I haven’t had much writing time during the past two days, but I was able to make two more little videos with performers from the 2010 Indianapolis Fringe Theatre Festival.

In the above video, playwright-performer Dan Bernitt talks about his solo staged reading of “Swan Balloon,” a fairy tale for adults. 

(By the way, there is nothing about “Swan Balloon” that is inappropriate for children, but probably the children who would most appreciate it are children that are already used to being read aloud to and are therefore used to having to/getting to use their own imaginations for significant stretches of time.  I do think that adults will pick up on more of the subtext in this story than children would.  That said, it is a sweet story, good for adults that are in the mood for something touching and, yes, uplifting.)

To make the video, last night Dan walked me to my next show, “Ophelia’s Revenge,” and we recorded our conversation in front of that venue, the Marian Underground, before we went our separate ways. 

This was my first time at this new IndyFringe venue.  The Marian building is an easy walk from Massachusetts Avenue.  From Theatre on the Square, for example, you walk down to the Athenaeum Theatre, which is not a Fringe venue this year but you may remember it from years past.  You will probably hear the music blasting from the Rathskellar Restaurant, which is in the same building.  You turn left onto New Jersey.  The Marian building is just past the Catholic church (St. Mary’s, I think it’s called) on the same side of the street.

Another way of finding it, if you’re driving, is to go to the Marsh grocery store that used to be O’Malia’s.  The Marian building is right behind the Marsh parking lot on New Jersey.  During the festival there is a big IndyFringe sign out front.  A small plaque on the building itself says “Marian Building” or something like that. 

The theatre space is in the basement.  Sit as close to the front as you can because the floor is not raked (i.e. everyone sits on the same level) and the stage is only slightly raised.  Hold your elbows in if you sit on the aisle so that you don’t get bitten by zombies.

After I laughed out loud at “Ophelia’s Revenge,” one of the zombies from the show, Ryan Powell, let me try again to make a little video with him.  I got flustered again, as you’ll see if you watch the video, but at least I made sure this time that the little red light on my iPhone was flashing.  I appreciate Ryan giving me a second chance.

Oh!  And here’s the video:

I saw three Fringe shows on Tuesday night:  “Another 55 Minutes with Loren and Howard,” “Swan Balloon,” and “The Four Food Groups.”  I saw three more shows last night (Wednesday night):  “Before Tomorrow,” “Ophelia’s Revenge,” and “They Touch in Flood.”

I got something useful and/or enjoyable from each of these six shows, so I would like to write in detail about each of them.  However, I may or may not have time, so here is what I tweeted (wrote on www.twitter.com/indytheatre) right after each show:

• Loren & Howard’s #indyfringe stories went places I didn’t expect. (Peyote & handcuffs)
• “Swan Balloon” is a polished reading of a touching, uplifting #indyfringe work-in-progress.
• “Four Food Groups” is an innovative & refreshingly mature exploration of a favorite #indyfringe topic: sex & relationships.
• “Before Tomorrow” is a visually beautiful & emotionally satisfying collage of dance, words, & 3D painting-in-progress. #indyfringe
• Great surprise to see Ben Asaykwee in “Ophelia’s Revenge.”  He is also in “Madwomen” this week at #indyfringe!
• “Ophelia’s Revenge” is a hilarious mash-up of Shakespeare’s classics & classic zombie lore.  #indyfringe
• “They Touch in Flood” is an unabashedly sexual dancing-with-words #indyfringe show.  Fun & erotic to watch.

In case you’re not familiar with Twitter.com, a word with a pound sign (#) is known as a “hashtag.”  It a signal that something is a topic.  It is distracting at first, but after a while you get used to seeing them.  Hashtags make it easier (at least while the trend is happening) to find everything that anyone has tweeted about a certain topic, assuming that everyone puts #indyfringe (or whatever the topic is) somewhere in each of their Indy Fringe-related tweets.

The tweets will disappear after a while though, which is not so great.

I am headed back downtown now to “toast the new season” presented by Broadway Across America.  Then I am going to try again to see “The Boy in the Basemen” at the Indy Fringe.  It was been sold out every time I’ve tried before.  Wish me luck!

The 2010 Indy Fringe Theatre Festival continues in six venues on and around Massachusetts Avenue in downtown Indianapolis, Indiana (USA) through Sunday, August 29, 2010.  For more information, please see the standard IndyFringe website – www.indyfringe.org – OR see the new and fabulously satisfying mobile version from your phone – www.m.indyfringe.org.

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and www.Twitter.com/IndyTheatre.

I had a wonderful, wonderful first day of shows at the 2010 Indianapolis Fringe Theatre Festival yesterday.  I met some lovely new people (including Australian comedian Lou Sanz – see the little informal video we made after her first show, above) and reconnected with some dear friends.

And…I saw four satisfying shows!

“Andrea Merlyn’s Book of Secrets” – Theatre on the Square (TOTS).

The Act – Local transgender magician Taylor Martin performs as Andrea Merlyn sharing stories from her 50+ years of performing all over the country, meeting all kinds of people.  She incorporates magic tricks with props – including the Book of Secrets itself – plus clips of recorded music, a few costume changes, a bit of lip-synching, a mouthful of bubbles, and more into her stories, assisted by Taylor Martin’s wife and two other stage hands.

The Art – The stories from Andrea’s life fit neatly into the overall story arc of 1) being at a magic show, 2) getting to go back stage to chat intimately with the magician at intermission, and then 3) going back out with her to enjoy the second act of the show.  A repeated reference to the singing Chipmunks ties the beginning of the piece to the end of the piece in a very satisfying way.  The show is neatly staged and tightly put together – neither rushed nor padded.  The patter made me smile and sometimes laugh out loud.  I was sitting near the light booth and even heard the tech guys chuckling from time to time.  Some of the magic tricks are performed competently but transparently: you can guess how they work, so you just enjoy sharing Andrea’s delight in presenting them.  However, the sleight-of-hand in the bubble trick is seamless, and a trick towards the end that incorporates an unknown audience member is “hey, how’d she do that?!” amazing. 

The Appeal – There is a schmaltzy, homemade, bravely-adult-but-still-joyful quality to Andrea’s work that is very appealing.  She has been through a lot and she pretends to be jaded, but she’s not.  She obviously loves everything about magic – from collecting antique magic props to sharing her vast knowledge of magic history – and she obviously loves working with live audiences.  You definitely feel seen, heard, and acknowledged when you are in her audience.  There is at least one other 2010 IndyFringe act that incorporates cross-dressing, and there is at least one other that incorporates magic, but I guarantee you that none of the other acts are quite like Andrea’s.  Taylor Martin’s magic show, starring either Andrea Merlyn or one of Taylor’s other personifications, is also one of only two acts that have been part of the 6-year-old Indy Fringe Festival from the beginning.  (Andrea shares the honor with Phil the Void.)   If you have never seen one of Taylor Martin’s shows, you have not truly Fringed in Indianapolis.  If you have seen Taylor’s work before, don’t worry:  the 2010 show includes a lot of new material plus a trick from Andrea’s “greatest hits” collection.

The Audience – This is an “adults only” show only because a parent might have to answer some awkward questions from a child about why that man is wearing make-up and a dress, and because children might not be interested in all of the stories.  Also, Andrea uses the “s” word once.

“Please Don’t Use My Flannel for That: A Memoir” – Phoenix Theatre, sponsored by Storytelling Arts of Indiana.

The Act – Australian writer/stand-up comedian Lou Sanz gives “a reading” from her memoir-in-progress.  The chapter she shares is about her selling a screenplay as a 19-year-old (I think) and coming to Hollywood from Melbourne to fulfill her dreams.  She has the most outrageously bad luck when she gets to the United States – everything from falling in with a racist pimp she calls The Cowboy to falling in “love” with a heroin user/dish washer that she meets at Denny’s.

The Art – Lou speaks from beside or behind a music stand that holds her writing, but this show is so much more a crafted and polished performance piece than a mere reading.  For one thing, if Lou hasn’t memorized the whole thing I’d be surprised, she is that comfortable walking away from the stand and interacting with her audience.  Also, subtle but effective lighting choices, subtle incorporation of props such as eyeglasses and balled up pieces of paper, even Lou’s choice of what to wear (leopard print top over cute black shorts plus glittery purple eyeliner and red, red lipstick at the performance I saw) add layers of artistic polish to the show as well.  Her word choices and her story-shaping make for brilliant writing.  Her deadpan delivery and deliciously impeccable comic timing make for brilliant performance art.  I wish I could hear and see the next chapter in her memoir as well!

The Appeal – Beyond the basic appeal of excellence in literary and performance art, if you like your IndyFringe experience to have an international flavor, this show is filled with fascinating cross-cultural references.  Plus, there is the delight of Lou’s Australian accent. 

The Audience – I heard both men and women roaring with laughter at this show.  This show is definitely only for adults, and only for adults who are not easily offended by shocking language and content.  This show’s humor is sophisticated but it does include references to things like finger raping and dick-kicking, never mind the occasional “f” word.

“Deep in Love/For Adults Only” – Phoenix Theatre, sponsored by Storytelling Arts of Indiana

The Act – Local (I think) musician Vincent Howard plays some sprightly jazz compositions on a portable electric piano before MC Jacques Carry warms up the audience further with a short, funny joke about love.  Then storyteller Deborah Asante shares a story or two from her repertory of adult love stories.  The selection at each of her 2010 IndyFringe performances will be unique.  On the night I was there, she told a longish story that had come to her “in a dream.”  It was about an African-American woman in 1948 who farmed and made a little extra money by providing room and board to “colored travelers” that couldn’t stay in whites-only hotels.  One of her guests was a man that became both lover and threat.  Deborah also told a shorter story about a woman and her frog pet.  Deborah said that she had shared that story before at a Fringe Friday event, but I had never heard it before.  Even if I had, though, I like hearing stories more than once to see what I get from them on repeated listening. 

The Art – Every performance artist is a storyteller of a sort, but when I use the word “storyteller” I usually mean someone who shares stories aloud in the oral tradition – i.e., tells the stories rather than memorizes them word for word or reads them aloud – in a well-crafted way, and who tells them as herself rather than pretending to be someone else.  There is no “fourth wall” between a storyteller and the audience.  Deborah is a master at this art form.  She quickly develops excellent rapport with her audiences; her pacing is comfortable, effective, and sometimes even trance-inducing; and her delivery, for the most part, is beautifully economical: no unnecessary “he saids” and “she saids,” for example.  At the performance I saw, there was one moment in the first story when Deborah struggled and struggled over how to convey the intimacy and animosity inherent in the two lovers’ breathing into each other’s mouths.  The struggle surprised me because it was so out-of-character for Deborah’s usually seamless work.  However, ultimately she did find the words to make us understand, and the struggle ultimately enhanced the portrayal of the characters’ struggle, so maybe it had been a conscious artistic choice all along.  At the performance I saw, Deborah wore a stunning white dress embellished with sparkly white appliqué’s.  She was not in costume, but she was dressed up, which made me feel that she respected the storytelling trinity: the stories, the storyteller, and the story listeners.

