Well we did it. It's over, it's over, it's over.... We spent our last day as a cast together laboring, much like our first day together, except it is turning colder and the days are shorter. The seasons have changed. What's the take away from this experience, aside from sleep deprivation, intense emotional and physical exhaustion and a void that's left from the Tuesdays, Thursday and Sundays that will no longer be shared with our RENT community? I suppose that remains to be seen.
I was speaking to Adam (Mark) about the potential impact he will have in the lives of the students he is and will be teaching as Choral Director at DHS and how it is so much like planting seeds. He may never know that he saved someone's life or that his influence may just be the turning point for someone who is at the end of their rope or he may have to wait 20-30 years for his former students to report back to him that he was an monumental influence on them. You may never get to see the fruits of your labor. But you must have faith, no matter what, that what you are doing is going to make a huge difference in someone's life. Not unlike this recent journey we have all taken together.
We are fortunate that we have already impacted one another by lowering our guards, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with one another and truly becoming a community in every sense of the word. We are all so different, but we found common ground, love of performance, love of our art and most importantly, unconditional acceptance and love of one another.
Last night at dinner Jenny read an email from someone who had attended our show. It is obvious that we succeeded in planting seeds. Our message was heard, the barriers are breaking down. Awareness has been raised about issues and situations that have been locked in the closet and swept under the rug for far too long. I believe we made a difference and the seeds we have planted will germinate and spring forth during the seasons of love. Maybe not this year, perhaps not next year, but in it's own time, it will happen. We may not see it, but we must trust the process.
It is time for me to return to my somewhat mundane existence. Perhaps not mundane by some people's standards, but certainly mundane in comparison to the magnitude and fullness of living we have packed into the past two months together. I need to reconnect with my beautiful children. My son had tears in his eyes this morning, when he told me how much he had missed me this past week. It's time to remove my temporary tattoos, say goodbye to the tramp stamp and try in futility to remove the layers of mascara and eye liner that seems to accumulate and are impossible to get off. It is my intention to continue to live in the moment, but remember the love. We can't go back. We can't stay where we are today. We have to keep moving forward toward the next season of love.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
I'm trying to remember the last time I walked in my door before midnight lol... been more than a week I think. Not complaining just amused at how these shows launch normal lives into chaos and how we keep coming back for more, again and again... Today is my daughter's birthday, she called me from her girlfriend's house where she slept over last night to tell me that she wanted to see me today and to not even think about going off to rehearsal without having some face time with her (any of you who know me and how close my kids and I are, knows that would never happen) but it is kind of cool to know that she misses me and sometimes life does not have to go on "Without You".
Last night's rehearsal was a melding of past, present and future again. We have now entered "performance mode". Everyone has their game face on and it is clear we all mean business and are giving it all we've got. This show is special. This cast is special. I am in sheer awe of all of your talents, your dedication and the love we share, love of the process, the performance, our need to share what we've slaved and agonized and deliberated over these past couple of months. It all seems kind of masochistic in a way. Some of us have drawn lines in the sand, to the extent we are willing to sacrifice certain facets of our lives, perhaps jeopardizing important relationships to be able to perform as artists. I can visualize a parallel to Maureen's protest against Cyberland. We're all taking a giant "Leap of Faith" to jump over the moon. I mostly appreciate your love for one another, your community. The tolerance I see, even when we are all exhausted and spent. The extra mile that you all have gone to show compassion, to handle each other's feelings so carefully, to not alienate anyone, to include all, regardless of the imperfections and flaws. It is hard to spawn negativity in an atmosphere of unconditional acceptance.
Whatever you take away from this experience, most importantly "Remember the Love".
Last night's rehearsal was a melding of past, present and future again. We have now entered "performance mode". Everyone has their game face on and it is clear we all mean business and are giving it all we've got. This show is special. This cast is special. I am in sheer awe of all of your talents, your dedication and the love we share, love of the process, the performance, our need to share what we've slaved and agonized and deliberated over these past couple of months. It all seems kind of masochistic in a way. Some of us have drawn lines in the sand, to the extent we are willing to sacrifice certain facets of our lives, perhaps jeopardizing important relationships to be able to perform as artists. I can visualize a parallel to Maureen's protest against Cyberland. We're all taking a giant "Leap of Faith" to jump over the moon. I mostly appreciate your love for one another, your community. The tolerance I see, even when we are all exhausted and spent. The extra mile that you all have gone to show compassion, to handle each other's feelings so carefully, to not alienate anyone, to include all, regardless of the imperfections and flaws. It is hard to spawn negativity in an atmosphere of unconditional acceptance.
