Tag Archives: entertainment

ZOECon 2020 – A Virtual Experience

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Hello Everyone!

COVID-19 has, well . . . (gestures to the general state of things ) . . . and it’s pretty bad.

However, the fine people at Zombie Orpheus Entertainment are hosting a FREE ONLINE VIRTUAL convention! Yes, that’s right! Check out this link to REGISTER. Be prepared to read instructions, and roll with the hiccups because it’s all new and never been tried before, but there will be opportunities for all the gaming/film convention things: games, exhibitors, artists, panels, film screenings, etc.

I’ll be part of the Gamers: The Shadow Menace screening with cast/crew watch-along tomorrow 4/25 at 10:30am PT!

Check it out!

Trailers? I has dem.

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There comes a time in the life of every performer when they’re asked “Do you think you could hit the gym before this project? You’re playing a barbarian.”

OK, no. That’s not true. At least, not for Dwayne Johnson. I think he walks past a rack of weights and just becomes a paragon of human physical training and development. (Love you DJ! I indeed do detect that which the Rock is in process of composing in the kitchen; it smells glorious.)

However, I did in fact visit a weight room and physical training edifice local to my place of dwelling, and the results, well, are now on film for good or ill.

This project is in the late stages of post-production, I’m told, with things like digital effects and color balancing being applied to footage at a torrid pace.

Enjoy!

Stealing from KC

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Steve Jobs (may he rest in peace) loved to quote Pablo Picasso: “Good artists copy; Great artists steal.”

picasso_the_owl

Now, whether or not that’s what Picasso actually said, or even further, what he actually meant, I can’t be bothered to wrangle. However, I came upon an article online in American Theatre magazine about a theatre that has rooted its identity in its community, and found a way to support artists within that community to do outstanding work FOR that community.

You can find the article here.

Go ahead. I’ll wait until you’re done reading it.

No GO AHEAD. It’s short.

You’re done already?

Quick reader.

Okay: I have some thoughts.

First of all, I think that collective decision making can yield great benefits for a company, and in this case, community. Embedding the theatre in the fabric of the community, not just in its decision making (composing the board of half community members) but by fostering local talent almost exclusively gives a unique sense of ownership. Their partnerships with local business, individuals, non-profits, schools, and city government sink their roots deep into where they’ve been planted, and have allowed them to grow and bloom.

There is no dedicated artistic leadership other than the company members. No artistic director, administrative staff, or theatrical home. Many of their works are produced in ‘found spaces’ in the greater KC area. One of the major complaints I’ve heard, and one of the major hurdles I’ve understood to creating a theatre company, is that there has to be a ‘boss’, there have to be staff members, there has to be expense and overhead to keep the lights on in a building that the theatre needs to own or rent. KCAT has found a way around that. Community partnerships allow it to find space when needed. It allows its artists, dedicated to a consensus model of decision-making, to pull the artistic strings needed to select a season of theatrical works, uses committees to do the work of a dedicated staff, while also giving them the flexibility and autonomy to continue their work of making theatre (acting, directing, designing, etc.).

A theatre grounded in it’s community is something Tacoma could get behind. So many of my fellow Tacoma residents are fiercely loyal to their community: the people and places that make Tacoma a place we choose to live. A theatre that’s as loyal to them might just be something worth supporting.

 

 

 

I need Tacoma to need theatre.

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Tacoma Skyline by spacedonkeyI live in Tacoma, Washington. I love this town. The jewel of the South Puget Sound, the City of Destiny, Thrice All-American: Tacoma. Fabulized in song by local girl Neko Case and the Steve Miller Band. We have an arena covered by a dome. We have a revitalized downtown, light-rail, a convention center, fantastic restaurants, safe neighborhoods, wonderful public parks including a Zoo and Aquarium on beautiful Point Defiance. We have professional sports (Go Rainiers!). We have culture: The Museum of Glass, Tacoma Symphony Orchestra, Broadway Center for the Performing Arts, Tacoma Art Museum and, for the love of Mike, a THEATER DISTRICT.

And yet, to continue my work in the arts, I need to drive at least 35 miles each way (as the crow flies) to Seattle. This commute isn’t a joke. I-5 is a mess. It’s dangerous. Due to the irregular hours required for theatrical rehearsal and performance, often I’m travelling through daytime rush-hour, or late at night, through all kinds of our lovely local weather.

