Questions
Theatre is a forum for culture. Okay, it’s a forum for many things, right? But I’m looking at past patterns in what we’ve done, what we’re gravitated to, what we’re gravitated to to bring into the picture. Why we’ve chosen material like the Marx Brothers, Fitzcarraldo, Napoleon, Chekhov, Henry Fuseli, etc? This is the forum for culture and… reconstruction? Reconstruction vs. deconstruction seems to be the notion of post-postmodernism, or “after postmodernism.” Or not even. Yes, or not.
If we don’t want to think in those terms that is.
I will posit this though: There is viability in reconstruction. Nothing is ever the same when you put it back together again – it’s full of residue (attaching articles) and those are represented in the way a culture or a people behave. We have a responsibility to represent that in our involvement of a contemporary narrative in theatre.
What we are doing with mythology, this has to be explored so that it is something that comes from the group. Why do we use “the familiar” (that is, our own names) in productions? This must be proved or else, I’m not certain I buy it. Or rather, I buy it, but I’m not sure that it will reach its potential until we all recognize the rule and why it does or does not work in the specific instances of the work.
Why enacting mythology is more than just “theatre as hoax.” Or is it just that in essence? Is Frederick Allison a hoax? What about Nikolas Weir? Is this no more than Andy Kaufman theatrics?
Our relationship with the audience is deeply invested in the work from conception – when we work in this fashion (as we are in HOF) then we are enacting this notion of spectator-performance relationship into the work itself. Theory in practice is what we’re after – after all.
The following pages are to act as an entry point to the work. In them I lay out sources we might use, recent influences that respond/react/gravitate to past models and propose ideas and theories that relate to our current practice.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Means of devising: Taking a structure from culture that is documented in a way that could shine light on new possibilities. With Fitzcarraldo (and the other swirling sources) are we Reassembling from the wreckage to find some meaning in the artifacts? To play artifacts. To play original artifacts – the source of artifact. Are we deconstructing a myth only to build a new one? Is it reconstruction via deconstruction? Or none of these?
By having Nikolas Weir’s involvement we are generating an archive that exists only in the world of our imagination. Our performance, not only our delusions, will be stronger and rooted in the reality of the world. It is a world of generosity – also a world accepting of a little madness too. This engagement gives rise to the possibility that a spectator may not even need to attend our show to be a part of the performance – they may never know how they are performing these new myths out. In this way there is the inclusion of accidental audience (see Schechner reference later) into the performance – an accidental audience who doesn’t even have to show up.
Even the phrase, “Have you heard of Nikolas Weir?” then becomes a performative. And after time, a sort of urban legend. (Re: “Smell my Theater: An Interview with Nikolas Weir)
The performer engages as the role of spectator (see Brecht/Boal molestations) in a way that ignores the role of tradition, for the sake of destroying “the sacred.” We destroy the sacred to make way for the profane – but more so, making room for the open palate of the mind. The feeling that this brings about from the audience (and in relation to the actor as well) can be euphoric, rhythm-changing, and potentially life altering. A willingness to accept one’s imagination for positive change…what that could possibly do? Unified joy. Not over any belief, but in the event of a performance for and with an audience.
We worked with what we called Attaching Articles in Money Buckets.
Attaching Articles = Riffs, commentaries, shoots and ladders of the “reconstructed narrative” = hope?
A narrative that has room – both physical room (the space of the theatre, the space outside) and textual room (rules, attaching articles, lost & founds, etc).
Means of Devising:
1. Interviews with key figures: From Fitzcarraldo, Buran Company, or the collective consciousness (i.e. Doctors Who Only See Other Doctors, Nikolas Weir, etc).
2. What does the hi-jacked story of Fitzcarraldo via Buran mean in a large context? Social/cultural/artistic responsibility. (Responsibility in the same respect that Money Buckets was a call and response to “Financial Crisis”, Great Recession, etc. Does Fitzcarraldo call and respond to, oh, say- the Oil in the Ocean?)
3. Metaphors: Dreams. What do these large metaphors mean? Carrying a ship up and over a mountain. Burial. Discovery. Rediscovery. Uselessness. Useless dreams.
4. Characters, theoretically, are unconscious of narrative – audience constructs narrative. The story, the plot, the happening, the event (whatever wish to call it) is not aware (although, often, as it has been in the past, in a Burancentric narrative, everyone is aware that “this thing is happening.”)
Getting to the place pre-narrative: what happens prior to the narrative that makes the narrative innocent as it occurs. Autobiography is a key to discover this. – Lisa Kron
5. Creation of rules in the construction of narrative.
Rule #1: Do not start the show until someone leaves.
Or
Rule: (from a design perspective) The stage is lit only with practical lights.
The rules dictate the direction of the narrative, what gets used and what gets thrown to the wayside depending on the make up of participants. (Spectators then, even unknowingly, become active. Push the button, the timer goes off, which vibrates the egg, which rolls and lands on the lever which results in an action from the performer on stage. So: Stand up and leave and the show starts. Participants find their equilibrium within the narrative and recognize their pivotal role in the action. It is like the old improv game Psychiatrist.)
6. Myth: How we use myth and history. There is only mythology – history is the attempt to believe that it is really true. Once something is told it only becomes more and more mythologized. Creating new mythologies (i.e. opportunities) for the community of spectators. “Buran was witness to Herzog’s filming!” “Buran at birth of Baby Jesus – That Was No Virgin!”
7. Personalities of the individuals: Pulling character traits from individuals in the group. What do we bring to ourselves as actors? What is inherently special/uncommon/specific to what we bring when we’re on stage? (Sometimes a body on stage is enough to make a performance out of.)
Our retreat week will be spent unpacking many of these notions in the work itself. The “devising schedule” (which you will be receiving shortly) will attempt to address all of these ideas in generating the material for performance.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spectators Playing the Game of Theatre
Since we’ll be working with source texts in film, I’d like to use Andre Bazin’s What is Cinema? as a text for us to consider – to at least consider and then throw away. He compares theatre and cinema with great articulation and presents some ideas that may be useful in our working with film as source materials. The ‘problems’ he states, especially in relation to the presence of the actor and the conditions of décor in relation to the spectator, can be taken back to our past work with spectatorship via performance and the problems we face in creating a work that performs before, during and after the event of show. Of particular interest: his criticisms that we have found solvable, or at least approaching them in a solvable manner, in performance – particularly, bridging the individual experience of watching a film in the dark and being a part of the community of “others” at the theater. Some choice quotes (put in context as best as I can):
“Strictly speaking one could make a play out of Madame Bovary or The Brothers Karamazov. But had the plays come first it would be impossible to derive from them the novels as we know them. In other words, when the drama is so much a part of the novel that it cannot be taken from it, reciprocally the novel can only be the result of a process of induction which in the arts means purely and simply a new creation. Compared with the play, the novel is only one of the many possible syntheses derivable from the simple dramatic element” (pg 83).
“There is no such thing as a ‘slice of life’ in the theater. In any case, the mere fact that it is exposed to view on the stage removes it from everyday existence and turns it into something seen as it were in a shop window. It is in a measure part of the natural order but it is profoundly modified by the conditions under which we observe it” (89).
“The camera is at last a spectator and nothing else. It was indeed Cocteau who said that cinema is an event seen through a keyhole. The impression we get here from the keyhole is one of an invasion of privacy, the quasi-obscenity of viewing….the viewpoint of the spectator, the one denominator common to the stage and screen” (93).
“What is specific to theatre is the impossibility of separating off action and actor. Elsewhere the stage welcomes every illusion except that of presence; the actor is there in disguise, with the soul and voice of another, but he is nevertheless there and by the same token space calls out for him and for the solidity of his presence. On the other hand and inversely, the cinema accommodates every form of reality save one – the physical presence of the actor.” From Henri Gouhier’s The Essence of Theater
“The cinema calms the spectator, the theatre excites him. Even when it appeals to the lowest instincts, the theater up to a certain point stands in the way of the creation of a mentality. It stands in the way of any collective representation in the psychological sense, since theater calls for an active individual consciousness where the film requires only a passive adhesion” (pg.98).
“The theater is indeed based on the reciprocal awareness of the presence of the audience and the actor, but only as related to a performance. The theater acts on us by virtue of our participation in a theatrical action across the footlights and as it were under the protection of their censorship. The opposite is true in the cinema. Alone, hidden in the dark room, we watch through half-open blinds a spectacle that is unaware of our existence and which is part of the universe. There is nothing to prevent us from indentifying ourselves in the imagination with the moving world before us, which becomes the world. It is no longer on the phenomenon of the actor as a person physically present that we should concentrate our analysis, but rather on the ensemble of conditions that constitute the theatrical play and deprive the spectator active participation…it is much less a question of actor and presence than of man and his relation to the décor” (102).
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mission Statement
For our new project we are invested in what anthropologist John MacAloon calls cultural performance, “occasions in which as a culture or society we reflect upon and define ourselves, dramatize our collective myths and history, and present ourselves with alternatives.” In a technological age we tend to forget before we remember. With this ease of information - from applications on mobile “telephones” to Wikipedia - we become so overwhelmed by these constant technological developments that the site of a live body in performance has become an endangered species of expression. Our methodology of performance brings a significant amount of agency to both performer and spectator. Money Buckets!, directly or indirectly (for me, directly, but I knew what I was doing [the matter of 50/50 – the half who get and the half who do not]) confronted the fears of Americans in the midst of a financial crisis with the use of a “lost and found” Marx Brothers screenplay.
We do no choosing. In this cultural exchange we do not call out to any group, any section, any race, any creed, any sex– we call out to everyone. Because we’re all in this together. In this way we are able to incorporate a cross section of spectators who attend our performances and will return again to see the live body in performance. Even with Bournijka the Boxer, a performance piece focusing heavily on Polish immigrants in America and the resulting progeny, it would be appropriate if it were not just a Polish-American audience, but rather an audience of Americans who all come from some place else. This is what engenders a performative, what cultural geographer Catherine Nash writes as “…developing a new theoretical vocabulary of performance and… exploring the imaginative and material geographies of cultural performativity and embodiment.” Each time we work together it is about constructing a new language specific the work itself – the language often comes from the work.
