On my way to grab a bite to eat, I ran into Cindy Meier coming out of Kinko's copy shop. She was there picking up season fliers for Rogue Theatre. It is always a pleasure and joy to see and speak to Cindy - I always feel great afterward. Anyway, I took one of her fliers and on my walk back to my office I was marveling at the shows they have chosen for this season. And I have come to a decision. For theatres like The Rogue and other producing organizations who work on a "Seasonal" basis (not all do btw), I am declaring this season of shows by Rogue to be the greatest ever chosen in the history of Tucson!
Here is the line-up.
Animal Farm by Andrew Periale, based on George Orwell's novella.
A Delicate Balance by Edward Albee.
Our Town by Thorton Wilder.
Krapp's Last Tape, Not I and Rockaby, by Samuel Beckett
Othello by William Shakespeare.
That's not playing around.
For second place I am choosing Arizona Theatre Company's 1979-80 season
A Flea in Her Ear
Twelfth Night
The Glass Menagerie
Father's Day
The Seagull
The Three Penny Opera
How close it that?
Invisible Theatre, Borderlands, and even Live Theatre Workshop have some impressively chosen past seasons on their resumes. Some of them you can check out on their websites. Other theatres such as aka theatre and ghosts past I am working from memory. aka often had so many shows its impossible to know when one "season" ended and another begin.
Despite all the good ones, I am declaring The Rogue Theatre 2009-2010 Season "The Greatest Season Ever chosen by a single company" in the history of all Tucson Theatre!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Habima
If you have not read Habima, you must. You should. I'm referring to the book by Raikin Ben-Ari. Harold Clurman writes in the introduction to the book "It is no exaggeration to say the story is inspiring." Completely true, especially the first few chapters.
Habima is the National Theatre of Israel, located now in Tel Aviv - but this is the story of its beginnings, in Moscow, around the time of the revolution, 1917. It has been many years since I first read it, but is one of perhaps three books that makes me want to dedicate every fiber of my being to the cause of creating an art theatre. For those not quite that inclined, just the sense of you, your friends, your talents, your ideas, huddled together or working on the stage, full of innocence and hope, creating, anticipating - these are memories we all have - and dreams some still have - and dreams some are just finding - young and old.
Every artist wants their home - their artistic home. In this story of Habima, Ben-Ari recounts the groups work, their meeting and collaborations with Vahktangov, Birman, Michael Chekhov, and Stanislavsky himself, as they try to establish a specific theatre, a home for Jewish theatre artist in Russia, performing the plays in Hebrew. All odds are against them - but their love and pride of their heritage, their artistic aspirations and their dedication to one another sees them through.
Habima is the National Theatre of Israel, located now in Tel Aviv - but this is the story of its beginnings, in Moscow, around the time of the revolution, 1917. It has been many years since I first read it, but is one of perhaps three books that makes me want to dedicate every fiber of my being to the cause of creating an art theatre. For those not quite that inclined, just the sense of you, your friends, your talents, your ideas, huddled together or working on the stage, full of innocence and hope, creating, anticipating - these are memories we all have - and dreams some still have - and dreams some are just finding - young and old.
Every artist wants their home - their artistic home. In this story of Habima, Ben-Ari recounts the groups work, their meeting and collaborations with Vahktangov, Birman, Michael Chekhov, and Stanislavsky himself, as they try to establish a specific theatre, a home for Jewish theatre artist in Russia, performing the plays in Hebrew. All odds are against them - but their love and pride of their heritage, their artistic aspirations and their dedication to one another sees them through.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Formalistic Destruction of the True Theatrical Spirit
There was once a showcase of invited performers, groups and individuals, as kind of an afternoon long ribbon cutting ceremony for a new public performance space opening here in town. My colleagues at that time from Tucson Art Theatre and I decided to take a break from our usual routine and do something different. The people extending the invitation to us had suggested we do one of our Horton Foote one-acts, or part of one thereof. We instead announced a new work entitled "The Formalistic Destruction of the True Theatrical Spirit!" When they asked us what it was about we told them "Its about the atomization of our culture!" (A phrase adopted from a good friend). When they asked for clarification we told them "It's about commodity fetish!"
