More Old Hickory

I guess since this blog started as a way to keep a diary of Old Hickory, it's only fitting that now that I have a rockin' promo piece for the show that I should share that as well. It's a really great poster/postcard created by Richard Quinn with my input on some minor areas. I could not be happier!

What I used before was stuff I put together without really good production tools . . . and this is off the charts!

2011 recap

Well let's just say it was an interesting year. Started off excited about 'Old Hickory' at Arts on the Lake with Blue Horse Rep and then my mother dying put that on hold. It was ultimately rescheduled for Halloween weekend, and then that got put on hold because of renovations at the theater. It may end up happening in 2012 . . . I'm happy to do it whenever we can.

Of course, not doing OH on Halloween meant I was available to do the Poe readings in Nyack, which was a huge treat. I got to read the Raven and found layers and layers in there, a real acting exercise . . . and I met and ultimately conspired with Richard Quinn who runs the Nyack Village Theater, where 'Old Hickory' will go up in February! Awesome!

Also, had a nice couple of readings of 'Like a Sack of Potatoes', first in the city as part of Woodstock Fringe's Voices of the Fringe, then at the Fringe Festival in Woodstock in August. It was well received both times (hoping to perform it this spring as part of One Man Talking, more on that when I know for sure).

This past spring also had me walking the tightrope with my solo piece 'The Red Hand of O'Neill' at One Man Talking. It was a real stretch but acting isn't acting if there isn't an element of danger to it, and this was way out of my comfort zone, so I attacked it and pretty much nailed it. I don't know if I'll ever perform this one again, but I don't think I could improve on it if I did. (of course if anyone asked me to do it I wouldn't hesitate to say 'hell yes').

In case you think solo pieces are all I'm about: I revved up Dead Authors again and it's a finalist for a competition in NYC at Terry Schreiber Studios; should know about that practically any day now . . . I took the play into the Fringe workshop this fall and heard it read for the first time in years . . . it was a great exercise because it made me look at the piece with fresh eyes and I made some changes, some of which were really hard to do . . . but it's a better play for the changes I think, or I wouldn't have made them.

I also entered several of my other plays in competitions, but they won't announce results until later in the spring.

All in all a pretty exciting year from the theater end of things. And not just my own! Seeing the Berliner Ensemble doing Threepenny was exciting and ending the year with John Hurt doing Beckett's Krapp's Last Tape were great reminders of what we want to be in theater for.

Didn't see much Broadway, though I have to say Mark Rylance in Jerusalem was special (and bumping into my old teacher Ed Morehouse at the show was a major treat!).

A lot to look forward to in the coming year . . . but I think that's a separate post . . . this one is a look back. It's all a work in progress. I guess that's how plays (and a body of work) mirror life . . . they continue to change and grow and they will never be 'finished' until I am . . . so more life to my plays and life and health to all of you . . . amazing to be part of it all!

Gonna have to write something someday

Lots of distractions right now, so I haven't been all that productive from a writing perspective. But that doesn't stop the voices in my head, the ideas that come out of nowhere (some lost forever because I don't write them down), the constant simmering of stuff I've been working on . . . it all adds up to something and I trust that when the time is right I'll get on with it. I do have three solo pieces I'm working on right now at various stages, though one of them has kind of made the cut for most likely to proceed. I also have been bapping around ideas for a full length . . . and there will come the great nearly audible click when something makes it all fall into place.

And what is so distracting you might ask? Well, since this blog is about my playwright/actor life I won't go into work and family emergencies and such, but there is that. I have been using time that might have been for writing to work on my lines for the soon to come performances of Old Hickory at the Nyack Village Theatre (in Feb. more on that later), and there is the pending notification of at least three things: 1) One Man Talking (which of course will mean learning a new script etc); 2) the New Works Project at Terry Schreiber where my play Dead Authors is a finalist and 3) I just found out yesterday that they plan to announce the finalists on January 20th for the Jewish Play competition. I entered Words of Fire, my Emma Goldman play. I happen to think it has a lot of potential as a play and is topical politically in the extreme . . . and of course, a lot of the characters are Russian Jews . . . but if they are looking for plays about contemporary Jewish life . . . Words won't get it. We shall see. They got a hundred and seventy some entries . . . I'd say Bubbie's blintzes will win out over anarchists plotting to kill Henry Clay Frick any day . . . unless . . .

So other than that nothing's cooking . . . pretty exciting stuff!

Adventures at BAM, Part 4: A truly grand finale!

The expectation I had for the performance of 'Krapp's Last Tape' with John Hurt, was very high; not least because the production comes from the Gate Theater in Ireland, where the Beckett festival started that I was privileged to experience part of at Lincoln Center a few years back (Godot and Happy Days), and the director also directed Ralphe Fiennes in 'First Love', a Beckett solo piece adapted from his fiction, also at Lincoln Center (and which blew me away)it all added up to much promise . . . almost impossibly high promise.

But it was equal to all my expectations. It was beautifully directed and acted. And it's funny about Beckett, to me anyway, when I see a successful production of his work it's almost like he's in the room with me. I guess you can say that he truly is, through his words, but his work is so deeply meaningful and visceral that it really is alive . . . and so is he. There's some kind of directness to it . . . no melodrama, no bullshit . . . just real, direct communication.

I had never seen John Hurt on stage before, but he was perfect as Krapp. Bette wasn't that enthralled with the Krapp he did as presented as part of the 'Beckett on film' set, but she was the first one out of her seat when the lights came up for the ovation . . . he had just the right balance of playfull and resignation (I almost wrote despair, but I don't think Beckett is about despair really, I think it's more like looking into the abyss, saying 'Oh, really, now what?' and then going on because what are the options?)

In the case of Krapp, the option is celebrating his birthday by listening to tapes he made from previous birthdays; and his reaction to the person he was back then . . . underneath it all, currents of lost love, regrets and reflections on life, with wordplay and humor . . . and the most beautiful writing Beckett ever did, at least in a play. It's a gorgeous play and the production at BAM brought that home . . . the last moment when Krapp is sitting alone in the light and says: 'Perhaps my best years are gone . . . but I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire that's in me now. No I wouldn't want them back.' is a shattering moment in its simplicity, he says the words and he shows nothing to betray that they aren't true . . . but somehow, you know that he would take them back in a heartbeat . . . if only he could.

A recap

Maybe I'll start doing weekly recaps for weeks when I don't get around to blogging much, just to keep things current. Some cool stuff this week, most especially attending a Solo writer/performer and director exchange at the Dramatists Guild. It was a nice event and broadened the pool of contacts a bit perhaps if nothing else. Saw the director of Bette's piece from the Estrogenius Festival a few years back, Elena Araoz. The writers essentially got to present an excerpt of a piece and the directors got to hold forth on their modus operandi. It was good just to be in a roomful of people who work in and love theater.

I sent an email the next day, offering the script to anyone who would like to read it and got one bite from Thom Fogerty. Seems to be a nice guy on a similar wavelength; anyone who quotes Stew in email signature is ok with me.

It's getting to be time to get a bit more serious about Old Hickory . . . Feb will be here before you know it! I'm excited for what 2012 is going to bring, lots of potential in so many areas . . . acting, writing and the accursed but not hated: work.

Just read the NY Times review of Krapp's Last Tape. Really good one, we're seeing it next Friday . . . can't wait. Charles Isherwood wrote it and it was one of the best written reviews I can remember . . . hard to believe John Hurt has never been on stage in NYC before!

Solo networking

Found out on Friday that I am accepted for the Solo writer/performer-Director networking event at the Dramatists Guild. Nice opportunity but I'm not sure for what. I don't really feel like I need a director since I have one for Old Hickory (Wallace) and I've spoken to Bette regarding Lika a Sack of Potatoes (in the event Wallace can't/won't or I don't feel like driving in that much). On the other hand, it seems like one of those things where it never hurts to put it out there and see what happens . . . increase the size of the circle kind of. Should be fun though and I'm looking forward to it. Fifteen performers and fifteen directors. We all get to read two pages of a piece.

Saw a reading yesterday of my friend Angelo Parra's new piece about Kurt Weil and Lotte Lenya. Nice work. Well read by the actors too. They were interesting people and of course the hooked is that they lived in Rockland county.

Oh, and a slight correction from my last post: I said I had two piece I have to choose from, in actuality it's four . . . but whose counting?

Adventures in OMT, Part 3

Sent the application materials to the One Man Talking festival yesterday. This festival has changed my life, that's for sure. It has given me the confidence to keep working on solo material. Two years ago when I applied with Old Hickory I had no idea where that would take me. Working with Wallace led to the Woodstock Fringe performances, which lead to the performances at Arts on the Lake (hopefully this spring some time) and also to this blog, which I started to track Old Hickory's progress!

Last year, with 'The Red Hand of O'Neill', I upped the ante a tad. That one was so far out of my comfort zone it ain't even funny . . . which is one reason I had to do it of course. My only regret with that one was that I didn't work hard enough to build audience because I had no idea it would go so well . . . I kind of kept it under the radar and then wouldn't you know it: I hit it out of the park! Well . . . that one was for me . . . and the ten or twenty people who saw it.

This year, it's back to my hillbilly gothic roots with 'Like a Sack of Potatoes'. This one has the advantage of having been read in Woodstock last summer, and that basically was a performance with script in hand. And it went very very well . . . people responded beautifully and I'm ready to rock with it. Of course, it has to be accepted, but since last year I mentioned Bette maybe doing something and Scott Klavan said just have her put a note about being referred by you . . . so my guess is as long as I want to participate they will let me. Awesome opportunity.

So now I have one more distraction from writing . . . learning the lines. But there is time . . . so I should probably get off my ass and work on whichever of the two solo pieces are drawing me in right now . . . I have to look at them both and see which appeals . . . we'll see. I want to have whichever one ready for the Woodstock Fringe reading series in spring. And obviously, more on that later.

