I'm Chevy Chase and you're not.
At present, I sit in the design studio watching Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet and working on multiple projects. Of the last 38 hours, I have spent 34 1/2 of them in Zoellner (and counting). Last night, I was woken up at 6 in the morning by a Brownie. I was sleeping on the floor of the design studio, and couldn't remember getting there. That was fun.
Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead.
On the plus side, I think I've gotten some good stuff from Silverado as far as physicality and voice goes. Still waiting on a good speech though. Speak, Silverado, speak.
In actual acting news, whilst watching the scene in Hamlet where Claudius sends his nephew to England, I had a most unusual moment. As Kenneth Branagh was taunting Derek Jacobi, I thought to myself that, were I Claudius, I would knock Hamlet on his ass right about now. Sure enough, within ten seconds, Claudius hauls off and backhands Hamlet. 'Twas a happy moment.
That's the news, goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thoughts from Playwriting Candidate Workshop 4 of 6
Yesterday's candidate was interesting. My feelings about him are mixed. I'm not sure I agreed with him philosophically on the issue of stage directions. I very much enjoy a play that has thick, rich, vivid descriptions of characters, elaborating on their style of dress, their manner, and a number of other facets of the character which the playwright may not want to just give away through dialog. Reading bits like these in the middle of a play is like a breath of prose amidst the theatrical dialog.
While I enjoyed the class as a general theatre workshop, I'm not sure how much I enjoyed it as a writing workshop. Maybe if he had given more of an idea as to how he would apply the stuff that we did. I enjoyed the dialog/subtext exercise, although I felt like we were cut off right as we were about to really break through somewhere (since we hadn't fully figured out if my character was a sweet innocent guy or a guy pretending to be sweet and innocent who was actually going to keep Bess in a well in the basement). But, time constraints are what they are.
All in all, I'd say this is a candidate I could see myself working with next year, but I'm not sure if he was my favorite thus far.
While I enjoyed the class as a general theatre workshop, I'm not sure how much I enjoyed it as a writing workshop. Maybe if he had given more of an idea as to how he would apply the stuff that we did. I enjoyed the dialog/subtext exercise, although I felt like we were cut off right as we were about to really break through somewhere (since we hadn't fully figured out if my character was a sweet innocent guy or a guy pretending to be sweet and innocent who was actually going to keep Bess in a well in the basement). But, time constraints are what they are.
All in all, I'd say this is a candidate I could see myself working with next year, but I'm not sure if he was my favorite thus far.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Why does every one of these become an orgy?
Yet again, I post from my other class, in an effort to avoid falling asleep.
The Alexander warmup was nice. I felt lighter, on my feet and in my general movement. I enjoyed the idea of a slow warmup, people stretching and preparing not so they can get on with things, but just to luxuriate in the moment, the movement, and the place and time.
I think I might have broken the door during the two-person scenes. Maybe. A little bit.
I enjoyed the moment of Brechtian discovery when the scene turned to theatre style. I guess my lens was pulled a little far back for that exercise, because the first thing I thought of when she said we were theatre kids was alcohol.
While we were breaking down the different ways that cultures check out attractive people, I came up with one constant: the eyes. Regardless of what silly body or hand gestures or funny little phrases we use, so much of that sizing up process comes back to our eyes. I definitely agree, though, that Justin and I are not the best representatives of the male demographic at large.
Personal ambition: someday, I will find a way to use the word jökulhlaup in conversation. And it will be good.
Why did every one of those pickup scenes degenerate into canoodling? Again, I think this one goes back to physical comfort, and comfort among the class. We all know one another well enough that we can, for the purposes of a brief scene, skip all of the blah blah blah of pickups and get straight to the physical interaction, which is far more interesting to watch anyway.
I came up with a big one that we forgot from the 70's cultural list. Burt. Reynolds.
Whilst Internetting, I found what may be the worst commercial ever. It seems especially relevant since we were talking about the 80's (and since the Super Bowl is coming up again).
Laters.
The Alexander warmup was nice. I felt lighter, on my feet and in my general movement. I enjoyed the idea of a slow warmup, people stretching and preparing not so they can get on with things, but just to luxuriate in the moment, the movement, and the place and time.
I think I might have broken the door during the two-person scenes. Maybe. A little bit.
I enjoyed the moment of Brechtian discovery when the scene turned to theatre style. I guess my lens was pulled a little far back for that exercise, because the first thing I thought of when she said we were theatre kids was alcohol.
While we were breaking down the different ways that cultures check out attractive people, I came up with one constant: the eyes. Regardless of what silly body or hand gestures or funny little phrases we use, so much of that sizing up process comes back to our eyes. I definitely agree, though, that Justin and I are not the best representatives of the male demographic at large.
Personal ambition: someday, I will find a way to use the word jökulhlaup in conversation. And it will be good.
Why did every one of those pickup scenes degenerate into canoodling? Again, I think this one goes back to physical comfort, and comfort among the class. We all know one another well enough that we can, for the purposes of a brief scene, skip all of the blah blah blah of pickups and get straight to the physical interaction, which is far more interesting to watch anyway.
