Monday

I suppose awareness counts for something, you can't change until you realize you need to.

Still have this weird feeling in my head.  I've had it before, but it seems to be lasting longer now.  Lots of pressure, especially around my sinuses and my ears, like my head is trying to expand.  Disconcerting.  (Someone suggested it might be an intolerance to caffeine, or dehydration.)

Almost started crying on Friday when we finally got up and started to work through the things (I cannot remember the right term, it's not "exercise" or "drill" but I think it starts with a "d") then pulled myself together.  We start so many of these with acknowledging each other, taking in the room, before the actual moving; it was the "this is the last time I'm going to do this with all of you" feeling.  Such a good three weeks.  I'm hoping we'll get to see pictures soon, though whenever we do, that'll be a nice reminder.

I mostly closed my windows this morning, thinking there was a chance it would rain.  (If we had a thunderstorm last night, I slept through it.  Someone who lives north of here mentioned hearing thunder, and the porch as well as the cars parked on the street were wet in the morning.)  When I got home, the entire house was like an oven; when I could no longer stand being in the attic, I sat around downstairs and watched bad tv for a couple of hours, windows and doors open to get some airflow, but it's still too hot to sleep.  Surprisingly sweltering, it didn't seem like it was as hot today as last week, but the house is definitely worse.  And it's dry, dry, dry...no end in sight.

Friday

The "performance" last night was fun.  How do I incorporate that into my life?  I was joking about it with my roommate when I got home, telling her what the training was.  She said we should re-arrange the living room to make space to move around in (it's a tiny living room.)  I'm in the best shape I've been in in ages.  Can't think of anything else that comes close in exercise as far as intensity and enjoyment...perhaps dance.  (Though it's not really feasible to work out four hours a day.)

It's been an eye-opening couple of weeks.  Re-assessing everything, mostly where I'm putting all my energy.  Seeing things for what they are and not what I want them to be, or what I thought they were.  All that needs to change.  More mutuality.  More balance...across the board in my life.  Same behavior, different subject.  I'm worthy of love and reciprocation, but I continue to give my life as if I didn't matter.  As if that were the way to "win" affection, but it never is.  The biggest stretch where I didn't do this was when I was too burned out.

In better news, love won again.  A good day for equality, and my heart is full.

Thursday

Tuesday.  Woke up to what I thought was a hawk calling, but when I looked out my window, there was only a very vocal squirrel on the roof, tail up in alarm, talking toward a tree.  Never did see what it was focused on.  Missed class because I was feeling "dis associative?"  As if I was going to get vertigo, and I was concerned about how I would get home if I did.  Didn't get worse.  Didn't particularly get better.

Went to see a doctor on Wednesday to see if was my ear, but she couldn't reproduce the symptoms, so I don't know.  Still feeling odd, but I made it through class last night without any more problems.  Now everything hurts. Tiger balm and ibuprofen.  We have our performance tonight.  Went over everything we will be doing for that, last night.  Found myself weak in the legs by the time we got to walking backward.  Need more carbs today.  More fruit.  More water.

Haven't been able to get to the garden all week.  There was an unexpected attempt at rain yesterday, but I don't think it helped.  I hope everything survives in spite of my lack of attention.  Soon.

We'll get out early tonight, but then one more class.  Then I'll figure out what's next.

Staying with the uncomfortable

Tonight was my last night on the tight rope.  Still didn't make it very far, but...something better for me was that on the last try I fought harder to find balance, I had been giving up to soon and stepping down when I felt like I was going to fall, and on that last time, I didn't do that (made it four small steps further, too.)

And now that it's almost over, I'm a lot less self-conscious, especially in partner work.  I'm willing to hold the gaze, to hold that intimacy you can get in performance, without immediately backing down (which is a perfectly normal response out on the street.  You don't hold that with strangers, it's too much.  And we've been taught that well.)  I know the self-consciousness will come back, but maybe it gets easier each time. (It all reminds me of something someone said after the clown class in January, "I feel like I know all of you on some intimate level, but I hardly know anything about your life," because the public mask gets dropped, and you all go through the same types of things.  You share that experience.)

I know it all changes me as a human being, but does it make me a better actor?  I don't know, but I hope so.  I hope the point I fall back to is a little less far each time.