I did get a response from the Downtown Urban Theatre Festival and since this is tagged on to the end of a posting you can probably guess that it wasn't in my favor! Didn't really expect much from that one . . . one thing my stuff ain't is urban!

Leave it to Vonnegut

So I'm reading the NY Times Book Review today, and there is a review of a new biography of Vonnegut. In that review they quoted him: "The trick is to write as much as you know as quickly as possible."

BOOM!

Floored by Vonnegut. Again. He had a way of doing that to me: out of nowhere, the truth. Simple and clear.

Now why you may ask has that particular quote resonated so? Well . . . I've been remiss lately in the writing department . . . I have multiple projects that I'd like to work on . . . but it's that awful prospect of sitting down and doing the work . . . that's the killer. Once you get out of the flow it is one big bad bitch to get back in and there are a million and one reasons for not doing it . . . work/play/dog/movies/plays/it's-too-damn-pretty-outside . . . you name it. But eventually you shame yourself into getting back to it, overcoming the fear of failure (another quote by another favorite: Fail again. Fail better.) and away you go . . . but sometimes that kick in the gas can be a long time coming . . . when will we learn that every day frittered away is a day you don't get back?

At least with the solo work I have a reasonable expectation of getting it up in front of people with the One Man Talking Festival; and the Woodstock Fringe Festival has been very nice to me in the last couple of years, a consistent safe and loving artistic home (can anyone ask for more?). So that takes the 'no one is gonna ever see this anyway so why bother' out of the equation.

So what is stopping me?

Me.

Well . . . sometimes it takes a Vonnegut to slap you up side the head: the trick is to write as much as you know as quickly as possible.

And so it goes.

Sometimes it clicks . . .

I was looking at one of the solo pieces I had put on a shelf for a while this morning with an eye toward working in a twisty little idea I had for it a couple of weeks ago. I believe that I posted something this when it happened; about waking up with something in my head that was intended for another play, but then it became clear to me as I was working on it that maybe this was a good fit for the solo bit.

At any rate, this morning I was reading over the first draft of the piece (untitled as yet) with an eye toward where it might lead vis a vis the twist I have in mind . . . and sure enough . . . there are many clues that what happened to him in his youth could lead toward some kind of misdeeds later in life . . . it's there and I didn't know it . . . that happens sometimes, the wheels have to turn for a while before the gears click into place, but once they do it can be a beautiful thing.

It's too early to tell whether this will be what I'm thinking it might be; but I absolutely think there is potential . . .

Adventures at BAM Part III: Malkovich in 'The Infernal Comedy'

Our third foray into this season's Next Wave Festival at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, was, as always, a great time and, as they often are, provocative. This time around it was for John Malkovich, which was one of the two main reasons for engaging in this in the first place (though truth to tell, John Hurt in 'Krapp's Last Tape' which we are seeing next, is one I'm looking forward to as well.)

I had never seen Malkovich on stage so was excited about the prospect; I love his intensity, and he seems to me to be a very intelligent and daring actor(Bette had seen him in Death of a Salesman and she still talks about how mindblowing that was). Well this piece was daring, but for different reasons. The idea of Malkovich doing a not-quite-solo piece about a serial killer (true story as well) seemed like an inviting proposition. And he was all the things you would expect, charming, funny, and with moments of real tenderness that were nearly as surprising as the sudden moments of violence that erupted.

Now,this was performed at BAM's opera house (where we had previously seen Threepenny Opera)and I can imagine that if you were up in the second balcony some of the nuance of Malkovich's performance would have been totally lost . . . his performance needed a more intimate space . . . but there was a reason why that could not be: there was a thirty piece orchestra on stage, and two opera singers who sang arias that were intended to coincide with the story somehow. The orchestra was great, playing vintage instruments, and a real treat. For all I know the singers were great as well, but a little aria goes a long way with me, and some of these arias went waaay beyond my threshold . . . the ladies were meant to evoke characters Malkovich spoke about: his mother (one of the more startling images was of Malkovich with his ear to her stomach listening to his pre-natal heartbeat and his hand on both his heart and hers as she sang ... oh and did I mention we were in seats in the first row stage right about five feet from where this was happening!) When he strangled one he ladies of with her brassiere (the modus operandi for the guy he was playing) I was sort of hoping that was the end of her singing for the evening! Of the one hour and 45 minute performance at least half was music; but in only one or two cases was it interminable).

I made a choice early on to ignore the supertitles and watch Malkovich's reaction as the girls sang and he sat there listening very actively. It was great to be so close and to really watch his face as he interacted with the other characters, his focus and intensity were what you would expect, but the piece didn't serve him all that well. BUT it was another case of an artist making choices, difficult choices, unexpected choices, and how can you not applaud that? He could have a great career doing lame movies (with some good ones in there to be sure) or safe plays and make a gillion dollars, but he has chosen to go out on a limb and do something for the art of it . . . if only more people of his stature would do that . . . but of course, there are very few of his stature. I applaud him for that, and it was a very unique evening of theater.

A sidebar: in a Charlie Rose interview broadcast this week and available on CR's web site, Malkovich was asked about the cliche that 'the camera never lies'. Malkovich countered that of course the camera lies, that is the whole point, stage is where the truth resides because, to paraphrase Malkovich, "how can you lie on stage?"

Damn! I love theater!

Rewrites

Started working on Dead Authors with an eye toward smoothing out some rough spots before sending it to the Terry Schreiber folks. Not major excavation, just some touch up stuff.

Bette had long said to me that Ben's writing that he reads for Amanda could be cut some . . . and I noticed while reading it at the Fringe a few weeks ago that it felt a tad longish . . . and then I remembered something that came up during feedback at a reading years ago: is he supposed to be a bad writer?

Well . . . no . . . the idea was . . . he was supposed to be good. I had written something intentionally a little pretentiously arty, but I thought it had merit . . . but that kind of question brought me to a decision it suddenly became clear that if we are told that Ben is the greatest thing since sliced bread, then whatever I write as Ben is not going to be good enough . . . if I withhold Ben's writing entirely then the audience will believe he's that good because we say so . . .if we say he's that good and the audience is sitting there saying, 'That wasn't that good' then we've lost them. At any rate, with that in mind: off with his head and good ole Ben's writing is great because we say so . . . the only thing that remains of it is the first line, which was something Hemingway said in the opening of the play . . . a couple of other minor tweaks, and I'm hearing the last 26 pages or so tonight at the workshop and away we go . . . it'll be interesting to see what happens.

The other thing I'm wondering about is whether we need an act break or not. Since the final act is 28 pages, is it worth it? Maybe just storm through the whole thing without intermission? This is something I'll have to decide eventually, but not necessarily right now, or even before sending it in.

Phase II

Found out yesterday that Dead Authors is one of seven plays selected for the second phase of the New Works Project at Terry Schreiber Studio in NYC. Nice. Just shows to go you: you have to put it out there. I haven't for so long, haven't been entering plays in competitions except for newer ones, and I have some pretty rich material to excavate.

Nice shot in the arm that. And coming on the heels of the Old Hickory renaissance . . . very cool.

I am going to take a hard look at Dead Authors over the coming days with an eye toward streamlining where necessary before sending it in. The move to Phase II of the NWP is based upon a treatment and five page writing sample (I sent the Kerouac scene . . . no brainer in my book) so when they see the entire piece I want it to be the best it can be . . . it is one of seven and these seven all made the cut from 132 submitted . . . so it's time for the A game indeed.

Bring it!

Playing catch up

And there is a lot to catch up on:

First the Poe readings. The event couldn't have gone better. Nicely attended, and the work was fun. Bette and I killed at it and Sam Waymon (you may recall he is Nina Simone's brother and set three poems to music) was great as well. The people were all nice and I was very very happy with my work. Reading The Raven is like doing a solo piece. It is theatrical in the extreme and I was discovering new things right up to the last performance. Nice feedback from audience members as well.

The really big news is on the Old Hickory front: I mentioned in a previous post that part of the reason for doing the Poe stuff was to see what the possibilities are with the current mgt of the theater. Well we hit it off big time! Richard and his significant other, Carolyn, are very nice folks and Richard has a great promotional sense and is very astute with the tech end of things as well.

So I reached out to him to see if we could talk and went to his office yesterday afternoon, just generally to see if he had any interest in maybe doing something along the lines of my solo work or something . . . I figured I'd put it out there and he would take some time to think it over . . . to my surprise I left with a booking! We brain stormed some and he asked about a Valentine's hook . . . and a light sure went off in my head. Granted . . . it's a bit of a twisted Valentine's hook but hey, that's the best kind. It's a story about love and such anyway, kind of, and if we can get people in there it'll be awesome!

And it's a block from my house!

On to other topics (but more on OH as it develops of course . . . that is why I created the blog in the first place!) I mentioned that I had an older piece that I never could really crack . . . and I have been thinking a lot about it lately . . . I also have some partially written solo stuff waiting for divine inspiration . . . or whatever inspiration I can come by . . . I woke up yesterday morning with an idea for something for the play and jumped out of bed to write it down . . . and then realized . . . it might just be what the doctor ordered for this other solo piece I wrote and set aside . . . it's the one about the nebbishy guy who owns the employment agency and originally it had some characters coming in and out of the story, without a real through line . . . well . . . what I wrote yesterday casts the piece in a whole new light . . . and one that definitely qualifies in the 'hillbilly gothic' mode that I aspire to. So we shall see . . . it's funny how this solo stuff takes over . . . I can't seem to focus on long form multi-character right now . . . everything seems to revolve around solo performance . . . two things: I have plenty of full length plays in my pipeline to submit places ... and writing/performing is really the ultimate expression when you get right down to it (as I have said before).

