Tickets for GLEE CLUB are now available.
Our dates and times are all over the place, so take note and make your plans now.
Performance dates:
Sun Jun 7 @ 2pm
Fri Jun 12 @ 10pm
Sat Jun 20 @ 5pm
Sun Jun 28 @ 3pm
About Me
- Freeman
- Matthew Freeman is a Brooklyn based playwright with a BFA from Emerson College. His plays include THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR, REASONS FOR MOVING, THE GREAT ESCAPE, THE AMERICANS, THE WHITE SWALLOW, AN INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR, THE MOST WONDERFUL LOVE, WHEN IS A CLOCK, GLEE CLUB, THAT OLD SOFT SHOE and BRANDYWINE DISTILLERY FIRE. He served as Assistant Producer and Senior Writer for the live webcast from Times Square on New Year's Eve 2010-2012. As a freelance writer, he has contributed to Gamespy, Premiere, Complex Magazine, Maxim Online, and MTV Magazine. His plays have been published by Playscripts, Inc., New York Theatre Experience, and Samuel French.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
One of the scariest things you'll ever read
We tortured prisoners, and this man's argument is...we were good at it?
Marc A. Theissen condones, promotes and defends torture. He is "a visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution, served in senior positions in the Pentagon and the White House from 2001 to 2009, most recently as chief speechwriter for President George W. Bush."
This man was and is a major speaker for the political establishment. And no, I don't qualify that as "for the past 8 years." The political establishment is what it is. Even with a new administration, we need to see justice done. We have no 'values' that are being expressed right now.
These men are admitting and defending publicly the committing of war crimes. These are crimes against humanity, and that's not hyperbole. We need to put people in jail for this. We put people in jail for petty theft and selling pot and not paying their taxes.
Who are we?
Marc A. Theissen condones, promotes and defends torture. He is "a visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution, served in senior positions in the Pentagon and the White House from 2001 to 2009, most recently as chief speechwriter for President George W. Bush."
This man was and is a major speaker for the political establishment. And no, I don't qualify that as "for the past 8 years." The political establishment is what it is. Even with a new administration, we need to see justice done. We have no 'values' that are being expressed right now.
These men are admitting and defending publicly the committing of war crimes. These are crimes against humanity, and that's not hyperbole. We need to put people in jail for this. We put people in jail for petty theft and selling pot and not paying their taxes.
Who are we?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Ruined
wins the Pulitzer Prize.
Rob Kozlowski says that makes it official: Chicago is better than New York.
Throwdown!
Rob Kozlowski says that makes it official: Chicago is better than New York.
Throwdown!
Newspapers as non-profits
As a group that, by and large, operates in the world of 501(c)3, what dear readers, do you think about the concept of newspapers being transformed into nonprofits?
It makes a certain amount of sense, and it would save them from being plundered by private interests. It would, though, take them out of the endorsements business.
It makes a certain amount of sense, and it would save them from being plundered by private interests. It would, though, take them out of the endorsements business.
How long has...
Nora Ephron been the posterwoman for shallowness? Why am I just getting this memo?
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Nytheatrecast interview with Adam Szymkowicz
My recent interview with Adam Szymkowicz is now live on the nytheatrecast. Here's a link to the website.
To directly download the podcast, click here.
Love to hear your thoughts.
To directly download the podcast, click here.
Love to hear your thoughts.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Pencil this in
Mirror Horror with Trinie Dalton. Hosted by Phantasmaphile. Saturday April 25th at 7pm at Observatory in Gowanus, Brooklyn.
I'll be there. You should be there too. It's going to be supercool.
I'll be there. You should be there too. It's going to be supercool.
Dear Teabaggers
BallsonAynRandschin.
That is my entire political commentary for this foolishness.
That is my entire political commentary for this foolishness.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Playwright interviews Playwright
Had a fun interview with Adam Szymkowicz on Saturday afternoon for the nytheatrecast. Should go live on Wednesday. We discussed his upcoming play Pretty Theft with Flux Ensemble and the rambling, lively chat focused on the idea of theft for playwrights: influence, literary allusions, sampling etc.
I'll post a link when I have one.
I'll post a link when I have one.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Margaret and Helen
Why have I never heard of them before NOW?
Friday, April 10, 2009
Edward Skyler, Deputy Mayor...
...loves Star Wars, and is therefore qualified at age 35 to practically run New York City.
The point I've been making for years is laid out here in plain English.
The point I've been making for years is laid out here in plain English.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Glee Club
GLEE CLUB is a play about singing. It will be a part of the Antidepressant Festival at the Brick Theater in Brooklyn,Performances
Sun Jun 7 2pm – 3pm
Fri Jun 12 10pm – 11pm
Sat Jun 20 5pm – 6pm
Sun Jun 28 3pm – 4pm
The performance times are all over the place, so make note. When tickets are online, and more details are available, you'll have them, dear readers and friends.
Evolution
David Brooks new op-ed in the NY Times has one of my pet peeves embedded inside.
"...Evolution is always about competition, but for humans, as Darwin speculated, competition among groups has turned us into pretty cooperative, empathetic and altruistic creatures — at least within our families, groups and sometimes nations."
Evolution is not about competition, and it's that very misconception that has caused countless debates about evolution to go absolutely haywire. Evolution is a matter of adaptation. I'm not a scientific genius, but I think that's a key distinction. The word competition implies that a form of life that has superior strength will win out over something that is less strong. It's an inherently capitalist view of biology, and its a view that has infected some of the worst thinking humankind has committed to its institutions.
Evolution, according to what I understand, rewards not strength, but usefulness. It's a matter of what works. The question isn't what makes your species simply durable, but what is a functional adaptation based on your environment. Evolution is systemic trial and error, and the idea that "what survives is stronger than what doesn't" applies a uniquely human, particularly ugly morality to what is essentially just a process of figuring out "wings" or "no wings;" "long nose" or "short nose;" "large leaves" or "light leaves."
That is all.
"...Evolution is always about competition, but for humans, as Darwin speculated, competition among groups has turned us into pretty cooperative, empathetic and altruistic creatures — at least within our families, groups and sometimes nations."
Evolution is not about competition, and it's that very misconception that has caused countless debates about evolution to go absolutely haywire. Evolution is a matter of adaptation. I'm not a scientific genius, but I think that's a key distinction. The word competition implies that a form of life that has superior strength will win out over something that is less strong. It's an inherently capitalist view of biology, and its a view that has infected some of the worst thinking humankind has committed to its institutions.
Evolution, according to what I understand, rewards not strength, but usefulness. It's a matter of what works. The question isn't what makes your species simply durable, but what is a functional adaptation based on your environment. Evolution is systemic trial and error, and the idea that "what survives is stronger than what doesn't" applies a uniquely human, particularly ugly morality to what is essentially just a process of figuring out "wings" or "no wings;" "long nose" or "short nose;" "large leaves" or "light leaves."
That is all.
Monday, April 06, 2009
This weekend
I'll be interviewing Adam Szymkowicz for a nytheatre.com podcast. Looking forward to it. I'm sure it'll be fun. Adam's got a show coming up. Pretty Theft. Tickets can be purchased here.
We will talk about that.
Is there a question, dear readers, you'd like to hear me ask this man? What evidence should I confront him with?
We will talk about that.
Is there a question, dear readers, you'd like to hear me ask this man? What evidence should I confront him with?
Friday, April 03, 2009
PLUG!
Hey there!
Because I, personally, am not a 501(c)3, I cannot solicit donations on my own behalf. But, if you're looking to support my work, or just generally like me as a person, or just read the blog regularly... why don't you buy a book or two?
When Is A Clock can be purchased on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, at the Drama Book Shop, or directly through Samuel French.
The Death of King Arthur can be purchased through Playscripts.com.
If you're inclined to write an Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.com review of When is a Clock, I certainly encourage you to do so.
And...if you're in an area of the country with a drama book store you frequent, or a university bookstore, why don't you ask for a copy of When is a Clock?
Thanks!
Because I, personally, am not a 501(c)3, I cannot solicit donations on my own behalf. But, if you're looking to support my work, or just generally like me as a person, or just read the blog regularly... why don't you buy a book or two?
When Is A Clock can be purchased on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, at the Drama Book Shop, or directly through Samuel French.
The Death of King Arthur can be purchased through Playscripts.com.
If you're inclined to write an Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.com review of When is a Clock, I certainly encourage you to do so.
And...if you're in an area of the country with a drama book store you frequent, or a university bookstore, why don't you ask for a copy of When is a Clock?
Thanks!
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Rebeck on plot
Via Via
Theresa Rebeck mounts a defense in the LA Times of plot and structure. Or, it seems, storytelling. There is a loose use, in her piece, of the terms plot, structure and story, but I think I'll focus on structure. As it seems to me that a plot (two guys want to go see a baseball game) isn't really an issue. The issue here is whether or not a hostility towards structure is a good thing.
To quote:
"I seem to be constantly confronted by theater professionals who are more or less annoyed by the prospect of structure. One time I was at a wedding reception, for crying out loud, and I got seated at a table with a really famous genius of the contemporary American theater who had directed a play I admired. He had deconstructed a well-known play but the essence of the original story was still there, and the artistry and strangeness of his interpretation was beautifully balanced within the original tale. When I told him so, he went into a drunken rage. "All that structure, all that story," he growled, pouring himself more wine. "What a nightmare."
"I love structure," I confessed. "I think it's beautiful."
"Yeah, the audience loved it too," he sneered.
OK, I condensed that conversation; there was actually more yelling and drinking involved. But the essence of the exchange is accurate: He was a great artist who looked down on structure and managed to admit that he looked down on the audience too."
With this story, Rebeck is making the point that makes me wince. Which isn't to say I know exactly how I feel about it or I'm sure she's wrong. She is equating a frustration with structure and a dismissal of the audience.
That can be true. It can also be a product of trying to give theatrical audiences something they can't find elsewhere. If you want perfect structure, you don't have to look far: it's on every TV screen, and in every film. Films that eschew traditional structure are praised simply for doing so, it being so uncommon.
On stage, the only limits imposed on us are our own. We aren't slaves to a 44 minute episode plus commerical interruptions, or a one hour and forty five minute screen time to maximize showings. So structure on stage is less a necessity of the market. It's a tool.
How useful is that tool? Most of the time...very. And it's also used prominently. I have a hard time thinking of a recent play that doesn't have some version of a two-act or three-act structure embedded somewhere in its DNA. In fact, Rebeck seems to be mounting a defense for the norm.
It seems more complex and challenging to create something successful for the stage and entirely opposes or breaks down the dramatic structure that seems to somehow be a part of "how plays work." Perhaps Expositon - Rising Action - Climax - Fall Action and Denouement are the Golden Mean of drama; that they spring forth from something more fundamental about how human being perceive and accept storytelling. Dramatic structure isn't something that comes from academia. It seems like it was discovered by an unofficial scientific method, proven on stages again and again.