Tacoma, despite having a THEATER DISTRICT, cannot apparently support professional actors. (Let’s not now get into a fight over what makes one a ‘professional’ actor. We can do that, but I’ll win. It’s my blog.) Tacoma did, at one time, support local and regional actors through the work of the lost and lamented Tacoma Actor’s Guild. However, since its closure, Tacoma has been without professional theatre. I know I’m not alone in my current mode of work. There are, I’m sure, more than a few of us making the journey to professional opportunities in Seattle. In fact, one of us living in Tacoma is not only one of the workingest actors in Seattle, but he’s artistic director of one of Seattle’s more ambitious musical theatre companies.

Both he and I are (proud) members of the Actor’s Equity Association, the professional union of Actors and Stage Managers. We are not permitted, outside of certain exceptions, to work at theatres who are not able to provide for union contracts for their actors. These contracts provide for a living wage, pension contributions, give eligibility for union healthcare, and stipulate safe and fair working conditions. They’re important. Unions. Living wages. Pursuit of these things has forced local Tacoma talent far afield, or forced them to accept less than suitable compensation for their hard and valuable work.

Are there theatres in this town? Absolutely. There are community theatres. They’re all thriving to one capacity or another. Tacoma Little Theatre has been around for nearly a hundred years. Lakewood Playhouse has thrived thanks to tireless artistic directors and a devoted audience. And Tacoma Musical Playhouse continues to appeal to its audience. Sure, there’s a whole THEATER DISTRICT. Are any of the proud edifices in this district housing local Theatre Companies? Troupes of actors and creatives seeking to tell stories that resonate with the local populace? Reaching out into the community to foster the importance of narrative, theatrical storytelling as an agent for change, reflection, discussion? Nope.

Is that a problem? Depends on who you ask. Theatre just isn’t some people’s thing. They got dragged to some godawful production of Arsenic and Old Lace when they were in junior high, and have never stepped into a theatre since. I don’t blame them. I’ve seen theatre change people’s minds and hearts. I’ve seen it entertain. I’ve seen theatre that uplifts those with their souls weighed down through repression, through trauma. I’ve seen theatre set prisoners free, if even for a few stolen minutes, from the confines of their cells. Storytelling has power. It is one of the primary ways we instill values, and one of the best ways to present our ideas; ideals. When we tell a story to a group, and that group shares in the experience, in the same place, at the same time, breathing the same air: revolution of thought, outrage, healing, laughter. So much becomes possible.

I’m tired of commuting to be a part of the social work of theatre in someone else’s community. It’s wonderful work. It’s valuable to the communities in which it’s present. It adds another vibrant strand to the fabric of the artistic community of this neighborhood/city/state/nation/planet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to have to travel to do it, and I’ll enjoy my time in rehearsal and performance, and I’ll be happy to join with arts organizations to make a difference in Seattle, tell stories, and get people to feel and think. I just want to be able to do it in my home town. To bring my talent and passion to my neighborhood, and not starve in order to do so.

Fair warning: In the coming days and weeks, I might be writing more about this.

 

A Farewell to Becky

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Farewell, old friend.

Farewell, old friend.

A professional life in the performing arts is by no means necessarily a glamorous one. Yes, when you finish your task each night before an audience, if you did well, there is at least courteous applause. However, the strain, work, and stress prior to, and often during a run of performances can become burdensome. Our lives outside the theatre do not cease to exist. We still must pay bills, tend to our physical needs, and for those of us with families, ‘keep the home fires burning’ as it were. Each of us deals with these difficulties in our own way.

I was fortunate, during the run of John Walch’s “In The Book Of” at Taproot Theatre, in that I was presented with a bosom companion: faithful, if tousled and nearsighted, and above and beyond the call of commiseration. An imminently perfect listener, and constantly able to reflect back to me the more hopeful parts of my day, the successes on the boards; I found in Becky a friend without judgment, whose acceptance I came to rely upon, day-in and day-out.

With the closing of “In The Book Of,” I know that the vacuum created by the absence of my colleagues at the theatre will be filled by the activities of daily life, and while I will miss their presence I know that soon I will see them again. The theatre community is one of partings and reunions. In my parting from Becky, however, I feel there is a space in my life that may never again be made whole. Farewell, old friend. Farewell.

GRIMM 3.16 “Synchronicity” Available online!

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grimm_title_cardIt aired live last night, but if you missed it, or want to see it again. . . well do I have a link for you! You can find the episode free to view on the GRIMM webpage, as well as streaming on such sites as Hulu, and Amazon Prime Instant Video! Check it out!

In Awe of Wizardry

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In the collaborative world of the performing arts, in this case, theatre, an actor rarely finds his work performed in a vacuum (unless you’re into some craaazy performance art.) By this, I mean that not only does your work and craft exist on stage next to that of your scene partner, but your work is put before he audience in concert with the work of designers and builders of all the physical elements of the production, as well as the lighting designer, and the sound designer, choreographer, director.
At no time does this strike me more than during ‘tech’ rehearsals. It’s during these rehearsals, usually just before the first dress rehearsals and first audiences of a given work, that all the elements of production come together with the acting work done in the rehearsal hall, in a more or less organized way.