So now what? 2012 looks to be shaping up to be an exciting year!!

Culture is cosmetic . . . Cries and Whispers at BAM

The song from 'Passing Strange', 'What's Inside is Just a Lie' has a refrain from which I copped the heading of this entry: Culture is cosmetic. One thing I take this to mean is that we use culture: theater, music, literature, as a salve to distract us from the unpleasant realities of being alive in the world . . . we will at some point die.

'Cries and Whispers' does not fit into the 'culture is cosmetic' mode. There is nothing salve-like about it. The film is a beautiful piece that stares life in the face without flinching. It's a film about death, painful and brutal and about the ones circling the dying and how they live on; it is beautiful, rich and evocative. According to the playbill, Bergman saw the film as a 'comfort film'.

After seeing the production at BAM of the Toneelgroep Amsterdam, the line from 'Passing Strange' has been resonating a lot in the last couple of days. A lot of theater is cosmetic; and there is nothing inherently wrong with that, people want to be entertained and distracted for a couple of hours so they don't have to think about things like aging parents or paying bills; which makes a production like 'Cries and Whispers' even more stunning. It was a pretty wild ride. The director made very interesting use of video (in fact making the main character, the dying Agnes, a filmmaker and painter); some of the images from this production I will never forget, though describing them would not do them justice.

The performances were brave and for the most part right on target. These actors were not afraid to strip themselves bare, in some cases literally. Was it a perfect production? No. Some of the music choices were out of left field and the director (Ivo van Howe)let some of his performance art inclinations get in the way once or twice. I left thinking I'd seen something interesting if not 'great'; but it has been in my head for a couple of days now and the more I think about it . . . the more I think about it. And that is a sign of greatness I think: that a piece gets under your skin and lives there, and the more you consider it the more it reveals itself.

This is the second of four pieces we are seeing as part of the Next Wave festival at BAM (first was Berliner Ensemble's Threepenny Opera). Next up is John Malcovich as a serial killer . . . wonder how cosmetic that will be!

A wake-up call!

I have been feeling pretty confident about Old Hickory, recently as to knowing the lines and being able to reactivate it when needed. The reason this came up is that there are some potential opportunities on the horizon and I may need to dust it off soon (I sure hope so; I would love to do this in the city for more than the one performance you get with the One Man Talking festival).

This came up the other day after a rehearsal for the Poe readings Bette and I are involved in . . . ok . . . maybe I'll blog about this in a day or two. At any rate, Bette and I were wondering about doing OH in the space in Nyack, a nice little fifty seat theater . . . and she asked me how hard it would be to get the lines together again. I told her I was still in decent shape; the last time I drove to WV I ran the show in the car and, aside from a transition or two, had no problems . . . or so I thought.

I looked at the script again today and realized that there was some new material I had added after the Woodstock run, in anticipation of the two performances that were to have happened last spring but didn't. At any rate, this was something of a revelation as I had completely forgotten about the new stuff! And I like it too!

So you should never get too cocky. I'll need to brush up on my Siler and make sure this thing is ready to rock when I need it to be!

Damage Control

So I figured, since I wrote about the genesis of Dead Authors last week, I should continue on an irregular basis, to write about where some of these plays came from and have been. So Damage Control next.

Damage Control has had more readings and has come closer to production than any of my plays except Where the Rain Never Falls (which was broadcast on WBAI to boot!). Ironically, as things have turned out with my emphasis recently on solo pieces, DC started as a solo piece. I wrote it originally in pretty much one blast of energy in a spiral notebook and saw it as a new age kind of guy who was forced to kidnap someone to pay a debt, the twist at the end (which I will not give away) was in there and I thought it had potential.

But then, I don't know where the impulse came from, but I decided on its current form: the kidnapper: no longer a new age guy but a gambler in over his head . . . way over . .. and has to kidnap this girl to pay off a debt; and his 'mentor' for want of better term, the enforcer who is there to make sure he does what he is supposed to do. There is a third character as well, their drugged victim who is tied to a chair and eventually wakes up.

We never know their real names, the novice is Bro, the killer is Blade. Blade is now the new age guy, into meditation and the like, he does what he does and disappears. He is also a Vietnam vet and learned some valuable lessons there.

As I remember it, the writing went pretty quickly on this one and rewriting was minimal at first. I sent it to my friend Jerry Davis, who had just started Burning Coal Theatre in Raleigh (we had done The Trip to Bountiful together some years before) and he offered to do a reading of the play. So. He flew me down there, and it was a pretty amazing experience. The critic from the Raleigh paper was writing a story about readings and I was interviewed for the first time . . . that was pretty cool . . . and the audience response was very good. I'll never forget one fellow saying he had been 'praying for a happy ending'.

Another reading followed some time after that, in Nyack, at the Elmwood Theater; they had a competition for short plays and the three finalist were all read one evening. DC finished second, though I thought it was the better play; it's too much of a love or hate thing . . .people can get turned off to violence especially if the other choice is a typical light comedy.

At some point after that a friend of mine who was in real estate and wanted to produce got involved. I wanted to have a reading somewhere in the city and he offered this room in a building he owned on Rivington St. on the Lower East Side. It had at one point been a butcher shop. To make a long story short: the Yankees were playing that night and not many people showed. My buddy Kurt Lauer played Bro and he was wonderful, we found some young actress to play the victim and Eric Goche playe Blade.

At any rate, Michael stuck with it, we were gonna be partners in crime and he even ended up producing when DC was accepted for the TRU reading series. We had an excellent director in Jules Ochoa who asked the right questions and guided me through some light rewrites. The guy who played Bro was excellent as well, Jimmy something; who was very edgy and right on. Amazing how the girls who have played the victim have always done so happily, with no lines (I think I added a scene where she did have some lines for the TRU reading). And the reading was in a 99 seat theater with a full house! It was amazing and people really responded.

Then things started going kablooy. We did a reading at the Rattlestick Theater, hoping to produce it there, and Michael had met a film director who came to that reading and became something of a Svengali for Michael, leading on the path to a film rather than a play. Since no money changed hands I was the third part of the triumvirate, equal partners: Micheal producing, me writing and the director directing. I wanted to work to make it happen and kept asking for notes from the 'director'. I had written a screenplay which mirrored the play but with an intro scene leading up to the actual kidnapping . . . pretty good I thought. Finally we convened in Michaels office for a reading of the script . . .and the director said: I've made a few changes. He then proceeded to tell me that Blade was now crippled with a fused spine or some shit and a bow and arrow came in to play as well(he also didn't think people would buy a fast acting tranquilizer, which I thought they wouldn't question if they bought the premise of the movie) Oh, and there were two actors who had been flown up from wherever the director was from to read the parts (the guy playing Blade had a, guess what, fused spine and was an archer) . . . I . . . blew . . . up. I felt bad for the two actors who must have thought this would be their big break. I used language I shouldn't have used and barely kept it in control . . . to get to the point: that was the end of the line for Damage Control, the movie.

It was also the end of the line with my friend Michael. Though we can still be civil it has never been the same. The crowning blow was when he had an assistant write a form rejection letter to me . . . that was worst of all . . . he couldn't bring himself to tell me to my face what I already knew.

Well . . . sometimes you have to stand up for your work, otherwise why bother. I would do the same thing in the same circumstance right now. As my friend and another writer, Angelo Parra said: Better that it sits on a shelf gathering dust than to be made into a film that is an embarrassment.

Right on.

When will I learn . . .

On Sunday, which was a beautiful, 80+ degree October (?) day; I got done what needed to be done and sat in the back yard to read through this new/old piece I'm thinking about going back to. I had started it years ago, but left it to percolate for a while. It really was two stories trying to live as one, and one of them had to go, so I had gone through the script and removed vast sections of it that didn't have anything to do with the main story that got me started on the piece in the first place. So I wanted to read through it to see if it was really something I wanted to commit to. As luck would have it, I liked what I read . . . and even had some ideas while I was reading . . . and nothing to write them down with!

Some day the concept of keeping a writing utensil close by will seep into my brain . . . because one thing I have learned: no matter how good the idea, if you don't write it down it may just go back where it came from, never to be seen again.

So I have to get cracking on this thing and see where it takes me. A drama this time, we'll see what happens.

Of course, I had an idea for another two hander the other day, but I may just write that one down somewhere for later because finding time to work on one play is hard enough, trying to give two the attention they require means that neither one is getting enough quality time . . . sounds like kids don't it?

My three cents worth: The Threepenny Opera at BAM

I'm not above writting about something that impresses me, theater or otherwise. Well . . . last night my wife and I shared a theatrical experience that was well worth spending some time writing about. We saw the Berliner Ensemble's production of The Threepenny Opera at BAM. It floored us both.

Every aspect of the piece was amazing. The voices were superb, and the set design, while minimal, was evocative and artful. The acting was as deep and rich as anything I've seen, ever; and the singing voices were stunning.

The only mild hang up was having to watch the translation on supertitles above the stage, so you had to steal glances upward quickly so as not to lose anything that was happening on stage. At first I was considering just watching without translation, it was that gorgeous to look at and to listen to . . . if what was happening on stage wasn't enough for you, you could have had a nice evening just closing your eyes and listening to the music . . .

I wish I could have taken notes; some of the lines in the play about art, and war and economic injustice were timeless . . . in fact this play, first performed in 1928, rang very true for today.

That, kiddies, is what theater is all about!

The curtain calls were long and rapturous; they did a group call, then by ascending order of characters, then each individual actor got the chance to walk on stage and soak up the love, then one more ensemble call. I had to wonder if, since this was the closing performance, they gave the actors the individual calls as a treat . . .