We seek new audiences for a new structure, one that approaches the event of performance as the possibility for inclusion, one that performs before and after entering the venue. Richard Schechner writes about liminal spaces in performance, noting that within this space “for a brief time two groups merge into one dancing circle. During this liminal time/place communitas is possible – that leveling of all differences...then and only then can the exchange take place.” Explore these liminal spaces within the event of performance by creating immediate familiarity within performance between spectator and actor. The over-arching goal of the project is to continue to find specific means to engage the spectator’s role in a variety of modes via the event of performance. What if this exchange to be taking place before the recognized beginning. A familiarity engendered in marketing and mindset – that suspension of disbelief by all participants: beginning with the creators?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
RADIOHOLE:
A contemporary counterpart, Whatever Heaven Allows
They go back and fix botched cues while they're doing something else! They dance, they fall, they get up again. Kourtney Rutherford plays a deer. I have no idea what these people are doing. I had a blast.
– David Johnston, Nytheatre.com
In March 2010 I witnessed New York based performance group Radiohole and their newest piece Whatever Heaven Allows (WHA!?), which was a mash up of the Douglas Sirk film All That Heaven Allows, John Milton’s Paradise Lost and Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s homage to the Sirk film, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. This mash up was by far the most exhilarating night I have had in the theatre (at least in recent memory) and it answered a lot of the calls we have been putting out, questions we have been positing in regards to the approach Buran has taken to the relationship between performance events and contemporary audiences. As with past models – Chuck Mee, Augusto Boal, LaMaMa, Complicite, The Anthropologists - written about in “Bringing Back the Spectator” and “Sustained Applause,” I’m interested in finding collectives who seem be investigating works near the same region of language. Radiohole spends a year devising each of their works (not something we’re going to have time to do for HOF) but citing them here is important as we continue to create work and reflect on the work of our contemporary counterparts, as
Growing up around community theatre the phrase was often heard, “The audience is stupid. They don’t know anything.” What I’ve come to appreciate more and more is the notion that the audience knows more, much more than we’ve ever given them credit for. I can assure you that 75% of the audience at the Radiohole show had little to no exposure to any of the source material. Their enjoyment was not dictated on their intellectual understanding of the happening, but rather in the complicity shared with the performers. The most unlikely spectator even, it would seem. A film buff friend of mine, who often finds experimental theatre as masturbatory and indulgent, was elated as his involvement with the production. He knew all the references and was delighted that he was one of the few who had that luxury. So I asked him, “What was it about then?” “Oh,” he said. “That? I have no clue about that.” My other friend, who was sandwiched between us, had no previous exposure to any of the material, and although a little baffled, left with a grin on his face with a radiating enthusiasm.
Radiohole’s confidence, a confidence has been bred during the twelve years they’ve been creating work together, comes across in how they share the material. By taking culture’s high brow and turning it upside (and vice versa), for instance, Douglas Sirk’s symbolism is turned over on itself into a chain-smoking deer, pissing on stage – the final image we’re left with – in this, we trust both Radiohole’s intellect and savvy, but more importantly and their lack of respect, their recklessness, and general theatrical rowdiness. There need be no narrative or explanation, their involvement and participation as creators opens up the possibility for free range. They can go anywhere as long as they know the rules. In their devising, Radiohole is concerned with letting everyone have a voice in the show -not worrying so much about narrative, but rather, making sure that it’s honest and funny. One rule that seems to subsist in all productions is their constant awareness of the theatrical and their audience. Founding member Eric Dyer said to the Brooklyn Rail in 2007, “It’s hard not to be aware of the audience in our space. You sort of have to be. Why pretend they are not there? People in the audience are alive, responding to events, acting and reacting while they experience the work. So are we. We can share that.”
The use of the “familiar”, as we have come to call it with Buran, is used in surprising and illuminating ways in their work as well. The actor is 1) the actor, then, 2) a character or an amalgamation of characters on stage in space in time and, finally, 3). the actor as the actor as the character in space and time commenting directly, or indirectly, on themselves, with one another, and the narrative with the audience. In Money Buckets! we used the Attaching Articles to achieve this. Radiohole delineates in fast movements – all of a sudden there is a karaoke number and then jello shots and then a large sloppy choreographed dance number all churning in their constructed chaotic world. In a scene from Whatever Heaven Allows, actress Maggie Hoffman breaks from the action and steps back, watches Eric Dyer and then turns to the audience saying, “Eric’s depressed because he thinks the show sucks.” She shrugs and jumps back into the manic, PBR-chugging, jello-shot throwing, sweaty adrenaline fueled hour and forty-five minutes that is Whatever Heaven Allows. Near the final moments of the show Hoffman announces, “This is where the drama that Radiohole won't deliver happens.”
What might be explored in devising for House of Fitzcarraldo is to find a means to bring the performer, the character, and the doer onstage. Not only are we constructing a piece (a set to perform on – if only for a brief time), but we are constructing the performance of a performance. Nick Kostner sits on stage in the corner, when there is a light shift he pulls a large lever down to indicate that lighting is going to change.
Perhaps Justin yells at him “LIGHT CHANGE!”
But making the mechanics a part of the action and the performance of mechanics (or broken mechanics) – this too could be a rule.
For what little time we have in the devising, I think the notion of rules might service us very well.
Want to address briefly what Richard Schechner refers to as Accidental audiences vs. integral audiences.
An integral audience: being most of the folks who come to our shows because they know someone in it, they’ve seen our work before or they typically go see theatre as an activity. This includes the theatre community at large – which is what makes up 80%, or more, of an audience: theatre folks going to see theatre (doctors who only see other doctors). What is rarer is the accidental audience, who attends voluntarily. The difference being, as Schechner writes, “…an accidentally audience comes ‘to see the show’ while an integral audience is ‘necessary to accomplish the work of the show.’ ” We have talked long and hard about this accidental audience and our desire to perform work for “non-theatre crowds.” The notion of performance as a means to change rhythms, engender spectatorship from a varying perspective than traditional theatre and bring together new audiences for a narrative structure that includes them.
Here, this might be illuminating, or not:
"…the accidental audience pays closer attention than does an integral audience. This is for four reasons: 1) the accidental audience chooses to attend, has often paid to attend; 2) its members attend as individuals or in small clusters so that large crowd action is unlikely – each spectator or small group is a stranger among strangers; 3) An integral audience often knows what’s going on – and not paying attention to it all is a way of showing off the knowledge. . .4) Sometimes the duration of a performance is so long that it isn’t possible to pay attention throughout. Performances for accidental audiences are designed to fit convenient time-slots; ritual performances allow for audiences to demonstrate their devotion by pilgrimage, duration and/or ordeals." - Schechner
So something like a television broadcast is intended for accidental audiences, even if it does have its integral audience who watches every week. How can a performance be both ritualistic in its treatment of the material and the spectator (inclusive in its exclusivity [that is, the use of the familiar]) and still have room for the accidental audience?
Absolutely rhetorical there, because, certainly, I have some ideas…but I know only as much as the question.
I think the answer to this lies in the construction of the piece.
One more chunk of a quote from Schechner on selective inattention in relation to spectator/performer relationships:
The graded and sometimes relaxed inattention of the performers allows for a subtle infiltration of their everyday lives into the dramatic reality of the performance. Some critics consider this mixture a serious breach of convention. I insist on it for several reasons: it is like the readiness of athletes not only on the sidelines but on the field before a play or a down; it shows the double person of the performer, the “myself” and the “person-of-the-character”; it serves as a bridge between the audience and the performers. Some spectators are disturbed by the “lack of energy” of this kind of performing. But when an engaged action occurs, the energy resources, not having been squandered, can be spent more powerfully. Some spectators find themselves falling into parallel rhythms of focused attention and selective inattention. As their attention “wanders” people begin picking up on events and images that would otherwise escape notice, or be merely blurred side visions: movements of spectators, gestures of performers not at the center of the scene, overall arrangement an dynamics of space. The performance can be contemplated; the spectator can choose to be in or out, moving her attention up and down a sliding scale of involvement. Selective inattention allows patterns of the whole to be visible, patterns that otherwise would be burned out of consciousness by a too intense concentration…through selective inattention spectators co-create the work with the performer. - Richard Schechner, Performance Theory
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Burden of Dreams
Val and I watched "Burden of Dreams" last night. We jotted down some notes throughout the screening. Here are a few...
Mick Jagger?!!
"To act in front of a camera gives me physical pleasure." Jose Lewgoy, Brazilian film actor
Rubber trees, they really bleed rubber...can we do that on stage?
Filmmakers suffer death threats from the Peruvian natives
"There's no action, no action. I'm sitting here satisfied!"
Herzog insists on shooting at the "magic hour"
"We'll be stark naked at the end...like skyscrapers." -referencing the continued loss of natives and culture
Natives involved in the film suffer arrow attacks through the throat.
Many film assistants were lost.
"I'm running out of fantasy!" -Herzog
HUGE ARROWS! The natives are playing a game called "arrow catching", aiming them directly at each others' heads. Herzog nabs one as a keepsake. His little son will be excited that it went through a man.
"Gringos will take off your face."
"Everyday life is only an illusion behind which lies the reality of dreams."
Yuca plant makes alcohol called, masato, and it is a big food source.
Kinski breaks a native's arrow, "It doesn't matter. They'll make another one."
An engineer tells Herzog that there is a 30% chance of success at getting the boat over the hill, and that it's probable many men will die. Herzog decides to it's a go!
No alcohol + no soccer ball=tension
"Can't escape off this fucking, stinking camp." -Kinski
Peruvian priests advised Herzog to bring in prostitutes for the film crew. Keep them from sleeping with the natives.
"The people here are in misery...the birds are in misery. They screech in pain."-Herzog
"It's a land...if he exists, God created in anger."
"We in comparison...we sound and look like badly pronounced sentences out of a cheap suburban novel."
"It's not that I hate it...I love it..."
"The only difference between me and you is that I can articulate them." Herzog on dreams.
Val and I decide we want to see Adam as Herzog and Justin as Kinski.
Mick Jagger?!!
"To act in front of a camera gives me physical pleasure." Jose Lewgoy, Brazilian film actor
Rubber trees, they really bleed rubber...can we do that on stage?
Filmmakers suffer death threats from the Peruvian natives
"There's no action, no action. I'm sitting here satisfied!"
Herzog insists on shooting at the "magic hour"
"We'll be stark naked at the end...like skyscrapers." -referencing the continued loss of natives and culture
Natives involved in the film suffer arrow attacks through the throat.
Many film assistants were lost.
"I'm running out of fantasy!" -Herzog
HUGE ARROWS! The natives are playing a game called "arrow catching", aiming them directly at each others' heads. Herzog nabs one as a keepsake. His little son will be excited that it went through a man.
"Gringos will take off your face."
"Everyday life is only an illusion behind which lies the reality of dreams."
Yuca plant makes alcohol called, masato, and it is a big food source.
Kinski breaks a native's arrow, "It doesn't matter. They'll make another one."