Gandalf and Radagast
And this brings me to the title of this post. I’m working with wizards. Yep. Long beards, interesting hats, magical staves, robes. Funny names, usually with a color in there somewhere. Wait. No.

I AM working with wizards. They may not stand out in the way they dress, or in their tonsorial or naming choices, but they do possess powers beyond my understanding.
Their creative gift and hard work brings an incredible amount of life and detail to the work we do as performers. For instance, in my current production “In the Book Of” at Taproot Theatre, I was particularly struck by the wizardry of our sound designer during last night’s tech rehearsal. As we heard some of the sounds that would be enriching our play for he first time, several of us were struck with the sheer power of the designer’s creation and his ability to bring us into the internal world of a character simply through music and sound. We were moved. And we knew a depth to our work we hadn’t experienced before. It was a sublime moment that I’m excited to get to share with our audience.

So come join us! Partake in some theatrical wizardry!

Matt at Taproot in “Bach at Leipzig”

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Bach at Leipzig - Taproot Theatre 2013

Bach at Leipzig – Taproot Theatre 2013

Even though it is the middle of audition season here in the greater Seattle area, production continues, as ever, as companies put up their last few shows before the summer. There has been some great work on the boards this spring, with lauded productions like NCTC’s The Trial, Balagan’s August: Osage County, ACT Theatre’s Assisted Living, Seattle Rep’s Boeing, Boeing, Seattle Shakespeare’s indoor re-mount of Wooden O’s The Taming of the Shrew, and Taproot’s The Whipping Man, just to name a few.

I hope to carry that baton as well in Taproot Theatre’s production of Itamar Moses’ Bach at Leipzig. A bit of background, cribbed from the back of the script:

“Leipzig, Germany – 1722. Johann Kuhnau, revered organist of the Thomaskirche, suddenly dies, leaving his post vacant. The town council invites musicians from across Germany to audition for the coveted position, among them young Johann Sebastian Bach. In an age where musicians depend on patronage from the nobility or the church to pursue their craft, the post of a prominent church in a cultured city is a near guarantee of fame and fortune – which is why some of the candidates are willing to resort to any lengths to secure it. Bach at Leipzig is a fugue-like farcical web of bribery, blackmail, and betrayal set against the backdrop of Enlightenment questions about humanity, God, and art.”

Sound like your cup of tea? Want glittering, witty dialogue, tights and wigs, and some swordplay? Itamar Moses’ script is a multi-faceted gem of intelligence, character, and comedy, with depth to surprise and ideas to challenge you to think further.

Being a reader of discernment and excellent taste (as demonstrated by your choice of electronic literature, ahem): I know this show is for you. Click the banner above to be magically whisked away to Taproot’s webpage for information on dates, times, and how to get your hands on what is sure to be a hot ticket.

Movin’ on (up?)

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There’s always something to closing a show. Whether it’s wrapping a film, closing night, or the end of the tour, there’s a combination of feelings that leave you a little drained the next morning, regardless of the experience you had doing the work, or the beverages you imbibed at the party the night before.

For me, I usually find that for the first week or so, I miss the routine and the people that make live performing so unique. I miss my role. I find myself mumbling lines from the play to myself in the checkout line at the supermarket, or to my family members. Your fellow actors, the crew, the theatre’s staff are all an everyday part of your life in a way that approaches family. You’ve made friends onstage and off. You’ve lived with another person (your character) for every minute of every day of rehearsal, through performance. Whether you admit to it or not, you miss them.

After that, regardless of whether or not I have a gig to look forward to, I wonder if that might have just been my last play/film.  Rational or not, I always have the sinking feeling that my career might just be at an end with my last project. It’s a difficult business in which to persist. Those of you with ‘secure’ jobs, just try interviewing for a new job every couple weeks (or, often, more frequently), pile up a stack of rejections in hope that one interview will hit and you’ll be able to work for a couple months. Rinse and repeat. It transforms how you consider your future.

Then, there’s the fire and determination to get back in the saddle/on the boards/in front of the camera again. Ask nearly any working actor, and they’ll tell you to get out of the business unless it’s the ONLY thing you can do. An unquenchable thirst needs to exist to do the work of storytelling in theatre in order to make the sacrifices worth the time, the stress, the heartache, and the effort of making a life in the performing arts.

Here’s to the next project!