Scientific Method

Johnny Blazes describes hirself as a bricoleur, an artist who uses materials on hand to create new works. And ze has done it again. Blazes has collaborated with local artist/performer Madge of Honor to put together a new monthly show in Boston, the likes of which you will have never seen, and won't be able to see twice.

The show, which is aptly named Hypothesis, is a showcase of all kinds of performers (poets, songwriters, jugglers, burlesque dancers, etc). Here's the catch, each performer is challenged by Blazes and Madge to create a brand new performance piece that is both entertaining and intellectually engaging. The challenge to the artists changes each month.

Last Tuesday, 9/21, the theme was "Reinvention." Performers were asked to perform a classic piece in the first half of the show, a piece they had performed before and that they knew was successful. In the second half, the performers presented a re-invented version of the same work, changing mood, perspective or media in order to bring new meaning to the art.

The night featured performances from Kirby Bits (drag/burlesque), Ben Reynolds (object manipulation), Alicia Greene (poetry and dance), and Simon Rios (singer/songwriter/guitarplayer), and of course from Johnny Blazes and Madge of Honor. After the show the Audio Chemists rocked a dance party until wee hours while guests sipped on fluorescent elixirs.

The show was amazing and I am so glad I went. Each artist's attempt at subverting themselves in their re-invention of their "classic" piece, was met with laughter, gasps, tears, murmured affirmations, and sometimes even outright shouts of delight from the crowd.

Others acts, such as Reynold's unbelievably fluid object manipulation and Johnny's character piece were filtered through a change in mood.

Johnny performed hir classic piece in which ze enthusiastically puts clothes ON to the song "I'm Bringing Sexy Back."  In the second act Johnny re-entered in a fit of emotional agony, having been rejected by an unseen partner. Ze followed all of hir original choreography, only this time hir movements were set to "Cry Me a River," and included clown-sized displays of sorrow and despair, which brought both loud "awws," and laughter from the audience.

Other artists took the idea of self subversion to a very personal level. Simon Rios presented a song in the first act that was an open letter to a friend of his who is suffering from alcoholism. And in the second act, Simon sang a song from his friend's point of view. In this imaginary response, Rios took on his friend's voice and accused himself of a laundry list of faults. As he sang the audience listened thoughtfully, and I believe, listened without judging him. I looked around and saw people nodding their heads, wiping tears from their eyes. And when he was finished the cheering shook the Midway.

One of the highlights of the night for me was watching Madge of Honor's re-invented version of a piece I'll call "Bounce." In the original  burlesque piece Madge's* tassel-twirling skills are comically rendered in a dance that never gets to progress past the first few measures of the song as the soundtrack continues to reset itself. In the second half Madge performed the same piece, but with an easel holding up a giant pad of paper. On the sheets Madge carefully had prepared an "Inner Monologue" in thick black marker. As the dance progressed, Madge removed sheet by sheet to reveal Madge's thought process. Some of the thoughts were comical, and others were self -disparaging. The crowd got into it, yelling responses to the revelations, and the piece quickly became interactive in a way that challenged the audience to look at their own perspectives on the art of burlesque.

I think this project is a wonderful idea, and I'm not just saying it because Blazes is an old and dear friend of mine. Asking creators to think about what message they are sending in their art produces bold and inspiring new works, that might otherwise not have come into being.

There's no other show in Boston where you will cry as a songwriter bemoans himself for his hypocrisy, and moments later laugh out loud as a drag queen grandiosely gestures towards her tiny, sparkled, limp member.

I can't wait to see what's cooked up in the lab next month.

The next Hypothesis will be tested in October with the theme of "Matter/AntiMatter."

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* Because I do not know which pronouns Madge prefers I am going to refer to Madge as Madge throughout this section so please bear with me.

"'Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation"

Finally sitting down to write down my opinions of In the Heights last week reminded me that I never wrote about my experiences with theater while I was in London.

When John and I arrived at Shakespeare's Globe I reverted to a fifteen year old English lit geek. I don't remember what John and I talked about in queue because I was memorizing the details of the lobby. I took dozens of photos which I deleted later because although each photo op seemed pressing in the heat of the moment, I really didn't need pictures of the door handles and floor of the (all modern) lobby.

We bought tickets to Henry IV Part One, and although I was disappointed that our plan to see Macbeth had been thwarted by box office sales I agreed with John when he said "you can't really beat seeing Henry the Fourth at the Globe Theater."

Obviously, it's not the original Globe Theater, which burnt down in 1613 and was rebuilt on the same site. The second theater was shut down in 1642 by Puritan rule. This replica is as authentic as possible,  built in 1997 (through the efforts of an American actor/director), a mere matter of meters away from the site of the first (and second) Globe Theaters. It was the first building allowed to have a thatched roof after the Great Fire  of London.

Original thatched roof or not,  to watch Shakespeare performed by some of the world's best known classical actors in a space that aims to duplicate the experiences had by Shakespeare's first audiences, is a treat.  We took our place in the Yard with the other groundlings, and I took approximately a gazillion more photos of the intricate interior of the theater as we awaited the start of the show.

