My music teacher, Lloyd Thayer, will be playing this Sunday at Sally O'Brien's this Sunday. Lloyd is a teacher I've had for music theory and now for harmonica. (He didn't tell me the harmonica was like a crack pipe; it just calls to you and you can't put it down.)
Check out the YouTube vid at the end of this post, to meet Lloyd. He's a great guy, great teacher, and a wonderful musician.
Anyway, here's the scoop on Lloyd playing this Sunday:
I will be appearing at Sally O'Brien's in Somerville this Sunday from 8-11pm. I"ll be playing "in the round" with Bill McQuaid and Thea Hopkins, which means I'll be learning songs on the fly and trying to stay out of the way, much like we did in class on Tuesday. Anything could happen, and more than likely I will play no guitar, and I should do at least one solo harmonica piece, ie nothing but harmonica...........
Best of all, admission is FREE, and there are no tab sheet handouts.
Hope to see you there
lloyd
SUNDAY JAN. 17th
SALLY OBRIEN'S 8-11pm
lloyd Thayer
in the round with Bill McQuaid and Thea Hopkins
335 Somerville Ave., Union Sq. Somerville 02145
617 666 3589
http://www.theahopkins.com/
http://www.billmcquaid.net/
http://www.sallyobriensbar.com/
Friday, January 15, 2010
Check out Audrey Ryan this Sunday at Club Passim (1.17)
It's the long weekend so you probably have Monday off for MLK Day, so get your heinie over to Club Passim and check out Audrey Ryan if you haven't seen this eclectic, alt/indie performer.
I saw her a few months back for the first time and was thoroughly impressed and entertained (that's the important word; who the heck wants to sit there like a stiff neck and be bored to tears by some high-brow malarkey, even if it is Cambridge??) And I was delighted. That's a good thang.
Here's what she has to say about the gig:
Club Passim this Sunday with my friend Richard Julian from NYC. It's an early show and should run from about 8 to 11pm. I'll be playing first. Because I only get to experience a true listening room like Passim a few times a year, I'm going to take advantage and play a few tunes on ukulele, banjo, and of course accordion in addition to the usual guitar/loop/percussion.
Hopefully many of you have Monday MLK day off, so this a long weekend. Hope to see you there, buy tickets in advance if you can (www.clubpassim.org) as they're a bit cheaper than at the door.
Sunday, January 17th @8pm sharp
Club Passim
47 Palmer St., Havard Square
Cambridge
*I play 8-9:15pm
**Richard will play 9:30-10:30pm
www.richardjulian.com
Thanks,
Audrey
www.audreyryan.com
www.myspace.com/audreyryan
Cape Cod & Islands Refelctions by Christopher Seufert
Cape Cod is a state of mind. You cross the bridges and you're not only in a different place geographically, you're also someplace inside your head. I don't have a single bad memory from Cape Cod. Isn't that extraordinary?
From Joel Meyerowitz to the weekend snapshooter, I don't think it would possible to take a bad photograph there.
Publisher: Schiffer Publishing, Ltd.
Author: Christopher Seufert
Format: Hardcover, 128pp
ISBN-13: 9780764334054
ISBN: 0764334050
Synopsis: Over 200 color photos provide a unique perspective on life in and around Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Enjoy colorful tours of Provincetown, Nantucket, Orleans, Martha's Vineyard, Brewster, Eastham, Chatham, Harwich, Falmouth, Sandwich, Dennis, and Barnstable; beaches of Cape Cod National Seashore, Dionis, Nauset, Red River, Lighthouse, and Outer Beach; wildlife refuges, regional wildlife, harbors, lighthouses, lobster shacks, architectural gems, and much more.
Biography: Christopher Seufert is a photographer based in Cape Cod. This is his fifth book.
Get it here.
From Joel Meyerowitz to the weekend snapshooter, I don't think it would possible to take a bad photograph there.
Publisher: Schiffer Publishing, Ltd.
Author: Christopher Seufert
Format: Hardcover, 128pp
ISBN-13: 9780764334054
ISBN: 0764334050
Synopsis: Over 200 color photos provide a unique perspective on life in and around Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Enjoy colorful tours of Provincetown, Nantucket, Orleans, Martha's Vineyard, Brewster, Eastham, Chatham, Harwich, Falmouth, Sandwich, Dennis, and Barnstable; beaches of Cape Cod National Seashore, Dionis, Nauset, Red River, Lighthouse, and Outer Beach; wildlife refuges, regional wildlife, harbors, lighthouses, lobster shacks, architectural gems, and much more.
Biography: Christopher Seufert is a photographer based in Cape Cod. This is his fifth book.
Get it here.
Thunder Road: The Cowboy Junkies
I'm not a big Springsteen fan, but I do love this song. And I love the way Bruce lays down a power grind of this song, but there's nothing like a new take, a new perspective, the kind the Junkies put on the song. Margot's mournful voice makes you realize it ain't all Jersey and cars. And I and see Michael sitting next to her, head down, concentrating the way does, feeling every nuance...
Monday, January 11, 2010
Of being an individual and self-censorship
There’s a new workout class at the Quincy Athletic Club. It’s called BodyPump. It’s all the buzz. It was introduced this past weekend, and suddenly there were all of these buff, good-looking people strutting around in black Lycra. Before there was a weight class taught by a woman named Carolyn. She was a South Shore Girl complete with accent, thin and taunt and a scrawny little butt, a bit rough and she drove an SUV with a Harley sticker on it. I liked Carolyn and I liked Carolyn’s class. Sometimes I might have been the only guy in the class, or maybe one of maybe three. But she’d kick my ass. I learned a long time ago from road running that the sex of an athlete doesn’t mean a thing. The road or the court or the mountain doesn’t care what you carry between your legs. And Carolyn’s class was a good workout, and it got me on the road to slowly getting back in shape.
But as of last week, Carolyn is gone and a multi-million dollar corporate extravaganza has moved in. There’s a stage and on the stage is a buff blonde with one of those little mikes that all the pop stars use, and the music—if you want to call it that—is throbbing and loud. She exhorts the class of (mostly) out of shape endomorphs who less fashionably dressed than she, even the ones who think they’re fashionably dressed for the gym with “Come on, squeeze it” and “Whoo!” Thank God for iPods that I can drown it all out with John Fogerty and the Chili Peppers. And people are standing outside the class, curious, to see what it’s all about. You see, everyone is curious because, it’s all the buzz.
And I’ll probably start going to the class, eventually. After all the buzz has died and the early adopters have moved on to something new. Something else to sate their thirst for the buzz. For the scene. I’ll go because I’m sure it’s a great class and I do believe that Eric, one of the guys who runs the place, is dedicated and passionate about health and fitness. And Sue tried it and it kicked her ass, and she’s in pretty fair shape. She was working out and Eric came over to her and told her there was an extra spot she could have in the class if she wanted it. Sure Eric has to eat and run a business so it behooves him to make BodyPump successful, but he’s also thinking of his clients. You get that kind of personal service there.
It’s the buzz I can’t stand, and every time I hear it I start looking for the money and the big corporate juggernaut behind it because that buzz is the noise it makes as it comes crashing in. Like the noise I’ve heard missiles make when they come out of the sky; they make the sound of a piece of paper tearing.
