Notes from the Fringe: Day Four

Sporting my new FringeNYC cap.

What's On David's iPod?
Brand New Colony
Postal Service - "Give Up"
(A long distance dedication, going out to the one I love. Awwwww yeah.)

It feels as though we have been here forever. And yet, only today has the Fringe truly begun for us.

It was a good morning. yesterday was depressing. Yes, it was good that I stayed home. I needed the rest ... and today was not without its additional stress. 

But I felt like I was missing the party. Brian returned late last night to report he had seen two awesome shows. Meanwhile, I had discovered, much to my horror, that when I eat alone ... I talk to myself.

Okay, okay, let's move on. This morning I ran the reservoir. Me and a million others, it was liberating, actually engaging in exercise, I don't think I have ever done that in New York. Not just walking, but running. My entire body thanked me.

Kelly our stage manager (SM)
Harris, our General Organization Director (GOD)

Tech Rehearsal

Our tech rehearsal was scheduled for 12:30. We had two and a half hours to run through all of the cues and get everything straight. It's a simple show, this has never been a problem.

Today, it was a problem. I won't say what was the problem ... okay, to be honest, there's some confusion as to exactly what the problem was. 

It was enough to say we put Grundik in the awkward position of having to kick us out at 3 p.m., with a lot of questions in the air as to how it was going to look for our 5:45, premiere performance.

Kelly and I limped back to the Village to check Fringe Central and which shows were sold for the evening, and to relax in a rather baroque cafe, sip tea, and count our blessings as regards to our significant others.

Sunflowers for Calvin. Thank you, sweetheart.

Opening Performance

Brian warned me it would be a small house. And indeed, it was. Every show I have seen at the Fringe so far has attracted a respectable crowd. But I have the show no one sees without being urged to see it by someone who already seen it. You can understand the Catch-22 involved.

The bad news is we only attracted 10. The good news is that half of them were critics. The people who run the Fringe - the people at SpinCycle - are obviously in my corner.

Yes, I was very tense before it began - I kept hitting my head on the ceiling of their subterranean dressing room. But I thought it might be a good show when Grundik, the venue director, introduced it in his somewhat broken manner:

"... The exits, in emergency are there and there ... you can get in shows for free by volunteering ... once again we thank you all for coming ... I hate this."

And then he just walked off the stage, getting a big laugh. I want him to introduce the show like that every single time.

Too hot for the sweater.

I flubbed some lines, and I wonder how the revised Sept. 11 scene goes over with a critical New York audience. But the response was strong, I felt good, relaxed ... and Brain said I did my boy proud. That was probably the sweetest thing he could say.

So. One down.

After we had some celebratory pub food at the White Horse, and then Brian and I dashed off to see the only show we could possibly catch in the vicinity - the boys from Elephant Larry performing their new sketch show, THE PRECINCT. People who know me know how I am not a big fan of improv of sketch humor. 'Cause it's not usually funny. These guys are funny. We laughed a lot.

And now I have a day off. Should I go into the Village, sell my show, pass out flyers? Should I visit the Cloisters, the Met, do laundry? Run, sleep, play?

I don't know. And tomorrow, I think that will be okay.

UPDATE:  Playhouse Square presents the premiere of the video adaptation of "I Hate This (A Play Without the Baby)" by David Hansen, directed by Chennelle Bryant-Harris and performed by James Alexander Rankin, in the Westfield Studio Theatre on Saturday, October 15, 2022. 

Wow. An edited version of the radio diary Toni and I wrote for WCPN on the Tunick installation was broadcast this last weekend on a new, national NPR program called Public Radio Weekend.

Not a great edit. Kinda weird, listening to that. You can still hear the complete version by visiting my Spencer Tunick page.

What's In David's Mug?
Throat Comfort tea, lemon and honey.
(Thanks for asking.)

Oh well, another rainy day in the Big Apple -- wait, no, that's not me, that was the opening narration from a sit-com. Spoken by a spunky young woman. Let me start again.

I always find it difficult to wake up early in New York. Must have something to do with exhausting yourself walking the width of Downtown a few times, and staying up until 2 am writing a blog.

A BLOG! A BLOG! I AM WRITING A BLOG! WHAT AM I DOING, HOW RIDICULOUSLY SOLIPSISTIC CAN I BE???!!!

Glad I got that out.

The plan was to take it easy, sure. And it was raining. But Brian and I walked downtown a little, swinging through Central Park, briefly, so I could eyeball the reservoir. Great running track around the reservoir, and I was hoping to begin tomorrow (and tomorrow, and tomorrow.)

We would return to the Village, he had a box office meeting, and I would sit around, maybe catch a show. But shortly after lunch I realized that the catch in my throat was not simply overuse, but probably something else. Toni has a cold. Zelda has a cold. And I decided, forget this, I am going home.

Note to Donna; Brian wanted me to tell you we had lunch at this Indian place that had an awesome buffet. And the mango lazzis were real tasty. You would have loved, loved, loved it. Mmmmmmmmmmmm.

And can I just report how awesome Erin is (and her roommates Katie and Tom) for letting us stay here. They keep a very neat and pleasant home, and I hope we aren't mesing up the feng shui too much (but then, if I have to ask ...)

Anyway, it's a lot of tea, rest and Harry Potter. Oh, and maybe going over my lines. Am I nervous? Well, here's the thing ... I do not expect a critic. I think I would prefer not having one. I have been clocking the reviews in the New York Times and some of them are pretty blunt. I just want people to show up. And I need to do the best I can.

Notes from the Fringe: Day Two

I got blisters on my feet.

photo: Brian and I outside The Next Stage

Brian and I had a big day planned ... if not an interesting one. We were going to walk all over the West Village and drop postcards and put up posters, and in fact, that's just what we did.

First, however, we had breakfast with Harris and Liz closer to home base. Man. I like New York City diners, but EJ's is just way too cramped and far too air conditioned. I could barely stir my coffee.

Now ... when I am usually in NYC, Toni is my brain. It's her city, I began visiting this place to be with her, and we have returned many times since she moved to Cleveland. So I would just follow - I always knew where I was going, because a was with her.

So as we started, I was treating Brian like Toni. Where are we headed? Which way are we going? Where the hell are we? I don't know if it was bothering him, but it was frustrating the hell out of me.

But we did get an awful lot of area covered. And I heard this evening one other fringe artist compliment our work getting the word out. This is good.

However, Brian left me to have a cookout in Queens with some people he had only met through an online chat room, and not in real life. Yes, I told him that sounded kind of creepy. But it left me all alone, beginning at around 2 in the afternoon.

And the moment he headed up the street, I felt a sensation I had not felt in a very long time. I was alone. And I had nothing to do.

I have spent about three months of my life living alone. And my days are usually dictated by work, theater, or family. I know what I need to do, and I know where I am supposed to be.

And now I ... I was supposed to ... uh ... postcards. Posters. West Village. Where the hell am I? Which way am I going? What am I doing?

I did cover more ground. But I was going in circles, constantly surprised by what was around the corner. Wait - Bleeker is parallel to West 3rd ... right? And so is Sullivan. No, it's not, damn.

I could always keep an eye out for Washington Square Park - where I caught (part of) my first show of the day, something after my own heart. AMERICAN OLIGOPOLY is old fashioned, broad, unapologetic, agit-prop street theater. A semi-improvised, jumbo-sized Monopoly board (Guerrilla Theater Co. die-hards take note) where there is a "Liberal" team and a "Conservative" team, and audience volunteers and they roll huge dice - and I will leave it to you who wins and who loses this game. Played in THE VILLAGE.

This did little, inspite of everything, to change my mood, and so, on my next past through Houston and up, uh, Sullivan (I think) I promosed myself sushi at the next available stop.

I ate raw fish, I studied a map, I drank a beer. I emerged a changed man.

And then I saw another play. And what a play.

THE ADAMS CONGLOMERATE HIGH SCHOOL DRAMA CLUB PRESENTS: TALES OF THE EIGHTH GRADE!! is pretty damn funny. It claims to be based on an actual book written by an actual eighth grader in the year 1987. Having read countless middle school and high school plays for the kids' fest at Dobama, I don't believe it's a hoax. The four girls in the show get into ridiculous, life-threatening situtations that involve rape and cigarettes and kidnapping and everyone is okay at the end.

The actors are all incredible, they really go all the way with their "bad" acting. If anything it, like Queer Theory suffer from lack of editing, but it was a hoot.

As someone who was a teenager in the 80s (these actors were not) I was amused by some of the costume choices. I mean, by 1987 no one was doing to off-the-shoulder Jennifer Beals thing, or wearing a Pat Benetar headband. Puh-leez.

Stepping out of the theater, I had a real emotional treat. I ran into this guy (I am not at liberty to share his name, for reasons that will become apparent) who was doing an awesome job of pushing his show on people, he had a really great, loud patter.

I took his card, and gave him one of my cards.

"Oh," he said, "ah, yes - I have seen, uh ... I shouldn't be telling you this. Yes." He was awfully flustered. "I have seen your show."

"What?"

"I saw the video," he said.

"What? How? It's a really crappy video."

"I shouldn't tell you ... I am on the screening committee for the Fringe - I am not on the selection committee, I am not saying that, but I am one of the first screeners, and it's a great show."

"Oh! Wow. Hey, thank you!"

"Yes," he said, "it made me cry."

Amazing.

