End of 2 Eras

Something beyond an amazing coincidence: yesterday saw the death of both Michelangelo Antonioni and Ingmar Bergman.

Two of the greatest filmmakers of all time. Utterly different, equally poetic. The Times Obituaries don't begin to do justice (how could they?) and I particularly take issue with some of the conclusions they reach about Antonioni, but they're not bad overviews of lives SO worth celebrating.

Bergman was borderline workaholic - all those movies and plays. Antonioni more reflective (wonder if he'd like to be called that, though) and more readily misunderstood. Anyway, people misunderstood his work more often.

Bergman had the added appeal (to me) of being a theater artist as well as a cinematic one, as well as being deeply sensitive to music in both stage and film productions. Antonioni's images and storytelling are stunning, breathtaking, poetry - his best work is as good as it gets.

They weren't really rivals in any sense other than maybe among cineastes who might argue over which one was really the very best of all time. Still, I have to think of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, political allies then enemies then friendly-ish correspondents who died within hours of each other, on a July 4th, no less. In the world of film, these guys are no less important, and their simutaneous loss is just as staggering.

Let me know if you want to get together for a viewing or two, in a theater or on video (blasphemy! I know, but sometimes we take what we can get) I have the dvd of Fanny and Alexander and aim to watch it soon...

Use Traveloshitty to book your next flight on Northworst Airlines

Ok guys, ready for a rant?

Big family reunion in the old country last weekend. BIG one - Grandma turns 85 this year; Grandpa turns 90; they just celebrated their 65th Anniversary. Not only that, but mom and dad both turn 60 this year and are celebrating their 40th anniversary. So it's a big year for the fam, and a bunch of the extendeds came from far and wide to a park near what remains of the family farm in Wisconsin (not to be bucolic about it all, that's just what it is).

Booked my flight through Travelocity, which I've used several times and had no problem with. This time however, they didn't email me the itinerary, and every time I tried to get it from the website I'd get an error page. Every time. Finally navigated voice mail to the tune of half an hour to get the info. So, ok, inconvenient and bad service, but nothing serious.

The night before my trip, I get a voicemail from Northwest Airlines: my flight connecting through Detroit has been cancelled, but not to worry, they have rerouted me through Minneapolis, and I'll only arrive about 45 minutes later than I would have. Fine. Good to know. I appreciate the call.

I even sign up with Northwest for frequent flier miles when I do the online check-in the next day.

But when I get to LaGuardia that evening, just after I call my friend in Madison to let him know things are going swell, they cancel the Minneapolis flight too. Huh. I look at the Departures monitor and notice they've cancelled an Indianapolis flight as well. So I look at the weather monitor: there's some storm action going on down south, and maybe a bit near Cleveland, but the Midwest is looking pretty clear. Call the 800 number and get a person who seems helpful at first.

"Yes, that flight has been cancelled, but we've already rescheduled you."

"Great! When's the new flight?"

"Tomorrow morning leaving at 11:30, arriving Madison at 5"

See, here's the thing. The party starts tomorrow at 10 a.m. It's a 2+hour drive from Madison. And we're talking about some elderly folks; they'll be wrapping up around 5.

So I try to impress upon my increasingly unhelpful customer service agent the importance of arriving in Madison tonight.

No flights available. Maybe they can get me into Milwaukee on Midwest Airlines. Hold please.

So I do, for about 20 minutes.

I should mention that at this point, the reasons given for the flight cancellation have been: 1) no crew available, and 2) air traffic control has forbidden the flight (no reason given)

When customer service gets back to me, she explains that her supervisor won't approve purchasing me the ticket with Midwest because the cancellation was weather-related and thus out of their control.

"What weather? I am looking at the radar - it's clear. What invisible weather system is reaching from Indy, up through Detroit and over to Minneapolis, but allowing the Midwest plane to land in Milwaukee? Plus, it looks like other airlines have been flying to this part of the country just fine."

She stopped even trying to be helpful at this point. Told me I could get a full refund, and that I'm free to book that last-minute fare on my own, at my own expense.

After many more minutes on hold with Midwest, I found out what that expense was (suffice to say: it was high), and tried Northwest again. This time, after even yet still more time on hold, I got someone more contrite who offered to find me a trip in on a different carrier, but by this time that evening's Milwaukee was totally booked (hmm. wonder why?) Best she could do was put me on a plane next morning at 7:15, through Kansas City, getting to Madison at 2:30.

So ok, that's what we did. Stayed the night in Astoria with a friend, cabbed at the crack of dawn back to the airport and slogged into America's Dairyland in the middle of the afternoon.

45 minutes away from the park I get a call from my folks that the party is in fact breaking up.

Shit.

Still had a good time with the immediate fam, thankfully, but missed out on the many 2nd and 3rd cousins and such, the barbeque (complete with corn on the cob that had been picked that morning!) and the games in the park with the kiddos.

Oh, and the true reason the flights were being cancelled? Northwest has been trying to schedule too few pilots for too many hours, and the union is responding with sickouts. Why not cop to that? Well, oddly enough, labor disputes aren't on their list of reasons it's ok to cancel flights without being liable to the customers. Guess what reasons are on that list: being forbidden by air traffic control, and weather.

Pretty lame, guys.

Simpsons Movie Madness!

Ok, so yesterday was kind of bipolar. One of those "just bust throught the workday shit and cut through the humidity so you can get to the good stuff" situations. Have to say, however, i had a few good things happen at work, including having some cheap movie passes delivered (a perq of the job), a very yummy sandwich for lunch, a truly energizing IM chat, and some good gear from a sample sale (another perq!) - see on paper it doesn't look bad; just trust me, there was some silly nonsense that got thrown in the blender with the 90% humidity to make some hot and sticky cream-of-malaise soup.

It was all leading up to the midnight premier of The Simpsons Movie, so on my way from work, i walked by the theater where we'd be seeing the film to pick up the tickets. No dice - big jennifer lopez event happening which drew an impenetrable crowd. Got to Riposo for happy hour & appies, and as sherin & i settled in it was like a mist of pino bianco on a cool breeze cleansed the whole evening. The prosciutto-wrapped grilled asparagus and mushroom-and-goat cheese flatbread didn't hurt, either.

We attempted and failed to do errands in an over-crowded Times Square (well, that time of day, is there any other kind of Times Square?) but got ice cream and coffee on the way, so all was still swimming nicely. Saw Grey Gardens, which, well, if you haven't seen it and you can score tickets for this weekend you should, 'cause it's damn good and it closes on Sunday and i don't think Christine Ebersole and Mary Louise Wilson are apt to do it again.

Then it was back to 42nd Street for the movie, the attendant crowd and excitement. So much fun! All those wacky maniacs silly enough to hit a midnight movie on a school night for the sake of the best satirical expression of our time. I mean the movie itself was good, and funny, if perhaps not quite as loaded up with guest stars and plot points as i thought it would be, but it built to a great peak, with typical Homeric conflicts leading to a massive environmental collapse by way of hilarious gags; and as they established a Mr. Burns-fueled energy crisis and the family made its break for their cinematic promised land... the theater went black.

I thought: "Genius! Leave it to The Simpsons to orchestrate a moment of true, whole art gesamtkunstwerk into a simple piece of PG-13! A momentary flash of brilliant darkness reflecting the nuclear power issue and the other environmental concerns established in this simple cartoon!"

Um... no. That would be me giving them waaaaaaaaay too much credit. It was just a regular old-fashioned blackout, and they couldn't fix it, and we didn't get to see the rest of the movie.

D'oh!

I mean, they gave us vouchers to see it again whenever we want, and whatever suspense there was about getting home at 3 or 4 in the morning was resolved. Just, like i said, the day was a little bipolar.



Oh - and here's the Simpsons character i put together for myself :) You can do the same thing if you click on the movie link i put up top. Send me a copy so i can see your creation!

images

The Edward Hopper exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston was really stunning - it's stayed with me far more than I would have imagined before I went there. Part of that was mere ignorance of the breadth of his work - the incorporation of abstract values in hyper-realistic paintings; the sensitivity to light, line and form; the juxtaposition of structures with the landscape; the utter brilliance of his characterizations with a minimum of commentary - such a dramatic artist, especially given that so many of his paintings have no people in them at all. And part of it was something Wim Wenders alludes to in his commentary on Nighthawks (and I'll be paraphrasing my ass off here) "The painting you are about to look at is dangerous. You have seen it many times, it is familiar, you think you know it. But close your eyes: how many people are seated at the counter? What is written above the awning? Is there a streetlamp? Another visible source of light? Are any of the windows across the street open? Is there a gun in one of them?" And he went on to discuss how cinematic Hopper was - how much he owes the movies and how much more the movies owe him (points echoed by the detail that Steve Martin - a big collector - loaned a number of pieces to this exhibition, and narrated a documentary about Hopper).