And that’s exactly the sound I heard last week on Facebook when women were writing down the color of their bras. I heard that buzz. But I didn’t say anything because it was about breast cancer—a very liberal cause—and I knew if I said anything like I’m doing now I would be branded a jerk and a chauvinist or worse. I would be shown for what I really am, and what I’m not. I’m not a liberal. I have learned that in this country you have to watch the left as much as you watch the right. And truth be told I thought I’d be branded by a lot of people who I not only like, but want to like me to. So I censored myself, a horrible thing to do.
I heard that buzz last week because breast cancer is right up there with saving the whales and the children in the liberal world, just like saving the flag is to the conservatives. And just to try to stem the hue and cry, I think breast cancer is a horrible disease, and I really like whales and children. I was once a child myself and I actually raised two of my own. And I wish breast cancer could be cured and I wish whales wouldn’t be going extinct and I wish every child a great future. I just don’t like it rammed down my throat in the same way I don’t like Christianity rammed down my throat.
I don’t like breast cancer rammed down my throat because, frankly more women die of heart disease which takes more women (and men) than breast cancer. (It killed my father.) Cervical cancer kills more women. Lung cancer does, which killed my mother. Breast cancer is in the forefront of our consciousness I’m willing to bet because of some really good PR work. It ranks seventh in terms of mortality in women. Breast cancer also kills men, too, a fact that reminds me of 9-11. People died in the Pentagon and in that field in Pennsylvania, but the World Trade Towers get all the attention. While breast cancer does kill more women than men, by giving all the attention to women are we saying the men just don’t count?
I just have a real aversion to really good PR work, along with lobbyists, even when the buzz is for a really good cause, like breast cancer. And that feeling comes from my very soul. Who I am. I hate to be manipulated, which is exactly what viral marketing like the breast cancer/Facebook campaign tried to do, but in a “cool, fun, hip way.” (The campaign wasn’t even that successful, if you look at the numbers presented in a Washington Post article. This blog on certain days posts better numbers than that.) I hate it when anyone even tries to manipulate me. I’ve never been a joiner, never wanted to be a part of the crowd. The crowd frankly, gives me, in the words of Mark Twain, the fantods.
And you know, I think society needs more people like me. Someone a bit cynical. A bit distrustful. The devil’s advocate. A contrarian. Someone who, when everyone is zigging, instead zags.
But as of last week, Carolyn is gone and a multi-million dollar corporate extravaganza has moved in. There’s a stage and on the stage is a buff blonde with one of those little mikes that all the pop stars use, and the music—if you want to call it that—is throbbing and loud. She exhorts the class of (mostly) out of shape endomorphs who less fashionably dressed than she, even the ones who think they’re fashionably dressed for the gym with “Come on, squeeze it” and “Whoo!” Thank God for iPods that I can drown it all out with John Fogerty and the Chili Peppers. And people are standing outside the class, curious, to see what it’s all about. You see, everyone is curious because, it’s all the buzz.
And I’ll probably start going to the class, eventually. After all the buzz has died and the early adopters have moved on to something new. Something else to sate their thirst for the buzz. For the scene. I’ll go because I’m sure it’s a great class and I do believe that Eric, one of the guys who runs the place, is dedicated and passionate about health and fitness. And Sue tried it and it kicked her ass, and she’s in pretty fair shape. She was working out and Eric came over to her and told her there was an extra spot she could have in the class if she wanted it. Sure Eric has to eat and run a business so it behooves him to make BodyPump successful, but he’s also thinking of his clients. You get that kind of personal service there.
It’s the buzz I can’t stand, and every time I hear it I start looking for the money and the big corporate juggernaut behind it because that buzz is the noise it makes as it comes crashing in. Like the noise I’ve heard missiles make when they come out of the sky; they make the sound of a piece of paper tearing.
And that’s exactly the sound I heard last week on Facebook when women were writing down the color of their bras. I heard that buzz. But I didn’t say anything because it was about breast cancer—a very liberal cause—and I knew if I said anything like I’m doing now I would be branded a jerk and a chauvinist or worse. I would be shown for what I really am, and what I’m not. I’m not a liberal. I have learned that in this country you have to watch the left as much as you watch the right. And truth be told I thought I’d be branded by a lot of people who I not only like, but want to like me to. So I censored myself, a horrible thing to do.
I heard that buzz last week because breast cancer is right up there with saving the whales and the children in the liberal world, just like saving the flag is to the conservatives. And just to try to stem the hue and cry, I think breast cancer is a horrible disease, and I really like whales and children. I was once a child myself and I actually raised two of my own. And I wish breast cancer could be cured and I wish whales wouldn’t be going extinct and I wish every child a great future. I just don’t like it rammed down my throat in the same way I don’t like Christianity rammed down my throat.
I don’t like breast cancer rammed down my throat because, frankly more women die of heart disease which takes more women (and men) than breast cancer. (It killed my father.) Cervical cancer kills more women. Lung cancer does, which killed my mother. Breast cancer is in the forefront of our consciousness I’m willing to bet because of some really good PR work. It ranks seventh in terms of mortality in women. Breast cancer also kills men, too, a fact that reminds me of 9-11. People died in the Pentagon and in that field in Pennsylvania, but the World Trade Towers get all the attention. While breast cancer does kill more women than men, by giving all the attention to women are we saying the men just don’t count?
I just have a real aversion to really good PR work, along with lobbyists, even when the buzz is for a really good cause, like breast cancer. And that feeling comes from my very soul. Who I am. I hate to be manipulated, which is exactly what viral marketing like the breast cancer/Facebook campaign tried to do, but in a “cool, fun, hip way.” (The campaign wasn’t even that successful, if you look at the numbers presented in a Washington Post article. This blog on certain days posts better numbers than that.) I hate it when anyone even tries to manipulate me. I’ve never been a joiner, never wanted to be a part of the crowd. The crowd frankly, gives me, in the words of Mark Twain, the fantods.
And you know, I think society needs more people like me. Someone a bit cynical. A bit distrustful. The devil’s advocate. A contrarian. Someone who, when everyone is zigging, instead zags.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Girls Guns and Glory: 667
You can catch them tomorrow night at The Pressman in Portsmouth, NH and on the 23rd at the Paradise.
Cool stuff to do this weekend
I don't follow the Patriots, Bruins, Celtics, or Red Sox, don't own a TV, and I have an extremely short attention span. Here are a couple of things that caught my eye that I might be checking out this weekend.
First, buddy Jason will be playing in the Boston Celtic Music Festival. After living in Boston for 29 years, I think I've heard enough Celtic music to last for the rest of my life. Like when I was living in Athens, Ohio, enough of the bluegrass. But something like the BCM
will attract the best of the best, there's nothing like watching people at the top of the game who are really passionate about what they're doing. I'll try to hook up with Jason on Saturday. He's backing Kyte MacKillop and Friends.
A. Nora Long, a co-founder of the New Exhibition Room, via Facebook did a shoutout on Bent Wit Cabaret this Sunday at the Oberon Theater in Cambridge. From their site: Every Second Sunday of the month from January through May 2010, Axe To Ice Productions brings you the cabaret to end all cabarets! Find a funny arrangement of ever-changing multimedia artists trying to work out some kind of theme for you... Bawdy, beautiful, delicious, and disastrous- always come expecting the unexpected! Hosted by Mary Dolan and and UnAmeriKa's Sweetheart Karin Webb!
Axe To Ice was created by the two cabaret-producing, gender-bending, clown-like character actors Karin Webb and Jill Gibson. The company seeks to create, support, and produce art that causes an audience to question and to think, to be struck in the moment, and to bring their experiences into action in their own communities.