The Appeal – Deborah Asante’s storytelling style is warm, frank, and compassionately humorous.   I have heard her tell many times before over the years but it has usually been stories for children and/or family audiences.  It is a rare treat to get to hear some of her adults-only stories.  Vincent Howard’s music is icing.  He will be at all of Deborah’s 2010 IndyFringe shows except for the last one.  At her final show next Sunday, Deborah will share her stage with a “blues woman” whose name I didn’t catch.  More icing is that if you fill out a form at the end of the show, you get a copy of a romantic suspense novel written by one of Deborah’s friends, Crystal Rhodes.  It is called Sweet Sacrifice.

The Audience – The content of this show, at least the night I saw it, is earthy and definitely for adults only, but it is not x-rated.  It uses sexual innuendo and words like “orgasm” but not the “f” word (that I remember.)

“Phil the Void: Spontaneous Dumbustion” – ComedySportz.

The Act – L.A.-based stand-up comedian Phil Van Hest has brought another of his world premieres to Indianapolis this year.  The new material is a richly layered, pee-your-pants-funny story based on a specific and sincere spiritual awakening that Phil had recently.

The Art – At the performance I saw of this solo artist’s show, two very distinct forms of artistry were going on. 

On one level was Phil the performance artist working his gifts of language mastery, cerebral surprises, comic timing, physicality, and story making. 

On another level was Phil the compassionate and perhaps reluctant healer-artist (for lack of a better word) doing what he had been called to do in terms of energy management by the universal boss in that particular moment. 

A woman I sometimes (meanly, I admit) call the Honker was in the front row, laughing her signature laugh inappropriately loudly, long, and often.  Other people in the audience who don’t know that she is an institution in the Indianapolis theatre community were grumbling loudly about her distracting behavior, thinking they could influence it.  I have been one of those grumblers in the past.  I sympathized with both my fellow audience members and with Phil.

But I could see also see the Honker’s face and she was obliviously locked on to Phil, looking at him with such love and need that her laughs were like orgasms. 

I know from love and neediness, too, so I just watched her and Phil while still listening to, and enjoying, Phil’s surface show.

In the meantime, a man in the other side of the front row started texting someone about the Honker.  (I was sitting behind him.) 

Phil mostly stood in front of The Honker and, again for lack of a better word, was a channel for whatever divine energy was trying to feed her.  He delivered the show that he had come to deliver, and it was excellent, and he even managed to connect with the rest of his fans in the audience, but he also stayed fully present and judgment-free for that particular woman while she got what she needed.  Only when Texting Guy took out his phone and started thumbing it did Phil react.

“Are you texting her?” Phil asked the man, pointing to the man’s date.  “Because that’s less rude than whispering to her, right?”  Everyone laughed.  I was surprised at first that Phil would let the Honker’s rudeness go unaddressed but call out Texting Guy.

A little later in his monologue, Phil referred to cell phone usage causing brain damage.  He paused and looked over at Texting Guy, who was still thumbing the phone in his lap.  More laughs from everyone.

Phil came out of his story even more then to say, “At least he’s holding it down here…” Phil cupped his hands around his crotch, then grinned at Texting Guy and stage-whispered “Sorry! Sorry!” before saying aloud to the audience “…Where it won’t do any damage.” 

More laughs from everyone, including Texting Guy.  At the end of the show, I saw Texting Guy tell his girlfriend to wait a minute so that he could go up and shake Phil’s hand.

And only at the very end of the show did Phil acknowledge the Honker with words.  He said to everyone, “I have CD’s of last year’s show for sale.”  He looked at the Honker and said, “You’re on it.”  He laughed a little and added something like, “I sometimes wonder if you’re going to burst.  You remind me of a whistling tea kettle.”*  She just smiled at him, relaxed and satisfied.

Now would I prefer to see any show without the distractions of the Honker?  Yes.  But I can’t help thinking, also, that I have been her.  And Phil’s energy management artistry reminded me that many people have been compassionate with my neediness, too.

His artistry last night also reminded me of a conversation that he and I and a previous IndyFringe artist named Brent McCoy (aka Clown at Work) had on the back porch of the Chatham Tap last year.

“The audience is a beast that is on my side,” Brent said.  “If I treat it right, I can tame it.”

The audience was on Phil’s side last night, and they would have torn the Honker to pieces if Phil had let them.  Instead, he managed the energy in the room so that there was no blood shed and everyone went away with something good.

That, my friends, is artistry.

The Appeal – As I mentioned earlier, Phil shares with Taylor Martin the honor of being the only two performers that have been part of the 6-year-old Indy Fringe Festival every year from the beginning.  I don’t know if Phil-as-Healer/Channel will be part of every performance – he is, after all, just this regular guy from L.A. at the end of the day – but “just” his advertised stand-up comedy show is treat enough that it will be selling out by the end of the festival.

The Audience – Phil’s work is definitely for adults only, and only for adults that are not offended by politician-bashing, homophobe-bashing, sexual explicitness, the “f” word, the “p” word, the “a” word, and so on.  But beyond that, Phil’s work appeals to both men and women, to adults of all generations, and to comedy-lovers, story-lovers, shock-lovers, and philosophy-lovers.

The Indy Fringe Festival continues at six venues on or near Massachusetts Avenue in downtown Indianapolis, Indiana (USA) through Sunday, August 29, 2010.  For a schedule and more information about the shows, please see www.IndyFringe.org.

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and www.twitter.com/IndyTheatre.

*Phil mentioned in the comment box for this post that for the record, what he actually said was, “You remind me of a teakettle in distress.”  I promised I would revise my “record” accordingly and have hereby done so, laughing again.  HB

I was sick the opening weekend of “Bus Stop” at the Indianapolis Civic Theatre so I reluctantly cancelled my media passes and stayed home.  However, a friend had turned me on to William Inge’s work a couple years ago so I very much wanted to see a live production of this William Inge play.  I got over my bug eventually and was able to buy a last-minute ticket to one of the final performances in the run. (I attended Thursday, February 4, 2010.)

I want to thank Civic for producing this 1956 Tony-nominated play about a group of people that get stranded at a small town bus stop in Kansas during a blizzard.  It is thought-provoking in new ways, I imagine, now that it is an historical rather than contemporary piece.  And, except for the lighting design (or perhaps just its execution), which sometimes mystified me, all of the design elements – set, costumes, etc. – in this particular production were excellent.  The acting was excellent, too.  All of the characters engaged me with their life stories and their interactions with each other.  The last line knocked me over in a way that it wouldn’t have, I’m sure, if I had simply read the script. 

I am not going to take time to write a full review of this show because a) I have been having home computer problems and therefore b) I am now several posts behind, but I do want to record who did what.  I’ll do that at the end of this post.

I would also like to use this mini-review of Civic’s “Bus Stop” to explore a comment that contemporary playwright Eric Pfeffinger made on a thread on IndianaAuditions.com recently.

Premiere-itis

The thread was about a show called “The Housewives of Mannheim” that ran at the Phoenix Theatre earlier this year.  Some media sources said the piece had its world premiere in New Jersey (last year?) but someone else on IA said he had seen and enjoyed a production of it at the Bloomington Playwrights Project here in Indiana before that.

Eric said:

“It did win the Reva Shiner award at the Bloomington Playwrights Project and was produced there in 2006.  (Which just goes to show that the whole concept of ‘world premieres’ has grown slippery and meaningless, a development that ought to – but probably won’t – cure theaters of the disease they call premiere-itis.)”

He also said:

“The New Jersey production was promoted by its theater as the world premiere and the media picked up on that accordingly; whether that error was made on the part of the theater or the playwright, it’s impossible for those of us on the outside to say.  Either way, presumably it was an honest mistake, but it does beget other mistakes; if the New Jersey show is promoted as the world premiere then it’s natural for people or media to assume that the Phoenix production is the Indiana premiere.  And in the end the BPP doesn’t get the credit it deserves.

Mistakes of this nature are inevitable as long as theater administrators continue to cling to the notion of world (or regional) premieres as marketing coups to be prioritized over other matters. The best way to avoid them is to get away from premieritis and attach value instead to second and third and ninth productions of worthy plays.”

(Read the full thread here.)

I confess – without shame – that I am interested in premieres:  world premieres, regional premieres, local premieres, even local community theatre premieres and workshop readings.  There is just something inherently exciting about a first time.

On the other hand, in live theatre, every production – even every performance – is like the first time because anything can happen.  It is live.

And I do understand and agree with Eric’s frustration.  A new play is not like a new car.  If it is good, it should increase in value over time, not decrease.  Unfortunately, too many good, new plays are abandoned in favor of the next world premiere simply because a world premiere is easier for a theatre to market.  Old, tried-and-true award winners are even easier.

I don’t have a solution for any of this…except to keep going to a variety of shows myself as often as I can, and to keep encouraging others to go as well – not because “we should” but because life is richer and more satisfying with a shot of live theatre in it.

The Pleasure of Personal Premieres

“Bus Stop” at Civic was a world premiere for me.  Or maybe “personal premiere” would be a more accurate expression.  I had never read the script, nor seen the movie, nor even read my press release very carefully.  After seeing an all-volunteer production of Inge’s Pulitzer Prize-winning “Picnic” last year (also without much preparation), I simply wanted to see everything else of his that I could.

I also wanted to experience it the way that a theatre reviewer or other audience member on opening night at the Music Box Theater on March 2, 1955 would have had to experience it: in the moment, with very few preconceptions.

On the other hand, I also love seeing “the same” show done by more than one theatre company.  It is interesting to see how their interpretations of a script vary, fascinating to see the wealth of artistic choices that can be made around one good (or even so-so) script.

I even love seeing multiple performances of a show at one theatre, if it is a show that intrigues me and/or delights me, because it will probably be repeatedly satisfying and yet have additional aspects that I missed the first time.  It will never be exactly the same experience twice.

A Handful of Mini-Reviews

In fact, if I had time, I would go to Theatre on the Square this month to see Pfeffinger et al’s “Assholes & Aureoles” again.  It runs Fridays and Saturdays only through February 12, 2010 on the TOTS Main Stage.  I first saw and loved this brilliant theatrical anthology when it had its (I think!) world premiere here at the Indy Fringe Festival in 2008.  It has since gone on, I think, to be produced in other locations.  (This is where a professional journalist would stop writing and contact Eric Pfeffinger to ask him for confirmation and details, but I have only a short time left on this borrowed computer so I am forging ahead with this post.)