And it's all true, of course. Almost worth the trip to Boston just to see this work.

And they have to live in Philadelphia too...

The Phillies are in the middle of losing their 10,000th game as i type this. Poor Phillies - the greatest losers of any team in any sport in all of recorded history. But let's not forget that a big reason for that is that they've been around since 1883 (almost 20 years longer than the Red Sox or the Yankees, though not as long as the Cubs, if you count their early incarnations). This does not, however, explain how they've only won one world series in 123 years...






In other news, Shawn White's publicist has been working overtime lately, am i right? I think it's a little hilarious that this snowboarder is all over the place in the middle of the summer.

Teensy taste of emergency

Some construction guys severed a water main down by the Holland Tunnel early this afternoon, and all of Hoboken and much of Jersey City was without water until about 10 minutes ago (it's a little after 7 in the evening). The hospital had a couple trucks bring in tanks of water, there was an emergency hydration place (I guess there was - no idea where though) and of course bottled water was available in stores and such (though the restaurants had to close: no restrooms = no restaurants).

It was pretty inconvenient, and the level of communication among utilities, police, and news agencies fairly well sucked. And yes, it's a little tough to see how it could go unrepaired as long as it did, but really what it brought to my mind is how many places there are who have this kind of problem on a regular/permanent basis. Especially poignant in light of the preview/partial screening/discussion I attended last night for Kamp Katrina.





Don't have time to go into it now, but it followed a woman named Ms. Pearl who opened her home to hurricane refugees in the 9th Ward. Check it out. There are about 70 films that should be made about Katrina and all the things surrounding it, and this looks to be an important one in it's look at people on the margins.

4th of july weekend in the cradle of american democracy

My Independence Day weekend was fantastic, if exhausting.

The thumbnails (edited from an email sent to sherin):

• anniversary party for molly & rudy in boston on the 4th; bitchen barbeque and fireworks on the hill

• spent the 5th with sue & a not-too-hungover steve, lazing about and catching up; watched the video of 'wordplay'
  
  that night went to fenway for the big blowout with sue, steve, molly, rudy and beth; good to be back in baseball's holiest cathedral - wicked awesome
  

• next day brunch with steve & beckett; MFA for edward hopper exhibition; drove to western massachusetts (much to the chagrin of the boston people) for concert/film of dutch quartet 'electra,' at MASS MoCA, and the customary beers-on-the-dock afterward

• next day breakfast with sue (williamstown sue, not to be confused with boston sue) and solo errands/wandering around williamstown/north adams while she prepared for the Ralph Stanley concert that night, followed by beers on dock, drinks at bar and nightcap at home - sheesh! Don't worry, we paced ourselves nicely.

• next day slept in (finally) a bit, then bkfst w/sue, then drove to saratoga for charlie and erin's wedding, then drove back to hoboken, giving one of the ballet folks a ride involving a long conversation about spirituality/meditation; in bed at about a quarter to 2

So let me leave you with a bumper-sticker-style reminder: Dissent is not just what makes America Great, it's what made America in the first place.

Back to the Roo(ts)

Ok, now that we've had a couple interludes in the worlds of comedy and politics, I'll get back to the matter at hand.

That being: Bonnaroo

That meaning: the Roots



Remember when I wrote that not all the acts were transcendent? Well, some of them were. And this was the act that first made possible the change from a fun weekend to something important if not life-changing for the people involved.

Jason and I had a good spot on the grass off to the left of the soundboard and back a bit. And the Roots came though with flying colors: power, passion, incredible musicianship and performance energy. Black Thought proved his mastery as an M.C.; ?uestlove was amazing on drums and percussion, at home in every rhythm; the horns were supertight and on point; guitars and keys rode the waves of hip hop, rock and funk. Everybody is a Star, and it felt that way, with live musicians in the physical universe, not a sampler in sight. The kind of show that reminds you why you love to go to shows - infectious in all the right ways.

What do we want?
Roots Crew!
When do we want it?
Right Now!

At one point Black Thought and the horns left the stage, leaving the rhythm section and Captain Kirk Douglas on guitar as the core for a mini set that took us all by the neck, shook us around, opened our eyes, cleaned the debris from the wrinkles in our brains and when they finally let go of our throats we found we could breathe better than ever.

The centerpiece of this set was a version of Dylan's Masters of War which opened to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner. Sing along now:

Where you'd start 'Oh say, can you see,' instead begin:

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs

'Whose broad stripes...'

You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

'And the rockets red glare...' now

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy

'Oh say, does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave'

You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes

And here we devote all the vocal attention anyone ever gave to the word 'free' to the word 'run'

And you turn and run
When the fast bullets fly

Hendrix had nothing on them. Ok, he did guitar-wise, but in terms of significance of interpretation and activist theatrical performance, not an inch.

Then they finished off the song with Dylan's melody, of course inserting their own musical elements.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

They did spend a little extra time on the final line of that verse. It bore repeating.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

I guess it can be effective once in a while to give vent to rage, can't it? Thanks for bearing with the long quotation.

The full Roots Crew eventually made it back to the stage and they funked up the joint like crazy. I know i'm making it sound like they are a full-out political band, but they're not. They have a political side, natch, but they don't go too far with it, and they never forget about having fun. When they finally wrapped, after the encore, I found Sherin and J.P. and started planning our next moves. J.P. stopped me and said - "Wait a minute. Dude. The Roots. Was that just incredible?!"

Yes dude. It was.

But I'm sure those folks at the Lily Allen show had a really good time too ;)

So after that last post - here's a little comic relief from Overheard in New York:

Everything but War and Straight Marriage Is Now Forbidden

Babysitter: Ok guys, hold my hand.
Six-year-old boy: Holding hands is unnatural.
Babysitter: What? Where did you hear that?
Six-year-old boy: George Bush!
Man walking ahead: Wow, he really does get blamed for everything now.


And then one for Sherin, to whom i tried to give legit directions to a place in Brooklyn:


Ennui and Apathy, Living in Perfect Harmony...

Tourist mom: Excuse me, miss, do you know how to get back to Manhattan?
Hipster girl: I'm sorry, I don't really have the energy to give you fake directions right now.

--Brooklyn-bound F train

Headline by: null

Runners-Up:
· "...Between the emphysema from the clove cigarettes and the anemia from cutting myself." - invisible girl
· "And if I give real ones, I lose my hipster certification" - AmyS
· "But for $5, I'll Pretend to Mock Your Fat Children" - Debra, the Barmaid Blog
· "I'm saving it all for defending my bitchy ass in Brooklyn" - knumb
· "When in doubt, Swim" - 6th Floor Blogger

politics and anger

It's usually not the most productive choice to give into anger. However, some of the things that come across my line of sight just provoke full-throated rage in me. Don't want to paint myself to be some sort of Billy Jack or anything, but things like what has been going on in American military prisons do make - me - go - berserk: that torture has been redefined as allowable 'cruelty;' that our intelligence agencies divert prisoners via 'extraordinary rendition' to certain foreign prisons which have even fewer restrictions on what types of interrogation are permissible and encouraged.

Guys, I know you know this, but this situation is no kind of joke - it is huge and horrid national shame.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have tremendous respect and gratitude for our soldiers, who do some fantastic work, put themselves in harm's way and have a kind of courage I'll never know. It is not the typical soldier I indict. In fact it's utterly boggling that simple soldiers have taken the heat for what's gone on in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo.

And you know what's gone on, right?

So, ok, I wrote some stuff that shows a side of me very few ever get to see. And there's a good reason for that. (That whole thing about rage not being productive.)

I've been working to discipline my thoughts lately. Not to suppress or ignore impulses that are uncomfortable, but to get into the habit of turning my mind to things that are useful, positive and somehow geared toward growth. As a character said in a book I read (and deeply appreciated) recently, "you have to choose your thoughts the way you choose the clothes you put on in the morning."

There's something to that.

So, instead of giving in to the vitriol, I refer you to Seymour Hersh's article in this week's New Yorker, which details the events at Abu Ghraib, and more importantly, the systematic hiding and diversion that went on around them; the conscious plotting on the part of people very high in the military establishment and Department of Defense (yes, including Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz) and White House (right up to the top, y'all) to encourage these methods of extracting information that are not only repulsive on a primal level and ethically abhorrent, but notoriously ineffective (which everyone knows - don't they? I mean, do these guys really believe the shit they see on TV?!)

