Rock and roll...

...is loud. And that's part of why I like it. Life is loud right now. And that's part of why I like it, too. In the last seven days, some pretty incredible stuff has happened:

One of my best friends in the whole wide world has returned to California. After a series of some-good-but-mostly-suck-ish adventures in the midwest, Jon is back in town. He drove all the way from Missouri (which I envy) and got a flat tire one and a half hours away (which I do not envy). But he is here, he is staying with me until he gets work and a place of his own, and it is grand to catch up. We have already spent countless times reliving the past and laughing our butts off about the present. Good times.

My kids and I have spent some wonderful time together. We have gone to the Russian River to splash around, and take the dog swimming. We have played board games and watched movies and had popcorn and stayed up late. Thing One came to work with me on Tuesday, and I get to see him again tonight. He is getting so mature, and growing so much--he nearly fills out his bed now, and I can still (barely) remember carrying him like a football. Thing Two is growing, too, although his heart was broken Tuesday when his pet rat passed away. (She had a giant tumor and a couple other smaller ones growing in her, so it was for the best.) He is handling it like a trooper, trying to remember the good times, but it is hard. Other than that, he is also growing like crazy and becoming his own person.

Last weekend a show I am directing opened in Santa Rosa. "Wretch Like Me" is a one-man autobiographical show about growing up into and out of Fundamental Evangelical Christianity, something close to my heart and in my own past. It is a very potent story about religion, but even more so about maturing, finding one's own voice, and how the things that often drive us into difficult situations are also the very things that give us the tools to get back out.

This week, I ran auditions for my own creation, a show called "Affairs of Face" (If you are interested, check my theater company's page for more info.) The turnout was pretty small, but the cast is small, and I am going to put some feelers out. There is still hope. And, both of these projects ("Wretch" and "Affairs") will be part of the very first Sonoma County Arts Fringe Festival this autumn. So I am VERY excited about THAT.

In all of this, I have frequently lost sleep due to fretting about things, panicking about things, and drinking waaaaaaaay too much caffeine. I have not always been my cheery self. However, throughout these adventures, my girlfriend Denise has been stalwartly at my side--supporting me, comforting me, encouraging me, giving me strength and love every step of the way. She has helped out with the show, being "on book" and taking notes for us during the rehearsal process. She has taken care of me when I needed it. And even with the busy-ness of it all, we have spent some wonderful times together.

In reflecting about everything that is going on, I really cannot complain. I am doing what I love, with the people I love, and I cannot really ask for much more than that.

Except maybe win the lottery.

Theater geekness meets pun geekness...

Back on May 20's post, I shared a clip from Bad Spellcheck Theater. That subject popped up again in a recent chat I had with Denise. One of us typed "Angles in America"--then all heck broke loose:

11:53amDavid
yes! spellcheck theater meets broadway

"CAST"--now and forever (about someone who's arm never heals)

11:54amDavid
"Less Miserable"--with a ~happy~ ending this time

"Missed Saigon"--about a draft dodger who went to Canada in the 60s

11:54amDavid
"A Chorus Lane"--about the goings-on in the alley behind the theater

"South Pacifist"--same story, but told from the Frenchman's point of view this time

I also thought of these:

"Seven Brides for Seven Mothers"--a musical romp featuring the hysterics of seven crying older women

"Sweet Chastity"--about a girl who refuses to work at the dance hall

"They're Paying Our Son"--about parents of a composer who finally gets a day job and moves out of the house

Who has more? Comment below, please...

Clip of the week...

Brilliance.



Sheer brilliance.

The supported becomes the supporter...

My friends and family have always been great supporters of mine in theater. But I have been working so long, and wanting to spend time with my kids when I have them, it has been hard to get out and see other stuff. Thursday felt like a rush to catch up.

My younger son landed the part of Jupiter in the school play (great solo, lots of fun), and his performances were on Thursday at 2pm (for his classmates) and 6:30pm (for the parents and the rest of the world). My eldest son was playing in his band for his school's open house--also on Thursday, also at 6:30pm. So, I left work early to watch and tape the two o'clock show, then ran home to change, pack and throw back a cup of soup before heading off to the open house. After watching/taping the band, Thing 1 and I toured his classrooms and hung out a bit before I left to see a friend in the Santa Rosa Junior College Jazz Ensemble.