Whatever you take away from this experience, most importantly "Remember the Love".
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Honesty and inhibitions... Oy Vey!
Previously I blogged about my very distant past and how I am ironically and intrinsically linked to this show. After tonight's rehearsal I find myself reflecting on who I am today and how we will pull this thing off.
I am not a stranger to change, taking risks and I seem to reinvent myself on a regular basis. But this is a little bit different than some of my previous transformations. Like many people today, I feel over burdened, my time is at a premium, I walked into rehearsal tonight hoping to make it through on auto-pilot. I put my brain on cruise control. I had not planned to do anything too daring. I hadn't planned on taking any risks... Damn it Matt Woods! You got me into this lol. Well I have no idea who this Jesse Pierce guy thinks he is. He obviously didn't get the memo who he's dealing with. This guy is a major pain in the ass... nit picking, pushing and bossing people around, who does he think he is??? Oh yeah he's the Director. Apparently he doesn't realize that I have shoes older than him and most of my fellow cast members.
OK so I had a little bit of an attitude this evening. This Jesse guy is watching me. He is not letting me coast. I am under a microscope. It was really starting to piss me off. His scrutiny pushes me to try a little harder, even if it is begrudgingly against my will. Oh my God, could he be more annoying? It occurs to me that no matter how minor, how insignificant the role, everyone involved is going to have to strip themselves down to the naked core of their role and parade around baring it all... nothing is sacred, and no one is safe.
Once I accepted this fact and forced myself to put myself out there. I committed to take a risk and throw myself into it, rather than just go through the motions and pretend to act, it got better, but still very uncomfortable and not in the least bit safe. There is just something so strange and taboo when I find myself dancing, bumping and grinding with these guys who are in their 20's (Many of my contemporaries, have kids and grandkids their ages). Then there are my female cast-mates who are also throwing themselves into the more lesbian/less heterosexual characteristics of their roles and there we find ourselves entwined as well.
I so admire so many of the men and women who have been cast in the lead roles of this show. They are total risk takers. No holds barred, running straight into the arms of situations that would make lesser men and women recoil with shame or embarrassment. This show is gonna take some real courage and chutzpah to pull it off. I think it is gonna be awesome and this is an awesome cast! Yeah and that Jesse guy... he is a pain in the ass, but he's pretty brilliant, and he has a great vision.
I am not a stranger to change, taking risks and I seem to reinvent myself on a regular basis. But this is a little bit different than some of my previous transformations. Like many people today, I feel over burdened, my time is at a premium, I walked into rehearsal tonight hoping to make it through on auto-pilot. I put my brain on cruise control. I had not planned to do anything too daring. I hadn't planned on taking any risks... Damn it Matt Woods! You got me into this lol. Well I have no idea who this Jesse Pierce guy thinks he is. He obviously didn't get the memo who he's dealing with. This guy is a major pain in the ass... nit picking, pushing and bossing people around, who does he think he is??? Oh yeah he's the Director. Apparently he doesn't realize that I have shoes older than him and most of my fellow cast members.
OK so I had a little bit of an attitude this evening. This Jesse guy is watching me. He is not letting me coast. I am under a microscope. It was really starting to piss me off. His scrutiny pushes me to try a little harder, even if it is begrudgingly against my will. Oh my God, could he be more annoying? It occurs to me that no matter how minor, how insignificant the role, everyone involved is going to have to strip themselves down to the naked core of their role and parade around baring it all... nothing is sacred, and no one is safe.
Once I accepted this fact and forced myself to put myself out there. I committed to take a risk and throw myself into it, rather than just go through the motions and pretend to act, it got better, but still very uncomfortable and not in the least bit safe. There is just something so strange and taboo when I find myself dancing, bumping and grinding with these guys who are in their 20's (Many of my contemporaries, have kids and grandkids their ages). Then there are my female cast-mates who are also throwing themselves into the more lesbian/less heterosexual characteristics of their roles and there we find ourselves entwined as well.
I so admire so many of the men and women who have been cast in the lead roles of this show. They are total risk takers. No holds barred, running straight into the arms of situations that would make lesser men and women recoil with shame or embarrassment. This show is gonna take some real courage and chutzpah to pull it off. I think it is gonna be awesome and this is an awesome cast! Yeah and that Jesse guy... he is a pain in the ass, but he's pretty brilliant, and he has a great vision.
Friday, August 30, 2013
We're all connected...
