photo by minwin
Sep 4, 2007
Sep 2, 2007
Aug 31, 2007
The realization of the satire of Catch 22
http://alternet.org/waroniraq/60950/
h/t grote
http://jasongrote.blogspot.com/
Iraq where "private companies are guaranteed huge profits no matter how badly they fuck things up."
This article is truly shocking. I didn't realize the extent that the US government is actively giving away money to unqualified people who are not doing the work they are hired to do and are merely ripping us off. Meanwhile whenever someone tries to hold these companies and individuals accountable, this person is threatened or demoted and Bush steps in to prevent the private companies from being accountable for their fraud.
Aug 30, 2007
Aug 29, 2007
Aug 26, 2007
SGSP and our practices
a blog post from the reviewer we called up to the stage about being called up:
Aug 24, 2007
from David Cote
http://histriomastix.typepad.com/weblog/2007/08/art-for-critics.html
I can’t wait to see Letts’ play.
But wait, what’s this Charles Isherwood wrote in the Times on August 13, 2007… After comparing the play’s pill-popping, bile-spewing matriarch to Albee’s Martha, O’Neill’s Mary Tyrone and Williams’ Amanda Wingfield, he puts on the brakes toward the end of an otherwise enthusiastic review. After a few good strokes of the chin, quoth The Ish:
Mr. Letts is as yet more a skillful entertainer than a true visionary or a dramatic poet. August: Osage County is a ripsnorter full of blistering, funny dialogue, acid-etched characterizations and scenes of no-holds-barred emotional combat, but I would not say it possesses the penetrating truth or the revelatory originality of a fully achieved work of art.
Spoken like a true cultural arbiter. Still, let’s pause and rescan. The play “does not possess the penetrating truth or revelatory originality of a fully achieved work of art.” Really? So…it’s not art? Is it at least a fully achieved piece of entertainment? What is the difference? If, in 50 years, no one has written a large-scale family drama that is better than A:OC, will it be upgraded to the ranks of fully-achieved art (FAWA)? Is Isherwood speaking as a newspaper reviewer of 2007 or a cultural commissar from the distant future? Where does he park his time machine?
reprinted with permission
FROM THE DESK OF GARY GARRISON
GOOD SPORT, TRYING
While I was in Houston this past weekend meeting local DG playwrights and attending a fascinating festival of short plays by the really talented members of Houston/ Scriptwriters, something smacked me in the face - hard - and it wasn't the legendary humidity (though I have to say, that knocked the wind out of me more than once). I'll play the scenario for you. It's 5:00 a.m and I'm checking out of the hotel I've stayed in. A sleepy desk manager presents a bill to me. I scan it, look closer, review it one more time to make sure I'm reading it right, then look up to the hapless, sleepless desk manager and bark - and I do mean, bark - "This has got to be a joke, right?"
"What joke, sir?" asks the desk manager, managing to come to life.
"A sports tax? What's a sport tax? You're putting a 2% sports tax on my bill? What sport did I play while here?" I insist to know. I could barely say it without spitting it at the same time, and in this moment I feel every ounce of my identity as a New Yorker.
Now the desk manager clearly has a challenge: how can he keep a potentially explosive, sleep deprived, New York Southern Transplant with fire in his eyes from getting loud and unruly in the otherwise quiet lobby. He makes a questionable move: he decides not to fight me, but placate me.
"I know it seems odd, sir, but Houston passed a city ordinance in 1997 that allows a tax on hotel rooms and rental cars to help pay for new sports stadiums, which in turn, keeps our sports teams here."
"But I don't care about your sports teams," I blurt out.
"I understand," he assures me. But he can't understand; not really.
"I don't want to pay it," I posture.
"You don't have a choice," he counters.
"I should have a choice," I posture.
"But you don't," he counters.
"They're rich enough! They don't need my money. I can give you a list an arm's length long of people who really need my money."
"I understand," he quietly offers.
Now I want to strike him. He can't know in that instant I'm heart-broken thinking about all the theatres I know all over the country that are closing because they can't afford to pay their electricity bill; he can't know I'm thinking of dramatists who can barely afford a ream of paper to print a script on. He couldn't possibly understand that my rage is historical; I have spent years thanking artists with love and affection for their immeasurable hours of work because there isn't a spare dime to pay them for their efforts. He couldn't possibly know that my fury turned further inward on myself and my own community for not finding a way to convince every city council in the country that an arts tax on hotels and rental cars is AS important as a sports tax. And yes, I know the sports/arts argument: I've lived it all my life. But I foolishly, unabashedly want parity. I want to see a puzzled linebacker at a front desk, questioning his hotel bill and saying, "An arts tax? You mean, I have to pay for someone's musical?"