See, it's hard to be measured about this stuff!

The article follows Major General Antonio Taguba, who comes off as a true hero - the kind of guy who inspires people to become career soldiers in the first place - given the job of investigating the abuses at Abu Ghraib, but really expected by the higher-ups to bury them. Nonetheless, he pursued his investigation with great energy, integrity, and what could be described as patriotic fervor. And then he was ostracized roundly for doing so.




And it also shows us the work of this guy:


Major General Geoffrey Miller, a former Gitmo commander who was given the job of making information-gathering more efficient at Abu Ghraib by encouraging the 'loosening up' of prisoners. And then was given the job of 'restoring order' when abuse allegations became known.

Just think it's good to have a face to go with the names of our war criminals.

Please permit me a moment to pause here to acknowledge Genarlow Wilson, the guy given a 10-year sentence for engaging at the age of 17 in consensual oral sex with a 15-year old in Georgia. Even though the Georgia legislature changed the sentencing guidelines of the law after he was sentenced, he wasn't permitted to benefit retroactively. And while a judge did recently order him released, citing the obvious miscarriage of justice (well done!), the Attorney General prosecuting the case is appealing in hopes of returning Wilson to prison for the remainder of his sentence, followed by a lifetime as a registered sex offender.

Guess my point here is that this kid who got a blow job from someone who evidently wanted to give it to him is staring down a LONG prison sentence and ruined life, while the real bad guys have their freedom securely intact.

But rather than give in to the temptation of nastiness, perhaps your time would be better spent signing this petition, brought to us by the folks at MoveOn.

Oh, and if that's not enough, you may as well check out this editorial in Salon.com, which has links to the big Washington Post series on Dick Cheney which has got so much attention in the last few days.

And let's not forget that our Supreme Court has been pretty busy the last couple days too...

Sigh.

Living on Tennessee Time

We'd set up camp on Thursday - a tent for Sherin and J.P., and one for Jason and me; loads o' camp food and a badass stove to cook it with; giganto-cooler full of beer and ice; the shade canopy we'd picked up in Nashville - key to our comfort, as it happened. This canopy did not, however, allow us to sleep in remarkably well. The Tennessee heat cranked up pretty early in the day, and S & JP particularly caught the sun's rays in the morning. But we were able to ease into the mornings with coffee filtered mug by mug, port-a-johns that started the day downright cleanly, baby wipe 'baths' followed by ye olde gold bond on the crotch (trust me, it's a good thing) and a few get-things-going beers at camp and on the dusty walk to Centeroo.

Made some 'Children of Men' and 'Grapes of Wrath' jokes on said walk - you could look at those thousands of tents as an artistic collective or a refugee camp, depending on your point of view. Either way, it is a good population to be a part of.
Paid a real quick visit to Bonna Rouge, the cabaret tent, to hear a couple numbers from the Firecracker Jazz Band, who swung us nicely into the day. Didn't stay long though, because we wanted to get a good spot for Richard Thompson, rock hero and guitar god extraordinaire, perennially underrecognized by the masses though a critical darling. Well people, I'd never had the chance to see him, and wasn't going to miss this one, in spite of having to take a pass on the Brazilian Girls and Tortoise. And holy shit, he did not disappoint!


Do you know this guy? A lot of people don't, to America's shame. Brit rocker, one of the founders of Fairport Convention, in my opinion he's one of the very best guitarists out there, with a mastery of an utterly individual mix of rock, blues and traditional music from at least 2 continents. He played new stuff, old stuff, no FC material as far as I could tell, but my knowledge of their catalogue is far from encyclopedic. Thompson's set was one of the highlights of the weekend for sure, with all the things you'd expect: tight band, great songs, RT was in fine voice and his guitar work was off the hook, natch; and the ineffable live factor was well-charged - the crowd was in tune with the music and the musicians returned the favor.

So I needed a mental break after that. We caught parts of the sets from Kings of Leon and Michael Franti & Spearhead. Both were good, especially Franti, but the combination of fatigue and awe kept me from altogether thorough attention. Which may have been for the best, in light of what happened next...

Intermezzo

Have to ask: what's going on with the Mets? I mean we're in serious WTF territory here - they've been downright bad lately. Lost 8 of the last 10, 14 of the last 18, 6 consecutive series, and haven't won 2 consecutive games since May. That's not good, people; that's not even middlin'.

Now, it's not panic time. The Mets are a good team at the core; they've got some injuries to deal with; slumps happen to everybody; the Twins are solid and could take a series against any team in the majors; ditto the Tigers and Cardinals, and a case can be made for the Phillies and even the D-backs.

But...

C'mon -

Let's go Mets!

While we're here, I may as well send a shoutout to the Bosox for beating the Braves and helping to keep the Mets in first.

As it happens, Red Sox Nation was alive and thriving in Bonnaroo. And we'll get around to that team I didn't mention in the next Bonnaroo chapter - the one dealing with The Hold Steady... Tee hee!

Bonnawrap-up

This will be the first of probably several posts on the Bonnaroo festival I went to last week with Sherin, J.P. and my brother-in-law Jason. You've seen some of the advance notice here - 4 days of music, art and camping in southern Tennessee, replete with acts that gave much cause for high hopes. Earlier today, I was asked why it's taken me so long to post about this at all, and while I could respond with the standard 'it takes time to recover, life is hard, blah blah blah,' you'd all see right through that because you know the truth: when you're a rock star of my magnitude, you end up spending a lot of time drizzling chocolate syrup on naked models and other such activities. Also, Sherin beat me to the obvious title and opening line in her 6/19 entry.

So for now, I'll just say that the Roo rocked our socks off. Seriously, you should have seen our feet; they were pretty gross by the end. It was more than worth treading around in sandals, though, and hiking the half-hour from the tent to the venue (including that huge bottleneck at the 'security' checkpoint - which was pretty comical, and seemed to be for show. They really looked for contraband the first day; by the end of which I'm guessing that the security team had confiscated enough chemical refreshment to keep the whole staff going the whole weekend, because by Friday they were pretty halfhearted about it, and by Saturday people were smuggling in whole coolers full of stuff.) There were plenty of moments that fell short of transcendent, and a couple that were really quite lame, but those moments were way outweighed by the awesome rockage of the best acts.

Diving right in, Sherin and J.P stood on line to catch Lewis Black and friends; I'd seen a full set of his before, and the line was long, so Jason and I went to "This Tent" to see The Black Angels instead. They're from Austin, which makes me happy, and took their name from the Velvet Underground's 'Black Angel Death Song.' True to this origin, they give good drone. Dark but not oppressive, their live show casts a long shadow on their (good) recordings. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this was a big theme for the weekend. Bands I already really liked got that much more of my respect when I heard and saw what they're capable of in person.

After the angels, J & I ducked over to "The Other Tent" to hear the end of the New Orleans Klezmer Allstars. They're just what their name sounds like: good fun dixieland meets Eastern European Jewish clarinet Jam. Moved on to "That Tent" (yes, I know, the venue names are like the "Who's on First?" routine. Just dreadfully clever, ain't it? :p ) to catch The National. Not much to say about them: they were fine, but I spent part of the set just chillin in the grass. Which was a-ok, because it allowed me to save my energy for Rodrigo y Gabriela who fucking rocked!!!!

[the usage of 'rock' and its variants as a modifier is already really old, I know, but sometimes it's the only word that will do...]





Mexican guitar duo, plenty flamenco, heavy metal 'tude; he has fieryfast picking skills and she whales on the git box with such percussive fervor that a couple times I caught myself scanning the stage looking for the nonexistent drummer. Maybe a teeny bit too cheerlead-y for my taste, and I don't think we needed both 'Wish You were Here' and 'Stairway.' But complaining about such details would just be perverse.

And on that note, it's back to the chocolate sauce. Another installment will follow shortly...

Art as it happens...

Saturday, among other things, I went to MoMA to see the Richard Serra exhibition. Very impressive - spread throughout three separate spaces in (and out of) the museum, one devoted to his early work, one to "Related Curves" from the '90s and one to new work. The pieces ranged from pretty big to really large-scale, and I found the best ones irresistible. Giant curves, stunning in their balance and proportion, beautiful from within and without... amazing. Lori has me thinking it might be worth getting a membership just so I can return there at will for the season.

Well, ok, probably not.

But when I compare that temptation with all the other reasons, yeah, I might sign up for MoMA. For instance, another exhibition going on was Dan Perjovschi, and it was rad too! Check out this viddy. It does no justice to the piece, but it does make me kind of wish I'd known about the event of him creating it live at the museum.