And so within a couple of weeks we had to put this performance together. To this day, some people still don't know if it was real or not. The premise was an audition. I played a just pompous enough director with a long list of credits. Esther played the Stage Manager and the rest of the group played actors seeking parts in the new production of "The Formalistic Destruction of the True Theatrical Spirit." Signs were hung announcing "try outs" and a sign-up sheet placed in view for all to see upon entering the building. My director character refused to be lower than anyone so I sat on a high ladder - coming down only when necessary to flirt or berate or observe closely, etc. The difficult part was that my colleagues in Tucson Art Theatre had created these hilarious but subtle characters who were take offs on ourselves and on various actors in town. A cruel, cruel joke. But funny as heck. They mingled among the real people, the real actors, who were unsure if they were really auditioning or if they were part of a show or what. I gave long speeches about how our culture was being atomized for the sake of selling each unit. (Totally true of course but) the style was not what people had come to expect of us. And some have not yet forgiven us for it.
I had trouble not laughing then and I have trouble not laughing now - you had to be there!
And so within a couple of weeks we had to put this performance together. To this day, some people still don't know if it was real or not. The premise was an audition. I played a just pompous enough director with a long list of credits. Esther played the Stage Manager and the rest of the group played actors seeking parts in the new production of "The Formalistic Destruction of the True Theatrical Spirit." Signs were hung announcing "try outs" and a sign-up sheet placed in view for all to see upon entering the building. My director character refused to be lower than anyone so I sat on a high ladder - coming down only when necessary to flirt or berate or observe closely, etc. The difficult part was that my colleagues in Tucson Art Theatre had created these hilarious but subtle characters who were take offs on ourselves and on various actors in town. A cruel, cruel joke. But funny as heck. They mingled among the real people, the real actors, who were unsure if they were really auditioning or if they were part of a show or what. I gave long speeches about how our culture was being atomized for the sake of selling each unit. (Totally true of course but) the style was not what people had come to expect of us. And some have not yet forgiven us for it.
I had trouble not laughing then and I have trouble not laughing now - you had to be there!
Memory
Late one night after a rehearsal, I stopped at the Dirty Grill downtown to get something to eat. As I got out of my car, a young homeless looking woman walked up to me and started talking. She was in mid sentence, mid thought somewhere along the way with something that had nothing to do with me, but she seemed so personable from the way that she approached me that I thought for a second that I knew her or that she must know me. Then I realized she was either wacked out or on drugs. And yet I found myself talking to her. "Come on" I said, "I'm going in to get something to eat. I'll buy you something if you want." She looked at me in disbelief. "Really?" she asked. "Yes, sure. Come on." I said. She was kind of dirty looking and sun burnt, weather beaten. She had a small backpack she was carrying.
The Dirty Grill is not fine dining, but heads were turning to look at us as we walked in, down the aisle along the booths. I copped my attitude - she's with me and were coming to eat and that's all you need to know so turn your little faces back around and shut up. We sat down in a booth right in the middle of the place. She picked up the menu and at first glance exclaimed "Ooh, I'm gonna get eggs and toast with jelly! Is that o.k.? "Yes, get whatever you want" I said. "I haven't had that is so long" she said. I looked closely at my unusual dinner companion. Despite my put on demeanor, I wasn't so sure this would work out. She seemed to be having two or three simultaneous conversations and I didn't know how loud she may get or if she would stay seated or what. She had all the signs of someone on meth or something equally as a bad.
"Its my birthday today" she said bluntly. I didn't believe her but what the heck. "Oh really?" I replied, "How old are you?" "I am nineteen" she said.
Her teeth were damaged. Her skin looked sun baked and wrinkled. Her hair was matted. Her hands dirty, scratched up. She was drastically aged and physically decayed. Yet it was evident that she had once, very recently, been an attractive and probably captivating young woman. It was suddenly strange and unsettling to see her now in comparison to the young hipsters in the place. How could this have happened? I mean I knew how it happened technically, but how could it have happened all the other ways, emotionally, psychically?
I asked her who she was, her name and all, where she was from, who her family was, where are they. She told me her dad lived in Phoenix. I asked about her mom. "My mom died" she said. It seemed almost but not quite true the way she said it. "You don't mean she really died do you?" I asked. "In my mind she is dead" she told me sternly. She told me she had younger brothers and sisters living with her dad.
