Crazytown

This Monday, RSO reports on the drama surrounding the Drama Desks...

Loren wants to know why our favorite pop obsessions are the same things reviled by those we most respect?

And Gena has the true meaning of the High Holy Days.

WHY DOES POP CULTURE GET A BAD RAP?

Why do we hate the very thing we love? Does art become less-“good” when it gets liked by the masses?
by Loren A. Roberts (guru of multi-hyphenate media)

Mini rant here. I have encountered several instances of kinda nasty reviews of pop-culture art. But I have to ask:

Why do we feel the need to put down pop culture? And why is art okay when it is obscure, but not okay when it touches the masses?

RSO brought this to my attention a while back, with his assessment of Phantom of the Opera. Personally, I dislike Phantom because I loathe every single character and character-decision made in the story. But many people hate Phantom because it is pop-art -- it is musical-theatre-light-opera-spectacle for the masses. And if it’s for the masses, it must not be good. But Ryan (possibly inadvertently) made me realize that Phantom is valid theatre -- and must be taken seriously.

And then a few days later I read the comments section of an NPR article on Zac Efron’s attempt to become a “serious actor” with his latest film “The Lucky One.” The commenters had utter disdain for the fact that NPR was even covering Zac Efron or his movie, because he and his acting career was somehow beneath the intelligence level of NPR readers. As much as I love NPR, they do their best work when they are thumbing their noses at high art and simply reporting stuff that is wonderful and weird and cool and makes sense. I (usually) trust NPR to make me see something in a new and exciting way, and they did with the Zac Efron story.

So why do we denigrate pop culture so much? One word: tribalism.

Think back to your days (not so long ago) when you were on the school playground. Everything had to do with “who was playing with whom.” Do you think we’ve outgrown that? Not by a long shot. Those who put down pop culture are simply members of a group out on the playground that wants to think that they are better than any other group.

An aside: I find it interesting that someone like Bruce Springsteen -- who is pop culture writ large -- mostly escapes the disdain that is reserved for many of his pop culture peers.

ALBUMS YOU PROBABLY HAVE NEVER HEARD

So, here’s something about me: I'm loyal. You get me hooked, and I'll keep buying album after album. I started buying Prince albums in 1987 (yikes!), and never stopped -- I have every single one since then. Part of it is habit, but part of it is knowing that where artistic brilliance happens once, it will most likely happen again. And that persistence has paid off with Counting Crows over the years.

If you think you need to go
If you wanted to be free
There's just one thing you need to know
And that's that you can't count on me

Like everyone else, I loved August and Everything After (1993), with its wistful but powerful look at West Coast love and life and fame (or lack thereof). But by the time Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings came out, most everyone had forgotten Adam Duritz & Co., and they were just returning from a 5-year recording silence.

Oh, where do we disappear?
Into the silence that surrounds us
and then drowns us in the end
Where all these people who impersonate our friends
Say, "Come again, come again, come again..."

The album is divided (rather obviously) into the first half -- Saturday Nights -- raucous, loud, partying; and the second, quieter, more reflective Sunday Mornings. This is both the album’s strength and its weakness. But I love it nonetheless.

Well if you see that movie star and me
Or if you should see my picture in a magazine
Or if you fall asleep by the bedroom TV
But honey i'm just trying to make some sense
Honey i'm just trying to make some friends
Baby i'm not trying to make amends
For coming to Los Angeles

It’s good stuff.

 

Check out more of them on Spotify or Amazon.

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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THE TRUE MEANING OF THE HIGH HOLIDAYS...

By Gena Oppenheim (Writer) 

On a recent trip to the Hungarian Pastry Shop, I was amiss to realize that my earphones were broken...but a few minutes later the Overheard in New York fairies dropped a gift in my lap. Four Upper West Side teens sat down at the table next to me and began a “deep” conversation about the meaning of the recent high holidays:

TEEN GIRL 1: I had no idea how much I missed eating yeast.

TEEN BOY 2: I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.

TEEN BOY 1: Easter sucked. My great aunt smells like Saltines.

TEEN GIRL 1: What do eggs have to do with Easter?

TEEN BOY 1: Christ like re-hatched from the ground.

TEEN BOY 2: Do you think they call them the high holidays cause those dudes spent the whole week smoking up?

TEEN BOY 1: And where does a bunny fit into that equation?

TEEN GIRL 2: That shit is why I'm an atheist.

TEEN BOY 1: Hi, I was at your Bat Mitzvah.

TEEN GIRL 1: I thought you were Catholic.

TEEN GIRL 2: I was born half and half. But now I’m nothing.

TEEN BOY 1: No, you're an atheist who likes presents.