My hand touching the stage. I'm in heaven.

The show opened with a flourish of dance and music. All the instruments were period, and played by actors. Mummers with grotesque and exaggerated costume pieces staged a comedic street performance on a platform smack dab in the midst of the groundlings. After a bit of bawdy banter they were interrupted by the entrance of  King Henry, sir Walter Blunt and the rest of the King's court who then proceeded to take the stage and dive into the plot.

All the characters were strong. Hotspur (Sam Crane)  and his unintentionally comical bursts of temper.  Prince Hal (Jamie Parker) with his boyish grin, and torn loyalties to street life and prince-dom.  King Henry (Oliver Cotton) with his loving but firm reproach of his son's behavior. In fact, the highly complicated relationship Cotton and Parker created between this famous father and a son very nearly brought me to tears several times. Still one man managed to steal my heart the show.

Every critic has said it in one way or another, but in the event that you're not keeping up on reviews of shows in London right now I'll say it too: Roger Allam was born to play Falstaff. He's exactly what you want in a Falstaff: a booming voice, impossibly expressive face, and dead on sense of timing. Allam's Falstaff doesn't shy away from the parts of his character that are disgusting (binge eating, drinking to excess, lying and thievery to name a few), and still comes off as the lovable, mischievous man we all would gladly share a bar counter with. If only for the stories we could tell later.

The show ends after the Battle of Shrewsbury with all out reveling and a full cast song and dance number, the nature of which made me feel as though I were actually peeking into a tavern window in the 1400s and not standing on concrete in an open air theater with hundreds of strangers.

I would absolutely love to see Part Two. Anyone want to fly to London for a matinée?

light and sweet

As an early, early, early birthday present Colleen W. took me to see In The Heights.  ITH is the brain child of Lin-Manuel Miranda,which means I should not have doubted at all that I would love it. But still, I was nervous.

See, Collen loves the show so much that I was afraid it wouldn't live up to her praise and then  I'd be stuck looking for nice things to say about it. "Good... costumes..." I imagined I'd say before pretending to fall asleep for the 4 hour drive home.

But after seeing the show live, I simply can't get it out of my mind. It's been on my ipod nonstop, a dedicated playlist, so I thought I ought to nod to it on the blog a bit. The show is fresh, fun, moving and really catchy.

The multi-level set impressed me
with its depth and detail

Plot wise, the show has just enough principal characters to keep me actively thinking, but not so many that I wasn't invested in the arch of each person's story. Additionally, there are always other characters on stage. Neighbors in windows, strangers walking across the street, other principal characters carrying out their own plot points in street lamp lit pantomime. Watching it, I felt like the constant presence of people on the stage gave the show its own kind of life. It's like the show itself is beating and breathing.

The music, as one would expect from Miranda and Lacamoire is spectacular. Steve Gilbane took the words out of my mouth when he wrote to me that "it pulled off a convincing broadway-latin-rap mix, which I would have thought was impossible." Huge sweeping broadway numbers, heartbreaking "I Wish," and "I Am" songs, and fabulously sexy latin beats. The various musical hooks and themes weave together in sometimes surprising ways to create delightful layering of ideas and emotions (and yes, cultures).

The deliberate repetition of phrases and words throughout the show has a similar effect. Although some of the lyrics stood out as a bit heavy handed ("we're powerLESS, we are POWERless," sing the oppressed residents of Washington Heights when the electricity goes out) all can be forgiven in the far more frequent moments of word play brilliance.  A lot of it (and here I'm thinking mainly of the hip hop) comes across as almost improvised. The irregular syntax of the rapping creates a genuine rap battle feel to certain pieces. The dancing follows the dynamic sound, natch, and there's just as much popping and locking as there is salsa, as there is modern movement.

Plus, I'm a sucker for sad songs, "belters", and well-placed foreign phrases with flare. Abeula Claudia killed me every time she took the focus, and sometimes even when she didn't.

As a writer I appreciate that the story doesn't wrap up like a fairy tale. Or maybe I just appreciate that as a person.

As we were leaving, the conductor stood up to stretch and Colleen grabbed my arm. "That's Alex Lacamoire" she hissed. As it turns out, we got to hear the show as orchestrated by the Musical Director himself The music conducted just as it is intended to be played!*  

Colleen with Christopher Jackson

Then, outside the stage door Colleen and I got to met some of the cast. I got Courtney Reed's autograph. She usually plays Carla, but I got to see her as Vanessa. Colleen got her photo taken with Christopher Jackson.

Meanwhile, my awareness of Lin-Manuel Miranda and the work he's doing just sky rocketed.

This is him performing "Hamilton Mixtape" with Alex Lacamoire at the White House:  http://www.whitehouse.gov/photos-and-video/video/lin-manuel-miranda-performs-white-house-poetry-jam-8-8

*Incidentally, (and here a shameless plug) the audiences at Gorefest get the very same privilege!!