God help me, I was a bit predisposed on this last. I shouldn't judge, but I had this preconceived notion that the group would be...well, academic. As in 'not very good.' But my friend has a huge love of music, and had a drum solo that he was very excited about in the last song of the first half of the show, so I thought I would go. Man, was I ever surprised. I got there after it started (they started at 7:30pm, so it was underway by the time I got there) and snuck in to find a seat in the dark theater. They were TIGHT. This ensemble was very, very good, and it made me wish that I could hear more than just the last two pieces in their set. But I did at least get to hear my friend play in a song called "Freefall", and he was absolutely amazing.

Last night, I went to see Denise in "A View From the Bridge", the current show at Ross Valley Players. If you don't know Arthur Miller's work, it is intense stuff. Most of his 'American Classics' are dark, struggle-against-the-tide type of shows. (Denise refers to this one in particular as a modern Greek tragedy.) To extract hope from a show like this takes work--you don't just get a smile and a toe tap, you have to understand the character's struggles, how human they are, and see it for what it is. Denise was outstanding, as was the actor playing Eddie Carbone, and a few of the supporting cast. The others seemed to be finding their feet still, and I look forward to going again later in the run to see how the child has developed. But I would still recommend the show heartily. Ticket information is here.

Since I was going to the show, I offered to drive Denise down to Ross early. I was looking forward to a bit of quiet time to myself and a burrito from a little Taqueria down there that I used to frequent. And, it was a chance for me to run an errand to visit my friends at The Mountain Play, where I did "The Wizard of Oz" last year (there are some links on my post here, if you missed out or want to have a flashback). It was great to see a couple of folks, but MAN are those people swamped right now. Their next show, "The Man of La Mancha", opens next weekend, and the sheer volume of logistics involved in putting a play up on the mountain is overwhelming. It was nice to catch up, lend some support, give some feedback, and pick up an archival copy of Oz. (Still hard to believe that was me under all that silver makeup.)

Anyway, all this supporting of the arts made me think: if someone who is a fan of sports can be called an athletic supporter, would a supporter of the arts be called a dance belt?

Sunday, Sunday, SUNDAY...

Well, I must say, with all the craziness going on in life, I had a pretty darn good weekend. (I hear you saying "about time" back there--shush, you.)

Saturday morning, I met with a friend who is writing a very exciting one-man show that he has asked me to direct. It is a challenge, very interesting, and what we in the Theatah call "important". (Meaning I think it is a story that needs to be told.) (Meaning I think people should hear it.) (Meaning I think people are ignorant, I suppose, which means I am judgmental and stuck up.) I am really excited, as I haven't had the chance/opportunity to direct in a long time, and we seem to be working together very well.

After a danish, a cappuccino, and a great discussion (see how artistic I am?), I left to pick up one of my best friends on the entire earth. We grabbed coffee and chatted about the show I'm in, which she saw last weekend. (Two coffee/danish/theater meetings in two hours? Wow, you really are artistic!) The great thing about Sandman's friendship is that she is a rare blend of artistic, opinionated, and honest, so the conversation was really good. I truly, deeply appreciate the comments and support of ALL my friends, but having someone who will tell you when your performance really sucked is a rare and valuable thing.

Afterward, we grabbed some lunch and shot a round at the local mini-golf establishment. Denise was at rehearsal for the show she is doing next, and after she was finished she joined us for another round. I won both games, but the second one only by one stroke. (I believe this was mainly due to the yellow golf ball I was given.) Denise went home, I stopped by the store to get Easter candy for Sunday's basket bacchanalia, and got a few things for the evening before dropping Sandman off at her mom's house (she lives in NYC now, and was in town for a visit). I dropped the candy off at my folks' house and went to the show.