She told me she had wanted to attend Embry-Riddle College. She had wanted to be an aeronautical engineer. She pulled a small picture from her bag and said "Look, this is me three years ago." It was a prom picture. Two young good looking kids, all-American, all dressed up in formal wear. Her and her date. It broke my heart to see. Her face was now haunting and her voice mostly lost as her own, subject to whatever it was the drugs inspired.
My thoughts were flooded with the sense of being a father. I thought of my own daughter - not that she was in that or a similar situation of course - but the fear of the possibility that it can happen to anyone. "When was the last time you talked to your dad?" I asked. "Not in a long time" she said "I wanted to call him once but didn't." I handed her my cell phone "Why don't you call him now?" She looked in disbelief once again. But she took the phone and dialed the number once I showed her how. Her face lit up when her dad apparently answered. She told him she was in Tucson, and reminded him of her birthday and they talked on for a couple of minutes.
We ate our food when it arrived and I told two young guys across from us to quit gawking when she grew self-conscious and paranoia seemed to be overtaking her. Walking out of the restaurant later I asked her where she would be going and she said south, that she hadn't been that way in a while. I asked if there was a shelter somewhere and she seemed not to know (or care maybe) and I didn't know. I got in my car and drove slowly away.
The Dirty Grill is not fine dining, but heads were turning to look at us as we walked in, down the aisle along the booths. I copped my attitude - she's with me and were coming to eat and that's all you need to know so turn your little faces back around and shut up. We sat down in a booth right in the middle of the place. She picked up the menu and at first glance exclaimed "Ooh, I'm gonna get eggs and toast with jelly! Is that o.k.? "Yes, get whatever you want" I said. "I haven't had that is so long" she said. I looked closely at my unusual dinner companion. Despite my put on demeanor, I wasn't so sure this would work out. She seemed to be having two or three simultaneous conversations and I didn't know how loud she may get or if she would stay seated or what. She had all the signs of someone on meth or something equally as a bad.
"Its my birthday today" she said bluntly. I didn't believe her but what the heck. "Oh really?" I replied, "How old are you?" "I am nineteen" she said.
Her teeth were damaged. Her skin looked sun baked and wrinkled. Her hair was matted. Her hands dirty, scratched up. She was drastically aged and physically decayed. Yet it was evident that she had once, very recently, been an attractive and probably captivating young woman. It was suddenly strange and unsettling to see her now in comparison to the young hipsters in the place. How could this have happened? I mean I knew how it happened technically, but how could it have happened all the other ways, emotionally, psychically?
I asked her who she was, her name and all, where she was from, who her family was, where are they. She told me her dad lived in Phoenix. I asked about her mom. "My mom died" she said. It seemed almost but not quite true the way she said it. "You don't mean she really died do you?" I asked. "In my mind she is dead" she told me sternly. She told me she had younger brothers and sisters living with her dad.
She told me she had wanted to attend Embry-Riddle College. She had wanted to be an aeronautical engineer. She pulled a small picture from her bag and said "Look, this is me three years ago." It was a prom picture. Two young good looking kids, all-American, all dressed up in formal wear. Her and her date. It broke my heart to see. Her face was now haunting and her voice mostly lost as her own, subject to whatever it was the drugs inspired.
My thoughts were flooded with the sense of being a father. I thought of my own daughter - not that she was in that or a similar situation of course - but the fear of the possibility that it can happen to anyone. "When was the last time you talked to your dad?" I asked. "Not in a long time" she said "I wanted to call him once but didn't." I handed her my cell phone "Why don't you call him now?" She looked in disbelief once again. But she took the phone and dialed the number once I showed her how. Her face lit up when her dad apparently answered. She told him she was in Tucson, and reminded him of her birthday and they talked on for a couple of minutes.
We ate our food when it arrived and I told two young guys across from us to quit gawking when she grew self-conscious and paranoia seemed to be overtaking her. Walking out of the restaurant later I asked her where she would be going and she said south, that she hadn't been that way in a while. I asked if there was a shelter somewhere and she seemed not to know (or care maybe) and I didn't know. I got in my car and drove slowly away.
Monday, July 6, 2009
In Principle
My work in theatre, acting, directing, teaching, is an open book, an open session, always. The knowledge and experience I possess is not meant to stay secretive nor passed on only through select and quieted channels. I mention this because there is a trend going on, here in our city even, of theatre instructors who require participants and observers of classes to sign an affidavit stating they will not talk about what they see, hear and experience within the class. I consider this ludicrous. Laughable. Really there are not enough words to express my complete and utter dissatisfaction with and opposition to this practice. My reaction was/is "you've got to be joking!"