Gary
ggarrison at dramatistsguild.com
damn, the damage we've done
http://www.crooksandliars.com/2007/08/23/daily-show-three-generations-of-america-to-the-rescue/
h/t Joshua
http://writerjoshuajames.com/dailydojo/?p=379
"In perhaps the most brilliant segment on "The Daily Show" I've ever
seen, last night Jon ran through the last three decades of United
States intervention in the Middle East to show how incoherent,
ass-backwards and counter-productive it has been."
Aug 23, 2007
Lyle the Future King of the Great Expanding Universe
This is a play I started to write several years ago. I think it was going to be a musical actually. And then instead I wrote Herbie which is in many ways the same story.
KING
Welcome my subjects. I’m so glad so many of you could make it. You know me as your King of the Great Expanding Universe. (Applause.) You know my daughter, the delicate yet violent and vengeful Princess Francesca. (Applause.) And my son the prince of poetry, magnets and other somewhat useless pastimes, Prince Lyle. (A few claps.) Now I’ve called you all here today, my subjects because Lyle is fast approaching the ripe old age of eighteen . . . billion and it is time that he find a wife. (murmers.) I myself have several million wives as you all know. (Laughter.) No, but seriously, only a couple million or so. So for Lyle we are just looking for one right now. Is there anyone here today who may be possibly slightly interested in marrying the future king of the ever expanding universe?
VOICE OF WOMAN
He’ll never be king.
KING
Now that’s not entirely true. I could die someday. (laughter) I could. Someone could try to kill me or I could just die of old age in a few trillion years.
VOICE OF MAN
You won’t die. You’ll fucking be here forever.
KING
Now remember, I wasn’t always king of the ever expanding universe.
VOICE OF MAN
But the old king’s not dead either. He’s still alive.
KING
Is he?
VOICE OF MAN
You just overthrew him. You never chopped off his head.
KING
Really? Is that true? Well I apologize for the oversight. We’ll get right on that. (Makes motion with his hand. ADVISOR puts on a hood, picks up an axe and walks offstage.) But that doesn’t mean I’ll be the last king. At some point like any good son of the king of the great expanding universe, I expect Lyle will kill his father. (LYLE looks dubious.) Now who wants to marry him? (Silence.) Well, someone’s got to. Come on, now people. Really. This is getting serious. (To LYLE.) What did you do to all the people in the universe?
LYLE
I don’t know.
KING
Why don’t they like you?
LYLE
I don’t know.
KING
All right, well I gotta make a proclamation. If no one agrees to marry my son by the seventh day hence, one week from today, Lyle will be beheaded in the royal expanding courtyard.
(Cheers, ad lib. Yay! Yippee. Three Cheers for the King!! Long live the King!)
LYLE
But Dad.
KING
I had to kill my dad, so now I have to kill my son. The life of a King is a lonely life. Where are my wives? Send my wives to my room. I’m going to be sad.
(MAN IN HOOD returns with decapitated head.)
KING
Ah, good. Looks like your Grampa kicked it, son.
LYLE
Dad!
KING
I have spoken. Go now in peace to serve me and one another.
FRANCESCA
Tough break.
LYLE
I am so screwed.
FRANCESCA
They don’t like you, huh?
LYLE
Guess not.
FRANCESCA
Have you tried a personal ad?
LYLE
What? Future King of Expanding Universe seeks someone special?
FRANCESCA
I guess not.
LYLE
It’s not like there are people that don’t know me.
FRANCESCA
You could wear a disguise.
LYLE
They’d figure it out at the wedding.
FRANCESCA
They might.
LYLE
I should just kill myself.
FRANCESCA
Don’t do that. You got a few days to try and find a wife. You may as well wait it out. We can think of something.
LYLE
I guess. I don’t even want to get married.
FRANCESCA
I didn’t either but look how happy I am.
LYLE
Are you happy?
FRANCESCA
Well, I’m married.
LYLE
I’m going to go to my room and weep and write some poetry.