A bit more: From the team that brought the smashing successes “Mary Dolan Presents…Vaudeville!” and “Boiling Point Burlesque” comes a series so warped and smart it could only be dubbed “Bent Wit”! January 10th marks the premiere of this monthly engagement of variety shows at Club Oberon, each in turn bringing a new theme for our artists to dismantle and put back together, and led by the live House Band, Elephant Tango Ensemble.
And speaking of New Exhibition Room, they'll be presenting another Stone Soup: A Hearty Theatrical on Tuesday, January 26 at Oberon. Get ur tix here.
First, buddy Jason will be playing in the Boston Celtic Music Festival. After living in Boston for 29 years, I think I've heard enough Celtic music to last for the rest of my life. Like when I was living in Athens, Ohio, enough of the bluegrass. But something like the BCM
will attract the best of the best, there's nothing like watching people at the top of the game who are really passionate about what they're doing. I'll try to hook up with Jason on Saturday. He's backing Kyte MacKillop and Friends.
A. Nora Long, a co-founder of the New Exhibition Room, via Facebook did a shoutout on Bent Wit Cabaret this Sunday at the Oberon Theater in Cambridge. From their site: Every Second Sunday of the month from January through May 2010, Axe To Ice Productions brings you the cabaret to end all cabarets! Find a funny arrangement of ever-changing multimedia artists trying to work out some kind of theme for you... Bawdy, beautiful, delicious, and disastrous- always come expecting the unexpected! Hosted by Mary Dolan and and UnAmeriKa's Sweetheart Karin Webb!Axe To Ice was created by the two cabaret-producing, gender-bending, clown-like character actors Karin Webb and Jill Gibson. The company seeks to create, support, and produce art that causes an audience to question and to think, to be struck in the moment, and to bring their experiences into action in their own communities.
A bit more: From the team that brought the smashing successes “Mary Dolan Presents…Vaudeville!” and “Boiling Point Burlesque” comes a series so warped and smart it could only be dubbed “Bent Wit”! January 10th marks the premiere of this monthly engagement of variety shows at Club Oberon, each in turn bringing a new theme for our artists to dismantle and put back together, and led by the live House Band, Elephant Tango Ensemble.
And speaking of New Exhibition Room, they'll be presenting another Stone Soup: A Hearty Theatrical on Tuesday, January 26 at Oberon. Get ur tix here.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Paul Kahn, playwright
I heard the other day that Paul Kahn passed on on New Year's of respiratory failure. Paul was a Boston-area playwright, plus I'm sure other things--he was quite the remarkable human being. But he came into my life as a playwright, and that's the only way I knew him.
I met him when I was asked to perform in a play he wrote. I'm embarrassed to say that I can't remember the name of it, or the name of the character I played--a Holocaust survivor who won an award for a book the character wrote. John Tierney, another fine community theater actor played my agent/publisher, and Kate Blair played my wife. Michelle Aguillon, who was the one who asked me to take the role and president of The Hovey Players, a community theater in Waltham, Mass., directed, and we performed the piece at the Acme Theater in Maynard at a festival of ten-minute plays David Sheppard was putting on. David still runs that theater today.
Enough of circling around the details.
It was a sweet piece, with a lot of emotion and a nice story line that carried the characters up to the climax and set us back down hard on the other side. We all loved the play, and we were rehearsing the hell out of it one night in the upstairs room at the Abbott Theater where the Hovey Players live when Paul stopped by to see the rehearsal. At that point not even Michelle had met him.
It was a shock to meet him. Not that Paul noticed or probably could have cared less. Paul rode in a wheelchair that was like a Sherman tank. It had to be big, not that Paul was that big, but because I guess it had to carry all his shit. Batteries to drive the thing, and his oxygen and all that. And the thing was, that night it was pouring buckets, so Paul and the whole apparatus was covered in this big poncho or tarp or something with just Paul's head sticking out of this hole in the center of the tarp. I mean, it was just kind of like this head floating around. It appeared to be a struggle for Paul to talk. The words came out slow and his head jerked around when he talked, and his eyes bugged out of his head when he formed words. But with all that coming into the room, also came his personality, his wit, his intelligence, his charm, his insight, his energy, his peace, his passion, and his determination.
We worked that freakin' play that night, with Paul's help, and when he was leaving he told us a true story, that he had recently been to a Halloween party where he went as--are you ready for this?--the head of St. John the Baptist. God, that man could make me laugh.
I worked with Paul one time after that, when I did a staged reading of a poem he wrote. I'd go over to his house, where I met Ruth, his wife. We'd chat a bit, then Paul and I would go off and rehearse. There was a gentle calmness that pervaded their home. I'll always remember that.
He was such a talent, but I think what struck me most about him was his inspirational quality, which I suspect he might take as an insult. But, you see, about the time I met him, I was going through some pretty dark times emotionally, and suddenly it seemed to me I was working with Paul and another beautiful artist who, coincidentally was a quadruple amputee. I'm not the kind of person who believes people "are put into your life for a reason." I don't believe in some grand puppetmaster. But I remember observing these two as they worked, and thinking to myself, they had to overcome some immense physical obstacles. The way they look on the outside is the way I look on the inside. I have to do emotionally what they did physically.
That's what Paul did for me and he never knew it.
He'll be missed by a lot of people. I wish I could have worked with him more. Because, man that guy could make me laugh.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
A site about angry people in local newspapers
“I feel sorry for local news photographers. They are hugely skilled and poorly paid, and sent out to photograph miserable people pointing at dog turds. Here, we celebrate their work.”
I wouldn't go so far as to say there is any great work here, it's just funny to look at some the images and know what the photographer was going through.
Many years back I freelanced as a Question of the Week photographer/writer for the MetroWest Daily News. With reporter's notebook and camera in hand, usually wearing fingerless gloves because I was out there in all kinds of weather, I'd stand outside a local grocery store or mall or public place, stop people and ask them a question relating to current events. Something like, "Has the current economic climate affected the way you're going to spend for Christmas?" then dutifully write down their answers and take their picture, with a notation in my notebook next to their quote to be able to match their photo with their quote. Something like, middle-aged man with big honking nose, or woman with really ugly hat.
I think I needed to get about eight quotes, which meant you usually had to stop about four times that many people because first, if you could get someone to actually talk to you they might not have anything interesting to say, or they'd say something that five other people had already said. Then there were the people who would yammer on and on and I'd be scribbling like mad then take their picture and then ask for their name and hometown to put with the quote, and they'd look horrified and say, "You're not going to put that in the paper, are you?" You'd want to say, "No, I'm standing out here in this shitty weather simply because I really want to know what YOU think." People are amazing, they truly are.
So, when I saw this site I just got reminded of all those days, working in all kinds of weather for peanuts simply because I loved to write.
Here's the site. Enjoy.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Web 2.0 Suicide Machine: When you want to kill your online persona
This machine lets you delete all your energy sucking social-networking profiles, kill your fake virtual friends, and completely do away with your Web2.0 alterego.
Facebook. Linkedin. Twitter. Even freakin' cell phones. When I travel now, I leave them all at home. And it's a bit weird at first, but in only a day or two I really relish the feeling of just being the "old me" in the "old world." Not constantly reaching for the laptop to check my email or my blog analytics to see who's been reading my blog, and yes, especially Facebook, that voyeuristic time suck where I, as of this writing, currently have 401 "friends".