But I was still on my own. Brian wouldn't be back for some time and I hadn't heard from Kelly. And so I headed east, not knowing where I was going, but knowing I had had enough of the West Village for the afternoon.

And I continued east, dropping of cards and posters. And further east, and into the East Village. And I knew where I was going. I was going to find the Present Theatorium.

When Toni's play, ANGST:84 was presented here three years ago, the Fringe was concentrated in the East Village. And her play was produced in the home of the producing company, the Present Company. I was unaware of the fact that they had left that space on Stanton Street.

And I walked, for over a half-hour. And I did not use a map. I knew just where I was going. And I found it, all gated up, unused for what they tell me is several years. I peeked through the garage doors into what used to be Fringe Central, which was an open courtyard. It was wildly overgrown with weeds.

I am a creature of nostalgia. It was a difficult year that year, but I have a great deal of fond memories of the '01 Fringe. And this time it's very different, it would have to be. It's just me on stage. The subject matter is very, very different. No teenagers, or Dan Kilbane, to chaperone. And no Toni.

I guess I just needed to return to the scene of the crime. To see the body.

Just then Kelly called - and that was that for the East Village. She and her friend Sam, who she is staying with, were going to try and see HARVEY FINKLESTEIN'S SOCK PUPPET 'SHOWGRILS' and would I like to join them? I jumped a bus, walked lots of blocks and found that the show was oversold, so instead we went to Chumley's and enjoyed possible the best fish and chips I have ever eaten, ever. And, yes, a martini. And for the first time since I arrived, I was feeling relaxed.

Sam told a good story, too. Apparently she was a student at the All-Ohio Thespian Conference in 1994 when Guerrilla Theater Co. conducted a class there. And you know, she was looking for proof then that theater could be relevant and important and actually say something ... and apparrently that's something we accomplished. It was a big surprise to hear that - my memories of that period in my life are pretty dark. I was grateful to know my life wasn't as worthless then as I thought it was.

photo: Chicks with Vespas in the East Village

The evening concluded with GORK! THE RETARD ALWAYS WINS back at The Next Stage. Wow. Autumn Terrill is my new hero. I have been largely enjoying the shows I have been seeing here, but she revived my faith that Fringe can be truly astonishing and transcendent. And just ... well, gee whiz, she's just a powerhouse.

She tells the story of the her life with her ...well ... retarded brother. With humor, with love, and with a really big voice. It's the first solo show I have seen this time out, and it's a challenge I hope I can live up to.

What's On David's iPod?
Future Sightings
I Am The World Trade Center
Cover Up
(Thanks for asking.)

Notes from the Fringe: Day One

Upon returning from the Spencer Tunick unvieling at MOCA last night (Friday night) I got exactly one hour of sleep before rising at 1:30 am. I have been up ever since.

Brian (our Authorized Company Representative), Kelly (Stage Manager) and myself, left town around 3:30 am, and made very good time to New York. Brian also took this opportunity to learn how to drive a stick. We actually got into Manhattan with very few wrong turns, though I was a little shaken by Brian's safe driving habits. I know how to drive like an NYC cabbie, and feel safer that way. If everyone decided to drive backwards, wouldn't driving forwards be kind of dangerous?

Fringe Central

We checked in at Fringe Central, which is located just off Washington Square. As soon as possible, I began handing our small ticket-sized flyers out to people. A lot of people say the same thing; "Oh - I've heard about this." I don't know what that means. I was thrilled to discover that we received capsule mentions in both New York Newsday and something called The L Magazine. That last struck me as interesting.

Now ... we had a car full of stuff to be dropped off at the space, and our personal effects. Timing was important; shows were on, we would have a limited window to get things into The Next Stage.

We had lunch at a sidewalk table at a nice pub on Bleeker - there was a street festival going on, too. We were already very, very punchy, but the food made everything a lot better.

The Next Stage

Finally arriving at The Next Stage, we met our Tech Rep, Grundik, and were told it would be best if we waited until the next show began, because one was about to start.

So Brian and I took the opportunity to see our first show - and I got to scope out my performance space. The Next Stage actually looks and feels a lot larger than what I had prepared myself for. I am looking forward to working there, a lot - except for the atmosphere. They do have air conditioning ... but they can't run it. It would be too loud. I think I will be performing in a t-shirt.

We saw THE END OF THE LINE by Jessica Hammer. I call it a "woulda, coulda, shoulda" play. The story is the familiar tale of a naive girl from the Midwest meeting a flinty NYC resident on the subway, and how they come to be friends. The conceit is that all the plagues visit them, in order (blood, frogs, lice, etc.) through direct narratives to the audience and their performer encounter on the World Trade Center line. When a villain intrudes on the stalled, trapped victims on the subway, they all gang together to defeat him. Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

I liked the performance of Melissa Shaw as the New Yawker. She had an understated sense of humor that really complimented the dialogue.

Afterwards, we loaded all of our stuff in, and took Kelly to her friend's place in Queens. Brian and I met Harris and Liz to swap posters and flyers, and then we finally checked in at Erin's 6th floor (pant) walk-up on East 95th Street. Her roommate Katie has been incredibly accommodating.

Soho Playhouse

photo: David gets stupid over QUEER THEORY cast member Matt Weimer

Heading back downtown, we picked up some kebabs at the waning street party, and had a half-assed attempt at passing out flyers and putting up posters. We made our way (eventually) to the Soho Playhouse to harass the folks coming out of DOG SEES GOD. Stupid me, it hadn't sold out. But there was no way, the way our day had gone, we could have made it.

We were encouraged to stay and see San Francisco's Theatre Rhinoceros perform QUEER THEORY, which I really enjoyed. Very funny - I haven't seen something outrageous and funny in a long time. And I really liked the message. It takes place at Berkeley, Harvard and Oxford, poking fun at academia's look at Or assault on) gender issues. Classifications run amok and the message, when it had one, was "let people be people." And there was full frontal male nudity for the kids!

Stand-out was Matthew Martin as Dr. Renee Webster, PhD. He's fricking amazing, a great drag queen with a pack-a-day voice and MAN can he dance! The materials was funny, but he made it hysterical. But I was fond of the entire troupe, really. It was a delightful capper to a stupidly long day.

Which wasn't over yet. Brian and I had to navigate the trains in the rain, and we did, but it did take over an hour to get home.

Not-so-private note to Toni: It's not New York without you.

Sweet Jesus.

This morning, August 13th, at 7:00 am, the power went out in Cleveland Heights. You can only imagine what went through my mind. It came back two hours later - Toni, Zelda and I took that as an opportunity to do some major rolling around time, but it still makes me feel a bit more uneasy than I already was.

Or maybe it was all the beer Phil bought me (thanks, Phil!)

Back to Dobama

This past evening we held our one-night only "preview" at Dobama Theatre on Coventry. This, I believe, went very well.

Okay, the truth is, I thought I didn't do the best job, I was very nervous and the stress made my voice poot out a little. But I have made a number of changes - not just lines, though there a number of those, but also in delivery. Toni noticed this. She was a bit hesitant to say the show has improved ... probably because I think I have done the show enough that there's more actual acting going on.

I am less earnest in places, and a lot more comfortable in others. There were a lot of scenes tonight where, since my tone was less heavy, the audience felt freer to laugh. They knew I was making fun. As usual, I ws surprised at some of the places where the audience laughed - but I am never displeased when this happens.

Anyway, BLAH BLAH BLAH - let's take your eyes off your navel for a moment, what happened? One of these days I am actually to attend a Coventry Street Fair - Dobama Theatre is located in a residential shopping district, the former home of Cleveland's bohemian fringe, and the primary stomping grounds for Harvey Pekar, for those of you who saw AMERICAN SPLENDOR. They have been hosting these monthly street festivals, and apparently they are packed. Vendors, outdoor patio dining, live bands and street performers, it just sounds like such a treat.

It was a coincidence we scheduled our performance for this night, but it was a plus, not a minutes, a number of people were dragged down into the basement that is Dobama Theatre - and reportedly were glad they did. Toni was amused by some of the comments she heard from audience members. Tom explained to the audience how, because I would be performing in New York on a postage stamp, they had marked off the stage to the size of the postage stamp. "Ooooooh," someone sitting by her whispered, "that's a good idea!"

I had asked Gina to make a survey, expecting a nice turn-out. We had about seventy-five people. And just as I had suspected, this morning's Plain Dealer piece attracted a lot of them. Gina, as usual, was wildly helpful, this night by getting everything set up and oragnized.

I was very glad to see my old Great Lakes partner Mariah there, and her mother Diane. And Tommy's mom Helen - always a big supporter of our work. Amy came from MOCA, and one of our good friends whose name I cannot mention because she is pregnant and hasn't told everyone yet. I may have suggested she not attend, sometimes I discourage pregnant mothers rom coming, but she really wanted to and I did want her to see it. Apparently it did shake her a great deal.

And, oh, wow, I know another person who was there - and pregnant - who I can't name for the same reason, but she didn't seem upset by the show.

God, I am kind of at a loss here. There is so much more to say about the show but my mind is a blank. Perhaps because it is 1 AM. In a little over twenty-four hours we leave, and that has me a little wigged. It is finally sinking in how painful it is going to be to leave Toni and Zelda for a week. I mean, that's going to be hard. Hopefully I will be too busy to notice, but it would have to be really, really busy.

Everything in its right place.