Twilight

I am reading the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer. I picked them up as a distraction from the serious things in life. Wise move. They are absolutely entertaining. However, despite being thoroughly entertained, I am finding a lot to complain about.

Laura is also reading them. So right in my cozy little apartment I have someone to commiserate with about generally bad writing, transparent characters, a predictable and hole-filled plot and persistent themes of misogyny. Monday afternoon we sat in separate rooms, each with a big thick book and a blanket and yelled at the books. A lot.

I am already on the third book as you read this, but for what it's worth I have prepared my impression of the first.

There are probably spoilers, but if you don't already know the plot you live under a rock/are Stephanie Jones, and it won't matter anyway.

It's raining.
Edward: Stay away! I am no good for you.

Bella: Fine. No wait. You monster. I can't.

Edward: I know. It's inevitable. We're fated. I'm a vampire.

Bella: Kiss me!

Edward: (almost touching her) No! We can't! I am..... a vampire.

Bella: I know that already! But I love you and do not care that you have no soul!

Human Guy Chorus: Bella, you are pretty! Date me!

Bella: Go away! I only like vampires.

Edward: Bella, if you know what's good for you, you will stay away. Because I am a vampire.

Bella: Let's keep having this conversation over and over, I will never get tired of it.

Charlie: Hi, everyone. I'm her Dad.

.....SILENCE.......

Bella: Help! Help! I almost died again! I am so clumsy!

Edward: Oh! I have saved your life only to push you away again! Now my eyes are smoldering.

Bella: I am grateful and I hate you and I love you.

Edward: You should hate me. But since you don't I will now command your every move and be jealous of everyone else you know. That's what love is.

Bella: Yes. Yes it is.

Jacob: Werewolves exist. That's all. Certainly not foreshadowing.

Bella: I no longer need family or friends because I have found true love!

Edward: You also no longer need any of your own ideas or interests! Our entire relationship can just be based on our forbidden love and discussions about it.

Bella: Thank goodness!

Bella's Narration: There are so many things I'm pretending to not know yet!

Edward: And now I will now dismiss about 150 years of literary tradition about the Undead in a few quick lines.

Bella: Ooooh! Sparkly!


Still I am addicted to reading them. It's all junk food. I know it's bad for me but I don't want to stop. I suppose that since I have no comparable reality t.v obsession I've already made up my mind to forgive this new vice in my life because at least it's a fun escape.

Mmmmm.... teenaged vampire romance. It makes my brain all slow and happy.

So what I'm saying is, this is not the last you will hear about my new favorite fiction and addiction. For better or for worse.

Recommended Reading

I read a lot of books, and not surprisingly, have read quite a few about homelessness. Here are my top recommendations right now. In order of most enjoyable to most informative:

The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls
Entertaining and at times shocking, Walls' short memoir is plot and character driven. The narrative moves quickly and smoothly with realistic dialogue and genuine, three dimensional portraits of her family members. My favorite thing about it was that Walls never explains what you're supposed to think of her disjointed childhood and her homeless parents. She just tells you about them. A quick read, and an amazing story that anyone could enjoy.

The Mole People, Jennifer Toth
I can not recommend this book enough. My copy is worn and torn and currently on loan to someone. What Toth found when she went beneath the streets to clarify the "mole people" myth was astonishing. Her book is fluid and honest. She covers identities as requested, and even reveals some as requested. There are photos. Amazing journalism for such a young person. This book does not reflect the experience of all homeless people, however it forces the reader to start really expanding his or her understanding of homelessness.
Actually, even if you really don't care about homelessness as a social issue, it's just a fascinating study of behaviors and the human mind. For example, several of the communities Toth visited operated under their own governmental systems. They had mayors and regulators. They had electricity siphoned from the subway, and runners who brought food down. And they preferred this life in the tunnels to life above ground as we know it, and they adapted.
Others of course, had no choice originally and then lost the ability to ever make the choice again.
The first time I read it I did not know any homeless people personally. It helped me to look at people in all walks of life in a whole new way. Now that I work with this population every day, each time I re-read the stories I see something new I didn't see before.

Songs from the Alley, Kathleen Hirsch

Great for people who love history and/or Boston history specifically and/or who are seeking more information about homelessness in the Hub. The dense didactic passages peppered with names and dates are staggering at first, but are for the most part skillfully blended into the stories of two different homeless women in the 1980s.
The descriptions of the women's experiences create a counterpoint to the historical time line as Pine Street Inn and other recognizable services get on their feet. The dichotomy of the two narratives serves to illustrate two variations of "homeless life." Because the stories are paired with the nitty gritty of the socio-political and historical backdrop the reader walks away with more than just a sentimental feeling about two street women, but with a fresh understanding of the causes of homelessness as well as knowledge of the roots of all our current programming. And hopefully, therefore, with a better understanding of what changes may need to be made for the future.