Brooklyn Gypsies is proud to present the first annual One Catches Light Festival, celebrating the new work of extraordinary NYC-based solo performers. For three nights — starting tonight — three solo artists in the Brooklyn Gypsies family will share a bill: Colie McClellan with Arethusa Speaks, Bay Bryan with Growing Into My Beard and Nick E Finn with Last Hipster in Brooklyn.

I got a chance to chat with Artem Yatsunov who is the Director and Producer of Growing Into My Beard. He’s also the General Manager of the Brooklyn Gypsies, so it’s great to be able to talk with him about this festival!

I first saw Artem’s work at UNDER St. Marks when he directed The Virology back in 2012. I was immediately drawn to his directing style and impressed with his talents. A few years later in 2014 I reviewed Basic Help which wowed me again. Artem is a Ukrainian-born, Brooklyn-based theatre director and storyteller who has been directing non-stop since graduating from Montclair State University in 2008. For Growing Into My Beard he’s collaborating with writer, performer and composer Bay Bryan. Bay is a Colorado-born, Scotland-trained, and Manhattan-based storyteller and singer-songwriter. Currently Bay is splitting his time between touring, Growing into My Beard, and recording his debut album, “Varied Shapes and Sharp Angles.”

Growing Into My Beard is the coming out and coming of age story of a ginger kid from Colorado, growing into his own and falling in love – real love – for the first time. A hilarious and partially improvised evening, the show is told through stories, live music, and Beyoncé dance. Throughout the evening Bay addresses his long distance, long-time committed relationship. He isn’t married, yet but in light of the new Marriage Equality Bill, marriage is now some actual, real shit that Bay will possibly have to consider. Growing Into My Beard is a timely celebration of all things queer.

Sounds great!  Let’s get this interview going!!

Hi Artem! Tonight the  One Catches Light Festival will be kicking off for 3 days in Brooklyn. What’s this festival all about?
Artem: Hi Karen! One Catches Light Festival is a celebration of NYC solo works! This is the first annual festival for the Brooklyn Gypsies who are about to start touring around the country. So this is a very home-based homage to the voices of NY and to the local artists who inspire the company. The three featured solo-works showcase a wide variety of topics: gentrification and hipsters, domestic violence against women, and then of course we have our coming-out story celebrating all things queer. (With explicit ginger content! Leave Nana at home!)

Growing Into My Beard  is “written, performed and lived by my dear pal and collaborator Bay Bryan”. Tell me about the experience of actually directing someone performing a recreation of their own life.
Artem: Ha! It’s very very amusing, and Bay and I have been working on this since last April – from inception, through the writing, and now through five different productions of this show. So we have a very deep commitment to the story. But it never fails to be really funny, and weird, for me to have to say things like, “Oh, that thing that really happened to you, that moment in your life you just described – yeah, that’s not really all that interesting. Let’s skip it!” Bay is a trooper, bless him.

Growing Into MyBeard has been making the rounds – Queerly Fest at Horse Trade, Minnesota Fringe, FringeArts in Philly. Are you getting different reactions in different cities?
Artem: It’s been awesome to bring Growing Into My Beard to so many different crowds. In NYC there is always a lot of friends and fans in the audience who instantly get the inside jokes and the snarky asides. So we were curious how people would react on tour, we wanted to know if it could earn that sense of kinship with strangers. It’s been a humbling response! In Minneapolis people just wanted to keep talking and talking about the show after, and they wept and got really into the performance! Philly was just like a party, every day. I cannot say enough great things about the LGBTQ scene is in Philadelphia – TABU Bar and Philly AIDS Thrift Store were our fave venues to play! It felt like in Philly people really wanted to witness queer stories and to share them.

Has the show changed much as it travels along? Or has the script been pretty much set since day one?
Artem: Yes – a ton. I feel like it changes a little every night. However, in Philly we had this like audience story-telling concept in the show where Bay would turn to the spectators at certain points to ask about their stories of love and coming out. And those were true “WOAH” moments! Because people wanted to share. I think that the coming-out narratives are so incredible and are such a unique part of queer identity and culture. I can’t think of a better way to put it than I feel privileged to be doing this show and to be witness to how it sparks a dialogue about queer acceptance.

You’ve directed some great ensemble work, you’re very good at rhythm and pacing. What’s the difference between directing a cast vs. directing a solo-show?
Artem: A solo show really is always an act of ultimate exposure – the entire time the audience is asking themselves the question, “Do I like being in the same room with this person for an hour?” That’s a strange pressure for a performer. It forces an artist to reconsider what kind of a story teller they are at the core. It’s like in clowning they teach you to discover your essence – are you a sarcastic clown that splats pies in people’s faces, or are you the sad clown who gets pie-faced? Solo shows are like that, too: there’s no hiding your authentic self. With this show, I felt that sense of exposure immediately because this is Bay’s real life and we’re creating a fantasy around real events of his life. This play is equal parts a vibrant live experience and an intimate search for closure.