Summer

If I remain still for long enough, I find myself encircled by the acrobatic flight of swallows.  The first day of summer already feels like mid-summer; promised rain never quite falls.  Drier and warmer than usual.  Was excited yesterday to see a watermelon had actually sprouted (other plants previously germinated turned out to be tomatillos) only to find upon re-visitation of the garden today, that it had been completely devoured by someone, a slug or such.  The pumpkin is doing well, greedily expanding it's territory.  Need to get something else in soon.

Last night the newbies got schooled in proper form.  (And why is it that when she says my name, I feel like I've done something wrong?  I rarely hear my name, I suppose.  It wasn't the actual case, in fact, she was commenting on what I had improved on. There was clarification on why and how; it was helpful.)  We ran through the entire performance for the first time, with all (43+) of us included, last night.  She mentioned it became part of the training when students started asking how all this training related to acting/performing.  I need to work on my imagination.  There should always be some story running.

We did end up tight-rope walking again; I didn't manage to move any further along the rope, though maybe I improved in other ways.  (Everyone made it across originally, while holding a hand on either side; it's the solo crossing that is difficult.)  I find the metaphor of this the strongest for acting: the end point (where you are focusing) is the objective, and between you and that point are all the steps/obstacles you have to negotiate first.  (And for the life of me I can't remember the term.)  Two-thirds done.  I wish it went on all summer, though admittedly, it'll be nice to have an evening free.

I was just about to skip clown jam, when one of the others came out and got me from the bus stop.  Also, I was about to give up on the whole thing, but then we generated a lot of story ideas today.  Stuff to explore further.  It looks like the next show will be more cohesive, if we can get enough people involved.  For now it's fleshing out and writing.

Happy Solstice!

Love

In spite of horrific loss, love won in Charleston today.  An individual who steeped himself in paranoia and hate vs. a culture of people who grew up in a community that nurtured love...love won.  Nine lives were snuffed out by hate, but love still won the day.  The family members forgave the gunman (who somehow needed to find some division, to create some "other," some "enemy" to hate)...love certainly won.

You will find what you look for, and you will grow what you feed...how are you spending your days?  What do you choose?

Off

Feeling exhausted.  Took the week off, made it out to Bainbridge Island for a change of scenery on Monday, and then pretty much did nothing yesterday (except class, and made a marginal risotto.)

In class we seem to be spending a lot of time on the forms/exercises (?) that give me anxiety, I guess it's good.  It's forcing me to work through it, and I need to.  It's partner work, and if I want to be an actor, it's kinda' a given.  I like how, with everything we do, they talk about how that relates to acting (focus, intention, presence, how you use your body (yesterday, there was a discussion of hand gestures, i.e., how do we use our hands on stage, when we are not actually searching for the right word, as we do in life), etc.)  I feel like a lot of times in past acting classes, when we've done warm-up exercises, we never really related it back to being on stage.  Obviously, it's related, but sometimes it feels assumed that we already knew, so it was never said.  And admittedly, I wasn't thinking about a larger picture.  I am finding that my eyes are not wandering as much, and I'm less self-conscious (most of the time) when we do statues, so that's an improvement.  Still, there's a lot to remember, and I don't always...but increments.

I've felt, when working on scenes, that things moved too fast to grab onto anything.  (I've mentioned this before.)  One of the nice thing about all the slow-tempo work we've been doing is that I'm connecting with the "circumstances' (or the moment) better.  And maybe that's the equivalent of doing a slow read, where you say one word at a time.  I'm finding it makes it easier for me to find the emotions, for them to grow organically.  Some playwrights put in a lot of stage direction regarding emotional states, and for me, not being that experienced of an actor, it feels very restrictive.  Like it takes me out of the moment to moment unfolding with the other actors/characters on stage because I'm worried about how I'm gonna make myself cry or scream where the script gives that direction, when I'm not finding that we are building to a point where that would naturally occur (so it feels forced.)  Something I'm working on.  Imaginary circumstances help, and that's getting easier to drop into.  (Plenty of playwrights don't dictate emotional states, they let you find it.  I've just worked on a lot that do, and I find myself focusing too much on that one moment at the expense of the whole picture.  A lot of people are really good at crying and screaming on cue, I'm not one of them.  I'm in awe of that ability.)

Tonight we'll be half-way through.  60 hours seemed like a lot of time to fill, and now it seems like hardly enough.