An engineer tells Herzog that there is a 30% chance of success at getting the boat over the hill, and that it's probable many men will die. Herzog decides to it's a go!
No alcohol + no soccer ball=tension
"Can't escape off this fucking, stinking camp." -Kinski
Peruvian priests advised Herzog to bring in prostitutes for the film crew. Keep them from sleeping with the natives.
"The people here are in misery...the birds are in misery. They screech in pain."-Herzog
"It's a land...if he exists, God created in anger."
"We in comparison...we sound and look like badly pronounced sentences out of a cheap suburban novel."
"It's not that I hate it...I love it..."
"The only difference between me and you is that I can articulate them." Herzog on dreams.
Val and I decide we want to see Adam as Herzog and Justin as Kinski.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Cotton Plantation: Audience Response
This is the official post for THE COTTON PLANTATION workshop production. If you came and saw the workshop and have thoughts, comments, responses, insults, etc. - feel free to post them here and if you have any questions, we will do our best to respond.
As we said at the workshop, we have high hopes for the future of this play and we are so blessed that you were able to attend and be a part of the groundwork.
As we said at the workshop, we have high hopes for the future of this play and we are so blessed that you were able to attend and be a part of the groundwork.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The look we wish to live under
I just finished reading Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I have to admit, throughout the entire novel, I debated whether I liked either of the main characters, Tomas or Tereza. To be honest, I debated back and forth how much respect I had for any of the characters as people. I'm not sure that this is grounds for disliking the novel. I don't dislike it. Actually, as I neared the end, a section of it stood out to me as Buran relevant. Perhaps relevant as we consider ourselves, our audience, and the characters we discover and develop. What do we think of his analysis?
Part 6: The Grand March, Chapter 23, pages 269-271
"We all need someone to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under.
The first category longs for the look of an infinite number of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public...
The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known eyes. They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners. They are happier than the people in the first category, who, when they lose their public, have the feeling that the lights have gone out in the room of their lives. This happens to nearly all of them sooner or later. People in the second category, on the other hand, can always come up with the eyes they need...
Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes of the person they love. Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first category. One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark...
And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present. They are the dreamers...
Tomas's son belongs in the same category...The eyes he longed for were Tomas's. As a result of his embroilment in the petition campaign, he was expelled from the university. The girl he had been going out with was the niece of a village priest. He married her, became a tractor driver on a collective farm, a practicing Catholic, and a father. When he learned that Tomas, too, was living in the country, he was thrilled: fate had made their lives symmetrical! This encouraged him to write Tomas a letter. He did not ask him to write back. He only wanted him to focus his eyes on his life."
Part 6: The Grand March, Chapter 23, pages 269-271
"We all need someone to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under.
The first category longs for the look of an infinite number of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public...
The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known eyes. They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners. They are happier than the people in the first category, who, when they lose their public, have the feeling that the lights have gone out in the room of their lives. This happens to nearly all of them sooner or later. People in the second category, on the other hand, can always come up with the eyes they need...
Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes of the person they love. Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first category. One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark...
And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present. They are the dreamers...
Tomas's son belongs in the same category...The eyes he longed for were Tomas's. As a result of his embroilment in the petition campaign, he was expelled from the university. The girl he had been going out with was the niece of a village priest. He married her, became a tractor driver on a collective farm, a practicing Catholic, and a father. When he learned that Tomas, too, was living in the country, he was thrilled: fate had made their lives symmetrical! This encouraged him to write Tomas a letter. He did not ask him to write back. He only wanted him to focus his eyes on his life."
Friday, April 16, 2010
Fitzcarraldo Writings
The Explorer: I’ve come to believe in the world’s complete and absolute disinterest in me.
Disembodied Voice: Disinterest?
The Explorer: You’re already questioning my word choice. I see where this is going. No! No no no no, not disinterest. Indifference. I see, I see. The world does not have and does not not have interest. Nameless and faceless. I know I am not alone in thinking this way. From all I have seen. And I have seen most of it.
Disembodied Voice: Iquitos?
The Explore: Iquitos. Rome. So on.
I've even been here before.
I rise. No. I am risen. My body is risen above the Lady City and I see her, as I so often imagines others do from a distance, in longing. But I’ve been lifted, lifted from being in and amongst it.
There, and there she lies. With her wide hips and thin, strappy legs, her luscious hair hanging in curls against her arching back – her tummy (her stomach), oh, like a ballerina - pushed forward ever so slightly, held, protruding to suggest contour inside her silver brown grey dress. I reached out to touch her and I am swirled, as if under the influence of a hallucinogenic. I swirl upside down and then twirl back to see her again from a distance. Each time I try to reach out I am taken up and over again. Twirling and twirling. Each reach, I am thrown back up and over myself.
When I land, drunk from my rising, I again am amongst her, in her, and the fervor of loving her but a memory. A memory that had this sort of name: of seeing her at a distance and realizing the Accomplishment in Mounting Her. But the fever remains: knowing what I had seen. Once inside the confines of the Lady City, oh her parallel lines, her spinning wheels, her smoke fumes, and the intersecting sections of the beautiful and wretched: I knew that my dream must be a reality, one I could acheive. To fly with her, this inhumane love of mine, This Lady City: Or I would go absolutely mad.
-------------
I am hearing something and responding to it. I see a man with a cap who they call The Explorer, or maybe they don't call him that, maybe that's what we call him? We know him as the The Explorer, everyone else knows him as Stub.
-Adam
Disembodied Voice: Disinterest?
The Explorer: You’re already questioning my word choice. I see where this is going. No! No no no no, not disinterest. Indifference. I see, I see. The world does not have and does not not have interest. Nameless and faceless. I know I am not alone in thinking this way. From all I have seen. And I have seen most of it.
Disembodied Voice: Iquitos?
The Explore: Iquitos. Rome. So on.
I've even been here before.
I rise. No. I am risen. My body is risen above the Lady City and I see her, as I so often imagines others do from a distance, in longing. But I’ve been lifted, lifted from being in and amongst it.
There, and there she lies. With her wide hips and thin, strappy legs, her luscious hair hanging in curls against her arching back – her tummy (her stomach), oh, like a ballerina - pushed forward ever so slightly, held, protruding to suggest contour inside her silver brown grey dress. I reached out to touch her and I am swirled, as if under the influence of a hallucinogenic. I swirl upside down and then twirl back to see her again from a distance. Each time I try to reach out I am taken up and over again. Twirling and twirling. Each reach, I am thrown back up and over myself.
When I land, drunk from my rising, I again am amongst her, in her, and the fervor of loving her but a memory. A memory that had this sort of name: of seeing her at a distance and realizing the Accomplishment in Mounting Her. But the fever remains: knowing what I had seen. Once inside the confines of the Lady City, oh her parallel lines, her spinning wheels, her smoke fumes, and the intersecting sections of the beautiful and wretched: I knew that my dream must be a reality, one I could acheive. To fly with her, this inhumane love of mine, This Lady City: Or I would go absolutely mad.
-------------
I am hearing something and responding to it. I see a man with a cap who they call The Explorer, or maybe they don't call him that, maybe that's what we call him? We know him as the The Explorer, everyone else knows him as Stub.
-Adam
Friday, April 9, 2010
Committing to the Asinine
Reading Werner Herzog's CONQUEST OF THE USELESS, the journal he kept while filming Fitzcarraldo, and I am struck by this notion of obsession. An image or idea that stays with us that we must complete, despite its obvious uselessness or riduculous nature. See, like Nikolas Weir, I hold the notion that it is commiting to the asinine and once you have committed, it doesn't matter - your commitment will create something important, significant, and as we always talk about, rhythm changing.
More to come as we digest all this material....
More to come as we digest all this material....
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The House of Fitzcarraldo Project
The source materials, as it now stands for THE HOUSE OF FITZCARRALDO, include the following:
CONQUESTS OF THE USELESS -Werner Herzog
ALL I NEED IS LOVE - Klaus Kinski
THE CINEMA OF WERNER HERZOG- Brad Prager
FITZCARRALDO: THE ORIGINAL STORY -Werner Herzog
The following films:
FITZCARRALDO- Herzog
BURDEN OF DREAMS
MY BEST FIEND: KLAUS KINSKI
The following songs:
"Fitzcarraldo" - The Frames
"Sudsy" - James Brown
The Cheesy Theme song from the film Fitzcarraldo
"To Dream the Impossible Dream" from Man of LaMancha (I see an frustrated and sweaty Brady Blevins trying to belt this at the audience with such anger.)
ENTRY 1:
Chapter 1 & 2 from Klaus Kinsk's memoir All I Need is Love.
Klaus Kinski's memoir is asinine. (Il ike that word. If anything this project is a study in the commital to the asinine.) I have read numerous reviews that suggest the entire book is a lie, a flight of fancy. But in reading it, how could it be anything but? His ridiculous, often grotesquely fantastic images, as a disgustingly poor child in 1930's Germany - bringing up rancid images of shit-water baths in the street, biting off the notes of a scroungy deranged mutt,sexual encoutners with his mother and sister. And later in his life, the constant and brutal sexual encounters with EVERY single woman he meets.
I do not see these as some longing perversion on his part, at least it's not as interesting as what I want to think: that it is not some more deeply rooted metaphor for his insanity in this ficticious memoir.
He writes: "My mother takes everything off in front of me. Her panties, too. Then she goes to the bed. 'Come to me,' is all she says.' For three days bombs blow the house all around to pieces."
Thris trim paragraph that closes Chapter 1 took my breath away.
These sexual trists are metaphors for the extremes he lived, whether real or imagined. This is what fascinates me so much about this larger than life individual - this man that Werner Herzog made a documentary about, My Best Fiend.
For instance, he on the battlefield during WWII for two days before he was taken as a prisoner of war - his memoir does not reflect this truth, or untruth. We get a story of him wandering aimlessly on the German front, trying to eat a live cow, and yes, fucking nearly everyone he comes in contact with.
Does truth really matter at all?
It is as if he is truly making it up as he goes along. I wish I could commit to my imagination in this way - without censor, any kind of censor in the representation on a thing.
These lies, these constructions, these imagined realities are of him. We are not seeing the man, we are seeing of the man I believe.
Some quotes that have stood out in the first two chapters that might find their way on stage:
"A person might think that I only lie around in bed and pass my time fucking. -That's not true. I often seclude myself from other people for weeks at a time, lock myself into my room, and don't even go out onto the street. During this time I do my voice exercises, ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours a day. Or all night."
-"What an honor," teases the meat inspector, making his rounds in the clinic, "to have such a great actor with us." I kick him in the balls.