Especially, especially, if the teaching/instructing going on is based on someone else's practice and ideas - i.e. Stanislavsky, Grotowski, Suzuki, Strasberg, etc. At that point one needs not only credibility but accountability. Anyone is free to invent their own system or techniques for acting and directing and do with it what they will. But if you choose to base your work and teaching on someone else's principles and practice, and if you choose to advertise it and propagate it as such, you must have on your side truth, accuracy, integrity, and openness.
Instructors will tell you the proof is in the pudding, meaning the results on the stage. Well, yes, within reason and with common sense. But is has been a very, very, very, long, long, long time, IF EVER, that the results any of us have seen on stage were so damn good that they require, mandate, a code of silence and secrecy as to how they were achieved. I say for instructors, myself included, the proof is also in the pudding, meaning the accuracy and insight of knowledge, experience, and means of relaying and translating to students. My own work, as I said, is an open session with open invitation. Anyone at anytime could attend or participate in the workshops I have conducted and love, hate, praise or criticise the work. If I tell someone that this is Stanislavsky's or Grotowski's or Strasberg's ideas or principles or way of working, I am going to cite, as needed, all the examples and sources and cross references that I can. If I make something up or exaggerate a story, I am going to say "I am making this up, or I am exaggerating this story for specific effect here." And while I love Stanislavsky, Grotowski and Strasberg for example, I am not going to bias and enshrine their work on Thursday for my benefit on Friday. They don't need it and if I'm worth my salt, I don't either.
I have walked away from particular workshops that I have facilitated and said to myself, "that was terrible today!" Meaning, I did not achieve or convey or give the students what they should have expected. Conversely we have had some "never ending" sessions where people wouldn't go home because we were on a such creative roll. Each day, each session, each class is a new beginning, a new quest to discover and reveal that very day, certain creative principles. The wheel is not being reinvented, but hopefully rediscovered each time. The foundations are not being discarded but are reset each time. The knowledge is not new, but the application and experience of the day is. That's how it works - and if someone wants to talk about that to anyone else in any fashion whatsoever at anytime, "feel free" would be my motto and suggestion.
Just to take Stanislavsky and his work, his ideas for example. How do we know about it? Well, for starters, he kept a journal, a diary that he wrote in practically everyday, every week of his life, long lengthy entries. That gives us some insight to his progression of ideas and lets us know just what the hell he was doing, and what he was contemplating right up until he died. Then there are the books he wrote and published at specific times in his life, for specific purposes. These summarize his reasoning and give us specific examples of what he did and how he did it. Then there are the writings of his that were published in book form after his death. Again, giving us insight into the specifics of what, how and why. Then there are the thousands of letters written by him over his lifetime. Then there is the lifetime long body of works of his actual acting and directing and organizing theatres. For these there are written reviews, Stanislavsky's own promptbooks, and even still to this day a few first hand witness accounts (one of whom lives right here in Tucson and saw the Moscow Art Theatre on tour here in NY in 1923). Then there are the written witness accounts of his rehearsals and classes. There is the oral tradition of knowledge passed unbroken from Stanislavsky to second, third and fourth generations. If that is not enough, you can buy or rent a video, The Stanislavsky Century, and see the man doing his thing that way. All that material is out there for anyone wanting it. In other words, when it comes to Stanislavsky for example, why would one even want or think such a thing as secrecy is needed or should exist? Stanislavsky said explicitly where he got his ideas, what his influences were, told us what his own personal experiences were and told us over and over what suggestions he had for us. It's all verifiable, or should be if I tell you it is "Stanislavsky."
It seems a weird day and time for me when someone is asked to sign a paper in an acting class that ensures they won't go out and speak about the work to their friends, the press, whoever.
Put me on record for openess if I haven't made that clear already.
Especially, especially, if the teaching/instructing going on is based on someone else's practice and ideas - i.e. Stanislavsky, Grotowski, Suzuki, Strasberg, etc. At that point one needs not only credibility but accountability. Anyone is free to invent their own system or techniques for acting and directing and do with it what they will. But if you choose to base your work and teaching on someone else's principles and practice, and if you choose to advertise it and propagate it as such, you must have on your side truth, accuracy, integrity, and openness.