I came up with a big one that we forgot from the 70's cultural list. Burt. Reynolds.
Whilst Internetting, I found what may be the worst commercial ever. It seems especially relevant since we were talking about the 80's (and since the Super Bowl is coming up again).
Laters.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sex: Recreation and Procreation
Tons of fun this class was.
I enjoyed being able to recline, relax and breathe before class. However, I haven't been able to breathe through my nose for the last day or two. Curse you, immune system! Maybe if I got more than two hours of sleep a night...
I think the reason why being a caveman is so very fun is because cavemen are in that place somewhere in between animals and humans. I've always enjoyed imitating animals because that's how you get started as a kid. You're playing around outside and you act like the dog or you meow at the cat. I guess I've never grown out of that childish joy. And I hope I never will.
The group improv was quite successful, because we stuck to the main rule of improvisation: agreement. The five of us agreed and committed to the collective choice of the New Age-y society which has weaponized positive and negative vibes, and so we were able to create with the full support of the ensemble. Yet another case where I'm glad that we're in an advanced acting class. Were we not, someone would have wound up being self-conscious and not committed to the absurdity of the scene, and it would have fallen apart.
I suspect that we all hang around each other too much, because we almost unfailingly came up with the same ideas regarding behavior in the different eras in history and places. There actually were a lot of things going on in the 20's, but we all came up with smoking and Roaring 20's-style activity. Maybe we need to broaden our horizons.
I've been observing Silverado and have made some fun observations about shklim (kudos if you got the reference). Just some fun little things with voice and body, mannerisms and quirks that are so distinctive that you don't notice them anymore when interacting with the person. I just need to make sure that I don't start aping these traits in everyday life. That would be weird.
Just for the hell of it, here's an interesting segment on Modern Marvels about the history of bowling ball technology. In reality, it's only the tip of the iceberg as far as the analysis can go, but not bad for an eight-minute segment which has to start from the ground up.
I'm out like something that's no longer in.
I enjoyed being able to recline, relax and breathe before class. However, I haven't been able to breathe through my nose for the last day or two. Curse you, immune system! Maybe if I got more than two hours of sleep a night...
I think the reason why being a caveman is so very fun is because cavemen are in that place somewhere in between animals and humans. I've always enjoyed imitating animals because that's how you get started as a kid. You're playing around outside and you act like the dog or you meow at the cat. I guess I've never grown out of that childish joy. And I hope I never will.
The group improv was quite successful, because we stuck to the main rule of improvisation: agreement. The five of us agreed and committed to the collective choice of the New Age-y society which has weaponized positive and negative vibes, and so we were able to create with the full support of the ensemble. Yet another case where I'm glad that we're in an advanced acting class. Were we not, someone would have wound up being self-conscious and not committed to the absurdity of the scene, and it would have fallen apart.
I suspect that we all hang around each other too much, because we almost unfailingly came up with the same ideas regarding behavior in the different eras in history and places. There actually were a lot of things going on in the 20's, but we all came up with smoking and Roaring 20's-style activity. Maybe we need to broaden our horizons.
I've been observing Silverado and have made some fun observations about shklim (kudos if you got the reference). Just some fun little things with voice and body, mannerisms and quirks that are so distinctive that you don't notice them anymore when interacting with the person. I just need to make sure that I don't start aping these traits in everyday life. That would be weird.
Just for the hell of it, here's an interesting segment on Modern Marvels about the history of bowling ball technology. In reality, it's only the tip of the iceberg as far as the analysis can go, but not bad for an eight-minute segment which has to start from the ground up.
I'm out like something that's no longer in.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Thoughts from Playwriting Canidate Workshop 3 of 6
Different experience today. I enjoyed getting in and thinking about our miniature pieces of plays in terms of other plays, something I don't feel like I've gotten much from the previous two candidates. I've been looking at these candidates through the lens of criteria which are evolving as I go. I definitely felt like I could not only see myself collaborating with him, but learning a lot from the process. I worry, though, that there would be a steep learning curve. He operated the class with a solid knowledge of theatre, and with the expectation that we, too, had a solid knowledge of theatre. I worry about how well that would work in an introductory-type class, one in which not everyone reads and sees loads and loads of plays in their free time. That said, four scenes:
1: Hey, did you see that?
2: (silence)
1: Hey, did you see that?
2: (silence)
1: Did you see that horse?
2: (silence)
1: I said, did you see that horse?
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
1: Yeah, I know.
2: Why's it here?
1: Why not?
2: (silence)
1: Here it comes.
2: Here what comes?
1: The horse.
2: What horse?
1: (silence)
2: What horse?
1: Really?
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
FOGHORN
1: Come back, horse!
2: (silence)
1: Now the horse is gone.
2: What horse?
1: (silence)
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
ONE WEEK LATER
1: That sounds like a lie.
2: No.
1: Are you lying?
2: No.
