Stacey Kent At Birdland

There are some singers who excel at communicating story through song.  The inner life of the singer is awake in their eyes, each tiny gesture, they are empowered with the ability to move an audience through communicating this intangible feeling.  Their voices are also beautiful, but when it comes to technique, they tend to sacrifice perfect musicality for the emotion.  Then there are your Audra's, your Barbra Streisands-  those who sound beautiful, flawless tone, and yet... there's a studied quality, something a little removed.

I've always preferred the former to the latter.  Give me an actress with a gorgeous voice who rely puts her heart on the line.  It's that bravery, that emoting and sharing that really gets me.  Bernadette Peters, Patti Lupone, Sara Vaughn...

Stacey Kent is a rare singer who does both.  Her technique is flawless, and the interpretation as dictated by the notes and instructions in the sheet music, coupled with what the accompaniment is doing, really informs and feeds her performance.  She's always there in the moment of the music, and alive in the story that the song is telling.  Garland was much the same way, although she preserved her instrument less well, sacrificing her voice in order to give all she had.  Save nothing, at times seemed to be her motto.

Kent is not a belter.  She has a kittenish, caressing quality to her sound that resonates with another era, and this quality is perfectly illustrated in songs like Violets for My Furs, You're Looking At Me, and I've Got A Crush On You from her cd Dreamsville.  She is playful, open, and lyrical.  She is like a little Jazz Pixie, whole and healing through song.  I've felt this even through her recordings, and until last night had never had the chance to see her live.  Thank God for New York, because if your eyes and ears are open, your musical inspirations will be passing through at some point and you will get to take part in their brilliance.  And I do think Stacey Kent is brilliant.  

Last night as I watched her (from the front table at Birdland) I was just awash in her voice, in the skill of the musicians around her, and in their calm and confident presence.  I could have sat and listened for hours.  And it's strange, but after seeing her live... I'm not ready to go back to the recordings, as great as they are.  I just want to keep hold of that moment a little longer when artist and audience were in the same room, fed off of each other, making a unique moment.  Forgive the waxing rhapsodic, but it's wonderful when someone you know in a limited capacity exceeds your expectations when you experience the complete artist.

If you aren't familiar with Stacey, I have two CDs I recommend.  First, there is Dreamsville, which I mentioned prior, second is the Grammy nominated Breakfast On The Morning Tram which strays from the standards a bit to focus on collaborations with Kent's producer and saxophonist and composer Jim Tomlinson, and novelist and lyricist Kazu Ishiguro.  Each album is wonderful in its own right, and either or both are a perfect gateway to Kent's art.

Kent is playing at Birdland 8:30 and 11PM tonight (the 22nd) as well as Thursday and Friday, and there are still a few tickets available.  

Miranda

Since I was twelve I have been somewhat obsessed with mermaids.  Up until my freshman year in High School I held on to a stubborn belief that they could exist out in the world.  My logic was that no one could prove they don't exist, so...they just might.  This logic allowed me to hold on to my desperate hope that there was still magic in the world that rendered my sudden weight gain, self confidence and low grades in Algebra as truly insignificant.

I still believe there's magic in the world.  I just don't know if it takes the form of beautiful feminine creatures in the depths of the ocean.  But I'm still fascinated by them.  I love how much they own their sensuality and their desires.  How primal they are.  Sometimes they are innocent- like Madison in Splash, and sometimes they are simply unschooled in our societal "niceness" and manners like in Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid.  But always, they are mysterious, enchanting, and powerful, whether they know it or not.  That's certainly true of the mermaid at the center of this oddball little English gem Miranda.

Glynis Johns as Miranda

It stars Glynis Johns as Miranda, a mermaid who catches herself a Doctor on a fishing holiday and convinces him to take her home with him for a vacation.  Merriment ensues.  Glynis (best known for her work in Mary Poppins) is eccentric, guileless and winning.  She's always had an offbeat quality to her, and is at her best when the powers that be allow her to live in this land.  She's that somewhat rare breed, the beautiful character actress.  The director uses her skills to fullest in this story that sets Miranda loose in a world of extremely civilized men and women all doing the proper thing.  

Of course, being the late forties and on a limited budget, the special effects are somewhat simple compared to what is available today, but to me, it only adds to the charm of it.  Remember when special effects were meant to support the story, and not thought of as an element that could drive box office on its own?  One thing the film doesn't lack is sexual innuendo.  I'm assuming the English didn't have the strong censors that Hollywood had at the time, because there a lot of tongue in cheek sexual references sprinkled throughout the movie, which surprised me, knowing their reputation for being somewhat...repressed.