Easter morning, I picked up the boys and we headed up to my parents' house. They have about 2 1/2 acres in the country (Windsor, CA), and it is a wonderful place to spend an Easter. (So wonderful, in fact, that the ex said 'It wouldn't be Easter if they didn't get to go to Grandma's.') We did a basket hunt (indoors) and an egg hunt (outdoors) and then had colored eggs and crudites for lunch. The kids played indoors and out for a few hours, I made a leek-artichoke-au gratin to go with my mom's ham, and we had dinner before coming back home. I went for a brief motorcycle ride (just to the gas station, but it feels so good to ride), then went for a walk with the kids and Denise and my dog and my pipe before tucking the kids in for the night.

Good lord, that was a long post. And a good one. :o)

More Blue Room press...

Okay, this should about do it. If you are tired of reading about the show, I think this is the last of it:

We had an article in The Bohemian, a local paper with some good coverage of the arts. It is by the same writer who did the radio piece, but the focus on the article is a little different. (Amazing what you can do, when you have more than two minutes. Although the article is then edited to fit, so his original words are often tweaked or left out.) Anyway, after all those parentheticals, here is the article.

There was also a piece in Theatre Bay Area Magazine. Apparently (thanks for the heads-up, Panda) we were in the "Editor's Pick" section, but I am not a member, so I don't have access to the article online. I *may* try to purchase a copy, but a transcript of that article would surely be plagiarism, wouldn't it? And I would *never* do something like that, would I?

Press for The Blue Room...

So, there has been quite a push in the press for my latest show in Santa Rosa. We have done some interviews and 'appearances' on local radio and for local print pieces. Two weeks ago we were on KSRO's morning show on Thursday, and on "Curtain Call" on KRCB on Friday. ("Curtain Call" is the performing arts talk show on the local PBS affiliate.) We did a long interview that is in a local paper this week, and are apparently the Editor's Pick in the current issue of Theater Bay Area (no links yet, sorry). And we were on another radio show this morning (KRSH--a short weekly piece called "Stage Fright").

There is another short piece on KRCB radio called "Second row, center". Yesterday's segment was on our show, as well. Here is a transcript, printed with permission of the author:

KRCB 91.1 FM – 4/8/09 at 6:35 and 8:35 a.m. – David Templeton

Times have certainly changed.

What was scandalous a century ago is not necessarily so today. As a demonstration of this, the 6th Street Playhouse, as part of this season’s daring Studio Theater series, has just opened a three-week run of David Hare’s "The Blue Room," based on a German script that was once called the filthiest play ever written.

Of course, that was 110 years ago, when playwright and author Arthur Schnitzler first penned Der Reigen. At that time, he knew the subject matter was far too scandalous to ever appear on an actual stage, so the play was only performed in private, by Schnitzler and his friends, in various German living rooms, and the script was distributed secretly among Schnitzler’s closest acquaintances. Two decades later, when he was finally persuaded to let the play open on a legitimate stage, Schnitzler’s original concerns were confirmed when the opening night show sparked a huge riot in the theater, and the writer was immediately arrested and branded a pornographer, charges that were later dismissed by a German court, but not before Schnitzler decided once and for all to withdraw the play from the public—in Germany. At the same time, the play was building a strong, appreciative following in Russia and Czechoslovakia, and most importantly in France, where the play appeared under the title La Ronde. Today, it’s hard to believe that Schnitzler’s original text, in which ten people bed-hop through a series of partner-swapping assignations, was ever the stuff of riots and obscenity trials. Ten year’s ago, when playwright David Hare wrote his own adaptation of Der Reinen—changing its title to ‘The Blue Room’—there were no public outcries, no riots in the lobby, except for the rowdy lines of people desperate to buy tickets to see Nicole Kidman—one of the London and Broadway production’s stars—in a much talked-about nude scene. Even the full-frontal cartwheels of her co-star Ian Glen weren’t seen as scandalous and obscene so much as just another reason to buy a ticket.

So, times have certainly changed.

And yet, it’s still a bold move for a theater company to tackle a play like ‘The Blue Room,’ as 6th Street Playhouse is doing right now. Under the direction of David Lear, actors David Yen and Denise Elia are playing out the ten-character daisy-chain of sexual encounters three times a weekend, and initial word is that Yen and Elia give brave, thoughtful performances in a show that, counter to the claims of those critics who saw the original Der Reigen, is not a play about sex so much as it is a play about human beings desperate to feel a connection with another person—no matter how tentative, shallow, or brief. 6th Street Playhouse is to be congratulated for scheduling a show that continues the all-important, age-old theatrical tradition of telling stories that just might cause riot, of one kind or another.