It's social networking, but the thing is, I've never really been that social. Ever. I've always been kind of a loner, with only one or two really good friends. I like the fringe. Even at my old full- time job at Digitas, I kid you not: I received low marks on my review because I didn't socialize, i.e. go out drinking after hours. (The place was actually one huge frat house.) I am who I am, and I got nailed for it.
I joined Facebook while at Digitas because I wanted to learn more about social networking and the digital space. (Gee, I was actually very interested in the job and the work, see.) Anyway, it took me only about a week to figure the whole thing out. Sue used to train dogs. When she was a teen she was a champion sheltie trainer. And she told me this little secret: That the way to get a dog to do a trick is simply to get it to do what come naturally.
And that's exactly what Facebook does.
Humans are natural voyeurs. We're very interested in the other person. So Facebook sets up an online environment where we can all mill around and look at each other lives through posts and pictures and videos, and it's very alluring. And while we spend all that time there we're sitting ducks for advertisers and online media companies and anybody else who wants to sell us something, or worse, sell us (our info and our content) to someone else. Facebook actually is more insidious than that old technology, television, which was a very simple advertising medium. People still think the programs are entertainment, but as soon as you realize and fully understand that televison (network and cable) is an advertising medium first, not an entertainment vehicle, and that the programming is simply to attract you for the advertisers, you have it all figured out.
But I hang on to Facebook because right now because it is the way to stay in touch in the early 21st century. I'm not some survivalist who wants to completely drop off the map, though I must say I have those tendencies and maybe someday may act on them. And when I do, I can commit digital suicide. And I wonder if it won't be the freeing experience of my life.
Facebook. Linkedin. Twitter. Even freakin' cell phones. When I travel now, I leave them all at home. And it's a bit weird at first, but in only a day or two I really relish the feeling of just being the "old me" in the "old world." Not constantly reaching for the laptop to check my email or my blog analytics to see who's been reading my blog, and yes, especially Facebook, that voyeuristic time suck where I, as of this writing, currently have 401 "friends".
It's social networking, but the thing is, I've never really been that social. Ever. I've always been kind of a loner, with only one or two really good friends. I like the fringe. Even at my old full- time job at Digitas, I kid you not: I received low marks on my review because I didn't socialize, i.e. go out drinking after hours. (The place was actually one huge frat house.) I am who I am, and I got nailed for it.
I joined Facebook while at Digitas because I wanted to learn more about social networking and the digital space. (Gee, I was actually very interested in the job and the work, see.) Anyway, it took me only about a week to figure the whole thing out. Sue used to train dogs. When she was a teen she was a champion sheltie trainer. And she told me this little secret: That the way to get a dog to do a trick is simply to get it to do what come naturally.
And that's exactly what Facebook does.
Humans are natural voyeurs. We're very interested in the other person. So Facebook sets up an online environment where we can all mill around and look at each other lives through posts and pictures and videos, and it's very alluring. And while we spend all that time there we're sitting ducks for advertisers and online media companies and anybody else who wants to sell us something, or worse, sell us (our info and our content) to someone else. Facebook actually is more insidious than that old technology, television, which was a very simple advertising medium. People still think the programs are entertainment, but as soon as you realize and fully understand that televison (network and cable) is an advertising medium first, not an entertainment vehicle, and that the programming is simply to attract you for the advertisers, you have it all figured out.
But I hang on to Facebook because right now because it is the way to stay in touch in the early 21st century. I'm not some survivalist who wants to completely drop off the map, though I must say I have those tendencies and maybe someday may act on them. And when I do, I can commit digital suicide. And I wonder if it won't be the freeing experience of my life.
web 2.0 suicide machine promotion from moddr_ on Vimeo.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
The New Year: Plans or Just Dreaming
The New Year. The beginning of a new decade.
Winter in New England, on a cold, snowy day. Not much to do. While the snow we just got was predicted to keep falling until midnight tonight, by 2:00 this afternoon we were looking at clear blue skies. I've never understood how the weather forecasters can be so consistently wrong. It's the reason I just stopped planning around them.
But still, on a day like today, there isn't a lot to do. I hate snow, and the cold and the wet. I’m solar powered. I like the sun and the hot. So we do what so many people do in New England in the winter and stay indoors and read and play music or surf the net. Just chill. Winter in New England, some say, is for recharging. For making plans.
And well, planning has been a problem of late. Plans are something you can make when you have resources. Otherwise, it's just dreaming.
Work this past year has been a struggle as it's been for so many around the world. The Europeans refer to this economy as, The Crisis. It was a year ago December 11th that I got laid off. And I thought I'd be able to find work and make some sort of living freelancing. I really didn't want to go back to an office. And I did cobble some work together freelancing--all small jobs or part-time contacts--supplemented by unemployment insurance. But the work simply isn't there, full-time, part-time, contract. Despite what the government is saying, this depression is still here. Companies are still laying off--Digitas, where I got laid off, has already scheduled more layoffs for March. People have been notified.
Then last week when my unemployment ran out and I filed for an extension, I learned that my unemployment, because I actually worked, was cut by more than 50%. If I hadn't worked, making the small bit of money that I made, roughly 50% of what I was making at the agency, I would have continued receiving the benefits I received in the past year for another 21 weeks. In other words, if I had just sat on this couch and written plays like I really wanted to, I would have still made a fair living, at least for another 21 weeks. The system really is set up to reward people for not working.
So, how are you supposed to make plans, when you're scrapping from week to week, sometimes day to day?
The economy causes me to wake me up in the middle of the night with worry about what happens if I get sick, or what's going to happen to me in ten years when I'm ready to retire with no savings. I can barely meet my expenses as it is, and I still have two college-age kids who look at me and, while they probably don't mean to, make me feel absolutely helpless for not being to pay for even part of the colelge. The economy can frustrate me because, when I finally found someone who shares the same hopes and dreams that I've had for so long, that we may not be able to see our dreams to fruition.
The economy also forces me to think differently about what I can and can't do. I'm seriously questioning my ability to make a (real) living as a corporate writer as I have for the last 29 years. Despite all of those years of experience, I don't have a masters in communications that hiring managers seem to be looking for at the get-go. And, while you can't prove age discrimination, when you interview with someone over half your age, you can see it in their eyes. It's not always about the diploma.
The new decade may give some people hope. Some are so glad to kiss the first decade of the 21st century good bye with its 9-11 and recession. But a new swing around the sun isn't going to change what's going on in this country. And a new swing around the sun is not going to mean anything to me. The only differences I can make are in the changes inside me. How I approach this new world that so many people seem blind to. I've never been a quitter. I'm not quitting. But I do get awfully dejected at times.
Winter in New England, on a cold, snowy day. Not much to do. While the snow we just got was predicted to keep falling until midnight tonight, by 2:00 this afternoon we were looking at clear blue skies. I've never understood how the weather forecasters can be so consistently wrong. It's the reason I just stopped planning around them.
But still, on a day like today, there isn't a lot to do. I hate snow, and the cold and the wet. I’m solar powered. I like the sun and the hot. So we do what so many people do in New England in the winter and stay indoors and read and play music or surf the net. Just chill. Winter in New England, some say, is for recharging. For making plans.
And well, planning has been a problem of late. Plans are something you can make when you have resources. Otherwise, it's just dreaming.
Work this past year has been a struggle as it's been for so many around the world. The Europeans refer to this economy as, The Crisis. It was a year ago December 11th that I got laid off. And I thought I'd be able to find work and make some sort of living freelancing. I really didn't want to go back to an office. And I did cobble some work together freelancing--all small jobs or part-time contacts--supplemented by unemployment insurance. But the work simply isn't there, full-time, part-time, contract. Despite what the government is saying, this depression is still here. Companies are still laying off--Digitas, where I got laid off, has already scheduled more layoffs for March. People have been notified.