Oh my. Big fat picture of my face in the Plain Dealer today, and a very nice article on mine and Sarah's shows. Unfortunately, those of you who might be interested in reading it online will only be treated to a few paragraphs, for some odd reason.

They call the New York Fringe "prestigious." That's cute.

Boy, this is just silly.

Tom, Kelly, Brian, Gina and I were all at Dobama this morning at 8:30. Okay, that's being generous, but we were all there close to 8:30. First order of business - tape off the Dobama stage to represent the dimensions of the space at The Next Stage.

Harris had suggested I would be performing in my living room. My living room is bigger.

Tom mused that the technical specs that said the lighting provided had two different "sides" to the stage. I said they must have meant "inside" and "outside."

In Minnesota, I feared the stage, once I had seen it, would be too large. It was a wide, open dance space. It also featured a ceiling to floor projections screen for slides.

This space is going to be so tiny - but you know what? I am really excited by that. I think it's going to be fun. There used to be a small table for the phone - not anymore, we are placing it on the mantle of the fireplace (Harris: take note.) And the slides will be a PowerPoint presentation, on a monitor placed (we hope) on the piano.

The rocking chair will be tucked away in the corner by the door, hopefully far enough away from the the window-mounted air conditioner. Did we mention there will be air conditioning?

However ... we did not make it very far through tech before I had to, or I should say, far enough. We will do the actual cue-to-cue, with the actor, tomorrow afternoon.

I guess there's nothing very interesting to be concerned about. Everything is running smoothly. I work with great people.

Hey, we're in Cool Cleveland, the home of everything cool and Cleveland. Cool.

Tai Chi Chuan, Everyday ...

So I took a Tai Chi lesson tonight, for the first time since I began rehearsing AM REV - which was maybe three months ago. I wouldn't have even gone this evening if Toni hadn't strongly encouraged me to. And yes, I am glad I went.

Even though I am lousy at it. I can't concentrate on anything for more than a moment, how can I breathe, relax and move without suddenly trying to make sure I don't forget to say this line differently, call so-and-so about an article, and damn do I really need to fart.

But tht's why I am there, to change all that. To improv. To keep moving towards ... something. I don't know. But I have a thing about those cute little shoes.

The new phone book is here!

Wow. The August print edition of theatermania.com came in the mail today. Woo boy! There's a photo of me in it! Way cool! Makes up for all the dumb things I said.

Seriously, though, it all helps. I am glad there is at least one publication in New York that has something on my show it. That's nothing but good.

Tech

Tomorrow we tech at Dobama. 8:30 in the morning. I should be in bed.

"Is Our Children Learning?"

The theatermania.com article on our show and several other Fringe offerings is now online, and a print version will soon be available all over Manhattan.

Yep. I cannot describe this show without making it sound wretched, no matter how I try.

"I get to share all the things I learned." Yes, I really said that. Because that's why we go to theater. To learn things.

There's Always Someone Cooler Than You ... In The New York Times

What's On David's iPod?
There's Always Someone Cooler Than You
Ben Folds
Sunny 16

Big, full-page article on the Fringe in the Times yesterday. No, we weren't featured, which is no big surprise - especially given what was featured. Some high profile plays or players, that's for sure.

What's a shame is that some of these shows were on my must-see list - and now I am almost certain there is no way I will get to see them. DOG SEES GOD: CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE BLOCKHEAD was a big favorite - an unauthorized look at what the Peanuts kids might have been like as teenagers. Right up my alley. What I didn't know was that the guy who was the gay friend in "Mean Girls" plays Charlie Brown. And now it's been written up in the Times. Might be sold out by opening. That happens.

I mean, I could see these shows, I could order my tickets now. But they are $15 a pop, and I want to see as many shows as possible. Unlike Minnesota, where Fringe artists see shows for free, we have to pay (admittedly, a discounted admission) and we have to wait until all other tickets are sold.

What obviously sucks about that last part is that you may wait until curtain to get in, not get in, and then you've blown any chance of running off to your second choice. Kinda messes up your schedule. I don't mind paying the five bucks, but this bit really ... well, it blows. Really blows. Really, really blows.

However, what I do know is that I will make it a personal goal for Saturday, August 14 to be ready and waiting with a handful of flyers to meet and greet the sell-out crowds leaving performances of YOU'LL HAVE HAD YOUR HOLE, BELIEVE IN ME: A BIGFOOT MUSICAL and yes, DOG SEES GOD.

Along with about a hundred other of us, I am sure.

Home at Last (Temporarily)

The Mayor of Cleveland, by the way, sends her regrets - she cannot attend the performance at Dobama on Thursday. But I was very pleased she, or rather one of her people, called. I thought that was classy.

So, anyway, we have made it home. There wasn't too much to report, at least as far as this show was concerned. Got a message from the BROWNTOWN peeps, apparently they, like I, have been "googling" ourselves to find out if there is any mention of us, anywhere. Other than that, we spent a largely stress-free three days getting home.

Okay, that's false, it was actually pretty stressful. Zelda couldn't understand why, after spending merely five days running around in the grass and sunshine and gravel and mud and seashells and everything it was necessary to get back into the damn car again (adorable photo of a sleeping child, notwithstanding.)

But I have a peculiar week ahead of me - beginning with my procrastinating, as a writer will, on a paid assignment. I need to turn in a five-hundred word piece on "what I did this summer" to Cleveland Magazine by Tuesday morning. Only this time it won't be about appearing naked in public, though it will be about something actually embarrassing. I will keep you in suspense, I will say it has to do with a ruffled collar and a pork rib.

On our way home we did stop in Elmira and check out Mark Twain's grave, speaking of dead children. The graves of the two daughters who predeceased him are there, as well as that of the one who lived. And did he not have a fourth daughter who died very, very young? We thought so, but there was no marker, at least not there. Now there was a man plagued by depression - and not without reason.

Oh, but about this week ... writing, getting back on top of my employment for Great Lakes Theater Festival (in this case - dry cleaning) and teching for the show at Dobama. Brian reassures me that everything is well in hand. I am not sure that means it will actually be a fun morning on Wednesday, especially as I will have to leave early to appear on Around Noon with Toni. The unvieling of Tunick's Cleveland portrait will be Friday evening, and they will we rebroadcasting our 'radio diary' on the first half of the show Wednesday, and then we're taking questions, live on the air. Hopefully Spencer will be available by phone, his next gig is this weekend in Buffalo.

Then the show Thursday, the unvieling at MOCA Friday ... and then I need to talk Brian and Kelly into leaving Saturday morning at, like, 3 AM or something to drive to NYC because I won't be sleeping anyway.

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." - George W. Bush

"No News" Is Good News

Caught this on NeoPAL today - all three of you who read this blog regularly should be sure to check this show out tomorrow night at Cabaret Dada's Black Box. I would go, but I am in Maine. I expect a full report on my desk on Monday.

David Pratt has written a one-man show about his experiences dealing with the death of his daughter, Isabella. She had Thanatophoric Dysplasia and lived for a day. I have already been in touch with him - he says he had, at the age of 35, just finished his memoir when his daughter came into, and then left his life, and suddenly his "memoir" seemed a little self-involved.

I can say without fear of contradiction, I know exactly how that feels. I am so glad he has created this show, and hope I get to see it sooner or later.

Blogging Live from ... The Barnstable?

Friendship, ME
Who is here?
David, Toni, Zelda
Toni's entire family; Con, Chris, Locke & Adrienne
Most of David's family; Mom, Dad and Denny

Flood's Cove is not a very fancy place, and that's why we like it. The Barnstable (you can guess its origins) has brown paper on the walls to keep out drafts, and I was shocked when returning in 1990 after a five-year absence to discover hot running water and that a shower had been installed. This was luxury.

So you can imagine my surprise when, in a cabin with no cable (we received one and a half broadcast channels) and no phone at all - that Toni's iBook is receiving a WiFi signal. From where we do not know, there are a number of permanent residences in the area which may be connected, but none close. Denny suggested it may be one on Martin's Point - a distance from here, as the crow flies, of roughly a quarter-mile. But there's nothing between here and there but water, nothing to obstruct the signal.

It comes and goes. Cool. Weird. I should be walking in the woods, and not sitting here.

What Keeps David Moving
This morning's randomly generated playlist:
All Night - Sam Phillips
Piku - The Chemical Brothers
Pump Up the Volume - M/A/R/R/S
One Call Away - Chingy
Didi (Funk Club) - Khaled
I Do Not Want This - Nine Inch Nails

I have been running roughly three miles a day* since I got here, beginning with the hill that takes me out of the cove, and then following the road along Martin's Point. I get an excellent view of the water, the morning lobster boats (yes, I have chosen not the hear them) and the smell of the sea - today, the low tide smell. I usually run as far as my uncle Dave's place and back, but today I pushed it all the way to where the road ends ... another five hundred yards.

Moxie

I always drink Moxie when Downeast, the most horrific soda pop even invented. I am always surprised they still make it, I think it was bought out by Coca-Cola, but the natives raised such a hoopla they continue to make it just for them.

It's a less-sweet cola, which a subtle and extremely tasty licorice flavor ... and the nastiest aftertaste you can imagine for something that is supposed to be a sweet treat. But it's like your first beer, after a while you just enjoy the bits you like and stop paying attention to the parts you don't.

My entire extended family has taken to ripping on me every time I pour a glass.