I learned that day that Easter just might have been a week where some apostles got high and JC cracked out of an egg. And if the only holidays you enjoy celebrating are Hanukkah, Christmas and your birthday you can be classified as an “ALG” (atheist who likes gifts.) 

GENA OPPENHEIM Gena is a fourth generation New Yorker who teaches second-grade in Brooklyn. She is a graduate of Barnard College and received her MFA from NYU's Graduate Musical Theatre Writing program.  http://twitter.com/#!/genabeans                                      

 

 

NICE ORCH (IF YOU CAN GET IT)

The Drama Desk Awards (perhaps the biggest theatre awards ceremony just behind the Tonys) has decided to nix the Orchestration category this year.  Cue the scary brass and percussion!
By RSO

You have probably heard that there's a MASSIVE hooplah being thrown over the Drama Desk's Nominating Committee electing to omit Best Orchestrations this year.  They've cited reasons (poorly), but it couldn't stop a petition (with thousands of signatures) and a community generally hating their guts, and many encouraging others to boycott.

Naturally, I agree with all of this rebellious behavior; I mean, no matter what the original reason, it can't be worse than the furor the decisions has caused. 

I could write a lengthy essay on why this is wrong, what orchestration is exactly and why it's preposterous to omit its recognition from the Drama Desk Awards, but thankfully, many others have done it for me, and you should read their work.

My dear friend (and fellow Professor at Pace University) Rob Meffe has already done the job for me (and much more comprehensively than I ever could hope to have wirtten it).  Please read his essay here.

Jason Robert Brown wrote on his blog about his affection for the DDs, about the form letter response he received to his outrage, and then his subsequent response which may or may not include a ridiculous video of kittens at the end.  Read his post here.

And you can read the responses of MANY others AS WELL AS SIGN A PETITION TO HAVE THE AWARD REINSTATED HERE.

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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This Sunday, Steven Jamail remembers his summer as a NASA tour guide...

Shoshana Greenberg discusses the Autism Theatre Initiative...

and Hunter Bird tells you why he is doing this play.

 

WHAT WE DO TO FIGURE OUT WHAT WE DID FOR LOVE

By Steven Jamail (Composer and MD)

Sometime after my freshman year of high school, I knew that I wanted to make my living someday as a musician. My parents were very supportive but encouraged me to spend a summer doing a job that would pay the bills but had absolutely nothing to do with making music. It was sort of a “can you suffer a day job from hell so you can afford to pursue your art” situation.

I think my folks expected me to wait tables, lifeguard or even babysit. Well, I was sort of a weird kid so my first inclination was to become a tour guide for NASA. While I’m still scratching my head about that choice, it was one of the most rewarding summers of my life.

I’m ambitious to a fault so even though I often had NO IDEA what I was talking about, I was on a mission to become the most flawless tour guide my supervisors had ever seen. By the end of the summer I was in mission control. Hell, I gave tours in French by the end (and STILL had no idea what I was talking about).

I was good. The money was great. And I was dead inside.

Maybe that’s a little dramatic but I think pouring my heart and soul into work that was not what I was meant to be doing was actually worse than having a job where I could go on autopilot and collect a paycheck. The next summer I pounded the pavement like a demon until a summer stock company hired me as a drummer.

I was ok. The money was awful. And I was deliriously happy. Lesson learned.

When I was watching the space shuttle fly over midtown Manhattan today, it was a weird collision of worlds and a nice reminder for me that broke and happy is ALWAYS better than the alternative. All I have to do is look at my two school teaching parents (the happiest motherfuckers I’ve ever seen) to know that Pollyanna or not, make a career out of what you love or die trying.  

The Space Shuttle Flying over Manhattan on Friday morning

Steven Jamail is a composer and MD in NYC www.stevenjamail.com

THE WHY (AM I DOING THIS PLAY)

I am on the floor building a proscenium curtain and f***ing loving it.
By Hunter Bird 

So, we start tech tomorrow on a show that I'm directing at NYU. Yes, I'm a UCLA graduate as of two months ago. And yes, I'm typing this as I cut 10' panels of assorted fabrics in preparation for my instant-seam assembly line project.

This post could be an "I'm from Los Angeles, so making theatre in NYC is a completely new and exciting experience," post. But it's not.

This will be, instead, a quick post about Wounded Bird on Virgin Land, this play that Kate Douglas crafted.

In 1977, two women were biking across America. In the middle of the Oregon desert, a pickup truck ran over their tent at midnight, and both women were attacked by a axe wielding assailant and left to die. Both women survived, but the crime was never solved.

Fifteen years later, Terri Jentz (one of the women) returned to Oregon to investigate the case and interrogate the town. By activating a dialogue and allowing people who had been silenced by violence to speak, Terri was able to solve her case, and allow the community to begin to heal. This isn't a happy, safe ending though. (Sorry, Lifetime Movie deal.)