There are a few other things I'd like to write about, but things are CRAZY BUSY as we're getting ready to head out to Bonnaroo! Very scintillating... ;)

"The most important thing is work"

So I was going to write about the Bang on a Can Marathon, and I still might, but I'm kind of tired of just writing about the shit I do on weekends.

Something came to mind tonight as I was doing some networking/scheduling on email, prepping for auditions, and half watching a couple ballgames on tv: I think one of the (many) things that make for an affinity between theater actors and baseball players is the every day element of both of them. Major Leaguers play 162 games over 6 months - pretty much a 6-day week, including tons of travel (and some players do the winter-league thing too); theater actors are expected to do 8 shows a week - again, a 6-day week, sometimes on the road. Ok ok, neither task is as physically demanding perhaps as a marathon, or a football game, basketball game or ballet. But... every day, folks, for however long. And watching the players at this point in the season (early June - not even halfway through) starting to wear down, succumb to injury, just being troupers, I think of the daily dedication that is simultaneously workmanlike, common, and utterly singular and awe-inspiring; and I draw a breath in renewed admiration of people like Cal Ripken Jr. And Lou Gehrig, Ted Williams (all that hitting, plus time away from the majors to serve in TWO wars) Hank Aaron... And Eli Wallach, Laurette Taylor, Vanessa Redgrave, John Raitt... And, what the hell, Boyd Gaines.

Or then again, it might just be that within the last couple days both the Red Sox and the Mets have lost three games in a row for the first time this season...

And ok, I will break my little 'if you can't say something nice...' rule and say apropos "father of minimalism" Alvin Lucier's Canon at the Bang on a Can Marathon: it was like listening to paint dry. Yes yes yes, I understand: you have to be attentive to the microtones, and try to figure out the (glacial) rhythm - those things can keep you from literally falling asleep. But I'm sorry, people: I think the emperor may be naked. Reckon Alvin can take my dissent.

As for the rest of the Marathon - it was fantastic. One of the events that makes me really happy I live in New York.

Memorial Day Rundown

Once again, a big weekend. Here's the rundown:

Friday Night:

- Went to jackson heights to meet jon & kir's new baby boy! Had a great time with those guys and beckett, read a story to joseph and met dean for the first time.
- Jon & i went to brooklyn to check out the club WWIX will be playing in late june - wouldn't you know it's matchless, where we saw easy anthems (and creaky boards) last weekend. Jqln met us out there - always a plus.

Saturday:

- Bit of a sleep in, but not too late. Way too much to do for that.
- Went to the gym for regular/non-yoga workout for the first time in a while
- Installed air conditioner for the summer.
- Picked up tim (dear friend and colleague writing a book about the living theater) at newark airport, caught up with him over a bite at home in air-conditioned comfort
- While tim met with other colleagues, went to elysian park to read a bit.
- Into NYC for a bit of dinner theater featuring a friend.
- Up to the heights for a birthday party. Not only that, a toga party. Leslie's friend's roommate was turning 19, and togas were the order of the evening, though not everyone wore them. Moi, no sheet, but i certainly appreciated some of the toga creativity - and a polish couple there made a remarkable drink from an herbal-infused vodka called 'zubrowka' that tastes like apple pie!

Sunday:

- Brunch with tim at amanda's - yum!
- Some baseball on TV. (Remember people, every loss for the yankees is a victory for civilization.)
- Into town to meet lori at a park by the river. On my way up 9th ave. in my finest faux boston/irish catholic outfit (red sox cap, notre dame t-shirt), i stepped into a bar briefly, not for a drink, but just to watch derek jeter strike out in the bottom of the 9th with two outs, a runner on third and the yanks down by one. Tee hee!
- Good conversation with lori at the park. Watched one of those gigantic cruise ships pull out. Were all those cops and heavily-armed soldiers there because of the ship, or for fleet week?
- Changed clothes at lori's place, then met tim to see 'beyond glory.' This show was excellent - stephen lang one-man show about medal-of-honor winners. Seriously good; deserves its own entry - maybe another time.
- Cheesesteak and beer after the show, then back to the 'boken.

Monday:

- Woke up early for some inscrutable reason. The good news was that i caught a reading of howard zinn's voices from 'a people's history of the united states' with a bunch of good actors on democracy now!
- Bagels with tim, which he couldn't eat because of a visceral reaction to cornmeal (he gets really sick if he eats it.) Yet another reason i hardly ever go to the shitty bagel place across the street - who bakes bagels on a pan with cornmeal???
- Took tim back to the newark airport so he could fly back to indy.
- The day that was supposed to be all rainy turned out very nice, so, back to elysian park for some sun and reading.
- Into NYC to see adrienne shelley's 'waitress;' not necessarily the kind of movie i'd normally gravitate toward, but because of adrienne (you read all about that here - and everywhere else - last november) i could not miss it. And it was good, if unexpectedly sentimental and hollywood for such an indie gal.
- Back to hoboken for a quick shower/bite/change before heading back into town for melissa errico at birdland. Shit, she's good. So relaxed and comfortable, and what a voice. Plus beautiful, radiant, funny, charismatic - who could ever like a girl like that? Damn patrick mcenroe...
- Nightcap with leslie.

There it is.

Whew!

Bonnaroo Magic

Alright, the Bonnaroo Schedule has been posted. Leaving us all breathless. Mostly in the best way, althought there will be some scary moments on Sunday afternoon when we're rushing from stage to stage trying to catch parts of sets (or miss out on some really good stuff entirely.)

So this seemed a good occassion to do a little Magic 8pod on the way in today:

How will Bonnaroo go for our little carload o' folks?

Way Down in the Hole, Blind Boys of Alabama

Ok, this seemed scary at first, but on closer inspection I think it's singularly auspicious. We are going way down to Southern Tennessee, after all. It's a damned good song, with a great groove the way BBoA do it. Plus it goes on about how we have nothing to worry about as long as we walk with Jesus - and we're rolling with a seminarian, after all. :)

What about the drive down?

Bridge over Troubled Water, the Johnny Cash version

Again, this gives pause at first, then turns out to be great. I mean, the title's, you know, troubling. But if Johnny Cash is going to be our Bridge, we're in good shape. Sail on silver girl and all. With help from Fiona Apple and that bowed bass.

How will the camping go?

Softly as in a Morning Sunrise, Sonny Rollins

Well here there's no ambiguity. Sweet, cool, vital. Relaxed and energized at once. Distinct musicians working together to make something greater than the sum of its parts. That's what I'm talking about!

[Interestingly enough, none of these folks have anything to do with Bonnaroo, but they're all in the spirit of the event, right?]

Tacked on a question about the dayjob:

What's the deal with the dayjob?

The Man that Got Away, the Jeff Buckley version.

Hehehe.

I love it when the ipod fucks with me. What is this supposed to mean? That this job is going to slip away from me? That it might be a waste of time to stay there? This is from a live show, with Jeff singing hauntingly (natch) and a cappella. Let's not dwell, but move right along...

How are things going to go with theater/acting work in the immediate future?

On the Run, Pink Floyd

This is interesting and encouraging. Foreshadowing Autobahn, PF gives us a train on the fast track, propelled forward in all due haste and then some. It's an open question whether we're running toward something or away from something (or both) but it's worthwhile to point out that this is track number 2 on Dark Side of the Moon; that is, after the inhalation of the opening number, it launches one of the most successful albums of all time - so I'm calling it a good step forward.


And that's today's installment of Magic 8pod.

It's about damn time

Wouldn't have thought anyone would say it on MSNBC, but keith olbermann gave an amazing editorial about the bush military budget and the democrats caving to it in spite of a clear mandate to REALLY support the troops by ending the asinine war.

Watch the video if you can, because it includes some verbiage missing from the transcript, including the edward r. murrow tag, 'good night and good luck,' delivered with a sneer that expresses all his (our) disgust with the government, and contains a challenge to us to hold our representatives accountable for their 'compromises.'

I'm impressed, keith. And it's not often i say that about someone sitting in a chair like yours.

Full Weekend

This was a busy, action-packed weekend. Maybe not as relaxing as some weekends in recent-ish memory, but i'm not complaining. Had a good time, and got some stuff done.

Friday: after work, met with marianne, lisa, amye, dan and rashmi at a bar for some happy hour action and catch-up conversation. After which i walked with rashmi to meet some of her friends at a bar by madison square, then we rolled down to soho - they had a fancy dinner at l'ecole; i caught the end of leah siegel's show over at rockwood music hall on allen st. - v/good, as always (though that room is too fucking small!) Then i subwayed up to morningside heights for katie's housewarming party - which was very fine indeed. The apartment is great, the guests were fun (j.p. and sherin were there) the food was remarkable (especially a mushroom pate that was really mouthwatering, and a plate of brownies made with hot pepper that snuck up on you in a slow-burning, extremely delicious way) and of course the hostess (and hosts!) were scintillating.