Anyway, I loved “Assholes & Aureoles” the first time and I would be interested to see how it has matured since then, especially since I would also get to revisit Ron Spencer in his “Mr. Charles” piece on the same night.

My first experience of Tennessee William’s 1955 Tony Award-winning “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” was this past Friday at the Carmel Community Playhouse.  I forgot that the cast members were all volunteers.  I forgot, even, that they were actors.  Tennessee gave his characters long, explanatory speeches that no one would ever make in real life, but somehow, with these actors, under the direction of Brian Noffke, it works.  It is a painful yet cathartic story about humanity’s timeless yearning for love and acceptance.  I wish I had time to see it again.  It runs only one more weekend: Thursday-Sunday through February 21, 2010.

But the night before that, I saw what I am sure is the regional premiere of “Call Me Boricua!” written and performed by Ricardo Melendez at the Phoenix Theatre.   It too, runs only one more weekend, Thursday-Sunday.  The Sunday, February 21, 2010 performance will be in Spanish and admission will be free.  This live memoir is only a small sampling of the personal stories this bilingual, multi-talented artist has to share, and what he left out (that I even know about) from his life was as interesting to me as what he chose to include.  I therefore hope I can look forward to “Call Me Boricua – Part Two” and three and so on.  However, this particular evening of well-blended music, dance, comedy, and confrontation is neatly contained and richly stimulating.  I left feeling inspired and intoxicated by its authenticity.

I was also privileged to be present at the world premiere of Gayle Steigerwald’s first foray into storytelling as opposed to acting.  She was one of the featured tellers at the “Jabberwocky” event at the Indy Fringe building last Tuesday night.  The event was co-sponsored by Storytelling Arts of Indiana.  I turned to my friend Ellen afterwards and said, “I knew it!  Gayle is a natural.”  I loved listening to Gayle’s stories.  I deeply hope that I get to hear more of them.

And last night I enjoyed Megan McKinney’s debut at the Beef and Boards Dinner Theatre.  She plays both a matronly mom and a sexy-trashy country singer in B&B’s production of “Footloose” and is, as I expected, fabulous.  What I had not expected (only because I hadn’t really thought about the plot ahead of time) was to be weeping over Eddie Curry’s portrayal of the preacher with the grief-hardened heart.  I don’t think I had ever seen Eddie in a dramatic (i.e., not at all comedic) role before.  Seeing that segment of his acting range was as satisfying as seeing a successful world premiere of a new kind of play by a beloved playwright.

(And although I had seen the movie version of “Footloose,” I had never seen the stage version, so that was a personal premiere for me, too.  It is a hoot.)

Tonight I went to Theatre on the Square’s Stage Two to see “Spring Cleaning” – a collection of eight short, new plays by a group of Indiana playwrights called Indy Playmakers.  Some of the plays were stronger than others, but the range of topics and approaches was broad and therefore interesting.  I enjoyed the evening of premieres.  I also appreciated that it gave me good food for thought about the making of plays.

Writing Plan

I would like to write more about each of these shows.  My time on this borrowed computer is now about up, though, so I’ll just sketch out what I plan to write about in the next few days after (I hope!) my home computer comes back hale and hearty from the shop:

• Mailbox:  “Free Ticket February” and other news from the wealth that has been waiting too long(!) in my email box. (In the meantime, that link sends you to BroadwayWorld.com for the info about free tickets in Feb/March for people ages 13-19 years old.)
• Discovery: Sports Tellers!
• Storytelling Review:  “Jabberwocky: Once Upon a Time”
• Theatre Review:  “Call Me Boricua!” at the Phoenix
• Hardhat Palladium Tour (update 3-3-10 – I am skipping this topic for the moment, but will write about it once I am caught up with reviews.)
• Theatre Review: “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” at Carmel Community Players
• Theatre Review: “Footloose” at Beef and Boards Dinner Theatre
• Theatre Review: “Spring Cleaning” at Theatre on the Square

There are many other shows running now or soon that would be personal premieres for me as an audience member.  I wish I had time to see them all!  Next weekend on Saturday, February 20, 2010, I am going to hear Carmen Deedy tell stories at the Indiana History Center for sure.  That one-night-only event is co-sponsored by Storytelling Arts of Indiana. 

I am also, I hope going to hear one or more of the new one-person shows at the Indiana Repertory Theatre.  I have a special fondness for one-person shows, and these will all be world premieres to me.   Actually, what I would love to do is take most of next weekend to play catch-up with my writing, and then have an IRT weekend the following weekend.  I think that Saturday, February 27, 2010, is the one day on which you can see all three one-person shows on one day.   Hmm.

And then it will be March.  There is a lot going on in terms of live theatre and storytelling in the Indianapolis area in March, too!  Yay and yikes.

********** 

By the way, if you didn’t already see it, there is a wonderful article in today’s Indianapolis Star that happens to be about some of my favorite set designers.  Jay Harvey wrote it.  Here is a tiny link to it:

http://tinyurl.com/yjmg8w3

Okay, I have to give up this borrowed computer now.  ‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

Also follow @IndyTheatre on Twitter for random, quickie comments before and after shows.

********** 

Photo above is of (left to right) Erin Cohenour, Brandon Alstott, and Parrish Williams.

“Bus Stop” was written by William Inge and directed at the Civic Theatre by Michael J. Lasley.  Set/Lighting designed by Ryan Koharchik. Costumes designed by Jean Engstrom.  Sound designed by Michael J. Lasley.  Hair/Wigs designed by Debbie Williams.  Properties designed by Janet Sutton.  Stage manager: Denise Stockdale.

Sarah Dygaard played Elma Duckworth.  Carrie Bennett Fedor played Grace Hoylard.  Tobin Strader played Will Masters.  Erin Cohenour played Cherie.  Paul Hansen played Dr. Gerald Lyman.  Joe Matthew Steiner played Carl.  Parrish Williams played Virgil Blessing.  Brandon Alstott played Bo Decker.

Christmas Eve…

Last Sunday I had been sick in bed for more than three days.  My body ached, my soul ached, I couldn’t write, and I couldn’t seem to stop crying.

But on Sunday afternoon I dragged myself out of bed and spent time at a party with friends whose love always makes me feel safer and stronger.  If not healed, exactly, then on the mend.

So then I thought, “Hopie, why not see if you can make it in to see the 5 o’clock performance of ‘A Christmas Carol’ at the Indiana Repertory Theatre?  Just to see it, not to write about it.”

I told the man behind the box office counter at the IRT (I think his name was Daniel) that I wanted to do that thing where you show up less than an hour before curtain and get your ticket for half price.  The down side to this bargain, of course, is that you take your chances on where you will sit.  Daniel turned his computer around so that I could see that the show was very nearly sold out.  However, there was a row of four seats near the very back where I might or might not have some elbow room all the way through the show, or a seat in the center near the front in which I would definitely be squooshed by other people in all directions but where I would have an otherwise premium experience of the show.

“Well,” I said. “I’m not going to write about the show, so I don’t have to worry about taking notes, so maybe I’ll try that seat in the middle.”

Ticket Office Manager Molly Wible was behind the counter, too.  She said, “You’re not going to write about the show?”

“No,” I said.  “I seem to have come down with writer’s block, among other things.  Has that ever happened to either of you?”

“Oh, yes!” Molly and Daniel said together. 

I wish I had thought to ask them what kinds of things they write, but I was still focused on myself.  I said, “What do you do when that happens?”

Daniel said, “I just keep trying, just keep showing up.”

Molly said, “I make a necklace or do some other kind of creative thing for a while.”

“Yes,” I said.  “And go to a show just for the pleasure of it, without worrying about what you’re going to say about it afterwards.  I’m hoping that will do the trick for me.”

Molly said, “If you’re not going to write about the show, you should ask Keith if you can watch it from the Observation Booth.  You’d have a lot more room.  I watch shows from there all the time.”

“Keith?” I asked.

“Keith Hunter, our House Manager.  If you like, I’ll go with you to talk with him.”

“Yes, please!”

Keith graciously gave his permission, Molly led the way upstairs, and I found myself in a dark little room with a glass front and maybe a dozen chairs.  It was at the very top and back of the house, behind the balcony seats even, and level with the cat walk where the spot light operators work, but it had a good view of the Main Stage.

There was already one person sitting in the dark little room.  “This is Patrick Clear,” Molly said.  “He is in ‘Love Letters,’ which just opened on the Upper Stage.  Patrick, this is Hope Baugh.  She writes a blog called Indy Theatre Habit.  I’ve got to get back to the Ticket Office.  Enjoy the show!”

I hugged Molly goodbye gratefully and felt my way over to a seat near the window.   I hadn’t yet seen David Alan Anderson costumed by Murell Horton as the Ghost of Christmas Present, but later, when I was looking at the photos for this show, his bountiful gorgeousness in the photo below matched how I was feeling about getting to sit in the Observation Booth:

Patrick mentioned his wife right away, though, which made me roll my eyes and think, “Please.  I’m not going to jump your bones until I at least have my coat off.”  But then I thought that maybe he was trying to reassure me that I was safe with him.  It was, after all, a very intimate, dark, little room.  Or maybe he was just making conversation.  Anyway, after I got settled in, I did feel safe with him.  I found myself wanting to tap him for healing and/or advice, too, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He asked me about my blog and I dug out my card for him to read later.  I said quietly, “I’m not a critic.  I’m not a theatre expert.  I just like writing about my responses to shows.  I share how the shows make me feel and what I think of them.  But in several other parts of my life recently I have been told not to share my feelings at all, to just forget about my feelings, that they don’t matter, and that I should stick to ‘just the facts.’  It’s messing me up as a blogger.”

“That’s the opposite of what the other character says to me in ‘Love Letters!’” Patrick said.  “She tells me I’m only writing to her what I’ve been thinking and doing, not enough about what I’ve been feeling.”

“I’ve seen a community theatre production of ‘Love Letters,’” I said.  “But I can’t remember…how does it end?”

I could hear him smiling in the dark.  “Oh, I’m not going to tell you!  You might want to come see it and then it would be spoiled for you.”

“I do want to see it,” I said.  “I was supposed to come on opening night but I was sick so I had to cancel my media pass.”

“That’s too bad. I hope you can come another night.  It’s a fully staged production, you know.”   (I.e., it is not just two people reading their letters aloud from podiums, the way most theatres do it.)

I did know this about the IRT’s production, and I do want to see it, very much!

I asked Patrick if he ever had a creative block, and if so, what he did about it.  He laughed and said, “The muse needs to show up at 8 o’clock no matter what!”  But then he said, more seriously, that with acting, “there is a whole structure around you. Writing is so solitary!”  He thought it would be very difficult.

“Do you not write yourself?” I asked.

