Last night I went to go see my friend and clown partner Julia in a play at Boston Court Theatre in Pasadena. It was a pretty cool show and superb performances. As I walked into the theatre--just as I have been for every show I have ever been to see--I was handed a program. And this morning when I woke up and saw that program on my desk--also just like I have done for every show I have ever been to see--I went to the large, green Rubbermade container in my closet and added the program for Everything You Touch.
You see an odd quirk that I have is that I have saved every single program and playbill from every show I have ever been to see or been a part of. From Newnan High School's production of Peter Pan when I was in kindergarten to Everything You Touch last night. I know that sounds a little obsessive, and I'm not sure exactly how or why it started. Well, obviously it started with Peter Pan, but I mean I don't know when I made a conscious decision to save all of them. A few weeks ago when I saw Book of Mormon, I was even teased a little by my wife and friends because I got one program that used to read and another that I wanted to keep uncreased and flat. I know it's silly. I explained why, and my friend Melissa asked, "Why do you keep them? How often do you ever go back and look through them?"
"About once or twice a year," was my reply, which seemed to be a number that made the idea of keeping them acceptable.
Some of them are signed. I have Jeff Golblum's signature on the original production of Pillowman, Ian McKellan from Dance of Death, Lea Thompson from Cabaret, Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane from the original production of The Producers, and a handful more. Some are quite valuable. I've seen the Lane/Broderick ones going for upwards of $150 on ebay. Some of them aren't signed. I waited for an hour and a half for Kelsey Grammar to sign my MacBeth, and he never came out.
I've of course got all the shows I've ever directed and been in, and the one and only show that I did makeup design for, many of which bring up quite fond memories. Like Servant of Two Masters at the Archway, The Day They Hung the Elephant with Four Clowns, Picasso at the Lapin Agile at NCTC, A Day in the Moonlight at VSU, Complete Works of William Shakespeare Abridged at Seaside Rep, or Beautiful Idiots at GHP. Some have not-so-great memories like Dark Side of the Moon or A Chorus Line. (Chorus Line was not bad, quite good actually. I was just going through a really tough time personally during it). I've also got some great ones from friends' productions: all four times I've seen Frank Ferrante in An Evening with Groucho, Sarah Fineout in Guys and Dolls, Chris Yule in something from San Francisco, every time I've gone to support Julia in something, all of the times I showed up to support my classmates at VSU, the shows at the Archway and NCTC, David Bridel's Trojan Women, the life-changing first time I ever saw Four Clowns, VSU's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream where I first met Bailee.
The thing that's interesting is that despite my fervent defense of myself whenever someone teases me about my collection, whenever I pull that box out and go through it, that once or twice a year, I always think: "Why am I keeping all of these? Why have I carried them to college and all over Florida and Cincinnati and San Francisco and Los Angeles?" The truthful answer is: I don't know. However, there is something cool to me about the idea that when I reach the end of my life--hopefully many many many years from now--I'll have this green piece of over-sized tupperware full of the memories of a life spent in the theatre. A physical and tangible representation of a life spent doing and appreciating the medium of art that I love so much.
That seems like an okay reason.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Colbert to Take Over for Letterman
In honor of CBS's announcement that Stephen Colbert will take over for David Letterman, here is my favorite clip of my favorite Buffon clown:
Monday, April 7, 2014
Servant Reunion
This weekend I was able to join reunion of the cast of the Servant of Two Masters that I directed a couple of years ago. in fact, although we didn't plan it, but it just so happened that we had our reunion exactly two years to the weekend that Servant closed. This was one of the shows I am most proud of directing. It was such a cool and fun production of the show, and this cast was fantastic.
Not only was everyone in the cast a phenomenal performer and clown, everyone was a great person, and we are all still pals. It was nice to get everyone together in one place again, though. Great, great fun.
Not only was everyone in the cast a phenomenal performer and clown, everyone was a great person, and we are all still pals. It was nice to get everyone together in one place again, though. Great, great fun.
2014
2012
The astute among you may notice that I am wearing the exact same thing in both pictures. That is not on purpose, I just don't have a very large wardrobe.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Kino Kabinet Presents Teatro Idiota
Once a month, I curate and evening of clowns on film at the Schkapf Theatre in Hollywood. It's a really fun evening, and hopefully, if you are in the area, you can make it. See details and Facebook invite below:
Teatro Idiota began, basically, as an excuse for people I like to get together and watch hilarious movies and have refreshments. Once a month I host an evening of watching clown movies and movies derived from clown, anything from Chaplin or Keaton to Laurel and Hardy or the Marx Brothers to Looney Tunes to Steve Martin to Will Ferrell. Essentially, anything clown related from the past or present is fair game. I'll have a brief introduction on the background and how it relates to the art of clown, and then afterwards we can have wine and cheese and snacks and a lovely discussion about the movies.
The evenings will be the last Thursday of the month, except this month, which due to a scheduling conflict will be on a Wednesday. If you can't make it to this one, we'll keep you updated on future ones. Here's the skivvy, er skinny, on the March date:
Where: Schkapf Theatre, Hollywood, CA
When: Thursday, April 24, 7:30 pm until not too late, since it is a school night
Admission: 1 bottle of cheap wine (less than $10) or a cheese of some kind. We will all share and have wine and cheese. I'll also provide popcorn and fruit during the movie.
Program: The Warner Bros. short "I Love to Singa" with Steve Martin: The Television Stuff. Steve Martin's work on television in the 70's is some of the greatest clown work you can watch. This evening will curate some hilarious shorts and sketches from Martin's work on his own specials, SNL, and a host of variety shows, some of which hasn't really been seen in 30 years.