Instructors will tell you the proof is in the pudding, meaning the results on the stage. Well, yes, within reason and with common sense. But is has been a very, very, very, long, long, long time, IF EVER, that the results any of us have seen on stage were so damn good that they require, mandate, a code of silence and secrecy as to how they were achieved. I say for instructors, myself included, the proof is also in the pudding, meaning the accuracy and insight of knowledge, experience, and means of relaying and translating to students. My own work, as I said, is an open session with open invitation. Anyone at anytime could attend or participate in the workshops I have conducted and love, hate, praise or criticise the work. If I tell someone that this is Stanislavsky's or Grotowski's or Strasberg's ideas or principles or way of working, I am going to cite, as needed, all the examples and sources and cross references that I can. If I make something up or exaggerate a story, I am going to say "I am making this up, or I am exaggerating this story for specific effect here." And while I love Stanislavsky, Grotowski and Strasberg for example, I am not going to bias and enshrine their work on Thursday for my benefit on Friday. They don't need it and if I'm worth my salt, I don't either.
I have walked away from particular workshops that I have facilitated and said to myself, "that was terrible today!" Meaning, I did not achieve or convey or give the students what they should have expected. Conversely we have had some "never ending" sessions where people wouldn't go home because we were on a such creative roll. Each day, each session, each class is a new beginning, a new quest to discover and reveal that very day, certain creative principles. The wheel is not being reinvented, but hopefully rediscovered each time. The foundations are not being discarded but are reset each time. The knowledge is not new, but the application and experience of the day is. That's how it works - and if someone wants to talk about that to anyone else in any fashion whatsoever at anytime, "feel free" would be my motto and suggestion.
Just to take Stanislavsky and his work, his ideas for example. How do we know about it? Well, for starters, he kept a journal, a diary that he wrote in practically everyday, every week of his life, long lengthy entries. That gives us some insight to his progression of ideas and lets us know just what the hell he was doing, and what he was contemplating right up until he died. Then there are the books he wrote and published at specific times in his life, for specific purposes. These summarize his reasoning and give us specific examples of what he did and how he did it. Then there are the writings of his that were published in book form after his death. Again, giving us insight into the specifics of what, how and why. Then there are the thousands of letters written by him over his lifetime. Then there is the lifetime long body of works of his actual acting and directing and organizing theatres. For these there are written reviews, Stanislavsky's own promptbooks, and even still to this day a few first hand witness accounts (one of whom lives right here in Tucson and saw the Moscow Art Theatre on tour here in NY in 1923). Then there are the written witness accounts of his rehearsals and classes. There is the oral tradition of knowledge passed unbroken from Stanislavsky to second, third and fourth generations. If that is not enough, you can buy or rent a video, The Stanislavsky Century, and see the man doing his thing that way. All that material is out there for anyone wanting it. In other words, when it comes to Stanislavsky for example, why would one even want or think such a thing as secrecy is needed or should exist? Stanislavsky said explicitly where he got his ideas, what his influences were, told us what his own personal experiences were and told us over and over what suggestions he had for us. It's all verifiable, or should be if I tell you it is "Stanislavsky."
It seems a weird day and time for me when someone is asked to sign a paper in an acting class that ensures they won't go out and speak about the work to their friends, the press, whoever.
Put me on record for openess if I haven't made that clear already.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Shake, Speare, Kick Em In The Rear
It must be the Fourth of July. I woke up craving a hotdog - and so had two - for breakfast! What the heck! With lots of mustard, ketchup, relish and potato chips! I like to get those early starts!
Its not often that I, or most actors and directors, work on Shakespeare's material. And even as a spectator there are not that many chances to see the work really around here. But there are some upcoming opportunities to take advantage of. I am one of those spectators who likes to "prepare." That means if the production is Shakespeare or something comparable, I will read and read about the play in advance. Do some talking, all that.