[*actually 3.8 miles - 8/3/2014]

Full Fruit-Bowl

My article on the Spencer Tunick installation has been published in Cleveland Magazine. Three people, three different perspectives ... at least , that was the idea. Von Glahn was right, they all sound the same. We even all reported about the Nude Guy, ignorant of what the others were writing. Is that funny, or merely repetitive?

What's On David's iPod?
Everyone Is Someone in L.A.
Felix Da Housecat
Devin Dazzle & The Neon Fever
(Do the kids still say "da bomb"? They don't, do they.)

"I want to introduce my dead son ..."

Friendship, ME

Okay, this is going back a few days, but something happened on Wednesday night I have reglected to recount. To me, it speaks volumes about the level of discourse in our nation at the present time.

We're getting ready to watch John Edwards give his acceptance speech at the Dem Nat Con. It's on PBS so Jim Lehrer is hosting, surrounded by a couple of stiffs, including David "isn't my skin smooth" Brooks. He writes luke-warm apologies for Bush for the New York Times. I think it's the luke-warm bit which supposedly makes neo-cons like to call him a liberal.

Anyway.

So Edwards is about to speak - he's been introduced by his wife, and she before by their eldest daughter. The talking heads make mention of the fact that their eldest child, a boy name Wade, was killed in 1996 in a car accident. I did not know this.

Brooks goes on to say (in a passing comment - the speech is about to begin) that he never talks about Wade in his stump speeches - and then he adds, but that will probably change tonight. Or words to that effect.

So. A man - a lawyer, yes, and a politican - has chosen to leave a great, tragic, one might suggest "life-defining" event out of his political rhetoric. This is not what I would call a casual decision. I am not suggesting he should or should not talk openly about Wade with his audiences. But it is obviously a decision, a decision for which there are definite reasons.

However, Mr. Brooks would suggest that John Edwards would go back on that choice out of some political need. Having decided to keep his personal reaction to the sudden, early death of his eldest son to himself (he does, always, acknowledge his son, by name, as a present member of the family, which is beautiful) what kind of man would he be to go back on that decision? What kind of person is Brooks suggesting he is by that comment?

I am just sick of the characterizations which have arisen in this campaign. From all I can see, Edwards is a good man. And he chose, once again, not to make Wade part of a campaign speech. Brooks was wrong, about an insignificant detail, perhaps, a small, thoughtless comment right before the speech, one we can all forget about.

... unless Edwards had chosen, instead, to make passing mention of the accident (he doesn't even do that, he refers to his eldest son as though he simply couldn't make it that night, which in a sense, it true) in which case Brooks could say "I told you so" and transform a new insight into Edwards' character as simply another political manipulation.

As Denny puts it, Brooks, like all the other heads, left right and non-existent center, are paid to write and say what people want them to say.

Talk to a local, they know what you need.

Hampton Inn: Bow (outside Concord), New Hampshire

Toni and I have a rule on road trips - no chains. We cannot eat in a franchised establishment without first making a legitimate attempt to find something home-grown. It's has always been very tempting, first leaving the Interstate, to pull into the nearest B*b E***s - D***'s - A****bee's or what have you, especially when your butt is tired and your feet are cramped. Even more so when you have an anxious toddler (who turned 18 months today, if you can believe that.)

Normally, we press on into whatever city is nearby, sometimes five miles up the road, some little burg, forgotten as a result of the big, nasty National Highway System. Thank you, Eisenhower. And we meet friendly people, the food is better, and cheaper. And it makes you feel like you've actually gone somwehere, and didn't just take a turn at Westlake.

Case in point - we load up from Syracuse around 9:30, with a resolution to go an hour before breakfast (it was a late night, we fell asleep watching Kerry's speech, and if that doesn't suggest we are all doomed, don't say I didn't warn you) and got off the turnpike at Hermiker, NY and decided to ask the Toll Booth Guy for advice. He was corpulent and had poor teeth.

"Can you recommend somewhere for breakfast?" I ask, handing him our ticket and cash.

"Okay," he says with a sigh, as though he knew I was going to ask that before we pulled up, "I can give you D***y's or a diner."

"Diner," Toni and I said, simultaneously.

He rattles off easy directions, and says the place is called "Chet's." And he was right, that place was great. Pretty homely, with lots of photographs of kids on the noteboard next to the bathrooms. The portions were not obscene and the price was right.

There was a McD*****'s up the street, the aforementioned D***y's we had passed, and a K** ... I wonder how much early morning business Chet's used to get, when it was "The Diner."

Holiday Inn: Syracuse, New York

Road Trip! We are headed for Friendship, Maine for a week with the extended family - mine and Toni's. Should be quite enjoyable - and make for a lame blog. Who knows. I have wondered whether taking a ten day vacation shortly before embarking on this NY Fringe gig would be an exercise in relaxation or futility. Will I succeed in taking an hour a day to rehearse my show, maybe out in the woods somewhere (or maybe in the outhouse, in order to approximate the size of our West Village venue) or will I merely whine about the fact that I am not rehearsing?

Yes. Interesting reading, indeed.

Anyway, Friendship is not so far afield I won't be able to check in on the company nor give regular reports on this thing. At least, I don't think so. And maybe there will be pretty pictures of puffins.

Oh, and we have indoor plumbing there. Not an outhouse. I just said that to be smart.

Next up: nagging Brian to pick up the postcards and posters to send to Harris and Liz in advance of our arrival, and then nagging them to distribute them around Downtown Manhattan (or, as they say, "Downtown.")

Nag, nag, nag.

First Views of "The Next Stage"

Oops.

It’s too early to get paranoid, it really is.

Theatermania.com has put up their Fringe 2004 page – and we weren’t featured. They were holding out for payment, and who could blame them. Only we sent a check last week. I don’t know what is up with that, but we took care of it early today … and I look to see if our show is listed and it isn’t and I send this short email to them asking where is it … and then I see it and send an equally brief, contrite (is that a word?) message … but when I check the page the graphic (you know, the one with the blackmail font) is missing – it’s just not there, and I refresh and it’s still not there, and then I fear I have offended someone, so I called them.

I am such a little weenie.

However, it has been a big day for promotional doubt. I printed the Fringe Guide – it’s got the entire schedule, you can get your as a PDF file from the FringeNYC site – and, man, a whole lot of people bought ads, and they really do sell the show. I was looking at all the ads and none of the listings. We bought a big ad when ANGST:84 went to New York three years ago, but when I took one out for the Fringe guide in Minnesota, I found I was one of maybe a half-dozen shows that bothered to.

When I was beginning college, I got an advertisement in the mail for a "Freshmen 1986" guide or something like that, it looked official, like it came from the university, and I thought it might be nice to have a year-booky, orientation, memory-type thing with the pictures of the Class of 1990 or whenever we thought we might graduate. And, of course, it was some stupid, cheap thing, that not very many people fell for.

Okay, I didn’t feel that stupid about buying an ad in the Minnesota guide, and it probably helped. But I am looking at this year’s FringeNYC guide and thinking "oops."

The Next Stage

Harris attended the meeting at The Next Stage yesterday, and now we have a much better idea of where I will be performing.

My living room. That’s what he said, start rehearsing in my living room. There’s even a fireplace. The air conditioner? It’s going to be behind me. It’s a small room, the stage is 12’ x 12’. There’s a piano in the room that cannot be moved. The idea of projecting slides has to be reworked. And, as he puts it, the sound operator will have to sit on the light operator’s shoulders.

Some of the other companies were miffed at what they found. Not me. I am looking forward to it. The last performance I had (okay, not counting the Rock Hall at 5 in the morning) we had no light cues, only sound and slides. It felt a lot more intimate, even though it was in a lecture hall, there was less artifice. That worked extremely well.

As for the slides, I have suggested getting a monitor, and using that, off to the side of the stage. The place is small enough, I think that would do just fine.

And of course, they were extremely helpful when it came to rescheduling our technical rehearsal. We will be putting the show together in two hours on Aug. 17, our opening date.

What's On David's iPod?

Zelda is.
(Thanks for asking.)

Local Media

Sarah Morton and I had a joint interview with Linda Eisenstein for the Cleveland Plain Dealer this afternoon. Even though our shows don’t open for several weeks, this story will run in time to get the word out for the Dobama performance on the 12th.

Linda is a playwright in her own right (write?) and asked a lot of really good questions about how artists influence other artists – the conversation just naturally flowed in that direction, I guess, because of the extent to which Sarah and my works have influenced each other’s. That surprises me, actually, I still think of myself as a novice writer or playwright, and I see Sarah as this genius, the idea of my having an effect on her work is flattering.

But the facts remain – I directed her first one-woman show, The Eighth Wonder of the World in 1998. That was the same year I also acted in her Love In Pieces and Eight Impressions of a Lunatic, the year Sarah told Linda she called the "David Hansen" year, though I referred to it as the "Sarah Morton" year.

Now, in spite of my being a great admirer of her work, I would have found it difficult to write my own one-person show without going to the 2001 Fringe and seeing the variety of solo shows I did. Sarah is an amazingly poetic writer, and she has a much broader vocabulary than I do. It was hard to think of writing for myself without thinking my work had to be 'heightened' in some way. However, I decided to just be myself with this story, tell it, use my journals, why not? It works for Trent Reznor.

Meanwhile, having broached such an intensely personal subject, Sarah says seeing IHT made it possible for her to feel comfortable (if that is the right word) tackling her own demons with 4 Minutes to Happy.

