. For 69 cents. And he was very surprised. And he was also something else: he was a little annoyed. Pissed-off, even.

The notion that this donut existed outside of New York, that someone else - FROM somewhere else – had made this little pastry, and that other people – NON-New Yorkers, for God’s sake – could purchase and enjoy them, was unfathomable and insulting.

And that, to me, sort of sums up New York City: they are plagued with an arrogant, incurable myopia, an unfathomable insularity and a prickly xenophobia.

It's a city as narcissist: nothing exists outside of itself. Everything is only an extension of itself. Or doesn't exist at all.

So, if something – a play, a donut - came from elsewhere, New York City either needs to reject it, or claim it as their own. They chew and swallow, or spit out. The idea of sharing is not on the table.

New York is a bully: big, greedy and endlessly impressed with itself.

They do not follow trends, they MAKE them, dammit!

So when some musical comes in from… “Where? – Los Angeles? Isn’t that that place on the other side of the country, where they drive a lot and have no subway or culture and make TV? Chicago? What sort of hillbilly, Po-dunk place is that? Oh, Steppenwolf! Yeah, I heard of them. But Steppenwolf is from New York. Aren’t they?”

And I’ve experienced this phenomenon repeatedly.

On our last visit to NYC, Tommy and I bought some fun summer shoes by a Canadian company called “Native”. Not that it mattered to us, but the gal selling the shoes echoed the same mantra that all denizens of that city drone, and seem to believe: “You can only get these in NEW YORK. We are the sole distributor. Unless, of course, you want to go to Canada.”

And she rolled her eyes at that ridiculous thought!

Canada? Ha! Does that place even exist? Isn’t that some backward moose-country those South Park guys are always making fun of?

Of course, when we got back home, I saw the same shoes at a shop in Harvard Square. “We’ve been selling these for 3 years now”, the guy at the counter quietly told me.

Similarly, when gay marriage was recently legalized in New York, you would think that New York was the first state to do so, rather than the sixth. The five other states - along with Washington DC - that had legalized gay marriage before them, well: they aren't NEW YORK.

But just because you are the biggest and loudest and most ostentatious, doesn't necessarily make you the best, or the first, or better.

There is the hard fact: By legalizing gay marriage, New York has actually doubled the number of gay people who can marry in this country. Just like that. Don’t get me wrong: that is a wonderful thing!

But rather than feeling like NYC was joining, sharing in something that other states had pioneered - I felt as though they were taking something away.

The general buzz was: “Finally! Gay marriage actually means something now! Because New York said so!”

In paraphrase of The Times and Cuomo and New Yorkers in general: “New York is the most progressive state in the union, as well as the cultural and economic capital of the country…by legalizing gay marriage, other states will surely follow suit…”

Blah blah blah…

But here's the thing: New York really ISN'T the most progressive state in the country. If that were true, they would have been FIRST. But they weren’t first. Massachusetts was first, along with Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Washington DC and Iowa.

Yes, New York: Iowa beat you.

It's a state in the mid-west. Home of John Wayne, John Wayne Gacy, Michele Bachmann. And gay marriage.

Going from that list, it would seem that New England is the most progressive area in the US, at least in terms of gay marriage.

But you would never know! Gay marriage: you can ONLY get it in NEW YORK!

I don’t mean to make this a petty competition. And perhaps New Yorkers needed to create this mystique about their city in order to justify choosing to live in such a notoriously difficult, expensive, crowded place.

But it’s truly staggering how New York continually pats itself on the back and ignores or dismisses accomplishments from anywhere else on the planet. I mean, I'm happy for New York, I really am, and it's an amazing city. But really: can New York celebrate something without laying claim to it?

Mike Daisy said it best in the opening to one of his monologues: “New York City is like fucking Paris Hilton. While it's happening, you keep thinking: "Oh my god: I'm fucking Paris Hilton." And Paris Hilton is thinking: "Oh my God: I'm Paris Hilton."

There is a plus side to this thuggish culture, however: it’s great when you’re FROM New York.

New York has a fierce loyalty to those who survived and obeyed its rules, and it must be said: it takes care of its own. Theatrically, that means that it will promote and champion the work of New York theatre artists over everyone else, and shun any infiltrators from out of state. It's about as welcoming as a snake pit to an outsider.

This has created a cache that New York theatre artists enjoy more than anywhere else, especially outside of New York. All our cultural saviors: artistic directors, playwrights, actors, designers MUST be from there. And if you're not from New York, or working there, well, you're not a serious artist, are you? You're just a grass-chewing yahoo.