Where do you hope to take this show next? Do you see it going on and on?
Artem: I’ve got some plans to take it to a cabaret space, but I’m not sure where, yet. We’re thinking of taking it to Bay’s home town of Golden, Colorado at some point. I’d love to do it in the back room of a bar: some joint with a whiskey stained creaky old piano that Bay could play, and then do a pirouette on top of.

There are solo shows aplenty in this community. What makes the solo shows of the One Catches Light Festival different, special, worth seeing?
Artem: Each show in the line-up is spectacular and totally different. Brooklyn Gypsies have curated this festival specifically to speak to some of this community’ issues: gentrification is terrible real and present and happening right now all over Brooklyn; domestic violence and sexual attacks on women are right now on the forefront of every American individual; and queer acceptance and the Marriage Equality bill are perhaps the most revolutionary American cultural milestones of this century – and gosh darn in, I think we ought to celebrate it!

Bonus question! Tell me something unrelated to this show. The mic is yours!
Artem: Do this at a party, or – wherever: pretend you’re chewing gum, make eye contact with a total stranger across the room, and without taking your eyes off that person, just start twerking. HARD. See where that takes your night. If you need a crash-course on how to execute that maneuver correctly come see Growing Into My Beard at Brooklyn Gypsies’ One Catches Light Festival! Let the ginger-swan Bay Bryan school ya!

Ahh, Artem, as always – such a joy to be able to chat with you.  The festival sounds amazing and I know you’ll have butts in all the seats!