Then last week when my unemployment ran out and I filed for an extension, I learned that my unemployment, because I actually worked, was cut by more than 50%. If I hadn't worked, making the small bit of money that I made, roughly 50% of what I was making at the agency, I would have continued receiving the benefits I received in the past year for another 21 weeks. In other words, if I had just sat on this couch and written plays like I really wanted to, I would have still made a fair living, at least for another 21 weeks. The system really is set up to reward people for not working.
So, how are you supposed to make plans, when you're scrapping from week to week, sometimes day to day?
The economy causes me to wake me up in the middle of the night with worry about what happens if I get sick, or what's going to happen to me in ten years when I'm ready to retire with no savings. I can barely meet my expenses as it is, and I still have two college-age kids who look at me and, while they probably don't mean to, make me feel absolutely helpless for not being to pay for even part of the colelge. The economy can frustrate me because, when I finally found someone who shares the same hopes and dreams that I've had for so long, that we may not be able to see our dreams to fruition.
The economy also forces me to think differently about what I can and can't do. I'm seriously questioning my ability to make a (real) living as a corporate writer as I have for the last 29 years. Despite all of those years of experience, I don't have a masters in communications that hiring managers seem to be looking for at the get-go. And, while you can't prove age discrimination, when you interview with someone over half your age, you can see it in their eyes. It's not always about the diploma.
The new decade may give some people hope. Some are so glad to kiss the first decade of the 21st century good bye with its 9-11 and recession. But a new swing around the sun isn't going to change what's going on in this country. And a new swing around the sun is not going to mean anything to me. The only differences I can make are in the changes inside me. How I approach this new world that so many people seem blind to. I've never been a quitter. I'm not quitting. But I do get awfully dejected at times.
Blame Sally: Pajaros Sin Alas
I've been a big fan of Blame Sally since we saw them a few months back at Club Passim.
Here's a video of a live performance in Colorado - this song will be on Blame Sally's next album. It's called "Pajaros Sin Alas", which means "bird without wings".
Here's a video of a live performance in Colorado - this song will be on Blame Sally's next album. It's called "Pajaros Sin Alas", which means "bird without wings".
Friday, January 1, 2010
January 1, twenty-ten
January 1st. Twenty-ten. A new year. A new decade. A time for reflection over the past decade. (Ten freakin' years go by--just like that
I haven't blogged for a while, for a reason. It was getting too personal, too close to the bone, and frankly, I was afraid of hurting people. When things aren't going right in your life there's no reason to air your dirty laundry in a blog. There's shared experience, yes. But there is also a time and place for everything. And frankly, I'm as much to blame as the other person.
Pretty cryptic, huh? But the fact of the matter, I'll tell you this right now, is this: If you're reading this and you think it's you, it isn't. Because everyone in my life who is close to me and who I talk to and hang out with and party with and act with and play music with and share ideas with: You know who you are. Compared to ten years ago, I'm a pretty lucky individual just to be alive, and I make no bones about it. I didn't hit bottom, but I did see the bottom racing up to meet me right before the bungee cord snapped me back up.
The last decade contained for me some of the worst times of my life and the some of the best (howdy-do, Sue.) And frankly, I'm glad to kiss the first decade of the 21st century adios. But I'm a bit apprehensive about the coming decade. I keep wondering if 100 years ago, in 1910, when the Industrial Revolution was kicking in and our country's rural/agrarian life was fading as people moved to the cities and the god-like automobile was making our lives more mobile and interesting and life was changing dramatically (like it is today) if the everyday Joe knew in a scant four years there'd be the first world war? Then the Twenties (which were a bust; thank you Calvin Coolidge, the Twentieth Century's first George Bush), then the Great Depression (like Michelle Shock asks, What was so great about it?), then WWII. In other words, 100 years ago we were on the precipice of about forty years of suck. It was only after WWII that the prosperity that spawned America's arrogance kicked in, which led to the greed of biblical proporations that we're reeling from.
Nice happy thoughts on New Year's, huh?
Ah, for chrissakes, John, give it up for a day, won't you?
You're right. Give it a rest for a day. I'm long enough in the tooth to know that I'll have plenty of reasons to gripe and complain and predict gloom and doom because I know my fellow human beings will be a constant source of...of...inspiration. LOL.
Anyway, it's January 1 of a new decade. I am, as I like to say, a hopeful cynic. I hope that things turn out all right, while every bone in my body tells me otherwise. That's pretty much how I face life everyday. That's why I have that little crooked smile on my face so often.
I haven't blogged for a while, for a reason. It was getting too personal, too close to the bone, and frankly, I was afraid of hurting people. When things aren't going right in your life there's no reason to air your dirty laundry in a blog. There's shared experience, yes. But there is also a time and place for everything. And frankly, I'm as much to blame as the other person.
Pretty cryptic, huh? But the fact of the matter, I'll tell you this right now, is this: If you're reading this and you think it's you, it isn't. Because everyone in my life who is close to me and who I talk to and hang out with and party with and act with and play music with and share ideas with: You know who you are. Compared to ten years ago, I'm a pretty lucky individual just to be alive, and I make no bones about it. I didn't hit bottom, but I did see the bottom racing up to meet me right before the bungee cord snapped me back up.
The last decade contained for me some of the worst times of my life and the some of the best (howdy-do, Sue.) And frankly, I'm glad to kiss the first decade of the 21st century adios. But I'm a bit apprehensive about the coming decade. I keep wondering if 100 years ago, in 1910, when the Industrial Revolution was kicking in and our country's rural/agrarian life was fading as people moved to the cities and the god-like automobile was making our lives more mobile and interesting and life was changing dramatically (like it is today) if the everyday Joe knew in a scant four years there'd be the first world war? Then the Twenties (which were a bust; thank you Calvin Coolidge, the Twentieth Century's first George Bush), then the Great Depression (like Michelle Shock asks, What was so great about it?), then WWII. In other words, 100 years ago we were on the precipice of about forty years of suck. It was only after WWII that the prosperity that spawned America's arrogance kicked in, which led to the greed of biblical proporations that we're reeling from.
Nice happy thoughts on New Year's, huh?
Ah, for chrissakes, John, give it up for a day, won't you?
You're right. Give it a rest for a day. I'm long enough in the tooth to know that I'll have plenty of reasons to gripe and complain and predict gloom and doom because I know my fellow human beings will be a constant source of...of...inspiration. LOL.
Anyway, it's January 1 of a new decade. I am, as I like to say, a hopeful cynic. I hope that things turn out all right, while every bone in my body tells me otherwise. That's pretty much how I face life everyday. That's why I have that little crooked smile on my face so often.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A reading of St. John the Divine of Iowa from Another Country Productions
Saint John the Divine in Iowa
A reading of the screenplay by Lyralen Kaye
Directed by Lucas Lloyd
November 30, 8-9:30pm
Open to the public
Donation only
A reading of the screenplay by Lyralen Kaye
Directed by Lucas Lloyd
November 30, 8-9:30pm
Open to the public
Donation only
Presented by Another Country Productions
At the Factory Theatre at 791 Tremont St, Boston, MA
www.thefactorytheatre.org for directions
At the Factory Theatre at 791 Tremont St, Boston, MA
www.thefactorytheatre.org for directions
When Reverend Alexandra McCartney, a progressive Episcopal priest who has fought for social justice through most of her career, begins working for gay marriage in Iowa, she doesn’t know she’s fighting for her own daughter. But when Sarah comes home and asks her mother to marry she and her partner, Reverend Alexandra finds it’s easier to live up to your values when they’re not tested at home or in your own conservative congregation.