1: Why would you lie to me?
2: Why would I lie to you?
1: Why would you lie to me?
2: Why wouldn't I lie to you?
1: (silence)
2: Well?
1: You know, you haven't made sense in a week.
2: Huh?
1: You sound stupid.
2: You look stupid.
1: (silence)
2: That was mean.
1: That was mean.
2: What do you mean?
1: What do I mean?
2: What do you mean?
1: I mean-
2: I wasn't mean.
1: You were mean.
2: (silence)
1: I wish I had a horse.
ONE YEAR LATER
1: You're late.
2: You're a stickler.
1: You're a name-caller.
2: You're a hypocrite.
1: (silence)
2: You're a mute.
1: You're a jerk.
2: (silence)
1: You're an idiot.
2: You're a meanie.
1: You're a child.
2: You're a parent.
1: You're transparent.
FOGHORN
2: Did you hear that?
1: Yeah.
2: Do you think that-
1: No.
2: Well maybe-
1: Nyuh-uh.
2: I wish you'd let me fin-
1: Shhhhh.
TEN MINUTES BEFORE SCENE ONE
1: It feels like rain.
2: It looks like rain.
1: That's what I said...
2: (silence)
1: ...roughly.
2: I don't want fish tonight.
1: (silence)
2: I don't want fish tonight.
1: Not roughy, roughly.
2: Ohhhhhh.
1: So what about beef for dinner?
2: Don't you mean veal for dinner?
1: No, beef. Full-grown cow meat-
2: As opposed to baby cow meat?
1: Yes.
2: But where are we going to get beef?
1: Where are we going to get beef?
2: We're far out of town.
1: We are far out of town.
2: We could walk.
1: We couldn't walk.
2: (silence)
1: Hey, did you see that?
In reflection, I see the influence of the plays I've been reading lately seeping through. I feel like this tone and fast-paced sort of thing would need a lot of thought (as well as a lot of letting thought go) in order to work right, and I suspect it would just end up resembling a third-rate Beckett knockoff anyways. But, alas, for fifty minutes of insomniac creativity...
1: Hey, did you see that?
2: (silence)
1: Hey, did you see that?
2: (silence)
1: Did you see that horse?
2: (silence)
1: I said, did you see that horse?
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
1: Yeah, I know.
2: Why's it here?
1: Why not?
2: (silence)
1: Here it comes.
2: Here what comes?
1: The horse.
2: What horse?
1: (silence)
2: What horse?
1: Really?
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
FOGHORN
1: Come back, horse!
2: (silence)
1: Now the horse is gone.
2: What horse?
1: (silence)
2: Holy crap, it's a horse!
ONE WEEK LATER
1: That sounds like a lie.
2: No.
1: Are you lying?
2: No.
1: Why would you lie to me?
2: Why would I lie to you?
1: Why would you lie to me?
2: Why wouldn't I lie to you?
1: (silence)
2: Well?
1: You know, you haven't made sense in a week.
2: Huh?
1: You sound stupid.
2: You look stupid.
1: (silence)
2: That was mean.
1: That was mean.
2: What do you mean?
1: What do I mean?
2: What do you mean?
1: I mean-
2: I wasn't mean.
1: You were mean.
2: (silence)
1: I wish I had a horse.
ONE YEAR LATER
1: You're late.
2: You're a stickler.
1: You're a name-caller.
2: You're a hypocrite.
1: (silence)
2: You're a mute.
1: You're a jerk.
2: (silence)
1: You're an idiot.
2: You're a meanie.
1: You're a child.
2: You're a parent.
1: You're transparent.
FOGHORN
2: Did you hear that?
1: Yeah.
2: Do you think that-
1: No.
2: Well maybe-
1: Nyuh-uh.
2: I wish you'd let me fin-
1: Shhhhh.
TEN MINUTES BEFORE SCENE ONE
1: It feels like rain.
2: It looks like rain.
1: That's what I said...
2: (silence)
1: ...roughly.
2: I don't want fish tonight.
1: (silence)
2: I don't want fish tonight.
1: Not roughy, roughly.
2: Ohhhhhh.
1: So what about beef for dinner?
2: Don't you mean veal for dinner?
1: No, beef. Full-grown cow meat-
2: As opposed to baby cow meat?
1: Yes.
2: But where are we going to get beef?
1: Where are we going to get beef?
2: We're far out of town.
1: We are far out of town.
2: We could walk.
1: We couldn't walk.
2: (silence)
1: Hey, did you see that?
In reflection, I see the influence of the plays I've been reading lately seeping through. I feel like this tone and fast-paced sort of thing would need a lot of thought (as well as a lot of letting thought go) in order to work right, and I suspect it would just end up resembling a third-rate Beckett knockoff anyways. But, alas, for fifty minutes of insomniac creativity...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Early Thoughts on Person-Watching
I've been making some preliminary observations on Silverado (my subject of study for the next several months). I've been playing around with multiple ways of information gathering. On one hand, wallflowering has the whole subterfuge thing going for it. On the other hand, by being active in conversation and activity, I can try to direct things towards what I want to know. I was initially a little concerned about finding opportunities for observation, but I've realized that we're all in Zoellner all the time anyway. The opportunities are there if you get out there and seize them.