That's why it behooves most playwrights to attempt to subvert or reject it or try to replace it. Because it's there, and we feel it, and we're reminded of it by people like Rebeck, and professors, and Sophocles. I'd guess that most writers feel, deep in their gut, an urge to plainly deny that their work must fall into these parameters or automatically be judged unsuccessful, messy, or less beautiful.
I love messiness. I'm not, though, dedicated to writing plays that fail to work because I've tried to resist structure. That's the dilemma I feel as I write. That tension is a good and healthy one. It's not a need to reject the audience...it's a desire to give them, and myself, something else. Something they can't find elsewhere.
Theresa Rebeck mounts a defense in the LA Times of plot and structure. Or, it seems, storytelling. There is a loose use, in her piece, of the terms plot, structure and story, but I think I'll focus on structure. As it seems to me that a plot (two guys want to go see a baseball game) isn't really an issue. The issue here is whether or not a hostility towards structure is a good thing.
To quote:
"I seem to be constantly confronted by theater professionals who are more or less annoyed by the prospect of structure. One time I was at a wedding reception, for crying out loud, and I got seated at a table with a really famous genius of the contemporary American theater who had directed a play I admired. He had deconstructed a well-known play but the essence of the original story was still there, and the artistry and strangeness of his interpretation was beautifully balanced within the original tale. When I told him so, he went into a drunken rage. "All that structure, all that story," he growled, pouring himself more wine. "What a nightmare."
"I love structure," I confessed. "I think it's beautiful."
"Yeah, the audience loved it too," he sneered.
OK, I condensed that conversation; there was actually more yelling and drinking involved. But the essence of the exchange is accurate: He was a great artist who looked down on structure and managed to admit that he looked down on the audience too."
With this story, Rebeck is making the point that makes me wince. Which isn't to say I know exactly how I feel about it or I'm sure she's wrong. She is equating a frustration with structure and a dismissal of the audience.
That can be true. It can also be a product of trying to give theatrical audiences something they can't find elsewhere. If you want perfect structure, you don't have to look far: it's on every TV screen, and in every film. Films that eschew traditional structure are praised simply for doing so, it being so uncommon.
On stage, the only limits imposed on us are our own. We aren't slaves to a 44 minute episode plus commerical interruptions, or a one hour and forty five minute screen time to maximize showings. So structure on stage is less a necessity of the market. It's a tool.
How useful is that tool? Most of the time...very. And it's also used prominently. I have a hard time thinking of a recent play that doesn't have some version of a two-act or three-act structure embedded somewhere in its DNA. In fact, Rebeck seems to be mounting a defense for the norm.
It seems more complex and challenging to create something successful for the stage and entirely opposes or breaks down the dramatic structure that seems to somehow be a part of "how plays work." Perhaps Expositon - Rising Action - Climax - Fall Action and Denouement are the Golden Mean of drama; that they spring forth from something more fundamental about how human being perceive and accept storytelling. Dramatic structure isn't something that comes from academia. It seems like it was discovered by an unofficial scientific method, proven on stages again and again.
That's why it behooves most playwrights to attempt to subvert or reject it or try to replace it. Because it's there, and we feel it, and we're reminded of it by people like Rebeck, and professors, and Sophocles. I'd guess that most writers feel, deep in their gut, an urge to plainly deny that their work must fall into these parameters or automatically be judged unsuccessful, messy, or less beautiful.
I love messiness. I'm not, though, dedicated to writing plays that fail to work because I've tried to resist structure. That's the dilemma I feel as I write. That tension is a good and healthy one. It's not a need to reject the audience...it's a desire to give them, and myself, something else. Something they can't find elsewhere.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Beyond Here Lies Nothin'
If the single that's been released is any indication, Together Through Life will be yet another right hook in a stream of pugnacious Dylan albums.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Hostility
Lately, I've read a fair amount and seen a fair amount about how theaters and artists need to explain their economic impact, be in conversation with their community, and express with statistical precision what it is that they do.
Theaters are told to prove what service they provide. To explain how a local theater helps local businesses and lowers the crime rate. How a play impacts the public dialogue. The question has become: what use are you?
It would be hypocritical of me to say that speaking in these terms isn't important and savvy. One key caveat, though, is that this type of thinking should be a part of the burden of creative artists.
There is the natural, in many places well founded, hostility that does and should exist between artists and their communities. Writers, poets, dancers and painters are not community service providers. There is, of course, some peripheral impact of their work in dollar terms, but to provide a community with 'added economic value' that is not their core function.
There is a not subtle hostility towards the arts in our appropriations process... we're given enough money to keep us quiet, but not enough to show that we're valued in the same way, that, say, insurance providers are valued. The message is clear: artists challenge and upset communities as much as they amuse and aid them. Giving artists money to piss everyone off, bore them, or generally make them question whether or not their values make sense doesn't really match the modus operendi of the government. Giving artists money that they then spend to make no profit causes cognitive dissonance in a nation that measures positive consequences with a spreadsheet and a slide rule.
Hostility, skepticism and anger are the hallmarks of some of the greatest works of art. We can see that effect now with Caryl Churchill. She isn't reflecting the generally accepted values of the Western World, she's rebelling against them, attacking them. As well she should. She isn't being what would be termed by members inside her community as filling their needs; she is questioning them. She is being, in that way, a fantastic member of the world community. Better, in my estimation, if she asked her community what they wanted from her, and then gave it to them.
This is not to say that I'm condemning the work of arts advocates. When theater companies and advocacy organizations provide statements and data about the value of their work in dollar terms, they are doing what is asked of them and they are doing exactly as they should. We need to make and attempt to win every argument, including that one. Arts advocates and lobbyists are essential, and I pray they are brilliantly successful at every turn.
Artists, though, exist to agitate, provoke, shock (yes, shock), and question. It's for this very reason that communities, national to local, will always view them as troublemakers, try to marginalize them, or assimilate them. Forcing us to present ourselves as bullet points in a PowerPoint entitled The Impact of Theater Organizations on Job Growth, or somesuch, is a way to bring artists into a harmful worldview: one that places all arts within the framework of sales and subsidies, of evidence and fact. Once we begin to match our impact dollar for dollar with that of a foodbank, a restaurant, MacDonalds, Warner Brothers, or the DMV, we become a part of a logic that inevitably leads to faulty conclusions about value.
So yes, arts advocates should research and know all they can about how we improve our neighborhoods, how we educate, what services we provide. Artists, though, should resist thinking of themselves as reflections of their community, or fillers of needs, or educators. We do our job best when we retain that sense of doubt and anger; and communities, whether they prefer to see it or not, are better served by our hostility than our complicitity.
Theaters are told to prove what service they provide. To explain how a local theater helps local businesses and lowers the crime rate. How a play impacts the public dialogue. The question has become: what use are you?
It would be hypocritical of me to say that speaking in these terms isn't important and savvy. One key caveat, though, is that this type of thinking should be a part of the burden of creative artists.
There is the natural, in many places well founded, hostility that does and should exist between artists and their communities. Writers, poets, dancers and painters are not community service providers. There is, of course, some peripheral impact of their work in dollar terms, but to provide a community with 'added economic value' that is not their core function.
There is a not subtle hostility towards the arts in our appropriations process... we're given enough money to keep us quiet, but not enough to show that we're valued in the same way, that, say, insurance providers are valued. The message is clear: artists challenge and upset communities as much as they amuse and aid them. Giving artists money to piss everyone off, bore them, or generally make them question whether or not their values make sense doesn't really match the modus operendi of the government. Giving artists money that they then spend to make no profit causes cognitive dissonance in a nation that measures positive consequences with a spreadsheet and a slide rule.
Hostility, skepticism and anger are the hallmarks of some of the greatest works of art. We can see that effect now with Caryl Churchill. She isn't reflecting the generally accepted values of the Western World, she's rebelling against them, attacking them. As well she should. She isn't being what would be termed by members inside her community as filling their needs; she is questioning them. She is being, in that way, a fantastic member of the world community. Better, in my estimation, if she asked her community what they wanted from her, and then gave it to them.
This is not to say that I'm condemning the work of arts advocates. When theater companies and advocacy organizations provide statements and data about the value of their work in dollar terms, they are doing what is asked of them and they are doing exactly as they should. We need to make and attempt to win every argument, including that one. Arts advocates and lobbyists are essential, and I pray they are brilliantly successful at every turn.
Artists, though, exist to agitate, provoke, shock (yes, shock), and question. It's for this very reason that communities, national to local, will always view them as troublemakers, try to marginalize them, or assimilate them. Forcing us to present ourselves as bullet points in a PowerPoint entitled The Impact of Theater Organizations on Job Growth, or somesuch, is a way to bring artists into a harmful worldview: one that places all arts within the framework of sales and subsidies, of evidence and fact. Once we begin to match our impact dollar for dollar with that of a foodbank, a restaurant, MacDonalds, Warner Brothers, or the DMV, we become a part of a logic that inevitably leads to faulty conclusions about value.
So yes, arts advocates should research and know all they can about how we improve our neighborhoods, how we educate, what services we provide. Artists, though, should resist thinking of themselves as reflections of their community, or fillers of needs, or educators. We do our job best when we retain that sense of doubt and anger; and communities, whether they prefer to see it or not, are better served by our hostility than our complicitity.
United States of Sheila
Congrats to Sheila Callaghan, who just landed a sweet gig!
GO GET 'EM
Can Americans of the Arts convince Congress to make the NEA's appropriations slightly higher than the retention bonuses paid out at AIG? Stay tuned!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Louise Kennedy can't be shocked
Interesting piece at the Boston Globe. Worthy of your attention.
I came to a shocking realization the other day: Apparently, I can't be shocked anymore.
Seven Jewish Children - Form
I'm struck by the form of Caryl Churchill's play. A play isn't only its text: what's omitted is essential (the play is brief, undecorated by names, dates, places).
She makes this single staging suggestion:
Or is she saying that parents and relations indoctrinate children into a cycle of violence by remaining silent or arguing for silence?
It feels more like a text to be discussed as such, taken in by individuals, as opposed to a text written to be observed by a roomful of people. A poem in disguise.
She makes this single staging suggestion:
So... what does this betray about her intent? It casts a rather wide net to implicate the behavior of adults, or figures of authority, and leave children out of the onstage mix. But let's give her some credit: doesn't this indict authority more than the citizenry? If the citizenry here can be said to be equated with children.
"No children appear in the play. The speakers are adults, the parents and if you like
other relations of the children. The lines can be shared out in any way you like among
those characters. The characters are different in each small scene as the time and
child are different."
Or is she saying that parents and relations indoctrinate children into a cycle of violence by remaining silent or arguing for silence?