Featuring Melissa Blasek, Emily Culver, John Greiner-Ferris, Ashley James, Lyralen Kaye, Karin Trachtenberg and Cindy Wegel
Friday, November 6, 2009
Image Theater hosts The 5th annual Keep Your Kids at Home Naughty Readings
C'mon people: support your local playwrights. See some new, interesting, and according to Image Theater's press release, naughty works.
Here's the scoop from Image Theater in Lowell, Massachusetts:
As you know, Image Theater is in the midst of its 5th year in this incredibly vibrant city of Lowell, and we are proud that, in that short time, we have produced the new works of over 60 local playwrights. We NEVER could have done this without your support and belief in the power and excitement of new plays by emerging playwrights and composers.
We are very happy to announce that this year, we purchased a brand new sound system to go along with our state of the art lighting system, giving us the ability to perform at venues all over Lowell.
As you know, we don't do anything predictable at Image. Instead of the usual auctions, etc... our fundraisers are always FUNdraisers... and this year is no exception...brand new sexy, silly, short plays by local writers and twisted, dirty ditties by area composers, all performed for you by some of the area's top talent in the wonderful atmosphere of Jerry and Finbarr's Old Court Tavern at 29 Central Street, Lowell We could all use some laughs these days... and we guarantee to deliver them!
Saturday, Nov 14th at 8PM.
Featured local playwrights are Meron Langsner, Steven O'Connor, David Schrag, Kelly DuMar, Jack F. Dacey, Karla Sorenson, Patrick Brennan, Michael Kimball, and songs by Steven Gilbane, Rene Pfister and Matthew Hanf
We are so appreciative of their writing talents and the time and hard work donated to us by our talented actors to give you an evening of fun, food and song...and some VERY crazy moments!
Admission is $25 and can be had by e-mailing Diarydoor@aol.com under the heading "Tickets", or by calling 978-441-0102.
As all of you know, seating is limited, and the "Naughties" do sell quickly. Tickets at the door are $28, so save that extra money for a Guinness!
That's it... the "ever long winded" Jerry Bisantz is now done. We really hope that you can come, laugh with us and support Image Theater... "the new theater for new plays".
Jerry Bisantz, Ann Garvin, and Alex Savitzky
Image Theater
Made In Lowell
Here's the scoop from Image Theater in Lowell, Massachusetts:
As you know, Image Theater is in the midst of its 5th year in this incredibly vibrant city of Lowell, and we are proud that, in that short time, we have produced the new works of over 60 local playwrights. We NEVER could have done this without your support and belief in the power and excitement of new plays by emerging playwrights and composers.We are very happy to announce that this year, we purchased a brand new sound system to go along with our state of the art lighting system, giving us the ability to perform at venues all over Lowell.
As you know, we don't do anything predictable at Image. Instead of the usual auctions, etc... our fundraisers are always FUNdraisers... and this year is no exception...brand new sexy, silly, short plays by local writers and twisted, dirty ditties by area composers, all performed for you by some of the area's top talent in the wonderful atmosphere of Jerry and Finbarr's Old Court Tavern at 29 Central Street, Lowell We could all use some laughs these days... and we guarantee to deliver them!
Saturday, Nov 14th at 8PM.
Featured local playwrights are Meron Langsner, Steven O'Connor, David Schrag, Kelly DuMar, Jack F. Dacey, Karla Sorenson, Patrick Brennan, Michael Kimball, and songs by Steven Gilbane, Rene Pfister and Matthew Hanf
We are so appreciative of their writing talents and the time and hard work donated to us by our talented actors to give you an evening of fun, food and song...and some VERY crazy moments!
Admission is $25 and can be had by e-mailing Diarydoor@aol.com under the heading "Tickets", or by calling 978-441-0102.
As all of you know, seating is limited, and the "Naughties" do sell quickly. Tickets at the door are $28, so save that extra money for a Guinness!
That's it... the "ever long winded" Jerry Bisantz is now done. We really hope that you can come, laugh with us and support Image Theater... "the new theater for new plays".
Jerry Bisantz, Ann Garvin, and Alex Savitzky
Image Theater
Made In Lowell
Why I Act
I'd like to share part of an email I received from someone I know from a past life. He and I worked at a software company together. He lives in England and he's talking about his feelings about a community theater production he's helping with:
Though I have been chaperoning my little 9 year old boy whilst he and my daughter (17) perform in a musical "Blitz".
My God! Attending the relentless rehearsals, and then running around backstage supporting the costume changes and ensuring they are ready for their cue is harder than I thought. But that is nothing compared to the conceptualising, project management, coordination, team work and sheer bloody-mindedness needed to actually produce, direct, and give the performance. This is just amateur, and its 'Total-War' the way the WWII countries fought. What you go through must be crazy, and yet...
The excitement, even in the wings before the curtain rises, and the camaraderie is tremendous. That plus the mental, physical, and social development for the kids has made it more than worth it. Though I have little idea whether they will do sign-up when they are next asked.
It's all that, and more. People who aren't in the theater (though this particular man has performed) find it all so exciting and stimulating.
The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props
The audience that lifts you when you're down
Yes, it's all there, and it will continue entice and thrill and delight. But I've found that if the theater is going to mean anything at all to you, eventually all the glamor (ha!) and excitement and camaraderie gives way to other things. Because guess what? It's not always thrilling and exciting. Some day you find yourself working with a director with whom you simply can't connect, for whom anything you do is wrong, no matter how hard you try. You'll work with people who don't share your creative vision--or have no vision at all. You'll work with actors who are self-centered and egotistical (the theater seems draw this particular personality) who, in character, you have to show love and concern for on the stage but in the dressing room you want to hit between the eyes with a 2x4.
But strangely, masochistically, you continue to work in the theater. For through it all, hopefully, you're growing as a person and an artist.
But there is something you can do to increase your chances of doing good work and having an enjoyable experience, and that's simply find the people who bring out the best in you and work with them as much as you can. I know for me, that means working with actors who are open, and if you don't know what that means, it's a level of intimacy that only certain people are capable of reaching. I'm not interested in actors who prescribe to the "remember your lines and don't bump into the furniture" method of acting. Who reduce acting to "just telling a story." Actors who are afraid to risk showing who they are on the stage, who hide behind the character, instead of actively living inside the character and within the character's world.
I first got an inkling of this way back when a director by the name of Jim Barton cast me as Freddy in a production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile at The Vokes Theatre in Wayland. He told the night of the read through that we all have been cast because of who we were. Interesting, no? Subsequent rehearsals left me floundering until one night I mentioned to Jim that I was struggling with character. What does he sound like? I anguished. How does he walk? Jim just smiled and said he talks like me. Walks like me. Me. I was Freddy. And I'm the Reverend Muncie in Looking for Normal and tonight I'm Victor in The Wonderful World of Dissocia. Acting is being. Acting is living truthfully in an imaginary world.
In a director I need one who has a strong vision for the script and the production, but also is a collaborator, one who looks to the actors for their contribution in terms of developing the characters and understanding the script. The word that best fits this kind of director--and the actors, too--is organic. Not wedded to their own specific preconceived ideas, open to exploration and discovery in the rehearsal process, more interested in internal motivations than outside gestures, inflections, or line readings.