The first time I entered 121 ½ N. Vermilion St. I was probably about 5 years old. It was the late 60’s and my ever thrifty Mother (I will refrain from using the term “cheap”) had drug me along for a visit to the Bennett Rosen Beauty School to have her weekly hairdo done by a student at a very reduced price. At the time it was considered a cutting edge learning institution of haute couture, which then inhabited the space we now call Upstage. At this point, I had no idea that at this moment in my life, this show would connect me in so many ways to this memory.
About 5 years later my family sold our farm in the country and moved to Danville, where I was immersed in the arts. Theatre and music were my escape. As I entered Danville High School I was introduced to Joe Grant, Choral Director, who became a very powerful influence in my life for the next two years. I filled my schedule with as many music classes as humanly possible, I loved having homeroom in the choir room, then Singing Vikings, Music Theory, Music Literature and lastly Contemporaires, as I despised all things academic and resented the fact that I was compelled to appear daily or face the consequences. Mr. Grant gave me an escape, even putting me to work in the choral office during those mundane boring study halls I dreaded. During which I usually found myself with my head on my desk, asleep with drool running out of the corners of my mouth. Apparently, the reason I was so tired, was because I would be out with my Mother, the musician, sitting in or singing with local bands until the wee hours of the morning. One of those bands was Freddy and the Freeloaders, Freddy happened to be Dalton Hall’s paternal grandfather, and strangely enough Dalton’s Mother Erin and another classmate Mary Handley also sang with Freddy during those years. Erin’s Dad, Bob Luke, was a very talented graphic artist who worked with my father. He and his family were frequent visitors at our farm in the early days and my Dad enjoyed working with him immensely. Back then it never occurred to me that Fred’s son George and Erin Luke would wind up together, enjoying decades of married bliss eventually gifting the world with the talented spawn, we all know as Dalton Halls.
My senior year, I was sad to discover that Mr. Grant had left DHS to pursue his doctorate at University of Illinois. I lost track of him over the years and at some point in the mid 1990’s he popped back into my mind and I felt motivated to write a letter to let him know what a positive force he had been and how much I appreciated the contribution he has made in my life. He replied in his usual humble manner and I thought OK that was cool, and figured well I am glad we were able to reconnect and moved forward with my life. I flitted around aimlessly for a few years lacking concrete direction.
When I was 19, I volunteered to work on an Indian Reservation in Arizona with my Sister through our church. This was a very interesting experience. We lived in a group home with girls who had been removed from their homes typically due to abuse or neglect. To describe their lives as tragic, would be an understatement. We were so poor; we ended up applying for commodities to receive free rice, butter and cheese. We were on the reservation in the summer desert heat, and the building we lived in was cooled by what is known as a swamp cooler, which works great except during monsoon season, which of course was upon us quickly. I remember when my sister accidentally broke a window when she tried to kill a tarantula with her shoe, and we did regular inspections for scorpions and frequently found them hiding along the baseboards. We lived on $25 worth of groceries weekly and somehow survived like that for several months until we left our volunteer post and went out and got real jobs in Phoenix. It was a rough way to live. During last night’s reading describing the poverty that our characters lived in and the abuse and conditions that shaped Mimi’s life, those memories came rushing back to me.
Eventually I returned to Danville and decided I needed to do something productive with my life. I decided to enroll in yup, you guessed it, beauty school. Still owned by the illustrious Bennett Rosen which originated at 121 ½ N. Vermilion Street, but it had recently moved south of Danville. I graduated and eventually ended up back in Arizona working for a large salon chain as a stylist and trainer. Through my involvement in theater, music and the beauty industry during the late 1970’s and 1980’s so many of my friends and co-workers were openly gay. One of my fondest memories in High School was getting ready to go to a Contemporaire’s Halloween party at Mr. Grant’s House, we all dressed in costume, I don’t recall what I wore, but my friend John decided to dress in drag, but suffered a wardrobe malfunction which required me to climb into the backseat and help him stuff himself into a pair of queen sized panty hose. In 1981 the news was filled with stories of the mystery illness that was sweeping the gay male population that was being characterized as a certain death sentence. It was with great sobriety and sadness my friends and I realized that our time together was much shorter than we thought. Somehow that sense of immortality we had before AIDS and HIV entered the picture was stolen from us. Free love came with a very expensive price tag. It cost many of my friends dearly. No one should ever die alone and my friends didn’t. That to me is the true definition of “community”. Once more I feel a connection to this show, that I still have not seen on stage.
