CollisionWorks

Well, we've been back home for most of this week, and as I'd hoped (and often happens), I was able to get into a productive, creative rhythm up in Maine that I'm continuing here at home.

I hope we get to go back up again for another week or two when things free up here (Berit's stage-managing a show right now), which won't be for a while. Fine by me, as I was reminded why January isn't necessarily the best time to visit Maine:

Actually, that's glib -- the snow was light and lovely, and we were warm and toasty inside. Except for the time when I had to go out driving in a snowstorm as we were out of food -- I had been waiting for the snow to stop for two days so I could go out, and it didn't. Luckily, they know how to keep roads clear in snow up there.

So I worked on the three scripts, but not as much as I'd hoped on Spacemen and Wedding. Got a good deal done on Devils though, with some help from the loaner cat we spoil up there, Bappers:

Back home in Gravesend, I spread out all the cards I made up, breaking down the scenes and bits I want to use from the three versions of the Devils of Loudon story and try to find a structure that works for the production I want to do:

And again, help from a feline is appreciated. Here, I'm asking Hooker if I should have either three or four exorcism scenes, with the last causing some massive chaos so Act One will have a real big finale . . .

And every day, in the late afternoon, I take a break from the script work and take a walk. It helps me get up and DO this if I take the camera and think of it as "Picture Time," so I've been getting some nice images of the Gravesend/Bensonhurst/Sheepshead Bay area in which we live. It's not Art, but it keeps my eyes engaged, energized, and happy.

Sometimes I shoot because I like the light:

(above, Avenue R; below, Avenue S)

I've always been fond of the contrast between fading natural light and rising artificial light:

And sometimes I'm just documenting the features of the neighborhood that I like. Such as the actual still-operating porno theatre attended by some of the Orthodox Jewish gentlemen in the neighborhood, across from the Kosher candy store with the unfortunate typography (I think it's supposed to be "Kandi KING," but the candy piece standing in for the final "I" makes me think the place has something to do with rampaging giant apes):

This one below used to be the best hardware store within walking distance of home. Berit used to get lots of supplies, and found many other useful items, for our shows here. One night we drove past and it was surrounded by fire trucks, with huge flames and clouds of black smoke pouring from the roof and every crack. The next day they had the sign up on the smoldering building (the NEXT DAY, a PROFESSIONALLY-PRINTED sign! that's industry!) saying they be back, but that was at least 2 years ago, so I don't think we'll see them again.

We also were, at first, a little weirded out by the "MIKVEH ON PREMISES" sign. At a HARDWARE store? I've since seen the same sign at a hardware store up on 18th Avenue, and that's a much less Orthodox neighborhood than ours, but really?

I guess if you're out, and you need a mikveh, hey, why not? Hardware Store. Sure.

So work proceeds. I may have gotten the lucky break I was looking for in writing the Wedding when we stayed in Mattapoissett with Berit's parents for a night on the way back from Maine. They had gotten a kinda-cheesy, but still actually helpful, book from the library that was to help brides prepare for their wedding, and some of the text, and Berit's reactions to it, were nicely theatrical. Something I can use.

And the music keeps playing while I work. When I work in giant blocks of time for many days in a row, I like to listen to HUGE playlists containing the entire (or almost-entire) recorded work of a favorite artist, in chronological order or recording -- for some reason, it keeps me going and gives me . . . continuity?

Thus far, I've recently made it the complete works of Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen (with a break at 1979 for The Monkees; there's only SO much Cohen one can take in a row), and we're currently up to 1985 with The Rolling Stones (and THIS is a depressing playlist, ultimately, but I'm determined to go all the way to the bitter end). Berit is VERY patient. Maybe next I'll go for The Velvet Underground, which will be much kinder to her (as long as it's not Beefheart, Zappa, The Residents, or Elvis Costello, she should be fine).