A special shout out here for the actors. Every single person in the Ensemble was right on target. Their acting and singing was topnotch and their physicality was mindblowing; not that it was Cirque Du Soleil or anything, but the movements were precise and each character had their way of carrying themselves (not as easy as it looks) . . . many many gorgeous stage pictures. (My first Robert Wilson experience, I'm a believer now)

Of course, the Berliner Ensemble was Brecht's creation way back when; so you had to figure whatever they do vis a vis one of his pieces is going to be pretty damn worth seeing . . . I was in hopes that it would wash the taste of the embarrassing production that the Roundabout did a few years back out of my mouth. It's so nice that now, whenever I think of Brecht, or Weil, I will immediately see images from last night's stupendous production.

This was the first of four productions we have tickets for at BAM this fall. And what a way to start!

Dead Authors

Could writing in my blog be my way of avoiding working on my new piece? And if not avoiding, at least putting it off?

Maybe.

But this is something I've been thinking about doing anyway, so here it is. You may recall that when I began this thing, it was a way of having a diary for Old Hickory, from the beginning of the rehearsal process through whenever . . . and here I am still doing it . . . a bit more aimlessly perhaps, but I'm enjoying it. At any rate, one reason for doing this with Old Hickory was because I have often thought that's it's a shame that I didn't have that kind of record for some of my plays, what impulse started them and some of the changes that happened along the way. Those same synapses have been firing away vis a vis Dead Authors since I've been revving it up again recently (entered it into a competition and taking it to the Fringe).

DA, as I shall call it to conserve precious keystrokes, began with a convergence, sort of: I wanted to write a piece for Bette and two of her buddies (both women), and up to that point, fairly early in my writing career, must have been '98 or so as it's copyright reads '99, I hadn't written much in the way of women's roles; so while that was boiling around in my noggin, I was commuting with our neighbor, Janet, who told me on the bus one day that she didn't read any living authors, and as we talked the idea of a kind of 'Eating Raoul' thing popped into my head, where the lead character found a living author she wanted to read so she killed him (or her) so she could read the book, she found out she kind of liked it so she goes on a killing spree, killing contemporary authors so she could read their books and maintain her status.

Something else happened though when I started to write it, and I wish I could identify the moment when the current form of the play took hold. I do know that I never got very far with the original impulse, instead making it a story of a lonely woman who has her favorite authors come to her with little hints at what may happen in the play. Somewhere I have a 120 page version that preceded the current 84 page form; I'll have to read it some day to see if it holds up.

How did I decide on which authors to use? Part personal favorites and part opportunities for theatrics. The play opens with Hemingway and kind of spoofs his macho-ness but leading to a very dark place. Kerouac because it seemed like it could be fun, and it was. For the Kerouac scene I just 'let it rip' to quote the play and sat at the keyboard and tried to channel his energy; I think the scene is a lot of fun and can't wait to take it in. And of course Truman Capote . . . well . . . he ends the play on a note that is as light as Hemingway's is dark. A fun piece.

It was only after the first reading that I had of it, that I added the fourth title character. Mara Mills, the AD at the Newman Theater in Pleasantville, suggested during a discussion after, that maybe there should be a lady among the dead: hence, Dorothy Parker of course.

It really is one of my favorite pieces and we have had some adventures with it. It's a tad ironic that the three women I originally had in mind for the piece never got to read it together, they all did their parts in various combinations, but never all three at the same time. The one constant has been Bette reading the lead and myself as Kerouac and Capote (though I may let someone else read Kerouac at the Fringe).

At one reading one of the three leads called to say that her son was in the emergency room and she couldn't come; I took her script to the reading and crossed my fingers that someone would show who could read cold. Cheryl Pryzby came (she was Mara's assistant at the Newman) and as she walked in the door I said 'Here's a script, you're reading'. And she did, and she nailed it. That same reading was the first time I met the late Heather Duke. Heather was a producer who was a friend of Lewis Chambers at the Bethel Agency. After the reading she said, in front of the whole audience mind you 'I go to a lot of readings, and this is one of the best ones I have ever seen'. She became a real friend and supporter, producing a reading at TRU and another in Haverstraw . . . always a big supporter of mine.

Anyway, Dead Authors has spent a lot of time on the shelf and it's wonderful to brush it off and see how it flies. It's holding up quite well thank you.

Something new!

So a lot has happened since the last post . . . amazing how quickly things fly by . . . at any rate, one of the CDs my daughter got me for my birthday is 'Come on Feel the Illinoise' by Sufjan Stevens, and one of the songs is a haunting ballad about John Wayne Gacy. It got me thinking about a play I had started years ago and then abandoned, about a husband and wife whose daughter has been murdered. At any rate, hearing this song made me think that perhaps the time is right to return to it . . . so I found the piece and spent a little time taking out one of the story lines (it was shaping up to be way too complex) and decided to focus on the parents . . . another of the characters is an older man, whom we find out later is the killer; or maybe we find out that he isn't or just that he may be . . . not entirely sure but it will be fun working on it. I started this morning . . . we'll see.

Also did a bit of addition to the new solo piece and now it can sit for a spell . . . in the meantime I'm continuing to take Dead Authors in to the Fringe . . . though people liked the set up last time, I want to see how it plays to the end . . .

As for acting: I'm participating in this Poe related poetry reading and we had our first rehearsal on Sat. I'm reading The Raven and others, should be fun . . .

A few days away

A weekend in Bennington is good for what ails you. We went to celebrate the birthdays and just hang out with my daughter some. It was a very nice weekend (rain and traffic on the way up there not withstanding). Did zero writing but that's ok. It comes when it comes and I didn't really expect to get much done in the way or writing while I was up there. It would be a lovely place for a retreat, but in this instance that isn't what I was there for. It was just a good time.

I did print the new thing I've been working on to see how it flowed. It really has had a strange gestation: it began as just writing to get myself back in the habit of writing, so it was just autobiographical stories about my fear of snakes and heights; then that morphed into memories of a very colorful friend that I had while in college and then, as I mentioned in my last post, I had this 'ah-ha' moment of who is telling these stories. I wasn't sure if it would hold together at all, but it wasn't horrible. Smooth the transitions some perhaps, get the character of the character telling the story more into it . . . but it's a start, that's for sure.

So I'm gonna just let it sit and ripen a bit. Then come back to it with a more critical eye.

As often happens . . .

I was sitting in the audience listening to some folks reading a piece at the Woodstock Fringe Playwrights Unit the other night when an image hit me that sort of clicked the gears into place for my new solo piece; nothing that had anything to do with the piece being read, just I was sitting there and an image entered my head of who was telling the story (something of a derelict) and where (a bench or a low wall). Also that he was stoned or getting that way. Maybe sunglasses . . . so I went back to it this morning with the idea of working that in and wrote a couple of pages. Don't know where it'll go now, but it's nice to have some sort of frame of reference. Before it was just reminiscing about a colorful friend from a particulary wacky part of my life . . . now it may be a story. We'll see.

The same thing happened last spring with 'Like a Sack of Potatoes'. I was sitting there listening to a piece, might have been one of Norman Marshall's monologues, and I got an image in my head of a barn ... and somebody falling from the rafters. The opening line might have come to me right then too, but I'm not sure about that: Fell out of the sky like a sack of potatoes. I did spend a fair amount of time in tobacco barns when I was a kid so it was a powerful image, I could smell the smell and see the dust rise from the dirt floor ... and all I had to do was figure out who was falling and why. That part of it came together pretty quickly.

It's not like I'm bored by the piece I'm listening to, or that my mind is wandering . . . maybe it's something about being in a creative space that makes the receptors more . . . receptive . . . I don't know, but when stuff like that happens, I pay attention.

Oh, and I took the first three scenes of Dead Authors as well. It went very well. I loved hearing the play again, it's been sitting there gathering dust for so long; good feedback too. I'll take more in next time, see if it holds up. Bette went with me for the first time, liked it enough to go back. She read the lead, which was written for her. People responded to the play and to her very well . . .

Writing/not writing

I'm still kind of treading water with the writing. I was on a roll with a new solo piece, but don't know what to do with it . . . it is mostly a bunch of memories about my dealings with a very memorable character I knew in college, so it's the kind of thing that might work well for the Fringe as if I can't use that as a laboratory what would be a better place?

For the time being I am letting it simmer for a while and I can go back to it with fresh eyes.

There was also a moment this summer when I was thinking of expanding the character of 'the world's oldest salesman' which is something that I created while at the Journal News for a competition . . . that was fun; so when I was feeling fallow this summer I did some writing on it . . . that may be another opportunity. We'll see. It was a cute idea and I loved the character, but a full piece of it? hmmm.

Speaking of the Fringe: tonight is the first meeting of the fall semester of the Woodstock Fringe Playwrights Unit. After dusting off Dead Authors to submit to the competition last week, I was sort of in the mood to hear that again, so I'm taking some pages in. Should be fun. It's hard to believe it's been eleven years since I've had a reading of it! The problem with writing is that you're always moving on to the next thing and the next thing after that and they whatever you are working on now demands the focus (as it should). So a wonderful piece (I think) like Dead Authors is shuffled off to the side. It's like an old friend. Nice when you see them again . . . only with plays they don't get gray and lose hair or gain weight . . . they stay as fresh as the day you stopped working on it.

It's amazing to think of what has gone down in the eleven years since I wrote the piece . . . my daughter was seven for one thing! Bette has her speech path practice. So many plays, and the whole solo thing . . . wow . . . I suppose that's one of the beautiful things about life: if you stay engaged and active, wonderful things can happen. If you stop . . . you stop.

Dead Authors redux

I spent some time yesterday away from writing and took the time to get my entry ready for a competition, a pretty nice one too, in Manhattan. My big quandry was which play to send. A hard decision. I have my newer stuff of course, not the solo stuff, the two handers (mostly) but somehow I figured that a competition by an acting studio, T. Schrieber Studio, might like the idea of many parts . . . for men and women. That was the ultimate decision maker for me.