"Fubu"

"We just had our first line of urban apparel? Do you mean FUBAR?" - Brian

I might have meant FUBAR, but I think I really meant BUFU which means something similar, but a lot less passive.

G.O.D.

Harris is our man in New York (we have a woman in New York, too – Hi, Liz!) and he is acting as ACR at a technical meeting this afternoon. We will be asking the important questions, checking with other companies about getting a screen, or using our projector, or whatever deals he can carve. And he will have a camera, so we will have photos of the space tonight.

And then I will have a much better idea of where I will be, literally, on the 17th.

I pressed Harris for a bio earlier for the program and he asked what his title was and I said "Technical Operator" unless there was something else he preferred. He told me … and I suggested instead we call him "General Operations Director" so we don’t offend anyone.

AIR CONDITIONING

Yes, it is a lot of fun to open an email from your Authorized Company Representative that begins:

DO NOT PANIC WHEN YOU READ THIS EMAIL!!!

We have had our first major fubu. Every show gets one tech rehearsal, the duration is dictated by the length of your show. Our show opens Tuesday, Aug. 17. Our technical rehearsal has been scheduled for Tuesday, Aug. 10.

A full week before our show opens. And four days before we can leave for New York. Suddenly the fact that the space we are booked for - the space a number of the shows we are sharing it with will also find surprising – which was touted for it’s a/v capabilities, has neither a projector nor a screen.

We have our own projector. The screen is a minor inconvenience. The tech rehearsal hurts.

Anyway, Brian is working on it, and Grundik will hopefully be able to work something out with the space. Hopefully. I am not sure what comes next if he can’t, but we are a small show, with very limited tech. Actually, I think all the shows in that space are, but hey, uh … we’re from Cleveland.

That’s the bad news. The good news? AIR CONDITIONING!

That’s going on the website. AIR CONDITIONING!

Happy birthday to me.

New developments: Harris has found a rocking chair in NYC. I always need a new rocking chair, it’s like the drummer in Spinal Tap. I had one in Cleveland, it split. Denny found one in Minnesota; I bought it, brought it home, it split.

Harris’ rocking chair is metal. Take that.

You can now download the haunting opening melody from the show, composed by the incomparable Dennis Yurich.

Calliope Katherine Koesters!

Nick and Carolyn had a baby!

Calliope was born Thursday, July 22 at 8:16 am at Lakewood Hospital. She weighed 7 pounds and was 20 and 1/4 inches long. Meg Chamberlain performed as doula. Everyone is "happy and healthy."

Gen X. Our kids' names rock.

What’s On David’s iPod?
Slow (Chemical Brothers Mix)
Kylie Minogue
Music from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
(Metrosexual? Please, we prefer ‘fey’.)

Lush Life

When Toni and I were honeymooning we came across this fabulous skin product shop in Vancouver called LUSH. Their entire deal is that their stuff is "handmade" and contains "natural" ingredients. Whatever. We just love what they make and it’s a real guilty pleasure.

One a year or so we get a box of happy things from them, and as time goes by I think I get more stuff for me than Toni does for herself.

I have developed an unhappy T-zone which is delighted by the exfoliating effects of my new bar of Fresh Farmacy as well as a post-shower treatment of Imperialis (contents include lavender, mullein leaf, orange blossom water and olive oil, among a number of lovely butters.) I also have a new shaving mucilage, as well as a body bar that fairly reeks of patchouli.

I like being a girl.

Hair Loss

Next question: How in the hell did a local "hair restoration" business get their hands on 1) my parents address in Lakewood attached to 2) my birth name, which I have not used since 1986, replete with the information that 3) I have male pattern baldness?

These places infuriate me. They begin by stating "hair loss has plagued mankind for centuries," and reassure me that "with the advances of medical technology, there is no reason to suffer from hair loss."

F*** you very much, is all I can say, I am not plagued, and neither do I suffer. You know, I got a hairpiece once, for a show. Never used it again, I think it looks ridiculous. I named it Hell Toupee.

I never had a nice time with my hair, I could never do anything with it. I have to conduct a poll among my friends who go back that far – which, admittedly, number about two – and ask whether I looked better then or now.

What really irks me is how neurotic guys are about hair loss. I think I was better off losing so much so fast when I was young. I started thinning when I was 22 or 23 and was pretty much where I am now in about six years. Any social adjustment I needed to make took place a long time ago, and the only people I know who make jokes … well, okay, the only person who makes jokes is Nick. What a surprise.

What’s On David’s iPod?
Closer
Nine Inch Nails
The Downward Spiral
(Old school. This is old school.)

Bizarre Milestone

Ten years ago this Friday, I committed adultery. This, in and of itself, was not unusual. My wife and I had both gotten into the habit. I was about to turn 26. She was about to turn 24. It is, I imagine, something a lot of young couples do, or at least more than you might imagine.

What makes this date worth noting is that unlike previous dalliances (I would never have used the word ‘dalliance’ when I was 26, it would have made me feel old) was that the woman to whom I made what an entirely successful pass was an old high school friend of my wife.

That friend is named Toni.

It became, you can safely assume, a horrible, wonderful mess. And in hindsight you can speculate on the correctness of Toni’s and my decisions, but I wouldn’t give us that much credit. We were not clairvoyant, but we did fall in love, and there was little else we could do about that.

The wife (now the ex-wife) and I had been married for a few days shy of eighteen months at that point. Zelda will be a few days shy of eighteen months on Friday. I used to think my ex-wife and I hadn’t been married very long when Toni and I started fooling around, but when I put it that way I am not so sure.

In any event, I was listening to an awful lot of Nine Inch Nails back then.

Ten years is a very long time. I assume my ex-wife still despises me, she attempted to be in touch with me in 1999, five years ago (five years was also the amount of time between when she and I began dating and when we decided to get divorced: 1989 to 1994) but that turned out to be a mistake, she seemed to think I was still cheating on her or that I cared what she thought of that. I admit, I can use all the friends I can get, but it’s been a long time since I thought I needed forgiveness for what turned out to be the right decision.

Man. Toni and I were together for seven years before we lost Calvin. And it’s been only three years since then. And soon I turn 36. On my eighteenth birthday (1986) I changed my name to David. That means David is turning eighteen.

I thought of emailing my ex-wife this year. Another five years, why not? But I couldn’t figure out why, either, so I haven't. Recently she had her first child, a son. He lives. His name has the same number of letters as Calvin’s, has four out of six of the same letters as Calvin’s, and sounds like Calvin, if you say it while holding your own tongue. Don’t blame me if I thought that was really weird. Though probably not nearly as weird as your imagining me worrying all that through.

Or any of the rest of it.

What’s In David’s iPod?
All Night
Sam Phillips
A Boot & A Shoe
(Christians need to get laid, too.)

Describe Your Art, Please. Do Not Panic.

More free publicity – check out nytheatre.com’s FringeNYC exclusive previews. It’s great, you only have to answer these three questions:

1. What is your show about?
2. Why should audiences see your show?
3. What can audiences expect when they see your show?

Toni and I fretted over the text for our preview piece (oh ... uhm, I mean Tommy did) for some time on Saturday. It’s not as easy as you might think.

But the results are very good - people get to go into some detail about their show in a way their one line on the FringeNYC site can’t. Suddenly I have a desire to see THE BICYCLE MEN or BROWNTOWN where I may not have considered them before.

And then there are those whose previews do not help at all, I am sorry to say. YOU WILL LAUGH!!! (they desperately wail) YOU WILL LAUGH AND LAUGH – OH GOD THIS WILL BE THE FUNNIEST THING YOU WILL EVER SEE !!!!!!!!! JESUS CHRIST THIS IS FUNNY, PLEASE, PLEASE BELIEVE ME!!!!!! AAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s only July, and I smell flop sweat.

As for me, us, our show … well, how is this; "You can expect to see a man talking about his dead child for an hour and ten minutes." Yes, I should have written that. Or how about, "You will not see him cry, he will never scream, you will not be made to feel uncomfortable, we really, really, really promise."

One of the things Toni (I mean Tom) really dislikes about what … our company submitted is the use of the word "acceptance." It suggests we are all right with Calvin’s death, or that we are "over it." I suggested other words and phrases like "acquiesce" or "surrender" or "give in."

Other words … Tom avoided using in the preview (and would have recommended to others, had they asked) were poignant, uplifting, heal and laugh.

Oh and "resigned," that was another good one we threw out. We also made sure we did not suggest our play is a musical.

THE FUTURE ... and the past

Toni went to see Fahrenheit 9/11 last night. She was impressed by a number of things - and by impressed I mean it left an emotional impression on her – but the one which is most relevant in this context was his handling of the attack in New York itself. This is probably old news by now, but he leaves the screen black, with just the sound of the planes striking the Towers.

Seeing the image of that horrible occurrence – again – is unnecessary to revisit the horror, the grief, the sadness, the helplessness, all of it.

I have a scene in my play called THE FUTURE, which details my reaction to those events. September 11 was almost six months after we lost Calvin. We were going through our own grief process, and suddenly, so was absolutely everyone else. And new trauma, even entirely unrelated trauma, can rip open old wounds. I tried to write about that in a way that made sense to my audience.

That worked in Cleveland. And Minneapolis. But I didn't think it would work in New York. Not the way I had written it. I invite the audience in; yes, we were all on the same page for a moment, you were with me then. Because my audiences to date weren’t there, they were watching it on t.v or listening on the radio, as I was.