For the rest of you – get yourself down to the One Catches Light Festival — starting TONIGHT FOLKS!!!

~~~

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Artem Yatsunov is currently working on a solo show about Americanized immigrants dealing with conflicts in their native lands. If you’re interested in collaborating, Artem is always looking for new artists, actors and playwrights to work with – contact Artem at artem.yatsunov@gmail.com

Bay Bryan is very excited to share Growing into My Beard with you, after having toured it at the Queerly, Minnesota Fringe, and Philly Fringe Festivals! For more info check out Bay’s website www.baybryan.com

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Need an excuse to drink a lot with your friends on a Monday night?  Looking for a reasonably priced venue filled with laughs, entertainment and unexpected moments that will have you waiting for the next cue to hoist that brew?  Then Tiny Rhino - Ugly Rhino‘s Monthly Drinking Game Series – is for you.

The rules are simple – each month six short plays are commissioned by Ugly Rhino. The plays can be about absolutely anything - except as often as possible they should include the same five dramatic elements.

The nights of the performance these five elements are announce and that’s everyone’s cue to drink!

July’s edition was packed with an eager house who was ready to drink every time they saw someone trips and fall, give the finger, do an imitation of a famous person, comment on the temperature in the room, or explain their dream.  Even more fun was guessing if that trip counted as a trip and fall and if that vague circular thing was an Iron Man reference and thus counted as “imitation of a famous person”.

While some skits played hard and fast with the elements, throwing in “boy, it’s hot in here” and “lemme tell you about this dream” randomly and often in an effort to get the audience as drunk as possible other skits were masterfully done, skillfully weaving the elements into a perfect jewel.   Half the fun of the evening that Ugly Rhino puts together in their Tiny Rhino series is seeing how much you can drink, but the other half is seeing how six different playwrights can take all the same elements and create six vastly different short plays.

July’s installment of TinyRhino featured new works which ran the gamut from comedy to drama to a swingin’ musical.  While The Surprised Party by Kendra Levin, Pharmaceutical, The 10 Minute Musical by Yontan Sallmander, and  Open Heart Surgery by Tatiana Suarez-Pico were all in good fun, Die Hard, Hard As In A Boner by Justin Shipley, was a hilarious look at what happens right after the guy gets the girl  - the not so thrilling wake of the wham-bam thrilling conclusion so often handed to us at the end of these crash ‘em up movies.  DashCam by Solomon Strul was an eerie, spooky, devilishly haunting tale that used superb lighting and sound effects that had the audience riveted,  and The Nun Lesbian Sacred Card House Play by Deen was deeply moving, thoughtful and touching – far more than its title implies.  I dare say I had a tear in my eye at the end.

Next month’s evening will showcase some of the audience’s favorite TinyRhino plays from various months over the past year and will include This… Body; The Weight of the World by Morgan Gould from May 2012, Vic and Ned Across America by Daniel Kitrosser from January 2012, The Reoccurring Resurrection of Sweet Latisha Jesus Brown by Patricia Ione Lloyd from April 2012, Don’t Eat Almonds Off a Dead Guy by Tariq Hamami from July 2011, Occupation by Kyle Warren from November 2011, and Punches by Becca Schlossberg from June 2012.

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There is a very telling moment which comes two thirds of the way into Mariah MacCarthy’s play The Foreplay Play which is currently being produced by CAPS LOCK THEATRE  at a site-specific location (WAY off-off Broadway) in Williamsburg.  This dramedy about the tension which builds between two couples as they tentatively (and sometimes not so tentatively) lay the foundation for a night of orgiastic bliss has many titillating moments, but the one which encapsulated this show for me was probably the least sexual of the night.

After a series of awkward missteps, false starts, jumping the gun (but not without a few hot hot, drrrrrty, breathtaking, throw-you-up-against-the-wall, take-you-right-now-on-the-kitchen-counter moments) Kyle, the sole male of the intended foursome is strumming a guitar and the quartet has just finished a rousing rendition of Springteen’s Hungry Heart.  In and of itself  Hungry Heart is a beautiful moment – each character singing with completely different motivation: some with actual hunger in their heart, some with nothing more than Springsteen Joy, and others with the taste of a memory, perhaps.  Regardless of subtext, the four voices blend beautifully, and yet perfectly naturally – the way any four people with decent singing voices might automatically take the harmonies.  They all know the words, they understand the nuances, they enjoy the camaraderie the singing produces, and the moment is binding.  The telling moment comes right after, when three of the four decide to launch into Since You’ve Been Gone.

Nic Grelli, Lindsey Austen,Diana Oh and Parker Leventer (Photo by Kacey Stamats)

“I don’t know this song,” pouts Anika (Lindsey Austen) and soon her pout erupts into full-on anger.  She has a tantrum, runs from the room, and leaves the others feeling awkward, embarrassed, perhaps guilty, but – let’s be honest – a little smug.  We know something you don’t know.

Herein lies the key to good group ANYTHING – but for the purposes of this review we’ll stick to group sex.  In order for it to work, everyone has to be in harmony.  Everyone has to feel comfortable.  Everyone has to know where to pick up, where to leave off, where to come in, and when to hold back.  Moving forward when someone clearly doesn’t “know the words” to a certain song (read – doesn’t know the rules of a certain situation) is only going to lead to tantrums.

What The Foreplay Play illustrates and illuminates beautifully is that bringing the fantasy (again, of anything, but specifically group sex) into the real world is a daunting process even if all the clothes are laid out neatly on the bed for you beforehand.  Just because you have a piano and ten fingers doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly sit down and start playing Mozart.  Even further – simply because you can play the piano doesn’t mean you’ll be able to play a complete performance of all the Chopin Etudes.  And so – just because you like sex doesn’t mean you can have it with three other people you’re fond of without someone hitting a harsh note.  Perception is easy.  Reality is hard.  Or … let’s go with “difficult”.