The Blue Room runs Friday, Saturday and Sunday through April 26 at the 6th Street Playhouse, that’s 52 W. 6th Street, in Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square. Showtimes are Friday and Saturday at 8:00, and Sunday at 2:00 p.m. Tickets run from $14-$20. Call 707-523-4185 or visit 6th street playhouse.com—that’s with a numeral 6.

Listen again next Wednesday morning at 6:35 and 8:35 for more news about Bay Area Theater.

I’m David Templeton, Second Row Center, for KRCB

Opening weekend...

The kids are in bed, my stomach is full, and I am moderately content. I spent yesterday fighting back the front lawn, which had gone waaaaaaaay too long without a shave. How long? My father saw it on Thing 2's birthday and commented 'your neighbors are going to kick you out of the neighborhood.' My dog would run through the grass, and I would lose sight of her. I felt like Allan Quatermain, hacking through some tropical locale with a machete.

Today I played around in the back yard, swept the patio off and set out the outside furniture in a way I thought might be appealing. And I actually sat on one of the chairs with a Sunset magazine (one of my favorite publications in the whole wide world) and dreamt of other things I might do to/with the garden areas whilst sipping my morning coffee. (Yeah, the Manhunter's comment hit home a bit, thank you very much.)

The big news, though, is the show, of course. The Blue Room opened this weekend, and I was pleased with my performance, overall. The show is a real challenge, artcraft-wise. There are two actors playing five characters each in ten scenes (get a math tutor if you need help figuring that out). The play is about how we, as people, are--the things we crave, the way we modify our behavior based on who we're with, and the mistakes we make. I hate to use the word "real", especially in this context, as it is overused and therefore undervalued (like the word "awesome" has become). But the show is especially interesting in that, instead of external obstacles like an antagonist or some time deadline, the barriers these characters face are primarily internal. It makes for quite a challenge, overall.

We opened this weekend opposite a huge commotion in the mainstage theater--there was a benefit with a big name actor doing a one-man show. But we still had reasonably seated houses, and a GREAT audience today. This was a particularly nice surprise, since the Sunday matinees are usually an older, quieter crowd. But for whatever reason--Denise thinks it may be because the show is so real and they have all "been there"--this was the liveliest house we had all weekend. They were ooing and ahing and commenting all throughout--it was fascinating.

I had a wonderful evening with my sons, eating and watching Shrek, which we hadn't seen in so long we forgot all the subplots. (If you have kids, you know the wonderful, refreshing feeling that comes from that--instead of watching the same movies over and over again.) Now I'm going to take a gander at Saving Private Ryan, which just came on, do some laundry during the commercials, and fricken relax.

On the cusp...

Tonight is the one and only preview of the show I am currently in. The description reads:

The Blue Room

Written by David Hare

Directed by David Lear

A sensation in London and on Broadway, The Blue Room depicts a daisy chain of ten sexual encounters between five women and five men all portrayed by one actor and one actress. Each couple is seen working their way up to having sex. It is following a blackout that the hypocrisy, the folly and loneliness become apparent. Hare, freely adapting the original play, LaRonde by Arthur Schnitzler, has moved the action from turn of the century Vienna to modern London and infused the sketches with witty and provocative modern nuances.

All my professional life, from working as a paper boy to being in the army, from working in an office to performing on a stage, I have tried to put my best into what I do. There is nothing more frustrating, I believe, than wanting to do something well, and not being able to because of some external circumstance. When I was managing a Starbucks store, I also tried to convey to my staff that I wanted them to have everything they needed to succeed.

This production has been, unfortunately, plagued with behind-the-scenes drama. Not from the creative team, so much--my director is someone I deeply respect and admire, and my co-star is my girlfriend, who I also deeply respect and admire. But the production has no costumer, a very pared-down production budget, and has had a myriad of other challenges along the way. It has been distracting, and difficult, to continue "on with the show" in the face of some of it. But nevertheless, I am tackling the challenge and doing my best to learn from it all.