Fast forward a few decades, and here I am, substantially older than most of you. I took a long hiatus from music and theatre to raise a family and build a business and a life for myself. A couple of years ago I was in Canada visiting family and I decided to check out the Commercial News website to see what was happening at home. Imagine my delight when I saw an article announcing auditions for “A Little Night Music” the theatrical director was Greg Williams and the music director was the one and only Mr. Joe Grant… I could not get home fast enough to get to that audition. Imagine my surprise when I landed the role of Countess Charlotte Malcolm. I finally got tell Joe Grant in person, up close and personal, how much of a difference he made in so many lives, especially my own. Through that experience I reconnected with so many old friends I hadn’t seen in years and made so many new friends I will treasure forever. I will never forget the sitzprobe. The orchestra started to play and I was moved with emotion. The music was so beautiful. There was one young man who played violin and he played with such passion. Later I ran into him at the music store where he was teaching lessons and he introduced himself as Matt Woods. I knew there was something special about him. About a month ago Matt contacted me to share his desire to audition for RENT! I enthusiastically endorsed his decision and was very excited to support him in his endeavors to act and sing (even though his violin playing moves me to tears (in a good way) and he is not allowed to ever give that up). Matt’s excitement was so contagious, I found myself wishing I could audition too. However, I know the cast is pretty much destined to be less than 30 years of age and that ship had sailed for me a long time ago. I shared these thoughts with Matt that it was unfortunate there were no parts for an “old chic” in this show and he encouraged me to audition anyway, since he didn’t think I was that old lol. I thought if nothing else, I could be there to cheer him on and soak in some of his energy and excitement. I have to say that was one of the least nerve wracking, most enjoyable auditions ever. It was a totally level playing field. No egos. Awesome!
I typically despise the first rehearsal of any show. A bunch of strangers and a few acquaintances converge into the rehearsal space. It is awkward and uncomfortable. We all sit back and size up the people in the room, judging who was cast for what role. Wondering how all the chaos will be brought into order and if we will really be able to pull it off in just a few short months. When I walked into Upstage and realized what Jesse had in store for us, I thought how positively brilliant. If you are part of a group doing hard labor, covered in sweat and filth, you better leave your ego and judgments checked at the door. It truly brought us together as a “community”; humble and purpose driven, totally uninhibited, while we cleared the dirt and clutter, free to be our true selves; lovely, but nasty, dirty and sweaty, kind of like real life. I am honored to be in this cast and can’t wait to get to know all of you better.
About 5 years later my family sold our farm in the country and moved to Danville, where I was immersed in the arts. Theatre and music were my escape. As I entered Danville High School I was introduced to Joe Grant, Choral Director, who became a very powerful influence in my life for the next two years. I filled my schedule with as many music classes as humanly possible, I loved having homeroom in the choir room, then Singing Vikings, Music Theory, Music Literature and lastly Contemporaires, as I despised all things academic and resented the fact that I was compelled to appear daily or face the consequences. Mr. Grant gave me an escape, even putting me to work in the choral office during those mundane boring study halls I dreaded. During which I usually found myself with my head on my desk, asleep with drool running out of the corners of my mouth. Apparently, the reason I was so tired, was because I would be out with my Mother, the musician, sitting in or singing with local bands until the wee hours of the morning. One of those bands was Freddy and the Freeloaders, Freddy happened to be Dalton Hall’s paternal grandfather, and strangely enough Dalton’s Mother Erin and another classmate Mary Handley also sang with Freddy during those years. Erin’s Dad, Bob Luke, was a very talented graphic artist who worked with my father. He and his family were frequent visitors at our farm in the early days and my Dad enjoyed working with him immensely. Back then it never occurred to me that Fred’s son George and Erin Luke would wind up together, enjoying decades of married bliss eventually gifting the world with the talented spawn, we all know as Dalton Halls.
My senior year, I was sad to discover that Mr. Grant had left DHS to pursue his doctorate at University of Illinois. I lost track of him over the years and at some point in the mid 1990’s he popped back into my mind and I felt motivated to write a letter to let him know what a positive force he had been and how much I appreciated the contribution he has made in my life. He replied in his usual humble manner and I thought OK that was cool, and figured well I am glad we were able to reconnect and moved forward with my life. I flitted around aimlessly for a few years lacking concrete direction.