The foursome of The Foreplay Play is made up of  Kyle (Nic Grelli) who is sweet, earnest and charming.  He’s manly and studly but he’s gentle enough to break down and fall apart when emotions overwhelm him.  (And this night is rife with overwhelming emotions of all types).  Kyle’s girlfriend is Anika (Lindsey Austen) - a yearning, tentative girl who fancies herself experimental but, when push comes to shove, can’t get out of her own way far enough to move past “vanilla” (which, to this crowd, is more of an insult than a subtle flavor choice).  They are hosted for the evening by Anika’s co-worker Isabel (Diana Oh) who is a power house of sexuality and seduction.  While Izzy doesn’t actively set out to seduce everyone in the room she is somehow the center of the sexual vortex here as both Kyle and Anika find themselves longing for her in ways that (if you’re an audience member with any sort of pulse) will have you catching your breath.  The quartet is rounded out by Isabel’s live-in lover Kelly (Parker Leventer) who is sure of herself, a self-professed Dom who dominates in rooms other than the bedroom and enjoys making others feel uncomfortable, even as she insists on ground rules and guidelines for the evening.

Throughout the evening of foreplay each gets their turn to take a spin in front of the mirror, as it were.  On display this evening for all of us (and for each other) to see are each character’s most charming qualities, their most annoying habits, their sexiest urges, their most awkward discomfort.  Separately and together they all find themselves acting out, taking the lead, taking a backseat, or simply bobbing along as they watch the inevitable happen.

The cast is strong, each delivering a nuanced performance which gives you an opportunity to side with them or against them depending on the flow of the evening.  Under Leta Tremblay’s fine direction the night is hyper-real.  The play is, as I mentioned, site specific – so this Williamsburg apartment (big by New York standards but rather intimate for a play) creates an immediate fly-on-the-wall scenario.  (Be warned that seating is limited and, like a game of musical chairs, there’s a rush for seats once the apartment door opens.  Latecomers will be sitting on cushions up front.  Those with knee problems who are loathe to sitting on the floor are, unfortunately, SOL).

The intimacy of the space allows Tremblay to give the characters a whole host of real-time actions to work with – actual dinner to be prepared, actual exits from the apartment to be made.  Tremblay also deftly balances all the craziness (Twister! Knife play! Costumes and fake accents! Spin the bottle!) with a solid anchor of gravitas so that rather than feeling MacCarthy is throwing a lot at the wall to see what sticks in terms of theme this feels much more like four actual people who are twisting and turning their way through a strange encounter in order to make it fit for all involved.  Unfortunately no matter how many games of Twister they play the right combination just won’t fall into place.

MacCarthy aims for – and delivers – a night of questions rather than answers.  A night of seeking rather than finding, and a night which flips over the rocks to explore the grime underneath.  While no one gets very naked, emotionally the cast strips bare and the four individuals share intimacies on a level much deeper than the simple exchanging of bodily fluids.  Ultimately sex is besides the point.  MacCarthy, in her Playwright’s Note, admits that the play “ends up being a celebration of love, not sex”.

CAPS LOCK THEATRE, on their website, states, “We like plays where people are at both their worst and their best; where people screw each other–or themselves–over, and have to find a way to deal with it; where people’s hearts hurt, or open, or blossom.”  I’d say that The Foreplay Play does all of this – and perfectly.

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THE FOREPLAY PLAY

A new play by Mariah MacCarthy
Directed by Leta Tremblay
This play takes place at a site-specific apartment in Williamsburg - Brooklyn, NY
Location will be disclosed to audience members upon ticket purchase

Thursdays-Sundays at 8pm

April 19-May 6, 2012

Click here for tickets

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Even casual readers of The Happiest Medium know that when it comes to Company XIV and Austin McCormick I am reduced to a screaming fan-girl.  I am older, of course -not a girl, so my screaming is done on the inside (most of the time), but when it comes to this neo-baroque dance ensemble everything about them makes my heart race, my temperature elevate and my eyes tear up. Every time I walk through the doors of the theatre at Bond Street I shiver with antici ————————-pation about what will greet me – for here I have seen the most dazzling pieces of multi-media theatre I have ever experienced.  EVER.

This week Company XIV has been holding a workshop where Austin McCormick, Laura Careless and guest instructors have been showing gifted dancers the Company XIV way.   I will be moderating a discussion with Austin from 1.15pm-3pm tomorrow, Friday, March 9 at the Company XIV studio at 303 Bond Street, Brooklyn. If you’re free, come on down.  If you’re busy – break your plans.  Because after you read this, you’ll want to see this man in person.

I was lucky enough to be able to sit in on the workshop Tuesday afternoon and even though I was there for hours the time flew and my mind raced as I was captivated by what I saw unfold before me.  This opportunity was like a dream come true – akin to (I can only imagine) being able to go to spring training if you love baseball.  It’s watching your idol, your hero, behind the curtain, in the process of creating magic in a way that few ever get to experience.

I wish I could spend every day with Laura Careless and Austin McCormick.  Theirs is a world so opposite of mine – the world of breathing, movement, communing with your core – yourself, your space.  My world is about sitting, observing and then writing — hoping that my words adequately translate what I’ve experienced in a way that tantalized the readers.  And even though I meet dozens of people doing what I do, and even though I am part of a community and a team, it is rare that my actual work involves anyone other than me.