Looking forward to seeing how the task of gender-bending is handled. It's a relatively easy feat for a man to play a woman (and vice versa) for comedic effect. Lower the voice, hunch the shoulders, and now a woman can play a man for a brief comedy bit. Raise the voice and channel Blanche DuBois and a man can do the same. It's more difficult to seriously capture the differences between the genders and the way they move and talk. Something to watch for...
I had an epiphany about Youtube. I wish there was a way to not see the title before the clip, because the title often undercuts the punch line (example) I remember one of the reasons Dick in a Box was so funny is because they played it dead straight until the first reveal of the punch line. On the other hand, you know what's coming when you watch Jizz in my Pants (yes, I've been brushing up on my Andy Samberg)
Toodles
Looking forward to seeing how the task of gender-bending is handled. It's a relatively easy feat for a man to play a woman (and vice versa) for comedic effect. Lower the voice, hunch the shoulders, and now a woman can play a man for a brief comedy bit. Raise the voice and channel Blanche DuBois and a man can do the same. It's more difficult to seriously capture the differences between the genders and the way they move and talk. Something to watch for...
I had an epiphany about Youtube. I wish there was a way to not see the title before the clip, because the title often undercuts the punch line (example) I remember one of the reasons Dick in a Box was so funny is because they played it dead straight until the first reveal of the punch line. On the other hand, you know what's coming when you watch Jizz in my Pants (yes, I've been brushing up on my Andy Samberg)
Toodles
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thoughts from Playwriting Candidate Workshop 2 of 6
I enjoyed the use of tangible visual media as a source of inspiration today. The piece I wound up writing had actually been a rough idea in my head for quite some time, one which I had been struggling to put enough context behind to make palpable, so I found it cathartic to purge that idea from the buffer so that I could move on to new things. For some reason, I found this candidate a little hard to give focus to when she talked, possibly due to the volume of her voice, or internal distractions, or maybe something else entirely. I don't know how receptive I was to the idea of giving that much thought to the dramaturgical shape of the play at such an early stage. I think this may be a byproduct of my desire to create as much as I can first, and then hew it into shape. For the second time, I was a bit dismayed that I didn't get to see how the candidate deals with work that is in need of critique.
I was only able to get through the stage direction and description before the play (partially because my last effort was almost entirely dialog, and this one was more of a visual concept anyway):
Lights up on Thomas, 24, alone in his studio apartment. He has on a button-down shirt, unbuttoned, exposing a tired brown T-shirt beneath. He is wearing jeans, smudged from artists' charcoal and paint. He hasn't slept in two days, showered in three, or shaved in six. In front of him is an easel, surrounded by cans of paint, spraycans of paint, brushes full of paint, brushes half-full of paint, brushes without paint, water cups colored with paint, and paper splattered with paint. In one corner is a trashcan, the repository of failed ideas and that-will-never-work, overflowing to the point of being a miniature mountain. The walls around him are covered many times over with sketches, poems, sentences, quotes, pictures, paintings, and ideas, stapled in whatever way haste allowed. On the desk is a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels, a two-thirds-empty pot of coffee, a three-quarters-empty bottle of pills, and bountiful quantities of paper, the resting places of ideas new and old. Thomas moves about the space with the fervor of torrential mind, seeking out a place on which to set an idea and an idea to set in a place. This proceeds for five minutes, interrupted only by the stapling of an idea to a wall, the crumpling and disposal of an idea punctuated by profanity, and visitations to the containers on the desk.
I was only able to get through the stage direction and description before the play (partially because my last effort was almost entirely dialog, and this one was more of a visual concept anyway):
Lights up on Thomas, 24, alone in his studio apartment. He has on a button-down shirt, unbuttoned, exposing a tired brown T-shirt beneath. He is wearing jeans, smudged from artists' charcoal and paint. He hasn't slept in two days, showered in three, or shaved in six. In front of him is an easel, surrounded by cans of paint, spraycans of paint, brushes full of paint, brushes half-full of paint, brushes without paint, water cups colored with paint, and paper splattered with paint. In one corner is a trashcan, the repository of failed ideas and that-will-never-work, overflowing to the point of being a miniature mountain. The walls around him are covered many times over with sketches, poems, sentences, quotes, pictures, paintings, and ideas, stapled in whatever way haste allowed. On the desk is a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels, a two-thirds-empty pot of coffee, a three-quarters-empty bottle of pills, and bountiful quantities of paper, the resting places of ideas new and old. Thomas moves about the space with the fervor of torrential mind, seeking out a place on which to set an idea and an idea to set in a place. This proceeds for five minutes, interrupted only by the stapling of an idea to a wall, the crumpling and disposal of an idea punctuated by profanity, and visitations to the containers on the desk.
