Some Pics:
 |
| Hurricane Ridge in Washington with Old Friends |
 |
| Christmas in Cleveland |
 |
| In my parents' backyard... a hundred years ago. |
 |
| Young and Blurry! |
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Today.
The post below entitled "35 Years" was written by my sweet husband. He surprised me this morning with it. Yes! I picked him up in a bar 35 years ago today... he was too beautiful. I can't imagine life without him. He is my family, my heart and my home.
Some Pics:
Some Pics:
35 Years Ago
Thirty-five years ago tonight we met at The Oar House on Main Street in Santa Monica.
All either one was looking for was a piece of ass.
I got prime choice. You, ground beef with an Afro.
I can't imagine what this mercurial life would be like without you.
Forever genuine and without guile, you are the one true being.
Loving you is like humus.
Can't get enough.
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Art Of Stage Management.
I've become a little worried that the art of stage management has become less important to producers and directors than it briefly became. I'm seeing a movement that seems to take the stage manager out of the equation, ignoring the vast knowledge and experience a stage manager can bring to a project. I'm wondering if this has to do with ego. Maybe it all has to do with control.
This is a complicated topic. Some directors need to micro-manage to the extent that they are actually doing some of the work a stage manager could do for them. Oh, you want examples? Well... character/scene breakdowns, scheduling and time management. They are not trusting the stage managers to look out for the show. They seem to be afraid of losing some kind of control when in fact the stage managers can easily take over these jobs and free the directors to simply create.
Some theatre companies don't want the stage managers to give notes to the actors after opening. They hire assistant directors to watch the show once a week and give notes. Okay.. makes my job easier in a way... but on a nightly basis this doesn't serve the production as much as the someone who is dedicated and is watching 8 shows a week. A stage manager should be the first to notice when an actor is going off track and can fix it with a quick note at fight call. The rest of the company doesn't have to wait for the assistant director to show up to "fix" the show. The show won't need fixing! (When stage managers give nightly notes we have the added benefit of reducing the actors' stress because a simple fix has been solved in a day.. not in a week.)
The point, I believe, is that the producers are hiring technical stage managers who are very good, but lack a sense of the ultimate goal of theatre: To communicate, to educate, to change the way the audience thinks and to move the audience to action. Producers have lost faith in stage managers and look to an outside eye to note and "fix."
I'm not sure the actors appreciate this interference from someone who is not with them night after night. I think the actors need the eye of someone they've come to trust in rehearsal, tech and performance...
I think the producers are now looking for "less" in a stage manager and not "more."
I know some designers are delighted by this. "Call my cue on this word." "But," the stage manager says..."Sometimes he moves more slowly to this spot and your cue will put him in darkness." "NO" the designer says... call my cue on this word." I've run into this. I don't understand the didactic nature of the instruction. I overheard Jules Fisher say to his colleague Peggy Eisenhower once about me, "leave her alone, she knows where to call the cue." Yeah, he knew I knew what I was doing. But now, designers have no faith and want no help and won't let the stage manager help to figure out exactly where that particular cue should be called. It feels like it is all about power. I don't understand. I thought we were a collaborative group... I thought we were working together to make the show perfect.
I'm not sure the theatre world has yet noticed, but I have. The scope and work and job of the stage manager is becoming that of a technician. Again.
We once were artists.
This is a complicated topic. Some directors need to micro-manage to the extent that they are actually doing some of the work a stage manager could do for them. Oh, you want examples? Well... character/scene breakdowns, scheduling and time management. They are not trusting the stage managers to look out for the show. They seem to be afraid of losing some kind of control when in fact the stage managers can easily take over these jobs and free the directors to simply create.
Some theatre companies don't want the stage managers to give notes to the actors after opening. They hire assistant directors to watch the show once a week and give notes. Okay.. makes my job easier in a way... but on a nightly basis this doesn't serve the production as much as the someone who is dedicated and is watching 8 shows a week. A stage manager should be the first to notice when an actor is going off track and can fix it with a quick note at fight call. The rest of the company doesn't have to wait for the assistant director to show up to "fix" the show. The show won't need fixing! (When stage managers give nightly notes we have the added benefit of reducing the actors' stress because a simple fix has been solved in a day.. not in a week.)
The point, I believe, is that the producers are hiring technical stage managers who are very good, but lack a sense of the ultimate goal of theatre: To communicate, to educate, to change the way the audience thinks and to move the audience to action. Producers have lost faith in stage managers and look to an outside eye to note and "fix."
I'm not sure the actors appreciate this interference from someone who is not with them night after night. I think the actors need the eye of someone they've come to trust in rehearsal, tech and performance...
I think the producers are now looking for "less" in a stage manager and not "more."
I know some designers are delighted by this. "Call my cue on this word." "But," the stage manager says..."Sometimes he moves more slowly to this spot and your cue will put him in darkness." "NO" the designer says... call my cue on this word." I've run into this. I don't understand the didactic nature of the instruction. I overheard Jules Fisher say to his colleague Peggy Eisenhower once about me, "leave her alone, she knows where to call the cue." Yeah, he knew I knew what I was doing. But now, designers have no faith and want no help and won't let the stage manager help to figure out exactly where that particular cue should be called. It feels like it is all about power. I don't understand. I thought we were a collaborative group... I thought we were working together to make the show perfect.