The Rogue Theatre will be doing Othello. Cindy will be directing. Likely Joe will be playing Iago. Maybe Patty as Desdemona. The burning question is who will be playing Othello. About three years ago I saw the Othello that Tucson Parks and Rec did at the Reid Park Bandshell. Whoever that Othello was was excellent, first rate. Not just good but charismatic and innovative. I have not seen that actor since nor had I seen him before. I hope he, or someone very much like him, appears out of nowhere again for this production. And given the way Cindy and co. do props and costumes, I can't wait to see the handkerchief! Have to wait for April for this one. I will write more on it as the months go by. There are a lot of interesting facts and tidbits around it - the original story that Shakespeare borrowed from, the events of the Cypress wars, famous actors and past productions, etc.
El Rio Theatre Project will be doing The Comedy of Errors in October at Himmel Park. I love that little amphitheatre there at "Hippie Hill." And all the activity that goes on around there in the park, the soccer matches or baseball games, the playgrounds, the dog walking, tennis courts, etc, not to mention the naughty things the park itself is famous for. The play itself I am not enamored with. In fact, all of Shakespeare's comedies I have a difficult time with. But...I have set as one of my tasks this year (futile though it yet seems to me), to reacquaint myself with these plays, these comedies, to re imagine them. And so I have as aids, this production as well as A Midsummer Nights Dream at Pima Community College in April. Pray for my revelation.
The Etcetra Series ("late night") at Live Theatre Workshop is going to do Antony and Cleopatra.
I don't know what to expect or think about this. There is a certain youthful daring in that Series that is akin to our long lost a.k.a. theatre. It freely mixes a coming of age sexuality with political and social themes. We could be in for an Egyptian drag show or we could be in for a knock 'em dead theatrical experience of rare brilliance. We shall see.
On a smaller scale (not a production), I get to sit in with Patrick and one of his summer Honors classes at the UA to discuss King Lear. If you know Patrick, you know this will not be a vague intellectual exercise but rather a serious critical evalutation of the work set within some certain but unexpected context and format that I am sure Patrick is busy conjuring up.
As an actor, or really more as a director or teacher, I have a "work demonstration" piece which is two back to back monologues from Hamlet. It is Claudius' "oh my offense is rank" followed just as it is in the play by Hamlet's "now might I do it pat." This material is designed for and presented not as performance but as a way of showing how things are formulated and how they progress. How the language and ideas are combined with physical improvisation. How the work is personalized in detail. It was developed a couple of years ago in Actor's Gymansium with the Ubi Sunt group.
Thats the Shakespearian agenda as it is shaping up for now.
Its not often that I, or most actors and directors, work on Shakespeare's material. And even as a spectator there are not that many chances to see the work really around here. But there are some upcoming opportunities to take advantage of. I am one of those spectators who likes to "prepare." That means if the production is Shakespeare or something comparable, I will read and read about the play in advance. Do some talking, all that.
The Rogue Theatre will be doing Othello. Cindy will be directing. Likely Joe will be playing Iago. Maybe Patty as Desdemona. The burning question is who will be playing Othello. About three years ago I saw the Othello that Tucson Parks and Rec did at the Reid Park Bandshell. Whoever that Othello was was excellent, first rate. Not just good but charismatic and innovative. I have not seen that actor since nor had I seen him before. I hope he, or someone very much like him, appears out of nowhere again for this production. And given the way Cindy and co. do props and costumes, I can't wait to see the handkerchief! Have to wait for April for this one. I will write more on it as the months go by. There are a lot of interesting facts and tidbits around it - the original story that Shakespeare borrowed from, the events of the Cypress wars, famous actors and past productions, etc.
El Rio Theatre Project will be doing The Comedy of Errors in October at Himmel Park. I love that little amphitheatre there at "Hippie Hill." And all the activity that goes on around there in the park, the soccer matches or baseball games, the playgrounds, the dog walking, tennis courts, etc, not to mention the naughty things the park itself is famous for. The play itself I am not enamored with. In fact, all of Shakespeare's comedies I have a difficult time with. But...I have set as one of my tasks this year (futile though it yet seems to me), to reacquaint myself with these plays, these comedies, to re imagine them. And so I have as aids, this production as well as A Midsummer Nights Dream at Pima Community College in April. Pray for my revelation.
The Etcetra Series ("late night") at Live Theatre Workshop is going to do Antony and Cleopatra.
I don't know what to expect or think about this. There is a certain youthful daring in that Series that is akin to our long lost a.k.a. theatre. It freely mixes a coming of age sexuality with political and social themes. We could be in for an Egyptian drag show or we could be in for a knock 'em dead theatrical experience of rare brilliance. We shall see.