Stylin'
Before class, I spent some time just walking around campus, breathing, checking in. I love the feeling of cold air being inhaled through my nostrils. It makes me feel awake, more so than inhaling cold air through the mouth. I think it's because the mouth is actually a major source of body heat, so air coming in gets warmed before it makes it to the lungs. Digression: we lose a lot of body heat through our mouths. That is why many languages which were born in northern Europe are so guttural. The German language developed the bass-y rough sound because early Prussians didn't open their mouths very far to speak because it was so damn cold out. So if you're stuck somewhere cold, keep your mouth shut. It helps.
The counting game felt especially difficult today. I don't know if it was just rust, if I was distracted by some external thing, or if the people on the other side of the circle were more in my plane of vision to day than usual. Definitely need to practice.
One Clap Two Stomp Three Snap Four Pat Five Chicken
I enjoyed being able to reflect on my own personal style. After some good introspection, I always feel more aware for the next several hours. I've been going through the day thinking to myself, "I really do use that word a lot!" and pondering the way in which I present myself to authority figures (aka the police). I suppose that is the point of introspection for actors: awareness of self.
Fun SAT word I used today: serendipitous
Analysis of everyone else's style was an interesting exercise. I feel like, because we all know each other, we were fairly successful in at least having similar observations about one another. Whether or not those observations are the absolute truth or the public facade is an answer only the individual knows for certain. It was unusual to think of someone as being defined by an article of clothing, but we do give away a lot of how we view ourselves through how we allow others to view us. I'm glad I actually wore my favorite sneakers today, though. They were these Nikes that I was forced to buy five years ago for track. By now, they are falling apart. The interior lining is ripping apart and the stuffing is coming loose. They have holes in the top, and have been spraypainted at least twice. Also, I found a pushpin in the left shoe back in December. It's still there.
On a highly unrelated note, I recently rediscovered a couple of my old favorite songs on Youtube. They're a couple of acoustic performances: Dave Grohl doing "Tiny Dancer", and Brett Scallions from Fuel doing "Daniel". So often, when we think of Elton John, we think of his flash and flair, or maybe his voice, but he's a really underrated songwriter as well.
That's all for this entry. I think I should try to pay attention to this professor now (no chance).
The counting game felt especially difficult today. I don't know if it was just rust, if I was distracted by some external thing, or if the people on the other side of the circle were more in my plane of vision to day than usual. Definitely need to practice.
One Clap Two Stomp Three Snap Four Pat Five Chicken
I enjoyed being able to reflect on my own personal style. After some good introspection, I always feel more aware for the next several hours. I've been going through the day thinking to myself, "I really do use that word a lot!" and pondering the way in which I present myself to authority figures (aka the police). I suppose that is the point of introspection for actors: awareness of self.
Fun SAT word I used today: serendipitous
Analysis of everyone else's style was an interesting exercise. I feel like, because we all know each other, we were fairly successful in at least having similar observations about one another. Whether or not those observations are the absolute truth or the public facade is an answer only the individual knows for certain. It was unusual to think of someone as being defined by an article of clothing, but we do give away a lot of how we view ourselves through how we allow others to view us. I'm glad I actually wore my favorite sneakers today, though. They were these Nikes that I was forced to buy five years ago for track. By now, they are falling apart. The interior lining is ripping apart and the stuffing is coming loose. They have holes in the top, and have been spraypainted at least twice. Also, I found a pushpin in the left shoe back in December. It's still there.
On a highly unrelated note, I recently rediscovered a couple of my old favorite songs on Youtube. They're a couple of acoustic performances: Dave Grohl doing "Tiny Dancer", and Brett Scallions from Fuel doing "Daniel". So often, when we think of Elton John, we think of his flash and flair, or maybe his voice, but he's a really underrated songwriter as well.
That's all for this entry. I think I should try to pay attention to this professor now (no chance).
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The First Time Only Happens One Time
I was slightly bummed, because P-Styles has been the breath of fresh air in my clogged life. However, my thoughts are more or less along the lines of the title. On a personal note, I've been dog-ass sick for several days, culminating last night with me almost collapsing by the water cooler at 11-something last night. I say culminating because I don't really want to know how it gets worse. I finally consumed something other than Gatorade for the first time in three days, and I don't feel hot or queasy anymore. Hopefully my energy level will return to normal at some point soon.
On the inauguration front, I loved seeing Barack Obama's composure and carriage as he walked down that big hallway. He just had this vibe of, "That's right. I'm the President. Man, that sounds good." Then I'm sure Hail to the Chief played in his head. I enjoyed the musical performance thoroughly, and I'm sure it was not unintentional that, at the inauguration of a President who hopes to unify all peoples, the four performers were an Asian man, a black man, a Jewish man, and a woman.
I wished, however, that they had ordered the whole presentation differently. It really should have ended: inaugural address, Star-Spangled Banner, done. We all knew that President Obama would deliver a patriotic, motivational, stirring speech, and indeed he did. After he spoke, I felt ready. Ready to set the world on fire. Ready to do great things. Ready to help my fellow man. Then we had another twenty-ish minutes of presentation to kill all that momentum. But, hindsight is always 20/20.