Saturday i finally went to see 'journey's end' in the afternoon; not my favorite time of day to see straight plays, but it was damned good. Go see it before it closes next month. But be warned - it kicks you in the gut. Mary jo made the mistake of traveling by cab on the day of the big dance parade on 5th ave, and barely made it to the belasco on time.

After the show i literally had to RUN to an audition on 8th ave. - set my phone to vibrate at me at 4:35, stuck around until the curtain started lowering at 4:38 then hightailed it to 36th and 8th for a 4:55 audition. Not something i recommend, but i made it. I found later that i missed out on an unusually moving curtain call. Small price to pay. Then i walked down to chelsea as it started to rain to meet up with mj again. She was going to introduce me to bikram yoga, but the rain and the aftermath of the show swayed us to chill at her place instead. Then sherin came into town and we had some italian food before heading out to williamsburg to see the band easy anthems at matchless. They were really good (as was the pseudo-80s power pop/art rock band before them, whose name i can't remember, to my shame) and we were joined by terry, jackee and j.p. That part of town is SOOOOOOoooo hipper-than-thou, but they do have some fun stuff going on.

Sunday i slept in a bit, then did laundry and grabbed some bagels and lox. Mmmmm... bagels and lox... Read part of the paper, checked out email and such, listened to the 'new' elliott smith: called 'new moon' it's a compilation of outtakes and alternate versions, which description does not do anything like justice to what an amazing record this is. One of the most important songwriters of his generation; we all miss him muchly.

Then rashmi came out and we played a set of tennis, then cleaned up and went into town for the grand unveiling of happy sunshine kung fu flower, which rocked the house. Good, forceful, funny satire nicely done to a packed house in a club setting - in your face and below your belt all at once. Glad to have been involved in an earlier incarnation, aim to return to the ninja fold when the union sitch gets worked out. But for now, they are going strong and a swell time was had by all (though there were some rumblings about the offensiveness factor, i don't know how one could do a show like this without some of that.) My main complaint was that after we used up our comp drink, the featured beer cost 9 bucks. Ouch.

So, yeah, full weekend.

more music more music more music

A few musical tidbits popped into my coffee-soaked morning in a way that seemed simultaneously random and oddly connected, so i thought i'd put them out here. Mix of alternative and way out there alternative stuff:

The good people at wfmu had paul collins (no relation to genesis drummer 'highest highs and lowest lows' phil) from the great underknown power pop band the nerves on their show this morning. Played some nerves tunes, a couple from his (slightly) more well known band the beat. Did not play any of nerve bandmate peter case's (considerably) more well known the plimsouls, at least not while i was listening. Just one of those bands that made good fun rocks in a time that was slightly out of joint - but only just slightly: everybody knows blondie's cover of the nerves closest thing to a 'hit' hanging on the telephone, which has hopefully kept those guys in diamonds and pearls all these years...

While collins was telling stories on the radio, i was reading magnet, which tends to be a pretty good source of indie rock news and reviews, and came across a not-bad sidebar on jazz titan/duke ellington partner billy strayhorn, particularly the new documentary 'lush life' that pbs put out, and the star-studded tribute soundtrack that was released recently. Such a great musician, such a great story, inevitably overshadowed by the duke but still a giant. The article referred to him as a triple threat (composer/arranger/lyricist) and i'd add that his piano skills put him into quadruple-threat territory (have you heard this great moment in the 'duke ellington meets count basie' disc where duke is conducting 'take the a train' and count basie has gone into hiding, not daring to play duke's theme song? Pretty funny, and there's billy covering the ivories - not that much of a challenge i suppose, since he wrote the song.) It continually boggles my mind that he wrote 'lush life' when he was 19 years old.

And, in the realm of the random, i ran across a great line in a review for the new bjork cd in the onion on the train yesterday: "Whatever Bjork was going for, it couldn't have been to sound like bad outtakes from Fleetwood Mac's 'Tusk'" Which, in my case, made me want to hear the cd even more. :) (The review was basically a favorable one, btw.)

Also ran into a sidebar on bunny rabbit, whom i had the good fortune to catch at tonic before it, sadly, lamentably, tragically closed recently.

Gotta run to 'journey's end,' then an audition, then 'easy anthems' tonight in brooklyn.

Ok, extra credit for you if you know where i picked up the title for today's entry (hint: think the who)

The Met and the Mets

Went to the Metropolitan Opera last week to see Puccini's Il Trittico. Three one-act operas tucked into one tidy evening (well, if almost 4 hours worth of opera + intermissions can be called tidy.) Stunning and spectacular and all that stuff. Far from perfect, but definitely a good night out. The biggest production at the Met this year, and if you've ever been there, you know that that's downright impressive. Three completely different, gigantic sets - even if, as my friend said - and everyone was thinking, one of them did bring to mind The Sound of Music. ;)

Worth mentioning: Barbara Frittoli, the main soprano in Suor Angelica, the second of the night's three operas, has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard. At least, she was fantastic last Thursday. We were sitting waaaaaaay up in the back of the top balcony, and when she opened her mouth the first time, my head just snapped toward her. Incredible, seemingly effortless singing poured out of her and filled that huge hall with some pretty glorious music.

Which doesn't mean that Suor Angelica isn't still a pretty cheesy story.

Gianni Schicchi was tremendously fun. Funnier than maybe any opera I remember seeing/hearing. Have to get back there, maybe before the final week of the season next year...

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Caught the Mets again last night at Shea, getting beat up by the Cubs this time. I have enough fondness for the Cubs that I appreciated seeing Aramis Ramirez's grand slam in person (and not SO much fondness for the Mets that I couldn't let myself enjoy it. Plus, Shawn Green gave us a four-bagger for the Mets' lonely run, so that was fun too) Tonight they had a big rain delay. Flipped channels a while ago and was surprised to see the game going on after all. It's almost midnight and they're just in the 6th inning. Sorry guys, not gonna stay up for this one...

BE

Last night jackee and i went to see BE, by Mayumana, at the union square theatre. It's a movement piece - dance/percussion/clowning/music. Virtually no dialogue (though there were a few words of english, and some limited speaking/singing in other languages.) Superbly compelling, very high wow factor. It's a multi-cultural/multi-disciplinary company, which sounds like it's just latching on to some buzz words du jour, but in this case it's the real thing: performers from israel, mallorca, mainland spain, ivory coast, switzerland and probably other places i didn't catch, with training in gymnastics, music, acting, art, drumming, music and a bunch of different kinds of dance. Great combination of elements that were so simple they make you think you could do it yourself (and inspire you to try) with feats so difficult and demanding they make you wonder how one company can incorporate so many skills.

It's gotten some flak for being too much like things like 'stomp' and 'drumstruck' (neither of which did i see, though i've seen extensive video of 'stomp') and for lacking 'content.'

To which i respond: pshaw!

The shit is fun! Really exciting and enjoyable, BE is singular in its cross-generational/cultural appeal, with elements of old-school clowning (difficulty with objects, anyone?) hip hop rhythms (including some pretty damn good beat boxing) first rate performance and technical work on every level, audience-friendly audience participation (never has an audience member's rhythmlessness been mocked so funnily and kindly at once) and very immediate and alive. There are some segments that feel like filler, but what they are filling in is so extraordinary one is inclined to forgive the need to make a perhaps imperfect transition.

The ticket price is high, but discounts are available everywhere you turn. I dare you not to enjoy yourself. Not everything has to be hamlet.

It's Giuliani Time

Ah yes, our beloved former mayor was in the news a bit last week, as he spent some time in New Hampshire working on the foundation of his candidacy. Not a bad idea: the early-primary Granite State is an important place to campaign. But then he goes ahead and says things like this:

"If a Democrat is elected president in 2008, America will be at risk for another terrorist attack on the scale of Sept. 11, 2001… Never ever again will this country ever be on defense waiting for (terrorists) to attack us if I have anything to say about it. And make no mistake, the Democrats want to put us back on defense!"

Oh Rudy, you're cracking me up! The only thing you left out was a shot about the whiff of pot and patchouli pouring out of their elitist Ivy League Mansions as those dirty peaceniks invite the terrorists in to plot America's downfall.

I think he may as well go straight to Orwell to find the phrase that expresses the Truth that every Republican Presidential Candidate seems to know:

'War is Peace.'