“Oh, I used to be a puppeteer in St. Louis,” (I think that’s where he said it was) “and I would write the occasional script for that, but that’s all.”

I wasn’t in note-taking mode as we talked, so I can’t repeat most of what he shared with me, but it was just what I needed.  He sang me a little song that made me laugh with delight, and we talked some more about the whole facts-vs.-feelings thing.

I said, in my head at least, if not this clearly to Patrick, “I do a lot of fact-checking for my blog and I understand the importance of being able to write differently for different audiences and purposes.  But I think that when I was told to ONLY write about the facts and to forget about my feelings, my feelings’ feelings were hurt, if that makes sense.  I get some of my best, most reliable information from my feelings.  It shouldn’t be facts VS. feelings.  It should be facts AND feelings.”

Patrick said that intuition is important, and that nurturing it, carving time and space for it rather than forcing it or taking it for granted in terms of one’s creativity, is important as well.  (Something like that.)

“It is real,” he said.  (That is a direct quote.  My feelings and I went “Ahh!” and felt re-validated when he said that.)

I am not doing our conversation justice, but it was a pleasure and a blessing to hang out with Patrick Clear even for just those few minutes before “A Christmas Carol” started.

Patrick said that he would have to leave a few minutes before the show ended to catch some transportation to his home in Chicago. (I think that’s where he said he was going.)  He was in the Observation Booth because he wanted to see as much of “Carol” as he could because he had never seen the IRT’s production of it before and he had acted in productions of it himself several times at other theatres.

While we were talking, over the intercom we could hear a voice saying, “Five minutes, please…five minutes” and then, a little later, “Places, please.”  I assume that the voice was the stage manager’s.  It was pretty thrilling, I have to say, to hear that voice and imagine all of the professional actors and crew members taking deep breaths or whatever they do backstage to get ready to go on.

Then Richard J. Roberts, the dramaturg, came out on stage to give the curtain talk.  The glass (Plexiglas?) wall formed more of a barrier than you might expect.  It was odd to watch a live theatre show from behind that clear barrier and know that no one else in the theatre could hear me laugh, for example, or clap, or gasp, or sigh with pleasure.

I don’t think I would want to watch every show from the Observation Booth because one of the things I like best about live theatre is that the experience is usually not buffered much.  I like being physically close to the actors when I can, living the story with them.  However, there was, as Molly had promised, a blissful amount of elbow room. I can’t thank her enough for offering this treat to me.

And the show itself?  Well, you already know that I’m not going to Write About It, not a full review of it, not even if I am visited by the ghost of someone I know, the way Scrooge was:

I promised my feelings I wouldn’t.  But I will say, just between you and me, informally, that the show was wonderful.

It was leaner than I remember from the past two years – faster, less-populated…something – but with nothing essential left out, and therefore completely satisfying because it had been so perfectly distilled.  (By the way, it was directed by Priscilla Lindsay, who is also Patrick Clear’s co-star, which is another reason I want to see “Love Letters.”)

Charles Goad made Scrooge’s transformation as fresh and infectiously joyful as if it truly were the first time Scrooge had ever woken up and found that he still had a chance to celebrate Christmas, and to become the man he truly wanted to be.  Chuck has been playing this role at a million performances every year for ELEVEN YEARS.  I have only seen him perform it three times, but each time it has been a sparkling, virginal gift.  How does he manage it? I wonder.

I was fascinated by Ben Tebbe’s new-this-year portrayal of Bob Cratchit and Constance Macy’s portrayal of Mrs. Cratchit. 

Ben plays Bob as a boyish dreamer, very loving and not at all worn down yet by cares.  You can tell that even though Bob works hard at his job at Scrooge & Marley’s, Mrs. Cratchit gently carries the emotional and psychological weight in their relationship right now.  You can’t help wondering that if nothing changes in terms of their poverty, will she eventually become bitter about this imbalance?   But you can also see why she fell in love with him, and why she doesn’t mind being the matriarch.  And anyway, no one can really understand someone else’s marriage.  I’m not saying I know anything real about the Cratchits’.  It was just fascinating to see it portrayed in a way that felt both authentic and new. 

I love that there can be many right ways to tell an important story.

2009 has been an especially challenging year for me, in many ways.  However, thanks to the love of my family, friends, and co-workers, AND thanks to my involvement with Indianapolis-area theatre, peripheral though my involvement may be, I now feel re-determined, like Scrooge, to live in the past, present, and future, and re-equipped to look to both my facts and my feelings for what I need to live my life.

Merry Christmas to you, if you celebrate Christmas.  And either way, I would like to quote Tiny Tim:  “God bless us, every one!”

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

Follow @IndyTheatre on Twitter.com for at-the-show observations.

P.S. – “Charles’ Dickens’ A Christmas Carol,” adapted by Tom Haas, continues on the Main Stage of the Indiana Repertory Theatre through December 27, 2009.  “Love Letters,” written by A. R. Gurney and directed by Janet Allen, continues on the IRT’s Upperstage through January 17, 2010.  For more information and to make a reservation, please visit www.irtlive.com or call the Ticket Office at 317-635-5252.

P2S2 – All of the photos above were taken by Julie Curry. (www.JulieCurryPhotography.com)  Roll your mouse over each photo to see the actors’ names in the close-ups.  I would have been happy to include a photo or two from “Love Letters,” too, but the fact is: I have not received any yet. 

But guess what!  My program from “Carol” is also the program for “Love Letters.”  It reminded me that Patrick Clear played William Seward and Jefferson Davis in the IRT’s production of “The Heavens Are Hung in Black,” by James Still.  Yet another reason for me to try to find a time to see “Love Letters” before it closes.

HB

Last Sunday afternoon, a new friend and I met at the Phoenix Theatre in downtown Indianapolis to see “A Very Phoenix Xmas 4: Our Stockings Are Stuffed.”  It was conceived and directed by Bryan Fonseca, with musical direction by Kevin D. Smith and technical direction by Christopher Hansen.

In years past, I wrote about Xmas 3 here on my blog, Xmas 2 for Indiana Auditions, and the first one in my private journal. 

Xmas 4 is the best one yet.

Somewhere along the way, someone at the Phoenix told me that the “X” in the show’s title stands for “alternative.”  In other words (and now I am paraphrasing wildly) the Phoenix’s annual holiday show is supposed to be for people who would just as soon X out all of the tired, banal, and/or emotionally manipulative holiday messages that seem to come at them from all sides this time of year.

In the past, I have loved the variety of artistic surprises offered in each Phoenix Xmas show, but I also confess that one or two sketches in some of the earlier shows were just a little too mean-spirited for my taste.

This year’s collection of short plays, songs, dances, videos, etc., though, is more about clearing away the crap than about pointing it out.  It is more about seeing and laughing at the common denominators that make this potentially stressful season funny and fun for all of us, while also acknowledging some of the sacred mysteries in it.

Or, as Lou Harry so perfectly put it in his review of this show for the Indianapolis Business Journal, “(This show, this year) is not a slap at the holidays.  The Phoenix clearly loves Christmas in its own, special way.”

Read the whole review for yourself here:  http://www.ibj.com/oh-christmas-plays-oh-christmas-plays/PARAMS/article/14928

The Journey to Bethlehem

Now, before you get all worried that the Phoenix has sold out somehow, please know that there is still plenty of irreverence in this show.  One short play has a department store Santa being mobbed by angry, right-wing families who think he is a socialist, for example. (“Who Is Kris Kringle?” by Eric Pfeffinger.)

Nor is it all fluff.  One short play has a little girl charmingly but profoundly discussing death and the after-life with a compassionate snow man, for example. (“Death of a Snowman,” by Daniel Guyton.)

Nor is it a “safe, family-friendly” show for Brady Bunch wannabes with little kids.  In one of the short plays, two strangers wake up naked in bed the morning after a holiday party, for example.  (“The Forty-Three Second Kiss,” by Isabella Russell-Ides.)  It is definitely still an adults-only show, thank goodness.

But Bryan Fonseca would be the first to tell you that the subtle switch to a more spiritual focus overall reflects where his own head and heart are now.  I love being in the audience at this point of his life journey with him.

Speaking of Journeys

Before the show on Sunday, assistant director Lori Raffel shared with me a little about what it’s like to work with Bryan.  (I share the following with her permission.)  She told me that:

I guess the most important thing I learned is that he is an actor’s director.  He loves actors and loves working with them and bringing out their best – as individuals and as an ensemble.  When I say that, it seems that all directors must love actors, but that’s not true.  So many times, directors have a vision and they use actors to bring it to life.  To me, Bryan asks the actors to come on the journey with him, so that everyone brings the vision to life.

The members of this show’s ensemble have certainly done that.  Each one of them sparkles in his or her own way, while also blending in perfectly with the rest.  When I try to write specifics about each actor’s performance, I find myself giving away too many spoilers about the contents of the show –  and I promised myself I wouldn’t do that this year – so I’m just going to say that all six cast members are stellar.  I.e., they are all strong actors, strong singers and dancers, and strong storytellers – both verbally and nonverbally.  They are a treat to watch and listen to, both individually and grouped.

The cast includes three newcomers to the Phoenix Xmas tradition:  Jason Gloye, Stephen Hunt, and Amanda Lynn Meyer.  It also includes three veterans:  Sara Riemen, Michael Shelton, and Gayle Steigerwald.

Room at the Inn for New Plays

My press release says that Bryan Fonseca read over 60 short plays from around the country in order to anchor this year’s show with just a few of them.  Then he thought about music and other performance art treats to go with them.  All of the short plays that made it into the show are premieres of one kind or another.  Many are world premieres.

Here are the names of (I think) all of the new short plays and their playwrights:

• “Happy Hannu-Clog,” by Brett Hursey
• “The High Cost of True Love,” by Leonard Joseph Dunham
• “Death of a Snowman,” by Daniel Guyton
• “Who Is Kris Kringle?” by Eric Pfeffinger
• “The Forty-Three Second Kiss,” by Isabella Russell-Ides
•  “Sun Moon Star,” by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut?  Yes.  After the show on Sunday, actress Gayle Steigerwald told me that “Sun Moon Star” was the only children’s story Vonnegut ever wrote and that it is now out of print.  She showed me the picture book that she had bought for her daughter, Jessica, when Jessica was a child.  (Jessica now is grown, has a family of her own, and runs the pub window at the Phoenix.)  The picture book was illustrated by Ivan Chermayeff.  The Phoenix team has adapted it into a new and very special theatre/storytelling piece.  Dani Norberg smoothly runs light and sound for the entire show; the lighting is almost another full character is this particular piece, it is so nimble and dazzling, and yet humble, if that makes sense. (Lighting design by Bryan Fonseca.)