I'm not sure the theatre world has yet noticed, but I have. The scope and work and job of the stage manager is becoming that of a technician. Again.
We once were artists.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Mad As A March Hare.
If you don't strike while the iron is hot the iron gets cold.
A stitch in time saves nine... stitches! Did you know that?
A penny saved is not very much money.
Every closed door opens a window. Great. Now I'm locked in and have to crawl out the window.
Reminds me of a riddle: You are in a room with no place to get out. You have a table, a chair and a mirror in there. How do you get out?
Ready? You stand on the chair, look in the mirror, see what you saw, take the saw, cut the table in half, two halves make a (w)hole... you climb out the hole!
Really dumb, I know.
Who knows the riddle that ends with "a cat with a brick in its mouth" ?
Or... you come to a crossroads. You don't know which road to take. At the entrance to each road there is a man. One right and one left. One man always lies and one man tells the truth. You don't know who is who. What question do you ask the two men to find your way? (This has been around for a long time.)
My brother once told me that after you die your earlobes keep growing. When they (who are "they"?) dig up your dead body... your earlobes are down to your ankles. I believed him FOR YEARS! Fuck him, I actually told people.
My brother also couldn't see very well and every time he saw cattle he said, "Look, Deer!" For years when his sisters saw cattle we said, "Look, Deer!" (Wait, he deserved it!)
My mother sang a bedtime song that was one of my sisters' favorite:
"She sailed away, on a happy summer day, on the back of a crocodile.
'You see' said he, 'I as tame as tame can be, I'll sail you down the Nile.'
The croc winked his eye as she waved them all goodbye, wearing a happy smile.
At the end of the ride, the lady was inside and the smile was on the crocodile."
Another sister and I continually share the same joke again and again:
Be alert. The world needs more lerts.
My Aunt has said to me (ever since I was very little), "Know what?" "Turkey Trot." I never got it, but it amused her endlessly!
The name game was funniest when we did Chuck. (In my family it went like this.. " Chuck Chuck Bo Buck, Banana Fanna Fo... silence... Fe Fi Fo Muck, Chu-uck.)
My mother said "broomsticks" instead of bullshit. She wouldn't let us say "Jeez!" because it was too close to "Jesus." I miss her.
A stitch in time saves nine... stitches! Did you know that?
A penny saved is not very much money.
Every closed door opens a window. Great. Now I'm locked in and have to crawl out the window.
Reminds me of a riddle: You are in a room with no place to get out. You have a table, a chair and a mirror in there. How do you get out?
Ready? You stand on the chair, look in the mirror, see what you saw, take the saw, cut the table in half, two halves make a (w)hole... you climb out the hole!
Really dumb, I know.
Who knows the riddle that ends with "a cat with a brick in its mouth" ?
Or... you come to a crossroads. You don't know which road to take. At the entrance to each road there is a man. One right and one left. One man always lies and one man tells the truth. You don't know who is who. What question do you ask the two men to find your way? (This has been around for a long time.)
My brother once told me that after you die your earlobes keep growing. When they (who are "they"?) dig up your dead body... your earlobes are down to your ankles. I believed him FOR YEARS! Fuck him, I actually told people.
My brother also couldn't see very well and every time he saw cattle he said, "Look, Deer!" For years when his sisters saw cattle we said, "Look, Deer!" (Wait, he deserved it!)
My mother sang a bedtime song that was one of my sisters' favorite:
"She sailed away, on a happy summer day, on the back of a crocodile.
'You see' said he, 'I as tame as tame can be, I'll sail you down the Nile.'
The croc winked his eye as she waved them all goodbye, wearing a happy smile.
At the end of the ride, the lady was inside and the smile was on the crocodile."
Another sister and I continually share the same joke again and again:
Be alert. The world needs more lerts.
My Aunt has said to me (ever since I was very little), "Know what?" "Turkey Trot." I never got it, but it amused her endlessly!
The name game was funniest when we did Chuck. (In my family it went like this.. " Chuck Chuck Bo Buck, Banana Fanna Fo... silence... Fe Fi Fo Muck, Chu-uck.)
My mother said "broomsticks" instead of bullshit. She wouldn't let us say "Jeez!" because it was too close to "Jesus." I miss her.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Daffodils And Japan.
Daffodils are a miracle in and of themselves. (I have twenty blooming on my dining table. $1.67 for ten. A pittance to pay for the joy they bring.)
I humbly offer a couple-three haikus to you, my dear reader. Sometimes clumsy poetry beats out the best prose.
1.
2.
3.
It's spring yet I weep
My friends are torn and broken
So much to do
I humbly offer a couple-three haikus to you, my dear reader. Sometimes clumsy poetry beats out the best prose.
1.
Japan's late winter
blasting and devastating
a graceful people2.