There are also a great number of character actors and actresses filling out the cast, including David Tomlinson, who would eventually play her husband in Mary Poppins, and Margaret Rutherford.  Margaret is best known for playing Miss Marple (whom Agatha Christie detested in the role) and she's wonderfully bulldoggish in the role of Miranda's "nurse".  

Margaret Rutherford

Also worth noting is Googie Withers as the Doctors wife.  Her reactions to Miranda are surprisingly nuanced for a comedy of this type, and very English.

Miranda is available on Netflix streaming, well worth a view, and was very successful in 1948.  It even spawned a sequel, Mad About Men (which is completely skippable).  There was also a statue commissioned near  Dartmouth Castle inspired by Miranda, and it has become a tourist attraction in its own right.

Miranda, Mermaid of Dartmouth, as sculpted by Elisabeth Hadley

3 Drinks and a Chanteuse

Thursday I headed over to 54 Below and caught Charles Busch's cabaret show That Boy/That Girl.  And, since the last time I'd gone out to the theatre with my dear friend Leslie I was nearly thirty minutes late to meet her, this time I gave myself plenty of time to get there.  We had a 6PM dinner reservation, and I arrived in plenty of time to saunter casually in, take a seat, order a vodka soda, and take in the setting.

It feels very posh and expensive, all red and gold, drapey and dim.   It's what a friend of mine used to call "chi-chi poo poo", which I've since made my own (and that's "ch" as in chic, not chick).

It won't surprise you to know there were a lot of queens in this place.    They started filing in and making jokes to the waiters, responding when asked "Can I get you anything tonight?"  "Yes, you can get me that hunk of a driver in delivery truck outside!" There was a lot of name dropping and dishing, and I of course loved it.  What I wouldn't have given for super human hearing.

Pretty soon Leslie arrived, we ordered, the lights dimmed, and out stepped Charles Busch.   I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive.  I had discovered Charles Busch when I was in my early twenties and I stumbled across a copy of his play The Lady In Question, a parody of 1940's classic war propaganda films.  It focused on a beautiful, but self centered violinist, who was not interested in politics and was traveling through Europe on a musical tour.  Charles had written the part for himself, and the photos in the book showed, not the clownish drag I had come to expect, but a glamorous leading lady.  That play opened up a whole new world of possibilities to me, because it said you could do drag, and in your own way, with your personal observations as a man who loves them, raise up the female stars and archetypes of that era for reexamination and praise.  

I'd played a couple of women myself at that point, and was always upset by or dismissive of the one's who played women in order to mock them, or to wear a kind of mask that allowed these performers to let loose their anger and rage with the safety of a female mask.  I wanted to step into these women's shoes for awhile and show the person within, not to mock, but to pay tribute, and to highlight the ridiculousness in ALL of us, as people.

Here was someone who seemed to be doing that, and doing it very well.

After that, I read and saw as much of his work as I could get my hands on, and watched a fascinating documentary entitled The Lady In Question Is Charles Busch, which follows his career, his art, and captures his essence as well as anything else I've seen.  Suffice it to say, he's kind of an artistic hero of mine, and heroes have been known to topple from their pedastles.  

I needn't have worried.  He is a charming raconteur, a delicate interpreter of music and lyrics, and he has a wonderful way of playing the drama behind a song, playing the opposite of the meaning that might have originally been intended to bring new depth.  He's not mawkish, or artificial, but true and authentic.  He's steeped in the femininity of this character, and his/her sensitivity.  I say "character: because, while Charles is himself on-stage, he is still performing himself. It's that fine line of practiced revealing, and very carefully structured intimacy that cabaret is.  As an artist he is a bit of a "magpie", taking the shiny bits of art and glamour and making new works of them, and living in them so fully that they actually become him, and he them.  And he has such a sharp, crisp humor delivered with dead pan technique. It doesn't feel l like an act, but it does feel like this soul found these old films at an early time of life, films that expressed the things already felt, but also further revealed himself to his own eyes, in a way that maybe nothing else had before or since.

 It's a very intimate show, a show in which you are let into the heart and soul of a person, bravely and adeptly.  Leslie, who was not as familiar as I was with his work, said that within moments of his arriving on stage she knew she was in good hands.  I couldn't have said it better.

There's one last chance to see That Boy/That Girl on July 23rd.  