Also after the show on Sunday, Bryan shared with me some of the negotiating that he had done with two or three of the playwrights to make their pieces even more effective.  The whole time he was telling me about this, I was flashing back to a multi-part conversation I had had with a magazine editor years ago who wanted to publish a short story of mine but insisted she couldn’t unless I took out a certain curse word that I had very deliberately included.  I felt bullied, but I really wanted my story published, so I buckled.  I changed the s-word to “manure,” the editor let me keep “orgasmic,” and life went on.

But…ultimately, the editor was right: without the “s-word” jerking their knees, her “Bible-belt” readers felt free to enjoy the story as they read it.  More importantly from my point of view, “manure” was a more surprising, and therefore more interesting, word than “sh*t.” I ended up using “manure” whenever I shared the story aloud with my own audiences, too, so I am glad now that she insisted on my thinking of an alternate word.

So…I sympathize with the Phoenix Xmas 4 playwrights that were asked to make changes, but I also applaud them for being willing to incorporate Bryan’s suggestions.  I think Bryan likes working with writers to bring out their best as much as he likes working with actors to bring out their best.  In any case, each of the short plays in “Xmas 4” seems very tight and good on its own now and also fits perfectly into the whole show.

I loved reading more about Bryan’s process in an interview that Jay Harvey did with him for the Indianapolis Star.  Read it for yourself here:

http://www.indystar.com/article/20091127/ENTERTAINMENT/911270306/Phoenix-returns-with-a-stocking-stuffer

By the way, the chance to experience new plays and new playwrights is one of my favorite things about the Phoenix Xmas shows – and about the Phoenix in general, in fact – but I was also delighted when Bryan told me that they are thinking of doing a “best of” show next year for Xmas 5.  I hope they do!

Design Elements

The set, designed by Bryan Fonseca, Christopher Hansen, and Lori Raffel, features HUGE, foil-wrapped packages set on a beautifully stenciled “skirt” under a HUGE, glittering Christmas tree.  It is fun to feel as if we are Gifted and Talented children on our tummies, imagining what’s in the boxes and counting the days until we get to open them.   Sometimes the presents “unwrap” (i.e. rotate) on their own to reveal the delights of the various stories, songs, and dances while other times the vignettes take place in between the gift boxes.   (Bryan Fonseca is the stage manager, assisted by Brandon Gelvin.)

Karen Witting designed the costumes, which include a fair number of amusing wigs, hillbilly gear, tap shoes, and other unexpected items in addition to a more standard – and just right – cuddly red Santa’s rig.  I was delighted to see in my program that Joan Walker is in charge of props.  I know her name from several Encore Association community theatre shows.  It is a pleasure to see her working with a professional theatre, too.  I don’t know if Joan or Karen was responsible for the 70? pairs of men’s’ boots needed for “Happy Hannu-Clog” (written by Brett Hursey) but they all looked great! What a hoot.

Speaking of tap shoes, Michael Shelton choreographed the show’s dance numbers, including a speed-of-light, sounds-like-hail-or-artillery tap dance.  Tim Brickley designed the sound and produced the music for the show.  It all sounded smooth, well-balanced, and intelligently festive.

The video segments this year are all connected into one story, written by Christopher Hansen, about what it’s like (supposedly) to be a member of the Phoenix staff.  The video series is bizarre and hilarious.  Even videographer Zach Rosing makes an appearance as the camera man who has lost control of the camera. Yikes!

There is also the Phoenix traditional slide show promoting other holiday shows around town.  In keeping with that generous spirit, I would like to link to other reviews of this show so that you can read them all easily.  I have already linked to Jay Harvey’s in the Indianapolis Star and Lou Harry’s in the Indianapolis Business Journal above.  Here are three more:

Read Josefa Beyer’s review, in Nuvo, here:  http://www.nuvo.net/arts/article/very-phoenix-xmas-4-our-stockings-are-stuffed

(Mind you, I disagree almost completely with her assessment.  I think the piece about the strangers bonding over “Rainbow Connection” in a crowded airport is brilliantly executed by the live actors, for example.  And only three stars?  Please.  However, I am still glad that I got to read her take on the show; I hope I will always be able to.)

Read John Belden’s review, in EastofIndy.com, here:

http://s97099322.onlinehome.us/eastofindy/?q=node/532

Read Katelyn Coyne’s thoughts, in the Indianapolis section of FunCityFinder.com, here:

http://indianapolis-indiana.funcityfinder.com/2009/11/30/review-a-very-phoenix-xmas-at-the-phoenix-theatre/

The best thing, of course, is always for you to go yourself and form your own opinion.

FAQ

It has taken me a whole week to write this review, and in the meantime, this show has come up in conversation several times.  Here are some of the questions I have been asked this week, and my answers:

So it’s only about Christmas this year?

No! The sketches that are about a specific holiday are, yes, mostly about Christmas, but many of the sketches are about aspects of the holiday season in general, or about Hannukah.

Okay, but is it funny?  I don’t care if it’s all about Christmas, as long as it’s funny.  Is it funny?

Yes.  It is very funny.

What did your friend think of it?

He had never been to a Phoenix holiday show before.  He said that he enjoyed it, and he called it “gently transformative.”

Do you think I need to make a reservation?

Yes.  Several performances have already sold out.

Is there anything else I need to know about this show?

Well, you probably want to arrive early so that you can check out the items that are up for bids in the silent auction in the lobby.  There is an eclectic mix of items donated by local businesses, artists, and random fans of the Phoenix.

Also, if you choose to sit under the mistletoe, you will get kissed by a cast member.

Box Office

Here’s the scoop from my press release:

A Very Phoenix Xmas 4: Our Stockings Are Stuffed! will be performed on the Phoenix Theatre Mainstage November 27 through December 20, 2009. Performances are Thursdays at 7:00pm, Fridays at 8:00pm, Saturdays at 8:00pm and Sundays at 2:00pm. Thanks to the generosity of Duke Energy, our CheapSeats performances have expanded to Thursdays and Sundays, so our prices for the Xmas show and the entire 2009-2010 Season will be $15.00 per person on Thursdays and Sundays. In response to the economy, and because we know that there are only so many entertainment dollars to go around, we are offering a discounted rate of $20.00 per person on Fridays and Saturdays (down from $25.00 last season). The Phoenix will continue to offer a youth rate of $15 for those 24 and under.  

Tickets for all Phoenix Theatre shows may be purchased by calling the box office at 317.635.PLAY (7529) or may be charged on-line at phoenixtheatre.org. All seating is general admission on a first-come, first-served basis. The Phoenix Pub, located inside the theatre, offers beer, wine, soft drinks, coffee, and bottled water, as well as treats, and all refreshments may be taken into either theatre and consumed during the performance. 

For more information about any Phoenix programs or to purchase tickets, call the Phoenix Theatre box office at 317.635.PLAY(7529). The theatre’s website is www.phoenixtheatre.org. 

********** 

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter.

P.S. – Photo above is by Julie Curry.  The cast (left to right) includes: Stephen Hunt, Amanda Lynn Meyer, Michael Shelton, Sara Riemen, Jason Gloye, and Gayle Steigerwald.

Last Sunday afternoon I drove to the Indy Fringe Building in downtown Indianapolis to see a production of “Curse of the Starving Class,” by Sam Shepard.  There is only one “the” in the title.  It was directed by Gregory Howard and produced by him and Kari Ann Stamatoplos as a labor of love.

I don’t think this chewy, for-adults-only, three-act play about a dysfunctional family that loses its farm gets produced very often, so I am very glad that I got to see it.  The poetry in Sam Shepard’s writing was an unexpected pleasure.  The production itself resonated with me on many levels and stimulated all of my senses.  Technically, I guess, this play is a downer, but there are several funny parts and I didn’t leave feeling only depressed.  I also left feeling eager to talk about the play, and eager to think about it in terms of my own life and in terms of American society.  There is something paradoxically uplifting about witnessing truth told well, with all its layers, even if the truth itself is upsetting. 

After the show I got a chance to chat with the director a bit.  Greg told me that when this play premiered in New York in 1978, the audiences there didn’t get it because its rural setting and its story were so foreign to them.  “The critics thought it was a melodrama,” he said.  “But now (with the current economic situation), everyone gets it.  It is even more relevant today.”

Greg’s own family lost their Indiana farm in 1979, due to banks changing the way they did business with small farms.  It is still hard for him to talk about, but it is the reason he has long felt drawn to this script.

“Sam Shepard speaks to all Americans,” Greg told me. “He really speaks to us.”

I agree.  This Sam Shepard piece feeds me in that it speaks to the many kinds of hunger in American families and American society, and to the difficulty of getting past the past.  Moving forward is not always as simple as just (hah!) “letting go” of the past. Sometimes the consequences of generations have to be played out first.

Oh, this show is heart-wrenching and thought-provoking.  I wish I had time to see it again!

Obie Award Winner

The press release that I received from Greg and Kari Ann says that “Curse of the Starving Class” is an Obie winner.  I confess that I did not know what that meant.  According to http://obies.villagevoice.com/, “Every May, the Village Voice Obie Awards celebrate excellence and achievement in Off-Broadway theatre.” Easier-on-the eyes info can also be found here:  http://www.villagevoice.com/obies/about.

In other words, the Obies are to Off-Broadway what the Tony Awards are to Broadway.

The people who decide which plays go to Broadway might not have fully appreciated this play when it premiered, but the judges at the Village Voice named it “The Best New American Play” that year.

Set as Storyteller

The set for this production was designed by David Strohmeyer and constructed by John Joyner and Matthew Ballinger.  It engages the audience even before any actors appear.  It is mostly black and white.  A black curtain hangs at the back of a black-painted stage.  On the curtain hangs an over-sized black-and-white photo of a pasture.

In contrast, the isolated furniture pieces are almost all a grubby white: an ancient Fridgidaire; a chipped enamel stove that serves only to hold a hot plate; a battered, silver metal-rimmed table; mismatched, white-stained wooden chairs and a bench.

One of the chairs is tipped over.  At the steps leading into the kitchen is a pile of broken lumber – pieces of what used to be a door.  In front of the raised stage, at the level of the audience, is a rusty red wheelbarrow.

“I’ll Fly Away” and other toe-tapping Bluegrass music plays as the audience members find their seats and wonder what happened earlier in this kitchen. (Sound design by Chris Burton.)

The Day Before and the Day Before and the Day Before…

As the play opens, we find out.  Ella, the weary-furious mother of the family, (played with impressive nuances by Gail Bray) last night locked the door on her drunken husband, Weston (John Joyner), and he, in his rage, broke through it.  Now it is morning and he is gone again.  Their teenaged son, Wesley (Matthew Ballinger), is starting to try to repair the door.  Ella, defiantly indifferent, takes some Wonder Bread and a few other supplies from the fridge and begins making breakfast for herself while she matter-of-factly compares her son’s penis to her father’s.  Steam rises from her coffee cup and the smell of bacon frying wafts over the audience.  Each piece of wood that Wesley throws into the wheelbarrow makes a sound as loud as a gunshot. (Kristin Montgomery is props mistress.)