So, that’s what I think happened to The Shaggs. It was Kremed. If the show had originally been nourished and wrought in New York, I think it would have received kinder notice from the New York press, better word of mouth, and perhaps found the larger audience that it deserved.

I also think, as a side note, that one of its themes sealed its fate.

The Shaggs was, among other things, an eloquent examination of reaching for your dreams and failing. Miserably.

That is a hard truth to deliver in a city inhabited and built on the backs of hopeful dreamers all fighting and clawing for recognition and acceptance and security like crabs in a bottle.

It attempts to shatter the myth that New York champions and re-invents, over and over again:

If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere…

Bachmann The Barbarian

2011-07-07T06:44:00.000-07:00

Speaking of gay people and closets and homophobia:

There's been some attention being paid lately to Marcus Bachmann, creepy husband of hopeful Republican Presidential candidate and official dingbat Michele Bachmann.

Marcus Bachmann is a therapist whose clinic provides "reparative therapy" to us sick, disgusting gay people. (This clinic also receives buckets of government money to deliver these nebulous services. Then again, the Bachmann family farm - it was revealed recently - receives buckets of government money as well. Which is pretty hypocritical for a such a "no government hand outs"-type of gal like Bachmann. But that's another story.)

Here's what Marcus Bachmann had to say about gay people:

"We have to understand: barbarians need to be educated. They need to be disciplined. Just because someone feels it or thinks it doesn’t mean that we are supposed to go down that road. That’s what is called the sinful nature. We have a responsibility as parents and as authority figures not to encourage such thoughts and feelings from moving into the action steps…"

Isn't that charming?

What's even more disturbing is that when Marcus Bachmann opens his mouth to deliver these words, his purse falls out. His voice sounds - as a friend pointed out - just like Corky St. Clair from "Waiting for Guffman".

"Gays are just bastard people!"

Now, I am certainly not suggesting that Marcus Bachmann is gay. That would be insulting. To gay people. "Gay" implies that you are comfortable with yourself and your sexuality. So, no, Marcus Bachmann is certainly not gay. He's MARRIED, after all! To a Christan hottie!

But he certainly seems obsessed with gay people.

He talks about gay people even more than me. And I am gay.

Which reminds me of some other straight guys who liked to talk about gay people a lot.

Like Larry Craig - he of the wide stance and penchant for airport bathroom shenanigans.

Or George Alan Rekers, author of the repellent "Growing Up Straight: What Every Family Needs To Know About Homosexuality" and frequent customer of "Rentboy.com" for all his European travel needs.

All I'm saying is: when some straight guy starts talking about how to "fix" gay people, maybe they should really be trying to fix themselves.

Acting Straight (Again)

2011-07-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

I had an audition today - which is usually hell - but it was pretty quick and painless and enjoyable.

And I really love the play, so it was fun to read for it, whether I get cast or not.

And I love the character, because he's nothing like me.

He's this uber-straight, alpha male, heterosexual, self-described neanderthal.

And I love trying to transform into that.

And I love that I had the opportunity to do that, because I remember when it wasn't always that way.

By that, I mean - once upon a time - openly gay actors were seldom cast in straight roles.

Not only that, but openly gay actors were seldom allowed to play openly gay roles - ie, the actor usually had to be openly straight to make the gay character more palatable to a heterosexual audience: ("Oh, that's OK, he's only PRETENDING to be queer.")

And that's really film acting I'm talking about here, stage is quite different (and more inclusive).

Being an openly an gay film actor really held no advantage at all. In fact, it was a marked disadvantage. Unless you were British, in which case the rules are different.

Thus we have Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal in "Brokeback Mountain"
Sean Penn in "Milk".
Daniel Day Lewis in "My Beautiful Launderette".
Gary Oldman in "Prick Up Your Ears"
Eric McCormack on "Will & Grace"
Billy Crystal on "Soap"

And those are just off the top of my head. But the list goes on and on.

And don't get me wrong, those performances were fine. Incredible, in most of those above examples.

But that's because the actors were good, not because they were straight.

And if any of those actors had been openly gay, they probably would not have been cast.

And that's a shame.

And that's why there's still a closet.

There was - is - an unwritten, exclusionary rule.

And an openly gay actor in a major Hollywood film is still rare. VERY rare. Like you can count them on one hand.