D.A.R.E. to Sell Bongs

I remember D.A.R.E.  I don't know if you are of this age to remember this program, and the details are fuzzy to me, even now.  But it amounted to bringing police officers in to the schools to catch us before we were caught by the druggies and the dope peddlers.  And it worked on me, for sure.  I was a little Victorian.  No smoking!  No drinking!  That little feather that some girls were wearing in their hair???  Don't even think about it.  I was a very savvy fifth grader and I knew that the metal "clip" was really meant to hold drugs!!!!

So when I was in SOHO a couple of days and spotted these on the street...

Now this seems daring to me.  We know what these are for Mr. Vendor, man!!!!   These are not plant holders or decorative vases!!!

Summer's Eve...

It's a balmy summer evening in Brooklyn, just past eleven, and it seemed like a nice time to jot down some thoughts, so I washed the dishes, made myself a nightcap (oh yes I did) and put on summer music.  To me, summer music can be languid like the Flamingos doo-wop cover of I Only Have Eyes For You, or it could be anything by Astrud Gilberto, that music seems meant for summer, or even big band hits and toss in some Jeff Buckley.  Truth be told, I'm not sure what exactly defines summer music, but I know it when I hear it.

It's strange how malleable our emotions are, or does it speak to the power of music, that a certain song can come on and it makes me feel a very particular way?  I don't mean "that song that he and I listened to when we" fill in the blank.  I just mean the way certain songs can make you joyful or whimsical or melancholy.  Right now, I'm missing my friends... Mark, Meg, Julie... my folks, my little dog...and I know I'll see them again, but I sure do wish they could all be with me here now.  Of course, now I get to be with my friends Kirk and Heather, and Leslie, and Melissa and Kathleen, and I couldn't be more grateful.  Every decision has a trade off I suppose.  The trade I've made is so I can be close to opportunity and creativity, and the energy that this town has.

It's funny, but it doesn't feel at all like Los Angeles.  In LA I would hide what I did for a living.  I would never tell anyone that I was in a show or that I sang, or what have you.  And every time I heard someone talking about their new head shots my stomach would churn and Id become a caustically bitter bitch.  I guess, in LA, it was just so easy to say your were performer.  Anyone could get head shots and dream of fame and fortune or reality tv stardom.  But the theatre?  You ain't doing it for the money, that's for sure.  So if you are doing it, you must really love and be devoted to it.  At least that's the way it feels.  So when I hear someone talking about their auditions as I'm typing away on my computer at a coffee shop, or planning an indie music video, it feeds me.  Makes me feel a part of a community in a way that LA never did.

Another thing about New York.  I know an agent helps.  But it's not required that you have one to get into an auction.  I couldn't even get seen in LA.  Everything I got was because of who I knew, my friends who trusted me and knew that I would deliver something.  I was really grateful for those times, but of course it's nice to win a job from a stranger, and what they see right in front of them in the moment.

Tomorrow I'm seeing Charles Busch at 54 Below in his cabaret show That Boy/That Girl.  Admittedly, there was a moment when I thought I wouldn't go, as money is something I need to keep track of, but... Mr. Busch has written some amazing things in his lifetime.  Psycho Beach Party, Die Mommie Die!, Vampire Lesbians of Sodom, among others.  And his approach to drag is the kind I appreciate and understand.  Yes, it's about looking good, but there's something under the surface... he brings an intelligence to drag, a devotion to the great ladies, that really resonates, and he channels that spirit and glamour like no one else.  It's an incredible talent.  And when someone like that, someone I identify with and take inspiration from, is performing a cabaret show, it's a good moment to not only listen and enjoy, but to learn.  So I'll give you an update tomorrow or the next day for sure.

Somewhere That's Greene

No, the title doesn't refer to the recent Encores Revival of Little Shop that was by all accounts incredible.  Instead it refers to a town three and a half hours from the city.  They have an Equity theatre that is producing Jeff Daniels' comedy Escanaba in Da Moonlight about two brothers and their father on an annual deer hunting trip.  They are replacing a cast member, and conducted auditions to fill the role.

It was the first thing I submitted for in New York, through the Equity website, and I got an email from the Artistic director that I might be a match.  We set up an audition and I went to work.  I read the script, printed up the sides, made some notes, studied the Upper Peninsulan accent I would need to do the part (it shares some qualities with the Minnesotan accent, but is definitely distinct from it) and bright and early Sunday morning I did a couple readings from the sides.  I felt it was a really strong reading, but you never know.