It feels more like a text to be discussed as such, taken in by individuals, as opposed to a text written to be observed by a roomful of people. A poem in disguise.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Not to blow smoke up his...
grammar...but Aaron Riccio has quietly become a fantastic resource and critic on his blog. If you don't read his reviews, you should. They're easily some of the best around.
Seven Jewish Children
Here is a bit of the text of Seven Jewish Children - a play for Gaza, by Caryl Churchill.
I don't believe in censorship, but I do believe in debate. I agree that there are perfectly good reasons why this text might be viewed as upsetting, be construed as inflammatory, finger-pointing, unfair. I think that view isn't necessarily one for censorship, it's the view the play invites. That's what makes it powerful. Churchill wants debate, and she's gotten it.
I'm happy to see theater can still have that power. I wonder, though, if it's really a testament to the persistent power of a play, or yet another example of the magnetic effect of this particular struggle.
Tell her, tell her about the army, tell her to be proud of the army. Tell her about the family of dead girls, tell her their names why not, tell her the whole world knows why shouldnt she know? tell her there’s dead babies, did she see babies? tell her she’s got nothing to be ashamed of. Tell her they did it to themselves. Tell her they want their children killed to make people sorry for them, tell her I’m not sorry for them, tell her not to be sorry for them, tell her we’re the ones to be sorry for, tell her they cant talk suffering to us. Tell her we’re the iron fist now, tell her it’s the fog of war, tell her we wont stop killing them till we’re safe, tell her I laughed when I saw the dead policemen, tell her they’re animals living in rubble now, tell her I wouldnt care if we wiped them out, the world would hate us is the only thing, tell her I dont care if the world hates us, tell her we’re better haters, tell her we’re chosen people, tell her I look at one of their children covered in blood and what do I feel? tell her all I feel is happy it’s not her.A full .pdf of the text can be found here.
I don't believe in censorship, but I do believe in debate. I agree that there are perfectly good reasons why this text might be viewed as upsetting, be construed as inflammatory, finger-pointing, unfair. I think that view isn't necessarily one for censorship, it's the view the play invites. That's what makes it powerful. Churchill wants debate, and she's gotten it.
I'm happy to see theater can still have that power. I wonder, though, if it's really a testament to the persistent power of a play, or yet another example of the magnetic effect of this particular struggle.
An idealised past
- The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealised past.
- Robertson Davies, "A Voice from the Attic", 1960
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Obama can use a teleprompter
Dear GOP -
Barack Obama uses a teleprompter. This technology has existed in some form for over 50 years. To use a teleprompter, one must be able read. Much like reading a speech from pieces of paper, only better.
Many people no longer use electric typewriters.
The mail is now delivered without the use of horses.
Also, you have no platform.
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape
Barack Obama uses a teleprompter. This technology has existed in some form for over 50 years. To use a teleprompter, one must be able read. Much like reading a speech from pieces of paper, only better.
Many people no longer use electric typewriters.
The mail is now delivered without the use of horses.
Also, you have no platform.
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Pop Quiz!
How much money will I give George Lucas before I die? Would it be easier if I could just authorize direct deposits from my paycheck directly into his bank account?
For you, my sweet princes and princesses, I offer these burning questions.
For you, my sweet princes and princesses, I offer these burning questions.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Battlestar bloggery
James and Isaac both spent considerable time writing up their views about Battlestar Galactica's finale, I thought, what the heck? Who am I if not a follower of trends?
[THIS IS A SPOILER-FEST!]
I've heard the criticism that Battlestar was made up as they went along, and that it was reflected, to an extent, in the finale. I, personally, have no actual problem with that. I get the impression that the number of seasons that Battlestar was going to exist was an open question for quite some time. I also get the impression that by writing the show this way, it opened the series to making bold moves based on what made sense with the characters and the show at the time. It allowed them the freedom to fail, be eccentric, go for broke. There were things that didn't work (Baltar as cult leader was obviously a weird misstep) but things the most definitely did as well. I think we can overestimate the value of a plan executed well: that can become a clinical exercise. Battlestar's writing was always a mixture of plotting, pretense and experimentation. That's why it could be so gloriously wild and engaging; and also utterly head-scratching.
The finale did boatloads of things right for me. It was freewheeling, it's action was intense, and you had a real sense that many of the characters were in very real jeopardy. The death of Boomer felt right. The music soared. The acting was great. Tori's death was perfect. Cavil committing suicide was, at the very least, ironic. The idea that there is more than one "Earth" was the sort of bold, epic idea that worked perfectly for me. I always suspected that they would wind up being the forefathers of our civilzation, our past in some way. They were, but not without first discovering that they had already found some version of the same story, with a terrible ending.
Isaac brought up a point I would generally agree with about using "God" as a free pass for narrative chicanery. Deus as Deus ex Machina, maybe. What didn't bother me about this in terms of Battlestar's finale was that the question of divine influence was in the show's DNA. The question of monotheism, polytheism, divine actors and prophecy and fate; they were part of the show from the first episode. The idea that they characters would find their way around to an acceptance of something greater than themselves, and not really giving a damn what you call it, was actually an earned moment. It didn't come out of nowhere.
I also like that the show accepted, even reveled in, the fact the the unknowable remains unknowable. There are a lot of people that think the Starbuck story was a cop-out. I don't think it really was. I think they made sense of the All Along The Watchtower thing (which was such a big deal that it needed some firm resolution) and allowed Starbuck to be a mystery. There is, and should be, something mysterious about "divine" intervention. No complaints here. In fact, any attempt to explain her would have almost necessarily reduced her impact.
I was glad, in fact, that even as they clicked through the list of explanations and the tying up of loose ends, it never felt like a checklist for hardcore fans. There were some things that just didn't need more explanation (Daniel, for example) and plenty of expository scenes to sift through in the last few episodes. We already pretty much know what we need to know about the characters, the story. I just wanted to know where their journey ended. And it ended in a satisfying, even poetic, way.
I had a quick back and forth with a friend about the idea of sending all their spaceships into the sun. His thought (not an uncommon one I'm sure) was "Um, they even got rid of their hot showers?" I think it makes sense. For nearly five years, this entire race of people were trapped in ever deteriorating small boxes in the middle of deep space, with no real air, no hope of survival. I can understand how they might say "We prefer grass, my friends. Lets go live in the hills." If anything would make you never want to look at a machine again, it would be the events of Battlestar.
Were there hiccups? Sure. They wrote off the Baltar cult storyline very quickly. Glad to see it go, it should have gone sooner. There were certainly some leaps in logic. And I'll admit the the episodes leading TO the finale were exasperating for me. They were portentous, dull, and sometimes woefully silly (Saul and Ellen Tigh stopped being interesting after New Caprica, if you ask me.) But I don't seek perfection, only satisfaction.
And so, put me in the "Went out with a bang" crowd. Well done, Ron Moore and crew. Well done.
[THIS IS A SPOILER-FEST!]
I've heard the criticism that Battlestar was made up as they went along, and that it was reflected, to an extent, in the finale. I, personally, have no actual problem with that. I get the impression that the number of seasons that Battlestar was going to exist was an open question for quite some time. I also get the impression that by writing the show this way, it opened the series to making bold moves based on what made sense with the characters and the show at the time. It allowed them the freedom to fail, be eccentric, go for broke. There were things that didn't work (Baltar as cult leader was obviously a weird misstep) but things the most definitely did as well. I think we can overestimate the value of a plan executed well: that can become a clinical exercise. Battlestar's writing was always a mixture of plotting, pretense and experimentation. That's why it could be so gloriously wild and engaging; and also utterly head-scratching.
The finale did boatloads of things right for me. It was freewheeling, it's action was intense, and you had a real sense that many of the characters were in very real jeopardy. The death of Boomer felt right. The music soared. The acting was great. Tori's death was perfect. Cavil committing suicide was, at the very least, ironic. The idea that there is more than one "Earth" was the sort of bold, epic idea that worked perfectly for me. I always suspected that they would wind up being the forefathers of our civilzation, our past in some way. They were, but not without first discovering that they had already found some version of the same story, with a terrible ending.
Isaac brought up a point I would generally agree with about using "God" as a free pass for narrative chicanery. Deus as Deus ex Machina, maybe. What didn't bother me about this in terms of Battlestar's finale was that the question of divine influence was in the show's DNA. The question of monotheism, polytheism, divine actors and prophecy and fate; they were part of the show from the first episode. The idea that they characters would find their way around to an acceptance of something greater than themselves, and not really giving a damn what you call it, was actually an earned moment. It didn't come out of nowhere.
I also like that the show accepted, even reveled in, the fact the the unknowable remains unknowable. There are a lot of people that think the Starbuck story was a cop-out. I don't think it really was. I think they made sense of the All Along The Watchtower thing (which was such a big deal that it needed some firm resolution) and allowed Starbuck to be a mystery. There is, and should be, something mysterious about "divine" intervention. No complaints here. In fact, any attempt to explain her would have almost necessarily reduced her impact.
I was glad, in fact, that even as they clicked through the list of explanations and the tying up of loose ends, it never felt like a checklist for hardcore fans. There were some things that just didn't need more explanation (Daniel, for example) and plenty of expository scenes to sift through in the last few episodes. We already pretty much know what we need to know about the characters, the story. I just wanted to know where their journey ended. And it ended in a satisfying, even poetic, way.
I had a quick back and forth with a friend about the idea of sending all their spaceships into the sun. His thought (not an uncommon one I'm sure) was "Um, they even got rid of their hot showers?" I think it makes sense. For nearly five years, this entire race of people were trapped in ever deteriorating small boxes in the middle of deep space, with no real air, no hope of survival. I can understand how they might say "We prefer grass, my friends. Lets go live in the hills." If anything would make you never want to look at a machine again, it would be the events of Battlestar.
Were there hiccups? Sure. They wrote off the Baltar cult storyline very quickly. Glad to see it go, it should have gone sooner. There were certainly some leaps in logic. And I'll admit the the episodes leading TO the finale were exasperating for me. They were portentous, dull, and sometimes woefully silly (Saul and Ellen Tigh stopped being interesting after New Caprica, if you ask me.) But I don't seek perfection, only satisfaction.
And so, put me in the "Went out with a bang" crowd. Well done, Ron Moore and crew. Well done.
The One-Act Treatment?
The NY Post wrote recently about reasons to be pretty and Impressionism getting the "One-Act" treatment. Maybe if you're not Tom Stoppard or Tony Kushner, you're encouraged to make leaner and meaner plays, get the audience in and out, at the speed of a Hollywood comedy.
All dramatic narrative forms have a sort of "act" structure, even if it's truncated. Most television shows have those acts delineated by commercials. But even those television shows that don't have commercials break their narratives up episodically.
