Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Uncle Vanya

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!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Food for Thought

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/

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Burning


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.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

The Balcony Mix


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...


...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!

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Balcony - Opening



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

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.)