Her assailant, under the pseudonym Dick Duran, was never bought to justice because of the statute of limitations on her "attempted murder". (Because, if you didn't ACTUALLY kill someone, technically you were too incompetent to deserve the full "murder" penalty in '77 Oregonian law.)

Terri's book, Strange Piece of Paradise, inspired Kate to reach out to Terri. Long story short, Kate and I found ourselves at Terri's doorstep in Ojai, CA in March with a notebook of questions and a bottle of tequila. After a ten hour talk about justice, the nature of evil, and the history of Terri's case, Kate and I set off in a plane to Portland to begin a week long dramaturgical adventure. Over the course of 1092 miles, Kate and I traveled via rental car across the mountains of Oregon to visit Terri's nurse from her intensive hospitalization (Marcy), the women who helped Terri solve her crime (Dee Dee), and the woman who found Terri after the attack and drove her to the hospital (Boo). (Asking an 84 year old woman if she thinks people are born evil was intense, but not as intense as her answer.)

This dramaturgy trip plugged me into the WHY AM I DOING THIS PLAY question. I want to do it justice because I'm so invested in the WHY. While the play uses Terri's story as a focal point, it asks larger questions about inherited traumas that Americans continue to pass down. I'm interested in how we, as Americans, continue to fabric myths and pass them down to our children, and how cycles of violence fossilize into cultural identities.

So, here's to being in NYC working on a play that I care about.

And, if nothing else, the play has a smell designer. A. Smell. Designer.

 
Me in the middle of nowhere, Oregon

  HUNTER BIRD Hunter is a director, producer, Angelino, and coffee addict.
www.hunter-bird.com
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AUTISM AND THEATER

TDF, The Who's Tommy, and The Pillowman: What theater can do for people with autism and their families.
By Shoshana Greenberg (lyricist/bookwriter)

In the waning days of Autism Awareness Month, the Theatre Develoment Fund (TDF) is presenting the second autism-friendly performance as part of their Autism Theatre Initiative. This time the show is  Mary Poppins. Today, hundred of people with autism and their families will fill the New Amsterdam theater to experience for the first time what for many of us is a commonplace ritual: a live theatrical performance.


My brother has severe autism and while he loves many cast recording and movie musicals, he has never been to the theater. He would never be able to sit still and remain quiet through a show. I always wonder what would happen if he saw a live version of something he's only seen as two-dimensional images. How would he respond to it coming to life before his eyes? He lives too far away to attend the TDF performances in New York, so my hope is that their initiative expands to include tours, and perhaps regional theaters will follow suit.

Theater can be great for people with autism (as evidenced by the success of the first TDF autism-friendly performance of The Lion King and the theater programs around the country for higher-functioning children with autism), and I also believe that it is the best way to portray the complex relationship one can have with someone with autism, especially a family member.  While films like Rain Man and others can portray the literal experience, theater has the unique ability to connect the literal experience with the abstract, revealing deeper emotional truths. This hits harder and feels even more real than what I've experienced in film.

My two favorite examples of this are the musical The Who's Tommy and Martin McDonagh's play The Pillowman.

MUSICAL DIRECTORS ARE NOT VOICE TEACHERS

Don't do KMM's job, and he won't do yours.
By Kevin Michael Murphy(Actor-Voice Teacher)

As both a voice teacher and an actor, I sometimes find myself in an awkward position.  I'm in rehearsal for a show, when a singer is having vocal trouble. Oftentimes, the musical director steps in with advice on how to remedy the situation. Mostly, this advice is pretty simple and rather vague.(take a breath here, sing an alternate lower note there, etc.) Let me say that there is absolutely nothing wrong with this.  It can solve the problem, and the singer's own technique and vocal journey remain unscathed.

Sometimes, however, the musical director starts to give the singing actor a voice lesson.   And sometimes, just sometimes, that musical director's impromptu voice lesson is chock full of awful advice.

Here's the thing.  Most often, musical directors are brililant piano players and brilliant musicans. Being a brilliant musician, however, does not necessarily make you a brilliant vocal pedagogue.  Giving someone improper vocal instruction can cause them physical and sometimes even psychological harm. I know this seems extreme, but it's true. 

Musical directors are required to come up with a product.  They want a solid, clean, musical sound that is stylistically appropriate.  They are looking for a result.  That said, they sometimes don't know the process a singer must go through to get to that result in a healthy way. I repeat, in a healthy way.

As a musical director, what can you do to help set your singers up for success?