I was tempted at first to send Damage Control, which is an edgy edgy piece, but it's two guys and a girl who never speaks. I thought of the miners pieces, specifically Where the Rain Never Falls, but it's two hander and the technical requirements would be daunting (I've convinced myself that the technical challenges were an element in Abingdon not moving forward with it); and I thought about my newest piece Not All That Much to Ask, but again two hander, older actors . . . so to make a long story short, I decided on Dead Authors.

Dead Authors has three nice parts for women, and three for men, and that doesn't take into consideration the four title characters. I also think the piece could benefit from a healthy dollop of development, which it has never had. A couple of readings, yes . . . and valuable feedback came from them, but as far as the kind of work Rain had or Damage Control, where you can really get in there and bust your knuckles a bit . . . no. So I picked a five page sample, and sent it off . . . and we'll see. It's a crap shoot to say the least, but aren't they all!

I also had an idea for a new play this morning. I was thinking about family and how it's all well and good, or at least we think it is, while we're all in the same place . . . but then it becomes something else when distance is involved . . . that would be one character who has moved away and comes back as he can; then there is another character who has stayed put and is pulled more and more into religion . . . and then there may be the parent with dementia . . . I don't know it's all ideas right now . . . but it's percolating in there. It may not end up being the title, but the motivating thought behind it is best stated perhaps by a line from a Neil Young song where he talks of an ancient civilization that was 'poisoned by protection'. I remember when I first heard that . . . it stuck with me and was something of a rallying cry for my ultimate move to NY.

10th anniversay

I've done my best to avoid all the news and reporting on the tenth anniversary of 9/11. It means what it means to people and I don't think we need media saturation to tell us what to think. I have my own reflections. I was working in the city that day, as every day, and just like any other day I was walking to work from Grand Central. One unusual thing happened on the walk down Madison Avenue . . . a big passenger plane flew over, and pretty low too. I may have commented on how unusual that was, but thought nothing of it. Then as I got to 34th St. I saw a big cloud of smoke further downtown. I remember thinking that it was smoke from some building's incenerator. And when I got to work at 28th and Madison, the doorman at the building told me a plane had just flown into the World Trade Center. A little later I went to Madison Square park and looked downtown at the burning WTC . . . that would be the last time I saw them standing.

Work was pretty much called off that day, and for several days after. I walked to Grand Central and just missed the last train out of town. And later walked up to a friend's place on York Avenue on the upper east side. The stream of people walking out of town that day looked like something out of a refugee movie . . . thousands and thousands of people walking out of town because mass transit wasn't running. Every now and then the scream of a fighter jet patrolling the skies. It was very strange. And the feeling . . . inside . . . was something of a state of shock. Everyone I knew was safe and sound . . . but we all, or at least I, felt a little vulnerable that day. Finally, at about 5:30 the trains started running again and I took the subway to Grand Central and went home.

We were all very glad to see each other.

On a roll

So still keeping the writing/blogging thing happening. This is three or four days in a row now and it's become kind of part of the plan for mornings, part of the secret is making sure to get the writing in before checking emails, because that can take you in an altogether different direction.

Yesterday is a good example . . . I did an hour of combined writing/blogging and then checked my Yahoo account . . . bingo! An answer from Steve Earle's manager to my question about sending plays: 'Absolutely, send them along and I'll get them to him!' And that sent me into a frenzy of locating or printing scripts, deciding whether to send just the miners plays or send one of them and my Emma Goldman play, so I decided on one of the miners plays and the Emma, so print them, punch holes, find report covers for them, write a cover letter then breakfast/shower/off to work. At work I decided to take Bette's advice and send the two miners plays and let Emma wait until/if he asks to see it. Home at lunch: walk the dog, find and print Where the Rain Never Falls', rewrite the cover letter, put them in an envelope and then, a quick sandwich and back to work. (why do we create such mania?) You might ask why the rush? Well, I know he has a couple of gigs in the city this week, so I figured if I could get them to the manager by Monday/Tuesday it would be a lot easier to get the scripts to SE.

It was a relief when it was all done, but it added a mild pinch of chaos to an otherwise mildly chaotic day at work (if not chaotic, then busy).

So the plays are off. Hope he likes them. Amazing how this has worked out. Just shows to go you . . . nice things can happen if you let them; open the door and sometimes something walks in.

Poe-etry

Looks like Bette and I are gonna participate in a reading of Poe's poetry in Oct. Should be fun. We went and met the guy last night. He has an internet radio station here in Nyack and a little fifty seat theater. The Poe thing sounds like fun and the theater could be a good place to work on stuff potentially . . . we'll see how things develop.

Actually Bette and I did one of my earliest readings at that space. At the time it was called Main Street Arts. We read my play 'Last Request' there. That play is essentially a two hander in the first act and then a third character is introduced in Act 2. Anyway, we had a very nice turnout and had a great time there. A fun anecdote: the guy that played the third character, the ghost of my character's father as it happens, was an actor named Peter Demaio, he had actually had a career on Broadway for a while and understudied the guy in 'Same Time Next Year'. Anyway, I bumped into him as he was walking toward the theater that night and he had this gravelly voice and said 'I don't think I can read, listen to my voice'. I said, 'No you're perfect!' And he was! The cracked voice worked!

Back to Poe: I have to decide what poems I want to read. I'm leaning toward Annabelle Lee (pretty creepy), and another one, the name escapes me just now . . . but I'm leaning toward the dark stuff . . . because he did write some stuff that wasn't so dark . . . but since this is going to be around Halloween it's obvious that a trip to the dark side is in order!

Catching up part 2

So there is more news to catch up on that I ran out of time for yesterday. The delayed presentation of Old Hickory is delayed again. This time because the renovations on the space haven't been completed and won't be in time . . . so delayed until further notice. That's a shame, I was looking forward to it. But I am committed to doing the piece in the city and reached out to Wallace to see what he thinks; I asked him about Theaterlab, where we rehearsed last year, and she suggested either that or perhaps Westbeth, where the playwrights unit meets.

I like that idea as well. I'd just like to have at least a few performances of the piece in the city . . .

And I'm working on new stuff. Reading a lot and getting inspired. Just finished All Quiet On the Western Front, which blew my mind! What a great story . . . also read Travels With Charley, a great Steinbeck work (but I have yet to read one of his novels that I didn't love). This stuff I find inspirational in important ways as a writer. It's people sitting down and trying bringing something into the consciousness of the world, in hopes it will make it a better place . . . nice work if you can get it.

So I have an idea for a new two hander, that sort of germinated from All Quiet, we'll see what happens with that, and I'm working on something that may or may not be a new solo piece . . . but I'm writing every day, and trying to reestablish the groove . . . it's easy to get out of the habit, and once out it's hard to get the discipline to keep after it, but you just have to turn away from distractions (in my case, I no longer check emails and then write, I write and then check emails . . . you'd be surprised what a differenc that makes!).

Even just a little bit every day sets the tone . . .

Looks like it's gonna be dueling writing groups again this fall, with both starting on the same day . . . as much as I like the one the meets in Nyack, Woodstock Fringe has been a game changer for me . . . can't walk away from that . . .

Long time gone

Ok so there is some catching up to do: I read my new solo piece, Like a Sack of Potatoes, at the Fringe this year. Nice turn out and everyone loved it. Felt very good. I treated it as a performance with script in hand so I took a mini set, chair, crate for a table, a few tomatoes for props. People loved it. Read it again a few nights later for some friends in their living room in Nyack . . . they raved as well. The one thing that may have been nice to add in Woodstock would have been a talk back at the end. Talking to some people after they really enjoyed hearing the root of some of the stuff in the play . . . but I still enjoyed the hell out of it. And . . . there was a sizable chunk of the audience that was there to see me! Based on seeing Old Hickory last year! One couple even went so far as to say they are 'fans'! I told them they better watch saying that kind of stuff in public . . . but self-deprication aside . . . it was an amazing feeling.

Bette and I went back up to Woodstock last weekend to see Steve Earle at the Bearsville Theater. I had never been to the venue before but it is now my favorite place to see shows. Nice vibe. Beautiful space. And 250 seats! Very intimate. Now, this may sound strange, especially in retrospect, and especially since I never mentioned this to a soul, but I always sort of hoped for/felt like I would get the opportunity to talk to SE some time and tell him how much his album (ok ok CD) The Mountain meant to me as I was writing my coal miner plays. I played it a lot and felt it was an important work and still do. I even . . . get this . . . thought of taking one of my plays with me . . .just in case . . . but I didn't. I was there to enjoy the show . . . and besides . . . shit like that doesn't happen. Does it? So. After the show (the amazing show)my wife and I make a bee line downstairs to the facilities before the drive home, and saw SE and his wife go into a door marked private (they were making tracks though, after a three hour show I'm sure the dressing room sounds pretty inviting) So I do my business and figure to wait for Bette, and I figured as good a place as any to wait is at the foot of the winding staircase that leads to the lobby . . . and oh . . . I was right outside the door marked 'private'. I was not stalking however. Just waiting for Bette. Out of the way. In hindsight it may seem like stalking but the fates are funny sometimes. How funny are they? Well, as I'm waiting there the door marked private opens and who should step through it but Steve Earle. He was looking for someone I think, but I didn't miss a beat: I went up to him and shook his hand, introduced myself and said that I'm a playwright and that his album was an inspiration while I was writing my plays. He could have turned and walked off, said 'Isn't that nice or some such' but he didn't he asked me the names of the plays (I almost blanked on one of them) and if they were produced . . . chatted for only a couple of seconds and then I basically excused myself with a 'I just wanted to tell you that' and the last thing he said was 'You're the best man'. I don't know what must have gone through Bette's mind when she came out of the facilities and saw me talking to himself, but I'll tell you what, I was pumped. It was one of those moments that mean so much and to not blow it was a huge relief . . . I can't imagine how it would feel if I had said what I said but it came out sounding like kissing-ass or gobbledygook or something. It was a very nice moment. I asked for nothing and expected nothing but the opportunity to say my piece.