Spring comes to Nippon
betrayed by earth and water
her people stand strong
3.
It's spring yet I weep
My friends are torn and broken
So much to do
We should all take a lesson from the grace and strength the Japanese people are showing during these most difficult times. Such civility and humanity. My heart breaks as they persevere. We, here in America may be broke and out of work but most of us are finding ways to keep our homes, our treasures and.. our families fed. As much as we might complain, we are still better off than most of the world and we need to remember and know this. And we need to help.
In this world, it is the daffodils that are the miracle. Everything else needs a little help. We must just stop and learn that we all have to come together.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
We Don't Need Another Hero...
"We don't need another hero. We just need to know the way home." Yeah, I'm quoting Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome. But...I'm also quoting a Tina Turner song. Gives a little more credence to it, don't you think?
We don't need another hero. (I have to ask myself.. another? Who was really the last hero? If you say Reagan, you don't belong here. Go away.)
Life is tough out here outside the 400 people who make the most money in this country. People are scared and voting accordingly because some richer folk think the not rich want to take away the money the richer folk worked so hard to come by. Well, I'm here to tell you, nobody is mad at the just rich folk. We all want to be you. That is part of the American Dream. We are mad at the same people who should infuriate you. Those 400 who hold most of the wealth in this country, control it through congress and contributions and lobbyists and then sit on the cash, are screwing us. They hire domestics and no one else. All other jobs are sent overseas. The tax breaks these richest receive, intended to boost the economy are just ending up in some new version of a savings account. For them. (We are talking about BILLIONS here.) They've tied up the cash. There is nothing to loan or spend or hire. Some kind of apocalypse is simmering, brewing and will come to full boil soon.
We've forgotten "Noblesse Oblige." No, maybe "they've" forgotten. The richest only exist if the populace is okay too. I am afraid the workers of this country will finally rise up and challenge the inequity (and stupidity) displayed by the radical right. I humbly put forward the premise that the radical right is uneducated on the real issues and doesn't understand economics or government. I think the radical right is looking for a demon to blame and does not understand what they stand to lose. They've become pawns. I think that is sad.
Like so many people today, I can't find a job. I work part-time teaching at USC. Yeah, pretty impressive. My primary source of income has always been the theatre. Those jobs have dried up. That means... my husband and I are living on our savings. We are not buying products so are not contributing to the sales tax. We are not paying income tax.. no income, no tax. Can't afford gas. Hmm. Another tax base lost. Foreclosures? No more property tax revenue from those poor folks. Oh, I know, let's tax cigarette smokers! Not too many of us left anymore.
The longer we are all out of work the worse the recession will become. It is self-perpetuating.
Maybe we all need to look to Wisconsin and understand what the fight is really about. The middle-class is in danger of disappearing. Vote Republican if you must, but understand what is really at stake here and how much your party has given away your livelihood.
Oh, and I am a democrat in name only. I vote my conscience. I support us all.
mkk.
We don't need another hero. (I have to ask myself.. another? Who was really the last hero? If you say Reagan, you don't belong here. Go away.)
Life is tough out here outside the 400 people who make the most money in this country. People are scared and voting accordingly because some richer folk think the not rich want to take away the money the richer folk worked so hard to come by. Well, I'm here to tell you, nobody is mad at the just rich folk. We all want to be you. That is part of the American Dream. We are mad at the same people who should infuriate you. Those 400 who hold most of the wealth in this country, control it through congress and contributions and lobbyists and then sit on the cash, are screwing us. They hire domestics and no one else. All other jobs are sent overseas. The tax breaks these richest receive, intended to boost the economy are just ending up in some new version of a savings account. For them. (We are talking about BILLIONS here.) They've tied up the cash. There is nothing to loan or spend or hire. Some kind of apocalypse is simmering, brewing and will come to full boil soon.
We've forgotten "Noblesse Oblige." No, maybe "they've" forgotten. The richest only exist if the populace is okay too. I am afraid the workers of this country will finally rise up and challenge the inequity (and stupidity) displayed by the radical right. I humbly put forward the premise that the radical right is uneducated on the real issues and doesn't understand economics or government. I think the radical right is looking for a demon to blame and does not understand what they stand to lose. They've become pawns. I think that is sad.
Like so many people today, I can't find a job. I work part-time teaching at USC. Yeah, pretty impressive. My primary source of income has always been the theatre. Those jobs have dried up. That means... my husband and I are living on our savings. We are not buying products so are not contributing to the sales tax. We are not paying income tax.. no income, no tax. Can't afford gas. Hmm. Another tax base lost. Foreclosures? No more property tax revenue from those poor folks. Oh, I know, let's tax cigarette smokers! Not too many of us left anymore.
The longer we are all out of work the worse the recession will become. It is self-perpetuating.
Maybe we all need to look to Wisconsin and understand what the fight is really about. The middle-class is in danger of disappearing. Vote Republican if you must, but understand what is really at stake here and how much your party has given away your livelihood.
Oh, and I am a democrat in name only. I vote my conscience. I support us all.
mkk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