If you are considering coming to see the show, I should warn you that "The Blue Room features adult situations and nudity and is recommended for mature audiences only." The show runs the month of April--Friday-Saturday nights at 8:00pm, and Sundays at 2:00pm (no show on Easter Sunday). Ticket information is available by following the link above.

Making the Edges Ragged, (Pt. 1 of 3)…

My show, The SantaLand Diaries, was more successful than we ever dreamed or hoped.

Back in October, I got an IM via Facebook from a friend I had worked with before--in fact, he was the director of this very same show when I did it three years ago. In that production, there were three of us (instead of the single actor as in the original play). He sent me a message that said, ‘I have a crazy idea. Have you checked your e-mail?’ I checked it. In his message, he was proposing that the two of us put the show up--he would direct, I would be the sole actor, and we would co-produce. I told him that I had had the same crazy idea just a couple weeks prior, and suddenly the game was afoot.

We ended up getting a cool space in downtown Santa Rosa through the Arts District. We also got sweet deals on lighting, sound, and help from another director I think the world of for our flats and blacks for the set. We got an amazing hand from an event coordinator here in town, who helped us design the house and set, and build it all, as well as house manage on performance nights.

On top of all that, we suddenly got an e-mail in November from someone in San Francisco who was producing the very same show. It seems this gentleman had produced the show in the city for six years (this was his seventh). It was a tradition, a mainstay, and they sell out every year. Since the venue they were having the show in this season had two stages, he had the crazy idea to get another production running at the same time. Would we be interested in just bringing our show down? He would provide the lights, sound, PR, everything. We negotiated a bit before backing out--the hassle of going down to the city to do a show when both my partner and I were single dads (me permanent, he temporary) in the middle of holiday when we wanted to spend time with our kids was just too much. Also, my partner pointed out that the way things were going, we could probably extend one weekend and make what we would have made in SFO in two weekends, and with much less hassle. We did extend, and we did very well.

As a consequence, however, I did not get to experience quite as much holiday wonder as I had hoped (one of my best friends in the world calls me “Captain Christmas” from November till New Year’s). But the extra weekend made it possible to take my boys to Disneyland, which was my dream for them since June. Unfortunately, it also meant that I was exhausted going in to Christmas...

to be continued...

SantaLand Diaries...

So, as you might surmise from yesterday's quote (not to mention a month's worth of only clip-of-the-week posts), I have been a mite bit busy lately. In addition to the aftermath of the election season, I have finalized the divorce, undergone a huge shift in work, switched through three holidays, and have been memorizing 25 pages of dialog for a one-man show.

The show, David Sedaris' SantaLand Diaries, opens tonight. (Click the link to go to NPR's page--SLD is on the list of available streaming audio.)

In addition to the work of an actor, I have also been working overtime on promotional stuff as well. (There are only two of us producing this baby.) I have been interviewed on the radio twice, helped set up a website (crazyelves.com) and helped spread the word. The local paper had a huge spread on the show a couple weeks back--they had me featured on the front cover of the Arts section in Sunday's paper. We also shot a Vblog about the show that is rather cute--here 'tis, for your edification and possible enjoyment:

(original blog can be found here.)

A special thanks/shout to Cara, who has been undergoing the same dry spell as I have, apparently. I checked her blog recently and was inspired to get off my (writing) ass and post something for you, so you didn't think I had just fallen into a hole. If you are free this weekend or the next, you can click here for tickets.

"...aaaaaaaand Scene"...

It is finished. The Music Man closed yesterday after an incredible five week run, with a whopping total of four previews and twenty-three shows. We got rave reviews, standing audiences, and great feedback about the production. However, as with any production, the closing is bittersweet.

There is a very common phenomenon in the theater world--great sadness settles in after the close of a show. Part of it is a feeling akin to moving to another town. After weeks together with the cast sharing emotions, being in cramped spaces and enduring high stress situations, suddenly they are leaving, and you are leaving. You are not sure when you are going to see the other members of the production again, and that hurts.