When I was 19, I volunteered to work on an Indian Reservation in Arizona with my Sister through our church. This was a very interesting experience. We lived in a group home with girls who had been removed from their homes typically due to abuse or neglect. To describe their lives as tragic, would be an understatement. We were so poor; we ended up applying for commodities to receive free rice, butter and cheese. We were on the reservation in the summer desert heat, and the building we lived in was cooled by what is known as a swamp cooler, which works great except during monsoon season, which of course was upon us quickly. I remember when my sister accidentally broke a window when she tried to kill a tarantula with her shoe, and we did regular inspections for scorpions and frequently found them hiding along the baseboards. We lived on $25 worth of groceries weekly and somehow survived like that for several months until we left our volunteer post and went out and got real jobs in Phoenix. It was a rough way to live. During last night’s reading describing the poverty that our characters lived in and the abuse and conditions that shaped Mimi’s life, those memories came rushing back to me.
Eventually I returned to Danville and decided I needed to do something productive with my life. I decided to enroll in yup, you guessed it, beauty school. Still owned by the illustrious Bennett Rosen which originated at 121 ½ N. Vermilion Street, but it had recently moved south of Danville. I graduated and eventually ended up back in Arizona working for a large salon chain as a stylist and trainer. Through my involvement in theater, music and the beauty industry during the late 1970’s and 1980’s so many of my friends and co-workers were openly gay. One of my fondest memories in High School was getting ready to go to a Contemporaire’s Halloween party at Mr. Grant’s House, we all dressed in costume, I don’t recall what I wore, but my friend John decided to dress in drag, but suffered a wardrobe malfunction which required me to climb into the backseat and help him stuff himself into a pair of queen sized panty hose. In 1981 the news was filled with stories of the mystery illness that was sweeping the gay male population that was being characterized as a certain death sentence. It was with great sobriety and sadness my friends and I realized that our time together was much shorter than we thought. Somehow that sense of immortality we had before AIDS and HIV entered the picture was stolen from us. Free love came with a very expensive price tag. It cost many of my friends dearly. No one should ever die alone and my friends didn’t. That to me is the true definition of “community”. Once more I feel a connection to this show, that I still have not seen on stage.
Fast forward a few decades, and here I am, substantially older than most of you. I took a long hiatus from music and theatre to raise a family and build a business and a life for myself. A couple of years ago I was in Canada visiting family and I decided to check out the Commercial News website to see what was happening at home. Imagine my delight when I saw an article announcing auditions for “A Little Night Music” the theatrical director was Greg Williams and the music director was the one and only Mr. Joe Grant… I could not get home fast enough to get to that audition. Imagine my surprise when I landed the role of Countess Charlotte Malcolm. I finally got tell Joe Grant in person, up close and personal, how much of a difference he made in so many lives, especially my own. Through that experience I reconnected with so many old friends I hadn’t seen in years and made so many new friends I will treasure forever. I will never forget the sitzprobe. The orchestra started to play and I was moved with emotion. The music was so beautiful. There was one young man who played violin and he played with such passion. Later I ran into him at the music store where he was teaching lessons and he introduced himself as Matt Woods. I knew there was something special about him. About a month ago Matt contacted me to share his desire to audition for RENT! I enthusiastically endorsed his decision and was very excited to support him in his endeavors to act and sing (even though his violin playing moves me to tears (in a good way) and he is not allowed to ever give that up). Matt’s excitement was so contagious, I found myself wishing I could audition too. However, I know the cast is pretty much destined to be less than 30 years of age and that ship had sailed for me a long time ago. I shared these thoughts with Matt that it was unfortunate there were no parts for an “old chic” in this show and he encouraged me to audition anyway, since he didn’t think I was that old lol. I thought if nothing else, I could be there to cheer him on and soak in some of his energy and excitement. I have to say that was one of the least nerve wracking, most enjoyable auditions ever. It was a totally level playing field. No egos. Awesome!
I typically despise the first rehearsal of any show. A bunch of strangers and a few acquaintances converge into the rehearsal space. It is awkward and uncomfortable. We all sit back and size up the people in the room, judging who was cast for what role. Wondering how all the chaos will be brought into order and if we will really be able to pull it off in just a few short months. When I walked into Upstage and realized what Jesse had in store for us, I thought how positively brilliant. If you are part of a group doing hard labor, covered in sweat and filth, you better leave your ego and judgments checked at the door. It truly brought us together as a “community”; humble and purpose driven, totally uninhibited, while we cleared the dirt and clutter, free to be our true selves; lovely, but nasty, dirty and sweaty, kind of like real life. I am honored to be in this cast and can’t wait to get to know all of you better.
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