-Why am I a whore? I need love! Always! And I want to give love, because I have so much of it to give. No one understands that I want nothing from my whoring arond but to love.
-I have to paint. I must express myself. Not like actors and pensioners or politicians do. It's mania. Obsession. An urgency, just like a pregnant woman having to give birth...I know that everything about life is erotic, everything that lives. I sculpt as well. Then I smash and tear everything up and burn it all.
-I never think of death. I haven't even begun to live.
Wow.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Pepsi Refresh Project
Last month Buran submitted a proposal to the Pepsi Refresh Project and today we were given approval! The Pepsi Refresh Project awards 10 projects $5,000 to get an inspired idea off the ground. Our submission "Involve Community via the production of a new performance" is now up on their website for voting.
If we get into the top ten we will be awarded $5,000 towards our 2010 Summer programming in north-east Kansas, which includes workshops conducted by company members free of charge to the community, weekly performances in Lawrence and Kansas City during the month of July and a full production to play in Topeka (venue TBA), Kansas City (Fringe Festival) and Lawrence (Lawrence Art Center) from July 22-August 6th.
Vote now at:
http://www.refresheverything.com/burantheatre?utm_source=email&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=good_luck
Pass this on to anyone you know who wants to help Buran!
Onward and upward!
Adam
Critical Acclaim for Buran
For Money Buckets!:
“The highlight of the festival. Pleasantly surprised and frequently stunned. . .an audacious act of creativity. It deserves to be seen.” - Robert Trussell, Kansas City Star
“The jewel in the crown of the Fringe Festival...flawless.” - Greg Boyle, KC Active
“Outstanding and seamless performances by the talented cast.” - KC Stage
For Meile be Akcento:
“A standing ovation and a sea of flowers for the actors showed that Meilė be Akcento placed the accents right where they needed to be. ‘A show is alive while it is still being talked about and while an audience is coming to the theatre,’ - said Vytenis Pauliukaitis. It seems that after the premiere of Meile be Akcento the audience will continue to come.” - Dina Sergijenko, Straipsniai
For Nightmares:
“Grand in scope...for what feels like a grand finale, [Buran] is digging where psychological horror and art history meet academic satire .” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly
For A Greater Release:
“With a cast of more than 15 actors...gives the audience something to think about while not neglecting the duty of entertaining. In short, [Buran] means to accomplish, all at once, all the things that professional theaters have such a hard time managing piecemeal.” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly
If we get into the top ten we will be awarded $5,000 towards our 2010 Summer programming in north-east Kansas, which includes workshops conducted by company members free of charge to the community, weekly performances in Lawrence and Kansas City during the month of July and a full production to play in Topeka (venue TBA), Kansas City (Fringe Festival) and Lawrence (Lawrence Art Center) from July 22-August 6th.
Vote now at:
http://www.refresheverything.com/burantheatre?utm_source=email&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=good_luck
Pass this on to anyone you know who wants to help Buran!
Onward and upward!
Adam
Critical Acclaim for Buran
For Money Buckets!:
“The highlight of the festival. Pleasantly surprised and frequently stunned. . .an audacious act of creativity. It deserves to be seen.” - Robert Trussell, Kansas City Star
“The jewel in the crown of the Fringe Festival...flawless.” - Greg Boyle, KC Active
“Outstanding and seamless performances by the talented cast.” - KC Stage
For Meile be Akcento:
“A standing ovation and a sea of flowers for the actors showed that Meilė be Akcento placed the accents right where they needed to be. ‘A show is alive while it is still being talked about and while an audience is coming to the theatre,’ - said Vytenis Pauliukaitis. It seems that after the premiere of Meile be Akcento the audience will continue to come.” - Dina Sergijenko, Straipsniai
For Nightmares:
“Grand in scope...for what feels like a grand finale, [Buran] is digging where psychological horror and art history meet academic satire .” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly
For A Greater Release:
“With a cast of more than 15 actors...gives the audience something to think about while not neglecting the duty of entertaining. In short, [Buran] means to accomplish, all at once, all the things that professional theaters have such a hard time managing piecemeal.” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Dreaming can be a Fact in our Life
I’ve been watching a lot of documentaries lately. I blame my unlimited membership to Netflix and the instant play option for these late night sojourns into the fascinating lives of others. [Netflix directs me to "Understated Biographical Documentaries" every time I sign in.] I’ve particularly been fanatical about Werner Herzog as I’m in the midst of taking notes for a project centered on his intense hateful love affair with actor Klaus Kinski.
Werner Herzog and Klaus Kinski on set.
What I find most fascinating about the figures documented in these films, whether it’s Phillipe Petit in Man on Wire or Klaus Kinski in My Best Fiend, is the desire to achieve the impossible – to dream wholeheartedly, to believe in its possibility and to actually live that dream, whether or not it’s being recognized, supported or funded.
Philip Glass says in Glass: A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Parts, “People say, ‘I feel like I’m dreaming.’ And the reason they feel like they’re dreaming is because they are. Dreaming can be a fact in our life.”
Dreaming can be a FACT in our life.
Yes, I certainly agree with this. I will be the first to admit that 90% of my day is spent dreaming and acting out upon those dreams.
The notion of dreaming the impossible has always drawn me in. I say time and time again in rehearsals, a notion I garnered from someone else I am sure (I won’t claim credit), that our job as artists is to stage what seemed impossible. When I write stage directions I purposely write movements that cannot possibly be achieved on the stage – at least with the budgets Buran and companies similar to us are dealing with.
I’m intrigued and fascinated to see where this impossible movement will lead. I want the canvas to be as big and as sloppy as possible, with the hope that there might be some poetics in there. If not, there is the honest confrontation when meeting the impossibility of your ideas.
For instance, from Bournijka the Boxer (which will be premiering here in NYC in less than three weeks!):
BOURNIJKA comes out jabbing and punching.
ADAM goes in for a big old kiss – tongue prepped and all.
Bournijka punches Adam square in the face before the kiss can land.
Adam flies across the stage and OFF.
I see this as Adam literally being punched into the air and flying off the stage. This is the only moment this happens in the script. At no other moment does Adam FLY off stage. A literary manager, I am almost certain, would look at this and immediately, “No. I don’t think so.” Am I being stubborn for keeping this in the text? Is my constant day-dreaming deluding me?
I don’t think that’s even worth considering.
I feel very lucky to be the fool. The one with his head in the clouds and feet planted and scuffling about and around the stage.
The title track to Paul Simon’s album Rhythm of The Saints has the following chorus:
Reach in the darkness
A reach in the dark
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To glide away from the razor or a knife
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To dominate the impossible in your life
Dominating the impossible can only be accomplished by an act – and for me, at least, that act has always found itself achievable on the stage. As asinine as it may seem, I have no interest in staging something I have seen before, I want to tear apart and reconfigure the canvas each time.
How do your dreams manifest? Your aspirations? Your visions of a potential future that involve more participants than your own consciousness?
I want to know.
Onward and upward!
-Adam
Werner Herzog and Klaus Kinski on set.
What I find most fascinating about the figures documented in these films, whether it’s Phillipe Petit in Man on Wire or Klaus Kinski in My Best Fiend, is the desire to achieve the impossible – to dream wholeheartedly, to believe in its possibility and to actually live that dream, whether or not it’s being recognized, supported or funded.
Philip Glass says in Glass: A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Parts, “People say, ‘I feel like I’m dreaming.’ And the reason they feel like they’re dreaming is because they are. Dreaming can be a fact in our life.”
Dreaming can be a FACT in our life.
Yes, I certainly agree with this. I will be the first to admit that 90% of my day is spent dreaming and acting out upon those dreams.
The notion of dreaming the impossible has always drawn me in. I say time and time again in rehearsals, a notion I garnered from someone else I am sure (I won’t claim credit), that our job as artists is to stage what seemed impossible. When I write stage directions I purposely write movements that cannot possibly be achieved on the stage – at least with the budgets Buran and companies similar to us are dealing with.
I’m intrigued and fascinated to see where this impossible movement will lead. I want the canvas to be as big and as sloppy as possible, with the hope that there might be some poetics in there. If not, there is the honest confrontation when meeting the impossibility of your ideas.
For instance, from Bournijka the Boxer (which will be premiering here in NYC in less than three weeks!):
BOURNIJKA comes out jabbing and punching.
ADAM goes in for a big old kiss – tongue prepped and all.
Bournijka punches Adam square in the face before the kiss can land.
Adam flies across the stage and OFF.
I see this as Adam literally being punched into the air and flying off the stage. This is the only moment this happens in the script. At no other moment does Adam FLY off stage. A literary manager, I am almost certain, would look at this and immediately, “No. I don’t think so.” Am I being stubborn for keeping this in the text? Is my constant day-dreaming deluding me?
I don’t think that’s even worth considering.
I feel very lucky to be the fool. The one with his head in the clouds and feet planted and scuffling about and around the stage.
The title track to Paul Simon’s album Rhythm of The Saints has the following chorus:
Reach in the darkness
A reach in the dark
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To glide away from the razor or a knife
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To dominate the impossible in your life
Dominating the impossible can only be accomplished by an act – and for me, at least, that act has always found itself achievable on the stage. As asinine as it may seem, I have no interest in staging something I have seen before, I want to tear apart and reconfigure the canvas each time.
How do your dreams manifest? Your aspirations? Your visions of a potential future that involve more participants than your own consciousness?
I want to know.
Onward and upward!
-Adam
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Your Authentic Obsession
I was watching Charlie Rose last week as I was trying to put myself to sleep and he had half an hour dedicated to discussing the life and work of J.D. Salinger. Charlie Rose asked his guest Adam Gopnick of the New Yorker, who wrote last week’s piece “Remembering J.D. Salinger," what he learned from Salinger as a writer. Gopnick answered:
“I learned that the only thing that matters for a writer is not how clever you are – the only courage that matters is the courage to write the thing you want to read. Not to be afraid of the thing that seems to matter the most to you…the experience of becoming an artist [a writer] is learning to not throw out your authentic obsession, it’s learning to recognize your authentic obsession. Which most the time people don’t want you to write about because it’s embarrassing in some way – that your authentic obsession is your real material.”
This struck me as being extremely profound.
Your authentic obsession IS your material.
As I’ve been working in the past week on material for 2010 Summer Buran I’ve kept this notion close to me.
We so often try to ignore the material that keeps welling up time and time again- whether as actors, composers, musicians, designers - but by ignoring that we suffer the consequences of not doing the work that lives in us most fully, honestly, and whole-heartedly, in a way that makes it individualistic.
It got me thinking about my obsessions, like my obsession to figuratively meet Chekhov in my writing.