Then, in the car Bette mentioned sending him a script . . . and I allowed as how that had crossed my mind . . . his agent is mentioned in his new album so I called him yesterday, and the guy answering the phone, after I explained that I met Steve and he seemed interested (well ok maybe that is embellishing a tad . . . as my friend Boyd Carr used to say via his cartoon character O. Hector Lee: Sometimes I call a spade a shovel). Anyhow, I asked if I could send an email and get the message to Steve that way, so he gave me the email address for the agent and I sent one; figuring maybe it would be something to read on the tour bus. Of course, I expect nothing to come of it, and if anything did it would just be introducing my work to an artist I respect. But that's enough in its way.

What more than one character??!!

I spent some time this morning formatting and tweaking my new solo piece, which I think I will call Sacred Ground. At any rate it's the two hander I've been taking to the Fringe this winter and it has been getting nice feedback . . . so I think I am going to get it ready to send to the Abingdon Theatre, to see if it flies with them. They have a nice development program, which Where the Rain Never Falls benefitted from. They do a reading and then a staged reading and if they think it'll fly it moves to a production . . . I think it was the technical aspects of Rain that killed it there . . . at any rate, we'll see what happens.

Bette's 'review'

I forgot to mention in my previous posting that I got a real good omen yesterday morning: when walking the dog I found a $20 bill in the middle of the street!

Here is Bette's posting from Facebook about last night's performance of The Red Hand Of O'Neill:

I wish you guys could have seen Ric as O'Neil's father. Try acting in a one man show (1) that had 19th century references, vocabulary and syntax; (2) was historically accurate; (3) was non-linear; (4) was both funny and tragic; and that you wrote yourself. People loved it. He was amazing. (And as his most severe critic, I oughta know!) Oh well, maybe next time


Thanks Bette.

Red Hand performance!

Last night's performance of The Red Hand of O'Neill exceeded my expectations. Especially in light of the fact that the previous two night's rehearsals had not left me feeling all that good about things. Thursday I rushed from work into the city, rehearsed with Wallace for a couple of hours and then went straight to the tech. Tech can be a strange thing in the best of times, and One Man Talking makes it very easy, great folks . . . so we did our tech and then the run through . . . whether it was the new space (after rehearsing in my living room mostly)or my exhaustion . . . it felt flat and just plain wrong. Got home about 12:30 AM up for work the next day, so when I ran it for Bette Friday night, exhaustion again took it's toll and I was happy to get through the damn thing . . . it would have been easy to throw up my hands and surrender to giving a less-than performance, but I decided I'd be ready . . . one way or another . . . I had spent the previous few days concentrating on the performance, I decided Saturday would be spent making sure the lines were right . . . all the work that Bette and Wallace had done with me was really good and helpful . . . I had to trust that structure and make sure the foundation was solid . . . so first thing after my run on Sat. morning I read through the script. Then in the course of the day I went upstairs and ran the show a couple of times . . . by the time we left for the city I felt prepared.

When we got into the car to leave I told Bette: I'll either return carrying my shield or lying on it . . . at any rate, once I got on stage it felt natural and good. Just the right balance of bombast and drunk for the character, all of which is covering his tragedy, which comes out ultimately. There we one or two line blips, but nothing major . . . no flat out blanks, where you don't know what comes next. It was magic, for me, and Bette and Lisa both liked it a lot, and both are honest folks who would tell me if it sucked.

All in all a worthy experiment. I did the piece in the first place because it seemed like a stretch, and it was . . . and boy did it work. Now? Onward. A reading of my new solo piece on the 31st, maybe it'll be my next OMT shot.

Where've I been??

I have been remiss . . . and I would apologize but that seems silly since this should be a low impact-no guilt kind of thing . . . but I have missed it. I've been working hard; at both work and my play . . . never seem to be enough hours in the day, but today there are so here I am!

Things are going well with my Red Hand Of O'Neill rehearsing . . . actually I'm rehearsing on my own mostly, haven't hooked up with Wallace yet, which is just fine, I have been (as noted above) damn busy and shlepping into the city would have been one more thing to deal with . . . I hope we can get a couple of rehearsals in this week, but even if not, the main thing with this fest. is running the script by people to see how the show hits them. As long as I know it, and don't knock over the furniture I will get a sense of that. There are emotional depths to be plumbed for sure, and I hope to hit the mark there as well, but it will be interesting . . . of course, unlike last year's fest, this one doesn't have a summer performance to look forward to this is one and out . . . so I conserve my energy somewhat. I have been running it every single day however, so once this is over I will have me some free time on my hands! good news for blog readers everywhere!

Other news? There was a competition that actually asked for large cast shows. Nice. I sent That Lonesome Valley, which is ten characters or so. It's the one about miners on a picket line. Ensemble piece. Should be fun if chosen. We'll see . . . IN NOVEMBER!

Whatever, it'll be here before you know it. Also gearing up for a reading on may 31 of my new mono piece, and I may just send this new play of mine to the Abingdon Theater company . . . why not . . . it's only the cost of paper and postage . . . and I don't make these things up so they can sit on a shelf (though most of them do).

Nice to be back . . . I promise more regularity . . . whatever that means.

Took the last fifteen pages of Family Matters to the Fringe on Tuesday. It was nice to hear, though a little weird since I read the closing monologue as part of my eulogy for mom's funeral. The actors did a nice job though and now I have that off my plate I can take in the new two hander until that is all read and I can figure out what to do with it.

I did manage to get a spot in the Voices from the Fringe reading series, and it works out pretty well . . . I am doing the O'Neill piece on May 7 in the city and then on May 31 I will read my new solo piece (as yet unnamed and unfinished). That gives me plenty of time to get it together and polish it. That piece has sort of taken a back seat since my mother's health crisis, and once I get past spending my spare time learning lines I can return to it and figure out what it's supposed to be.

I have been putting in an hour every morning when possible to commit the lines to memory and it has been going well . . . I'm on page 7 out of nine and a third pages . . . so it should be smooth sailing.

Wallace said he'd help out with the direction, which will be nice; I like working with him and it won't be nearly as intense as last year with OH; the piece is much more intense but I don't think we're going to put that kind of rehearsal time in . . . hard to believe I was able to spend three hours a day learning lines last year . . . that's what happens when you ain't working . . . this piece is going to be challenging in other ways, very dramatic, very dark . . . it'll be interesting to see how it goes.

More on everything later.

What a difference ten days make . . .

I noticed on my previous posting how exciting the coming week was gonna be culminating in my performances at Blue Horse Rep . . . wow, if only. The day after that posting things spun a tad out of control, my mother went into the emergency room and I went down to WV to be with her, thinking to return on the 17th (Thurs.) to rehearse, or at latest Friday to perform . . . of course things didn't turn out that way and my mother died on Friday morning the 18th, with my dad, my brother and I at her bedside, in fact I was holding her hand and watching her face intently until that last gentle breath. It was a stunning moment and one that will live for me always.

At any rate, I contacted Lora Lee of Blue Horse on Wed. when I knew things were not going very well to talk about options, and a few minutes later Peggity called and to very graciously offered to postpone the performances. I was relieved to say the least. So it will be in September some time as the arts center is being renovated.

Which leaves me with more on my plate for sure. I have the upcoming performance of the O'Neill piece at One Man Talking, that is to be Sat. May 7th; and I'm working on a new piece that I am still having fun with; I was sort of hoping to read it during the Voices from the Fringe thing this year, but when I got the schedule I wasn't on it! Don't know what that means. Probably only means that who ever was doing the scheduling lost the thread with my name on it!

Right now I am working on learning the lines for OMT. It's a big job, not as big as Old Hickory, but learning nine to ten pages is learning nine to ten pages no matter how you cut it . . . and there is no easy way to do it; it's hard work. Having said that it is going well . . . I started yesterday and have about two and a half pages in decent shape . . . my goal is to be functionally off book by next weekend. Then I can solidify the lines and then in the last couple of weeks rehearse some. More on all this as it progresses of course.

Blast off!

This is the week of the performances and I'm pretty pumped. Lora Lee (co-artistic director of Blue Horse Rep) wrote to tell me their Irish music thing sold out this weekend . . . I hope that's a good omen. I've been working Old Hickory (ran it for Bette yesterday, which was first time on its feet with some semblance of blocking, she had some great comments and it went pretty well) have a couple of rehearsals this week so the momentum builds and then two performances and . . . that's it.

I guess there are two ways to look at it: disappointment over having only two performances; or joy of having two performances. I opt for the latter. I'm ready to rock and it'll be a gas, especially if there is a large receptive audience . . . that's when it's fun to do this stuff. When you have the audience eating out of the palm of your hand and you take them on a journey. It's an awesome feeling!

The first time I felt it was doing The Zoo Story way back when. I may have mentioned that in a previous posting, but to have packed houses laughing and with you . . . and then the turn of the screw when the play gets dangerous . . . you can feel it, it's electric. Good plays have that power, and if you nail it performance wise, wow! For the audience it's magic; for the actor . . . it's quite a heady brew.

I saw Kathy Bates work that magic in a solo show disguised as a two hander, The Rain of Terror. Saw it in Louisville in the mid-eighties. I thought so highly of it that I directed it with my good friends Micki Maley and Rick Brown. It was well received everywhere we did it, and I never asked Micki (that I can recall) if she felt that kind of audience response, where they were with you all the way . . . One thing I will never forget though is taking it to a competition and getting feedback from the academics who were judging. This is a play about an obese woman who sits there and tells a story, and it casts quite a spell. Well this putz says, 'I think you ought to find some place where she could get up and move around'. Ah, academia!