Weekend Two

Just got home from ETI's "All's Well That Ends Well," at 12th Ave Arts.  They did a good job; I had trouble reading through that one.  I thought Janet Hietter as Clown/Widow and Linda Cleckler as Lafeu/Duke were particularly outstanding; they made watching it fun.  They have a free show tomorrow night at Luther Burbank Park on Mercer Island, and are then taking it to Echo Glenn, after which the program is done and it's out into the world for them.  Congratulations to all of the ETI students.

Saw all eight performances of NWNW week two yesterday.  Impressions: OCD; Ritual; Timidity; Identity; Validation; Race; Authenticity; Reasons to Live; Dark.

My favorite was the last piece on the mainstage, PE/Mo's "Anatomy of an Accident."  I think there were eleven performers on stage.  My impression was that it had to do with racial profiling, not just by police, but by witnesses as well.  Assuming guilt.  Building up the story because you can.  Wondering what the "truth" of the moment was.  The movement was contained chaos, a contained violence, and at times I was concerned for the well-being of the performers as they smacked down to the ground, though my second thought was that they had really good fight choreography.  I was mostly engaged, and it was a potent piece of "theatre," save one bit with the "police woman" which came across as superficial, it was 30 seconds to a minute, and I couldn't tell you where it was (I'd have to see it again), but there seemed to be a lot of consideration in the rest of the piece, and this moment lacked that, it went for the general, and in that felt momentarily lazy, and as an audience member, you lost me, which is a shame.  Became a distraction to an otherwise powerful performance, which again I loved.  (I mention it because I've been reading Peter Brook's "The Empty Space.")  The choreography was fabulous.

My other two favorites were the theatre piece "Awaiting Oblivion or" by Tim Smith-Stewart, and "The Beautiful" by Dani Tirrell.  The latter dealing with how to find one's identity, how to be the "real" you as a gay, black man in America.  There was a bit about violence against transgender people as well.  (Which begs the question, "How is gay marriage or a transgender individual a threat to you?"  It has nothing to do with you.  It takes nothing away from your rights to marriage-and the legal privilege that distinction affords you, nor does it affect your own masculinity (or femininity, though most perpetrators of violence toward gays and transgenders tend to be male.)  It's a sad state of affairs that the violence has seen an uptick recently.  It was high when I first moved to Seattle back in the late 80's, as well, but it had seemed that as a society we had evolved beyond that in the intervening years.  So the recurrence makes me somewhat disappointed with humanity, here.)

"Awaiting Oblivion or" had to do with "How to be ok when everything is not ok-Temporary Solutions for surviving the dystopian future we find ourselves in at the present."  At one point there was a debate between Hedda (Hedda Gabler) and Nora (A Doll's House) with Hedda giving reasons to die, and Nora giving reasons to live.  I enjoyed the discussion.  They brought up "Thelma and Louise," that car plunging off into the Grand Canyon at the end.  And as a side note, I never really bought into that as a feminist statement (even though the screenwriter is considered a feminist.)  It always felt cheap to me, like the raw end of the stick.  Why is the only available way out for the women to die...how is that "winning" anything?  Is that the only option available to me as a woman?  Thelma made a series of bad choices and then Louise drowned with her in her vortex.  Louise had a decent life, a supportive partner, who even sent them money (which, through another one of Thelma's bad decisions, was lost.)  And the police investigator was on their side in the end, but both he and Louise's partner were ineffectual as heroes.  Enough digression, at the end of this performance there was an alternative ending to "Thelma and Louise," wherein they become praying mantises and escape to Mexico.  (Even becoming zombies and devouring the men would have been a preferable ending (for me), though admittedly, an entirely different genre of movie.)  When we did movie nights on campus in college, that was often the choice.  (And yes, it's just a movie, my problem isn't the movie itself, but that it became some feminist rallying cry.)

Kudos to all the performers and writers over the two weekends.  Thanks for putting yourself out there.

And all this inspired me to actually sit down and write two pages of a performance piece I've been thinking about.  I probably won't use these particular pages of writing, but I cracked open the mystery.

End of first week

Tightrope walking.  On the third pass I made about 1 1/2 steps after letting go of the hands.  I think I know why, I think I was too tentative with owning my own balance after letting go.  Not sure if we get another crack at it...the performance is soon, so we might not.

