15th National Perinatal Bereavement Conference - Part Two

Subjects yet to be addressed:

• Would you like bread with that?
• Bereaved Father, Superstar
• Author, Author
• FAQ
• Brick
• The Castro Sisters
• Is there in stillbirth, no humor?

• FAQ

Recently I have been contemplating support materials - before and after mats that can surround the performance. The post-show Q&A is helpful (when Toni participates, it's much more valuable - I feel I just repeat myself) but if I am going to continue this, I need to work with someone to create a richer program.

To that end, I want to create a FAQ for those questions which are frequently asked following performances.

Someday I need to ask someone what FAQ means.

1. Is it difficult to perform this play? To relivethese events over and over again?
2. How has your family responded to this work?
3. Do you have any plans to record this on video?
4. Did you encounter any good nurses during your experience?
5. What does Toni think of you presenting this play?
6. Did you ever get any response from a certain baby food company?

There are others (you can help, send in yours) ... most of them I do not want people to read until after the performance. It's like, I do not like to have Calvin named before the show, or at least not just before the show, it's something I always ask the person who introduces me, because his names, whether he even gets one, is a mystery - and then I get to name him at the end of the play. I also do not want anyone to know if we have subsequent children beforehand, so they aren't allowed to reassure themselves during the show - to detach themsleves from what they are watching by saying, "well, it's all okay, he has living children now."

• The Castro Sisters

We could not have survived the weekend, or in fact much of the rest of our lives, without Kelly, about whom I will speak more eventually. However, it was the special contributions of the Christine and Aimee that made our involvement in the conference itself at all possible.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Aimee and Christine. Aimee spent the evening with kids Friday night, so Christine and Toni could see the show - and make Toni available for the post-show Q&A.

Funny story: Aimee was handed Orson. And whenever she put him down, he would stand there and cry, arms stretched up to her, opening and closing his hands for her to pick him up again. So she thought he couldn't walk. For two hours she carried him all over the hotel. When Christine came out after the show to help while we did the Q&A, she offered to take O. from her sister's trembling arms (O.'s a big little boy) but he didn't want to be held by Christine and pushed her away. She set him down - and he promptly toddled away.

We had made plans for C. & A. to look after the kids on Saturday afternoon, which became even more vital as I was useless, curled up in bed. They took the kids to Navy Pier, to the Children's Museum - and Z. got to ride on the ferris wheel, something we had promised her when we were last in Chicago in March but had to skip because of th weather. She hadn't forgotten the promise, and finally had her wish fulfilled this weekend.

Christine and Aimee joined us for that dinner at Ed Debevic's on Saturday - Toni's the only one of us who got sick. Was it ... the chili? Or is it actually ... the flu ..?

Will I actually adress the substance of the conference? Yes, I will - wait for it, it's all taken a while to digest. In the meanwhile, here is this new article on HAMLET in artistscahir.com.

Stateside

I neglected to mention the guys. There were a large number of men there, many more than I normally play to. When your audience is made up of nurses, that usually means nothing but women. I haven't seen so many men in the audience since playing the NY Fringe, when I had nothing but five guys sitting right in front of me. And that was more like a firing squad.

They were pretty stone-faced through the production, as guys tend to be when watching theater. It was only the occasional nod I would receive in return from a comment said directly to one of them that I realized they were listening, affirming ("Oh yes, I know.") and that they were, in fact, with me.

A number came up afterwards to thank me for speaking for the fathers. I guess that's what I do best.

After taking a morning run, Kelly and I went strolling. It was a bright and beautiful day in London. I got some excellent trinkets for the family, we spent far too much time in Lush in Covent Garden, and saw some delightful human statuary.

Flying home I overdosed on Virgin's tv-on-demand feature. I always get a migraine traveling home from Britian - the length of the flight? The dehydration? The light in the cabin? The turbulence? Well, everyone had their blinds down, it was the smoothest Trans-Atlantic flight I've ever been on, and as for the length of time, WOO! I have eaten so much tee vee in years. Watched The Notorious Bettie Page, the third X-Men movie, an episode of Little Britain and one of Green Wing. My time. All mine.

Green Wing is hysterical. Gotta find that one on DVD.

UPDATE: The best synopsis of HAMLET ever written. Sometimes, vandalism is fun.

Tour de Dave

Cleveland Jewish News Review here. Exactly what I wanted to read before leaving town.

Why does that read as sarcasm, it's not. "Sarah Morton's heroic performance adds dignity and nobility to the portrait of the troubled Hamlet." See, that's what I thought.

I shouldn't have been surprised by the hot & cold responses the production has brought. As if I imagined the theater world would have said, "A woman playing Hamlet? Yay, just what we've been waiting for!" My own father said something to the effect of, "I liked it ... I'm not sure I agreed with it ..."

Agreed with it? I don't remember making a political argument, I was just putting on a show.