Well last night I was told I'd booked the role, and as of this morning it's official!!  I'll be playing Reuben Soady, the elder son of the Soady family.  He's ever landed a buck, and if he doesn't do it this year, he will go down in the records as being the oldest one in family history to have never landed one.  It's a comedy very immersed in the UP culture, full of references to Pasties, home brew, drinking and hunting, and aliens.  Yep.

I leave on July 27th for six weeks in Greene.  I'll be living at the theatre with the rest of the cast, though I'll have a private room, access to a company car, and will have a day off each week.  It should be pretty exciting, and I should have plenty of time for other creative projects, so hopefully it will be conducive to writing.  Of course, as a human, I am completely against deer hunting, so it will be interesting to play a character that is so immersed in it, but we will see how it goes.  It's a story, after all.

I'll definitely send updates about how the show is progressing.  Right now Im just grateful to have found paying work so quickly that is in my chosen field, and affirms that there are good opportunities out here for actors and artists.  And Greene's high temps are typically in the seventies and eighties, so it will provide welcome relief from the heat.  Halleluj!!!

I Is Chef!

I've always had the vague feeling, not that I usually act on it quickly, that a place you live doesn't feel like home until you've broken in the kitchen by making a full out meal.  I'm not talking boxed soup, but some delicious recipe (it's best if it's one you've never tried).  Cooking in this kitchen was a joy, and a bit of an adventure, as the stove is compact, and I'm not very familiar with what utensils and spices are available, so in some cases I had to make do.  I found a really delicious chicken recipe I'd been dying to try (found it on Pinterest, that's right) and I was really pleased with the results.

(Picture for illustrative purposes only.  This is not my actual result)

The recipe originated from the Jewhungry blog, and the alterations I made were few.  I am not kosher so I went ahead and used butter an sour cream, although I'm sure it's delicious with the dairy substitutions, they weren't available within easy walking distance from my apartment.  I also used some rice noodles from the fridge (which I'll replace before my friends come home because I am a good person) as I didn't have a saucepan and tight fitting lid avail.  

All in all, it was truly "dish delish", made me feel like a grown up, and acclimated me to the kitchen with little trauma as it is a dish that's easy to prepare.  So  hooray for cooking!

The Third New York

"There are roughly three New Yorks.  There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter- the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.  Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something.  Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last- the city of the final destination, the city that is a goal.  It is this third city that accounts for New York's high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements.  Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion.  And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference:  Each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company."  

-- E.B White from a passage in his essay Here is New York.

There's an App For That

Thank God for technology.  It's been really helpful in learning to navigate this city.  Of course, google maps has been a godsend in helping me walk the town, but there are many other useful apps, a few of which I have listed below:

• FOR YOUR SUBWAY NEEDS-  Hopstop.  It tells you how to get to the nearest sub station and which train to take to get to your desired destination. It also tells you your eta, including walking time.  Beware, though.  This is only an estimate.  And since it's always good to have a back-up app for such things, there's also Embark NYC.  Embark has a better alert system in case of changes to service, but I personally prefer Hopstop.

• FOR YOUR THEATRE TICKET NEEDS-  TKTS.  This app connects to the ticket booths around town (there are three) that can get you discounts to Broadway and Off-Broadway shows.  They are usually (although not always) 50% off.  But be warned, the discount is off the best seats available.  SO if tickets are $160, you will pay around 80, with a service fee.  Which is still a good deal, but if you are looking for nosebleed seats, they are not here.  There's also Today Tix , which offers more seating options and lists the lowest priced tickets available as well as some better seats for a slighter hefty price.  

• FOR YOUR FOOD DELIVERY NEEDS-  Because this is New York, tons of restaurants offer free delivery, and of course there are a couple of apps that will tell you what's in the area (you can also search for specifics) and allow you to place and pay for your order through the app.  You can also see reviews and ratings for suggestions.  I've not used either of these, but both Grub Hub and Seamless come highly recommended.  

Of course they have apps for taking taxis, and there's always Uber.  I used Uber a few times in Austin, as it's very quick with pick-ups and the drivers have always been really friendly.  Truthfully though, , I haven't had any troubles getting a taxi in New York when I needed it, so thus far, I've not used it since moving.

This is just the beginning of my list, which is sure to grow as I meet new people, get suggestions and discover things on my own.  If you have one to add to the list, or suggestions of better apps for the situations mentioned, I would love to hear about it/them in the comments section!