Film has an act structure, but that's purely for internal logic. We, as an audience, are intended to feel the narrative shifts, but not literally see them. We don't stand up and get some popcorn at the end of the first act of a movie, we sit tight and watch. That's made for some long-ish films as of late (everything by Peter Jackson, The Dark Knight, Watchmen) but they still eschew literally stopping the action and allowing the audience to stand up and stretch.
So why are we acting like audiences are no longer accustomed to seeing a full length story, in a single sitting, with built in breaks? Hearing about plays getting the "One-Act Treatment" begs the obvious question: is the tightening of a play, shortening, or simply quickening, a solution? An improvement? I'd argue that to make a two-act play into a one-act play just means the audience spent less time watching the same play. How does that help?
You have to imagine that you and your audience are on a first date. Apologize too often, come off as too eager, seem excessively solicitous; it's going to be a turn off. Act like you're lucky they showed up and they'll wonder if they're something wrong with you. If you're more focused on getting them home on time than showing them a good time while they're with you, and you're going to show them you're not very confident in what you've got to offer.
It feels like collapsing two-act plays into one-act experiences is akin to apologizing for your production. Lengthy productions do not, necessarily, fail. In fact, they often thrive. Coast of Utopia sold, I'm told, plenty of tickets. Longer films do just fine as long as they keep audiences entertained. The Dark Knight made nearly $600 million domestically, and it was almost three hours long. August: Osage County has act breaks and overflowing with scenes. I don't think it can be said to be a commercial failure.
What causes an audience to lose interest is failing to be interesting. People don't fork over cash to get less; they pay to see as much of what they enjoy as possible. Fix the play, not the length of the play.
All dramatic narrative forms have a sort of "act" structure, even if it's truncated. Most television shows have those acts delineated by commercials. But even those television shows that don't have commercials break their narratives up episodically.
Film has an act structure, but that's purely for internal logic. We, as an audience, are intended to feel the narrative shifts, but not literally see them. We don't stand up and get some popcorn at the end of the first act of a movie, we sit tight and watch. That's made for some long-ish films as of late (everything by Peter Jackson, The Dark Knight, Watchmen) but they still eschew literally stopping the action and allowing the audience to stand up and stretch.
So why are we acting like audiences are no longer accustomed to seeing a full length story, in a single sitting, with built in breaks? Hearing about plays getting the "One-Act Treatment" begs the obvious question: is the tightening of a play, shortening, or simply quickening, a solution? An improvement? I'd argue that to make a two-act play into a one-act play just means the audience spent less time watching the same play. How does that help?
You have to imagine that you and your audience are on a first date. Apologize too often, come off as too eager, seem excessively solicitous; it's going to be a turn off. Act like you're lucky they showed up and they'll wonder if they're something wrong with you. If you're more focused on getting them home on time than showing them a good time while they're with you, and you're going to show them you're not very confident in what you've got to offer.
It feels like collapsing two-act plays into one-act experiences is akin to apologizing for your production. Lengthy productions do not, necessarily, fail. In fact, they often thrive. Coast of Utopia sold, I'm told, plenty of tickets. Longer films do just fine as long as they keep audiences entertained. The Dark Knight made nearly $600 million domestically, and it was almost three hours long. August: Osage County has act breaks and overflowing with scenes. I don't think it can be said to be a commercial failure.
What causes an audience to lose interest is failing to be interesting. People don't fork over cash to get less; they pay to see as much of what they enjoy as possible. Fix the play, not the length of the play.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Production Company presents LOVE
Had a chance to see LOVE, the latest production from The Production Company, under the direction of Mark Armstrong, longtime blogger under the moniker Mr. Excitement.
Those who want to see it (and I'm sure you do) should buy tickets online here pretty quickly. I saw it Sunday at 3pm and they had to add seats. Which is, as you probably know, not a small achievement. Especially for so early in the run.
The play itself, by Australian writer Patricia Cornelius, is a love triangle between a lesbian, a prostitute and a guy named Lorenzo. It's not territory that's unexplored, but there's exceptional work on display. The direction and acting are all wonderful, and the play doesn't pull its punches.
Definitely check it out.
Those who want to see it (and I'm sure you do) should buy tickets online here pretty quickly. I saw it Sunday at 3pm and they had to add seats. Which is, as you probably know, not a small achievement. Especially for so early in the run.
The play itself, by Australian writer Patricia Cornelius, is a love triangle between a lesbian, a prostitute and a guy named Lorenzo. It's not territory that's unexplored, but there's exceptional work on display. The direction and acting are all wonderful, and the play doesn't pull its punches.
Definitely check it out.
Battlestar
I accidentally deleted my Battlestar Finale Post from two days ago. Whoop!
I thought it rocked.
That's about it.
I thought it rocked.
That's about it.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
What amazes me
Is listening to people who honestly believe that the government should allow the banking system to fail.
Are these people insane?
Are these people insane?
What's in the pipeline
I'm currently working on a few different projects, and I thought I'd take a second to blog about them. Playwright I am, first and foremost, and it's my hope that those of you who read this blog are interested not only in buffoonery and commentary on the state of all things, but a bit about what goes into trying to make a career of writing, and a bit of the process part.
As of this week, my newest play, Glee Club, has been accepted as a part of the Brick Theater's upcoming summer festival The Antidepressant Festival. This play is far from complete, but what I do have down on paper is promising. I have a few different modes as a playwright, and I tend to sort of shift between them. I don't think I really have a single voice as a writer, just like I don't have a single voice as a person. I write some relatively silly plays, some more serious, and some that sort of hover in the middle.
Glee Club is undoubtedly on the sillier side, and I began to develop it for the purposes of submitting it to the Antidepressant Festival. I couldn't think of anything more expressly free and hopeful than singing in a group. There's something just plain odd and unpretentious about a glee club. Hell, the name itself implies its intentions: be happy, singing to make yourself and others feel good.
But, of course, human beings are flawed and if the group is entirely made up of men, I'd expect a little competitiveness and judgment and bull headedness to arise. Turn natural aggression up to 11 and try to make it sing in harmony. That's the goal. Hopefully, it'll come off well.
The song they'll be singing is "Happy Birds Go To Heaven." I hope you enjoy it. Lyrics by yours truly.
I'm also hard at work on The Bull Crime, which is a play about pharmaceuticals, office life, and the desire to do the right thing. It's also about a fish. It's written in a style that's probably closest to The Most Wonderful Love. If that play was my attempt to write You Can't Take It With You, this one is probably more like Glenngarry Glen Ross. Or An Enemy of the People. Something like that.
For those of you in Chicago, I'm in talks with Oracle Productions to bring a shortened version of Bluebeard to your fair city, as a part of an evening of Gran Guignol plays. Bluebeard probably runs an hour and a half right now, but it's oddly structured: it's got a middle section that is full of language, and but the bookends are silent or quiet sections. Finding ways to cut down a play that has a lot of silence is a problem I'm not used to trying to solve.
I popped by the Drama Bookshop last night and found the Samuel French edition of When Is A Clock. Happy to see it there in the new releases. If you haven't picked one up, I'd be much obliged if you do. I'm proud of it and I think it's a very good read. I would, though, wouldn't I?
As of this week, my newest play, Glee Club, has been accepted as a part of the Brick Theater's upcoming summer festival The Antidepressant Festival. This play is far from complete, but what I do have down on paper is promising. I have a few different modes as a playwright, and I tend to sort of shift between them. I don't think I really have a single voice as a writer, just like I don't have a single voice as a person. I write some relatively silly plays, some more serious, and some that sort of hover in the middle.
Glee Club is undoubtedly on the sillier side, and I began to develop it for the purposes of submitting it to the Antidepressant Festival. I couldn't think of anything more expressly free and hopeful than singing in a group. There's something just plain odd and unpretentious about a glee club. Hell, the name itself implies its intentions: be happy, singing to make yourself and others feel good.
But, of course, human beings are flawed and if the group is entirely made up of men, I'd expect a little competitiveness and judgment and bull headedness to arise. Turn natural aggression up to 11 and try to make it sing in harmony. That's the goal. Hopefully, it'll come off well.
The song they'll be singing is "Happy Birds Go To Heaven." I hope you enjoy it. Lyrics by yours truly.
I'm also hard at work on The Bull Crime, which is a play about pharmaceuticals, office life, and the desire to do the right thing. It's also about a fish. It's written in a style that's probably closest to The Most Wonderful Love. If that play was my attempt to write You Can't Take It With You, this one is probably more like Glenngarry Glen Ross. Or An Enemy of the People. Something like that.
For those of you in Chicago, I'm in talks with Oracle Productions to bring a shortened version of Bluebeard to your fair city, as a part of an evening of Gran Guignol plays. Bluebeard probably runs an hour and a half right now, but it's oddly structured: it's got a middle section that is full of language, and but the bookends are silent or quiet sections. Finding ways to cut down a play that has a lot of silence is a problem I'm not used to trying to solve.
I popped by the Drama Bookshop last night and found the Samuel French edition of When Is A Clock. Happy to see it there in the new releases. If you haven't picked one up, I'd be much obliged if you do. I'm proud of it and I think it's a very good read. I would, though, wouldn't I?
Sixth Anniversary of the war in Iraq
Yes, indeed, today is the sixth anniversary of the war in Iraq. Six years that the US has illegally occupied a foreign nation. Six years since our entire country committed itself on false pretenses to a country that did not attack us. Thousands dead, trillions of dollars wasted.
Cheers.
Cheers.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
How to Write a Manifesto about the State of the American Theatre on your own Blog!

I have been, my friends, remiss in my duties. We all know that bloggery is intended for more than links and open ended questions about complicated politics and economics of which I know nothing. Nay! Instead, the blogospace is for the ranting of experts (people with computers) about how to fix the whole shebang. To reinvent the invented in a way that appears freshly fresh.
I know that many of you wonder: "Expert-Freeman...how can I create a lasting testament to the amount of time I have on my hands? What are some ways in which I can structure and sustain not only one Manifesto, but the hundreds of daily, monthly and weekly Manifestos that must be written in order to properly blog about Art?"
For you, my beautiful darlings, I have complied a list of important rules and considerations. Follow these rules, and you, too, can be a Manifestrian blogger.
_____
1. Imagine a dollar bill. Hate that dollar bill. It is a corrupting force, that dollar bill. Use this to inspire you to change the world.2. Theatre is an art, not a product to be sold. This can be said 105 ways. It's up to you to discover them.
3. Write a declarative sentence. For example: "The closing of a theater in Wisconsin is proof that we cannot continue along this terrible path." Now, unpack each word. Closing. Theater. Wisconsin. Path. Terrible. Add a closing paragraph about yourself.