The lights change and Wesley shares with the audience his own splintered recollection of what happened the previous night, based on what he heard from his bedroom.  Then, as the lights change back and he and his mother interact some more, we begin to realize that last night was only the most recent unhappy night in twenty-some years’ worth during this family’s existence on this farm.

The barely teenaged daughter of the family, Emma (Stacey Marie Sipos), enters wearing a sort of Girl Scout uniform and carrying some hand-made charts and posters.

Emma cringes at her mother’s touch as Ella hugs her and tells her that now that she has got her first menstrual period, she should know not to use tampons or sanitary napkins from public restrooms because they are not actually sanitary and you should only put sanitary things “down there.”   Ella discusses Emma’s menstruation with Wesley, too.  Even with her mother’s inappropriateness, though, Emma is bubbly with excitement over her 4-H project: a demonstration of how to cut up a chicken for frying.  That is what the posters are for. (Light and Sound Board Operator Judy Lombardo was also the Chicken Chart Artist.)

But when Emma goes to the fridge, the chicken she had put there to demonstrate with is gone.  Her mother has boiled it and eaten it.

“Take your screaming outside,” Ella tells her.  “I will have no screaming in this house.”  After Emma screams her way out of the house and through the audience, headed down to the stable so she jump on her horse and run away from home, Wesley unzips his pants and pisses on the posters, which are now on the floor by the empty fridge.

“Eww!” the audience thinks.  “What kind of family IS this?”

A cursed one, apparently.

When the father does come stumbling home through the audience, still drunk and frightening, he unpacks a whole grocery bag of artichokes (and nothing but artichokes) into the empty fridge because that is what a man does: he “provides groceries for his family.”

 “Not That Bad Off”

Everyone who comes into the kitchen looks in the refrigerator with hope and yearning and is disappointed.  Yet “we’re not the starving class,” someone in the family says at one point. “We’re not that bad off.”   Someone even says, “We’re doing okay without a front door.”  People sleep on the kitchen table and there is nothing nourishing in the fridge.  No one respects anyone else’s boundaries.  But things could be worse.

Couldn’t they?

It is amazing what you can get used to, and amazing that what you get used to becomes normal.

Desperation and Hopelessness – How Can This End?

And yet…”normal” is not good enough.  They are not doing okay.

Both the mother and the father have plans to sell the farm behind the other’s back.  Both dream of escape but neither seems capable of doing it.  Ella has pinned her hopes on the promises of Taylor (Jim Lucas), a slimy-slick speculator, who says she doesn’t need her husband’s signature in order to sell.  Weston doesn’t remember at first that he already sold the farm to his brassy bartender, Ellis (David Eckard), for a few bucks to get some murder-threatening loan sharks, Emerson (Chris Burton) and Slater (Mark P. Jackson), off his back.  Stage manager Jacqueline Wheat plays Sgt. Malcolm, a law enforcement officer who comes to tell the parents that their daughter is in jail.

“How can all this possibly end?” I wondered in the third act.  I am not going to tell you how it ends, but I will tell you that the ending monologue, though depressing, is vivid and satisfying.

One Quibble

So…I loved the set and other production elements (and there are other wows/ewws/oh my’s that I haven’t told you about!)  - I would have paid the $10 admission just to see them.  I also loved being introduced to this playwright and, as I said earlier, I am very glad to have had the chance to see this award-winning script performed.  Four days later, I’m still chewing on it.  I thought the acting was sometimes a tad uneven – either because an actor wasn’t fully grounded in his or her lines yet or because an actor was so enjoying watching what else was going on on stage that he or she wasn’t fully inhabiting his or her own character – but each actor’s performance also included some very powerful moments and moving interactions with the other characters.  In any case, it was all well-directed and all of the acting was effective enough to keep me involved with the story.

My only real quibble is this (and it is a small one, even for a quibble):

The house lights don’t come up for intermission after either Act One or Act Two.  I understand that keeping the lights off might keep the energy from dissipating and might keep people from leaving the story too much, but it is confusing to be still sitting in the dark after the first act, watching the stage manager mop up the urine from the kitchen floor and wondering if now is when you are supposed to find the restroom yourself.  The intermission bluegrass music, while lovely, is not enough of a cue.  I think if the house lights (not the stage lights) came up at intermission, people would still come back and dig back into the story after they had bought a beer at the table by the box office or stretched their legs or whatever.

But, as I say, this is just a quibble.  For the most part, this was a very satisfying afternoon at the theatre.

Box Office

There are no performances this weekend, but “Curse of the Starving Class” will be performed again at 8pm on Friday, December 4, 8pm on Saturday, December 5, and 3pm on Sunday, December 6, 2009.  All performances are at the IndyFringe Building: 719 East St. Clair Street, Indianapolis, IN.  (The building is a renovated church just east of the intersection of College Avenue and Massachusetts Avenue.)  Please call 317-522-1945 to make a reservation.  Tickets are $10 at the door, cash only.

I should also tell you that the show contains brief nudity – a beautiful body in a sad situation.

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

(Photo above is by Kari Ann Stamatoplos.  Matthew Ballinger is on the left, Gail Bray on the right.)

Last Friday night I drove north to Clay Terrace shopping center in Carmel, Indiana, to see the inaugural production of the 16-year-old, all-volunteer Carmel Community Players in their new space, the Carmel Community Playhouse.

It was a thrilling experience, not only because the new space is so nifty but also because the acting in this particular production is exceptional.  And by “exceptional acting” I don’t just mean in terms of community theatre.   The acting, especially the pacing, in this show is excellent by anyone’s standards.

The Show

The show is “Rabbit Hole,” David Lindsey-Abaire’s 2007 Pulitzer Prize winner.  It is a moving, thought-provoking, even surprising and funny piece about the changing dynamics in a family that has lost a young boy to a traffic accident.  Ken Klingenmeier directed it for the Carmel Community Players.  Lori Raffel produced it and designed the programs and posters for it.  Donna Klingenmeier is the stage manager. 

I have seen and loved two professional productions of this piece – first at the Curious Theatre in Denver, Colorado and more recently at our own Indiana Repertory Theatre in downtown Indianapolis.  Both of those theatres are relatively large.  CCP’s new space is smallish and quite intimate.  This means that the set (which was designed, built, and decorated by the director) feels more like an apartment than a huge suburban house, but both the humor and the pain in the interactions of the characters feel more personal.  We feel even more powerfully how much they all love each other and yet how distanced they are from each other emotionally now, even when they are physically close to each other.

The pacing, as I said earlier, is impeccable.  After the show, I interviewed the director in a little video via my iPhone (see above) and after that, Ken and I chatted for a few more minutes about the rehearsal process. 

“I tell the actors that I’m Mr. Pace,” he told me.  “Good pacing is what’s missing in a lot of community theatre.  If you don’t talk to the actors about pace, they will just languish in what they’re feeling.”  He said that a conversation in real life, like the one he and I were having just then, would probably not make for good theatre because (I think he meant) it was just between us.  No one else was listening; we weren’t trying to keep anyone else engaged in our conversation or to present it as art. 

“What else do you tell actors about pace?” I asked.

Ken said he tells them that if they can just start a scene with the right energy and then “ride the shape of the scene,” they’ll be okay.    

(He actually explained it better and in more detail to me, but by then I had already put away my iPhone and my notebook and I was pretty much dead on my feet from a busy week at my day job so I don’t have more of a direct quote.  ‘Sorry.)

Whatever he told the five actors in this show, it worked.

Each actor fully and beautifully explores the complexity of his or her character, too.  Jennifer Nelson plays Becca, the mother of the little boy who died.  At the beginning of the play, she seems quite cold and controlling.  Doug Powers plays Howie, the little boy’s father.  At the beginning of the play, he seems warm, sympathetic, and virtuous.  Lacy Marie Meyer plays Izzy, Becca’s younger sister.  At the beginning of the play, she seems like a ditz.  Vickie Cornelius-Phipps plays Nat, Becca and Izzy’s mother.  At the beginning of the play, she seems like an alcoholic mess.

Each of these characters changes subtly over time and in unexpected ways.  The actors’ portrayals of them are nuanced and very believable!

The fifth character is Jason, the teenager that was driving the car that hit the little boy when he ran out into the street after his dog.  Matthew Lindblom, too, makes us completely believe in, and feel sympathy for, his character, even though we also feel sympathy for the little boy’s family. 

At intermission, I chatted a bit with a woman sitting near me who told me her name was Laura.  Laura told me that she especially admired Matthew’s ability to be so convincing in his first scene, in which he is alone in a spotlight facing the audience, being the voice that Becca hears when she reads his letter to her and Howie.

“It’s really hard, I think, for an actor to be convincing when he’s all by himself like that,” my seat-neighbor said.  “He doesn’t have any other actors to play off of.  But he (Matthew) was really good!”

Speaking of the spot light, Adam Hysong designed the lighting for the show.  Ken Klingenmeier designed the sound, which includes some good, natural-sounding recordings of the dog barking in the back yard, and some elegant, perfectly mood-matching pieces of woodwind music for in between the scenes.  Mike Harold is the lighting & sound operator.  For the performance I saw, he seemed to nail every cue perfectly, including the ones connected to lights and other appliances being turned off by the characters.

Joan Walker is in charge of the props, which include a large number of food items.  Joan told me after the show Friday night that “Eileen the Cake Lady” (and if someone tells me Eileen’s full name again, I will insert it here – I don’t find it listed in the program) donates a new, delicious birthday cake for every performance.  The characters eat slices during the show, and then everyone else eats the rest afterwards.  Yum!

(Update:  The “Cake Lady” is Ilene McHone, of Classic Cakes on 116th St. just east of Range Line Road.  Thanks, Joan, for the info!)

The Space

CCP’s Marketing/PR Director, Brian Koning (www.btkmarketing.com) gave the curtain talk before the show began on Friday night.  He told us that the new space was a result of more than 2000 volunteer hours over ten weeks, plus a long list of donations-in-kind from a wide variety of local business partners – everything from help with the programs from Regal Printing to help with the intermission cookies from Paradise Bakery to help with the set dressing from Luxe Home Interiors.

More than one person told me at intermission that the space used to be a scrapbooking store.  The previous tenants had left it in good shape, but CCP had to do a lot of work to make it their own, including building the stage itself. 