Or my obsession with familial situations. Or with the Marx Brothers. Or with Shirley Temple. Or Leonard Cohen. Or sloppy staging. Or people on stage with their mouths full. Or stark colors or no color at all. Or musical moments that have no place on stage. These are things I find myself wanting to bring into the picture time and time again.
Finding your true authentic obsession. I’m surely still figuring that out for myself.
I want to know, what is your true authentic obsession?
Do you find this notion freeing? Or ridiculous?
What does this mean? Your authentic obsession?
Is obsession the right word for it?
How can we share what is singularly our obsession. Is that selfish? Or is it selfish not to embrace it?
Talk amongst yourselves!
-Adam
“I learned that the only thing that matters for a writer is not how clever you are – the only courage that matters is the courage to write the thing you want to read. Not to be afraid of the thing that seems to matter the most to you…the experience of becoming an artist [a writer] is learning to not throw out your authentic obsession, it’s learning to recognize your authentic obsession. Which most the time people don’t want you to write about because it’s embarrassing in some way – that your authentic obsession is your real material.”
This struck me as being extremely profound.
Your authentic obsession IS your material.
As I’ve been working in the past week on material for 2010 Summer Buran I’ve kept this notion close to me.
We so often try to ignore the material that keeps welling up time and time again- whether as actors, composers, musicians, designers - but by ignoring that we suffer the consequences of not doing the work that lives in us most fully, honestly, and whole-heartedly, in a way that makes it individualistic.
It got me thinking about my obsessions, like my obsession to figuratively meet Chekhov in my writing.
Or my obsession with familial situations. Or with the Marx Brothers. Or with Shirley Temple. Or Leonard Cohen. Or sloppy staging. Or people on stage with their mouths full. Or stark colors or no color at all. Or musical moments that have no place on stage. These are things I find myself wanting to bring into the picture time and time again.
Finding your true authentic obsession. I’m surely still figuring that out for myself.
I want to know, what is your true authentic obsession?
Do you find this notion freeing? Or ridiculous?
What does this mean? Your authentic obsession?
Is obsession the right word for it?
How can we share what is singularly our obsession. Is that selfish? Or is it selfish not to embrace it?
Talk amongst yourselves!
-Adam
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Postcards
So my most direct reflection of the Buran Theatre Summit came from the postcards I wrote afterwards. See, I gave both my grandmas an empty photo album for Christmas with the promise that I would send them postcards from all the places I was to work/visit/tour in 2010. And my trip to Albuquerque was the first big trip of 2010. I'm sure I'll have more to say but I thought I would start a dialogue by sharing what I wrote on the postcards to my grandmas. Note: There were five postcards each, so this was not written extremely small on one postcard. Here goes:
Dear Grandma/Meme,
Here’s where this crazy postcard project gets started- Albuquerque, NM. I went down for the Buran Theatre Summit. Yes- this is the Buran of the Marx Brothers show this summer and the naked play from college. I picked up Erik at the train station at 4am and made the long trek to NM- a 10 hour drive. It was nice to get to some warmer weather and it was smooth sailing all the way down Route 66 and finally through the Rockies to arrive in ABQ.
Upon arrival in NM, we immediately fell back into our groove. With friends like these, it seems all you need is Lasagna, 12 bottles of wine, and a drum circle to reconnect (that’s what we did when we got there.) The next day was soaking in the slow paced Southwest with a nice relaxing drive through the desert looking at the beautiful mesas and an unfortunately unsuccessful stop at the Route 66 casino- Meme you’d have been proud. That night we had our first company dinner at the Frontier Restaurant for my first taste of green chile- something we had much of over the week.
The next days were filled with inspiring workshops, everything from Drama in Jazz, a Jam Session, Emotions in Movement, a Monodrama about Lewis and Clark, a Greek trilogy, and clowning. It was a nice reminder of why I love this people and why I love working with them. We are all artists and get the chance to create together. We also talked a lot about family mythologies in anticipation of the show this summer. I wrote one scene about Papa and another about Grandma Grace.
Over the week we had the opportunity to work with the Tricklock Company as they mounted their Revolutions International Theatre Festival. They were so welcoming and hospitable, having us to dinner at their place one night, a fancy kick-off party in downtown ABQ another, and even inviting us to perform in their Reptilian Lounge (more on that later). We also saw a play about the painter Jackson Pollock. The best however was getting to see an established company and how they work and meeting new friends from all over the globe.
The culmination of the summit happened at that Reptilian Lounge performance where we showcased a new short piece- The Buran Interviews. I even got to tell three jokes I came up with. Here goes: What did the Hungarian ghost do to the fly? ---Budapest! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold? ---Sudafed! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold at nighttime? ---Sudafed PM! Pretty good, huh? The entire piece was really fun and I think well received. It was the great ending to a wonderful week filled with amazing work and some of my best friends. Although I’m of course glad to be back safe and to spend some time with you.
Love,
Brady
Dear Grandma/Meme,
Here’s where this crazy postcard project gets started- Albuquerque, NM. I went down for the Buran Theatre Summit. Yes- this is the Buran of the Marx Brothers show this summer and the naked play from college. I picked up Erik at the train station at 4am and made the long trek to NM- a 10 hour drive. It was nice to get to some warmer weather and it was smooth sailing all the way down Route 66 and finally through the Rockies to arrive in ABQ.
Upon arrival in NM, we immediately fell back into our groove. With friends like these, it seems all you need is Lasagna, 12 bottles of wine, and a drum circle to reconnect (that’s what we did when we got there.) The next day was soaking in the slow paced Southwest with a nice relaxing drive through the desert looking at the beautiful mesas and an unfortunately unsuccessful stop at the Route 66 casino- Meme you’d have been proud. That night we had our first company dinner at the Frontier Restaurant for my first taste of green chile- something we had much of over the week.
The next days were filled with inspiring workshops, everything from Drama in Jazz, a Jam Session, Emotions in Movement, a Monodrama about Lewis and Clark, a Greek trilogy, and clowning. It was a nice reminder of why I love this people and why I love working with them. We are all artists and get the chance to create together. We also talked a lot about family mythologies in anticipation of the show this summer. I wrote one scene about Papa and another about Grandma Grace.
Over the week we had the opportunity to work with the Tricklock Company as they mounted their Revolutions International Theatre Festival. They were so welcoming and hospitable, having us to dinner at their place one night, a fancy kick-off party in downtown ABQ another, and even inviting us to perform in their Reptilian Lounge (more on that later). We also saw a play about the painter Jackson Pollock. The best however was getting to see an established company and how they work and meeting new friends from all over the globe.
The culmination of the summit happened at that Reptilian Lounge performance where we showcased a new short piece- The Buran Interviews. I even got to tell three jokes I came up with. Here goes: What did the Hungarian ghost do to the fly? ---Budapest! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold? ---Sudafed! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold at nighttime? ---Sudafed PM! Pretty good, huh? The entire piece was really fun and I think well received. It was the great ending to a wonderful week filled with amazing work and some of my best friends. Although I’m of course glad to be back safe and to spend some time with you.
Love,
Brady
Friday, January 29, 2010
Out the window
It’s taken me a long time to ruminate over my week at the Buran Summit. I’m by no means finished. I wanted to write a response, but I got myself so bogged down in commenting on every aspect of it that it just felt impossible. So I decided to just focus on one subject!
Throughout the summit there was a lot of talk about the spectator and their role in Buran’s work. Not a surprising subject to be breached as Adam has written on it in Bringing Back the Spectator and Sustained Applause. But during one day of the week we had quite an in depth discussion on the topic. I contributed by sharing some experiences I had just had while touring with a children’s theatre company in New England.
While on tour we had many different kinds of audiences. Two “types” stick out in my mind. We went to many schools where the children were experiencing theatre or live performance for the first time. They were excited and curious, and they had no concept of what was “appropriate audience behavior”. On many occasions students would scream or cry. Some would shout from their seats attempting to warn a character of impending doom. Others would vocalize their approval or disapproval of the performance. Occasionally one would try to wander on stage. It was quite the experience for actors who are accustomed to seasoned theatergoers who know how to “behave”. But to be honest, it was SO invigorating at times. They were incredibly involved. They truly became a part of the story. And there was no questioning how they felt about the production. I mean, that’s supposed to be part of the beauty of live theatre-you get instant and firsthand reactions!
On the other hand, there were shows where we performed to complete silence. There were many schools where the students were threatened with countless forms of discipline if they didn’t sit as still as stone and keep their mouths shut. It was a sour experience. The air was just filled with oppression. We had no idea if they were enjoying it at all. We certainly weren’t enjoying ourselves. It really felt like there was no connection or shared experience. I was frustrated that the teachers didn’t understand that theatre isn’t one sided. “The audience and the actors feed off of each other. It’s a give and take!” I wanted to tell them.
These two very different audiences really got me questioning the spectator’s role? Does the responsibility stop at buying the ticket and showing up? I think, and many at the summit expressed the same opinion, that it goes beyond that. I know I like seeing a spectator that is engaged, responsive, and questioning what is in front of them. But just how active should they be? We came to no definitive answer, but everyone seemed genuinely excited by the possibilities and how we could implement them in future Buran productions. What if we made it okay for the spectator to walk on stage if they feel so compelled? What if we said it was okay for her/him to start commenting aloud or questioning the actors? What would happen if the rules of theatergoing got thrown out the window? Would the experience be enhanced? Would the story still get told? How would it affect audience turnout? Perhaps we should find out.
-Hilary
Sunday, January 24, 2010
First Annual Buran Summit Wrap Up
The first annual Buran Summit took place in Albuquerque, New Mexico from January 8-17. After a successful season of performances in New York City, Kansas City and Vilnius, Lithuania we felt it was time to reconvene with old collaborators and new collaborators in an inclusive environment that would prompt new work and discussion.
In August, after the closing of Money Buckets at the Kansas City Fringe Festival, we invited over three dozen artists to commune in Albuquerque for a week to share their work and to begin a dialogue about the art we're making, why and how we're making it and how we might be able to support one another more directly.
.jpg)
Erin Phillips, Adam Burnett, & Erik LaPointe perform a piece devised from the Jam Session led by Jean Goto. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
.jpg)
Meg Saricks, Erin Phillips, Ben Leifer, & Adam Burnett perform a movement piece.