As for the environment, I need one that actors call "safe." One where you feel free to explore and take risks. To put it in simpler words, an environment where you won't feel you're making a fool out of yourself if you try something. A place where the creative process is understood to mean that every idea is valid, every participant is respected for their talent, and together they have the power and potential to break new ground.
The excitement of an opening night, the allure of the makeup and costumes, will continue to attract people to acting. But it is the process and the promise for creative growth that keeps me.
Though I have been chaperoning my little 9 year old boy whilst he and my daughter (17) perform in a musical "Blitz".
My God! Attending the relentless rehearsals, and then running around backstage supporting the costume changes and ensuring they are ready for their cue is harder than I thought. But that is nothing compared to the conceptualising, project management, coordination, team work and sheer bloody-mindedness needed to actually produce, direct, and give the performance. This is just amateur, and its 'Total-War' the way the WWII countries fought. What you go through must be crazy, and yet...
The excitement, even in the wings before the curtain rises, and the camaraderie is tremendous. That plus the mental, physical, and social development for the kids has made it more than worth it. Though I have little idea whether they will do sign-up when they are next asked.
It's all that, and more. People who aren't in the theater (though this particular man has performed) find it all so exciting and stimulating.
The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props
The audience that lifts you when you're down
Yes, it's all there, and it will continue entice and thrill and delight. But I've found that if the theater is going to mean anything at all to you, eventually all the glamor (ha!) and excitement and camaraderie gives way to other things. Because guess what? It's not always thrilling and exciting. Some day you find yourself working with a director with whom you simply can't connect, for whom anything you do is wrong, no matter how hard you try. You'll work with people who don't share your creative vision--or have no vision at all. You'll work with actors who are self-centered and egotistical (the theater seems draw this particular personality) who, in character, you have to show love and concern for on the stage but in the dressing room you want to hit between the eyes with a 2x4.
But strangely, masochistically, you continue to work in the theater. For through it all, hopefully, you're growing as a person and an artist.
But there is something you can do to increase your chances of doing good work and having an enjoyable experience, and that's simply find the people who bring out the best in you and work with them as much as you can. I know for me, that means working with actors who are open, and if you don't know what that means, it's a level of intimacy that only certain people are capable of reaching. I'm not interested in actors who prescribe to the "remember your lines and don't bump into the furniture" method of acting. Who reduce acting to "just telling a story." Actors who are afraid to risk showing who they are on the stage, who hide behind the character, instead of actively living inside the character and within the character's world.
I first got an inkling of this way back when a director by the name of Jim Barton cast me as Freddy in a production of Picasso at the Lapin Agile at The Vokes Theatre in Wayland. He told the night of the read through that we all have been cast because of who we were. Interesting, no? Subsequent rehearsals left me floundering until one night I mentioned to Jim that I was struggling with character. What does he sound like? I anguished. How does he walk? Jim just smiled and said he talks like me. Walks like me. Me. I was Freddy. And I'm the Reverend Muncie in Looking for Normal and tonight I'm Victor in The Wonderful World of Dissocia. Acting is being. Acting is living truthfully in an imaginary world.
In a director I need one who has a strong vision for the script and the production, but also is a collaborator, one who looks to the actors for their contribution in terms of developing the characters and understanding the script. The word that best fits this kind of director--and the actors, too--is organic. Not wedded to their own specific preconceived ideas, open to exploration and discovery in the rehearsal process, more interested in internal motivations than outside gestures, inflections, or line readings.
As for the environment, I need one that actors call "safe." One where you feel free to explore and take risks. To put it in simpler words, an environment where you won't feel you're making a fool out of yourself if you try something. A place where the creative process is understood to mean that every idea is valid, every participant is respected for their talent, and together they have the power and potential to break new ground.
The excitement of an opening night, the allure of the makeup and costumes, will continue to attract people to acting. But it is the process and the promise for creative growth that keeps me.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Two weekends left for Kid Simple: A Radio Show in the Flesh
Kid Simple: A Radio Show in the Flesh
by, Jordan Harrison
directed by, Krista D'Agostino
Oct. 30th - Nov. 14th
Co-Produced by Holland Productions and The Factory Theatre
$15 Adult & $12 Student/Senior
www.theatermania.com
www.hollandproductions.org
www.thefactorytheatre.org
In this quirky fable of innocence and experience, Moll, a girl who invents things, wins the science fair with a machine for hearing sounds that can't be heard. But when a shape-shifting Mercenary steals the invention (and her heart), she must embark on a quest to save noise as we know it. Accompanied by the last boy-virgin in the eleventh grade, Moll crosses chasms and rafts rivers into a world where sound is always more than what meets the ear.
Holland Productions and The Factory Theatre team up to produce Jordan Harrison’s KID SIMPLE: A Radio Play in The Flesh. KID SIMPLE transports us from the days of fireside radio dramas to a world of exhilarating science fiction and fantasy. The play premiered at the Humana Festival in 2004 where it was reviewed as, “The most inventive and satisfying piece…a thrilling abandonment of old school literalism.” – John Moore, The Denver Post. Krista D’Agostino, Producing Artistic Director of Holland Productions directs and Greg Jutkiewicz of The Factory Theatre designs lights and set.
The play features live sound effects by Foley Artist/Actress Joye Thaller, of The Post Meridian Radio Players and the acting talents of Joey Pelletier (Where Moments Hung Before, Boston Actors Theater; Blowing Whistles, Zeitgeist Stage), Mikey DiLoreto (Where Moments Hung Before, Boston Actors Theater; Aloha, Say The Pretty Girls, Holland Productions) Nicholas Chris (Emerson College) Brittany Halls (Emerson College), Crystal Lisbon (The Gingerbread Lady, Happy Medium), Cassandra Meyer (The House of Yes, Apollinaire Theatre Company), Kiki Samko (Dream of Life, Imaginary Beasts), Mac Young (Bad Jazz, Zeitgeist Stage; Aloha Say, The Pretty Girls, Holland Productions) and Matthew Zahnzinger (Blood Relations, Flat Earth Theatre).
HOLLAND PRODUCTIONS:
In 2006, D’Agostino, along with two other Boston College graduates, founded Holland Productions with the goal of promoting the female voice on Boston’s stage. The company opened with co-founding member Emily Dendinger’s original work, Swimming After Dark. Holland Productions launched its first full-length season at The Factory Theatre in October of 2008 with Paula Vogel’s The Baltimore Waltz, praised by reviewers as “smart, sensitive and stimulating theatre.” Since then, Holland Productions has produced several full-length plays at The Factory Theatre directed by D’Agostino, including; local actress/playwright Philana Gnawtowski’s, The Halfway House Club (2008) and most recently Naomi Iizuka’s, Aloha, Say the Pretty Girls (2009) which received critical acclaim: "Under Krista D'Agostino's direction, this group of strangers...gels into one of the best ensembles to hit the stage this season." -- Kilian Melloy, EDGE
THE FACTORY THEATRE:
The Factory Theatre leapt onto the Boston theatre scene in 2007, reviving one of the city’s most unique theatre venues. Founded and managed by Greg Jutkiewicz, The Factory Theatre is proud to continue the tradition of providing a home for Boston’s best, and most intimate, fringe theatre. Their mission is to provide an environment to nurture and support local theatre talent and a space for those theatre artists that wish to create more courageous works. In 2008, their inaugural production of Mud by Maria Irene Fornes opened to critical acclaim: “Mud, unlike much summer fare, is blissfully unsafe and remarkably riveting. As for the company’s own mission, Mud brilliantly sloshes its way to pay dirt.” The Factory Theatre is pleased to host dozens of guest companies every year, including Holland Productions, Whistler in the Dark, Counter-Productions Theatre Company, 11:11 Theatre, Mill 6 Collaborative, Happy Medium Theatre, Independent Drama Society, among others.