All in all, a fine day one of what will hopefully be a momentous four years.
On the inauguration front, I loved seeing Barack Obama's composure and carriage as he walked down that big hallway. He just had this vibe of, "That's right. I'm the President. Man, that sounds good." Then I'm sure Hail to the Chief played in his head. I enjoyed the musical performance thoroughly, and I'm sure it was not unintentional that, at the inauguration of a President who hopes to unify all peoples, the four performers were an Asian man, a black man, a Jewish man, and a woman.
I wished, however, that they had ordered the whole presentation differently. It really should have ended: inaugural address, Star-Spangled Banner, done. We all knew that President Obama would deliver a patriotic, motivational, stirring speech, and indeed he did. After he spoke, I felt ready. Ready to set the world on fire. Ready to do great things. Ready to help my fellow man. Then we had another twenty-ish minutes of presentation to kill all that momentum. But, hindsight is always 20/20.
All in all, a fine day one of what will hopefully be a momentous four years.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thoughts from Playwriting Candidate Workshop 1 of 6
I figured I would write this all down for a number of reasons. One, I never got to read it in the group, so the people who were there can get a view of where my work was coming from. Two, I know I'm going to forget my thoughts and impressions by the time that number six rolls around. Three, I want to keep this writing somewhere, in case I ever want to get back to it on a rainy day, and this is as good a place as any. Four, I did the writing in a notebook for another class, so I need to take it out for OCD/organization's sake.
So, as I said in the circle, I have always found the toughest part of writing to be starting, to get the pencil moving in the first place. I enjoyed his exercise as a way to motivate the initial first words. Initially, I started with the interaction of Dave Moss from Glengarry Glen Ross and Maria from Wintertime (hell if I know where I came up with those two). Dave walks into the room to find Maria wearing his tie on her head. After a couple of lines, the characters and tone of the play metamorphosed into this interchange between a slightly naive wife and her husband who loves her to death in spite of her ditziness. It had this frothy romantic comedy vibe, which is weird because I'm not really a rom com guy (a manifestation of the subconscious desires of the lovelorn?) Anyways...
D: Maria, put my tie down!
M: Oh, you're here!
D: Yes, I'm here. Now why are you wearing my tie on your head?
M: I couldn't help it. I just saw it and thought of...you.
D: Really? What about me?
M: Well, at first I thought about how handsome you look dressed up. Then I thought about how handsome you look dressed down. Then I thought about that time in China when you forgot to pack a suit, so you went to that really nice restaurant in shorts and a T-shirt. Then...your tie was on my head.
D: Yeah, funny story about that tie. So on a day kind of like today, so much so that I'll call it today, I have work in ten minutes, can I have my tie?
M: Do you really have to go today? I was hoping we could just stay in and...lounge.
D: Sweetheart, we stayed in and lounged yesterday. That's why Sundays were invented. But Mondays were invented so that I could go to work...and you could do...Monday stuff.
M: But I hate Monday stuff. I like Sunday stuff, because that's when you're there. Why, don't you like Sunday stuff?
D: No, no, I like Sunday stuff too. But if all you do is Sunday stuff, then Monday stuff...no, if all you have is dessert, then the vegetables...no, no, the point is balance.
M: Balance?
D: You need to have some of the bad stuff in life in order to appreciate the good stuff.
M: And being with me is the good stuff?
D: Exactly. Now I need to go balance my stuff.
M: Okay.
(she hands him the tie, kisses him on the cheek, and sends him on his way)
Overall, I think it's a bit talky, or at least all of the action is implicit more so in my mind than in the text, and so that would be the kind of thing I would want to work on. Additionally, something mentioned in the group is making the two characters sound too much alike. I think their voices are a little too similar, although it could be the husband pandering to his wife's naivete. I would have liked to see what this candidate did as far as critique and/or constructive criticism, since most of the feedback to the read pieces was positive and complimentary. Anyways, I am looking forward to continuing to grow and develop throughout this process, and to find the best candidate, even though I don't quite know what that means.
So, as I said in the circle, I have always found the toughest part of writing to be starting, to get the pencil moving in the first place. I enjoyed his exercise as a way to motivate the initial first words. Initially, I started with the interaction of Dave Moss from Glengarry Glen Ross and Maria from Wintertime (hell if I know where I came up with those two). Dave walks into the room to find Maria wearing his tie on her head. After a couple of lines, the characters and tone of the play metamorphosed into this interchange between a slightly naive wife and her husband who loves her to death in spite of her ditziness. It had this frothy romantic comedy vibe, which is weird because I'm not really a rom com guy (a manifestation of the subconscious desires of the lovelorn?) Anyways...
D: Maria, put my tie down!
M: Oh, you're here!
D: Yes, I'm here. Now why are you wearing my tie on your head?
M: I couldn't help it. I just saw it and thought of...you.