Even with skipping the walks today (I've injured my knee...I think it's because my back's messed up) I still feel really centered and grounded.  Have to figure out how to keep the practice when the training is over.

Third of the way done.

Day 4-Thursday

It's almost chilly out tonight, compared to how warm it's been.

There's this early point in Meisner where you do the chair work across from each other with your knees touching.  I can empathize at that distance, but not always pick up on impulses (my own or theirs.)  In class we've been doing partner work, playing with distance, focus, connection, presence.  (And I've always had this dread of partner work, when you have to choose/be chosen, I always feel like I'm gonna be the odd one out, the kid who can't play sports that no one wants on their team, the one that gets picked last.  And I think I take myself out before it comes to choosing, to avoid the humiliation of rejection.  It's an old pattern.  It makes me think of playing "duck, duck, goose," which I hated.  It's why I held back and resisted the grid work last year.  It's also self-fulfilling, I think, to create an aloofness that keeps people at a distance.  At any rate, it's not an option now.)  We did a lot of mirroring last night.  It's a lot like dancing (and in fact, when the exercise was over, I had impulse to curtsy, as did my partner last night) where there is a soft enough focus that you are more in tune with each other.  I'd forgotten about struggling with this last year, the keeping connected to your partner (or however many people are on stage) wherever they are on stage, without having to keep eye contact.  It's funny, it's seems like it should be easy, we do it all the time in life, but something about being on stage, in an imaginary world, with other people's words, inhabiting someone else's life, with the awareness of other people watching, a self-consciousness, makes it more difficult.  I'm glad we are doing it.

Another funny thing, is that I don't really feel like I know the song, if you asked me to sing it now, I wouldn't be able to do it, but in the group, doing other actions, giving and receiving energy across distance, I can get a lot of the lyrics.  (Again, it's partly because the pressure is off.  It's that non-perfection, no shame, atmosphere.)

And I made up my routine thing during lunch, thinking we'd do it in a big group like everything else.  But when she asked people who had one ready to go up, I went up, and only about a third of the class had one ready (I had an "oh sh..." moment, but after going up, might as well go through with it and not back down.  Again, it's never gonna be perfect.)  And I still thought, well, okay, we'll do this together.  But, no.  Smaller group.  And then again individually.  I forgot part of mine (movement for seven words); amusingly, the one I forgot was "remember."  I'll probably refine it, but I'm glad to have done it already.  I think they will somehow be incorporated into the performance piece.

The centering is lasting longer.  Imaginary worlds would help me with the statues.  So glad I signed up for this.

Day 3

The crows are dive-bombing the unsuspecting on the other side of the door.  I've been hearing their caws reverberating in the foyer for the past couple of hours.  I shall avoid...if I remember.

More sore today, but still not as bad as I was anticipating.  This has thankfully not been as brutal as the intensive last fall, and that was only eight hours.  I'm starting to get the form better, at least in some parts; my focus is improving.  (Statues are the hardest for me.  I'm thinking too much about it.)  I don't have the song memorized yet.  I don't know what anything is called.  Need to finish my movement-daily-ritual-story thing.  Might change it over the weekend, but we need something today.  I've got about half the names of the classmates down (but I remember where people are from, for some reason.)  I remember people, for the most part, remember stories or where we met, but have become really bad with names.

The process of creating the performance is cool.  Have not quite done this before, trying to figure out the acting/not acting line.  There's no speaking, but still need to figure out who I am in the moment, and why I'm there, and what I want.  In some ways that's easier without words to get in the way.  I don't have to memorize and internalize anyone else's words, but then I do have to remember to not stay in my own head.  With words, there is an obvious out-put, without them, I need to remind myself that there's still that exchange of energy; still a story being told.  I need to figure out what my story is, and that changes with every entrance, as the characters change.

The basic form/story was already there, but is being adjusted for the space, for the sheer amount of people on the stage, the entrances, exits, crossings, interactions.  We have worked on about 3 1/2 minutes so far.  I think I heard it will be 21 minutes.  I hope someone tapes it, I want to see the final piece (as well as be in it.)