But that's changing.

Tonight, I was watching "The Big C". And there's John Benjamin Hickey making out with Cynthia Nixon. And I realized that both these actors are, in "real life", gay. And probably, if I wasn't LOOKING for it, if I hadn't been thinking of these things already, I never would have even thought of it at all.

Because they were doing their jobs. They were ACTING. They were playing someone else, and I believed it.

And that's just the way it should be.

They are actors. Good actors. It doesn't matter that they're gay or straight.

They should be able to play anyone.

The Shaggs

2011-07-01T16:41:00.000-07:00

Tommy and I went to NYC again for a visit and saw some excellent shows.

One was a piece I had been really excited to see: The Shaggs - Philosophy of the World at Playwrights Horizons.

I first heard of The Shaggs via a New Yorker article by Susan Orlean that came out maybe 10 years ago.

If you don't know who The Shaggs are, they were a rock band comprised of three teen-aged sisters, forced into formation by their deluded and rather abusive father in the late 1970s.

The father took all three of them out of school, threw them in the basement with a drum set and some guitars and told them to write music.

The fact that none of them had any previous training, lessons or musical ability seemed a minor speed-bump to Dad.

Anyway, they wrote enough music for an album, which their father paid to have professionally recorded and the rest is History.

Listening to the Shaggs is an experience like no other. It's really kind of amazing. And indescribable.

So I was really excited to see the musical.

And GOD WAS IT GOOD!

I can't tell you how amazing I thought this was: the cast, the music, the story, the direction, the design. Everything was just stunning.

So I was really, truly surprised and shocked to hear after seeing the show that not only were they not extending their run, but they were actually closing early!
This weekend is your last chance to see it in NYC, and I really, truly hope you can!

From what I gathered, they received a mixed review from the New York Times, and they couldn't recover.

I didn't read the review, but I can't imagine what they didn't like about it. I really can't. I mean, it's great.

But I'm not a critic (obviously!)

So all I can say is that I was incredibly moved and tickled and enthralled by The Shaggs, from beginning to end.

I hope that the piece finds a home and a longer life somewhere (I could totally see SpeakEasy or ART eating this up!). It really deserves to be seen by many people!

Salt Girl Slide Show

2011-07-01T14:17:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking of The Salt Girl a lot lately. It was a scary, fun, exhausting piece to write and perform, and I'm so grateful for the amazing group of people that I got to work with when it first opened, almost two years ago. I'm really hoping to perform it again soon.

Prior to opening at the Boston Playwrights Theatre, BU Today did a lovely little slideshow about the piece by Vicky Waltz, which I've pasted below. The TV sets hadn't been installed yet at that point, and I'm wearing my street shoes, but it still makes me nostalgic for that wonderful, creative, frenzied period right before the audience joins you...

John Kuntz Sprinkles Dark Humor Through Salt Girl

Solo performance debuts at Playwrights’ Theatre

By Vicky Waltz

In the slide show above, John Kuntz (GRS’05) discusses his one-man play The Salt Girl, premiering November 5 at the Boston Playwrights’ Theatre.

John Kuntz likes to talk to himself. “I do it all the time,” he says. “And I have fabulous conversations with myself.”
That habit comes in handy on stage — the playwright and actor has written and starred in six one-man shows. His most recent, a darkly comic drama called The Salt Girl, debuts tonight at the Boston Playwrights’ Theatre.
“In my other one-man shows, I generally play between 30 and 40 roles,” says Kuntz (GRS’05). “The Salt Girl is different because I play only one — for two whole hours.”
Told from the viewpoint of Quint, a lonely, middle-aged gay man, The Salt Girl explores the character’s search for identity, acceptance, and closure. The play opens as Quint is about to commit suicide. Moments after he swallows a handful of pills and ties a plastic bag over his head, his cell phone rings.
“Your father was in an accident,” the caller tells him. “His condition is serious.”
Past and present collide as Quint sits with his comatose father and revisits painful memories. Kuntz moves through decades, transforming from embittered adult to awkward teenager, and back. He recalls his older sister, who vanished before he was born, his mother, who died when he was a child, and former lover Ted, who seduced him when he was 15.
“I am absolutely fascinated by Quint,” says director David R. Gammons. “I feel so much for him — for his loneliness and disconnection.”
To emphasize Quint’s detachment from reality, set designers constructed an enormous wall of 25 television sets that play snippets of old movies, commercials, and home videos.
“The screens represent fragments of Quint’s memories, fantasies, and desires,” says Gammons. “Most one-person shows don’t have a set at all, and we’ve created this dense and layered world with lots of props and music and projections.”
Kuntz, a graduate of the GRS Creative Writing Program, has written 14 plays, including the solo show Starf*ckers, winner of an Elliot Norton Award. Another, Jasper Lake, debuted at the Boston Playwrights’ Theatre in 2004 and went on to receive Kennedy Center honors, with the Paula Vogel National Playwriting Award of the center’s Michael Kanin Playwriting Awards Program.
He compares acting in a show that he’s also written to being inside a clock. “When I’m writing a play, I see only the face of the clock,” he says. “But when I’m acting in it, I can see all the gears and say, ‘This is too long and this needs to be moved.’”
Being both playwright and actor saves time because “it eliminates the bickering that typically occurs between the actors and playwright,” Kuntz continues. “The playwright has the final say, of course, but sometimes the actor is right. And because I’m both — well, I guess I’m always right!”