4. Think of something else you'd rather talk about. Like your job. Or that time in the 5th Grade you had to go home and change your clothes because you had pee on them. Write this. Replace your own name with the word "Theatre." ("Theatre is not respected, it deserves to be paid more for working 40 hours a week! And what about theatre's benefits?" or "Theatre should not have to be embarrassed because [some other art or institution] cannot control its bladder! Theatre, instead, should be allowed to walk home without shame.") It's metaphorical.
5. Come up with one idea you like. Stick with it. That's the one.
6. Remember: to err is human. To err without apologizing for 15 paragraphs is a Manifesto.
7. If you have made a point before, you must wait six months before writing exactly the same thing slightly differently.
8. Theatre is dying. It has been since Aristophanes wrote Lysistrata. Keep it up!
9. You have an amazing idea. You get up and write it down in a moleskine notebook, the one you got as a birthday present. Your mind is fevered, tossing about, sure that once you share this with the world, you'll be able to help. You have loved theatre since you first got cast in a community theatre production of Bye Bye Birdie and at last you've gotten the inspired concept you knew would come if you read enough by writers from the 1960s. It's here, at last. The way to make it all work.
Good luck with that.
10. Write this down: "We must diversify, market, reduce our reliance on development, free artists, find new sources of funding, justify our existence, stop writing bad plays, turn off the TV, get to work, go green, organize." Now write it again each month, between links to articles about cats.
You're welcome.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Murakami
Thanks Jennifer Gordon Thomas for linking to this.
"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg."
"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg."
Antidepressant Festival
Should all things go according to plan, I will be presenting a new play at the Antidepressant Festival this summer at the Brick Theater.
The play is called Glee Club. It is about singing.
The play is called Glee Club. It is about singing.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Obama establishes a staff position to oversee arts and culture
Read a bit more about it in the NY Times.
"President Barack Obama has established a staff position in the White House to oversee arts and culture in the Office of Public Liaison and Intergovernmental Affairs under Valerie Jarrett, a senior adviser, a White House official confirmed. Kareem Dale, right, a lawyer who last month was named special assistant to the president for disability policy, will hold the new position. Mr. Dale, who is partly blind, previously served as national disability director for the Obama campaign. He also served on the arts policy committee and the disability policy committee for Mr. Obama when he was a senator from Illinois."
A restful Sunday Afternoon
Huge turnout for Pam's opening last night. The show continues to be open to the public throughout the next several weeks, so you can check out the great work in person.
Me? I am chilling this afternoon after a big night. I found the joyful rest that is Lawrence Welk.
To share in my happiness, please watch the video.
Me? I am chilling this afternoon after a big night. I found the joyful rest that is Lawrence Welk.
To share in my happiness, please watch the video.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Phantasmaphile Group Show Opening Tomorrow!
Once again, details here. With very good directions for those who need them.
$25,000
Last week, there was a linking and commenting jumble about "What ____ would do if they ran the NEA."
Here's something a little more concrete: How would you use a grant for $25,000 that had to be used for your own artistic output or enhancement ( i.e. not rent, food, clothes, etc)?
Happy Friday.
Here's something a little more concrete: How would you use a grant for $25,000 that had to be used for your own artistic output or enhancement ( i.e. not rent, food, clothes, etc)?
- Would you use it for research?
- Postage?
- To self-produce?
- To support a company that produces your work?
- Supplies? (New computer? Ink? Printer?)
- New headshots?
- Classes?
- To go back to school?
- Something more elaborate?
- Hire a press agent?
- For bribes?
- A new website of your own?
Happy Friday.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
People of the United States
Barack Obama has been President for just under two months. I think it's safe to say he is working on it.
I haven't been
...terribly inclined to make declarations or write prescriptions lately. So the blog's been a bit quiet. I'm also just sort of happy to enjoy the new publication, as its easily the largest publisher that's ever distributed my work. Steps towards bigger things, one hopes.
I'm hoping to have a new draft of The Bull Crime completed by the end of March. I've also written a short companion piece to In The Great Expanse of Space... called Broke I Heart Your Own. I've also been shopping Bluebeard around.
The really exciting thing is my lovely girlfriend Pam is curating a group show, Fata Morgana: The New Female Fantasists. The opening night party is on Saturday, March 14th at Dabora Gallery. I'd love to see anyone and everyone there. The art is stunning, the space is moody and cool, and there will be complimentary absinthe.
Are you doing something more fun on Saturday night? That costs less? No, I didn't think so.
I'm hoping to have a new draft of The Bull Crime completed by the end of March. I've also written a short companion piece to In The Great Expanse of Space... called Broke I Heart Your Own. I've also been shopping Bluebeard around.
The really exciting thing is my lovely girlfriend Pam is curating a group show, Fata Morgana: The New Female Fantasists. The opening night party is on Saturday, March 14th at Dabora Gallery. I'd love to see anyone and everyone there. The art is stunning, the space is moody and cool, and there will be complimentary absinthe.
Are you doing something more fun on Saturday night? That costs less? No, I didn't think so.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Dear Internet
Sorry I haven't called you in a while. It's not you, it's me.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Watchmen quick thoughts
Saw a midnight showing of WATCHMEN. A few quick thoughts:
It is long. Therefore, I look forward to seeing it when it does not end at 3 am.
It's strange to watch. If for no other reason than it exists.
There are parts of it that I think are just friggin' awesome.
There are a few moments that are not awesome, but they don't really ruin the movie.
I like ambition and this thing is ambitious, so I'm down with that.
I can't wait to work my way through that inevitable four hour version that'll be out on DVD any time now.
It was great to see an actual, no bullshit, R-rated movie. I mean, seriously. It felt like I was up late watching Showtime in the mid-1980s.
I imagine a meeting with Billy Crudup and the special effects department. He asks "Could you make me look hung?" They assign someone to this job and, for this purpose, he is paid.
I think this movie will inspire a lot of debate among nerds like me.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Lack of posting
Sorry for the lack of posts. Been a bit under the weather lately.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Quote
"Where a man's wound is, that is where his genius will be. Wherever the wound appears in our psyches, whether from an alcoholic father, shaming mother, shaming father, abusing mother, whether it stems from isolation, disability or disease, that is precisely the place for which we will give our major gift to the community."
- Robert Bly
Thanks Pam
- Robert Bly
Thanks Pam
Question for Today
What influences or works or artists do you combine to make up what you do?
Do you combine Dylan Thomas with Woody Guthrie?
Do you combine Beckett with South Park?
Do you combine Joseph Campbell with Quentin Tarantino?
David Mamet, for example, mixed Arthur Miller with Harold Pinter. I'd assume.
I think the answer to this question is fluid. Likely changing considering the play. When I was writing The Most Wonderful Love, I was trying to write Eugene Ionesco's version of You Can't Take It With You.
Things exist, and we combine them, like alchemists, to make new things.
What are your alchemical components? Who, or what, do you use to make what you make?
Do you combine Dylan Thomas with Woody Guthrie?
Do you combine Beckett with South Park?
Do you combine Joseph Campbell with Quentin Tarantino?
David Mamet, for example, mixed Arthur Miller with Harold Pinter. I'd assume.
I think the answer to this question is fluid. Likely changing considering the play. When I was writing The Most Wonderful Love, I was trying to write Eugene Ionesco's version of You Can't Take It With You.
Things exist, and we combine them, like alchemists, to make new things.
What are your alchemical components? Who, or what, do you use to make what you make?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
GO TO THIS!
February 27th and 28th ONLY at the Abrons Art Center - The Grand Street Follies 2009: A Vaudeville for the New Depression. Presented by TWEED TheatreWorks. Directed by Kevin Malony. Plus Tony Conniff & The Grand St. Follies Band. Guest stars The Butoh Rockettes, Wallace Shawn & Deborah Eisenberg, Rufus Wainwright, etc... Abrons Art Center: 466 Grand Street @ Pitt Street on LES. Supporting God's Love We Deliver (www.glwd.org) and TWEED TheatreWorks (www.tweedtheatre.org/folly).
It is Ash Wednesday
What are you giving up for Lent?
Perhaps Isaac Butler should give up Atheism until Easter?
Perhaps you should give up trying?
Or give up hope?
Perhaps Isaac Butler should give up Atheism until Easter?
Perhaps you should give up trying?
Or give up hope?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
In Minnesota
I am in the great state of Minnesota as I write this, spending time with family. My father has just retired after 40 plus years as active clergy. Twas quite a thing. It's cold here, but there are trees, which sort of offsets the chill.
How are you?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Ideas
After the community board meeting, it occurred to me that the theatrical community in NYC has spent a fair amount of time identifying its challenges and debating the ins and outs of them. I think now the next step is ideas and action.
Here are a few ideas I've got personally, some easy, some less so, that I'd love to offer up for some discussion and consideration. Some of these are already happening in some form.
1. Cooperation between companies with complimentary missions.
At the community board meeting last night, the term "co-opetition" was used. Obviously, in a city of hundreds of productions, we compete for tickets and eyeballs. The problem is that we're competing for an increasingly small number of eyeballs and actively interested audience members. By working together, we share our audiences, broaden interest, and pool resources.
That is not to say that all theaters should drop money into a bucket. It is to say that there are many theater companies in this city with complimentary or similar goals, and that by working together, we can serve each other's mission.
A perfect example of this was, coincidentally, on display the very night the idea was brought up. The Ma-Yi Theater Company was the co-producer of the Vampire Cowboys production. Ma-Yi supports Asian-American Artists; Qui Nguyen is a member of that community. Instead of having Qui create one show for Ma-Yi and one for his own company, the companies pooled resources and gave the Vampire Cowboys a broader budget and range of support than they had on their own. It's the perfect complimentary relationship, and it does good things for both organizations.
Think of the countless theater companies in this city dedicated to performing "new works." Or the number of theaters that do Shakespeare outdoors in the summer. Or companies dedicated to ensemble performance. Surely, working together, many of these companies could find complimentary ways in which to serve their own artistic needs and reduce their financial burdens and time constraints.
2. Showcase Code Reform.
I won't really stop harping on this. It still hasn't happened and it needs to happen. Reforming the Code, or creating a new realistic code, is a lot like modernizing the Health Care industry. Make the change and the benefits will be across the board and immediate. More productions will have a better chance of success and therefore more small producers could move towards mid-sized contracts. That means more actors who work for small companies they believe in can see the dream of being paid realized. More success means more work for actors.
I continue to propose that the best compromise here is for small producers to contribute a prorated amount to actor's health insurance in a lump sum for a production that extends beyond 16 performances. Then, Equity actors can recieve a portion of their "weeks" towards health insurance. One week of a Independent Theater show would equal 1/2 or 1/4th weeks towards health insurance coverage from their own union.