Today I am juggling my work with last-minute packing - all the packing, last minute. I have swung from dread to intrigue as those around me have reminded me what I am in for. Quiet. No one needing anything from me. I get to sit on an airplane for eight hours and, what? Read? Watch tee vee? Sleep, hopefully. No one needing me to take them to the bathroom, read to them, cut up their food, no one to take care of.

I do hate to be alone, which is why it's nice that Kelly will be with me - a full-grown adult who could just as soon ignore me for several hours. And I am very attached to being needed. But for forty-eight hours, it's the Dave Show, all Dave, all the time.

Of course, maybe that's every day and I just don't realize it.

Digs

The Free Times review. I am "experienced and demonstrably astute." But in a good way.

The Cleveland Scene review. I am "supremely talented." But in a bad way.

The weather in London this weekend should be 63º and partly cloudy. Loverly. Finally found out where Kelly and I will be staying - the Thistle Marble Arch. This is a relief as I was not looking forward to telling customs I didn't know where I was to be sleeping Saturday night. Expect a report on my jog around Hyde Park.

Predator

Since Z. was born I have posted a large page of photos of her, and then she and Orson, every three months, like clockwork. Some have scrapbooking, I have that. I should be working on one now, for July - September, but I haven't had time. Now I am not sure I will be making time for that.

Last night I suddenly decided to take down all of those pages. I just got spooked. This isn't a thought which is only coming to me now, but recent events have just made it seem stupid to be advertising my children in that way, where they are, what they do, what they look like, what their names are. These are things someone could find out on their own, but I've made it too easy for them.

Acts of child rape, murder and pedophilia perpetrated across the nation in the past week, in Colorado, Pennsylvania, California and Washington D.C. have simply freaked this parent out. And to top it all off, I was informed yesterday that there is, in fact, an individual with a history of sexual abuse of children who, to their mind, has innocently been looking over photos of my family.

Maybe I will share more descreet pages of photos (nothing including "zelda.html" in the address) with friends and family, but right now I am not sure it's worth the risk.

From the Cool Cleveland review by Linda E.:

"Oozing misery and nerves, Morton plays a Hamlet pierced by grief and drunk on death. She handles the language flawlessly, and several of her scenes are the best I've ever seen -- her death, and the "nunnery" scene with Ophelia (a sensitive Rachel Lee Kolis). "

Man, did you have to give the ending away?

'Tis brief, my lord.

This is the PD review. So much for "positive buzz." He's probably still upset that I assaulted him in the rotunda.

Today, I am ill. Toni predicated this, she knew as soon as the show opened everything I'd been holding back would come out and by the end of the night Sunday I had what I thought was just serious allergies which blew into a nasty cold by yesterday afternoon. My diet has been awful, and then there's the running thing (no, no running today.)

Regardless, I have to get otu to Kent Roosevelt to see our actor-teachers. Tim and Kelly are working on the HAMLET residency (ironic? yeah i really do think) for the first time and I want to observe that, doesn't matter how I am feeling.

Kelly, who is my SM, finshes classes a little after 1pm. On Friday, I will be picking her up to head straight to the airport for our 48 hour trans-Atlantic event. The week is feeling a little too short right about now.

UPDATE: The British Department for Transportation website informs me that I can take my migraine meds on-board, thank heavens for that. They even hve a perscription on them to show they are mine. I had several doozies when I was last in London, and air travel is a contributing factor. For some reason, traveling west always gives me one. I used to think it was because I drank, but I didn't at all on the last trip and it didn't save me from misery. I think it's just stress.

Still, I will not be able to bring my hair gel aboard, which puts me in dutch with all the Prince Hals who qualify as attendants on Virgin these days.

This man will set me packing.

Performance in London in six days. I need to find out what the new regulations are for overseas travel. Thank goodness we're going Virgin, they give you toothpaste when you get on board.

Not sure yet what our accommodations will be. The big question is whether or not I have easy access to the river, and if I can get 12 miles (or something close to that) in along the Thames. For more tedious questions about running, visit the other blog.

This is the first time in some time that I have had no next gig. There's talk of returning to the British Isles next spring, but we'll wait and see what happens this weekend. And then there's Chicago, the culmination of four years. IHT was still a rough draft when I heard there was such a thing as a "perinatal bereavement conference." And it's taken this long for us all to get together.

In fact, and here's another thing I haven't had the chance to touch on in the past two months - all that business about the 5th anniversary of 9/11. As far as Toni and I are concerned, it's the fifth anniversary of everything. Of Calvin's death, and everything that followed that year. Sept. 11 was just a part of that. It's the fifth anniversary of my job with Great Lakes, we started making a Day of the Dead altar five years ago, and so on.

I've got two very special performance coming up. That's something to be excited about.

Oh, and we've gotten our first review for Hamlet. "On-key" and "off-setting," indeed.