The week was full of workshops, round table discussions, and live performances of new works all over Albuquerque. Jean Goto of The Anthropologists (www.theanthropologists.org) came down from NYC for five days of the summit and led a Jam Session. Eric Avery lead a workshop that incorporated music and rhythm into finding emotion physically in performance. We joined the cast of "The Great Negocio" for a clowning workshop with Laurel Butler and company - where we all came to Confront the Audience. Erin Phillips and Casey Mraz stopped by to have a dialogue about their vision for an Albuquerque New Play development center. And Tricklock Company graciously made us feel at home in the midst of their 10th Annual Revolutions Festival, a magical international theatre festival (what brought me to ABQ in the first place). The summit ended with a performance at Tricklock's infamous Reptilian Lounge where we devised a new short performance piece based on a devising exercise we use in texts and rehearsals - The Buran Interview (see posting below). It was serendipitous that the summit week coincided with Tricklock's festival as we were talking with artists from Poland and Canada and all over the United States almost every night. We were working hard all day but definitely letting it all hang loose at night as we continued to discuss theatre and music and art making and community well into the wee morning hours.
Company devises new material. Brady Blevins looking on bored. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
We also spent a great deal of time developing material for the 2010 Summer Buran premiering at the Kansas City Fringe Festival in July. We looked specifically at personal mythologies and how they might be performed by the self or an other. There were so many vivid images and stories that came into the mix. A few that stick out immediately: Lara Thomas-Deucy's stories of her great-grandma, Brady Blevin's one and a half minute play "The Blevins Family Basement," Val Smith's tender stories of her dziadek, and Meg Sarick's hilarious mythologies about her aunt's posse of friends: crabby, old, drunk theatre patrons. We plan on employing the devising methods in the workshops we will be conducting this summer in Kansas and Missouri (and hopefully some of these stories too!).
.jpg)
We never got all participants in a photo. Three days in, after many people had come and gone, we brought the camera out for the first time. From left to right, (back row) Ben Leifer Adam Burnett, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Erik LaPointe, Carter Waite, (front row) Hilary Kelman, Val Smith & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
.jpg)
We took a trip out to the Mesa one afternoon to view the historic New Mexican sights of La Ria Llamas and General Pinchback Mountain. Pictured: Ben Leifer, Hilary Kelman, Adam Burnett, Erik LaPointe, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Jean Goto, & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
Carter Waite and Joshua Efron both brought in new material to share and discuss. Carter is currently writing a one man show for himself to perform. The topic of this mono-drama is Meriwether Lewis and Carter brought in a handful of pages to be read. What spurred Carter to invest in the research for the work was a general dissatisfaction in our generations lack of interest in seeking out adventure. "This play is about that moment - standing on the edge of the cliff before you jump," he said. Or as Justin Knudsen replied in response to that, “Or what the last day of your old life feels like before you start a completely new adventure."
Joshua brought in a sample from his ambitious project – his own three part version of the Orpheus myth. He first began working on the project as a response to a production he witnessed of Sarah Ruhl's "Eurydice" last spring. The more he has written though the more invested he's become, and he is pointing towards a three play cycle. Joshua intricately led us through some Greek Mythology 101 and his spin on these classical narratives. His breathless attack on discussing his work was admirable. It's so difficult to discuss one's work and it was remarkable to be in a space where everyone was open and willing and ready to respond honestly and generously.
Ben Leifer shared with us a composition he wrote for trumpet, bass, piano and drums using Buran performance methods. This was a mind-blowing session for many of us. Ben stressed the significance of rhythm in everything we do, but especially in performance. For a more detailed description of Ben’s workshop/discussion go copy and paste this into your web finder dealio: http://burantheatre.blogspot.com/2010/01/buran-summit-day-five.html
Or just scroll down and read the Blog entitled "Buran Summit: Day Five."
Erik LaPointe and Brady Blevins in rehearsal for Buran Interviews. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
Eric Avery as Justin Knudsen in "Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Hilary Kelman as Justin Knudsen, Justin Knudsen as a Doctor Who Only Sees Other Doctors – "Buran Interviews." Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Some quotes from the week:
On Buran workshops: “It’s about keeping body/mind in tune. The freedom to explore without limitations. Taking the felt and sharing it with others.” – Brady Blevins
On Buran methodology: “It is not the developmental process (i.e. devising, improvising to the text, etc) that makes it unique – it is the community itself. It’s an attitude.” – Eric Avery
“Buran equals a positive infection that we want to spread to everyone.” –Joshua Efron
“There is a release of ego and preciousness from the beginning. This is the attitude.” –Erin Phillips
“It has to be personal, this cannot be trained.” –Eric Avery
“We’re all here looking for new teachers in one another.” –Justin Knudsen
“Text is not sacred, but a performance is.” – I kept yelling this.
"[A move towards] structure in direction, not in expression." - Justin
"Crossing that line [between chaos and center] every time we get up to perform." - Jean Goto
"The expression is individual - but the direction, or structure, is the group." - Ben Leifer
""It's not the what. It's the when."- Jean
The phrase that was used over and over, time and time again was “generosity of spirit.” Everyone who came to Albuquerque made an investment – an investment to have the time and the safe space to create with others in a new community.
We received no grant support.
This was all made possible by hosts in the community of Albuquerque and the willingness for folks from all over the nation to stop their lives for a week to retreat, reconvene, rejuvenate, and reinitiate the dialogue.
Justin Knudsen as Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins as Edward Gordon Craig –"Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Buran in silhouette. From left to right, Brady Blevins, Meg Saricks, Justin Knudsen, Erik LaPointe, Jean Goto, Hilary Kelman, Ben Leifer, and Adam Burnett.
There were so many wonderful ideas shared at our first summit. I can't wait to see who hosts next year and where!
As we plan for our series of workshops and productions in the mid-west this summer we're going to keep a dialogue active on here. Anyone is welcome to join in and respond.
Thank you to the gracious hosts - Eric Avery, Mary Cianflone, Casey Mraz, Erin Phillips, and Julio Romero. You opened your homes. You cooked for us and with us. Everyone ate and drank and played and danced all over your homes and you egged it on. That's pretty great.
Thank you to Tricklock Company for your hospitality and true generosity of spirit. For opening their home, as they do every year, to artists from all over the world.
For everything Buran related – keep in touch with this blog. (For a bunch of
self-proclaimed Luddites, we’re doing our best at keeping up with the technological age.)
-Adam
In August, after the closing of Money Buckets at the Kansas City Fringe Festival, we invited over three dozen artists to commune in Albuquerque for a week to share their work and to begin a dialogue about the art we're making, why and how we're making it and how we might be able to support one another more directly.
.jpg)
Erin Phillips, Adam Burnett, & Erik LaPointe perform a piece devised from the Jam Session led by Jean Goto. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
.jpg)
Meg Saricks, Erin Phillips, Ben Leifer, & Adam Burnett perform a movement piece.
The week was full of workshops, round table discussions, and live performances of new works all over Albuquerque. Jean Goto of The Anthropologists (www.theanthropologists.org) came down from NYC for five days of the summit and led a Jam Session. Eric Avery lead a workshop that incorporated music and rhythm into finding emotion physically in performance. We joined the cast of "The Great Negocio" for a clowning workshop with Laurel Butler and company - where we all came to Confront the Audience. Erin Phillips and Casey Mraz stopped by to have a dialogue about their vision for an Albuquerque New Play development center. And Tricklock Company graciously made us feel at home in the midst of their 10th Annual Revolutions Festival, a magical international theatre festival (what brought me to ABQ in the first place). The summit ended with a performance at Tricklock's infamous Reptilian Lounge where we devised a new short performance piece based on a devising exercise we use in texts and rehearsals - The Buran Interview (see posting below). It was serendipitous that the summit week coincided with Tricklock's festival as we were talking with artists from Poland and Canada and all over the United States almost every night. We were working hard all day but definitely letting it all hang loose at night as we continued to discuss theatre and music and art making and community well into the wee morning hours.
Company devises new material. Brady Blevins looking on bored. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
We also spent a great deal of time developing material for the 2010 Summer Buran premiering at the Kansas City Fringe Festival in July. We looked specifically at personal mythologies and how they might be performed by the self or an other. There were so many vivid images and stories that came into the mix. A few that stick out immediately: Lara Thomas-Deucy's stories of her great-grandma, Brady Blevin's one and a half minute play "The Blevins Family Basement," Val Smith's tender stories of her dziadek, and Meg Sarick's hilarious mythologies about her aunt's posse of friends: crabby, old, drunk theatre patrons. We plan on employing the devising methods in the workshops we will be conducting this summer in Kansas and Missouri (and hopefully some of these stories too!).
.jpg)
We never got all participants in a photo. Three days in, after many people had come and gone, we brought the camera out for the first time. From left to right, (back row) Ben Leifer Adam Burnett, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Erik LaPointe, Carter Waite, (front row) Hilary Kelman, Val Smith & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
.jpg)
We took a trip out to the Mesa one afternoon to view the historic New Mexican sights of La Ria Llamas and General Pinchback Mountain. Pictured: Ben Leifer, Hilary Kelman, Adam Burnett, Erik LaPointe, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Jean Goto, & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
Carter Waite and Joshua Efron both brought in new material to share and discuss. Carter is currently writing a one man show for himself to perform. The topic of this mono-drama is Meriwether Lewis and Carter brought in a handful of pages to be read. What spurred Carter to invest in the research for the work was a general dissatisfaction in our generations lack of interest in seeking out adventure. "This play is about that moment - standing on the edge of the cliff before you jump," he said. Or as Justin Knudsen replied in response to that, “Or what the last day of your old life feels like before you start a completely new adventure."
Joshua brought in a sample from his ambitious project – his own three part version of the Orpheus myth. He first began working on the project as a response to a production he witnessed of Sarah Ruhl's "Eurydice" last spring. The more he has written though the more invested he's become, and he is pointing towards a three play cycle. Joshua intricately led us through some Greek Mythology 101 and his spin on these classical narratives. His breathless attack on discussing his work was admirable. It's so difficult to discuss one's work and it was remarkable to be in a space where everyone was open and willing and ready to respond honestly and generously.
Ben Leifer shared with us a composition he wrote for trumpet, bass, piano and drums using Buran performance methods. This was a mind-blowing session for many of us. Ben stressed the significance of rhythm in everything we do, but especially in performance. For a more detailed description of Ben’s workshop/discussion go copy and paste this into your web finder dealio: http://burantheatre.blogspot.com/2010/01/buran-summit-day-five.html
Or just scroll down and read the Blog entitled "Buran Summit: Day Five."
Erik LaPointe and Brady Blevins in rehearsal for Buran Interviews. Photograph by Joshua Efron.