So I have rewritten it. And rewritten it. I have been trying to make it work. Without sounding apologetic. Without sounding provincial. Without sounding petty, or insensitive or super-self-absorbed. I lost a child. I do not know if I will be addressing someone who lost a brother or a parent – or a child – in those attacks.

And I hate that. I hate defining this part of my play by what I do not want it to be.

This is where Toni’s experience with Michael Moore’s film comes in. She says it’s best to be honest. Just tell my audience what’s happened, what I meant to say, and say that.

I am strongly considering doing that. Just throwing the thing out, turning up the house lights, explaining the situation and moving on.

This is a shame, because as it is THE FUTURE has one of the biggest laughs in the show. And as a performer, I am trying to figure out how to keep as much funny as I can. But as the playwright, I need to figure out how best to serve the story.

Amazing how controversial this one scene is. I guess that makes sense. Some find its inclusion a distraction from Calvin’s story, but it isn’t his fault he had to die in 2001.

What’s In David’s iPod?
A Little Less Conversation
Elvis Presley (JXL Radio Edit Remix)
Elvis 30 #1 Hits
(Yes. Cheese. I know.)

Road Trips

Toni and I love road trips. It is a little stunning to me to learn that the loss of Flight 800 was eight years ago today. On July 18, 1996 we took off for Maine via Canada – with stops in Niagara Falls, Toronto, Montreal, Quebec City and onto Friendship, MA – and our first meal on the road was at this great bar and grill in western New York, by the Canadian border. The crash was all over the t.v.

This time four years ago we were in the middle of our first (and to date, only) drive into the South. Not the Deep South, but we drove down to Memphis, east to the Outer Banks, and back home via Monticello and Athens. It was a big, three-week trip. It was supposed to be our last great voyage before our first child was born. But things rarely turn out how you plan.

Memphis was a real shock. I never understood Elvis until I got to Graceland. No, I’m being serious. You would think someone who never really enjoyed old-time rock and roll would find the place overdone and tacky, some small-time hick’s idea of opulence. And I guess some of that racist b.s. still clanks around in the back of my head or I wouldn’t have been able to write that. But I found the place charming, innocent; a boy’s idea of what a mansion should be like. Folks mock the Jungle Room, but I think it’s hysterical – as in, I get the joke, Elvis, you’re all right. I wish I had a waterfall in my living room.

This Fringe is going to be different. One thing I am not looking forward to is all the time I will be spending away from Toni, that will be a first. She is going to stay home with Zelda, and fly in for the weekend. I will be entirely on my own in New York, which – apart from one weekend in October, 2001 – is something new. At least by staying at Erin’s I will be familiar with the neighborhood, it’s close to where Harris lives. I will know where to get coffee … well, hell, you can get coffee anywhere. But I won’t feel entirely like a rube.

I am hoping I will be so busy I won’t notice their absence. But even spending a few hours away from Zelda when directing AM REV drove me a little despondent. Hopefully it will keep me on the street, handing out flyers, talking up the show.

Details

I spent last night designing the program in an attempt to take care of last-minute things first.

Our theatermania.com page is up. There was a bit of "controversy" (the quotes are to suggest there wasn’t really that much controversy) regarding the "logo" (those quotes denote a certain confusion regarding the word logo – I think quotation marks are used far too "much" for too many "stupid" reasons.)

Warning:piddling details ahead.

I was asked for a 100x150 image to use as a graphic. I gave them a shot of me holding the empty shoes. But it was vertical and not horizontal, they wanted horizontal. But I have no shots that work horizontally – square, perhaps, but not horizontal. So I gave them the Big Shoes/Little Shoes shot, extracted from the larger, sitting portrait.

The editor at theatermania.com, Melissa McNall, said she could work with it. Her use of the word "work" (here I used quotes where I might otherwise italicize) suggested she wasn’t entirely happy with it.

When I opened the page last night, I discovered they had added text to the photo – "I Hate This" in some kind of ransom-note font. I felt sort of foolish, I didn’t know she meant they wanted text, I could have provided the "Chinese Rocks" font I use for all the other promotions, but I didn’t get it.

But you know, I don’t care. I like the graphic they came up with.

Invitations

Tech News

Just heard from Grundik Kasyansky, our Venue Director for the Next Stage.

Grundik! That totally rocks!

The other shows at the Next Stage during the Fringe are:

The End of the Line
Le Fromage de Mon Oncle
Gork! The Retard Always Wins
Tinh Ruot Thit
Scarlet Sees the Light
Show Ho
Two Johns
Black Martian
Common Knowledge
Haole (Pronounced How-Lee)
and
Haven: A New Play with Music about Refugees and America

Twelve shows. One venue. A delightful recipe for chaos.

What’s In David’s iPod?
Clark Gable
The Postal Service
"Give Up"
(Thanks for asking.)

Invitations

Question now is whether or not I can get an audience for the free performance of I Hate This on August 12. A happy send-off would be appreciated. A lot of folks have seen the show – and a lot have not. Yes, I discourage pregnant women and the husbands of same from attending (my show is like a roller-coaster in that way, among others) and I have known people who have experienced dicey situations with the births of their living children who simply do not want to see this, and I respect that, too.

But how do I reach those who I have met in my travels the past two years who have not had the opportunity or weren’t paying attention? Getting in touch with them has been occupying a great deal of my attention the past few days.

We went to "Zoo Parents’ Night" last night, because we are the adoptive parents of an Asian small-clawed otter at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo. Usually it’s a thrill visiting the zoo after hours (the times are 6-9 pm – they do this once a year around Bastille Day) and we did have fun but it was odd because it was so dark, overcast and rainy. The girl had a ball.

This morning I cut my run short to scavenge a Little Tykes bike from someone’s trash and schlep it home – a bike just like the one at Turtle Park that she loves me to push her around on so much. It cleaned up very well.

What’s In David’s iPod?
Fit But Don’t You Know It
The Streets
A Grand Don't Come For Free
(Thanks for asking.)

Running

So yes, physical fitness is part of the game. I am an intermittent runner. Shame, I did not participate in the July 4th five-mile in Bay Village this year, AM REV had kept me from taking care of myself in any manner, whatsoever.

I have a dream that involves jogging every morning I am in NYC in Central Park. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Always wanted to do that. At Fringe ’01 two of us promised to do that together and neither of us ever did. Just too much staying up late, getting up late, and too many hot days.

The good people at Great Lakes Theater Festival have seen clear to rendering me unemployed for July and August, which is a blessing, as it means Toni can make up lost time at her job and I have been spending a great deal of extra time with Zelda.

And snacking. I need to be sure I can fit in my jeans for the show. Also, I don’t want to be caught off-guard when the time comes to do all the requisite walking that comes with spending time in a real city.

A few days ago Sarah asked for the notes from the Linklater vocal warm-up I used to lead people in during the Night Kitchen days. Damn. I wish I was that responsible ... I have resumed running, I will begin re-pounding the lines into my head today, do I have to care for my voice, too?

Julie

For two years, I have feared Julie.

As a subject in my play, Julie’s reaction has always been the one I have been most concerned about – more than I was of Henrik’s. This is because there is more of Julie than Henrik in I HATE THIS … but that, it would appear upon further reflection, probably has something to do with it. But I digress.

When I originally wrote the play, in mid-2002, I knew I would need to let her know she would be included, and by name, and perhaps in a not-too flattering manner.

When did I let her know? On August 26, 2002, the day of the very first staged reading.

It should be noted, more to my shame, that I was so concerned about how she would react to this news that I was blithely ignorant of the fact that the day before her daughter Alexandra had had her first birthday. And I plainly state the date of her birth in the play.

Julie took it in stride. She is used to being the subject of my writing. I neglected, however, to actually share the script with her.

Now, as a matter of great coincidence, Nick was at a New Year’s party thrown by a mutual friend of theirs – Nick and Julie’s. When they met, and he figured out who she was, in typical Nick fashion, his head exploded. Nick now has the unique experience of having met pretty much everyone in the play. After meeting Julie, Nick admonished me for not having shown her the play yet, and instructing me to do as soon as possible.

I waited until May.

And now she has read the script. I phoned her a short while ago. She praised the play, and was not offended. When I said I was performing it in Cleveland in August, she immediately started thinking of how she could bring the kids and manage to see it.

In college I wrote a comic strip. Julie says that while we were dating, she learned more about our relationship through that than from talking to me.

Along those lines, she was flattered at how much attention I had given her in what is such an important story to me.

First Production Meeting

Our first production meeting was last night. One of the great reliefs of this run is that so much of what is normally uncertain when undertaking a theatrical endeavor … isn’t. We can spend more time discussing parking, load-in and other technical concerns, rather than exactly what the rehearsal schedule is. That part’s easy – one rehearsal on Wednesday, Aug. 10, before the free preview performance at Dobama on Thursday. I just need to be sure I have the show worked back into my head before then, with all the little changes I have made since October.

One major topic last night was how to get the word to health care professionals in the NYC area. I used to concentrate on people who have coped with neo-natal demise, and I would still like them to come and hear the story, but the response I got at the Walker center last October from midwives, doctors and nurses was pretty amazing. They took it as a real education.

