CollisionWorks

So, second performance of Ian W. Hill's Hamlet last night - not nearly so rocky, felt really good, very appreciative and fairly sizable house. Yay!


Came home to find the first review out. Not good. Oh, well.

I won't link to it until after the run, as I did with Martin Denton's on That's What We're Here For. I haven't actually read it in its entirety, but skimmed it fast down the screen to get the gist, catch the adjectives, and put it away. I don't want to see that right now. I can't deal with that. Maybe ever.

Berit read it in full, and gave some comment on it, as did a friend, who emailed to say that he thought the reviewer "sounds like he is mother f'n hellbent on pursuing a personal vendetta against you!" He's not, man, I know him slightly socially, I'm sure I disappointed him, I've already written my "thank you" letter to him.

(I've probably mentioned it before, but it's a good piece of advice, so I'll pass it on again - the one piece of personal advice Richard Foreman gave me when doing the ForemanFests was to ALWAYS write a personal thank-you note to EVERY reviewer who comes to see the show NO MATTER WHAT kind of review they write. Richard is very VERY sharp and canny about these things, and I've felt this has indeed helped me in keeping a good relationship with the press - they seem to remember my name, at least. Though I wonder what Richard's notes to John Simon - who really DID have a "personal vendetta" against Foreman for years - must have read like after a couple of decades . . .)

I don't feel so bad after Berit's rundown of the review, as his problems with the show were primarily conceptual, rather than regarding the rocky and unsteady performance, and, well, the concept stuff is the concept stuff. It's my show, and even at the rocky opening night, it still said what I wanted it to say the way I wanted to say it, so, yeah, if you aren't behind it, that's it for the show -- though the unsteadiness of the beginning of that performance in particular may have not been confident enough to "sell" the style of the show right away; we may have needed to hook 'em and drag 'em into this world better, right away.

So it goes. I've had bad reviews before, I'll have them again. Same with raves. The show is good, and the audience was fully with us last night, so I'm good. Two more performances, hopefully more. I love working with this company, and on this show, I want to keep it up as is possible.

But we have one more review coming, which, I fear, will be in the same boat as the one we just got. {sigh}


Anyone have any suggestions for getting stains out of brick? At our tech, some of our stage blood sprayed onto the brick wall of the theatre that gives it its name (normally, it would spray onto a piece of paper hanging there, but we didn't have that paper for tech). Afterwards, we tried cleaning it up with what we had around the theatre, but liquid hand soap and paper towels don't do well on rough brick. We came back a day later with stronger cleansers and brushes, and got most of it off after about 5 or 6 scrubbings, but there is still a very slight stain left there (this is not helped by the fact that the cleaning is making the brick around the stain much brighter and less dull).

This blood comes off anything, and out of clothing, like it was never there, so I'm surprised at how persistent it is on the brick (porous ceramics are rather different, indeed). I suppose, because we waited a day, thinking it would just sit there on the outside like so many other things we've had to clean up at The Brick recently (taffy, gum, clay), and of how it comes out of clothes after several days sitting there, that the time it spent there let the dyes sink in. A "foam cleaner" has been suggested. Any ideas?


Anyway, I should go and deal with other things today. It's my 39th birthday. I'm going to a general birthday backyard BBQ party that Daniel McKleinfeld and Maggie Cino run every year for the members of this group of friends with June birthdays - Maggie and Daniel in particular, but also Berit, and me, and a few others I think.

Last time I played a major classical role was 15 years ago this month, when I turned 24 while I was playing Marlowe's Faustus. Last night I saw someone from the group of friends that put that production on (though he wasn't involved) at The Brick to see another show, who I hadn't seen in about 12-14 years. He's trying to rustle up some of those old friends to come and see my show later this month, so, that would be a nice way of getting back in touch with them.


More soon. (oh, and sorry about no cats or random ten two weeks in a row -- too busy . . . oh, hell with it, I'll do a random ten as another entry right now . . .)

I am tired. I am weary. I could sleep for a thousand years.


But tonight I'm playing Hamlet.


Tech last night - I got home at 5.30 am, and don't really feel like dealing with computer, internet, etc. right now, but I should say something as I get ready today.