Too Many Rats

Another undeniable feature of New York City?  Rats.  Sightings in the subway are all too common, and as I walked home through the streets of Brooklyn after having a drink with friends, passing by the mounds of garbage at the curbs, a rat scrambled from the garbage bags and crossed my path, which was a first for me.

Truthfully?  I can deal.  I don't want to see one in my apartment EVAH, and every time I make my way to the toady I try not to think of the Urban legend of rats crawling through the pipes and up out of the toilet.  But I think they are here to stay.

This whole situation reminds me of the children's book my Aunt Lu used to read to me before I fell asleep.  It was called The King, The Mice, and The Cheese.  You think New York has rats and mice?

Well, the wise men of the city told the King to get rid of the mice with cats, but shocker, the cats proved to be a bigger problem than the mice so they had to use dogs, and then lions to get rid of the dogs, and elephants to get rid of the lions... you see where this is going, right?

Mice for the win!!!

So, again, as long as they aren't inside with me, cuddled up in bed expecting a belly rub, I will be fine.  Not happy, by any means, but I suppose I will live.  And yet, being "fine" means some days you will walk past a building with a sign like this...

Opening Night at NYMF

Yesterday I was lucky enough to see the opening night of this year's New York Musical Theatre Festival (aka NYMF), and I learned a valuable lesson about traveling in New York-- ALWAYS give yourself more time than you think you will need.  Especially if you are staying out in Brooklyn.  Those "arrival times" on the subway apps are just estimates, people. and they are no guaranty that you will get there at the time they say.

I was meeting my friend at 480 Broadway at 6:30.  Leaving at 5:35 should be enough time to get there, right?  Fuck that!!!  I needn't have spent the time showering and making myself presentable, because after racing 3 blocks to the subway, getting on the 3 and then switching to the express (only to realize that the express landed me a little farther away from Times Square than the local) taking shuttle to Times Square and then walk-running from 42nd to 10th street, I was drenched and red faced (at least that's how I felt).  And I could not find 480 for the life of me.  I found 470... and 500... back to 470...and 500.  I called my friend at 6:56 for a 7pm show.  Would that I was calm cool and collected when making this call.  Alas, I was not.

"I'm going home.  I don't...I don't even know where I am.  I'm at the CVS at 10th and Broadway"

"Joe, the theatre is at 10th and Broadway.  You can make it."

This was my first encounter with inner demons.  Of course, these were relatively small demons, and not giant hairy demons with spiked backs coming at me with great swords.  They were small demons like the little caped chap on the deviled ham cans, with tiny little shrimp forks to jab insistently until I felt I just might lose my shit in frustration at subways and geography and my perceived ineptitude.   I did not lose my shit.  I took a breath, or two.

This is when I realized that though the sign on the outside of the building might say 470, it is ALSO 480, but 480 is upstairs.

I hurried up the stairs, made my way through the velvet rope, passing directly by Johnny Tartaglia, the director, who was far too immersed in pre-show prep to notice the harried homo heading into the theatre.  I met my friend, and a couple of new people who could not have been sweeter, and the A/C started to calm my nerves and soothe my soul.

I hadn't even had a chance to investigate what the show was about.  I'd just seen the blurb of text that mentioned a "super" guy.  Super Hero musical?  Ok.  Could be fun.

What it actually is, as was beautifully captured in the opening number, is a musical about the inner lives of video game characters, specifically those in "Claudio Quest" (an homage to Mario World).   It's the story of two brothers, one a shining star always saving the day, and the other his dutiful and dear, one man pit crew.  It's whimsical, bright, beautifully designed, and very tight.  And while it's clever, it is more than that.  The writers did some major research and tapped into all the things that annoy and inspire us about them, and use the world of Claudio and Luis and Princess Poinsettia to explore questions of free will, the possibilities of defying expectations, and the yearning for something more.  The script is well structured, and supported by some wonderful performances.  There were a few times I thought about the trust that the writers place on the actors, because many lines in less capable hands could land rather flatly, but they are executed with full out commitment and just a smidgeon of irony which helps them really breathe.  Special props to Michael Schupbach and The Puppet Kitchen for the rendering of the angry mushrooms, eggplants and assorted creatures that populate Claudio's Kingdom.

I got to meet John Tartaglia after the show, and he could not have been more charming or considerate.  It was fun to be able to see everyone after, to get to tell them what a wonderful job they'd done,  and what joy they had brought.

If you are in the New York area you have seven more chances to catch this production in its current form, and I couldn't recommend it more.