For anyone who has ever seen a Company XIV show there can be no question —  there is an energy, a type of spell that falls over the space where they dance, binding performers to audience.  McCormick (who conceives, directs and choreographs all his shows) blends eroticism with beauty, each movement somehow conveying ecstasy and anguish at the same time. It’s bitter and sweet – it’s longing and loss wrapped in joy and celebration.  Every time. Every time.

Very often when you meet your heroes they are so much less in person than they are from afar. They disappoint by being less spectacular up close – less of the magical creatures  you see from your seat in the dark.  Not so the members of Company XIV. Laura Careless, Sean Gannon and Austin McCormick are gorgeous in person – and I don’t mean on the spectrum of beauty, though they have that as well.  They are gorgeous because they shine with talent, with energy, with enthusiasm for what they do, and the eagerness to share it.  They glow with vitality, they glimmer with the fire that comes from doing what you love to do, and doing it well every time. They are warm, welcoming … they capture you with their spirit in person as much as they do from the stage.

On Tuesday I took my spot and first watched Laura Careless teach a class. I see something I can hardly put into words begin to happen; her class is beautiful and smooth, with moments of sudden release,  all done in this almost reverent environment of Austin’s studio/performance space.  The ambiance is as captivating as the class, beautiful old chandeliers light the room, coupled with natural daylight streaming in through the skylight.  The class takes place amid what’s left of the Snow White show I saw just a short while ago – a silver tree, glowing orbs of light.  It is both a dramatic effect and yet completely commonplace, for this (as I said) is 303 Bond street where everything is stunning.

I watch Laura’s class – her gestures are free, gorgeous, wild.  There was falling to the floor and springing to the feet, bouncing, twirling; with movements which students were interpreting  in their own style – some open and unrestrained, some tight and precise, but somehow all fitting together and looking amazing.

Laura ended her class with a meditation, one where each student was guided to thank their body for allowing it to give so much.  This simple gesture took my breath away; we often don’t thank ourselves for our own talents, we often don’t recognize what we do for ourselves, the gift we give ourselves.   And of course this gave me a moment to silently thank these dancers for giving me so much as well; perhaps they felt my thanks, perhaps they only felt the energy that increased in the room.

There was a break, but dancers dance.  Even between dancing, they dance.  They may not even know they do it, but dancers always dance.  I love that.

Up next was Austin’s workshop and here’s where I got to watch the master at work.

I work with words.  Words are fixed and I know what to expect from them, although I am often surprised by how a subtle pairing or combination will shade the meaning, giving a nuance I didn’t expect.  I love to play with words and find that sweet spot.   Austin McCormick has something  much more amazing and organic to work with of course, and because human beings are living and breathing and moving, they can contribute to his internal vision.  Watching Austin as he watched his vision come alive was an experience I’ll never forget.

He is sure and precise but completely at ease.  This is his element, there is no hesitation, no second guessing, no frustration.  With the help of  Laura  they take the dancers through the routine slowly at first. At times it’s so exquisite that it’s like hearing a word whispered slowly in French.  Keep in mind, this isn’t a dance class, this is a true workshop: a place where ridiculously talented people are learning the XIV way.  So I shouldn’t be astonished at how quickly the dancers pick up the spellbinding choreography, but I am.

It’s wonderful to be able to see how these pieces come to life, to see Laura talk through the movements alongside Austin.  She speaks automatically and without hesitation. She says things like “on your hands, BAM!, thread your knee, roll back, extend back with arch” She speaks with as much ease and grace as Olivier recited Shakespeare … “Slip, cross, step, grab leg, bring it in, hand to face”.

While I don’t pretend to ever have been a dancer – not even a 3 year old weekend jazz/tap baby – I can’t help but think that Austin has created a language all his own.  I listen as he directs the dancers to move with words like “snippety … to the heart” There’s a deep poetry to it that would put e.e. cummings to shame.  There are words like Ninja Ladies, Picture, Open Heart, Cowabunga. I love how it sounds. I love more how it looks.  I love most how it makes me feel.

Writing this story was easy; surprisingly so – it was as if Austin McCormick, Laura Careless and Sean Gannon had gotten hold of my hands and were choreographing my fingers.  I sat alone, up high in the bleachers, like a fly on the wall, watching these dancers and letting the creativity boomerang around the room, allowing it to somehow capture me in the energy as well.  Like a medium who goes into trance, I watched for hours and when I came home later that night and read what I’d written it was like I was reading my words for the first time.  Which proves my theory.  This  ability Austin McCormick has to create magic transcends dance. It reaches out and embraces, influences, and inspires all manner of artists, be they singers, dancers, actors or writers — of fiction or of fact.

I’ll end with a snippet of a song that was being played in the studio at some point while I was there. Again, simply because dancers dance even when they aren’t dancing, I couldn’t tell if they were on a break or working out a routine.  Of course it didn’t matter … and this song will tell you why:

When I was 12 years old, my father took me to the circus, the greatest show on earth.

There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears

And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.

And as I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle

I had the feeling that something was missing.

I don’t know what, but when it was over,

I said to myself, “Is that all there is to a circus?”

Is that all there is, is that all there is

If that’s all there is my friends, then let’s keep dancing

Let’s break out the booze and have a ball

If that’s all there is