Eric Avery as Justin Knudsen in "Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Hilary Kelman as Justin Knudsen, Justin Knudsen as a Doctor Who Only Sees Other Doctors – "Buran Interviews." Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Some quotes from the week:
On Buran workshops: “It’s about keeping body/mind in tune. The freedom to explore without limitations. Taking the felt and sharing it with others.” – Brady Blevins
On Buran methodology: “It is not the developmental process (i.e. devising, improvising to the text, etc) that makes it unique – it is the community itself. It’s an attitude.” – Eric Avery
“Buran equals a positive infection that we want to spread to everyone.” –Joshua Efron
“There is a release of ego and preciousness from the beginning. This is the attitude.” –Erin Phillips
“It has to be personal, this cannot be trained.” –Eric Avery
“We’re all here looking for new teachers in one another.” –Justin Knudsen
“Text is not sacred, but a performance is.” – I kept yelling this.
"[A move towards] structure in direction, not in expression." - Justin
"Crossing that line [between chaos and center] every time we get up to perform." - Jean Goto
"The expression is individual - but the direction, or structure, is the group." - Ben Leifer
""It's not the what. It's the when."- Jean
The phrase that was used over and over, time and time again was “generosity of spirit.” Everyone who came to Albuquerque made an investment – an investment to have the time and the safe space to create with others in a new community.
We received no grant support.
This was all made possible by hosts in the community of Albuquerque and the willingness for folks from all over the nation to stop their lives for a week to retreat, reconvene, rejuvenate, and reinitiate the dialogue.
Justin Knudsen as Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins as Edward Gordon Craig –"Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.
Buran in silhouette. From left to right, Brady Blevins, Meg Saricks, Justin Knudsen, Erik LaPointe, Jean Goto, Hilary Kelman, Ben Leifer, and Adam Burnett.
There were so many wonderful ideas shared at our first summit. I can't wait to see who hosts next year and where!
As we plan for our series of workshops and productions in the mid-west this summer we're going to keep a dialogue active on here. Anyone is welcome to join in and respond.
Thank you to the gracious hosts - Eric Avery, Mary Cianflone, Casey Mraz, Erin Phillips, and Julio Romero. You opened your homes. You cooked for us and with us. Everyone ate and drank and played and danced all over your homes and you egged it on. That's pretty great.
Thank you to Tricklock Company for your hospitality and true generosity of spirit. For opening their home, as they do every year, to artists from all over the world.
For everything Buran related – keep in touch with this blog. (For a bunch of
self-proclaimed Luddites, we’re doing our best at keeping up with the technological age.)
-Adam
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Buran Summit Thoughts
I know this entry is coming a few days late, but it's taken me a little bit to collect my thoughts on everything I got to partake in but I really wanted to contribute to the blog! I had left New York feeling ragged at the edges, not sure why I what I was doing or why I was doing it and I came back feeling incredibly rejuvenated and ready to throw myself back into my work. I wasn't quite sure what it was that had done it- the fact that I was far away from the hustle bustle of NYC? the beautiful desert? the wonderful conversations about theater we had (with mostly people I had just met)? the immediate feeling like these artists were good friends right from the start? the amazing various workshops and play sessions??? ... I think all of the above!
I think all of the above was, in a sense, the Buran Community. There were a lot of questions about what Buran is and whatnot and I'm not trying to answer that question. But all these elements put together reminded me of whats really important for me right now. Its not my job, not whether or not I have an agent, or any of that! But rather whats really important (for me) is my attitude and my process. The attitude of the summit (it seemed to me) was very open and curious .. and it was catching! It was because of that attitude that I felt like it was safe to say whatever thoughts I had, to challenge myself and others etc. Remembering that everyone has their own process in every step of the way (when it comes to theater, but I think also maybe in every aspect of life??) reminded me of the sense that right now my goal is to learn and grow and push myself and learn what my process is... And to stop worrying about whether or not the work is "good" or whatever! Right now is the time to be a fool for a little bit!
Digression: a few months ago I decided that just as we should all face one fear a day we should also be embarrassed at least once a day. I wasn't sure exactly why I thought that was such a good idea until this trip-- we were on the dance floor at the tricklock party and I was so UNable to follow the leader and felt like such a fool! But the music was too enticing and I was having too much fun to care.. and I realized --- embarassing yourself is a humbling experience and when we are humble and open to making fools of ourselves we are able to take the risks that artists need to take to make art that is personal to them!
So, anyway, I dont know how corny/idealistic this blog is, but these are my thoughts (among many) from the past week! And who cares?? I'm an idealist!!! :) Many thanks to Buran and Adam for all the inspiration! (Now the question is how do I bring this into my life when I fall back into the hustle bustle attitude of NYC???)
-Jean
I think all of the above was, in a sense, the Buran Community. There were a lot of questions about what Buran is and whatnot and I'm not trying to answer that question. But all these elements put together reminded me of whats really important for me right now. Its not my job, not whether or not I have an agent, or any of that! But rather whats really important (for me) is my attitude and my process. The attitude of the summit (it seemed to me) was very open and curious .. and it was catching! It was because of that attitude that I felt like it was safe to say whatever thoughts I had, to challenge myself and others etc. Remembering that everyone has their own process in every step of the way (when it comes to theater, but I think also maybe in every aspect of life??) reminded me of the sense that right now my goal is to learn and grow and push myself and learn what my process is... And to stop worrying about whether or not the work is "good" or whatever! Right now is the time to be a fool for a little bit!
Digression: a few months ago I decided that just as we should all face one fear a day we should also be embarrassed at least once a day. I wasn't sure exactly why I thought that was such a good idea until this trip-- we were on the dance floor at the tricklock party and I was so UNable to follow the leader and felt like such a fool! But the music was too enticing and I was having too much fun to care.. and I realized --- embarassing yourself is a humbling experience and when we are humble and open to making fools of ourselves we are able to take the risks that artists need to take to make art that is personal to them!
So, anyway, I dont know how corny/idealistic this blog is, but these are my thoughts (among many) from the past week! And who cares?? I'm an idealist!!! :) Many thanks to Buran and Adam for all the inspiration! (Now the question is how do I bring this into my life when I fall back into the hustle bustle attitude of NYC???)
-Jean
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Buran Interviews
BURAN INTERVIEWS
Justin Knudsen: Justin Knudsen
Justin Knudsen: Erik LaPointe
Justin Knudsen: Hilary Kelman
Justin Knudsen: Brady Blevins
Justin Knudsen: Eric Avery
Justin Knudsen: Justin Knudsen
Edward Gordon Craig: Brady Blevins
Your Mother: Erik LaPointe
Doctor: Justin Knudsen
Brady Blevins: Brady Blevins
Pollock: Adam Burnett
JUSTIN KNUDSEN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen. I’m an actor who also plays a person in real life. Tonight I will be interviewing a number of significant – um – figures and individuals and um – people who – have – done a significant amount of …things. Tonight we must move briskly, due to the strict measures placed upon my time here in this space with you here. Usually I do this for four hours straight, with or without people watching. Sometimes it’s just me.
On our schedule this evening: From 11 to 11:01 I will be interviewing Edward Gordon Craig. From 11:01 to 11:02 I will be interviewing Your Mother. And from 11:02 to 11:03, a certified doctor. From 11:03 to 11:04, I will be interviewing comedienne Brady Blevins. And - - oh here we are now. This is how it begins I guess.
EDWARD GORDON CRAIG enters
According to half a sentence I read on Wikipedia immediately prior to this interview: Edward Gordon Craig was an English modernist theatre practitioner; he worked as an actor, producer, director, and scenic designer, as well as developing a theoretical body of writing that - - (beat). Borrrrring. He wrote a scathing review about a performance of mine some years ago. But I’m willing to look past it if you are, Edward.
EDWARD
Not even in my memory now.
JUSTIN
I’m glad that works for you. Often known for her writings on the uber-marrionette, Craig - -
EDWARD
Her?!
JUSTIN
His – hers – sorry, it’s hard for me to tell by the features.
EDWARD
What’s a day like for you?
EDWARD
A day?
JUSTIN
A typical day. Wait a minute. I just got this – text – here. Huh.
EDWARD
Excuse me?
JUSTIN
No, no by all means, keep talking. It just says he’s not going to - My friend. Bob. He’s was supposed to pick me up. Damn. Is anyone – anyone here doing anything after this? Buy me a drink maybe and give me a ride? I’m uh - - …sorry.
Is it true you hate actors?
EDWARD
Acting is not an art. It is therefore incorrect to talk of the actor as an artist.
JUSTIN
I’m going to ignore that previous quote. Here. Just give us something. A quote I can use. The papers would love that.
EDWARD
There are still papers?
JUSTIN
Sometimes. There’s my paper.
Justin pulls out the JUSTIN KNUDSEN TIMES.
It’s for me.
EDWARD
What do you cover?
JUSTIN
There’s an article about pajamas…that I like. There’s an article about Thursdays. Um…
EDWARD
Is there still theatre?
JUSTIN
Oh, often.
EDWARD
Does it work?
Silence. JUSTIN is looking through his newspaper.
Does it work?
JUSTIN
Sodoku…do you Sodoku? Most this is…yeah…and crosswords, see.
JUSTIN starts working on a crossword. Ignores Edward..
EDWARD
Does it work?
Does it?
At least give me a quote.
The papers would love that.
Does it work?
JUSTIN
Oh, well, we are just about out of time. I’m sorry, Craig. Paaaaass the pigs!
EDWARD gets taken off stage by the audience as Shooby Taylor plays.
JUSTIN
I need a smoke. One moment. We have a minute.
He exits. As JUSTIN KNUDSEN exits, JUSTIN KNUDSEN enters.
JUSTIN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen from the Knudsen Times and tonight I’ll be interviewing your mother.
YOUR MOTHER
Sweetheart! It’s so wonderful to see you! All of you!
JUSTIN
How – long have you been a mother?
YOUR MOTHER
(to the audience)
Oh, goodness my oh my. You don’t ask a Mother that sort of thing. (beat) Thirty-three years.
JUSTIN
What – is – a typical day like for you?
YOUR MOTHER
(directly to the audience)
Oh, you know, I just wake up. I put the pot of coffee on for your father. And then, well, you know my bladder it just – well! – and there’s this ringing in my ear. It won’t go away. Your father thinks I’m going nuts. Of course. The ringing, this ringing in my ear is so loud sometimes I just – (whispers) I take a lot of pills that make me feel kind of funny, you know what I mean, sweetheart, and I just go right to sleep. I don’t think that’s like doing drugs, is it?
JUSTIN
(with a piece of paper)
If you curl up the end of it, it looks like a doll.
YOUR MOTHER
A doll?
JUSTIN
Like a little doll, “I’m a doll. Ra. Ra.”
I’m sorry, what were you saying?