Fringe Shows

And I have already begun creating a list of shows I will want to see in New York. I wondered weeks ago if we would venture uptown to catch something on Broadway or elsewhere but given our schedule, I know I will be sticking to the Fringe. Still, there’s only one show, so far, I know I will be seeing:

Mossadegh
Writer:Michael Minn
Director: Michael Minn
In 1953, Iran had a democratically elected government. This is how the C.I.A. solved that problem. Driven by a power-pop score performed by a four-piece band, Mossadegh brings to life a pivotal moment in America foreign policy. Historical. Relevant. Loud.
0h 45m Local Drama Musical
www.mossadeghrocks.com

Yes, yes, yes, campers! Now that’s fringey goodness. Check out the website for MP3s of the songs. Rock on, Mossadegh!

And now for my next mood swing …

Lucky me.

SpinCycle is the marketing firm (is that what you call it?) that works with FringeNYC to get the word out about the shows. There are 220 shows this year. They no doubt send a great deal of time deciding which shows they feel afford more attention and which less

Ron Lasko is the main contact person for SC, and months ago he asked me to send a copy of the script. At the time I hoped that might be auspicious, but it was so long ago to me that I had forgotten. And then I did that girly-spaz thing two weeks ago where I panicked and sent some kind of pathetic email about "oh dear me, I missed a deadline, what do I DO?" He was very kind, he must get 100 of those a day.

What has happened, so far, is that he shared my show with the folks at theatermania.com, a prominent New York theater website, and one of their guys, Dan Bacalzo, was in touch with me today.

We had what I thought was one of my better interviews. He was asking me questions about how I came up with this, and what it is like to perform it, say, in front of relatives (more on that later) but also questions that were less weighted, like ‘why the New York Fringe?’ which I was only to thrilled to go on at length about – seeing as how that has so much to do with Toni and my relationship and how we started dating when she still lived there, and all kinds of sweet thoughts like that.

What I managed to avoid in this interview, which has proved very difficult, was defining the show in any way by what it is not. "It’s not depressing," I have said, or "I don’t cry or scream in it." These facts are true, but hardly selling points.

If it makes it in, Dan’s article will appear in their print version, which is dropped at locations all over Manhattan.

We are doing a lot of sweating over how we will rise above the hurly and get people in to see our show – I will no doubt bore any blog-followers with the finer points of promotion, but hey, that’s what I do – and this is going to be a great help.

Meanwhile …

Here is a public declaration of love to my brother Henrik, whom I worshipped as a child, and who has been a model of fatherhood to me. I would not be who I am without your strong, unwavering example, nor your wit, nor your faith.

If this play I have written has revealed anything to me, it is that people can change, life continues, and anything can be forgiven, if forgiveness is called for.

Workin' It
I am helping Sarah Morton promote her show in NYC. It is a shame we are going to entirely miss each other, our run will be through before hers even begins. Man, the New York Fringe is long. I will be designing her postcards and poster, and will help get the word out in advance of her arrival.

The show is 4 Minutes to Happy. See it.

Learned today that the folks from Inverse Theater will be on retreat the weekend of my performance, another drag. They came to catch AM REV in Cleveland a few weeks back and I was really looking forward to their checking this show out.

We have a space in Cleveland for a free, brush-up performance – Thursday, August 12 at Dobama. Thank heavens for Dobama, thank heavens for Joyce Casey.

Now, if we could only afford to get to New York …

The Schedule!
Great news – just got my schedule for NYC. Having worked on two Fringes already, I am wondering if this isn’t a superior schedule to those. My first performance isn’t until a Tuesday, but I learned in 2001 that opening the NYC Fringe is not auspicious. Not every one knows it’s happening yet, or has got it together to go. The opening shows act as promotion for those that follow.

So I have a solid second weekend run, with performances Thursday, Friday (late!), Saturday (prime time!) and Sunday (matinee!) It looks and sounds ideal. And with that Tuesday performance stands the only chance I have of getting a review of prominence. Not that I have much chance, not against Jonestown: The Musical or John Walker: The Musical or An Evening of Semi-Autobiographical, Highly Self-Indulgent Theater.

Actually, I made up one of those titles. Guess which one? Okay, no, I didn’t make up any of those titles.

And we are performing at THE NEXT STAGE which is in the Village, a million miles from Fringe Central. Actually, it’s only three—quarters of a mile, but it will feel like forever. Except – hey! We’re in the Village!

Things have gone a great deal more calmly today. Yesterday’s little hissy-fit came under control thanks to a little extra digging on my part, as well as some reassuring words from Sarah Morton. The fact is, the deadline fine-print read something like "You MUST have your press materials to SpinCycle no later than JUNE 5th – and failing that, well, they better be in by JULY 5th" or something to that effect.

We UPS’ed the promo mats, they arrived today. And you know, Ron at SC had asked for a copy of my script a month or so ago, did I send materials with it? See, I just need to take a few breaths. It’s already a hot summer for me.

Fortunately, the reviews for AM REV were largely positive. Now I spend all my nervous energy on this.

Publicity nightmare

Oh Jesus Christ, what a nightmare. What the hell is wrong with me? I have been so hideously distracted by THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION to keep my mind on anything else. There was a major FringeNYC press deadline two weeks ago and for some reason, I just missed it. Just wasn’t paying attention. That’s not like me.

God, I am stressed out. I feel like I am going into this with my head squarely up my butt. Again, that’s not like me. Last year it was all mapped out so carefully, and now I keep stumbling, every step of the way.

Letters from Professor D.'s Class

Hey Mr. Hansen,

My name is Kelly and I am in Jill D.'s Critical Writing course at NYU this summer. I was hoping you would answer a few questions for me concerning "I Hate This" and the New York Fringe Festival. As she mentioned we are writing a preview of the NYC Fringe Festival. Any help you can give me would be greatly appreciated.

-So, the Fringe Festival received over 800 applications. Why do you think they chose to include "I Hate This" in the Fringe Festival line up? What will it add to the Festival?

-What are your thoughts about being included in the Fringe Festival? What are you most looking forward to?

-And lastly, the subject of "I Hate This" isn't one men usually discuss their feelings about. This has to add another dimesion to the subject. What do you hope audiences walk away from "I Hate This" with?

Thank you so much in advance for you time. I hope the summer months go well for you as you prepare for the NYC Fringe Festival. I look forward to hearing from you--no rush though.

Wishing you safe travels,

Kelly B.

Hey Ms. B.,

Your first question is a good one, though not one I am sure I can answer. I first became acquainted with the festival in 2000 when I happened upon it when visiting the city. Since then I attended again in 2001 as a participant (my wife Toni wrote a play produced in 2001, I was part of the crew) and have kept tabs on it as people I know were involved in ’02 and ’03. I am curious as to what their criteria really is.

I HATE THIS brings with it a brief history of praise – Fringe organizers say they are eager to find new, untested works, but must be influenced when a show has been met with critical acclaim in its original run, and I am glad to say this show has. But I have always worried about the content – Fringe shows can be so arch, so "out there." But it’s what I got now, if you know what I mean, I didn’t create this piece to hit the fringe circuit, and so I decided to take the risk. I am very glad that they have decided to take the risk, too.

What will it add to the festival? An element of surprise, I hope. Selling the show is hard work, I think people expect to hear some sob story, maybe I will do a lot of screaming, I don’t know. When I think of it, I wonder what kind of person would want to see that. What I think I provide is a story, one the largest number of my audience is unfamiliar with, and tell it in a way that they can understand what someone goes through when a child dies. And they laugh, too. Laughing is allowed.

I am greatly looking forward to being part of this festival. I have a love for New York that has a lot to do with my relationship with Toni and am always thrilled to return. And our participation in fringeNYC in 2001, while difficult, was an important step in our recovery. This play was inspired, in part, by the shows I saw there that year.

One of the things I am most looking forward to is the challenge of getting people in the seats. My experience at the Minnesota Fringe showed how successful it is to meet people and get flyers into their hands. A lot of the people I spoke to directly came to see the show. Festivals like these create such a great community and I am looking forward to being immersed in that.

Your last question is a very good one, and strikes to the heart of this show. If I thought I were saying something that had already been said, I may not have been moved to write it. But my experiences coping with neo-natal death were significantly different from those of my wife, and I was not surprised to see how the fathers are overlooked, their feelings dismissed – and the extent to which most men in my position dismiss their own feelings and allow themselves to be ignored.

I hope audiences come away from I HATE THIS with a better idea of what to do when people close to them loses someone, anyone. It’s always better to say something than nothing.

Thanks for the questions, please feel free to ask any others. If you don’t mind my asking, I would like to read your article when you have completed it.

David

Letters from Professor D.'s Class

Jyana at CPT put me in touch with a professor and freelance journalist in NYC who wanted to get her students in touch with Fringe performers. I snapped at the opportunity.

Here is one letter - I thought they were very good questions.

Mr. Hansen,

I am a student in Jill D.'s Critical Writing class and I have a few questions I would like to ask you about "I HATE THIS" for the article we are writing in class.

1. Why did you decide to make it a solo performance?
2. How did you prepare to play a dozen or more characters? Did you have any difficulties, and also what are the pluses to a solo performance?
3. How does it make you feel to be performing a show about an uneasy topic like this at an International Festival?

Thank you so much for your time, I really appreciate it. The article isn't due until the 22nd of June so you don't have to respond immediately if you are busy. Thanks again.

Michelle L.

Michelle,

In 2001 my wife Toni had a play in the New York Fringe. It was a play she had written and had produced the previous year, before our son Calvin died, and returning to it, and returning to New York City (where she spent her late teens and early twenties) was its own part of our healing experience. I was running sound for the thing, and so did not have as much emotional or physical investment in the show itself, and spent a lot of time catching as many other Fringe shows as I could.