But you gotta hand it to the guy, don't you? Balls like that are hard to come by. It's interesting to me - he clearly was in a provocative mood, and the Dems definitely took the bait. The Democratic Party has been circulating petitions to get him to back off. And Clinton, Edwards and Obama all voiced objections. Mission accomplished for the Rude Man. On Sean Hannity's radio show, he said, "I was trying for a home run but I think I got at least a triple, meaning I have got the three leading Democratic candidates attacking me."

Ooooh - attacking! That's what's going on. Because what Giuliani was doing when he said that stuff about the Democrats sitting back and waiting for the planes to fly into their living rooms, well, that was just being friendly.

And speaking of our 'beloved' former mayor, perhaps this is a good moment to recall that on September 10, 2001, New Yorkers were ready to throw Giulani out on his ass.

Tennessee Thunder

That being the name of the band that played with Ricky Skaggs and Bruce Hornsby monday night. Fantastic bluegrass show at the concert hall in the ethical culture society building on central park west. Super ensemble, very tight in spite of what they claimed was an under-rehearsed situation. Front men were great too: skaggs probably best known for his pop country stuff and hornsby for his singer/songwriter career (you know that 'jacob's ladder' song whether you realize it or not - step by step, one by one.) But they represented the roots on monday. Ricky on vocals, mandolin, guitar and an old banjo that gave him some tuning problems that he was able to turn into good stage time; Bruce on vox and piano (not much of a bluegrass instrument, he's the first to admit, but damned if he didn't work it.)

The seats are essentially church pews, which is far from ideal, and i was crazy tired, which isn't the best for deep listening, but it was a really good show! Traditional tunes, songs written for this group, reworkings of their back catalog, classics from the stanley brothers, bill monroe, folks like that. And for a bitchen encore, a bluegrass rendition of rick james' superfreak! Yes they did.

As they say in texas, it was a hoot.

Family Health

My poor little niece annie has been ill for the last week or so. It's nothing serious, but she has only had formula, no solid food at all, and is just kind of down in the dumps. Check out this photo:



So beautiful, and kind of breaks your heart just a little. How 'bout that tongue hanging out thing?

Get well soon, kiddo. I've got your photo hanging above the desk at my dayjob.

Oh, and speaking of that... my dad passed a kidney stone last week. Ouch. I mean OOOOOOUUUUCCCCCHHH!!!!!!!! Seriously. And then, as sometimes happens to men about 60, he developed shingles. Yup, he sure did. Guess it's one of those things that can happen if you've ever had chicken pox. The virus can just pop up, especially in times of stress. Like the stress of, say, passing a kidney stone. Not contagious, unless you've never had chicken pox or been immunized against them. Which means he can't go near annie :(
And i bet she could use her grandpa about now (though she might be a little freaked out by his shingleface.)

Why i'm just finding out about this today is another question...

And back to the subject of dayjobs - remember that law firm that fired me three days before christmas, as i was wrapping up 'xmas carol' in virginia, right before i was supposed to go back to work? Guess who emailed to ask if i want to temp for the president of the company for a couple weeks next month?

Dickwads.

baseball and politics

So we're thinking this may be alberto gonzales' last week or so, right? Listening to some of the testimony (and the questions from senators on both sides of the aisle) i had to think a little of rats fleeing a sinking ship.

Went to shea stadium with katie on saturday - beautiful day, good game, mets won (it seems i am gradually becoming a part-time mets fan, which feels odd but not unpleasant.) Oliver perez pitched a really good game, which made everybody happy: didn't realize it at the time, but at one point he pitched 20 consecutive strikes. Damned impressive, that.

I found this compilation of the international press reactions to the virginia tech tragedy (courtesy salon.com) to be really interesting. This event has caused me to have a number of discussions about gun laws, gun culture and the second amendment. My own feelings and opinions about the second amendment have sometimes been pretty complicated, a la "why should i be so fervent in my defense of free speech but not in defense of the right to bear arms?" A pretty easy answer to which might come along the lines of "sticks and stones and automatic weapons..." The bottom line of my thinking right now is that it's just really hard to justify how many guns there are in this country, how easy it is to come by them, and how often they are used (about 30 gun deaths per day .) And this may all be facile, but i think this conversation needs to turn up a notch, and why not now?

Red sox swept the yankees - excellent news. Four home runs in a row last night: unbelievable! Sherin had stepped out of the room and thought we were all fucking with her when we started cheering again! Hardly ever happens; first time in red sox history. What can i say? Way cool.

ink falling sideways

There's much to comment on this week, but i'm just too wiped out at the moment.

For now, i think this is an interesting viddy:






irregular flow on Vimeo


And tomorrow is shea stadium!

Monday, and how

Feeling depressed and trying to fight it off. Has to do with this ridiculous weather, surely (rainy, pissy, windy, cold, gray) and tax annoyance (blah.)

A combination of other elements may also be contributing to the malaise, but may also lead to its relief: Last night I finished reading A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest Gaines, and it wrecked me. So simple, so powerful, so poignant - a tale of a teacher who spends time with a man unjustly condemned to the electric chair (as if anyone is ever justly condemned to die; but this guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time) in Louisiana in the late 1940s. It's a racist world, in which the defense attorney painted a picture of the black defendant as an unthinking 'hog' in a wild effort to get an aquittal from the all-white jury. But of course that portrait is a brutal blow to the prisoner and his family, who call on the teacher to help him regain his humanity before the fateful day.

The book includes a scene where men in a bar are recounting hero-stories about Jackie Robinson, so it felt like one of those inexplicable confluences that I just happened to finish the book on Jackie Robinson Day, the 60th anniversary of his first game. If you don't know who Jackie Robinson is, well that's a Problem With America, which was part of the point of the day. He was the first African American Major League Baseball player, one of the all-time greats of any color, and a hero by pretty much any definition worth considering. Since he played for the Brooklyn Dodgers, last night's Dodger/Padres game was a huge celebration of the event (and every game that wasn't rained out commemorated him to some degree.) I missed the pre-game stuff (a Brooklyn gospel choir singing 'O Happy Day' and Jennifer Hudson singing the National Anthem, which people were saying were amazing - they're probably out there on YouTube, but I haven't tracked them down) but I caught most of the game. All the Dodgers wore Robinson's number 42 on their uniforms, as did a handful of people throughout the league. And it was really amazing to hear Jackie's widow Rachel - who always calls him 'Jack;' She says "Jackie was his stage name" :) - and the other luminaries. Henry Aaron and Frank Robinson were there talking about race and history and BASEBALL (damn, they love the game) and it was inspiring on so many levels while also a reminder of what is still missing from our culture.

Which made for a one-two punch in combination with the novel. I've spent a good chunk of my activist life opposing the death penalty, which continues to be insanely racist (like much of the 'criminal justice' system.) And in that light, it's important to remember that there is good work to do on so many levels, and that creative work can be a vital part of that.

Even when the weather sucks.

Happy Passoveaster

And Happy Birthday to all those Arieses out there: Richard, Susan, Becky, Beth, Jason, Marianne, the whole kid and caboodle of ya.

I hear tell there's going to be a Ten Commandments party on the west side. So let it be written; so let it be done.

Had some folks out for Easter Dinner yesterday - chicken soup with avgolemona sauce, leg o' lamb, spinach noodle casserol, roast potatoes with olives & capers, braised string beans. Props to sherin for "Loly's" casserole, and all the other help she gave. Props also to j.p. for the lamb spice rub/searage, and to lori for the chocolate cake. And the peeps.

For your amusement (and especially for those who have at some point appreciated my 'angina monologue'), this from today's overheard in new york:

My Plan Is to OD and Then Have to Miss It

Chick #1: Yeah, I was hoping to get all these painkillers by Thursday because I have to go home to see my mom in a play.

Chick #2: Can't you just get them when you get back?

Chick #1: Yeah, no... My mother is starring in The Vagina Monologues.

Chick #2: Ouch.

Chick #1: See, that was my first thought.

--Goodbye Blue Monday, Bushwick

Dylan in Europe

From the dylan rumor mill...

His european tour started the other day, and apparently he's pulled out the electric guitar again (having been keeping himself to the electric piano for the last couple years).

So that's exciting. You know, if you get excited about that kind of thing.

rainy day and hipster haiku

Technical rehearsal last night. Stressful and time-consuming, as usual. Those of you who have ever worked on some form of comedy are familiar with that point in rehearsal when nothing seems funny anymore, even though you were laughing about it last week. Yeah, welcome to that. Plus, everyone is sick. And grouchy.

Hey, it's tech.