With Old Hickory I've felt it during almost every performance, though less so when the audience is eleven or twelve people. I didn't feel the performance suffer, but it sure takes some getting used to if you're accustomed to enthusiastic audience response and then get an audience that is listening . . . anyway, every audience is different and bless their hearts for being there in the first place . . .

But I digress. I have been adding more to the new piece; and I'm still having fun with it, so that's a good sign. We'll see how it comes out, but I'm beginning to get a sense of where it's going and it's surprising me all the time, which is also a very good sign.

It's been a challenging last few days. My mother's health is deteriorating, but she is hanging in there; I've talked to her almost every day just to check in . . . she seems to be getting better, but at my parents' age, that is a tad relative . . .

Close to packing it in . . .

I came close to packing it in with the O'Neill piece this weekend. Sort of one of those 'what have I gotten myself into moments'. And then I went back and read it with a very critical eye. I figure a trim here or there and it's do-able. It's not as close to my heart as Old Hickory and never will be, and it's one that I wouldn't mind someone else tackling, but for now I'm down with doing it. It has some wonderful things to say about art and the life of the artist, and this guy is definitely staring into the abyss, so that's a nice acting challenge . . . a good workout.

It is a daunting task to learn the lines. It's about half of what Old Hickory was this time last year, as I remember it was 21 pages when we did the One Man Talking, and O'Neill is 10. It'll absolutely be a challenge, especially since I can't spend three hours a day every day working the lines, which I could last year as I wasn't working . . . it'll get done and then I can move on.

Speaking of moving on, I am working on yet another solo piece that intrigues me. Another hillbilly gothic tale of murder, this time not ex-wives . . . if it works out it could be a companion piece to OH, which is sort of my goal. Make it an evening of hillbilly gothic, maybe even call it that. We'll see. Gotta get it written first. I'm making progress, a little chip at the block every day, one of these days the only thing left will be this play . . . as long as I'm having fun with it that's the main thing . . . otherwise, why bother?

Arts on the Lake

Met all the folks involved in the production for Blue Horse Rep today. Nice folks. I have known Lora Lee for quite a while, going back to the early Blueberry Pond days; and I had met Peggity on one other occasion, nice folks who are doing it for all the right reasons.

I got the chance to hear the other piece that shares the evening, Cemetery Man by Ken Jenkins. Nice piece. Funny, moving. Goes well with Old Hickory I think. In fact, it would be hard to think of a solo piece that would be a better fit, similar vibe, by which I mean more of what I call the hillbilly gothic thing. I won't say too much about it other than to say I'm happy to be sharing the bill with it. George Kimmel, who is acting the piece did a very nice job, and we were just sitting around a table running lines, can't wait to see him act it. Another in a long line of connections that keep springing up with these people, turns out George was in a play that I saw during one of my Louisville excursions back in the mid 80's; I didn't remember him in it, but I remembered seeing the play which was called 'In a Northern Landscape', a stark piece with a really lovely set; the only actor I can remember in it was Frederick Majors who played the lead, but anyway it was a nice kick that George was in a play I had seen there.

Old Hickory got a nice reception from the folks around the table. Lots of laughs (and where they are supposed to be thank you very much). So now I have just under two weeks to get it burnished back into shape. I really feel like I could do it right now and it would be just fine; but with a few rehearsals with Wallace it should be singing again. I can't wait.

Actually started another piece this morning, we'll see what happens with it. I got the idea as I was watching another piece at the Fringe the other night, and I actually started working the idea some this morning . . . if I can capture what I think is there, it could be good creepy fun. More as it happens.

The O'Neill piece

I heard this morning about 'the Red Hand of O'Neill's' acceptance into the One Man Talking Festival. It'll be in early May some time. I have mixed emotions about performing this piece because it's such a stretch for me and to be honest, it's a tad intimidating, if not out right scary . . . so of course I have to do it. How can you walk away from a challenge like this?

I know an actor, an early and enthusiastic supporter of the piece, who would love to do it, but when push comes to shove . . . if you only perform parts that are close to you, then why call yourself an actor?

So away we go. When I have more time I'll write a bit more about the source and inspiration for this piece; it actually was the first solo piece that I wrote, then it hit the back burner for a while . . . now . . . we'll see . . .

to be continued!

New piece went over well

I took the (still untitled) new piece to the Fringe last night and it went over very well. I have to say I didn't know what to expect. It is very hard to listen to something for the first time and the laughs were sporadic (of course, it ain't slap your knees funny). I expected some criticism but everyone seemed to really like it. I wondered if it took too long to get rolling but everyone seemed to think it was just about right . . . but they did say that they got to the point where something should happen.

Wallace did think it lacked a little in the urgency dept., but that could be that it was read cold by the (great) actors and Jerry McGee asked about one problematic line. I thought it was funny when I wrote it, but it sure didn't read last night. The line is "if is half of life", and when asked what the other half is, the character answers "l and e". I still think it's funny, but maybe the only place it'll work is in this blog, cause I guess it'll have to exit stage right from the play.

No other big news. Production meeting for Old Hickory this weekend, and I still haven't heard from One Man Talking regarding the O'Neill piece, so I guess that ain't happening.

Under three weeks

Just a under three weeks til the next two perfs. of Old Hickory. Looking forward to it. I get to see the space and meet anyone I haven't already met next Sat. morning at a production meeting. I've been working the lines and things are in good shape. As we get closer we'll look at doing some rehearsing, probably only one or two of them in the city. Have to find out from the producers if they will spring for any part of it. It would be a big help if they did.

We'll see.

I'm thinking of taking in pages from my new piece to the Fringe on Tues. instead of more of Family Values. I like FV and it was wonderful to hear it read by Nicola and Norman; I might take it in once more just in the event both Nicola and Victor are there. I really want to hear what he does with the part, so maybe I'll go in with pages from both of them and decide there which to present. Oh, the choices!

Did a little more tweaking on the new piece yesterday, that felt good. Also have some ideas for other plays, but more on them later.

Tonight is the Oscars, and while part of me says "don't bother" another part says "it's only once a year, go for it". I think that the conventional wisdom as far as winners is accurate, as for the major categories . . . no big surprises there, but it'll still be fun anyway.

More on everything later.

So where've I been?

I can't believe how long it's been since I posted anything; and in the midst of all this activity!

So I'll play catch up: Old Hickory is moving right along. The dates are set and we're all meeting on March 5 to see the space and the like. I'm really looking forward to it. I can't get enough of this piece. I've been running it on my own just to make sure the lines are solid, now I'm also starting to rework some of the blocking, but I won't know what to do about that until the meeting when I'll find out more about the space and tech capabilities. I don't care. I could do this in your living room. It's just such a pleasure to do . . . and it's a rush . . . I know I've said it before but performing in your own piece is truly the ultimate creative experience in theater. Yes you can act in other people's plays and really touch people; you can write plays that other people act in and really touch people; you can direct plays written by others and acted by others and touch people . . . but nothing comes close to holding the stage . . . alone . . . saying words, telling a story, that you created. Nothing. Comes. Close. It'll live with me forever.

I'm also waiting to hear from the One Man Talking Festival about my O'Neil play. We'll see what happens with that. I did get an email from them the other day, they had a problem opening the file of my script . . . seems it was embedded somehow in the whatever . . . well . . . I warned them in my cover letter that I was technically challenged. So to their credit they didn't disqualify me, but asked to see the script . . . don't know for sure when I'll hear, but it could be soon.

I also took the first 15 pages of Family Matters to the Fringe workshop. That was fun. It was the first time I had heard it read by others. Bette and I had done several readings of it before, but I hadn't heard it. Nicola Sheara and Norman Marshall (my buddy from Rain) read the two parts. It was lovely. They really got it. I knew they would. Might have to take in the rest over the next few meetings.

My other new piece I have been letting sit for a while now. In fact, it may be about time to look at it again, on the other hand, my plate is kind of fullish so it can wait in line. From a triage standpoint it may not be the most pressing thing right now. I have been having some ideas burbling around about new pieces . . . uh . . . oh.

It's happening . . .

So it's a done deal. OH is being performed again and I can't wait! Only two performances, but . . . hey . . . that's two more performances! I been tweaking it ever so slightly, as you know from my previous posts . . . and I feel like it's ready to go. I ran the show this morning and it was in damn good shape . . . the new stuff isn't 100% integrated yet, but it soon will be. Of course, the new stuff doesn't make it or break it, but I feel that it adds something . . . like adding a pinch of spice to a pot of soup . . . you may not notice it, but it does add something.

At any rate, it will be fun to have this up and running again. I spoke to Wallace last night, and he doesn't think he'll be able to be around that much because of work and such. I completely understand. We'll do a touch up rehearsal or something and that will suffice. He said he'd make it up for the tech if he can, but we'll see. I sure don't want to pressure him, he has done plenty for this show and I am proud to carry the tradition.

This time around there will be another solo piece as part of the evening. It's a piece by Ken Jenkins. I love his work. There are some real connections sprouting up in this event: apparently Lora Lee Ecobelli, who is co-artistic director of Blue Horse Rep and is producing the show, is a friend of Deni Bonet, who I knew before moving to NY, back in West Virginia. AND Lora Lee is trying to raise money for a film with Ellen Burstyn attached, who I was in the Trip to Bountiful with AND the Ken Jenkins thing, I met Ken when we worked on Matewan. Not only that, but Lora Lee says her brother in law, Chris Burmeister worked on Matewan . . . one big happy family!