The other, deeper part is the leaving behind of someone that you will never see again. In creating a character, you infuse it with substance--real substance you construct primarily on your own. When the show closes, that character is gone forever. It is like losing a child, in many ways. Someone asked the other day, 'what if you did the show again--wouldn't you see that character another time?' My response was that (a) the likelihood of me playing this role ever again is somewhere between incredibly rare and never, and (b) even if I did do it again, it would be a different Harold Hill--sure some elements might be the same, but too many things would be different about me. My life would be in a different chapter, as would the lives of the director and the cast of the new production.

I updated my Facebook status last night to "David is saying goodbye to Professor Harold Hill, and bidding River City, Iowa a very fond adieu." For some reason, the closing of this show has hit me harder than any before. Perhaps it is because, for the first time in nearly 18 months, I don't have a project immediately starting up--hence, no creative process to distract me from the loss. Perhaps it is because I worked so hard personally on this show, doing so much character creation on my own, and infusing so much of myself into it. Perhaps it is because of the nature of the production, the many unique aspects of it, that I will likely not experience again (including getting to work on stage with both my sons).

In any case, it is tough to say goodbye to the world we created. I will miss it.

A very special thank you to all of you who came to the show, and to those of you who sent your support in other ways.

"River City, population 2,212"...

...and it seems like most of them are coming to see me. Tonight is one of the last performances of The Music Man, Meredith Willson's labor of love. The musical is at the Sixth Street Playhouse, and we've been sold out for a few weekends now. You could always come and try to get wait listed in--there are always a couple of seats that cancel at the last second--but if you haven't seen it yet, don't break your neck.

This is just a personal thing--every actor, it seems, is different--but I don't usually get nervous as a stage performer. When I was in the army, an NCO I worked with was fond of reminding us that "you fight how you train". I trust the rehearsal process intrinsically--things the director or choreographer have asked me to do; the practice I have put into the show in rehearsals; the countless time I have spent on my own, running lines in my car while driving and dancing around in my house--if I rehearse it enough, I retain it for performance.

I also have tons of little things I do, as an actor, to prepare for a show. I stretch and warm up physically and vocally for about 45 minutes before every show. I have certain ways of doing things that help me get prepared mentally. I do make up, mic check, get dressed, check my props--you would think I was a professional athlete from the many little routines I do to get ready. Once the music starts, I have a whole other set of routines. I come off stage a certain way, make the transition mentally, physically and emotionally from character to actor, get ready for the next scene, and reverse the process. I am constantly in motion, every particle spinning relentlessly until I get out of costume after a show and leave it all behind for the night. These things usually chase away any sort of butterflies. I trust my brain, body and spirit to make it all happen, based on things I have done and continually do to make my performance a personal achievement.

Tonight, however, ten percent of the house is coming specifically to see me. My parents, my aunt and uncle (coming up 500+ miles to see the show), my boss and his wife and their tenant, friends from work, and friends from other parts of my life all make up a group of about twenty people. On any given night, I wouldn't worry--there are always mistakes, little hiccups in theater. It's what I love about it, and why I prefer it to acting in front of a camera. But having everyone come all at once makes it a little nerve-wracking.

Hope it's a good show.

The Show goes on...

Well, it was another weekend of rousing response to the show, "The Music Man". Houses stood up for us again this weekend, all but one of the five shows. And I feel it is really hitting its stride--people are getting into their characters, having more fun with it, and telling the story.

Now, to quote a character in the show, I am "reticent" about reviews. A dear friend and fellow actor told me once he didn't think much of them because the reviewer could have come on a night that his performance sucked, and then he would be immortalized as stinking up the stage. Conversely, if he really knocked it out of the park, it was still just a review of a single snapshot of a performance run, and therefore not a fair indication of the storytelling. I would agree on most of those points.

I personally don't like them because in 90% of the cases (around here, anyway) the reviewers never actually review the show. They spend time summarizing the show, which I despise--I learned in 9th grade English class that summarizing is not critical analysis. They spend time kissing the proverbial buttocks of the theater company in question. But they rarely say anything about the actors. I would rather appreciate critical feedback as opposed to silence, to be honest.

Those caveats firmly in place (let the reader beware?), here's some local coverage of the show:

one

two

three

Now that your brain has been washed and dried, come and be your own judge. It is a rare chance to see all three of us Yen boys on stage together, if nothing else. If you are planning on coming to see it, you should hurry. We do have three more weekends, but houses have been sold out consistently. Here's the ticket link, just in case you're too lazy to scroll down. ;o)

Opening weekend...