But right now, a break from the decline of the Glimmer Twins to do a Random Ten from the 25,435 on the iPod, with associated links, where available:

1. "Blue Law" - Filth - Split 7" EP
2. "Boomada" - Les Baxter & His Orchestra - Swing For A Crime
3. "Let's Find Out" - Armando Trovaioli (feat. Isabel Bond) - Beat at Cinecittà Vol.3
4. "Dirty Love" - Mandre - Mandre
5. "Beautiful New Born Child" - Eric Burdon & War - The Black-Man's Burdon
6. "Pat's Song" - The Peppermint Trolley Company - Fading Yellow volume 7
7. "Baby Blue" - The Groop - Woman You're Breaking Me
8. "Ando Meio Desligado" - Os Mutantes - A Divina Comédia Ou Ando Meio Desligado
9. "Guess Things Happen That Way" - Johnny Cash - The Complete Sun Singles: Volume 3
10. "Almost Black, Pt. 1" - James White & The Blacks - Off White

You already got some cat photos for today, but here's another of a crazed Hooker trying to eat his own tail in Berit's lap:

Okay, back to work. Now I have to go through the Aldous Huxley Devils of Loudon book pulling out anything I want to use in the show that Whiting didn't use in his play or Russell in the movie.

One of those early mornings where nothing seems right with the world or the work.

I hate these mornings.

Just have to get up and go about things anyway as if you were happy while feeling you're expending a lot of effort on stuff that isn't what you or anyone else wants. Woke up suddenly with the feeling of "something's wrong and I have to take care of it now." then realized it was hours before I could do anything, but couldn't get back to sleep.

I'll be better when I'm working. That's when I see how it all works. It's the in-between times that get intolerable.

I only feel sane when rehearsing or performing. The rest of the time I'm a mess. I mentioned that to the cast of Everything Must Go the other day and it was commented that this was obviously why I overcommit myself to too many projects at once - I'm just trying to fill as much time with the work that makes me feel good.

So, speaking of the work that makes everything good . . . (and ain't this a fine fine superfine way to open a post on the morning after my big BIG season of three shows has just opened at The Brick last night?)

Yup, Harry in Love opened last night. Spell opens tonight (for a "preview performance" as it is now being called).

Harry was mostly good, and where it wasn't, the house wouldn't know so much. We did it, it was rockier as it went along for reasons best left unsaid here, and we saw it could play. We had but three people in the house, however, so laughs were near nonexistent (the show needs lots of laughers to build through).

Berit and I also still think leaving the air conditioner on in the space kills humor (and Berit says it definitely does from sitting in the house during rehearsals where we've been leaving it on to practice) but we're alone in the company in that regard, so it's on and acting like a piece of wet felt placed over the show. I think you need to hear your voice slap back from the walls and ceiling to time things properly - I also think some of my current vocal problems - I've lost a lot of my voice - come from not being able to judge exactly how loud I have to scream during the screaming sections of the show, and just going full out without restraint (at the same time, I like the huskiness that has developed for Harry's voice). I've gone along with it because I am on the line about whether the audience being potentially overheated is just as bad as the sound of the AC (comedy usually plays better at around 50 degrees Fahrenheit - people are cold, but the sharpness encourages laughing, supposedly).

Six-of-one, half-a-dozen of the other, I guess.

So, it played, and okay, but not nearly as well as we could do. I wasn't at my best, but I was better than I feared I might be - I had been determined to get rest before opening no matter what, and . . . I got some, but not as much as I wanted. My lines got shakier as the show went on (why, I don't know, I've studied them all the same - actually even more for the late scenes) and I lost a few that I KNOW early in the show just from opening night nerves. And I wasn't alone, accounting for the severe ricketiness in the last scene.

But I pulled off the demanding role just fine. The other actors were often in what I think of as "opening night" mode, which I've never found a way around - everything just a little TOO intense and oversold a bit. First audiences will do that. At least, when you have an opening night like this - okay, but not in the highest percentile - you don't run the risk of what ALWAYS happens (in my shows at least) when you have a GREAT opening performance - and which I've also never found a way around - the Sophomore Slump where everyone is so overconfident with one good one under their belt they are all full of unfocused, random energy spitting everywhere that the second show becomes an energetic mess. Never found a cure for that yet. Maybe some day.