I'm ready to rock this baby again. I wish Laurette was gonna be around to see it, but she'll be off in school . . . too bad . . . but she has seen it twice . . . I just want more more more . . . so sue me. I should take notes from my friend Norman Marshall, who has been doing his John Brown piece all over the place for years . . . I have to figure out how he does that . . . as Prior Walter says in Angels in America: More life! That's what I want for Old Hickory.

Getting serious . . . a bit at a time

I've been spending more time with the script for Old Hickory lately. Just want to make sure it's solid line-wise, because if that ain't happening, not much else is. I ran the lines while running yesterday and there were some sloppy places, mostly transitions, and I took the script this morning and sat down with it, running lines with the script in front of me so I could catch places where I was getting into bad habits. I'm in decent shape, but that isn't where I ultimately need to be.

Looking forward to doing it again that's for sure; and as it's now Feb. 5 and the projected dates are March 18 and 19, there is no time like the present for ramping it up . . . one thing for sure: no one is gonna do it for me . . . so off the lazy duff and dive in . . . and oh,yeah, I better think about learning that new stuff too, don't you think?

More winter . . .

So the first posting of the second year of the blog . . . and there's more Old Hickory news . . . well . . . only in that I have added a page or so to the piece. I wanted to take a look at it with an eye toward filling in holes. There seemed to be something missing in there between the main character (Jimmy) and the Ex-wife. So I was able to come up with something that I think works.

It won't take the piece from forty five minutes to an hour, but it does add a little something, I think. I read through OH this morning because as I have run the lines recently there were a couple of transitions that I stumbled on; there was one sequence in particular that, when I read it this morning and saw what I was leaving out, I couldn't believe it! One of my favorite lines!

Now I have to spend more time with it so when we get to rehearsals I'll be ready to rock. This time last year I was spending three hours a day learning lines . . . it may look easy, but it ain't!

Happy Anniversary!!!

Just realized that today is the one year anniversary of the blog you're reading. Whoever is out there reading this thing . . . it's nice to share. It's pretty amazing actually when I look at the stats and see that there have been people from Russia and Poland, Pakistan, Brazil, South Korea! Amazing. Especially since I don't try at all to get it out there, I just let fly and see what sticks. There are only three people listed as followers of the blog, thank you Bette and Micki and wnhamlet, whoever you are. And thank you to all the folks who came to check me out after I mentioned my blog on Jorma's blog . . . who knew . . . it's an amazing way to build a community, which I guess we're seeing the possibilities of in northern Africa right about now . . . I'd say the revolution starts here, but the only thing I want to revolutionize is my own life. I actually have done a pretty fair job of doing that so far, and it's a continuous work in progress . . . I won't know where I'm going until I get there, but the journey is pretty bad-ass.

It has been an amazing journey this past year I'll tell you that; somewhere along the lines of a dream come true. For an artist to be given the platform to get his work out there is an amazing thing; I'm sure there are writers and painters and such out there who take this kind of stuff for granted, but I'm not one of them, this past year was a golden time . . . and the beautiful thing is . . .I still feel pretty golden about what's happening right now too . . . yes I do have a job, but it's one that I'm pretty happy with, and while I don't have the freedom to move to Woodstock for a few days to rehearse, I sure don't have to worry about commuting or taking the job home with me; so all in all it's just fine.

As for the year of blogging: you know by now that I started this thing to keep a record of what was happening with my solo show, Old Hickory. I had no idea when I started this where it would go, and I sure didn't know that we'd end up doing seven performances at the Fringe festival this year. But the blog has taken a life of its own and sometimes does digress a bit, but that's ok, there are no rules here, it's stream of consciousness pretty much.

So I kept up with the progress of Old Hickory through the One Man Talking Festival through to the Fringe; that same time also encompassed the radio broadcast of my play Where the Rain Never Falls on WBAI (speaking of revolution) with me in one of the parts, that was pretty cool. I also did a nice interview with the public radio station in Albany for the Fringe Festival and that wasn't embarrassing.

So it's been an interesting year. And I can only hope that the coming year is half as bad ass as this past year has been. I do know there are two more dates for Old Hickory, March 18 and 19 (please, stop snowing by then!) and I have entered my O'Neill piece in this year's One Man Talking Festival . . . and I'm continuing to work on new stuff and who knows what can happen . . . I only know that I intend to keep on doing it . . . and I plan to keep on blogging about doing it . . . so fasten your seat belts . . . it's gonna be a heck of a ride!

Enough with the snow . . .

Yeah, winter is lovely and all that, but you have to give me a break please. We've had enough snow this year to last a lifetime, or at least the next five winters . . . I'd like to progress straight to spring now please. No passing go and no $200!

Ok, I got that out of my system.

I had a nice weekend with my folks in Charleston, well . . . not a weekend really: I went down on Sat., got there about 2 pm, and left at around 12:30 on Monday . . . but it was nice to see them. It was that rarest of weekends when there was an ever so brief opening in the winter snows . . . but then I get back and wham.

There it came up again! Sorry.

Read through the new two hander . . . got to let it sit for a moment. Eventually want to take it to the Fringe, but the next couple of sessions I want to take Family Matters. Of course, I see this Tues. is supposed to be - you guessed it . . . more snow. Give me a break!

Here's a sentence I can get through with out the 's' word: looks like two more dates for Old Hickory: March 18 and 19 with Blue Horse Rep. Details to follow. But I'm relatively certain it won't be snowing in March . . . uh oh . . . shouldn't have said that!

That's it for now . . . and I do not want to hear about any damn snow!

Finished stuff . . .

Finished Keith Richards' autobiography. A fun read. You feel like you know the guy after a while. One thing that struck me: I have read a lot of biographies and autobiographies, and usually they are really interesting while the person is struggling away trying to make it against long odds (most of the bios I've read have been actors or writers) but sort of run out of juice after the person gets known. There are exceptions, Life With Monte Cristo, about the early years of Eugene O'Neill is one, of course, it is the first volume (when's the rest coming out!) and ends with him getting famous; another is Chekhov, by Henry Troyat. Now I can add Keith to the list. I found it captivating right up to the last sentence.

I also worked to the end of the current draft of the new two hander. I just have a couple of things to decide as to where one or two passages belong, but then I can let it simmer for a while and see what I think of it then. I hope it works, it is close to my heart, but I guess you could say that for all of my plays . . . cliche alert: they are all my children and I love them equally . . . well . . . maybe some more than others. Next up I get to spend some time taking a hard look at Old Hickory to see if it needs anything, or if it can be bulked up just a tiny bit. Don't want to do anything that screws it up though!

Oh, and not that it matters, but both things I have submitted for for this year ended up with rejection. I was kind of surprised by the Dramatists Guild self production seminar, thought I'd make that one. The guy who emailed me said, 'don't let this discourage you'. My reaction to that was, and I wrote this to him in an email: if I let rejection discourage me, I have no business in this business. He shouldn't need me to tell him that.

A play blog about movies?!

Well . . . yes. There is nothing like theater, but since I had very little exposure to it in my youth, and since I spent virtually every Sat. afternoon at the movie theater, well . . . yes, this post is mostly about movies.

SAG voting is nearing and I've been catching up. Some very good films this year: The Fighter, The Social Network, True Grit, Rabbit Hole (should have been nominated for cast instead of The Kids are All Right, if you ask me), to name but a few; and then the mind blower of the bunch: Black Swan, a truly visionary piece; difficult? Yes. Daring? Double yes. Provocative? I'll say. But also one of the truest visions of what people do for their art on film (not literal truth, but metaphorical . . .ok?).

Natalie Portman gets my vote for leading lady. Before seeing Black Swan I was leaning toward Nicole Kidman, taking nothing away from the other ladies nominated, she had the good fortune to have the best script to work with, and I thought she was quite wonderful. But Natalie Portman did for me in Black Swan what Christian Bale did for me in The Fighter; they aren't performances, they are transformations . . . no one else even comes close.

For leading man, my hat is tipped in the direction of Colin Firth, who I thought was superb in The Kings Speech (I might have gone for Geoffrey Rush as well if not for the aforementioned Mr. Bale).

Supporting woman has to be Melissa Leo in The Fighter (and I think Barbara Hershey could have been nominated for Black Swan as well while we're at it).

Supporting man is, if you haven't gleaned it already Christian Bale . . . no one else comes close.

For the cast, SAG's best picture equivalent; earlier in the year I would have thought The Social Network was the one to beat, and it was beautifully well done; then I saw The King's Speech and thought that was pretty special (Colin Firth especially); but then The Fighter . . . wow . . . what an ensemble, and it was one of those rare instances where it really was an ensemble, they worked off each other so well . . . I'll have to buy that one when it comes out. Black Swan? Nice work all round, and if it wins the best picture Oscar I won't quibble because it is daring film making . . . BUT . . . the SAG awards are for acting not film making per se . . . so I'll have to go with The Fighter for Performance by a cast.

Who got robbed? I would have liked to see Matt Damon get nominated for Hereafter, beautiful work. I also thought that Aaron Eckhart (who I'm not a major fan of) deserved a nomination for Rabbit Hole, he really hit it out of the park. Also, SAG has nothing to do with screenplays, but if Rabbit Hole isn't nominated for screen play they will have to answer to me (I noted that the Golden Globes passed it by).

That's it. Wonderful year for actors . . . some nice performance by actresses, but not too many that were that stunning in the lead category . . . nice to get a vote though.

Now play news:

I ran lines for Old Hickory while running again yesterday. Still a couple of rough patches, but I'll get out the script and dust it off . . . I foresee no problem there; still have to decide whether to add to it or not . . .

Also did about three hours of work on the new two hander as well . . . I hope this one works because I like it a lot.

Enough for now . . . a moment of two to consider Dr. King tomorrow isn't a bad idea; he changed the world . . . or at least chipped away at some of the uglier bits.