Oh, here's the new york times listing of the show.


And, to celebrate today's raininess, and yesterday's trip to h&m and the american eagle store in a failed attempt to pick up some basic black jeans, here's a hipster haiku:

Surfers in New York
Your spring gear reeks of Cali -
Where's the fucking beach?

reblog

As i (mis?)understand it, a proper reblog is actually automatic: a way to edit and curate content from other blogs/sites. Well, this ain't that. I just wanted to draw your attention to a few things out there on the interweb:

Firstly, jqln has a brilliant link to the hip hop stylings of mc rove. Plus, she needs your support for her lemonade and molasses fast.

Then, there's the online version of juxtapoz, which is a rad and accessible art/culture mag.

And finally, to celebrate my current temp post as glorified envelope stuffer for the fashion industry, here's go fug yourself, which is a funny and catty look at celebrity fashion missteps.

Happy monday.

I heart new york

It really is the bitchenest city out there, isn't it? Love love love it when spring opens the door to walking from one side of town to the other as much as your legs can stand it.

So just a few of the things i've done round nyc the last few days & nights:

Lunch at lazzara's with jessica, gave her a 'factory girl' music mix i'm pretty proud of - had been way too long since i'd seen her, and that pizza is nigh supernatural.

Sherin shot j.p. and me in an audition video at my place. Fun working on it - thanks so much for the help guys!

Afterwards, we went to see quantum eye, a mentalism/magic show at that was pretty good, then went out for a pint in flatiron.

Last night saw the new mira nair film the namesake with beth at the paris. Really good. Sentimental, in that jhumpa lahiri way, but beautiful, compelling and authentically moving. Then we met abner at guantanamera, a cuban bar on 8th ave. that is exquisitely cheesy, just in time to catch the end of the band's set.

Abner brought along the belated christmas present he and beth got for me - the solti/vienna recording of wagner's ring cycle on vinyl! They nabbed it from a street vendor in the village, so i assumed it would be at least a little scratched up, but it is in amazing, almost immaculate condition and sounds unbelievably good. Alright, alright, i know it makes me a complete and utter geek to be so excited about this, but, well, there it is. Way cool present. And while we're on it, congrats to beth and abner on taking the live-together plunge!

And throughout all of this of course, i've been rehearsing 'trailers/suburban peepshow' opening at the red room on thursday. Fun group o' peeps; hope to see you there.

Ok, just heard this thing on ESPN that i have to share: "L.A. hasn't seen a threepeat since 2002, when the lakers won three consecutive championships... in a row!" Yup. That's right folks, these are professional journalists.

Happy april fools, and happy baseball opening day!

Art, Life and Magic 8 Pod

My niece drew me a picture when i was in phoenix: an extended family of flamingos, with a monkey swinging nearby; also a few spiders hanging from... the ceiling? an unseen branch just beyond the edge of the page? some other possibility open to the interpretation of the viewer? It now hangs proudly on my wall, right above the button that buzzes people in the front door of my building.

Sleep deprivation makes for a waking dream state, focus alternately intensified and blurred. Kind of like riding orson welles' tricycle through molasses then suddenly looking down and realizing you're waterskiing and you're not sure you know how to waterski but at this point you don't have much of a choice.

So, magic 8 pod - what's the next step in my career?

Jump Monk by Charles Mingus.

Ok, lots of ambiguity and room for interpretation. Very swingin', really good tune & fantastic band, natch. So i've got that going for me. Which is nice. No words to help us out but the title - a reference to thelonious, of course, one of the best jazz composers/performers of all. Unless it's trying to tell me to go monastic. Or just jump. In an ecstatic, stylin' sort of way, of course

Gutenberg: The Musical

In amongst a busy day of unpleasant auditioning, helping beth take some stuff to the salvation army, having lunch, running errands, and coming home to brutal and unexpected audition rejection, i had the pleasure of seeing gutenberg: the musical with some friends. Astounding. Hilarious. Shockingly good, if you like musicals or (especially?) if you don't.

Now off to a caffeine-fueled rehearsal...

Home again home again

Back from my weekend in phoenix for mom's surprise party - a swell time was had by all. It was odd, however, that my trip to the great saguaro desert was marred by... rain? It's true: phoenix had a much-needed three-day, on-and-off thunderstorm that coincided with my trip by a simple twist of fate. We were able to make very good use of the breaks in the weather though: it cleared up enough for: a great walk through the desert with mom (who was surprised, btw, and had i think a great time) & dad and mom's sisters (there were not one but two rusted and bullet-ridden VW chassis out there!); another walk out among the cacti to shoot bb guns at stray beer bottles with my nephew (9 years old and he's a good shot!); a football game with dad, my niece and nephew; and then more playing (and swordfighting!) with the kids and one of my grad school colleagues and his wife and their kids.

Big shoutout to my sister lori! She did a great job putting together mom's party and handling the whole weekend. Really really REALLY proud of her and happy for her.

In case you're wondering, maybe don't watch borat with your folks.

Do, though, read CASH - the autobiography of johnny cash. Good book, people. Hey, i'm not a big country music fan by any stretch of the imagination, but the man in black made some great music, and had great stories to tell.

And for the love of god see the movie citizen ruth! This flick got a bunch of attention when it came out something like 10 years ago, but for some reason hasn't stayed on the radar much. I just got around to watching it on the flights to AZ and back, and it's so worth watching. Great take on media manipulation in activism, with a focus on the abortion rights debate (sometimes pronounced 'focus on the family.')

And btw - librarians are hiding something...

Trailers

We've been rehearsing 'trailers' at somebody's apartment in astoria. Which is annoying enough, because it takes me a long time to get home afterward (not that i have any other complaints about that area where a bunch of my friends live). But something i didn't realize would annoy me so much is that almost everybody there smokes.

Now, i'm not really an anti-smoker. I used to smoke and enjoy it, and up till very recently i'd succumb to temptation from time to time. And at first i thought it was kind of retro/cool; you know, like the days when people could smoke at rehearsals (and almost everywhere). But when i came home with my clothes smelling like they used to smell when people could smoke in bars (it's still odd to me that people can't smoke in any bars at all), i grew less amused. Then when my jacket, hat and scarf still smelled like an ashtray the next morning on my way to work, i got a little pissed off. And now i've got a cold - not caused by the smoke, of course, but it may have helped it along - and i'm heading to arizona tomorrow for my mom's surprise 60th birthday party [she better not have tracked down this blog, or there goes the surprise] and whatever charm there was in that smoky place has been pretty well wiped away.

Just kvetching.

Erin Go Bragh

Saturday was of course st. patrick's day (the real one, not the hoboken version) and so people rever for ireland's patron saint and the author of confessions by going to mass and showing quiet devotion.

What? That's not what people do? It involves drinking? And mardi gras beads (in the middle of lent)? And hooters?

Anyway, my st. pat's was very VERY full, but not terribly drunken (although that winds up being relative, doesn't it?)

I met sherin at a coffee shop so we could travel to the bronx together to catch her friend katie in lover to lover a staging of a james joyce song cycle with original music and some additional text by alfred heller. In the spirit of the day, we did irish up our coffees a bit for the train ride up. The show was good - some of the actor/singers were good, some less so, but i am happy to say that miss katie zaffrann was first rate. Beautiful voice, full and honest acting (under less than ideal circumstances), really excellent use of dynamics - true to the text, pure and ALIVE. You have no idea how good it feels to be able to say this honestly about a friend, especially one you just met.

Afterwards, we went out to dinosaur in harlem for barbeque and beer. SOoooo good - i love that place! Then we went to katie and heidi's place for one last beer and a fantastic dessert she made called guinness chocolate pudding - DARK chocolate mixed with guinness stout (one of ireland's gifts to the world, as stated by the creator of the recipe) to make pudding, and topped with a layer of whipped cream (also with just a touch of guinness) and served in a glass, it looks just like a pint pulled from the tap. And, oh yeah, DE-FUCKING-LICIOUS!

Stayed later than the bus would get me home, so i subwayed downtown with sherin (including just one more wee nip of the jameson) then pathed it back; then as i was waiting on line for a cab, who should i see but the delightful maria and some of her friends. She was, how did she put it...? 'drunkididrunk INTOXICATED,' but handled it quite well, i must say. Quite a treat to see her at the end of that loooong evening out.

So there that is.