1. Try simple adjustments. (Add a breath before a difficult high note, make sure they have good posture, encourage them to add a lift to the sound.)
2. Encourage the singing actor to review the material with his/her voice teacher.
3. Contact a voice teacher colleague for advice if the problem persists. Sometimes a vowel adjustment or some other tool can help immensly. (For example: At the end of "So Much Better" from Legally Blonde, Elle's last lyric is "than before..."  Singers frequently go flat on this pitch because they are pronouncing the "r" in the word, before, too soon.  When we pronounce an "r" sound our soft palate depresses dropping the sound back.  If we are subconsciously thinking of that final consonant our mouth will begin to shift and resonance becomes increasingly difficult).
4. Learn how to properly warm up a voice.  Again, contact a voice teacher colleague for some tips.  If the vocalizes you are doing have no purpose, you're wasting your time.  I would recommend encouraging singers to do their own vocal warmups prior to rehearsal.
5. If someone is having trouble matching a pitch, that doesn't necessarily mean they are tone deaf. More often than not there is another problem. Aggresively pounding out a note over and over again will do nothing to solve the problem, and will make the singer feel like crap.
   
   

I must say it is rather encouraging to see that more and more Broadway shows are employing voice teachers to oversee the vocal health of the cast.  While this is impractical for most other productions, I do believe that with some awareness, musical directors can help their singers acheive the sound they want in a healthy and efficient manner.

 

KEVIN MICHAEL MURPHY loves both making people laugh, and teaching them how to sing.        www.KevinMichaelMurphy.com            www.NYCVocalStudio.com

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FUCK YOU, MR. SONDHEIM

How's that for a controversial title?
By Geoffrey Kidwell (actor)

If you read my posts here at Crazytown then you know that I’m an almost thirty-year-old actor/singer/dancer/waiter/manny/swim coach/blogger/head case.

You also know that I’ve often struggled with squaring how I thought I’d be living in my advanced age – being almost thirty basically makes one geriatric right? Or at least able to order off the early bird menu at Coco’s? – with how I’m actually living.

Some of my dreams have yet to come true, while others have come to fruition.

I’m in a great relationship with a guy who loves me despite the aforementioned wackiness. I have a tremendous group of friends. And I still have my triple pirouette and a six-o’clock ponche. Okay…it’s more like 6:10, but that ain’t bad?!

And besides, has anyone ever really accomplished anything by the time he’s thirty?

I’m sorry. What’s that?

Stephen Sondheim had already written the lyrics for both West Side Story and Gypsy by the time he was thirty? Hm…

This changes things…

Actually, you know what?

FUCK YOU, MR. SONDHEIM.

There. I said it.

Don’t get me wrong. I adore you – okay, I don’t actually know you, but I’m sure you’re lovely. I adore your music. Hell, I even love the second act of most of your shows.

So I’m a fan, obviously. But come on!!!

I’m almost thirty and I’ve never written the lyrics to anything, let alone two Broadway shows that changed the trajectory of American musical theatre.

But you said it yourself, Mr. Sondheim:

Art isn’t easy.

You said it like this:

 

 I was reminded of this little fact while working on a painting with Oliver, the five-year-old boy I take care of on the weekends.

We’re painting away when all of a sudden he looks at me and says, “Geoffrey, art isn’t easy.”

Just like that.

Art. Isn’t. Easy.

No it’s not, Oliver. It’s definitely not.

I used to be – and sometimes still am – the kind of guy who lives by the word, “should.”

By the time I’m thirty, I should have done this…

By the time Robert and I have been together for ten years, we should be happily married and in possession of a French bulldog.

In the next two years, I should have booked a Broadway show and should not have to supplement my income with any kind of day job.

But the other day, Oliver – and yes, I suppose you too, Mr. Sondheim – reminded me that as an artist, I do all of these jobs; I have all of these slashes next to my name not because I’m not capable enough or talented enough, but because art isn’t easy.

It’s just not.

If it were, there would be lots of semi-talented television and movie stars taking up starring roles in hit Broadway shows.

Wait…

I’d like to restate the thesis.

Art isn’t easy…to do well and with authenticity.

So the next time you’re sweating in front of an espresso machine at Starbucks, or filing papers at a law firm, or stressing out because the kitchen put cheese on a burger for someone with a wicked lactose intolerance, just remember that you are doing it because you love being an artist – because you really have no other choice.

And these silly day jobs, these annoying little tasks, are only proof that art isn’t easy, not that you aren’t any good at making it.

Deal?

Deal.

 

AND NOW...THE WEEK IN WHITNEY HOUSTON!!!!

I really miss her. Don't you? Here's Miss Houston singing, My Love Is Your Love at Diva's Live in 1999. This is exactly how I like to remember her. Young. Vibrant. Sincere. Beautiful.

 

 

 

 

GEOFFREY KIDWELL Geoffrey is an actor/manny in NYC. He spends his days just trying to figure it out.
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