On our drive home I had a lot of time to just roll everything I had seen around in my head. And it was on the trip home that I got the first idea of writing this play. I think I even surprised myself, thinking something like "Oh God, you’re going to write a play about this, aren’t you?" Like I was ashamed, at first, to even think about turning what was, at that point in time, a very traumatic experience, and a fresh wound. But that’s what writers do, and all the time.

I had seen a number of solo shows at the ’01 Fringe, and some were very, very good. I had experience directing someone else in their solo perf. A few years earlier. Someone said to me at that time – David, you should write a one-man show for yourself. And my response was, what the hell do I have to say for an hour, about anything? Finally, I guess, I did.

But why a solo performance as opposed to a traditional play – the show is much like my journal, performed. That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? But I did write more personal stuff in that year than I ever had, and using it as the basis for the story, I am able to communicate the immediate feelings that come with this kind of shock, and this kind of grief. And as I am simply recounting what I went through, a direct-address, solo performance made sense.

Preparing for the different characters was easy. I don’t think they are astounding changes in character, it’s not like that guy in "I Am My Own Wife" I do not inhabit these other characters as much as … well, it’s like when some people tell stories, they like to impersonate the people they are talking about? It’s like that, taken to an extreme. The most challenging bit is when I have an extended conversation between myself and my own brother. But they tell me it works quite well. Because most of these characters are people who are so close to me, performing them comes more naturally then I would have thought before attempting it.

One major difficulty I had was with the one non-white character in the play. There is a nurse in this story, based, with no exaggeration, on an actual nurse we had while we were in the hospital. She was a terrible nurse. And my performance, in the early stages, was what I would call accurate, and not some cartoon. But it was apparent that she was of a different race, and that made people uncomfortable, and I didn’t blame them when they told me. So I changed her, the way she said things, the way her voice sounds – I didn’t want anyone to misunderstand what I was trying to say. And though I do not have a problem with altering certain aspects of the story to make them fit into a coherent tale, that bothers me. Because it doesn’t sound like her.

One of the pluses of a solo performance, especially this one, is that it is not at a "remove." I think it would feel stranger to watch people tell this story, with me standing outside of it. The audience knows it’s me, and I believe that makes it easier to watch, and not harder.

As for your last question, it was strange performing it last year in Minnesota. I was used to having a large number of people who knew me or knew who I was when performing it in Cleveland. In Minneapolis this was not the case at all, and when their reactions were muted (a lot of the show is humorous – but no one laughed) I was distressed … until a local pointed out the whole polite Minnesotan thing. You know, they don’t laugh at anyone else’s misfortune. I don’t know how accurate that is, but it put me at ease a little.

The fact is, in spite of its subject matter, I am always delighted to perform this show. And bringing it to New York, and not only because of its origins, is particularly special to me. Toni has such a connection to this city. When we began dating she still lived there, and we return often. And the city played an important part in our journey out of grief. The scene I mentioned where I have a conversation with my brother takes place at the Cloisters.

It will be a hard sell, it always is. Who wants to see a show about stillbirth? But I have always received such a strong, positive response from my audience – my company and I just need to hit the street early and talk folks into our show like everyone else.

I hope my answers are helpful to you, and I would be happy to read your article if that is all right. And feel free to ask any other questions if you need to.

Best wishes,
David

NYIFF Shows
FringeNYC has put the comlete list of shows on their website. Sarah's show, "4 Minutes to Happy" tops the list - everone credits me for being good at p.r., but I must remember to begin the title of my next play with a digit.

Only 3 show titles begin with the first-person singular pronoun "I". I don't know what the average is. Only recognize one show from Minnesota, one with a most unfortunate title. I won't mention it.

Writers and Their Friends

(click on letter at right to enlarge)

Every two years, the Poets’ and Writers’ league of Greater Cleveland holds an event wherein they honor some twenty-five members of the Cleveland writing community.

I was informed several months ago that I would be one of those chosen this time.

This evening was the performance. It’s an odd event, Toni and I got to attend in 2002 when she was getting her Masters at CSU. Then the theme was "Garden Party". Everyone on stage at the Drury Theatre at the Cleveland Playhouse was wearing light, summery outfits and hats.

The event features Cleveland-area celebrities, from television and radio and print, as well as a few actors, who do dramatic readings of bits of the selected works. The writers themselves have no input on what is read or who reads it or anything else, we are only to show up and watch.

I had to admit was not envious of whoever was going to be reading from my show. I don’t mind the idea of others reading my script out loud, but who would want to? I mean, it’s pretty personal stuff. Toni and I made jokes about who might be asked to read it, jokes I would rather not share publicly, even though they were pretty funny, two glasses of cheap white wine notwithstanding.

The theme for this year, held in the Bolton, was "Funeral". Quite apt, as it turned out, as a good two-thirds of the pieces chosen were about death, including, of course, mine. It was like a big joke, every reader making some smart comment to the bereaved before beginning their piece. It actually worked much better than the garden-thing.

I was surprised to see that the one politician on the roster, Sherrod Brown, U.S. Representative, was going to be reading my piece. And he read it very well, it was quite moving. It is hard for me to assess the experience entirely, I don’t even remember if anyone applauded, I was feeling terribly self-conscious, and hated myself for it. He read "Rocking Chair", which is perhaps the most upsetting scene from the play, at least to me.

We spoke briefly after the show. He checked to see if we live in his district (we don’t) and I got to tell him I am taking this show to the NY Fringe. I need to remember to send him a copy of the entire script, he only got to read this bit.

I have sent in my registration materials – we are off for the Fringe. Something that needed to be done immediately (in addition to getting a money order for a large sum of cash) was to put together a crew for the festival. They like to know who is involved a head of time.

Most importantly, we needed an ACR or Authorized Company Representative. Someone who would be in charge of all communication with the festival. You would think that person would be me, but it must be someone who has nothing to do with running the show itself, when the time comes. Someone who can stand in the house, in case of emergency. Someone to do, in effect, nothing.

Luckily, Brian has signed on for this position, which is great. He got to sit out the MN Fringe, keeping tabs on us using the website and through other means. This time he gets to experience it.

Kelly Elliott has agreed to stage manage. This will be the second NY Fringe show she has SM’ed – she also did so for ANGST:84.

First thoughts on NYC ...
It has been three years since I have even attended the New York Fringe. It has gotten much more out of hand since we were there in 2001. Last year I knew at least two participants, Rik Reppe and Michael Sepesy. Each had a difficult go of it, and a lot of it had to do with the blackout. Man, what a mess, that would have driven me crazy.

But with so many shows, it will be even harder than Minnesota to attract an audience, especially for this show. But it’s a challenge I look forward to. Mostly I am excited at the very idea of performing this piece in New York. Truth is, I first thought of this show coming home from the 2001 festival. Toni’s show had done very well, and I had seen a lot of solo performances, and while we drove my mind wandered and I started making little connections. It would be months before I would begin writing it, but I know it started there.

Part of the show takes place in New York City, of course. And then there is September 11. I have already began re-writing THE FUTURE, it sounds stupid and naïve now, especially performed in the Lower East Side. I watched it on television. Harris saw it from the street, walking a friend’s dog – in the Lower East Side.

I am getting a hair ahead of myself, however. I need to make sure I can even make this trip. It feels good to know I made the cut, even if it is a very large cut. And I discovered today that Sarah Morton is going, too. The Stillbirth show and the Depression show. We need to be sure to tag-team promote our gigs, we’re going to need all the help we can get.

Oh shit. I got into the New York Fringe!!! Oh shit!

31 Artists in 31 Hours

So bizarre. Virtually alone in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum at 4:30 in the morning. Fred Gloor and Margaret Lynch were there, and Kevin Cronin, and a visual artist. And the staff. No one else. I did the show, in costume, but without sound or music. It took 59 minutes. Channel 3 was there, but they did not use sound – I tried taping it but the VCR thought it was yesterday (Feb. 29) for some reason. No matter, Toni saw it, they didn’t even know who I was. No matter. I got to perform it again, for Calvin. It’s March.

A very good performance at the Walker Center. It was well attended, I think, I hope Ellen thinks so, too. Different crowd - I was nervous at first, so many health care professionals and their spouses, it seemed like a much older, more uptight (possibly, this was a prejudgement) crowd, but as Toni pointed out, they were much morelikely than most of my audiences to have ahad children, in addition to their intimate knowledge of what someone goes through in a hospital. They laughed more, they were with me more than most other audience have been. It was great.

Toni says she thinks it was the best she’s seen. I found this odd because I stumbled on a number of lines and felt an odd disconnect in places, but it was a different situation - no light changes, just sound to take me from one place to another. Toni says she liked that better, it was more me telling stories than having this "theatrical" thing imposed on it.

Already there are a number of people who want me to perform this in other places. And perhaps I shall.

Tomorrow night I will be performing at the W.O. Walker Center on the Cleveland Clinic campus, as a benefit for the Northeast Ohio Chapter of the College of Nurse Midwifery. Ellen asked me to do this, and so I have agreed. I hadn’t given it much thought, and then at the beginning of this week I got nervous.

But I still know the show, and space will work for me. It is a lecture hall, but we are using a PowerPoint program for the slides, and the music works the normal way. Only the lights are absent, it’s all one big lights up. I am looking forward to it, actually.