D: Really? What about me?
M: Well, at first I thought about how handsome you look dressed up. Then I thought about how handsome you look dressed down. Then I thought about that time in China when you forgot to pack a suit, so you went to that really nice restaurant in shorts and a T-shirt. Then...your tie was on my head.
D: Yeah, funny story about that tie. So on a day kind of like today, so much so that I'll call it today, I have work in ten minutes, can I have my tie?
M: Do you really have to go today? I was hoping we could just stay in and...lounge.
D: Sweetheart, we stayed in and lounged yesterday. That's why Sundays were invented. But Mondays were invented so that I could go to work...and you could do...Monday stuff.
M: But I hate Monday stuff. I like Sunday stuff, because that's when you're there. Why, don't you like Sunday stuff?
D: No, no, I like Sunday stuff too. But if all you do is Sunday stuff, then Monday stuff...no, if all you have is dessert, then the vegetables...no, no, the point is balance.
M: Balance?
D: You need to have some of the bad stuff in life in order to appreciate the good stuff.
M: And being with me is the good stuff?
D: Exactly. Now I need to go balance my stuff.
M: Okay.
(she hands him the tie, kisses him on the cheek, and sends him on his way)
Overall, I think it's a bit talky, or at least all of the action is implicit more so in my mind than in the text, and so that would be the kind of thing I would want to work on. Additionally, something mentioned in the group is making the two characters sound too much alike. I think their voices are a little too similar, although it could be the husband pandering to his wife's naivete. I would have liked to see what this candidate did as far as critique and/or constructive criticism, since most of the feedback to the read pieces was positive and complimentary. Anyways, I am looking forward to continuing to grow and develop throughout this process, and to find the best candidate, even though I don't quite know what that means.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Insert Clever Title Here
For some reason, even though class was only a couple of hours ago, it feels like a complete blur. I can vividly recall the first class, but today just feels like a big muddle of movement and noise.
I am writing this in the middle of a class entitled "Operating System Design" with a professor who is as boring as paint drying slowly. It always feels weird to go from very physical and liberating Theatre classes, which feel almost like play, to the CS classes, which are all analytical and mathematical. It's almost as bad as when I had Scenography followed immediately by Design and Analysis of Algorithms. That was a thorough mindfuck.
I thoroughly enjoy soft focus. However, if you walk around during the day in soft focus, people usually think you're either angry or crazy.
Something new I learned: the reasoning behind the whole Joshua exercise. I knew it was a vocal warm-up, but I guess I never made the connection of the forward motion of the sounds' origin. That's why I keep getting up every day: to go to bed with more information than I had when I got out of it.
After our breathing exercises, I wished I could spend more time breathing. Not really doing anything, just checking in with the instrument and feeling the expansion and contraction of the lungs and diaphragm. I guess that's why arriving early was invented.
Tossing the ball was fun. At one point it really made me miss playing baseball, until I threw one too hard at Evil Katie and my hand went numb. Take-home lesson: control.
The body contact game was thoroughly enjoyable. I feel like the game requires a certain connection among the participants, and it was fun to see how the various group minds formed, finding different ways to connect five hips or four feet or two elbows. It was awesome during one moment when someone had the exact same idea as I did, and we just connected immediately without all the hurried fumbling and limb-counting.
I resolved today to start working out again, what with the body being the instrument and my body being a guitar that just got smashed through an amplifier.
I found it challenging to reflect on what groups and styles other people think I belong to. I generally don't get into the whole practice of labeling people, because I feel like complete individuals aren't binary entities; we aren't one way or not that way. I don't get mad when other people want to categorize, but I feel like all labels are right and wrong.
Since I couldn't remember the resolution to the Three Little Pigs, I did some hard-hitting research (a minute and a half of browsing Wikipedia). After the wolf fails to blow down the third pig's house (the wolf apparently has smoker's lung, because I know I have enough lung power to knock down brick and mortar), he tries to outsmart the pig and fails. Finally, the wolf climbs to the roof and attempts to go in through the chimney. The pig, being a crafty mofo, puts a pot of boiling water in his fireplace. The wolf summarily falls into said pot, the pig slams down the lid, and cooks the wolf and eats him. Wonderful.
I am writing this in the middle of a class entitled "Operating System Design" with a professor who is as boring as paint drying slowly. It always feels weird to go from very physical and liberating Theatre classes, which feel almost like play, to the CS classes, which are all analytical and mathematical. It's almost as bad as when I had Scenography followed immediately by Design and Analysis of Algorithms. That was a thorough mindfuck.
I thoroughly enjoy soft focus. However, if you walk around during the day in soft focus, people usually think you're either angry or crazy.
Something new I learned: the reasoning behind the whole Joshua exercise. I knew it was a vocal warm-up, but I guess I never made the connection of the forward motion of the sounds' origin. That's why I keep getting up every day: to go to bed with more information than I had when I got out of it.