~~~

I leave you once more with a reminder that tomorrow you’ll have a chance to attend the discussion I will be moderating with Austin McCormick 1.15pm-3pm on Friday, March 9 at the Company XIV studio at 303 Bond Street, Brooklyn.

See you there!

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David Lawson’s solo show, VCR Love, had a limited engagement recently at The Brick Theater.  Bold and innovative, this show explored the consequences, both positive and negative, of the increasing availability of porn in American society as seen through his own experiences.

The story begins with Lawson’s first “exposure” to explicit nudity at the impressionable age of 11 (a quick calculation based on context would put the year at 1995) when Lawson saw his first pair of naked female breasts which made an appearance in the seminal classic Animal House.  The mental sensations of this discovery along with the struggle to replicate this initial thrill move him through the next few years of his life from stolen Victoria’s Secret catalogs to taping the “good parts” of MTV like Fiona Apple and Mariah Carey in there slinky skimpies.   “It meant more because of the time I spent waiting for those precious moments on tv, and it would now be preserved forever”. VCR love, indeed.

Lawson follows this up with the exploits he and his friends, Ben and Keith, went on at the age of 14 in search of the forbidden.  From stealing naked yoga videos, to waiting a few hours for their 56.6 k modem to download a 2 minute video on Ben’s parents computer, to calling as many random 1-800 sex lines they could think of  and listening before the charges would kick in.  Did this ruin them or did it lead them to appreciate things more in a simpler time? Because of the investment and the camaraderie of the shared experience something was present then that isn’t as common with porn in this day and age.

Lawson argues for and against the benefits of the modern ease of finding outlets for titillation by pointing at the diversity needed in order to stand out in a saturated marketplace.  It is this which has led to the rise of any imaginable niche through a few carefully crafted keywords at your favorite porn watering hole.  Be it ‘furry’, ‘she-male’ or ‘french threesomes’ the personalization of your predilection offers an ease and even the oddly solipsistic connection that being able to reach out anonymously can be.

For the uninitiated Lawson delves into the world of online porn with stories such as his friend’s “double reverse role-play” with his own sister as they meet in a chat room, each thinking the other is the opposite sex of what they actually are.  He includes anecdotes of viewing the masturbatory habits of strangers that is prevalent on a new social video network known as Chatroulette and other even more “interesting” sites.

Sasha Grey

In the end he advocates that all this is good, pointing to the benefits of becoming a better lover through being able to express more creativity by being truly open about what is most private with his new girlfriend  - who also has an interest in porn.  He relates a touching story of how he found out she liked porn – he said she looked just like Sasha Grey (a famous adult film actress) and she said,”That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me.”  That she not only knew the name but also that she found it a complement was what opened a special time of sharing between the two of them.

Now they can talk about different things they’ve seen or would like to try.  Lawson sees this as a way we all could benefit from this modern anonymous catalogue of human sexuality that is available right in our own homes.  By using these tools we could all become better, more capable lovers, engaging in more educated and interesting conversations about sex.  We would not have to be as afraid to talk about these issues in mixed company and not have these barriers that are so strong between the sexes when it comes to … well … sex.

All in all, VCR Love is a good night of comedy.  It takes you from the past to the present with a lot of good storytelling.  Great for a one man comedy night (even moreso than perhaps a theatrical piece).

Since 2/3rds of the audience were women on the night I attended, I’d say Lawson’s prediction of internet porn creating more transparency and more exploration may already be coming to pass.  So go ahead and do your part to help make the world a better place and bring your mixed company to the next production of VCR Love on March 23rd at the Lounge at Dixon Place or perhaps David’s next play Turning Atomic Tricks playing at the Parkside Lounge (March 10) and at  Simplestudios (March 11).  Find out more information from his personal web site at dtlawson.com,

~~~

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Temperatures were rising last night at the first evening of the two part celebration for Doc Wasabassco’s 7th Anniversary Extravaganza. The blazing hot belles were ravishing, revealing and  resplendant as they strutted, sauntered and slowly stripped their way across the stage of The Bell House last night.

But that was only part of it.

As promised the place was crammed with every type of seductive, suggestive, steamy, spicy, slinky thing you could imagine. Lady Scoutington warmed up the crowd on the main stage with some get up and go-go dancing while out in front Peekaboo Pointe was Pole Dancing and doing things I’d only heard of whispered about in certain circles. She was mesmerizing to say the least.

Side tables were selling wares that would make any fan of burlesque giddy with excitement – gorgeous stockings from PEEK were avaliable as well as pasties handmade by Nasty Canasta herself!!  Undoubtedly I had to get myself a pair – for research purposes of course!  In homage to Ms. Canasta I got a pair of Vegas inspired pasties replete with poker chips, cards and sparkly stones.  I can’t wait to … ahem …  I mean … wow.  Those sure will look nice on my … display shelf.

Speaking of pasties once the main show got started there was no shortage of them.  After a wonderful welcome from the man of the hour himself, Doc Wasabassco, and a full-on intro by Bastard Keith (who warmed up the crowd with amusing tales and a soulful rendition of Otis Redding’s “Try A Little Tenderness” that was absolutely awe-inspiring) things got right down to business.

Hazel Honeysuckle started off the festivities with a fantastic number that featured a gorgeous blue ensemble that came off slowly to a lounge version (which was almost unrecognaizalbe until the chorus) of Ice, Ice Baby.

Following her was Magdelena Fox who didn’t disappoint as she disrobed her exotic feathered costume and shook fans that flew through the air and appeared to set her ablaze, so quickly did the red and yellow material stream and blur.

Bird of Paradise used elaborate props to re-create a Flashdance flashback, starting off dressed as mechanic and ending up as a dripping wet 80s dancer.  What a feeling!

Precious Little proved she had a Precious Lot … bedecked in white feathered finery, she unbuckled her corset and spun a hoop of white plumes around to roars of approval.

Medianoche then came out and did her typical mezmerizing, teasing absolutely alluring dance complete with huge red fans and twinkling eyes.  She had the audience spellbound.

Then it was time for the PEEK stocking fashion show featuring Hazel Honeysuckle, Bettina May, Tansy, Nasty Canasta and Medianoche before the crowd took a break.

At this point, knowing I was going back again tonight, I decided to call it an evening so that I would be ready to greet the new wave of Burlesque that I knew would knock my socks off again. (But just my socks, kiddies).

Tickets are still available for what I KNOW will be another amazing night, and there’s plenty of room in The Bell House to enjoy the show. So come down early, watch the lovely ladies, buy some items, and enjoy some of the best entertainment Burlesque has to offer as you help the Wasabassco group celebrate seven terrific and successful years!