Missing Mambo

Well, i ended up not heading to williamsburg last night for jackee's party, which i'm pretty sad about, especially after emailing a couple friends about how i wasn't going to let the weather hold me back, and how lame i thought my partypartner was for bowing out due to something as petty as driving wind and hail biting into your face. I was all ready: dressed up in my new shirt, flat front slacks, houndstooth jacket, gene kelly tie and freshly shaved head (the oxblood shoes weren't going to make the trip in any case), and looking, well, i suppose about as good as i ever get to look. Then i got a call from a friend who wanted me to join her and her roomie for dinner right out here in the 'boken. I declined at first, figuring i'd just nosh at home then get out to billyburg, but then i thought - hey, why not trade in the cancelled dinner out for a different one, and ended up joining them. And as i was leaving my apartment, i got a call from jackee saying it was really bad out and maybe i shouldn't come after all. I was like, 'no, you're having a party, i want to go.' And she was like, 'really? You want to cross two rivers and trudge through the tundra?' So we left it that i'd check in after dinner and see how things were going.

Dinner, by the way was fantastic - met at zafra with caroline and nicole, whom i'd met at their housewarming party last weekend. Hadn't been to zafra before, and it was great: a cuban place with excellent food, pretty good service and a fab atmosphere. We had a potato appetizer with an incredible sauce; a main dish of roast pork -perfect: some of the best i've ever had - and one of spicy chicken skewers and sweet potato that was also very nice; and side dishes of kale and fried plantain. It's a BYO place (which i love) so we had some pinot grigio that we brought along, and skipped dessert (as even with only two main dishes, it was enough food for there to be takehome leftovers). I'll SOOOOO be going back there; let me know if you want to make the trip.

Anyway, as we finished up and stepped back out, the hail was as bad as ever and there was a surprising amount of accumulation. The gals had talked me into watching a movie with them, so i called jqln to let her know when we got back to their place. Of course, the party was rockin'. D'oh! But at this point, it just wasn't going to happen - it was already 10:30, i was a half mile from the train station, the train ride(s) would take a minimum of a half hour, and then another half mile walk through the snow to get to her crib. Still, i felt lame as hell about missing it.

On the other hand, it was great hanging with nicole and caroline. They're very cool, have a great place (ah, the 'boken), and we finished off the magnum of pinot and watched 'half nelson.' Which was great; one of those movies that fuck your shit up.

In one scene, a character puts on the 'free to be you and me' lp and plays it's alright to cry, sung by rosey grier. I giggled a bit, and caroline said "what is that song?" She'd never heard it, or heard of 'free to be...' And why should she have, i suppose, that film being a total product of the height of women's lib circa 1973? It was a part of the childhood of a lot of people i know, though, of a bunch of age groups: i've met people in their early 20s who appear to know every word, and people older than that who've never heard of it.

Anyway, for your viewing pleasure, check out rosey.

The Attic

Last night i saw the attic, by yoji sakate, produced by the play company. It's about a hikikomori, which is a phenomenon of people, mainly teenage boys, almost exclusively in japan, locking themselves into a room for long periods of time (we're talking about years in some cases) and shutting out the outside world. It's become, not exactly popular, but somewhat widespread in the last several years.

This play's take on it explores the idea of artisans creating small attic-like structures which are sold for the purpose of self-sequestering, and what happens as a result of that, socially and individually. In that vein, the set mostly consisted of said 'attic,' a skewed room with several doors (and of course the invisible 'fourth wall') tucked into the middle of the stage, giving a great sense of the cramped and claustrophobic. The production was great - really great technically. The sets, lighting and (imho) especially sound were expertly designed and executed, and the acting was really good too. (I didn't even realize i knew one of the guys in the cast - he looked familiar, but it wasn't until i got a message from a friend that i remembered where i'd met him.)

The real star though is the script - it's being billed as the english language premier (although i'm almost sure i read about it being done in australia, and i'm thinking that was probably in english). It sort of felt like it was trailing off in the end (and i can't quite figure out why) but mostly it was fascinating - surprising and poignant and funny and engaging. Quite consciously japanese, in a way that plays with the ideas of otherness and belonging (and especially isolation.) (Hilarious scene where characters are re-imagined as movie samurai!)

First rate piece of work. Go see it.

Grandpa

Ok, i've been putting this off - partly because my scanner isn't working and i would prefer to be able to include photos of him, but mostly because it's just hard writing any kind of reflections on someone so emotionally close.

My grandfather, Robert John Hilgers, was born on october 10, 1917. We always had mucho fun in our house in early october, as my dad's birthday is the 5th, mine's the 7th and grandpa's is the 10th - cake and ice cream everywhere! (and no small amount of beer - this was a german household, after all.) He finally succumbed to cancer, after a 15-year struggle, on march 3 (which, as chance would have it, is my nephew's - his great-grandson's - birthday).

When he was young he played violin. He adored his wife. He loved his family, and he was universally beloved. I can't think of, can't really even conceive of, anyone who knew him and didn't like him. This subject came up with the family last week, and the only thing anyone could come up with was "well, maybe one of the electricians who worked for him." Even then, it wouldn't have been dislike as much as resentment at not being allowed to be lazy. Grandpa was seldom in management - union man all the way - but he would be a foreman, supervisor, master electrician on the job, that kind of thing. And he was seriously old school, the way only a german can be - he was known to send apprentices back to the hall for sitting down on the job. But even taking them into account, imaginary though they may be, i don't know of anyone with a higher approval rating.

Everyone who knew him would talk about baseball. He was a very serious, and seriously good, player; and then a lifelong fan. He played semipro ball and had the singular distinction (for those of you who know your baseball history) of having gotten hits off dizzy dean (!) and satchel paige (!!) And it's kind of funny to hear the people who saw him play talk about him - reverence, really, on a bunch of levels: his ability first and foremost, but then things like how much he hustled, how he liked his beer but hated drunken behavior, and how he would walk away when the conversation turned coarse.

And the thing about him i'll keep with me forever - the twinkle in his eye. Unmistakable, folks. So openly emotional (at least in joy - not always so much in sorrow), so loving of his family. See, here's where pictures would come in handy. Not that they could ever really do him justice, but the do give an idea of the radiance of his smile. Those of you who have noticed the, um, unrestrained nature of my smile when it really turns on, well, guess where that came from...

One last thing - and i'm skipping so much, but hey, i don't want to bore you - that my uncle said in his very moving eulogy at the funeral mass (grandpa was a devout catholic his whole life). When one of his caretakers saw him looking thoughtful in february (he lived with my aunt and uncle up till the end, but they needed some help taking care of him the last couple years) she asked, as she often did, what was on his mind. And this old electrician gave a reply from the heart of his solid, simple wisdom: "When they flip the switch upstairs, then it will be dark."

the west wing wears prada

I have a moment of calm before the storm that will happen when my current tempjob bos finishes the meeting he's in. At that point, while he does six other things, my job will be to make sure he:

-calls an important client about action to be taken (this has been a high priority for a week and a half, and "must" happen before the end of this week)

-calls the CEO's assistant to address a corporate issue

-calls his daughter; no kidding, this happens most days

-gives me information so i can book a flight for one of his associates (i don't know who it is or where s/he's going - all i know is that he told me to remind him about this, and i really hope it doesn't need to happen by the end of business today)

-tries to fit in some of the mere employees of this firm, who nonetheless have questions that only he can answer

-clears up whether the meeting he asked me to schedule for monday really needs to happen, or whether the meeting set up for tuesday on the same topic with the same participants will do the trick

-responds to a number of emails (by which i mean address the questions in my presence; i'll do the actual responding, of course)

And of course, i'll be answering three phone lines while all this is happening.

Picasso in Montclair

Ok, i'm exhausted and invigorated at the same time. Partly that's because i just got back from the gym and am having a smoothie, and partly because after a long and exhausting week, The Picasso Project finally opened last night at luna stage. I'll admit i was kind of scared about it (in fact, one of the reasons i participated was because i was scared), but at this point i'm kind of proud of it. If you're in the mood for an experimental, movement-heavy, highly visual, free-associative theatrical experience, you should come check it out. Does it qualify as 'fine art'? I don't know, and i don't think it's my place to say (that's what critics and connoisseurs are for). But i do think it's a case of attempted fine art, and there's something to be said for that.

I've had my problems with it, natch. Yana's use of time is inscrutable to me (i.e., when she chooses to work on what, and the amount of time she chooses to spend on it), but she clearly knows what she's doing. And she's far from the first director whose process i didn't really understand, and i'm sure she won't be the last. Great to be working with her after all this time. In fact, everyone's involvement has been great, and there's some first-rate work going on, from people with backgrounds in dance, music, circus, acrobatics, music and visual art.

So there you have it.

Meanwhile

Um, right then while i was typing i just got a call that my grandfather has died.

Shit.

I've gotta go.