3. City-wide premieres.
Early on in the life of this blog, the idea of a national premiere of a new play (a single new play performed by many companies across the country at one time) was thrown around, and it got a lot of us excited. I know there was some movement on that topic, although being the myopic apartment dweller and internet lazybones I am, I was pretty much out of the loop on that before the rubber hit the road.
That doesn't mean it's not a good and exciting idea. What if it was just done within this city? What if, for example, several small theaters with a dedication towards producing new work commissioned something by Ken Urban (for example) and all opened it on the same night at several theaters throughout the city. It would create a big event feel for the premiere of a new play, in a world where a new play seems to appear and drop off the radar every two weeks. It would also celebrate the uniqueness of different designers and directors and celebrate the power of the live event.
4. Answering the important questions.
If you're a theater company with a space...maybe it's time for you to sit down and work out your answers to these questions and questions like them...
a. The local businesses in my area are:
b. The other theaters in my area are:
c. My theater provides my area with this unique service:
d. My theater promotes the following demographic to come into my neighborhood:
e. It costs _____ a year for my space to operate. Our funding is ______. That is a shortfall / surplus of ______.
f. The companies that utilize our space include:
Those are just a few. I'm sure you could come up with 20 questions worth. Maybe something standard like this would help theaters look at themselves economically and look at their community, not only at their artistic mission.
That's a good start. How does this look to you? What else should we be doing or considering?
Here are a few ideas I've got personally, some easy, some less so, that I'd love to offer up for some discussion and consideration. Some of these are already happening in some form.
___
1. Cooperation between companies with complimentary missions.
At the community board meeting last night, the term "co-opetition" was used. Obviously, in a city of hundreds of productions, we compete for tickets and eyeballs. The problem is that we're competing for an increasingly small number of eyeballs and actively interested audience members. By working together, we share our audiences, broaden interest, and pool resources.
That is not to say that all theaters should drop money into a bucket. It is to say that there are many theater companies in this city with complimentary or similar goals, and that by working together, we can serve each other's mission.
A perfect example of this was, coincidentally, on display the very night the idea was brought up. The Ma-Yi Theater Company was the co-producer of the Vampire Cowboys production. Ma-Yi supports Asian-American Artists; Qui Nguyen is a member of that community. Instead of having Qui create one show for Ma-Yi and one for his own company, the companies pooled resources and gave the Vampire Cowboys a broader budget and range of support than they had on their own. It's the perfect complimentary relationship, and it does good things for both organizations.
Think of the countless theater companies in this city dedicated to performing "new works." Or the number of theaters that do Shakespeare outdoors in the summer. Or companies dedicated to ensemble performance. Surely, working together, many of these companies could find complimentary ways in which to serve their own artistic needs and reduce their financial burdens and time constraints.
2. Showcase Code Reform.
I won't really stop harping on this. It still hasn't happened and it needs to happen. Reforming the Code, or creating a new realistic code, is a lot like modernizing the Health Care industry. Make the change and the benefits will be across the board and immediate. More productions will have a better chance of success and therefore more small producers could move towards mid-sized contracts. That means more actors who work for small companies they believe in can see the dream of being paid realized. More success means more work for actors.
I continue to propose that the best compromise here is for small producers to contribute a prorated amount to actor's health insurance in a lump sum for a production that extends beyond 16 performances. Then, Equity actors can recieve a portion of their "weeks" towards health insurance. One week of a Independent Theater show would equal 1/2 or 1/4th weeks towards health insurance coverage from their own union.
3. City-wide premieres.
Early on in the life of this blog, the idea of a national premiere of a new play (a single new play performed by many companies across the country at one time) was thrown around, and it got a lot of us excited. I know there was some movement on that topic, although being the myopic apartment dweller and internet lazybones I am, I was pretty much out of the loop on that before the rubber hit the road.
That doesn't mean it's not a good and exciting idea. What if it was just done within this city? What if, for example, several small theaters with a dedication towards producing new work commissioned something by Ken Urban (for example) and all opened it on the same night at several theaters throughout the city. It would create a big event feel for the premiere of a new play, in a world where a new play seems to appear and drop off the radar every two weeks. It would also celebrate the uniqueness of different designers and directors and celebrate the power of the live event.
4. Answering the important questions.
If you're a theater company with a space...maybe it's time for you to sit down and work out your answers to these questions and questions like them...
a. The local businesses in my area are:
b. The other theaters in my area are:
c. My theater provides my area with this unique service:
d. My theater promotes the following demographic to come into my neighborhood:
e. It costs _____ a year for my space to operate. Our funding is ______. That is a shortfall / surplus of ______.
f. The companies that utilize our space include:
Those are just a few. I'm sure you could come up with 20 questions worth. Maybe something standard like this would help theaters look at themselves economically and look at their community, not only at their artistic mission.
___
That's a good start. How does this look to you? What else should we be doing or considering?
Dear internet
I will not be "twittering." I don't get it and I'm already wasting tremendous amounts of time doing other things. Like this.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Soul Samurai
Stopped by HERE Arts Center last night to see SOUL SAMURAI, the newest creation of The Vampire Cowboys, co-produced by Ma-Yi Theater Company.
If you're at all familiar with Qui Nguyen's work (previously I've seen only one of the larger pieces, MEN OF STEEL and some short pieces) you'll know what to expect. On stage, as always, is a hodgepodge of fandom, inventiveness and pop-genre. Here, we're fully in 'blacksplotiation" territory, replete with Afros, liberal use of the word "muthafucka" and hip-hop.
Of course, this is all through a modern lense, working in lesbians, Asian-American culture and contemporary flavors. The plot plays out exactly as you might expect if you're a fan of this type of genre fiction. Qui also clearly knows his Campbell Hero's Journey stuff: you've got a relatively tame character, forced into action, on a journey of personal growth, with challenges along the way, gatekeepers and mentors and even a loveable clownish sidekick.
What I think is so infectious about the shows that the Vampire Cowboys produce is the palpable sense of joy. Most downtown theater has its sense of self-importance, cruel irony and self-conscious poetry turned up to 11. (I am guilty of this.) You won't get much of that sort of introspection watching SOUL SAMURAI. Instead, the focus is on crowd-pleasing, wit, and splash. It's got more in common with a musical, with set pieces and montages and fights where one might expect to see a stirring dance number.
It's a wild night.
One side note: Both in MEN OF STEEL and in SOUL SAMURAI, I can't overstate just how absolutely fantastic Paco Tolson is. This actor can just do no wrong within this style. Its one of those great instances where the actor and the material just seem to be in love with each other. The cast is unformly excellent, without a doubt, but I wanted to take a second and send him my appreciation. Go see him before tickets to see him get more expensive.
Tickets here!
If you're at all familiar with Qui Nguyen's work (previously I've seen only one of the larger pieces, MEN OF STEEL and some short pieces) you'll know what to expect. On stage, as always, is a hodgepodge of fandom, inventiveness and pop-genre. Here, we're fully in 'blacksplotiation" territory, replete with Afros, liberal use of the word "muthafucka" and hip-hop.
Of course, this is all through a modern lense, working in lesbians, Asian-American culture and contemporary flavors. The plot plays out exactly as you might expect if you're a fan of this type of genre fiction. Qui also clearly knows his Campbell Hero's Journey stuff: you've got a relatively tame character, forced into action, on a journey of personal growth, with challenges along the way, gatekeepers and mentors and even a loveable clownish sidekick.
What I think is so infectious about the shows that the Vampire Cowboys produce is the palpable sense of joy. Most downtown theater has its sense of self-importance, cruel irony and self-conscious poetry turned up to 11. (I am guilty of this.) You won't get much of that sort of introspection watching SOUL SAMURAI. Instead, the focus is on crowd-pleasing, wit, and splash. It's got more in common with a musical, with set pieces and montages and fights where one might expect to see a stirring dance number.
It's a wild night.
One side note: Both in MEN OF STEEL and in SOUL SAMURAI, I can't overstate just how absolutely fantastic Paco Tolson is. This actor can just do no wrong within this style. Its one of those great instances where the actor and the material just seem to be in love with each other. The cast is unformly excellent, without a doubt, but I wanted to take a second and send him my appreciation. Go see him before tickets to see him get more expensive.
Tickets here!
Community Board Meeting for Small to Mid-Sized Theaters
DPDATE: Read John Clancy's view from the panel. Good, honest stuff. I think there is a sobering message here: talk is talk. We need a plan and to take action. John's ideas at the bottom of the post are good ones to start with. So is his evident frustration. To which I say: sober is a good way to view this problem. Sober but undaunted.
Last night, I stopped by the Community Board Meeting for Small to Mid-Sized Theaters, hosted by Community Boards 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 at the Player's Club. I was only able to stick around for the figurative cup of coffee; I left around 7:30pm, just as the actual panel discussion was beginning. I did get a chance to hear the opening speakers, and hear a bit of the tone of what was forthcoming. Take, though, my impressions as they are: there was an hour of panel discussion and then, I'm sure, several hours of conversation afterward that I missed. (Where did I have to run off to last night? To see a small-to-midsized theater in action; the Vampire Cowboys production of Soul Samurai. Awesome. More on that later.)
It was, without a doubt, amazing to sit in the Player's Club and have it packed wall to wall with members of the theatrical community. It was a diverse room, by both age and income, and it was genuinely encouraging to see so much passion and interest for engagement with the political and planning process.
The various speaks who began, including Judith Malina from the Living Theater and the Borough President of Manhattan Scott Stringer, all said everything right. Ben Cameron, from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, spoke passionately about 'arts ecology.' Everyone seemed to be channeling a bit of Barack Obama. You could tell that some of them were positively thrilled to be in a room of artists and talk about the arts; as opposed to, I'm sure, some of less pulse pounding meetings they're obligated to attend. We were spoken to about the urgency of the moment, thinking about our problems in a new way, the shifting culture, the challenges that existed before the economy went into full blown crisis mode, and were encouraged to think in terms of city planning.
All of this is vital. The action that's being taken is exciting, and that sense of excitement is necessary, because the actions to come, the challenges to come, are absolutely daunting. I applaud organizations like ART/NY, The League of Independent Theater, Paul Nagle, 3LD, everyone. I applaud the community boards. We need, without a doubt, to get ourselves into the habit of lobbying on our own behalf.
Just before I left, I did hear a theme that gives me pause. I hope we'll quickly cure ourselves of it, or that it was discussed last night.
The idea presented (and I've heard this) is that smaller theatre companies, those without spaces of their own or large budgets, are in less peril than their larger peers who have troubles with endowments, missing grants, paying rent and keeping the lights on. The logic is flawless of course: if you've always been on a shoestring budget, you're still on a shoestring budget.