Well, The Music Man is officially up and running.

It has been an arduous rehearsal process, to be sure. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, the last week before opening is referred to lovingly as "Hell Week". It is during that time that the final tech stuff (lights, sound, moving set pieces, costumes, etc.) gets combined with the performance stuff to make an actual show. It can be frustrating, and start-stop, and tends to make everyone involved edgy and miserable. In keeping with this theme, we were held late by over 45 minutes at least three of the nights, which in combination with other stuff did not make for happy campers come go time on Sunday for the final dress rehearsal.

There is a saying that goes that "you always wish you had two more weeks of rehearsal." In this case, I fully embraced that philosophy. I have never felt more nervous and unprepared than I did for this show. So much of our rehearsal time was spent in blocking, music, and dance (and we could have spent more) that we never really got to the "acting" rehearsals. A lot of it was left to us, and while that is interesting and challenging, and I felt trusted as an actor, I also felt VERY on edge as we approached audiences last Monday night.

In addition to all that, we are not working with a live orchestra--it is 'computer generated' music, and as big a drag as that sounds artistically, it is nothing compared to the technological nightmare it is logistically. We were supposed to receive work CDs of the music three weeks before open, but the software and hardware didn't even arrive until two weeks out. There were things to be ironed out, fixed and tweaked, and needless to say we got our CDs four days before our previews started. Then, on the second night of previews, the system just would not boot up, so we had to go from the CD, which was at completely different sound levels, so the Wiz was scrambling to make it all work. He did a wonderful job, all things considered, but hoo boy.

All that aside, however, we opened last weekend to two standing ovations out of three performances (we also got one on the preview the night before opening). So somebody likes it. :o) Here's a clip of one of the numbers (I am the one in the red jacket and black pants):



Come see it! Tickets are available here.

Are you easily fooled? Take a try at this one...

So, I'm playing Prof. Harold Hill in The Music Man (opens tomorrow, click here for more info). He is the classic swindler/con man type: smooth, slick, charming--and very selfish. He smiles and jokes and charms his way into everyone in town's pockets, until...well, either you know the story, or you don't. I'm not about to print spoilers of my own show here, for pity's sake.

Anyway, being an actor who loves people watching, I am naturally very interested in the subtleties of human nature and expression. I recently stumbled over something I found very challenging and educational. It is on the BBC page about human workings and psychological stuffs. Take the Genuine Smile Test to see if you can tell who is really smiling, and who is faking it. I got 16 out of 20, and learned a bunch of really interesting stuff at the end, to boot.

Now, off to practice my deception a little more in front of the mirror. ;o)

New projects for old! New projects...

Last fall, Skate and I decided that we should start a theater company. Wipe that smirk off your face and know that we were shoved into it headfirst by Fate, or else neither of us would have ever stopped laughing long enough to actually try it. We were talking about the things we would love to do or see done theater-wise, and someone (I forget which of us--there was beer involved) said, 'we should just start our own theater company'. To which both of us laughed out loud.

See, for those of you who aren't in that crazy little industry, this is an incredibly common occurrence. It shakes out like this: some actors, fed up with their current group of folks because of artistic stagnation or personality conflict, decide They Can Do Better, and they start their own company. Things are usually fine for about a year, then they can either go one of two paths: they crash because of personality conflict or mismanagement, or they succeed and move up to the next tier in the food chain.

We figured, with her pending Master's degree in Arts Management and my experience managing teams, that we might be able to avoid that death knell. Her desire to do something worthwhile and inspiring, and my overactive manic-depressive imagination both seemed to lend themselves to the artistic side of the endeavor. And the stuff we wanted to do didn't fit with any of the local theater companies, so we didn't think ourselves too proud and conflictatory (new word for you there, W) in our dream, either.

We pulled the trigger, and here we are. Last night found us meeting with a group of actors from the area to discuss a crazy new project we are spearheading for the fall. I will keep you updated, but let me just say it was a great meeting, very insightful, very exciting, and I have the Utmost Confidence in the Mission. Stay tuned...

Art and technology...