Day 2

Right now, I feel good.  Right now, I feel like this is the lowest anxiety I've ever had for any class much less a theatre class.  Partially that's due to the size of the class (close to 50); partially that's due to the idea of "perfect," "mastery," and "final goal," being off of the table, that the class has people of every level within it, and everyone learns from everyone else; and partly that might be due to previous work that I've done (Meisner, Clown, last Suzuki drop-in I did.)  I don't feel quite so scattered and desperately trying to remember everything (though I know I'm not remembering everything, I'm more relaxed about that, I guess I don't feel like I'll be shamed for not knowing everything and being perfect.  Last night he said something about when you think you have nothing left to learn, your artistic life is dead.  And I don't need to prove anything to anyone else, I'm doing this to be better than I was.)

This morning, I noticed I was walking more solidly.  Tonight, while sitting on the bus, I felt centered (last hour +, my group was doing ki work.)

In some ways, I suppose this work is closer to clown than most western theatre in that the mask is gone, in clown you are sharing what you are feeling/experiencing with the audience (and breaking the fourth wall), and in this work it's not about the performer/individual but rather what their intention and focus causes you as an audience member to see.  (You are noticing my attention on something else, the thing I'm focusing on is what's important, not me, I'm just letting you know about it.)  I think.  That's what I got tonight.  (Oh, and the idea of focusing my energy on one thing at a time.)

I'm oddly without any physical pain tonight, but we used our quads a lot, so...might be feeling that in a couple of days.  Also, really hungry, but I took most of my food to work and left it there (because it was hot out.)  Energy bars just not cutting it.

Day one over

Well, aside from the fact of my feet killing me, not too scary afterall.  We only did "drills" for the first 2 1/2 hours, the rest of the time was spent creating a performance piece...we have a performance on day 14.  I wasn't expecting that (I had no idea what to expect, I just wanted more theatre training/exposure) so that's an awesome bonus.  We have to create a "routine" by Thursday, and I still need to memorize the song in Japanese.  No idea what to expect still, lots of hours to fill, but I'll let the anxiety go, I think I'm in good hands.

Sweltering in the studio and at the house.  It's supposed to cool down a little tomorrow.  Chance of seeing the Northern Lights later tonight.  So tired now, don't think I can wake up for it.

Sudden onslaught

Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves. Nerves.

No idea what to expect.

New things

Day 1.  Sunny with a cool breeze and bird song to start the day.  Had a vertigo spell yesterday, when I mentioned it to a friend later, she handed me her phone number and said if it happened in class I could call her and she'd pick me up.  Also, I was mentioning needing head shots and she asked what I was afraid of.  I don't know, I should figure that out.  (As to why I'm making up obstacles for myself.)

At any rate, time to let the failure begin.

Addendum

I wanted to add one more thing about the Markeith Wiley piece.  Near the end, the shadow takes off her mask and hood, stating something to the effect that she's tired, at which point, Wiley walks off the stage.  She's a white woman.  It brings to mind the idea that you can't just take off the color of your skin, (or your gender, sexual orientation, nationality, etc. when you get tired.)  It's not a game.  The discrimination you face is relentless until things around us change, until we all change our own prejudice.

In the lottery of life I'm a white-skinned, straight, woman, born in the USA (which neither makes me better nor worse than anyone else; it's what I am.)  My mother has brown skin, she's Hispanic/Filipino.  My sister is dark, my brother is as well, though he can more easily pass as white.  I don't know how my mother deals with the constant onslaught of anti-brown-skinned people, anti-Hispanic rhetoric, I hear it spoken in her presence and I want to lash out.  We always seem to need to have some "group" to make an enemy and blame all of society's problems on.  It's an ugly, dangerous road.  Fix yourself first.  There are good and bad elements/characteristics in every group, in each of us as individuals.

I think that moment was probably the most important part of his performance.

NWNW One

I can hear the (happy?) screams of little kids through my window...it's after 11:30, think there was a "princess" party up the street earlier, maybe it's still going on.  It's a nice night out, too warm to be inside, really.  (Seriously, there's a pub across the street and I can't hear them at all.)

So, went to the other half of NWNW Festival, weekend one, tonight.  LED, Travis Clark & Benjamin Kamino, Members of the Seattle Irish Dance Company, and Jessica Jobaris & General Magic.  Impressions: my favorite was LED's Barbarian Princess, based on the life and art of Zelda Fitzgerald.  There were six dancers, and one (multi-instrument-and-singing musican), plus writing and pictures projected on a screen in the back.  While I didn't necessarily follow the story (if there was on), and so also didn't get the wardrobe change, I loved the choreography, the way the bodies moved, the way they occupied the space, how they transported themselves and each other through it.  At one point, I was watching only the musician (Andrew Stensaas), because I realized he was the one singing, that it wasn't a recording.  The whole thing made me think that maybe actors sometimes get lost in the words, there are too many words, the words become too important, and the message gets lost.  I don't know what the remedy is, or if one is even needed...this from an actor/writer who is using a lot of words.