Holland Productions is proudly sponsored by DMZCreations.
Highland Center, Indiana
The setting for Highland Center, Indiana, the new play I'm working on. The little house on the right, with the blue-green roof, is the "new" house, the fancy new house my grandfather built when he, Grandma, and Aunt Marcella (Babe) moved out of the two-story log house where my mother and her 10 brothers and sisters were born and raised. The "old house" isn't there, having been dismantled, numbered, and reassembled somewhere by some Yuppies who came through and bought it up. My relatives thought that was the silliest thing they ever heard. To the right, across the driveway you can see remnants of Grandma's garden. Her garden stretched from the road to the end of that "scar" you can see next to that light colored field, where corn and hay was alternatively grown. (That "scar" is actually Concord grapes.) At the far end of her garden is where the old house stood.
The barnyard is overgrown with trees, but interspersed you can see the out buildings: the woodshed, chicken coops, storehouses, the smokehouse. I spent a couple of hot, searing summers on top of those buildings either painting them or tarring them. Right in front of the barn is a shiny circle: a corn crib.
You can see the locust patch that Hank and Billy cut through, and at the top of the image the creek that winds through the locust patch and behind the barn that they wade through.
To the left of my Grandfather's farm is Joe Diehl's farm. When my mother was a child, there was also a store and a post office at Joe Diehl's farm. On the other side of the intersection is Ronnie Hoog's place. (Hoog is pronounced with a long "o").
Anyway, cue the dead rabbit.
Friday, October 30, 2009
October 30 theater openings: some good stuff going on
Tonight there are a few good shows opening in and around the Boston area.
Company One's The Overwhelming is opening at the BCA.
Company One presents the Boston premiere of THE OVERWHELMING, an exotic thriller from award-winning playwright J.T. Rogers (Madagascar, White People). Seizing the opportunity to do research for his new book, Jack Exley uproots his family and moves to Rwanda in early 1994. As Jack, his wife and his teenage son encounter foreign culture and eye opening politics, they each find their own brand of trouble. Realizing that in this place no one is exactly what they seem, his family begins to unearth unexpected truths about this tiny, troubled nation... and about themselves.
October 30 – November 21, 2009
Boston Center for the Arts Plaza Theatre
Wednesdays + Thursdays @ 7:30 pm
Fridays + Saturdays @ 8:00 pm
Sundays @ 2:00 pm
Holland Productions'Kid Simple: A Radio Play in the Flesh opens for a three-week run at The Factory Theater.
Moll, a girl who invents things, wins the science fair with a machine for hearing sounds that can't be heard. But when a shape-shifting Mercenary steals the invention (and her heart), she must embark on a quest to save noise as we know it. In a quirky fable of innocence and experience Moll crosses chasms and rafts rivers into a world where sound is always more than what meets the ear. Get tix here.
Apollinaire Theatre's The Wonderful World of Dissocia opens tonight in Chelsea (c'mon, drive over the bridge; it's not that big of a deal) for five weeks.
Lisa Jones is on a quest. She must retrieve one lost hour that has tipped the balance of her life. Her hour has been traced to the State of Dissocia, a wonderland ruled by its own eccentric logic, delirious delights and darkest danger. Will the curious inhabitants of Dissocia help her retrieve the lost hour, or are there reasons more complex for them to lead her astray?
This is a hugely original play, both magical and moving, that confirmed Anthony Neilson as one of the major voices in British theatre. Produced originally for the 2004 Edinburgh International Festival, The Wonderful World of Dissocia wowed critics and audiences alike, cleaning up at the Critics’ Awards for Theatre in Scotland.
And don't forget SlamBoston this Monday and Tuesday at the Factory Theatre.
Also, The Sparrow continues at The Stoneham Theatre until November 8.
After garnering critical and popular acclaim with The Sparrow's debut in Chicago, writer and original director Nathan Allen will direct the East Coast Premiere of this riveting fable.
Orphaned teenager Emily Book returns to the town she once called home to finish her final year of high school--but this time, she's carrying a secret. An ordinary teenager with extraordinary abilities, Emily must embrace her supernatural powers and confront the truth about her past. An exciting tale of teens and telekinesis.
And finally, if you've never checked out The Gold Dust Orphans, you don't know what you're missing. During the non-summer months they perform over The Machine in the Fenway. They just opened The Valet of the Dolls. I'll fit it in somehow.
Company One's The Overwhelming is opening at the BCA. Company One presents the Boston premiere of THE OVERWHELMING, an exotic thriller from award-winning playwright J.T. Rogers (Madagascar, White People). Seizing the opportunity to do research for his new book, Jack Exley uproots his family and moves to Rwanda in early 1994. As Jack, his wife and his teenage son encounter foreign culture and eye opening politics, they each find their own brand of trouble. Realizing that in this place no one is exactly what they seem, his family begins to unearth unexpected truths about this tiny, troubled nation... and about themselves.
October 30 – November 21, 2009
Boston Center for the Arts Plaza Theatre
Wednesdays + Thursdays @ 7:30 pm
Fridays + Saturdays @ 8:00 pm
Sundays @ 2:00 pm
Holland Productions'Kid Simple: A Radio Play in the Flesh opens for a three-week run at The Factory Theater.Moll, a girl who invents things, wins the science fair with a machine for hearing sounds that can't be heard. But when a shape-shifting Mercenary steals the invention (and her heart), she must embark on a quest to save noise as we know it. In a quirky fable of innocence and experience Moll crosses chasms and rafts rivers into a world where sound is always more than what meets the ear. Get tix here.
Apollinaire Theatre's The Wonderful World of Dissocia opens tonight in Chelsea (c'mon, drive over the bridge; it's not that big of a deal) for five weeks. Lisa Jones is on a quest. She must retrieve one lost hour that has tipped the balance of her life. Her hour has been traced to the State of Dissocia, a wonderland ruled by its own eccentric logic, delirious delights and darkest danger. Will the curious inhabitants of Dissocia help her retrieve the lost hour, or are there reasons more complex for them to lead her astray?
This is a hugely original play, both magical and moving, that confirmed Anthony Neilson as one of the major voices in British theatre. Produced originally for the 2004 Edinburgh International Festival, The Wonderful World of Dissocia wowed critics and audiences alike, cleaning up at the Critics’ Awards for Theatre in Scotland.
And don't forget SlamBoston this Monday and Tuesday at the Factory Theatre.
Also, The Sparrow continues at The Stoneham Theatre until November 8. After garnering critical and popular acclaim with The Sparrow's debut in Chicago, writer and original director Nathan Allen will direct the East Coast Premiere of this riveting fable.
Orphaned teenager Emily Book returns to the town she once called home to finish her final year of high school--but this time, she's carrying a secret. An ordinary teenager with extraordinary abilities, Emily must embrace her supernatural powers and confront the truth about her past. An exciting tale of teens and telekinesis.
And finally, if you've never checked out The Gold Dust Orphans, you don't know what you're missing. During the non-summer months they perform over The Machine in the Fenway. They just opened The Valet of the Dolls. I'll fit it in somehow.
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