The Salt Girl opens November 5 at 7:30 p.m., and runs Thursdays to Sundays at the Boston Playwrights’ Theatre, 949 Commonwealth Ave., through November 22. Tickets are $30 for general admission, $25 for seniors, $10 for students (ID required) and may be purchased online, by phone at 866-811-4111, or in person at the Boston Playwrights’ Theatre. Performance times vary; check the calendar. This play contains nudity. For more information, call 617-353-5443.
Vicky Waltz can be reached at vwaltz@bu.edu.

Bachmann's Waterloo

2011-06-28T11:36:00.000-07:00

Oh, Thank you, glorious Satan, for allowing Michelle Bachmann to run for President!

This is going to be QUITE entertaining; watching the ignorant, incoherent, bigoted, mis-informed blather spew from her lips for the next several months.

Bachmann announced her candidacy in her hometown of Waterloo, Iowa yesterday and already the fun is starting!

This is from the New York Times:

"She spoke adoringly of her town, recalling the Dairy Queen, her house on East Ninth Street and the Wonder Bread Factory, where her mother picked up ingredients for her favorite mayonnaise and lettuce sandwiches. But as she stood in her old neighborhood, she misstated a piece of Iowa lore as she explained the important role that Waterloo had in shaping her character.

"John Wayne was from Waterloo, Iowa," Mrs. Bachmann told Carl Cameron of Fox News in an interview. "That's the kind of spirit that I have, too."

The actor was actually born in Winterset, Iowa, which is about 150 miles southwest of Waterloo. It was John Wayne Gacy, known as the killer clown who raped and murdered 33 teenage boys in the 1970s, who lived in Waterloo."

Bachmann later dismissed the error with an "Oh, well. I'm not perfect!"

No shit, Michele. No shit.

John Wayne. John Wayne Gacy. One of these things is not like the other.

Just to be clear: this moron wants to RUN OUR COUNTRY! Unbelievable!

A brain-dead chimp with head lice and a yeast infection would make a better President.

Actually, Gacy would have made an excellent running mate!

Too bad he was executed in 1994.

Stick Fly on Broadway

2011-06-27T11:43:00.000-07:00

Just heard the terrific news that Boston-area playwright and fellow Huntington Theatre Playwrighting Fellow Lydia Diamond will have her play produced on Broadway!

Stick Fly will open at the Lyceum Theatre in November, produced by pop star Alicia Keyes and directed by Kenny Leon (who directed the production here in Boston).

Wow! That is such amazing news!

Congrats to Lydia!

Free Recital

2011-06-19T08:40:00.000-07:00

Brian Calhoon, who is a talented percussionist/vocal performer, is giving a free recital:

Boston Public Library

Thursday, June 23, at 2pm.

A one hour program of solo marimba & voice music that will include both new and familiar adaptations, and a world premiere.

Thursday, June 23, 2:00pm
Boston Public Library (BPL)
Rabb Lecture Hall

700 Boylston St.

Boston, MA 02116

The BPL is located at the Copley Square T-stop on the Green Line. Enter the library on Boylston (not Dartmouth), and proceed to the lower level to Rabb Lecture Hall.

This event is free and un-ticketed. For more information, please see below:

Facebook event

www.briancalhoon.com
www.bpl.org

Brian Calhoon
percussion | marimba | voice

Spring 2011

2011-06-18T20:06:00.000-07:00