Crazytown

This Monday, RSO has Part 9 of Jasper and a Behind-the-Scene featuring a lesson learned from Wicked scribe Winnie Holzman...

Gena reminisces over past Halloween costumes...

And Loren wonders if there are any stories about performing artists we can actually relate to!?

 

JASPER IN DEADLAND (PART 9 OF 16)

Past the Great Gulf, Jasper and Gretchen meet Dante Alighieri's Beatrix, who may at last know the whereabouts of Agnes.
Music, Lyrics and Book by Ryan Scott Oliver

<< Jasper in Deadland (Part 8)

(On the other side of the Gulf, we see a yard-sign before a lovely little shack.)

JASPER
(Reading the sign.)  “Beatrix Portinari and Elysium Tours.” 

BEATRIX
(There.)  Are you my 10 o’ clock?  You’re late.

 

(BEATRIX is 750 years old, and she really looks it; perhaps she’s withered away to a mere puppet.  Her demeanor generally lies somewhere between Florence, 1280 A.D., and a contemporary Italian Jersey-Jew.)

GRETCHEN
Sorry, we’re just passing through, looking for his friend Agnes.

BEATRIX
Where you gonna go?  That way’s the Wasteland, and you might as well stick your head in that sand.  Only way past it is over it, and that’s where I come in.  I take people to Elysium to meet Pluto, so he can decide which part of the paradise they go to.  Besides, if you made it outta the City and crossed the glass, then you’re my 10 o’ clock thus sayith the Lord, and you’re late.  Come.

(SHE goes into her shack.  JASPER and GRETCHEN follow.)

BEHIND THE SCENE: JASPER IN DEADLAND (PART 9)

Shedding light on the creation of a musical, discussing fundamentals, timeless struggles, and real revelations.  This week:
When does a writer return to their source material, if ever?
By RSO 

<< This article discusses Jasper in Deadland (Part 9).  Read it here.

Wicked Bookwriter Winnie Holzman spoke to my NYU Graduate Musical Theatre Writing class in 2006, and said of adaptations:

"Embrace your source material, love it, kiss it, sleep with it under your pillow... and then the next morning, throw it away."

Her point (the text of which I'm butchering paraphrasing) was that an author should never be confined or limited to the thing they're adapting, and that their own creative skills must take over driving, while the source material "takes the back seat" (read: "struggles for air, hog-tied in the back seat").

And if the grand precedent of musical adpatations is any validation of Ms. Holzman's point, then she's absolutely correct.  What would become of West Side Story if Maria had ended her life like Juliet?  Or in My Fair Lady if Eliza had run off with Freddy as she does in Pymalion?  If Mimi died in Rent as in La Boheme?

But does there come a time when we open the trunk and let our source material (which I'll now abbreviate as "SM") breathe again?  Does it ever come back to help us and save the day, deus ex machina-style?  Or is it an unmoved mover, creating the world and then departing for good?

In my earliest draft of Jasper this "act" (in the classically designed five-act structure sense, this being the third and climactic act, encompassing from after The City Circle until the conclusion of Act I proper, roughly 20 minutes), I took Jasper and Gretchen straight through the Gulf (there was no bridge searching as we witnessed in Part 8, no "Stroke by Stroke") and into an odd woods (accompanied by creepy singing ethereal voices) where they discovered a crate (inside of which was a monster) and then a house (inside of which was a cut character called Judge Minos who "judged" Gretchen's soul).

Interesting to note the lengthy sentence I composed above feels impossibly long, however useful structurally and replete with tangential and parenthetical ideas at every turn used to explain and modify every moment.  Also impossiby long: the climactic act.  (I wrote "act of climax" but that sounded wrong.)

It was, and may continue to be, a troubling act.  Overwrought with now-or-never expositon, one-too-many turns, and an overall feeling of wandering, I got stuck.  How to artfully, economically further the action of the play?

Luckily, I had my source material to return to.  True, Jasper isn't a direct adaptation of any one work, but rather a myriad of classic pieces.  They include:

• Myths and legends of Pluto, Persephone, Cerberus, Ammut, Lethe, Sisyphus, the Danaides, and of course Orpheus and Eurydice;
• Dante's Divine Comedy
• Commonly held perceptions surrounding life and death.

So I returned to them here in this moment to affect a complete revision.  And in my re-research I discovered the character of "Beatrix" (nee Beatrice di Folco Portinari, then):

Beatrice "Bice" di Folco Portinari^[1] (1266–1290) (pronounced [be.aˈtriːtʃe]) was a Florentine woman known as the muse of the poet Dante Alighieri. Beatrice was the principal inspiration for Dante's Vita Nuova, and also appears as his guide in the Divine Comedy (La Divina Commedia) in the last book, Paradiso, and in the last four canti of Purgatorio. There she takes over as guide from the Latin poet Virgil because, as a pagan, Virgil cannot enter Paradise and because, being the incarnation of beatific love, as her name implies, it is Beatrice who leads into the Beatific vision.