The energy of the new place – transformed by all this tender, loving care – is marvelous. You walk in and immediately feel glad to be there, and as if you lucked out, or something, on where you chose to spend your evening.  The ceiling and its wide pipes are painted black.  They provide a hip, arty contrast to the bright, clean, cozy performance space down below.  Framed posters from past CCP productions line the hallway to the restrooms.  On the back wall of the house is ample space for visual art exhibits.  Currently on display are several works by Richard Williams, Karla Ries, and Michael Ries.  Their collective is called Art Is Relative.

My favorite feature of the new space is the long row of coat hooks that runs along the back wall under the art exhibit.  No more feeling crushed or overheated by your coat during a show!

I asked Laura, my row-mate, if she had ever been to previous CCP productions.

“No,” she said.  “My husband and I used to go to Mud Creek Theatre years ago when we lived near there, but we haven’t been to any theatre since we moved up here.”

“How did you find out about this theatre?”  I was curious.

“I saw it driving by one day and thought it looked like a neat idea.  And then I read about it in the paper, and we just decided to give it a try.  We’ll definitely be back.”

So will I.  For one thing, in addition to the wonderful theatrical experience I had at the show on Friday night, I very much appreciate the fact that Brian Koning takes me seriously as a busy theatre writer.  I.e. – he regularly emails me press releases about what is going on and what is coming up at the Carmel Community Playhouse so that I don’t have to go digging around for the information on other websites.  Also, when I asked him for media passes to “Rabbit Hole,” he didn’t blink an eye.  Tickets are only $15 ($12 for students and seniors.)  I cherish the respect that a media pass represents to me much more than the monetary value. 

For another thing, a few years ago I bought a house in Carmel.  Mind you, I don’t think of Carmel as my theatre home in any way.  If I have ever had a theatre home, it was the Phoenix Theatre in downtown Indianapolis years ago.  At one point in the late 1980s, before the Phoenix became a professional theatre, I volunteered there as an actor, assistant director, stage manager, etc.  But, as I say, that was years ago.  Indy Theatre Habit is my theatre home now, and through this blog I try to sample theatre from all around the Indianapolis area and surrounding counties. 

Still, I love knowing that there is an excellent little theatre group doing its vital, creative, community-building thing just minutes from my house.

The Future

“Rabbit Hole” only has one more weekend, or four more performances (Thursday-Sunday through October 25, 2009.)  Visit www.carmelplayhouse.org to make a reservation online. 

The rest of CCP’s first season in their new space, after their Holiday Show, will be four more Pulitzer Prize winners.  Other arts groups will use the space, too.  For example (Brian told us), the professional Actors Theatre of Indiana will present its production of “My Way” at the Carmel Community Playhouse beginning November 4, 2009.  On November 21, 2009, the Indiana Filmmakers group will hold its “Wet Your Pants Comedy Film Fest” as a fundraiser for the Kidney Foundation.

A Word about How to Find the New Space

The Carmel Community Playhouse website tells you how to get to Clay Terrace, which is an outdoor shopping mall with three or four driving round-abouts.  The main entrance to the Playhouse is on the main drag of the mall, but you want to find the roundabout by Old Navy clothing store and Bar Louie restaurant so that you can swirl around behind Bar Louie (heading away from Old Navy) and park in that parking lot.  The lot is spacious and well lit. (Yay!) Get out of your car and walk to the front of Bar Louie, turn right and walk past Jimmy Johns restaurant and then you’re at the Playhouse.  Easy!

‘See you at the theatres…

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on www.Twitter.com and www.YouTube.com/IndyTheatreHabit.

Oh, my, the final Saturday of the 2009 Indy Fringe Festival here in Indianapolis, Indiana was sublime.  The weather was glorious, so the walks between theatres were almost as invigorating as the shows themselves.  Plus, I spent most of the day with my theatre buddy, Adrienne Reiswerg, which I always enjoy.

Best of all, the day included a satisfying mix of shows that ended with one of the most exhilarating theatrical experiences of my life: the 10:30pm performance of “Waiting with M. Godot,” by Ronn Johnstone.  The light-hearted yet profound script about love and relationships was a treat to begin with, and in that particular sold-out performance, both the actors and the audience were “in the zone.”  Kurt Owens as the rudely mystical waiter, Monsieur Godot, and Nick Foreman as the sexy but overly-concerned-with-perfection Jaxon – a man who is waiting in a fancy restaurant to propose marriage to his girlfriend – were exquisitely hilarious.  The beautiful but “loud” girlfriend, Dani, was charmingly played by Lisa Ermel.

I know that “magical” is a cliché when it comes to writing about theatre, but this truly was.

No one wanted to leave the Theatre on the Square’s second stage area afterwards, including me, so I made three more little videos.   One is the one you see above, with the director, Steve Pierce.  Unfortunately, the one I made with actor Nick Foreman by himself did not record.  (Hope, darn it: the little red light has to be blinking!) However, I’m not sure you would have been able to hear him anyway because the still-packed theatre was very noisy then.  So I’ll just tell you that this exceptional actor is a cutie in real life, too, and based in Chicago.

Here he is with Kurt – who was already one of my favorite actors and who now is even higher in my esteem! – a little bit later:

I am tempted to let “Waiting with M. Godot” be the last show I see at this year’s Fringe because it left me feeling so high on theatre and life in general.

Well, while I think about that some more, let me tell you about the other three shows I saw on Saturday, in the order I saw them:

“Selections from the Spoon River Anthology” -

This was an interesting collection of related monologues written by Edgar Lee Masters, directed by Breshaun Joyner, and produced by Starrynight Productions out of Bloomington, Indiana. 

Projected on the screen at the back of the Earth House stage there was a huge slide of a black-and-white photo of headstones at a cemetery.  Ten actors came out one by one at the beginning and took their positions to form a sort of tableau.  They wore old-timey clothes except for their feet, which were bare.  We came to understand that they were the memories of the people buried in the cemetery.  They were all former citizens of a place called Spoon River.  One by one, we heard a little about how they had lived and died.  Some of the actors pulled on jackets, shawls, or other costume elements to become more than one character. 

Not all of their stories were gentle, by any means, but the overall effect was one of gentle timelessness.  “Remember us,” the characters all said, in so many words, even as they were fading away.

Neither Adrienne nor I knew anything about the book on which the play is based, but now we are both planning to see if we can borrow The Spoon River Anthology from our local libraries.

“A Cynic Tells Love Stories” -

Katherine Glover is a solo performer based in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota.  In this piece, she shared several personal stories of love, lust, heart break, and hope. 

There is always a danger with personal stories that the audience will feel as if they are witnessing the teller’s therapy rather than participating in the bringing to life of stories that have universal themes.  The first is almost always a yucky experience for the audience but the second can be transformative, or at least enjoyable, for all concerned.

Katherine’s telling style and the content of her stories are both very confessional, but what made this piece enjoyable art for me instead of make-me-squirm therapy were three things:

• Her basic story crafting was skillful. For example, the way Katherine shaped and combined the elements of her stories was pleasing and easy to follow. This rarely happens by accident or “off the cuff.”
• The combination of bravery, wisdom, and humbleness that came across in her telling style was both appealing and thought-provoking. And completely relatable, at least for me. And Adrienne said later over dinner, “Didn’t you just want to stop and talk about something she had said every few lines or so?!”
• Her content was unique. Maybe I lead a sheltered life, but this was only the second time for me to hear a bisexual woman’s stories in a public setting, and my first time ever to hear a bisexual’s stories in a solo storytelling piece at the Fringe.

It took a while for the audience to warm to Katherine, I think, but by the end we were right there with her.  I think the connection would have happened sooner if the house lights had been up, or at least not so completely dark and theatrical.  Monologues are fine, but the most powerful storytelling happens when the Fourth Wall is truly eliminated and the teller can see the faces of her listeners as she tells.

“The Stetson Manifesto” -

Adrienne sat this one out.  I wanted to see it because the director, Jim Lucas, has been very supportive of my blog, and because I had seen and enjoyed the work of two of the three actors in several other shows.

I’m glad I saw it, but I have to say that it is probably the most depressing of all the Fringe shows I’ve seen this year. 

An experienced cowboy named Catfish (Bill Becker) is told by his young co-worker, Rory (     ), that he has to wear a helmet on the range now instead of his beloved Stetson hat because one of the other ranch hands fell off his horse and won a suit against the Cattleco corporation.   Rory is respectful of Catfish, but Catfish is still having a hard time with all of the changes that have taken place since Cattleco took over the ranch.   One of the ranch’s middle managers, Bobby (Carrie Fedor), has zero sympathy for Catfish and is ready to fire him to make room for more malleable people like Rory, who “get the big picture.”

There are some good laughs in this piece, but overall it is just plain bleak, especially since no one, not even the manager, is truly happy with what they’re doing.

**********

But as I say, I ended my evening with “Waiting with M. Godot” and that experience made me high on life and love.

This whole 2009 Indy Fringe Festival has been that way, really.  An exceptionally enjoyable experience.  This year I paced myself pretty well (or better than the first two years, anyway) and I didn’t (and don’t!) feel guilty about not seeing and writing about every show.  No one can, not even the staff at Nuvo!  I saw and wrote about 28 shows even though I had to work at my day job for part of the week.  That is not bad, Hopie.  Not bad at all.

I also learned some satisfying new things about blogging, micro-blogging, video-making, audience development, and iPhones.

I also avoided clueless, unavailable heartbreakers this Fringe.  Never mind the details.  I will just tell you that that made a WORLD of difference in my ability to relax and enjoy everything and everyone else.  Who knew?

I also met a wide variety of amazing performance artists and other people that caressed my heart, stimulated my mind, and shared an incredible array of gifts with me.

What a great week it’s been.

So now I think I will head back downtown for the last day of the 2009 Indy Fringe Festival after all.  Today, though, I’m leaving my media pass in my purse and not writing about any of the shows I see.   Performers I see today won’t get a review from me, but they will get ten dollars.

Life is good.

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter and IndyTheatreHabit on YouTube.

(FYI:  the above video is a conversation with Erin Schlabach, director of one of my favorite 2009 Indy Fringe shows, “Crossing the Bridge.”  Scroll down to see other videos embedded in the post below.)

One day last week during the 2009 Indy Fringe Festival here in Indianapolis, Indiana, juggler Brent McCoy told me, “The audience is like a monster: if you treat it right, it will roll over and let you tickle its belly.”

Brent’s show, “Blunder Construction,” is one of, if not the most, popular shows at the Fringe.  Last night there were more than a hundred people lined up outside Theatre on the Square (TOTS), hoping to get in to Brent’s show.

I had been feeling proud of myself for trying something new with my blog (i.e. – video content) but I realized suddenly that I had not been handing out my blog card this year the way I did last year.  I hadn’t even taken little piles of cards around to the theatre lobbies.