The problem I have with this is that it encourages an already bent and bowed band of undernourished artists to think small to avoid the risk of success. We need to think in terms of new strategies for success, as opposed to thinking of being bare-bones as a blessing. The grass is always greener of course: I'm sure a larger company who are battling their landlord imagine going back to the days when they just rented space and rehearsed in the evenings and life was simpler. I'm sure smaller companies want the opposite: a home, a sense of permanence, the idea that they have a future beyond their next Showcase Code (or non-Union) production.
One other very telling distinction heard last night was from Kevin Cunningham, Executive Artistic Director at 3LD. He said that in the last few months, very quickly, companies attitudes have moved from "strategic to tactical." I think that resonated strongly with me.
If anyone reading this was there, I'd love it if you'd share your thoughts in the comments section. I was only there for a short while, so my response is limited. I would say, though, that those who are excited by these types of events and actions should go here and sign up for the mailing list.
One of the questions put to the audience last night was an important one, and I'd love you to consider it yourself. (Or comment on it below.) What is it that a theater company brings to its neighborhood or community that cannot be replicated or done better by another organization?
Last night, I stopped by the Community Board Meeting for Small to Mid-Sized Theaters, hosted by Community Boards 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 at the Player's Club. I was only able to stick around for the figurative cup of coffee; I left around 7:30pm, just as the actual panel discussion was beginning. I did get a chance to hear the opening speakers, and hear a bit of the tone of what was forthcoming. Take, though, my impressions as they are: there was an hour of panel discussion and then, I'm sure, several hours of conversation afterward that I missed. (Where did I have to run off to last night? To see a small-to-midsized theater in action; the Vampire Cowboys production of Soul Samurai. Awesome. More on that later.)
It was, without a doubt, amazing to sit in the Player's Club and have it packed wall to wall with members of the theatrical community. It was a diverse room, by both age and income, and it was genuinely encouraging to see so much passion and interest for engagement with the political and planning process.
The various speaks who began, including Judith Malina from the Living Theater and the Borough President of Manhattan Scott Stringer, all said everything right. Ben Cameron, from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, spoke passionately about 'arts ecology.' Everyone seemed to be channeling a bit of Barack Obama. You could tell that some of them were positively thrilled to be in a room of artists and talk about the arts; as opposed to, I'm sure, some of less pulse pounding meetings they're obligated to attend. We were spoken to about the urgency of the moment, thinking about our problems in a new way, the shifting culture, the challenges that existed before the economy went into full blown crisis mode, and were encouraged to think in terms of city planning.
All of this is vital. The action that's being taken is exciting, and that sense of excitement is necessary, because the actions to come, the challenges to come, are absolutely daunting. I applaud organizations like ART/NY, The League of Independent Theater, Paul Nagle, 3LD, everyone. I applaud the community boards. We need, without a doubt, to get ourselves into the habit of lobbying on our own behalf.
Just before I left, I did hear a theme that gives me pause. I hope we'll quickly cure ourselves of it, or that it was discussed last night.
The idea presented (and I've heard this) is that smaller theatre companies, those without spaces of their own or large budgets, are in less peril than their larger peers who have troubles with endowments, missing grants, paying rent and keeping the lights on. The logic is flawless of course: if you've always been on a shoestring budget, you're still on a shoestring budget.
The problem I have with this is that it encourages an already bent and bowed band of undernourished artists to think small to avoid the risk of success. We need to think in terms of new strategies for success, as opposed to thinking of being bare-bones as a blessing. The grass is always greener of course: I'm sure a larger company who are battling their landlord imagine going back to the days when they just rented space and rehearsed in the evenings and life was simpler. I'm sure smaller companies want the opposite: a home, a sense of permanence, the idea that they have a future beyond their next Showcase Code (or non-Union) production.
One other very telling distinction heard last night was from Kevin Cunningham, Executive Artistic Director at 3LD. He said that in the last few months, very quickly, companies attitudes have moved from "strategic to tactical." I think that resonated strongly with me.
If anyone reading this was there, I'd love it if you'd share your thoughts in the comments section. I was only there for a short while, so my response is limited. I would say, though, that those who are excited by these types of events and actions should go here and sign up for the mailing list.
One of the questions put to the audience last night was an important one, and I'd love you to consider it yourself. (Or comment on it below.) What is it that a theater company brings to its neighborhood or community that cannot be replicated or done better by another organization?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I assume...
...that my readers are smart enough not to be missing Soul Samurai early in its run, before its all sold out 'n 'stuff.
I thought so.
I thought so.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
GOP Loses Election and uses the United States for target practice
...still, CNN asks their opinion.
Breaking News: Republicans think Democratic Superstar President isn't "that great"
Breaking News: Oil Companies question whether Global Warming is man made.
Breaking News: Fundamentalist Christians swear Jesus is their personal Savior
Breaking News: Baseball Star uses Drugs to hit over 600 home runs.
Breaking News: Airplane seats are too small
Breaking News: Chocolate popular; makes you fat
Breaking News: Honesty doesn't make you rich
Breaking News: Television news devoid of context, content
Breaking News: Republicans think Democratic Superstar President isn't "that great"
Breaking News: Oil Companies question whether Global Warming is man made.
Breaking News: Fundamentalist Christians swear Jesus is their personal Savior
Breaking News: Baseball Star uses Drugs to hit over 600 home runs.
Breaking News: Airplane seats are too small
Breaking News: Chocolate popular; makes you fat
Breaking News: Honesty doesn't make you rich
Breaking News: Television news devoid of context, content
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Without critics?
Over at Parabasis, Isaac brings up the "death of criticism" issue that certainly has hounded the Critic-O-Meter project. On a similar point, Rob Weinert-Kendt does a run down of the John Lahr Q&A at the New Yorker, where Lahr paints a stark contrast between critics and reviewers.
Issac asks:
The public discourse plays an essential role in keeping any art form in the center of the public consciousness. A critic may disdain the mere reviewer, but the fact is, they are, when all things are working properly, both a piece of the larger conversation about any given play or painting or poem. In fact, the less talk there is about any given piece of art, the more that work becomes isolated to an individual experience.
Reading a poem can have a simple, profound effect on one person. You don't have to read three reviews of a poem in order to get something out of it. In some ways, reviews, criticism, changes your relationship with anything you experience. That's why a lot of people see things before they read reviews: they their impressions are untainted by outside influence. But if you read a poem, have a strong individual experience with it, and then take that experience out into the world, your thoughts can be enlivened, enriched.
It could obviously be argued that a play is an end unto itself. That the purest way to experience a play is to sit with it, watch it, think about it, and leave it at that.
But that, thankfully, is not the way human beings have constructed their world, and not the way in which most of us process anything. In fact, art is in conversation with the world, and the world should be in conversation with art. When we get together for drinks after seeing a play and talk about its merits, we're all playing roles. Some are reviewers ("I really enjoyed that!") some are critics ("I feel like this really sticks out in this artists body of work because it touches on familiar themes...") some float in-between.
In my mind, the news media captures this spirit and puts it into a larger context. That's why I actually am very happy to see many different responses to a work. Those responses don't have to destroy or create one's own opinion, but they can augment the reason the show exists at all. We're creating work in order to inspire not only gut level responses, but complex ones, and everything in between.
Part of the public discourse is simply about itself. Critics discuss reviewers, reviewers discuss critics, the public has favorite commentors, etc. That's part of the fun of it all. The more of that, the more we all, frankly, care. Not only about the work itself, but the cultural conversation that grows from the work.
Newspapers and magazines do more than provide the public with legal notices and objective reporting. They contribute to the idea of an informed public, to the idea of a thinking people. I say, the less criticism, the less we are encouraged to think, engage and debate. We'd be the poorer for it.
Issac asks:
What if the major newspapers and magazines didn't have critics at all? What if instead they printed excerpts of the art critics used to cover? Instead of reviews of gallery shows, pictures from the show. Instead of reviews of plays, excerpts from the script with a press photo or two. Instead of reviews of books, a chapter from a book. (Obviously with film it'd be hard, although the web would allow you to show like a ten minute excerpt from the movie). And then let's say it was paired with a brief, substantive interview with the creator. And then, just to further the hypothetical, some portion of the money that would've gone to a review goes to the artist instead as a license for the preview of their work.My thoughts:
The public discourse plays an essential role in keeping any art form in the center of the public consciousness. A critic may disdain the mere reviewer, but the fact is, they are, when all things are working properly, both a piece of the larger conversation about any given play or painting or poem. In fact, the less talk there is about any given piece of art, the more that work becomes isolated to an individual experience.
Reading a poem can have a simple, profound effect on one person. You don't have to read three reviews of a poem in order to get something out of it. In some ways, reviews, criticism, changes your relationship with anything you experience. That's why a lot of people see things before they read reviews: they their impressions are untainted by outside influence. But if you read a poem, have a strong individual experience with it, and then take that experience out into the world, your thoughts can be enlivened, enriched.
It could obviously be argued that a play is an end unto itself. That the purest way to experience a play is to sit with it, watch it, think about it, and leave it at that.
But that, thankfully, is not the way human beings have constructed their world, and not the way in which most of us process anything. In fact, art is in conversation with the world, and the world should be in conversation with art. When we get together for drinks after seeing a play and talk about its merits, we're all playing roles. Some are reviewers ("I really enjoyed that!") some are critics ("I feel like this really sticks out in this artists body of work because it touches on familiar themes...") some float in-between.
In my mind, the news media captures this spirit and puts it into a larger context. That's why I actually am very happy to see many different responses to a work. Those responses don't have to destroy or create one's own opinion, but they can augment the reason the show exists at all. We're creating work in order to inspire not only gut level responses, but complex ones, and everything in between.
Part of the public discourse is simply about itself. Critics discuss reviewers, reviewers discuss critics, the public has favorite commentors, etc. That's part of the fun of it all. The more of that, the more we all, frankly, care. Not only about the work itself, but the cultural conversation that grows from the work.
Newspapers and magazines do more than provide the public with legal notices and objective reporting. They contribute to the idea of an informed public, to the idea of a thinking people. I say, the less criticism, the less we are encouraged to think, engage and debate. We'd be the poorer for it.
Save the date - March 14th, 2009
That's the date of the Opening Reception for Fata Morgana: The New Female Fantasists, curated by my amazing significant other.
Details here.
Complimentary absinthe, too!
Details here.
Complimentary absinthe, too!
Back in the day

This is a picture of me when I was young and skinny. Michael Colby Jones is the murderer here.
When we were actually in production doing this scene, in the Scottish Play, we only had two swords. Michael, playing our terrifying lead, would basically kick the crap out of me (Young Siward) in a sword duel, disarming me and killing me with my own weapon. (Thanks Carrie Brewer!) Then, he would throw the sword into the ground in quite the manly fashion. Sean Elias-Reyes, playing MacDuff, would run on, grab the discarded weapon, and finish Michael off.
One might, right at the beginning of the fight, my sword broke into three pieces (the blade, the grip and the guard.) I was standing there with the grip only, as Michael, looking quite in character, approached, looking like he was happy I was unarmed.