Click here for the Facebook invite.
Teatro Idiota began, basically, as an excuse for people I like to get together and watch hilarious movies and have refreshments. Once a month I host an evening of watching clown movies and movies derived from clown, anything from Chaplin or Keaton to Laurel and Hardy or the Marx Brothers to Looney Tunes to Steve Martin to Will Ferrell. Essentially, anything clown related from the past or present is fair game. I'll have a brief introduction on the background and how it relates to the art of clown, and then afterwards we can have wine and cheese and snacks and a lovely discussion about the movies.
The evenings will be the last Thursday of the month, except this month, which due to a scheduling conflict will be on a Wednesday. If you can't make it to this one, we'll keep you updated on future ones. Here's the skivvy, er skinny, on the March date:
Where: Schkapf Theatre, Hollywood, CA
When: Thursday, April 24, 7:30 pm until not too late, since it is a school night
Admission: 1 bottle of cheap wine (less than $10) or a cheese of some kind. We will all share and have wine and cheese. I'll also provide popcorn and fruit during the movie.
Program: The Warner Bros. short "I Love to Singa" with Steve Martin: The Television Stuff. Steve Martin's work on television in the 70's is some of the greatest clown work you can watch. This evening will curate some hilarious shorts and sketches from Martin's work on his own specials, SNL, and a host of variety shows, some of which hasn't really been seen in 30 years.
Click here for the Facebook invite.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Book of Mormon
Last night I had the great pleasure of seeing Book of Mormon at the historic Pantages Theatre at Hollywood/Vine. (A first for me.) At this point the show has been around for so long that one more review is going to mean nothing to anyone. The long and short though is that I thought it was fantastic. It was hilarious. It was irreverent. It involved me and my fellow audience members. It was a great piece of theatre. It's everything about theatre that theatre in 2014 should be.
I was really pleased that even though the show has been around a few years now and everyone I know has seen it, I managed to not know much about the show going in. It was fantastic to, in the age of the internet and spoilers and everything, be able to have that experience again. At first I thought, "Okay, this is going to be fun. Silly. I get it." Then there was this number:
Not my video, nor the cast I saw, just one I found on YouTube. After this number I realized it was just going to be fun. It was going to be spectacular. I had few qualms with any of the performances. For the most part I was wowed by everyone, but for me our Elder McKinley, Pierce Cassedy, was a stand-out. What an amazing performer.
I'm so glad I finally got to have this unbelievable theatrical experience.
I was really pleased that even though the show has been around a few years now and everyone I know has seen it, I managed to not know much about the show going in. It was fantastic to, in the age of the internet and spoilers and everything, be able to have that experience again. At first I thought, "Okay, this is going to be fun. Silly. I get it." Then there was this number:
I'm so glad I finally got to have this unbelievable theatrical experience.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Clown in Art
A Hungarian artist who looks as severe as this...
...is not someone who I would expect to be filled with whimsy, but László Moholy-Nagy is full of surprises.
Here is a work of art that I have long been a fan of. It's a small 10x12 inch work of ink and crayon on paper that proves you can find clown in almost any medium.
I think this is a fine example of clown work in the form of visual art. The more you look at it the more you see the fly and the more the narrative begins to clarify itself in your imagination. It becomes clear that this is physical comedy, slapstick even. I know when I look at it, I immediately smile. On Wikipedia, the definition of slapstick, and I think it's a good one, is comedy "involving exaggerated physical activity which exceeds the boundaries of common sense." Is this not most assuredly that?
Okay, but clown purists will tell me that clown is not just about physical humor. There's vulnerability. There's a connection with the audience. I don't know about you, but the tiny little dots and short lines do show vulnerability to me. You see how the life of this little fly is rife with peril, constantly on the move.
The connection with the audience is the one that confused me at first. Unlike if I were performing as a clown on the stage or in the circus, this is a medium--like Chaplin or Keaton on film--where there cannot be direct eye contact between audience and clown. But for me the moment you learn the title is the moment of connection for the clown and his audience. You go to a museum and see this piece. You walk over to it. It looks interesting. Then you look over next to it and see the title, "Diary of a Fly." In that moment you have a connection with the clown-artist. You can see him giving a sheepish shrugging look as if to say, "Well?" And you think, "Ahhhhaha. I see what you did there."
For me, this little drawing is as much a clown piece as Lorenzo Pisoni climbing the ladder in Humor Abuse. What do you think? Can you find clown in this?
Here is a work of art that I have long been a fan of. It's a small 10x12 inch work of ink and crayon on paper that proves you can find clown in almost any medium.
Okay, but clown purists will tell me that clown is not just about physical humor. There's vulnerability. There's a connection with the audience. I don't know about you, but the tiny little dots and short lines do show vulnerability to me. You see how the life of this little fly is rife with peril, constantly on the move.
The connection with the audience is the one that confused me at first. Unlike if I were performing as a clown on the stage or in the circus, this is a medium--like Chaplin or Keaton on film--where there cannot be direct eye contact between audience and clown. But for me the moment you learn the title is the moment of connection for the clown and his audience. You go to a museum and see this piece. You walk over to it. It looks interesting. Then you look over next to it and see the title, "Diary of a Fly." In that moment you have a connection with the clown-artist. You can see him giving a sheepish shrugging look as if to say, "Well?" And you think, "Ahhhhaha. I see what you did there."
For me, this little drawing is as much a clown piece as Lorenzo Pisoni climbing the ladder in Humor Abuse. What do you think? Can you find clown in this?
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