YOUR MOTHER
Oh, I -
JUSTIN
Oh, darned, I believe we’re out of time. Isn’t that – just- the darndest.
YOUR MOTHER
Take care of your mother! Your mother is going to die if you don’t take care of her! Please take care of your mother!
YOUR MOTHER is taken off stage to Shooby Taylor.
JUSTIN
We got a few minutes left. I’m gonna get a cup of coffee and I’ll be right back.
JUSTIN exits. JUSTIN enters with a cup of coffee.
JUSTIN
Hi, I’m Justin Knudsen from the Knudsen Knews and tonight I’ll be interviewing a real doctor.
Doctor enters.
JUSTIN
Tonight we have a very important Dr. who has worked with many people? Is that correct to say?
DOCTOR
Are you a doctor?
JUSTIN
(beat)
I prefer to ask the questions, doctor.
DOCTOR
You’re not a doctor, are you?
JUSTIN
I can – what?
DR
I’ve already said too much.
JUSTIN
Have I said too much?
DR
I don’t - (sigh) Excuse me, but I don’t do this.
JUSTIN
Do what?
DR
I only talk to other doctors.
JUSTIN
You are a doctor though?
DR
Absolutely I am a doctor.
JUSTIN
You’re a doctor who only talks to other doctors.
DR
Precisely. I have no patients. Only other doctors.
JUSTIN
You have no patients at all?
DR
None at all.
JUSTIN
Do you have your own practice?
DR
Are you a doctor?
JUSTIN
Am I doctor?
DR
No, you are not. I’m sorry. I can’t be here.
Doctor leaves.
Justin exits. Justin enters.
JUSTIN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen from the Buran Theatre Company and tonight I’ll be interviewing comedienne Brady Blevins. Bwady Bwevins. Brrrraaaady Bwwwevins.
BRADY sits.
JUSTIN
Tell me a joke.
BRADY
What did the ghost do to the Hungarian fly?
JUSTIN
(pissed as can be)
What?
BRADY
Budapest.
Justin: No response.
JUSTIN
No. Next.
BRADY
What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold?
Sudafed!
JUSTIN
- -
BRADY
Okay okay - one more. What did the lawyer do the crooked FBI agent with a cold - at night?
SUDAFED PM!
JUSTIN
No. No. Leave. Leave. Get off. Now. Leave. Now. Get off. No, faster. Leave. Go. Go.
Justin exits. Justin enters again.
JUSTIN
Hi, I’m Justin Knudsen. Our final guest tonight is an influential painter – and uh – mind – he paints and he has an influential mind. Ladies and gentlemen, Jacksen Polack.
POLLOCK
Pollock.
JUSTIN
Po-lack.
POLLOCK
Pollock.
JUSTIN
Nuh-uh. Polack.
Silence.
JUSTIN
What’s – um – what’s a typical day like for you?
POLLOCK
I go out to my barn. And I light up a cigarette. I drink a drink. A whiskey. Some coffee. And then I get to work.
POLLOCK pulls his pants down, revealing his bare cock, and pours cottage cheese over his head.
Justin Knudsen: Justin Knudsen
Justin Knudsen: Erik LaPointe
Justin Knudsen: Hilary Kelman
Justin Knudsen: Brady Blevins
Justin Knudsen: Eric Avery
Justin Knudsen: Justin Knudsen
Edward Gordon Craig: Brady Blevins
Your Mother: Erik LaPointe
Doctor: Justin Knudsen
Brady Blevins: Brady Blevins
Pollock: Adam Burnett
JUSTIN KNUDSEN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen. I’m an actor who also plays a person in real life. Tonight I will be interviewing a number of significant – um – figures and individuals and um – people who – have – done a significant amount of …things. Tonight we must move briskly, due to the strict measures placed upon my time here in this space with you here. Usually I do this for four hours straight, with or without people watching. Sometimes it’s just me.
On our schedule this evening: From 11 to 11:01 I will be interviewing Edward Gordon Craig. From 11:01 to 11:02 I will be interviewing Your Mother. And from 11:02 to 11:03, a certified doctor. From 11:03 to 11:04, I will be interviewing comedienne Brady Blevins. And - - oh here we are now. This is how it begins I guess.
EDWARD GORDON CRAIG enters
According to half a sentence I read on Wikipedia immediately prior to this interview: Edward Gordon Craig was an English modernist theatre practitioner; he worked as an actor, producer, director, and scenic designer, as well as developing a theoretical body of writing that - - (beat). Borrrrring. He wrote a scathing review about a performance of mine some years ago. But I’m willing to look past it if you are, Edward.
EDWARD
Not even in my memory now.
JUSTIN
I’m glad that works for you. Often known for her writings on the uber-marrionette, Craig - -
EDWARD
Her?!
JUSTIN
His – hers – sorry, it’s hard for me to tell by the features.
EDWARD
What’s a day like for you?
EDWARD
A day?
JUSTIN
A typical day. Wait a minute. I just got this – text – here. Huh.
EDWARD
Excuse me?
JUSTIN
No, no by all means, keep talking. It just says he’s not going to - My friend. Bob. He’s was supposed to pick me up. Damn. Is anyone – anyone here doing anything after this? Buy me a drink maybe and give me a ride? I’m uh - - …sorry.
Is it true you hate actors?
EDWARD
Acting is not an art. It is therefore incorrect to talk of the actor as an artist.
JUSTIN
I’m going to ignore that previous quote. Here. Just give us something. A quote I can use. The papers would love that.
EDWARD
There are still papers?
JUSTIN
Sometimes. There’s my paper.
Justin pulls out the JUSTIN KNUDSEN TIMES.
It’s for me.
EDWARD
What do you cover?
JUSTIN
There’s an article about pajamas…that I like. There’s an article about Thursdays. Um…
EDWARD
Is there still theatre?
JUSTIN
Oh, often.
EDWARD
Does it work?
Silence. JUSTIN is looking through his newspaper.
Does it work?
JUSTIN
Sodoku…do you Sodoku? Most this is…yeah…and crosswords, see.
JUSTIN starts working on a crossword. Ignores Edward..
EDWARD
Does it work?
Does it?
At least give me a quote.
The papers would love that.
Does it work?
JUSTIN
Oh, well, we are just about out of time. I’m sorry, Craig. Paaaaass the pigs!
EDWARD gets taken off stage by the audience as Shooby Taylor plays.
JUSTIN
I need a smoke. One moment. We have a minute.
He exits. As JUSTIN KNUDSEN exits, JUSTIN KNUDSEN enters.
JUSTIN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen from the Knudsen Times and tonight I’ll be interviewing your mother.
YOUR MOTHER
Sweetheart! It’s so wonderful to see you! All of you!
JUSTIN
How – long have you been a mother?
YOUR MOTHER
(to the audience)
Oh, goodness my oh my. You don’t ask a Mother that sort of thing. (beat) Thirty-three years.
JUSTIN
What – is – a typical day like for you?
YOUR MOTHER
(directly to the audience)
Oh, you know, I just wake up. I put the pot of coffee on for your father. And then, well, you know my bladder it just – well! – and there’s this ringing in my ear. It won’t go away. Your father thinks I’m going nuts. Of course. The ringing, this ringing in my ear is so loud sometimes I just – (whispers) I take a lot of pills that make me feel kind of funny, you know what I mean, sweetheart, and I just go right to sleep. I don’t think that’s like doing drugs, is it?
JUSTIN
(with a piece of paper)
If you curl up the end of it, it looks like a doll.
YOUR MOTHER
A doll?
JUSTIN
Like a little doll, “I’m a doll. Ra. Ra.”
I’m sorry, what were you saying?
YOUR MOTHER
Oh, I -
JUSTIN
Oh, darned, I believe we’re out of time. Isn’t that – just- the darndest.
YOUR MOTHER
Take care of your mother! Your mother is going to die if you don’t take care of her! Please take care of your mother!
YOUR MOTHER is taken off stage to Shooby Taylor.
JUSTIN
We got a few minutes left. I’m gonna get a cup of coffee and I’ll be right back.
JUSTIN exits. JUSTIN enters with a cup of coffee.
JUSTIN
Hi, I’m Justin Knudsen from the Knudsen Knews and tonight I’ll be interviewing a real doctor.
Doctor enters.
JUSTIN
Tonight we have a very important Dr. who has worked with many people? Is that correct to say?
DOCTOR
Are you a doctor?
JUSTIN
(beat)
I prefer to ask the questions, doctor.
DOCTOR
You’re not a doctor, are you?
JUSTIN
I can – what?
DR
I’ve already said too much.
JUSTIN
Have I said too much?
DR
I don’t - (sigh) Excuse me, but I don’t do this.
JUSTIN
Do what?
DR
I only talk to other doctors.
JUSTIN
You are a doctor though?
DR
Absolutely I am a doctor.
JUSTIN
You’re a doctor who only talks to other doctors.
DR
Precisely. I have no patients. Only other doctors.
JUSTIN
You have no patients at all?
DR
None at all.
JUSTIN
Do you have your own practice?
DR
Are you a doctor?
JUSTIN
Am I doctor?
DR
No, you are not. I’m sorry. I can’t be here.
Doctor leaves.
Justin exits. Justin enters.
JUSTIN
Hi. I’m Justin Knudsen from the Buran Theatre Company and tonight I’ll be interviewing comedienne Brady Blevins. Bwady Bwevins. Brrrraaaady Bwwwevins.
BRADY sits.
JUSTIN
Tell me a joke.
BRADY
What did the ghost do to the Hungarian fly?
JUSTIN
(pissed as can be)
What?
BRADY
Budapest.
Justin: No response.
JUSTIN
No. Next.
BRADY
What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold?
Sudafed!
JUSTIN
- -
BRADY
Okay okay - one more. What did the lawyer do the crooked FBI agent with a cold - at night?
SUDAFED PM!
JUSTIN
No. No. Leave. Leave. Get off. Now. Leave. Now. Get off. No, faster. Leave. Go. Go.
Justin exits. Justin enters again.
JUSTIN
Hi, I’m Justin Knudsen. Our final guest tonight is an influential painter – and uh – mind – he paints and he has an influential mind. Ladies and gentlemen, Jacksen Polack.
POLLOCK
Pollock.
JUSTIN
Po-lack.
POLLOCK
Pollock.
JUSTIN
Nuh-uh. Polack.
Silence.
JUSTIN
What’s – um – what’s a typical day like for you?
POLLOCK
I go out to my barn. And I light up a cigarette. I drink a drink. A whiskey. Some coffee. And then I get to work.
POLLOCK pulls his pants down, revealing his bare cock, and pours cottage cheese over his head.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)