After our breathing exercises, I wished I could spend more time breathing. Not really doing anything, just checking in with the instrument and feeling the expansion and contraction of the lungs and diaphragm. I guess that's why arriving early was invented.
Tossing the ball was fun. At one point it really made me miss playing baseball, until I threw one too hard at Evil Katie and my hand went numb. Take-home lesson: control.
The body contact game was thoroughly enjoyable. I feel like the game requires a certain connection among the participants, and it was fun to see how the various group minds formed, finding different ways to connect five hips or four feet or two elbows. It was awesome during one moment when someone had the exact same idea as I did, and we just connected immediately without all the hurried fumbling and limb-counting.
I resolved today to start working out again, what with the body being the instrument and my body being a guitar that just got smashed through an amplifier.
I found it challenging to reflect on what groups and styles other people think I belong to. I generally don't get into the whole practice of labeling people, because I feel like complete individuals aren't binary entities; we aren't one way or not that way. I don't get mad when other people want to categorize, but I feel like all labels are right and wrong.
Since I couldn't remember the resolution to the Three Little Pigs, I did some hard-hitting research (a minute and a half of browsing Wikipedia). After the wolf fails to blow down the third pig's house (the wolf apparently has smoker's lung, because I know I have enough lung power to knock down brick and mortar), he tries to outsmart the pig and fails. Finally, the wolf climbs to the roof and attempts to go in through the chimney. The pig, being a crafty mofo, puts a pot of boiling water in his fireplace. The wolf summarily falls into said pot, the pig slams down the lid, and cooks the wolf and eats him. Wonderful.
On a gloriously unrelated note, once class got out, I put some Portuguese hip hop on my iPod, and it was glorious. Some languages just seem to lend themselves well to certain genres of music.
I'm off in search of food...
I'm off in search of food...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Day 1- This class is poppin', stylin' and boss
This is an advanced acting class.
I am really looking forward to acting with people as enthusiastic about theatre as I am. It can really dampen one's spirits to be the only one giving 100% of one's self in a room full of people who are just there for 4 humanities credits.
As we went over the syllabus, I wondered why no one has found a way to jazz up the tedium of syllabi. I don't know, maybe if they did it in rhyming couplets or occasionally threw in curse words to see who was paying attention.
I am glad that we did a group warmup, because I myself was feeling less than limber at the start of class. Since this is my first class, I must make sure I get in sooner in order to ready myself mind and body and spirit and whatnot.
Whilst being middle-schoolers, I wondered how many other people were channeling themselves a decade ago. Shit, middle school really was a decade ago. I feel older than I did the first time I found gray hair in my beard.
This is an advanced acting class.
During the game of updating lingo, I had a realization which was at once both comforting and disturbing. It was comforting to know that other people were observing the same thing I was concerning the state of dating and relationships in our little microcosmic world. However it was very disturbing to realize that my suspicions were in fact confirmed. I was left with one question: when the fuck did I become old-fashioned because I like to get to know a girl over dinner and a movie before my dick enters into the equation? Seriously, am I just a bleeding-heart romantic because I don't go out in search of one-nighters? I mean, I'm not averse to them, but I don't set out with the goal of meeting a girl to drunkenly fuck and never have to talk to again. That's really pretty anti-boss.
Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. (one in which my hands are in Kashi's shoes? What a weird dream).
I just marveled at the mess of HTML that it took to do the last paragraph. And understood it. I'm such a nerd.
This is an advanced acting class.
Seacrest, out.
I am really looking forward to acting with people as enthusiastic about theatre as I am. It can really dampen one's spirits to be the only one giving 100% of one's self in a room full of people who are just there for 4 humanities credits.
As we went over the syllabus, I wondered why no one has found a way to jazz up the tedium of syllabi. I don't know, maybe if they did it in rhyming couplets or occasionally threw in curse words to see who was paying attention.
I am glad that we did a group warmup, because I myself was feeling less than limber at the start of class. Since this is my first class, I must make sure I get in sooner in order to ready myself mind and body and spirit and whatnot.
Whilst being middle-schoolers, I wondered how many other people were channeling themselves a decade ago. Shit, middle school really was a decade ago. I feel older than I did the first time I found gray hair in my beard.
This is an advanced acting class.
During the game of updating lingo, I had a realization which was at once both comforting and disturbing. It was comforting to know that other people were observing the same thing I was concerning the state of dating and relationships in our little microcosmic world. However it was very disturbing to realize that my suspicions were in fact confirmed. I was left with one question: when the fuck did I become old-fashioned because I like to get to know a girl over dinner and a movie before my dick enters into the equation? Seriously, am I just a bleeding-heart romantic because I don't go out in search of one-nighters? I mean, I'm not averse to them, but I don't set out with the goal of meeting a girl to drunkenly fuck and never have to talk to again. That's really pretty anti-boss.
Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. Row row row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream. (one in which my hands are in Kashi's shoes? What a weird dream).
I just marveled at the mess of HTML that it took to do the last paragraph. And understood it. I'm such a nerd.
This is an advanced acting class.
Seacrest, out.
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