~~~

Wasabassco Burlesque’s 7th Anniversary Extravaganza will be hosted by Doc Wasabassco, Bastard Keith, GiGi La Femme, Nasty Canasta, Sapphire Jones, and Stormy Leather.

Doors will open at 9pm

With performances by: Albert Cadabra, Amanda Whip, Amber Ray, Bastard Keith, Bettina May, Bird of Paradise, BooBess, Broadway Brassy, Bryan Barletta, Emmy Dubois, Evelyn Vinyl, Gal Friday, GiGi La Femme, Go-Go Harder, Grace Gotham, Hard Corey, Harvest Moon, Hazel Honeysuckle, Jenny C’Est Quoi, Kita St. Cyr, Kobayashi Maru, Lady Scoutington, Lauren Liberman, Madame Rosebud, Magdalena Fox, Mala Morrigan, Marlo Marquise, Medianoche, Hula Hoop Harl*t Melissa-Anne, Michelle L’amour, Ms Tickle, Nasty Canasta, Nelson Lugo, Nikki Le Villain, Peekaboo Pointe, Pixie Love, Precious Little, Sapphire Jones, Stormy Leather, Tansy, The Outer Borough Brass Band, Victoria Privates, and Vikki Likkerish.

Tickets $25 are available by clicking  SATURDAY

or by calling TicketWeb at 1-866-777-8932

The Bell House

149 7th Street (between 2nd and 3rd Aves)

Brooklyn, NY 11215

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With the rise (and rise) of circus performances in the mold of Cirque de Soleil, western audiences have become more familiar with the astounding acts of physical ability acrobats can achieve, and also increasingly with an old school notion of razzle-dazzle to accompany such acts. Sets and costumes have evolved to elaborately frame these displays and a light narrative or theme is invoked to suggest continuity and order. The circus, in the last two decades, has evolved dramatically. Indeed it is safe to say that spectacle is established as the ruling aesthetic for Hollywood, and now Broadway.

Honing close to a tradition that reaches back centuries and, more formally, under the auspices of a state initiative established by the People’s Republic of China in 1950 – when twentieth century political propaganda was at a hysterical pitch internationally – where do such innovations now leave an outfit like The National Acrobats of the People’s Republic of China? This year The National Acrobats are conducting an inaugural tour of the United States (timing, you should understand, would be one of their strong points) and a lucky audience at a performance given at the Brooklyn Center for the Performing Arts were given an opportunity on Saturday, October 29th,to assess.

Spectacle is spectacle, and the National Acrobats did not skimp in this lavish presentation. Acrobatics aside, the colorful costuming, with up to the moment interpretation, even in these digitally assimilated times, still projected a pronounced ethnic styling that evoked an exotic foreignness. Juggling props too held a distinct aura of the east. Bowls, fans, paper parasols, and Kungfu-inspired  ”meteor hammers” were all pressed into use in routines that ran from single and two-performer pieces to elaborately choreographed ensemble acts.

In some group performances there might be as many as forty people on stage at once, and the eye hardly knew where to settle so many events were unfolding simultaneously. These dazzling productions were interspersed with quieter, concentrated  turns where the audience was free to focus and marvel, as when a teetering ballerina positioned and stepped on point along the neck, arms, shoulders and head of a sturdy supporter as if he were merely part of her exercise environment. Prone on her back upon a chair, another juggler played with paper parasols, handling them with her feet in a manner most would find awkward with their hands, setting them spinning and bouncing above in a graceful display of physical acuity and extraordinary timing. An umbrella tossed upward will hang for a beat as the air beneath suspends its descent. It is astonishing to observe the confidence with which these jugglers deploy such fractional seconds. And don’t get me started about the ball juggler who was bouncing seven balls at once off the ground as he moved up and down a flight of steps! I tried to watch his hands, but they were just a pink blur.