I did the worst ad lib in the history of Shakespeare. I put up my hands and, before I thought better of it, said "Can we talk about this?" Audibly. The audience guffawed. I then ran away.
Sean killed Michael holding only the blade.
I still have that green shirt. It's got little holes in it where the makeshift and banged up sword would pull on my torso. Nostalgia.
Fun times. Fun times indeed. I miss acting some days. Like today.
Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts - Cut?
I attended Pennsylvania Governor's School for the Arts in 1992. Over the years, the program has inspired countless artists and educators. Now, the proposed budget from Gov. Ed Rendell in PA does not, currently, include the Governor's School program at all.
This move would be a short-sighted disaster for the arts in Pennsylvania. It's disheartening that a program that costs so little and gives back so much could be viewed as worthy of the chopping block. Once a program like this is de-funded, getting it back is nigh impossible. It's not worth the short-term budget gains to eliminate something so vital.
If you attended, know someone who has, or simply love the arts and sciences, I urge you to sign this petition in protest.
This move would be a short-sighted disaster for the arts in Pennsylvania. It's disheartening that a program that costs so little and gives back so much could be viewed as worthy of the chopping block. Once a program like this is de-funded, getting it back is nigh impossible. It's not worth the short-term budget gains to eliminate something so vital.
If you attended, know someone who has, or simply love the arts and sciences, I urge you to sign this petition in protest.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
New Theater Blog at Time Out NY - Upstaged
And so it begins. Or continues, in a new more visible form. Or remains bloglike and formless.
Conversations on Russian Literature starts tonight!
The first preview performance is tonight for David Johnston's "Conversations on Russian Literature" at the Access Theater, produced by Blue Coyote Theater Group.
There are few people in this production I haven't worked with, and I'm really chomping at the bit to go and see it. (You can get your own tickets right here.) David's one of the funniest, smartest writers out there, and the combination of talented performers and directors really promises an entertaining evening.
Make plans to go and check this out. You'll be very happy you did, I'm sure.
There are few people in this production I haven't worked with, and I'm really chomping at the bit to go and see it. (You can get your own tickets right here.) David's one of the funniest, smartest writers out there, and the combination of talented performers and directors really promises an entertaining evening.
Make plans to go and check this out. You'll be very happy you did, I'm sure.
The Brick is open to co-productions
The Brick is expanding its offerings for producers and renters.
Thanks to nytheatre-i for the heads up.
Thanks to nytheatre-i for the heads up.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Death of a Salesman
...had its Broadway debut 60 years ago today.
Why do I share this with you? Because I'm remarkably generous.
Why do I share this with you? Because I'm remarkably generous.
Someone needs to explain
...the difference between an earmark and spending on infrastructure to Calvin Woodward.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Stormy Daniels for Senate!
Yes she can!
To quote her: "Politics can't be any dirtier of a job than the one I am already in."
Amen.
If she wins, will she be invited to the White House so that Obama can court her vote? Or does that only happen to Republicans?
To quote her: "Politics can't be any dirtier of a job than the one I am already in."
Amen.
If she wins, will she be invited to the White House so that Obama can court her vote? Or does that only happen to Republicans?
For those bothering to follow the continuing saga
I created a new draft of In the Great Expanse of Space that is a mere 18 pages.
I am loathe to admit this...but it's probably the best version of the script.
I am loathe to admit this...but it's probably the best version of the script.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Why I'm glad John McCain isn't president
During the stimulus debate:
“$50 million in funding for the National Endowment for the Arts — all of us are for the arts,” McCain said. “Tell me how that creates any significant number of jobs? After-school snack program is probably a good idea. Do we really want to spend $726 million on it?”
I have answer for you, John McCain. How about $1 billion in Arts Funding. That would create a lot of jobs. And $50 million won't hurt either. Because all the nonprofit organizations that receive these funds generate economic output. Apparently, all of us aren't for the arts. You might like the arts, but you don't seem to know how they show up in galleries. Or how artists, and arts professionals, make a living. Which is to say, in this country, very rarely.
Thank God he's not President.
I will say, though, that I'm a bit disgusted by what I'm hearing is coming out of the Senate. The Republicans (a minority party that was shamed in the election and hurt the American public for the last eight years) asked for less spending, more tax cuts. They got: less spending, more tax cuts.
Why? Because they threatened filibuster or something? It's almost comforting to know that even if this time of great hope, the Congress can give us a sense of despair.
I want watch Boehner and McConnell actually filibuster. Someone explain the logic of avoiding the threat of filibuster by negotiation. Make them do it. It's like someone saying "I'll hit you" and you give them all your money so they don't. Even though they've never, ever actually hit you.
“$50 million in funding for the National Endowment for the Arts — all of us are for the arts,” McCain said. “Tell me how that creates any significant number of jobs? After-school snack program is probably a good idea. Do we really want to spend $726 million on it?”
I have answer for you, John McCain. How about $1 billion in Arts Funding. That would create a lot of jobs. And $50 million won't hurt either. Because all the nonprofit organizations that receive these funds generate economic output. Apparently, all of us aren't for the arts. You might like the arts, but you don't seem to know how they show up in galleries. Or how artists, and arts professionals, make a living. Which is to say, in this country, very rarely.
Thank God he's not President.
I will say, though, that I'm a bit disgusted by what I'm hearing is coming out of the Senate. The Republicans (a minority party that was shamed in the election and hurt the American public for the last eight years) asked for less spending, more tax cuts. They got: less spending, more tax cuts.
Why? Because they threatened filibuster or something? It's almost comforting to know that even if this time of great hope, the Congress can give us a sense of despair.
I want watch Boehner and McConnell actually filibuster. Someone explain the logic of avoiding the threat of filibuster by negotiation. Make them do it. It's like someone saying "I'll hit you" and you give them all your money so they don't. Even though they've never, ever actually hit you.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Regarding Christian Bale
I'm not one for Entertainment Gossip, but I have to say, as someone who has been in a fair number of rehearsal rooms, and someone who has, in his life, blown up at people in ways I'm glad were never recorded...I have to say...
C'mon people. Give the man a break.
The internet is a bizarre way for, by shaming and recording. the human race to self-govern. One wonders if it will lead us to deeper sympathy, or an increasing number of public stonings.
C'mon people. Give the man a break.
The internet is a bizarre way for, by shaming and recording. the human race to self-govern. One wonders if it will lead us to deeper sympathy, or an increasing number of public stonings.
At Politico - a partisan "love fest'
Obama speaks to his own party with strong language, inspiring language and humor about the stimulus, after Republicans dominate the airwaves with remedial politics and long dismissed ideas... and it's written about like Obama is somehow off-message or hyper-partisan.
The most partisan thing that I'm seeing is how the media is covering the stimulus package.
The most partisan thing that I'm seeing is how the media is covering the stimulus package.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Vote NO on the Coburn "Limitation on Funds Amendment No. 175"
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Obama proposes cap of $500,000 on executive pay...
...for those companies that receive TARP funds.
The Times quotes this winner:
“That is pretty draconian — $500,000 is not a lot of money, particularly if there is no bonus,” said James F. Reda, founder and managing director of James F. Reda & Associates, a compensation consulting firm. “And you know these companies that are in trouble are not going to pay much of an annual dividend.”
It's a select few that would view a salary of half a million dollars a year as draconian. In the US, and in the world. It's also an insult to the vast majority of the human beings on earth who work for pennies a day.
Learn to live with a half a million dollars a year. Or don't take public funds. Sounds fair to me.
The Times quotes this winner:
“That is pretty draconian — $500,000 is not a lot of money, particularly if there is no bonus,” said James F. Reda, founder and managing director of James F. Reda & Associates, a compensation consulting firm. “And you know these companies that are in trouble are not going to pay much of an annual dividend.”
It's a select few that would view a salary of half a million dollars a year as draconian. In the US, and in the world. It's also an insult to the vast majority of the human beings on earth who work for pennies a day.
Learn to live with a half a million dollars a year. Or don't take public funds. Sounds fair to me.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
8 percent tax on Broadway Tickets?
Simple logic.
The theater is a luxury. Those who enjoy it must pay taxes for that luxury.
(Above and beyond the already astronomical and restrictive price.)
The only people who bother to go to the theater are rich anyway, its a sort of backdoor towards raising taxes on the rich. Right? Those people who aren't rich can always go to the movies to avoid these taxes. We won't tax movie tickets.
Embarrassing proposal. I love these cosmetic cost cutting measures that nail things like arts spending; parts of the budget that account for almost nothing. Politicians "make the hard choices" by cutting tiny, struggling programs that have shitty lobbyists.
Because, it's clear to me, that the Arts-as-a-Whole has the shittiest lobbyists in the universe. The fucking Peanut Industry has better lobbyists. The guys who make toys that could choke kids spend more money on lobbyists than the entire arts community, I'd bet. I'd be slapping my dead grandma if I found out that Broadway producers spend a tenth of what is spent by the Wire Coat Hangers industry to protect its funding and political interests.
Serious question, though. If this idiotic waste of a tax did pass, would this tax apply to non-profit productions? Or just commercial productions? Is that distinction proposed or even considered?
The theater is a luxury. Those who enjoy it must pay taxes for that luxury.
(Above and beyond the already astronomical and restrictive price.)
The only people who bother to go to the theater are rich anyway, its a sort of backdoor towards raising taxes on the rich. Right? Those people who aren't rich can always go to the movies to avoid these taxes. We won't tax movie tickets.
Embarrassing proposal. I love these cosmetic cost cutting measures that nail things like arts spending; parts of the budget that account for almost nothing. Politicians "make the hard choices" by cutting tiny, struggling programs that have shitty lobbyists.
Because, it's clear to me, that the Arts-as-a-Whole has the shittiest lobbyists in the universe. The fucking Peanut Industry has better lobbyists. The guys who make toys that could choke kids spend more money on lobbyists than the entire arts community, I'd bet. I'd be slapping my dead grandma if I found out that Broadway producers spend a tenth of what is spent by the Wire Coat Hangers industry to protect its funding and political interests.
Serious question, though. If this idiotic waste of a tax did pass, would this tax apply to non-profit productions? Or just commercial productions? Is that distinction proposed or even considered?
Monday, February 02, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
John Updike
John Updike passed away this week. I met him once when I was in high school, at an event in Collegeville, Pennsylvania, when he was reading short stories by his mother. He was incredibly gracious.
I think I'm going to re-read Rabbit, Run. I was too young the first time.
Anyone out there an Updike fan? Any particular favorites? Any thoughts on the passing?
I think I'm going to re-read Rabbit, Run. I was too young the first time.
Anyone out there an Updike fan? Any particular favorites? Any thoughts on the passing?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)