I've been thinking about this show for 18 years, working on it for 15, one way or another. Now it all comes down to bare practicalities. Will this work? Will this work? Will we have the paper for the set that UPS hasn't delivered yet or have to run frantically and find a substitute of some kind? Will we have time to make the stage blood? Will the transitions actually work as smoothly as they did last night (which wasn't always the smoothest but was amazing considering how little work we've been able to do with them)? I have to finish the program. I have to go over my part again. And again. I have to remember to thank people who should be thanked. I have to keep trying to remember things I've forgot and do it without torturing myself into anxiety. I have to edit down some sound cues and lengthen others. I have to make up press packs, just in case. I have to do the laundry for the cast to get the stage blood out (tasty stuff Berit's made - it's the peanut-butter/vodka based mix - I think there's chocolate in there, too). Berit has to pluck my eyebrows and maybe - will we have time? - do my roots.


It's a tech-light show for me - only 69 light cues in 91 pages; usually I average 2.5 light cues per page - my sound cues (lettered, as Berit does) only go from A to SS (I have, in a 50-minute play, gone from A to QQQQ), but some of the tech that there is is a bitch. I was surprised at how easy tech went, actually, though surprised at how long - though, no, I didn't keep the actors there until 5.00 am, Berit and I (and Aaron Baker, who stayed to help, thanks Aaron) had to spend a few hours painting the set and cleaning the theatre after we finished. The blood did not completely come off the wall - I hope it isn't a problem for the one day at The Brick it's there; we need an abrasive brush and more powerful cleanser. Comes out of clothes just fine, but sticking to brick? Not so good.

Aaron reminded me late last night, "Eighteen years, right?" So, I should feel like I finally achieved some long-standing dream. But all I can deal with is what has to be done for tonight.

Though I looked at the stage over and over last night and kept thinking, "This looks GOOD." So maybe it is. Different for me, I guess - Berit says it's "cleaner" than usual. Peter (Bean) Brown said the same at the act break, that he's used to my "junky" sets (noting that he likes them, as do I) and that this looks like "money." Whatever. It is what it is.

I think it's good. I think it works. There are bits, tiny, brief bits, that don't, where it's my fault and something isn't working (one bit - mesmerizing in rehearsal, was lying there like a lox with the tech elements added; maybe it'll be different tonight). But altogether, it works. It does what I want it to do - sometimes not at all in the way I've been figuring on for years, but it a better way.

It works. That's what should concern me.


I hope some of you see it, I hope you enjoy it. If you read this, you know where to find it.


I have a massive headache. I'm going to go soak for a while and get ready. I need to leave the production world for a while and get my actor bag on. I'm playing Hamlet in eight-and-a-half hours, dammit.

I'm about to drive off to Maine to get my teeth taken care of - accompanied today by Aaron Baker, Ian W. Hill's Hamlet actor and friend for 24 years, who was going to New Hampshire near I-95 himself and could use a lift.


Rehearsal last night until 10.30 pm, then work at The Brick. Got home at midnight.

Only rehearsed Act I - getting late, and it didn't feel worth it to keep everyone especially late. Scattered energies (including my own, I guess).


Berit stayed up most of the night working on the postcard for the show so we could send it out today. Here's what we have now:





I'm sure I bore people saying it, but I do have to keep remarking on how amazing it is to me, with this show that I've been considering for 18 years and working on (and least textually, off-and-on) for 15 years, to see ideas I've had bouncing around in my head for so long actually coming to fruition. I had the idea for the design of this card sometime around 1994, and here it is, pretty much as I've always imagined it (except I always saw my head more at an angle, and the fire and text levels are more recent additions to the fantasy).


I don't think Berit has the back done yet, so I'll have some notes for her when she's up about typography. Usually, with something like this, I have the design, Berit accomplishes it with her mad Photoshop skillz, then I go in and do the type layout and processing, as I'm very critical of that -- from 4th to 9th grades, I went to a school with a working print shop where you could take "Print" as an elective; I spent years putting movable type into composing sticks and eventually working my way up to linotype machines.

With this trip north I won't be able to do the type myself, so before I fell asleep I wrote out what info needed to go on the card, and where, and in what typeface (Bank Gothic). Now as I look, it needs some filters on that title there, but I wouldn't know what until I played with it. Something to take away the computer-sharpness a bit. I'll call Berit from the road (she's quite out now) and mention it (if she hasn't read this already).


Okay, Aaron's arrived - we should be out the door soon. Next time in Portland.

The Pretentious Festival has opened. Look on Our Works, Ye Mighty, and despair!