So, today I spent three hours working on the truck. I checked all the fluids, changed the air filter, fixed the headlamp, all that sort of stuff. I purchased my own TFI--the aforementioned ignition module that I am certain is the cause of my won't-start-in-the-heat woes--as well as a special tool to swap it out, and some silicon gel to affix it to its home on the distributor. But I decided to just wait and see if something else might have been the problem (the oil was pretty low--I have a leak, and didn't realize it was getting so low). It started just fine at noon. Of course, it wasn't as hot today, either, so I figured I would just keep the TFI with the vehicle, and let the old one fail. When next it refuses to start, I'll swap it then. It will be much easier with the little tool.

Had some miscommunication with the ex about where the kids were getting transferred--she thought she was picking them up, I was at her house waiting for her to get them--and was late to see Rabbit Hole over at The Rep. What a fantastic show. I was called back for the male role in it, so I was familiar with the story, and it was a good thing. It was an excellent story, and very well told and acted, but it was hard subject matter. A married couple is toughing through things after losing their four year old son in an auto accident. But et. al. did a fine job, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Didn't get to hang out afterward, because I needed to check on the Things, but it was good work.

Had rehearsal in the evening, went home and collapsed. Thoroughly tired from a full day.

All abooaarrt! River City next stop...

Last night was the initial read-thru for Sixth Street Playhouse's production of The Music Man, starring yours truly as Prof. Harold Hill. It was a blast. The show is great, it is one of the top five on my want-to-do list, and the music is wonderful. But perhaps the best part was the reunion with many actors I have not worked with in years.

It was almost a joy overload--the guy who directed me in Forum and Charity will be one of the quartet, as well as a guy I was in The Mikado with. Speaking of Charity, the actress who was Charity in that production is working in this show. The actor who played Erronius in Forum is Charlie (the anvil salesman). Several women I haven't seen in years will be the pick-a-little ladies. I haven't worked with this director, choreographer, stage manager, or asst. stage manager in years, either.

In addition, there are several faces new to me that I have heard plenty about. And some that are familiar but I have not worked with in the past. It is an exciting project. Once the kids get added in, it is going to be utter chaos, but what a fun show this looks to be. Come see it--it goes up in mid August and runs through mid September.

What a wonderful weekend this will be...

So, today I am going to the Northern California Pirate Festival in Vallejo. It is similar to a Ren Faire, and a lot of the same folks I know from there will be at the Pirate Fest--including the group I perform with at Dickens Faire in December. (They are called the Green Man Inn at Ren Faire; The Green Man Publick House at Dickens.) Should be an absolute blast. I was up late last night with the boys putting together our last-minute costumes, and we will be going with Helene for a few hours today. It is so much fun having the Green Man folks there--gives one a home-base of sorts.

Then, tonight I am seeing Nine Parts of Desire at the Sixth Street Playhouse studio space. Helene is performing a one-woman show about nine Iraqi women and their stories during the Saddam/US era. It is intense and amazing--I saw it opening night, and am eager to see how it has grown over the course of the run.

Tomorrow is the closing of The Wizard of Oz at the Mountain Play. I am frequently asked as I get closer to the end of a run if it is a 'bittersweet' moment for me. This one is just plain surreal. It has been such a wonderful, unique, special experience, that it is hard to find any words to describe it. The commute is brutal, certes--I will not miss that. But even that has its moments--coming out of the clouds in the forest near Muir Woods on an overcast day and seeing the entire bay area spread out before you as if someone had pulled a comforter over it is an amazing thing.

It is a magical show, on par with A Christmas Carol for its universal appeal. It is at its heart a story about finding contentment--and finding it in what you already have, not somewhere greener. It is a story about using your heart, brains, and courage to overcome incredible odds. It is a story about finding friends in strange places, and acceptance. And the feeling you get when you have 3700 people booing the villain, cheering for the good guys, and chanting along with you ("lions and tigers and bears, OH MY!") is something else.

Is it bittersweet? It is surreal--I look at pictures of me, and at some memorabilia I got for the opening, and I think 'that's not me--that's a movie'. The people have been amazing. The work has been professional-grade. It has been wonderful and I will miss it. Come see it tomorrow if you can.