UPDATE: Hey, we got another non-professional review this morning - read it only if you do not mind having certain surprise twists to be boldly spelled out for you.

Cute headline

Hamlet With Eggs
Shakespeare's prince gets a sex change.
By Marge Perko
Cleveland Scene, 9/28/06

What if Shakespeare's most famous brooding prince were actually a princess? That is the question posed by David Hansen, who directs the gender-bending production of Hamlet that opens at the Beck Center tonight. "What if [Hamlet's mom] gave birth to a girl, and to insure the succession for the safety of the state, raises Hamlet as a boy?" asks Hansen.

Playwright Sarah Morton plays the titular role on a dark and sparse set, its design influenced by German expressionism as well as Hansen's desire for maximum impact and function. "I hate furniture," he says. "I hate it when people have to come in and take away a chair."

Props aren't the only thing receiving the director's cut: Don't expect any girl-on-girl action between Hamlet and Ophelia, because Hansen deleted references to their physical relationship from the script. "My editing creates a seamless whole," he says. "I want people to follow the story the way we're telling it."

It's true. I hate, hate hate furniture. Just last week I attacked a couch.

No more be done.

My work is through. The show opens tomorrow, and so whatever it was I have been trying to do, is done. And so ends the longest month of my life.

Rising at 5 most mornings to take a run, I would depart for work at roughly 7.30, and conduct rehearsals for the Great Lakes education dept. until 5.30. These rehearsals were in Lakewood, during rush hour (both ways) it would take an hour to get from Cleveland Heights to there, or back. Rehearsals for Hamlet were also in Lakewood, at the Beck. So I would stay in Lakewood - where my parents live, and were generous enough to host my entire family two nights a week so I might actually see my children awake. Some nights I just ate on my own.

Zelda was very patient throughout, though she obviously misses me. This last week the actor-teachers have been in schools and my schedule had a little more give. I am relieved my work at Beck is through. It helps that I have been working with such wonderful people.

The Reunion That Wasn't

It has been more than a month since the Bay High Class of '86 20 Year Reunion. At the same time that I enjoyed it better than the 10 year (I am mellower with much less to prove) it was also kind of a downer. For two reasons I can think of right off the bat.

The first, as I have recounted elsewhere, is the music. No, it doesn't have to be an 80s revival party, but get a clue. Either its period or contemporaru - or both, I will settle for both. But it was alsways either the wrong song or the wrong era - Hooters or Hootie, take your pick. Yes, we listened to Glass Tiger, but we don't need to be reminded of it. Why is it only in movies like Grosse Point Blank that they have music that was cool then and now playing at their party? I don't think I heard a single new wave tune that night, only middle-of-the-road rock.

The other, more personal reason, is that my best friend did not show up. I have never complained about his absence, and never expect his attendance at anything. It makes it all the more thrilling whenever he arrives. I last saw him in November, 2003 - he came to the final dress rehearsal of the last show I directed at the Beck ... funny I should remember that tonight.

But he had written us a message, that he might attend. He wasn't at the last one. People kept asking me where he was. When the DVD "slide" show came on, how many of those picures of either of us didn't have the other one in it? And that's where it kind of sunk in. He was my high school.

I was surprised at the interesting little conversations I got into that night with people I had never had a conversation with, ever, let alone just in the past twenty years. I even got to share one of my favorite stories to the guy who was in it, to his face. He knew the story, and so did Toni, but it was a joy to tell it to both of them, and his wife, at the same time.

But I've never really allowed myself to miss my friend. Until that night. And I am shocked to learn that it hurts.

K!

During my all-too-brief residency in Los Angeles, I learned two things. Yes, only two things. 1) The value of dark coffee and 2) bananas are high in potassium, which is a natural anxiety reliever. What I was too stupid to realize was that the two cancel each other out, but stupidity was the order of the day when I lived in L.A., so there you go.

I am currently sitting in Phoenix Coffee on Lee, procrastinating. I have a cup of strong, half-caff coffee, a glass of water, and a banana. And what is it about the song Brown Eyed Girl that compels everyone to sing at least one verse out loud, in public?

The Push has already begun. It started with last Friday's performance, and Saturday's reunion. No, I haven't written about the reunion. This Friday I will officiate my brother Denny's wedding in St. Paul. That's why I am here, to complete (HA HA HA) my remarks and to go over the itinerary.

We have a read-through of Hamlet on Monday night, I resume work at Great Lakes on Tuesday, rehearsals for Hamlet and actor-teachers begin two weeks later. Then the Push is truly on. I will see my kids at dinner, if I am lucky, for about three weeks.

Hamlet opens September 29.
I fly to London and back the following week.
We travel to Chicago the week after that.

I get two weeks off to reaquaint myself with my children, who will have recently completed college, before visiting New York and having a little run.

You're right, I love it. If only I could stop blogging and get to work. Have a banana.