Now I have a week and two days to get Ian W. Hill's Hamlet ready. Well, we're pretty much okay. I have lots of things to do, but time to do them in, pretty much:

The postcard (mostly in Berit's hands now - we have the image, she has to do the processing/layout from my design, then I do the typography).

Building the platforms - I thought more shows in the Fest wanted to use them, but it seems like it will only be mine and Q1: The Bad Hamlet unless others grab them (Q1 is wonderfully reciprocating by letting me borrow an Ophelia coffin and a Yorick skull) - I'm making two new 2x7' platforms and reusing the 6x3.5' top of the Temptation bed and putting 2' legs on them (though I'm making the legs removable for storage purposes and so other shows can leg them at different heights; I'm making legs for Q1 of 8" on one platform and 18" on another).

I have to go through the potential music I've put aside and settle on certain music for certain scenes/transitions and get the sound effects together - some stock, some to record (I need to have the music settled for the dumb show by Monday, when we rehearse it again to put it to whatever music I pick).

Get the last of my lines down - I'm almost there.

Get the fencing foils, masks, jackets, gloves (and the fight choreographer) in.

Charts and diagrams for the company for the scene transitions (lots of platform, chairs, and desk moves).

Props that we don't already have must be acquired.

I'm sure we'll think of other things we've missed. Hopefully, well before tech.


Oh, yeah, and rehearse it some more . . . We have four more runthrus - Tuesday, Friday, Saturday, and next Monday (tech). And that's it. Some work tomorrow at The Brick (dumb show) and maybe next Sunday, but that's it.

Luckily, it's looking good as of yesterday. The previous run, on Thursday, was logi and lacked momentum. It wasn't helped by the fact that we were focusing on the transitions, and so there was a long pause after each scene while we worked out who was moving what, but even taking that into account, it just kinda lay there like a lox. Once upon a time, it would have worried me, but I could see the work we'd been doing underneath the blah-ness. The thought was there, the smarts, the levels, just not the energy.

So I wasn't worried, and rightly so, as it turns out - yesterday's run worked very nicely indeed, despite (or maybe helped by, actually) being in the small room at Studio 111. A hot, confined space, and there we are, doing Hamlet (and it wasn't even all 18 of us; just 14). I wanted to laugh, sometimes, seeing us do the great big Famous Work in this little room. We had to skip sections due to actor lack, but the show was mostly there, with marked blocking at many points. The intensity, drive, and focus was back. We did good.


I was a wreck after, though. I need a little more fuel in me before I do Hamlet, and water around offstage. My engine was running on fumes right after. But a trip over to The Brick to see Art Wallace's Between the Legs of God was a nice warm-down (hysterically funny, with a few old classic in-jokes from Art's and my days at Nada). Followed by a screening of Art's DV-Movie from a few years back, Melon of the Sky (in which my performance did not embarrass me so much as I thought it would - not nearly as bad as I remembered), and a few hours of Berit and I hanging out at the space with friends, eventually closing down the place with Aaron Baker, Gyda Arber, Tom X. Chao, and Michael Criscuolo. A nice evening of theatre talk and bitchy dish (like there's a difference). Just what I needed.


Ah, just spent time on a show announcement I just realized should be it's own entry. Coming up shortly.

Word is getting out there about The Pretentious Festival (The Most Important Theatre Festival On Earth). It seems to be a good hook.


David Cote has a nice little piece at the Time Out New York blog, and Brick Person Jeff Lewonczyk is interviewed by Michael Criscuolo at the nytheatrecast. I and Ian W. Hill's Hamlet get some nice mention there.

The Festival is also in the Sunday Times Summer Preview -- the blurb is HERE at the Pretentious Festival Blog, with annotations from Mr. Lewonczyk.

I'm getting interviewed next week for The Brooklyn Rail. Better get my ego-bag on.


And I'll be on my way to Maine tomorrow to get my teeth worked on - I got that all worked out. So, good.

Hip hip hoorah!


Not only do I have the Intarwebs back and working at CollisionWork Central, but we now haves the DSL and the wireless, enabling both our fine fine superfine computers much faster access.


This allows us now to view such fabulous videos as this one, a very special piece promoting the Pretentious Festival:





Which features Berit, myself, and a number of Brick Irregulars. Enjoy, if you must.