Spinning again on Ms. Holzman's advice, I made Beatrice my own, even altering her name slightly, conceptualizing her as a puppet, and affecting a Jersey-Jew characterization atop her true character and motivations.

(Incidentally, here's another version of Beatrice... igh!)

 

And so, an adaptor does find it best to first love and then put aside their source material, but never to let it wander too far, because who knows when it may come in handy... again?

Oh, boy...

RYAN SCOTT OLIVER wrote the music and lyrics for Darling, Mrs. Sharp, 35mm, Jasper in Deadland and is currently at work on Freaky Friday for Disney Theatricals. www.ryanscottoliver.com
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT?

Where are all the good stories about performing artists? Can you relate to any story of a performing artist in pop culture?
by Loren A. Roberts (guru of multi-hyphenate media)

I love campfires. Something about the stories, the songs, how everyone starts looking a little fuzzy because of the smoke from the fire and all the edges of everything get smudged -- I have fond memories of campfires, and the memories forged around them. Stories -- told around campfires since I was a kid -- have shaped me: they provide the narrative around which I structure my life.

And many of those “life-defining” stories were about people who worked their butt off to make it big.

Stories. From the beginning of time, stories have provided the corporate narrative for society. How to live. What to stay away from. How to treat each other. People made life decisions based on their belief in the veracity of the stories handed down to them. Will I have a good life if I marry this person? What will my role in society be if I take this job (or can't find a job)? Past experience in the form of story answered these questions.

I have to believe that we still grant story the same power in society today. That is why politicians work to form a “narrative” to frame their cause in something that people can understand. (Think to the last political speech you heard: invariably he/she will have told the story of someone who could be helped by their next law, or platform, or campagin promise.) NBC has turned storytelling into a science when the Olympics come around every couple of years: athlete from humble beginnings (or tragedy) works her butt off to make good on the world stage, a la Rocky. Even preachers get it: go to church and listen to a sermon. The good ones are filled with stories, to make sure the point of the sermon sticks.

So where are our stories of performing artists? All the stories suck! Don’t believe me? Consider:

Fame (the 2009 movie remake)
One character, who has spent years practicing classical music, gives it up on a whim. No character is ever shown practicing. The lead character who sings the final number is told she "just has that quality" even though she has never trained or thought of pursuing singing, let alone practicing. She simply has “the gift.”

August Rush (2007)
The lead character, an orphan boy, simply "feels" the music around him and decides to start writing symphonies, like Mozart -- a child prodigy. The reason? Both of his birth parents (who he sets out to find in the movie because he has never met them before in his life!) are professional musicians. The skill must be "in his blood." Damn...I want his blood.

Black Swan (2010)
This is a depiction of extreme practicing gone awry. The lead character is controlled by her mother and manipulated by her director. A possible inference is that passionate and radical devotion to artistic craft will lead to madness. (This is a meme followed in other stories like Ed Harris' investigation into Pollock [2000].)

American Idol (2002-present)
All we get to see are little snippets of wannabe singers interacting with coaches offering meaningful little tidbets of wisdom, but we don't see the hours of practicing that goes into making top-notch (sometimes) performances every week. You could argue that the editing is done in such a way as to maximize drama for the weekly audience, but what is the takeaway? It’s this: anyone can be a star with a little luck (but don't even think about the "hard work" part).

GLEE! (2009-present)
It's kinda unfair to blast the kids of GLEE! because it's more soap opera than performing arts, but still: the moral of the story is quite close to American Idol (but if you do work really hard, like Rachel, you’re weird and probably going to be an outcast and might even end up like Ms. Portman in Black Swan).

(Remember: I’m not making qualitiative judgments about these movies/shows. But what I am judging is whether these stories teach us anything about being a performing artist.)

What are the stories that tell it like it is, that give people a window into the highs and lows and hard work that is being a performing artist? Where are they?

LOREN A. ROBERTS produces films, videos and music, designs magazines and logos, plays and sings in a rock-and-roll tribute band, and is a student of what happens when science, the arts, technology, and culture collide. www.hearkencreative.com
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GHOSTS OF COSTUMES PAST

Gena discovers helpful examples of creative captioning...                                                                                    By Gena Oppenheim (Bookwriter/Lyricist)

 

Recently I discovered a box of photos of costumes from Halloween's past. From Mr. Big (not Carrie Bradshaw's squeeze, but the, "I'm the One who Wants To Be With You"  singer, shown in the photo on the left) to a political casualty...the photos reminded me how I loved to take seemingly run-of-the-mill costumes and give them colorful explanations (call it successful Hippie subliminal messaging, thanks mom and dad.) See more evidence below...   

 

 

The writing on the back of this pic says: "Ron and Nancy and their cronies...Plus a poor victim of Reaganomics" (um, that victim would be little me in toilet paper bandages.)

 

 

My love of musicals was exemplified by the description of both this costume: "Petra from A Little Night Music finds a pet Cat that she's named Rum-Tum-Tugger."

 

 

 

 

And here: "Little Orphan Annie spends her first night as Annie Warbucks!"       