How does one choose to occupy space?

Travis Clarke & Benjamin Kamino The Journey It Takes.  (More words.)  Morse code.  Emily Dickinson.  Isolation.  Separation.  Wanting to connect.  Not knowing how.  Nothing works.  Nothing gets through.  One-sided.  Oblivious.  So what I saw was one person staying on course and oblivious to the other person who wants to connect and keeps reaching out in various attempts but getting no response.  And finally (rather than giving up, so good for him) he physically throws himself in the path of the other to get his attention, there was some connection, meeting at that point, and it ended shortly after.  I kinda' wanted it to go a bit longer in order to see if the first one would just crawl over and continue on his way or if the second one succeeded in capturing his attention for real, not just becoming a nuisance or an obstacle that one has to overcome.  I hope so (but we don't always.)  That said, probably not about that at all.  (And this was the one coming into it that I was most interested in seeing, there's nothing in the program though, to explain anything.  I'd seen a write-up of a previous performance art piece by Travis Clarke, and I like his work.)

Seattle Irish Dance Company.  Two talented dancers and a fiddle player.  They were good, don't think there was a story in there.

Jessica Jobaris & General Magic A Great Hunger.  From the description in the program, it had to do with a friend's suicide fifteen years ago.  Maybe it was stages of processing that.  Or perhaps elements of that relationship.  Not sure what the nudity or simulated sex acts had to do with that, though some of the other visual elements (especially the opening sequences) might have.  That was the crowd favorite of the night.  It was interesting to watch, and I enjoyed the dancing, I just couldn't follow it.

So last night.  Faith Helma I HATE POSTIVE THINKING.  I guess I'd categorize it as a solo performance.  She was talking about the difference between manifesting something due to positive thinking vs. putting an idea in your head and then being more attuned to opportunity around you and so spotting it and acting on it when you notice it.  What struck me most of her performance was her discussion of how when we are learning things as a baby or a little kid, our failures are something to be celebrated because we are trying and we will get there, but then somehow when we get older failure becomes something to be ashamed about...why is that?  When does this happen?  (I was reading something about that earlier in the day.)  I think she told us to go out and fail at something tomorrow.  (Don't know if I did.)  And then she danced like a fool for 30 seconds to fail at something for us.

Markeith Wiley 31 and Counting.  I think it was supposed to be a conversation about race (he's black.)  He had a shadow follow him and copy his movements (and who could dance really well.  The shadow was a white woman, dressed in black, her head and face covered in black.)  He puts on "approachable" clothing and starts talking about being the exception (my words), but his words are drowned out by the music the DJ is playing.  Part of me wanted to be in front of him to hear what he was saying (I was on the opposite side of the theatre), but part of me believed that the point was that his words are getting drowned out in the conversation.  I was getting that the point was that he wasn't being heard, and yet I actually wanted to hear what he had to say.

The other two, Violets on Smoke and Nancy Ellis...I don't know how to talk about either one.  I liked them, but yeah, I don't know how to talk about them.  Maybe it will come to me later.  I have used many words, so I will stop.

Friday

This year's NWNW Festival at On the Boards is heavy on the dance (weekend two is mostly dance.)  Attended the first night of the Studio Showcase earlier tonight: Violets on Smoke Rooms, Faith Helma I HATE POSITIVE THINKING, Makeith Wyeth 31 and Counting, and Nancy Ellis Nancy's NANCY.  (I'll write more on this, working one more film festival shift, shortly.)