1. EGO


I finished my production draft of Hamlet (for the production I'll be designing/directing in June) on Sunday. It's 92 pages long in the standard script format that I like working in, which isn't bad (I am hoping, HOPING, for a 2-hour 15-minute show, but I'll live if it's up to 2:45 with intermission). I have to send an email out to all the actors I want to keep working with, saying "Who wants to do this, and what part(s) are you interested in?" and see what response I get.

I have Bryan Enk cast as Polonius/Fortinbras, Daniel Kleinfeld as Rosencrantz (and possibly others), me as Hamlet, and that's all that's set right now. There are specific people I have in mind for Osric, Voltimand, and Guildenstern, but the rest is wide open, and I want to read as many people as I can for everything else. As usual, I would rather work with the Gemini CollisionWorks regulars, but I may have to venture outside the group for some of the parts. I don't care all that much about casting "age-appropriate," necessarily -- probably as a result of always being cast myself as "the older person" in every damned show I've done since I was eleven (result of a deep voice and serious demeanor) -- but I'm not sure if any of the group will necessarily want to play my mother and stepfather (hell, Glenn Close was only nine years older than Mel Gibson when they did the parts). I'm trying to play about 15 years younger than I am, so maybe it'll work out with people from the GCW pool.


I'm in the middle of breaking down the script into french scenes now -- taking an internet break from this -- and I'm going to need at least 18 actors for this show. There appear to be two ways to break this down -- either I have 18 actors, all of who have at least one speaking role (many of them not very large) with most having a lot more non-speaking stage time, or 10-11 actors with all the speaking roles, lots of doubling, everyone getting lots of "speaking" stage time, and another 7-8 non-speaking "extras" who I can rotate out performance to performance, if necessary. I'd rather the first plan, of course, but I still have some paranoid worries that I won't be able to get the actors I want for some fo these parts if they "only" have their one or two short scenes (of course, this was how World Gone Wrong worked, though I didn't realize it at all at the time). Well, I'll get the people. I have to finish the breakdown(s) first so I know exactly what doubles I'm trying to cast . . .

I also need to check in with the others at The Brick to be sure everyone's aware that this is happening and that I'm really set with this for the Pretentious Festival in June. It's come up in conversation with Jeff, Hope, and Robert, I think, so I just have to check with Michael, I guess, to be sure we're all a go on this.

The show is also now officially titled Ian W. Hill's Hamlet.

I had considered this some time ago, and discarded the idea, but then Berit had the idea on her own and brought it up, and convinced me to go ahead with it (she's gonna read this and complain, "Oh, sure, blame me!" - no blame, she's right, I just needed a push). This production is, after all, for the Pretentious Festival, and the production is not in fact going to be very pretentious at all (quite the opposite in some ways, though certain kinds of pretension are critiqued in it). The pretension is in me as actor/manager taking on this role and directing it as well, of course. A role nobody else would probably ever cast me in. I'm only able to get up the nerve to do it because of the cover of "The Pretentious Festival" and by thinking of the fine writing Steven Berkoff did in his book I Am Hamlet about directing and playing the role himself -- his point being that ANY actor can play Hamlet, the role is so vast, containing multitudes, that as long as the actor correctly finds and plays THEIR Hamlet, they can't go wrong. This comforts me sometimes.

That said, I'm still planning on losing as much weight as I can for the part (I'm at about 250 lbs. right now, I want to get rid of around 70 lbs. of that or so - probably not going to happen, but I can try), getting rid of the beard and much of my bushy eyebrows, and going blond. I have no idea if this will really matter to the audience one way or another, but it'll matter to me.

Berit has also reminded me that any time I'm asked about what I'm doing next by anyone in the Indie/Off-Off community and I say, "Hamlet," they immediately get that I'll be directing and playing the role and seem honestly excited to see what I'm going to do with it. So within a small community, it's a selling point. Ian W. Hill's Hamlet (by William Shakespeare)

I had also decided anyway that 2007 was to be "The Year of Ego and Self-Promotion" for myself anyway, figuring that if I was to really try to accomplish anything in my art (as in possibly move towards making an actual living with it), I was going to have to unleash my monstrous ego, sell myself, and huckster the work as much as possible and not be ashamed of it. I'm not very good at this -- I have the ego, oh dear, DO I have the ego, but I've worked very hard for years (not always so successfully) to keep it under wraps, as the display of ego in others (even people I respect and admire who deserve to have large egos) nauseates me. Well, this year, I'm going to make myself sick.

(. . . oh god I'm gonna get KILLED for this . . .)