 

 

 

 

 

The moral of the photos seem to be something a lot of us forget as we grow up: anything can be a costume as long as you have a grand explanation! Example: if you're going to work in business attire, just tell folks who ask "Where's your costume?" that you’re going as "The 1%" and viola! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 

Gena Oppenheim Gena is a fourth generation NY writer, who teaches second-grade in Brooklyn. She is a graduate of Barnard College and received her MFA from NYU Tisch's Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program. 

This Sunday, Shoshana Greenberg talks about her generation and discusses the horror things she likes

and Steven Jamail witnesses some brave theater. 

HORROR STUFF I LIKE

When "Horror" isn't really "Horror."
By Shoshana Greenberg (Lyricist/Bookwriter)

I hate horror movies. I hate being scared just because someone wants me to be scared and I especially hate seeing people killed in disturbing ways. I write this knowing full well that some of my favorite movies, television shows, musicals, and books are considered "horror." Well, if you say so. The world may consider them "horror," but I just don't see it.

1. Poltergeist

   
Elements of Horror: Ghosts, a 5-year-old girl abducted by ghosts, an empty swimming pool full of skeletons, a guy pulling his face off after eating a maggot-filled chicken leg, the suburbs.

But I call it: A family film.

2. Dracula by Bram Stoker



Elements of Horror: Vampires, people dead from vampires, vampire bats, vampire dogs.

But I call it: A Victorian romance novel with blood.

THE BRAVE AND THE BEAUTIFUL

By Steven Jamail (Composer and MD)

When I first started writing for the theater, I felt confident that even when my work was a complete disaster, it was at the very least brave. Five years later and now getting paid to write, brave is suddenly no longer easy. I’m constantly asking myself, “Is this too commercial?” “Will my agent like this?” “Are the message boards going to hate everything about show?” Clearly, this is not the most productive way of thinking and/or stewing about one’s writing process.

Last night, I was fortunate enough to witness just how much better brave theater is. If you don’t know the sensational off- Broadway theater company Transport Group, I beg you to check them out. They specialize in new, American works and succeed or fail in their productions; nothing is attempted without extraordinary courage and craft.

Currently, they’re producing composer Michael John La Chiusa’s latest offering, Queen of the Mist. It is the story of Anna Edson Taylor, the first person to shoot Niagara Falls in a barrel and survive. Jack Cummings superbly directs a cast that is uniformly excellent and Mary Testa delivers the kind of performance that makes you remember why you got into this business to begin with. Her virtuosic portrayal of Anna (particularly in the last ten minutes of the show) leaves you with the feeling that you’ve witnessed something incredibly rare. Combine all of this with Chris Fenwick’s intrepid orchestra and Michael Starobin’s lush orchestrations (the sleeper star of the show) and you’ve had one hell of a night at the theater.

This show is particular, unique and very may well not be your cup of tea – but I dare to see it and NOT be inspired by the courage of all involved. When I sat down at the piano this morning (with a deadline fast approaching), I wrote with a very different attitude than I’ve had in a while – and I knew exactly which stars to thank.

TALKIN' 'BOUT MY GENERATION

The Netherworld between Generation X and Millennials
By Shoshana Greenberg (Lyricist/Bookwriter)

When were you born? People love to bond over this answer. I was born in 1982, and I'll talk to those born then for hours about the Care Bears, SNICK, mid-90s alternative rock, and how the movie Clueless and the year 1995 in general are so important to who I am today.  




But generation identity grew complicated as the term "Millennials" emerged to describe the latest generation of texters. Those born in the early 80s were lumped together with kids who grew up watching iCarly and Hannah Montana, kids for whom it was probably difficult to stay up until midnight to welcome the new millennium. Millennials are born roughly between the years 1981 and 2000, while Generation Xers claim the years 1965-1981. Generations are usually defined as 15-year spans, but can anyone born in 1981 truly feel akin to someone born in 2000? We may be defined as being of the same generation but we are worlds apart.


Graphic from: http://garmahis.com/inspiration/data-visualization-infographics/

Lately there have been articles calling for a new generation of people born between 1977 and 1981. An article by Doree Shafrir in Slate this week calls them Generation Catalano after the object of Angela's obsession, Jordan Catalano, from My So-Called Life. Basically, this is the generation of people who were in high school in 1994, the year My So-Called Life aired. They don't relate to Generation X's loner status or affinitiy for the movie Reality Bites, yet the Millennials are too young and optimistic for them.

These are difficulty years to define, but trying to label an entirely new generation isn't quite the answer either. Yes, the world changes so quickly now, but if that's the case, we could probably label a new generation ever four or so years. A generation spanning only four years? Perhaps we need more subdivisions within each generation. The "Early Millennials" or "Generation X+." However, instead of trying to define ourselves as separate from these generations, those born in the late 70's/early 80's need to embrace the cusp.

This Saturday, Bob Simpson brings you Part 3 of his 40 Scariest Movies

and Jenny Donoghue no longer fucks with the supernatural.