Earlier I'd gone to a screening of The Glamour and the Squalor at the Harvard Exit.  A documentary on the radio DJ, Marco Collins, who pretty much changed the music landscape of the early nineties by breaking bands on KNDD in Seattle.  I remember my friends and I feeling hopeful and excited when we started seeing signs around that there was gonna be a new radio station...it was such a dismal radio market if you weren't into testosterone-fueled rock or oldies.  (There were the college radio stations, but there was some weird programming thing going on at KCMU (now KEXP) and people were boycotting it.)  I was going to a lot of shows, finding out about bands through record stores and friends, but there wasn't much airplay of stuff I liked.  When it came on the air it was such a breath of fresh air, like "someone gets me."  (Me and thousands of others.)  Music has always been to me, not just something in the background, but as necessary as breathing.  If I listen to it (and even more so when I was younger) I really listen to it, I pretty much stop doing anything else.  So if I hate the music, it's incredibly grating, and they were playing things I loved.  I just remember that first night it went on the air and being so happy.  (And hearing veteran DJ's Pat O'Day and Marty Reimer basically speak their minds about radio in the film, how calculated and controlling the format is, was incredibly refreshing.)

It was such a perfect moment.  (And I hadn't realized how many risks he was taking to get the music on the air, i.e., the time he locked the station, turned out the lights, unplugged the phones and fax machine and played the entire "Vitalogy" album before it was released.  Nor how many musicians can thank him for having a career, because if he liked it and played it, other venues picked it up.)  Marco is not on the radio now, except as a guest DJ sometimes on KEXP (which is the only radio station in this market regularly playing new music.)  I think there may come a time again where people want that gatekeeper again, there is so much out there with the internet, how do you find the gem amidst it all?

And while it wasn't quite as deep (it's close) as the Cobain documentary (which he was involved with as well), it was pretty honest about who he is, what he's been through (the bullying, the addictions, his sexuality.)  Pretty vulnerable to put that out there.  Just makes me like him more, and appreciate everything he's done more.

Last week of the Festival

After hemming a bit due to the lateness of the screening, I went to the Uptown for an earlier screening of "Saved from the Flames" a collection of short films that were saved from destruction by archivists and preservationists.  Most were pre-1920's, included the films "A Trip to the Moon" (1902), Buster Keaton's "The Love Nest" (1923), the animated "Balloon Land" (1936), and a ten-minute ride on the front of a trolley down Market St. in San Franscisco, shot a few days before the 1906 earthquake, followed by footage from the same area after the quake, among others.  Presented by Serge Bromberg who provided commentary regarding each film and live piano to score them.  Very entertaining and informative, but ran late, so the other film, "Don't Think I've Forgotten," then started about 40 minutes late.  Went out to wait in a surprisingly long line to get back in, two full houses on a Tuesday night.  The line wrapped around the side of the building and more than half-way again through the alley.  Fading light.  Spitting rain.  Smoke from the Mexican kitchen.  The smell of dumpsters.  Graffiti'd walls.  Spent the first half of the film wondering how I would get home, and if I should leave early, but I was in a middle seat and the film was engaging, so I stayed.  In the end it got out at 11:30 pm, so was able to catch a bus, without too long of a wait, and there were plenty of people at the Downtown stop.  Got home at close to 1 am.

"Don't Think I've Forgotten" was the movie I'd most wanted to see during the festival.  It's the history of Cambodia from the time the French left to the fall of Pol Pot, told through the lens of youth culture/artists/musicians of the time, and more importantly, a history mostly told from the point-of-view of Cambodians who lived through it (many did not.)  It's something we should know.  Eye-opening and heartbreaking (and remorse-inducing.)  Worth staying up for.

Playing again in July.  Worth seeing.

Not happening

Well, the Studio Series I applied for isn't going to happen this summer, due to a lack of applicants, which is a shame.  I'm disappointed, I really wanted to do this.  I guess August has freed up, and I'll have to figure out what I'm gonna do instead.   Another friend might be able to do a temporary head-shot for me, so I need to follow-up.  Guess this is another push to get out there and audition...though I really wanted outside feedback on the solo piece, I'm not sure anyone bothered to read them, since there weren't enough applicants; the feedback I've had so far was vague: "Why didn't you take your clothes off?" (Because it wasn't about that, and that would've taken too much time.)  "Why didn't you speak in French if you were in France?"  (Because the people in that part of the story did not speak to me in French, and I wanted to differentiate their voices from my own, and the ones in my head.)  I'm never really gonna be ready, but working on scripted shows is what I want to do right now, so I need to stop making excuses and just do it.  (And with both this and the clown showcase cancelled, I will be able to attend all 60 hours of the physical theatre workshop this month - the mandatory meeting for the Studio Series and the clown showcase were both conflicts.)