Got some photos from last night, requested for press purposes. Here, Harry steams while Wasselman gloats:

Which turns bad as Harry winds up with the only liftable chair in the room:

Later, Dr. Meyers gives "medical attention" to Paul, while Harry threatens to open Hilda's eyes by force:

And eventually, Harry carries Hilda around for some time, not believing that she wants him to kiss her:

So Berit and I spent the other night building the Harry set, which was a surprising jump for us in set terms the way Ambersons was in terms of costumes (though far less expensive).

It still wasn't fully done for last night - the trim wasn't painted, and we couldn't get the - rather bad - paintings that we acquired up in time, but that will be there on Saturday. Here are some stages of our all-night construction binge (with Berit slightly visible here and there, painting):

No, not exactly big budget - a bit high-schoolly perhaps - but needed for the show, not something we generally do, and certainly not something seen too often in The Brick (or most Indie Theatre). There's something great about standing backstage behind actual flats that gives a certain kind of theatrical rush. Really nice.

And tonight, Spell, which is stressful in that, hey, it's an original two-act play. By me. My first, really (the others have been mostly collage, which is it's own art form, so this feels different). It's less stressful in that, thankfully, I'm not acting in it. So I can deal with other things right now.

So, B& I are about to go through our day and plan out what we need to do for the show tonight.

At a time like this, I need to hear some happy music, something like this . . .

But since I don't have the dulcet tones of Xmas-a-Go-Go, I'll deal with what's coming from the iPod this morning . . .

1. "WAOG Promo" - radio spot - Rock'n'Roll - The Untold Story Vol. 6: The Jivin' Novelty Party Record
2. "Traits and Traitors" - Sky Larkin
3. "Colour of Dream" - Knights of the Road - Diggin' For Gold - Vol. 9 A Collection of Demented 60's R&B/Punk & Mesmerizing 60's Pop
4. "Mr. Woman" - Electric Six - Switzerland
5. "Snake in the Grass" - Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Tich - All The Hits
6. "Dumbness" - Art Objects - Bagpipe Music
7. "Sunny" - Dusty Springfield - Dusty volume 2
8. "To Be Happy Is The Real Thing" - Intruders - Save The Children
9. "Old Man" - Bari & The Breakaways - Oceanic Odyssey Volume 09
10. "Here Come the Martian Martians" - Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers - The Best of Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers

Now B & I have to run off and finish things for Spell tonight. There's not really a comparative lot of them, but they involve going all over the place and more work than such simple things should take. I'm worried about having to buy boots for castmembers - I'm not exactly "Mr. Clothes." of course (B & I, as we often mention, do EVERYTHING in theatre except costumes, makeup, and hair - we're at a loss on those almost completely). I also have to do the program and fix some sound/projection issues. And take down and put away the Harry set from last night.

At a time like this, I need the affection of my cats. Will Moni help . . ?

Hmmn, apparently not. Well, I can always count on my big boy Hooker for some affection when I need it . . .

That's better. And so am I. Took me three hours to write this in the background while I worked on other things and I'm feel a lot better now. Okay, back to work. That's what makes all of this worth it . . .

1. Still casting for the June-August shows - got a lot of great connections through the actors already cast. Haven't been able to actually do anything with these connections except send out a form email saying, basically, "I'm really busy until Wednesday at the earliest, but I DO want to meet with you and I'll be in touch about it around then." I could be doing this now, I guess, but I need some personal time right now.

2. I need this as the last few days have been a bit nutso, though ultimately rewarding and not as much of a pain at all as I thought they'd be. Friday was the Notes from Underground opening and party at The Brick. I was hoping to set up a bit for Penny Dreadful on Saturday, but that proved to be impossible at the time - the show and the party were kind of more important at the moment, and needed to be handled.

Didn't see the show (maybe this weekend) but the party was great. At least the start of it. I left early as I had to be back early the next day.