On a smaller scale (not a production), I get to sit in with Patrick and one of his summer Honors classes at the UA to discuss King Lear. If you know Patrick, you know this will not be a vague intellectual exercise but rather a serious critical evalutation of the work set within some certain but unexpected context and format that I am sure Patrick is busy conjuring up.
As an actor, or really more as a director or teacher, I have a "work demonstration" piece which is two back to back monologues from Hamlet. It is Claudius' "oh my offense is rank" followed just as it is in the play by Hamlet's "now might I do it pat." This material is designed for and presented not as performance but as a way of showing how things are formulated and how they progress. How the language and ideas are combined with physical improvisation. How the work is personalized in detail. It was developed a couple of years ago in Actor's Gymansium with the Ubi Sunt group.
Thats the Shakespearian agenda as it is shaping up for now.
You Can Always Go...
Well I did go to the presentation on Monday about the city center planning and future. It wasn't bad - at least it was at Beowulf Alley Theatre and I bumped into a few people I know and like. I found Glenn Lyons, the CEO of the Downtown Partnership, to be a guy with good intentions, some sound, basic knowledge and great experience in urban planning and development with realistic intentions. Too bad that as of yet he just does not "get" living in a desert city. He is Canadian. Nor did the proposal and ideas put forth have any inkling, zero mentioning, of things like ecologly or nature in general.
So I did put in my two cents about a few things and it seemed some light bulbs went off. Get really urban - build high and close to create shade, consider the Tucson Mountain Park being so close a strength rather than a weakness, same with the Santa Cruz River (think inexpensive or less expensive water run off from Downtown area with that fact or water harvesting obviously), think urban farms, things like that. Simple stuff. And, please for once think of wanting everyone in the city to come there - not just those few thousand in "the foothills." Never once was a southside transportation corridor mentioned!
And lordy, they don't want those fifteen people or so who tend to congregate at the Rondstat Bus Center there. I am perplexed and disturbed over this. Why? Somebody said they are scary? They are poor? Someone wants the real estate? (They are talking of getting rid of the bus center for this reason, that those people are there.) I am not saying the bus terminal is the greatest thing in the universe or in the city but of the few crumbs that the majority of people get for their tax dollars this is an ok one. I've used the bus terminal. Hell I even took the bus downtown that very day for that very meeting from Prescott College! Its convienient and simple. All the buses gather there. Its a terminal. I wouldn't not visit New York or Atlanta or Chicago or Paris or London because they have transportation terminals with a few people around. I guess we shouldn't mix art (districts) and reality. And somehow I am gonna suspect they won't go over and ask those people, whom they say tend to congregate downtown, to attend any of these downtown planning sessions - although they say they want "everyones" input.
I want a clean and healthy and attractive environment as much as the next person but Downtown can never be as La Encantada-esque as some envision.
So I did put in my two cents about a few things and it seemed some light bulbs went off. Get really urban - build high and close to create shade, consider the Tucson Mountain Park being so close a strength rather than a weakness, same with the Santa Cruz River (think inexpensive or less expensive water run off from Downtown area with that fact or water harvesting obviously), think urban farms, things like that. Simple stuff. And, please for once think of wanting everyone in the city to come there - not just those few thousand in "the foothills." Never once was a southside transportation corridor mentioned!
And lordy, they don't want those fifteen people or so who tend to congregate at the Rondstat Bus Center there. I am perplexed and disturbed over this. Why? Somebody said they are scary? They are poor? Someone wants the real estate? (They are talking of getting rid of the bus center for this reason, that those people are there.) I am not saying the bus terminal is the greatest thing in the universe or in the city but of the few crumbs that the majority of people get for their tax dollars this is an ok one. I've used the bus terminal. Hell I even took the bus downtown that very day for that very meeting from Prescott College! Its convienient and simple. All the buses gather there. Its a terminal. I wouldn't not visit New York or Atlanta or Chicago or Paris or London because they have transportation terminals with a few people around. I guess we shouldn't mix art (districts) and reality. And somehow I am gonna suspect they won't go over and ask those people, whom they say tend to congregate downtown, to attend any of these downtown planning sessions - although they say they want "everyones" input.
I want a clean and healthy and attractive environment as much as the next person but Downtown can never be as La Encantada-esque as some envision.
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