FRANCESCA
This is fixable. I mean, we knew this was going to happen. You just need a P.R. machine. We’ll make you look good and then all the girls will love you.
LYLE
How?
FRANCESCA
We could publish your poetry and then when the women arrive for a book signing, you hit on them, get them back to your place, put the moves on them and then get them to agree to marry you.
LYLE
I don’t know.
FRANCESCA
Either that or you chop Dad’s head off.
LYLE
All right. I’ll try it.
FRANCESCA
Tell you what? If it doesn’t work out and you really want to kill yourself, I’ll kill myself too. It’ll be like a pact.
LYLE
You’d do that for me?
FRANCESCA
Sure. Why you wouldn’t do that for me?
LYLE
No, I’d do that for you. Sure. Why’d you want to kill yourself again?
FRANCESCA
In case you do.
LYLE
Oh, right. Good. Good. Good.
Aug 22, 2007
from Patrick
Interesting post from Patrick on race in the theatre and the reception
of his play "about well meaning white people."
of his play "about well meaning white people."
http://writinglife3.blogspot.com/2007/08/white-guy-writing-about-race-part-i.html
SCR
photo of my cast from reading at SCR
John Cabrera, Jennifer Parsons, Larry Bates, Nathan Baesel and Jennifer Elise Cox in SCR's 100th NewSCRipts reading of Adam Szymkowicz' Incendiary in 2007.
Aug 21, 2007
coming nov 5
Reading of my play Herbie
at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts
http://www.nypl.org/research/calendar/prog/lpa/pseries.cfm?id=263
Aug 20, 2007
a review
http://www.edgenewyork.com/index.php?ci=&ch=entertainment&sc=theatre&sc2=reviews&sc3=performance&id=7123
"Susan Gets Some Play, produced by Stage Fright Productions, is funny, perky, neurotic, witty, sarcastic, and as bubbly and overflowing with fizz as a can of soda you shook too hard."
from James
http://jamespeak.blogspot.com/2007/08/jimmys-fringe-roundup.html
On Saturday, I went to see Adam Szymkowicz's latest, Susan Gets Some Play, a very funny 40-minute meta-comedy play-within-a-play about, well, actress Susan Louise O'Connor trying to find a boyfriend (or at least a romp in the hey). It's as simple as that. Although...no, it's not really as simple as that.
Susan and her best friend Jay try to find Susan a boyfriend by holding auditions for an imaginary production in hopes of finding Mr. Right; or at the very least, a date or make-out session. They end up auditioning as many people as they can, including a "guest celebrity" and people from the audience. Hell, the usher even gave out raffle tickets for the chance to win a date with Susan (alas, I didn't win).
Ultimately, Susan isn't wild about this duplicitous process of finding a boyfriend (in one scene, she admits to have asked Szymkowicz to write this play for her, but now she feels cheap and on display), and is even less wild about all her co-stars milking their make-out scenes with her.
To quote Monty Python: It's silly.
There are multiple in-jokes with this show, including references to Szymkowicz's earlier work (there's a scene deliberately mimicking the New York production of Nerve), as well as jokes on insufferably self-referential New York theatre and the ignorance non-theatre-makers have on the process of putting on a play in the city (my molars would grind when a character would refer to the auditions as "play practice," which I'm sure was intended).
And oh yes, there's a cool non sequitur song and dance number to boot.
That Susan Gets Some Play doesn't take itself too seriously and doesn't alienate the audience with the numerous in-jokes (most of them are either fairly inclusive or not distracting enough to be jarring) makes it work. It's incredibly slight run-time (under an hour) doesn't hurt, either.
With the help of the cast Moritz von Stuelpnagel's direction, Susan Gets Some Play is thoroughly unapologetic with its simple yet whimsical premise, which is one of the main reasons why this show is so light and enjoyable.
note from me: I think it's more like 48 minutes but the rest is pretty damn accurate.
Aug 19, 2007
Just found out some exciting news that I'll tell you about soon, or
else it will surreptitiously appear in my bio and I will never speak
of it.
else it will surreptitiously appear in my bio and I will never speak
of it.
SGSP in the fringe is going very well, or at least the first show was
great and I can only assume it will be as good or better so I'm happy
about that. no reviews yet as far as i know. come soon. I promise
if you like to laugh you will have a good time and it's less than an
hour so you can go home early.
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