Saturday was Penny Dreadful tech from 8.30 am to 4.30 pm. Longer than usual, but it was very difficult with the restrictions of doing it in the Notes set - as in, Notes is done entirely with practicals and there are no stage lights focused there. So I focused and moved some lights and wound up with six instruments with which I could light the show, including a scroller so I could have some color variation. And it wound up looking lovely, actually, even without the footlights which I had been thinking of as the trademark of the Penny Dreadful "look" - with the audience on all four sides of the playing space, there was no way to use the floor-mount birdies without blinding the viewers. And, of course, I couldn't actually see the show while I was running it because of the setup.

It was nerve-wracking to run the show blind, relying on an audio monitor (which had trouble with soft lines of dialogue), a video monitor (from one corner angle, not seeing all of the playing area), and Adam, the director, shining a flashlight up at the booth to indicate when scene changes had been fully accomplished. But it ran well. I made two sound cue screw-ups, one minor which no one but me and Adam would notice, one major (to me) that no one did notice apparently, but stabbed me in the heart because the moment was so much better with the correct sound cue (thing to ALWAYS watch for when using CD players with Auto-Cue - advancing to the next track at the same time as the machine is doing the same thing, putting you one track off where you think you are; Berit, about the best board op you'll find, notes that she's made this mistake more times than she'd care to admit, and that it accounts for the vast majority of sound errors she makes).

Sunday, I had to cover for Berit as stage manager/board op on 3800 Elizabeth while she made props for Cat's Cradle and Hiroshima. This also went well, and was moderately stress-free, apart from the live commercial that Gyda Arber and I did towards the end of the program - 3800 Elizabeth, being a sitcom, has commercial breaks. So far, these had been parody commercials made on video by Art Wallace and projected in the appropriate places, but creator Aaron Baker has wanted real commercials for local businesses to be done live in there too, and we had our first sale recently, so Gyda and I did the spot, which I had in my head vaguely for a couple of weeks and wrote down quickly for Gyda less than an hour before doing it.

( Here's what we did . . . )

Aaron Baker directs Michael Criscuolo, Iracel Rivero, and Peter Handy.

And that was fun. And I came home to find Berit cheery in her prop building for once - she was pleased that the creators of the first atomic bomb (she had to build a miniature replica) had made it approximately the shape and of a 1-liter plastic soda bottle, making her life much easier for a bit.

Yesterday was the load-in for Cat's Cradle, and I was there to get the video and some sound working and do whatever I could to help. Load-ins are often long, sloggy, unpleasant days, but this wound up being fast, and pleasant and fun and light. A good crew seems to keep it all light, even when wanting to scream about not having as many working dimmers as they had been told. Timothy Reynolds helped me in particular, handling most of the ladder work that he's good at (and I'm not) while I ran around buying cables and adaptors I needed and getting certain things ready.


Edward Einhorn and Art Wallace, who declared 10 years ago that Edward was "his evil nemesis," put aside their differences to peel up tape from the set floor. Timothy Reynolds smiles at this show of indie theatre brotherhood.

So, long day, yes, but fun, mostly. I had too much coffee and too many donuts and got a classic "tummy ache," abated eventually by a meatball hero and some ginger ale. Got the video working. All good. All fine. OK! I have to go back later today for some tweaks and to install a mic stand on the set's podium. I also have to drive out to Ikea in New Jersey to pick up a table for Hiroshima and go to BJ's Shopping Club in the Gateway Plaza for concession supplies. But I'm trying to put that off till tomorrow.

3. Videos of note that I've seen and wanted to pass on . . .

( Now behind a cut for easier loading . . . )

4. Alain Robbe-Grillet died. I'd be a liar if I didn't say I was more familiar with his influence than his work (apart from the amazing script for Last Year at Marienbad), but that influence is large. Large enough for me to have been daunted in actually delving into the work. Maybe I will now. Lovely tributes from Glenn Kenny and Tim Lucas.

That's it for now. Back to work. Or at least, breakfast.