So when I arrived at TOTS last night to see “Tortillo” on its second stage, and I saw all those people waiting outside to see “Blunder Construction” on the main stage, I decided it was time for me to tickle the beast a bit myself.

I made my way down the line saying, “Hi, my name’s Hope.  May I give you my card?  I write about Indianapolis area theatre year-round.  I hope you’ll visit my blog.” 

One man said, “You write about what?  Beer?”

“Well, no, but I interviewed someone today who sells beer in the Fringe tent.”

“Okay, I’ll read your blog.”

Another man said, “Have you seen ‘The Worst Show in the Fringe’?  Hey, wait a minute, were you IN that show?”

I laughed and said, “No, but that could have been me tied up in the chair.  I’m a reviewer.”

“I LOVED that show!”  He told me quite a bit about it, and when I asked if he was a theatre person, he said, “No, but I loved that show.  You should write about it on your blog.”

As a matter of fact, I enjoyed “The Worst Show in the Fringe,” too.  I wrote about it in a previous post.

I had a good time talking with the people in line, and I think I might be able to get used to “flier-ing,” as the Fringe performers call it (I call it “schmoozing”), but it makes me feel turned inside out, so I’m glad I don’t have to do it every day the way they do.

I saw three shows last night and spent one time slot hanging out at the FringeCentral Outdoor Stage, aka the big, striped tent near the intersection of College and Mass Aves.  I made a few more little videos (see above and below.) I also put my iPhone away for a while and enjoyed the live music on the stage, which was that night sponsored by the Indianapolis Songwriters Café.  All you need to get in to the tent is your Fringe Backer Button, which you can purchase at the tent for three dollars.

One of the little videos is of a conversation with the director of one of my favorite 2009 Indy Fringe shows, “Crossing the Bridge.”  (See above.)  Erin Schlabach was kind enough to let me try interviewing her again, since the recorded conversation we had had right after I saw  ”Crossing the Bridge” last weekend did not actually record.  I apparently pushed the button too many times.  What can I say?  I was still shaking from that wonderfully cathartic show!

Last night I also recorded a conversation with vocalist April Armstrong.  She and actor Daniel Robert were selling two kinds of beer inside the tent.  She had only had a chance to see one Fringe show so far – “Tortillo” – because of working in the tent, but she loved it.

Here’s April:

Then I asked Justin Brady from the Indy Fringe administrative staff if I could record a portion of the live music and he said, “Sure!” 

“Wait,” I said.  “Have you actually asked the musicians?”

“Oh, don’t worry: they’ll be fine with it.”

They looked surprised, though, when I lifted my iPhone, so I hope it truly is okay.  Nifty as the iPhone is, it does not give you anything like the experience of actually being present with the live music and the sound is nothing like the sound that musicians can produce for a professional demo in a recording studio.

I recorded two songs each from the Cliff Snyder Band and from Tad Armstrong.  I enjoyed both groups.  (Please go to www.YouTube.com/IndyTheatreHabit to watch those four videos.)

I also recorded a bit of a performance by a busker (street performer) named Preston Long.  He was playing his electric guitar and singing “The Thrill is Gone” a little farther down on Massachusetts Avenue, right on the sidewalk.  To my delight, Indianapolis Business Journal Arts and Entertainment editor Lou Harry made a surprise appearance in that video. 

Here is Preston:

And here, finally, are a few of my thoughts on the three Fringe shows I saw last night, in the order I saw them:

“The Rise of General Arthur” -

The name of performer Phillip Andrew Bennett Low’s production company is Maximum Verbosity.  His retelling of the King Arthur legend as a modern military tale is, indeed, verbose.  I enjoyed it very much, and the program says it is a work in progress, so I’m going to break my usual “appreciations only” approach to reviewing and make an observation that I guess is actually a suggestion to the performer, to do with what he will.

If Phillip were in one of my storytelling classes I would tell him that editing a piece that you want people to listen to is different from editing a piece that you want people to read.  For most people, listening to words is much harder work than reading them.  Storytellers work with language-rich literary tales all the time, but the best tellers don’t memorize the whole thing.  They memorize the language that makes the piece unique and then use their other tools (tone of voice, accents, facial expressions, gestures, stances, responsiveness to the audience, removal of the Fourth Wall, etc.) to make it come alive for their listeners.

In other words, they cut out all the “he-said-she-said.” 

Phillip has all of those other storytelling tools in spades, so he doesn’t have to say, for example, “‘Take it easy,’ barked Pellinor roughly.”  All he needs to do is bark the line.

The strongest parts of “The Rise of General Arthur” come when Philip takes us off the page.  He does a great job of physically and vocally delineating the many characters in his stories, even when they are in direct conversation with each other.  I was never confused about who was who.  My favorite character was Merlin: Philip’s interpretation of him reminded me of the Chesire Cat.  However, I was partial to Pellinor’s southern mama, too, and, of course, our soldier hero, Pellinor, himself.

In any case, the show as is, is worth seeing simply because the collection of inter-connected literary stories is as rich and interesting as an illuminated medieval manuscript.

(Side note: I’d also like to give a shout out to Phoenix Theatre tech person Dani Norberg.  The very loud gunshot in this intricate piece was perfectly timed!)

“Tortillo” -

This new play by Casey Ross is having its world premiere here at the 2009 Indy Fringe Festival.  As I’ve mentioned before, Casey’s “Gallery” piece in the 2007 Indy Fringe was the first Fringe show I’d ever seen.  I saw it three times, I loved it so much.

“Tortillo” is not quite as satisfying to me as “Gallery” was.  It is not as tightly-plotted and some of the humor seems to come out of nowhere and go nowhere.

HOWEVER, I laughed a lot during “Tortillo” last night – deep, belly laughs – and I enjoyed the performances of the actors.   (There was no program, though, so I can’t tell you for sure who they all are.)

So many people have come up to me and told me this play is like a cross between “The Office” and “Scooby-Do” that I can not tell you who said it first, but I agree that it is an apt description.

“Tortillo” sold out last night at Theatre on the Square, so if you want to see it tonight or tomorrow afternoon, be sure to get there early.

I’m looking forward to seeing Casey’s next play, too.

“Sex/Death” -

The Bloomington Playwrights Project presents this collection of seven very short plays related to some aspect of the title theme.   Oh, my, this is one powerful show.

It is where’s-my-fan sexy and laugh-out-loud funny, in turns.  It is also sometimes very disturbing, even macabre.  Each little play offers a completely satisfying and often surprising story.  Taken all together, they are a theatrical jewel box, perfectly arranged.

I should probably warn you that the creepiest of the short plays includes male frontal nudity and bondage for an extended time.  I wanted to curl up in the fetal position after that one.

Four exceptional actors – Derrick Krober, Ian McCabe, Margot Morgan, and Erin Sullivan – play all of the roles.

Here, from the program, are the plays and their playwrights:

• “100% Distracted” – by Joni McGary
• “Alibi” – by Matthew Haldeman
• “The Edge” – by L. D. Goffigan
• “Beware the Living Will” – by Henry Meyerson
• “Thanksgiving” – by Neal Utterback
• “Thursday Routine” – by Rebecca Martin
• “Sex, Death” – by Nick Moore

This plays again at the Theatre on the Square main stage today (Saturday) and tomorrow.

Please see www.indyfringe.org for all show times.

Right now it is time for me to head downtown for my final meeting as an Encore Association community theatre judge, and then I am meeting my friend, Adrienne, to see a few more Fringe shows. 

Thanks for reading and watching.  ‘See you at the Fringe!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com, @IndyTheatre on Twitter, and IndyTheatreHabit on YouTube.

Last night, after I got off work from my day job, I drove to Massachusetts Avenue in downtown Indianapolis to see the 2009 Indy Fringe Festival Parade and Preview Party.

I got there too late for the main part of the parade, but lots of people were still walking as parade followers so I fell in with them and headed towards the “Fringe Central Outdoor Stage” aka that big, striped tent at the intersection of College Ave and Mass Ave. 

The woman walking next to me said “Hello” and asked if I had ever been to the Fringe before.  I said yes, this was my third time.

“How about you?” I asked.

“Nobody I know has ever heard of it before.  I work part-time in a flower shop and all day today I was asking people if they knew what this Fringe Festival thing was, and no one knew.”

“Well,” I said.  “I’m glad you came anyway.  I bet you will have a great time.”

By then we were at the Fringe tent and people started handing us show postcards and saying, “Hi, Hope!” and I started saying, “Hi!  This is my new friend, Mittie!” and then we both, I think, started feeling overwhelmed by all the attention so we found seats inside the tent.

Mittie asked if I wanted to hang with her before she found out that “everyone knows Hope” (which is not true, but I can see why it might have felt that way to her last night.)  I hope she doesn’t regret starting up a conversation with me.  I had a great time hanging out with her.

I thought she would be an interesting first person to interview for my new little video journaling project, but I didn’t want to be one of those obnoxious people who record everything for the future instead of being awake and appreciative in the present, so I didn’t say anything to Mittie about my new iPhone.

But then a young man came up to me and said, “Are you Hope?  I was in The Scottish Play at the IRT and you wrote about me on your blog.  Thank you!”  It was Evan McCullough and I did enjoy and write about the Indiana Repertory Theatre’s production of “Macbeth” last year.  Evan played  a Young Soldier and Donalbain, Duncan’s son .

On the spur of the moment, then, I asked Evan if I could record him telling me about his FringeNext show, “Check Please 2.”  He agreed!  I’m afraid my very first 2009 Video Fringe Journal entry is too dark because we were inside the tent, but you can at least hear Evan’s voice and it was a good learning experience for me.  Thanks, Evan, for helping me, and break a leg with your FringeNext show this week!

(FringeNext, in case you don’t already know, refers to the youth theatre part of the Fringe – i.e., shows put on by high school and college students, usually under the sponsorship of their school or home theatre.  This year, all of the FringeNext shows are in the Fringe Building – a white, renovated church building just east of the intersection of College and Mass Aves.)

I am going to write about the actual show previews in a separate post.  I came home all excited about the shows, but then I stayed up way too late making my introduction video and uploading it to my new YouTube account.

However, I think I am now good to go as an informal video blogger (vlogger?) so if you want to look over my shoulder as I try this new thing, please subscribe to “IndyTheatreHabit” on YouTube.  Or, if you don’t want to set up your own YouTube account, just go to that link every once in a while to see what I’ve uploaded recently.  I hope to just record, trim, and upload little videos throughout the day while I’m doing the Fringe, so I won’t be linking to all of them from my main blog here until much later.

Now, what IndyFringe shows shall we see this week? Mittie said she was coming back on Saturday, but I have to decide what I’m going to see tonight!  Yay! (More about the shows in my next post.)

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter and IndyTheatreHabit on YouTube.