The ensemble performances were just as mind-boggling. A chorus line of girls in feather-tipped headdresses juggling diabolos on strings in perfect unison; twenty-four girls clambering onto a single moving bicycle to form the “peacock’s spreading tail”; a band of young men bouncing helicoptering weighted chords of rope (the Kungfu inspired “meteor hammer”) back and forth on their feet as if they were beach balls; a group of young women each, just incidentally, balancing ten spinning plates on the end of thin poles as they contorted and balanced on top of one another. The amazement factor at the prowess and athleticism on show was cramped only slightly in those acts where the extreme difference in physical proportion between participants put you in mind, as with some ice skating pairings, that you were watching a demonstration that could as aptly be described as “girl throwing”. And, to be really picky, one could add that the relentless theatrical muzak din, a peculiar hybrid of western and eastern pop drone, was over the course of two hours, somewhat spirit-sapping. But, to be fair, you weren’t really noticing.

So what if the suggestion of a narrative here is pointedly dispensed with? Who cares about spectral political allegorical implications – the figure trembling at the top of the pyramid is utterly dependent on the solidity of the figures straining at the bottom? (Hmm; perhaps it’s even time western minds could re-engage with this notion.) What of the absence of any central star focus? (Though the charismatic solo ball-juggler- King of Nine Balls says the program – did command the loudest cheer at curtain call; tut-tut, decadent western sensibilities!) After all, it’s just show biz, isn’t it? State owned and fostered show biz. Approved sugar for the masses. What of it? Spectacle is spectacle is spectacle. Sugar is sugar. But oh, what fine, gorgeous, expertly spun sugar.

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I’d say that Mark Gindick had me at “hello” with his one-man comedy performance Wing-Man (directed by Barry Lubin) but he actually never said “hello”.  In fact, he didn’t say anything.  For a solid hour Mark Gindick doesn’t really say a word  but as surely as he arrives on the scene with a rose and a heart-shaped box of candy there’s no mistaking that he’s there to win your heart.  And frankly, were I not happily married I’d readily have given my heart (and a kiss – but more on that in a minute) to this man as easily as I gave him my laughter — because Mark Gindick just happens to be that engaging, magnetic and sweet.  And frankly, if anyone deserves your love, it’s him.

Ultimately every performer – be it clown, comedian, singer or Shakespearean actor – is looking for love when they walk out into the spotlight.  The love will come back to them in a few different forms  … the audience will applaud or laugh or cheer or sing along but that’s all just different ways of showing their love and acceptance.  The way the performer asks for that love is usually cloaked behind a script, a song, a story … but it’s still there. Gindick’s Wing-Man, however, cuts closer to the bone.  When Mark takes the stage he makes no pretense that he is there for any other reason than to acquire your love which – you can just tell – he will cherish and nurture.  He goes about winning your heart by making you laugh.  Over and over and over again.

It’s odd to see a performer, especially one billed as a clown, who can pluck at your core so exquisitely while making you laugh so powerfully.  Yet Gindick does it – solidly – from the moment he steps onto the stage till the moment he retreats – wrapped in bubble wrap having just done a tap dancing routine that sounded like a 21-gun salute thanks to the pop-pop-pop of the audience gamely popping along on their own sheets of bubble wrap.

The piece begins as Gindick -in pure clown style – pulls a kissing booth from a suitcase and goes about setting it up.  He adds some sultry bosa nova music to entice the would-be paramour, then leans back and waits.  And waits … and, well, you get the picture.

Soon enough he finds a radio station offering something to aid his pursuit and within moments a case of BAD-ASS arrives – full of everything he needs to get the girl.  It’s full of amazing bad-ass things (just opening the lid produces a flash of disco lights) which he immediately puts on.  A leather jacket, goggles … this kit means business.   The pocket of the jacket is filled with further bad-ass things: scissors (for running with), pop rocks and coke  (for mixing together … AND SWALLOWING!) Oh, this clown will stop at nothing to create the full effect.

Bit after bit shows off Gindick’s extraordinary talent at not only physical comedy but his broad range of styles.  One moment he’s playing furious air guitar, the next he’s channeling Gene Kelly.  Throughout it all he’s telling a story so richly textured that you’re actually saying “awwww” through your laughter, you’re on his side but he’s so hapless that you can’t help finding the humor in the situation … and of course that’s becuase you’re supposed to be finding it.  This is, after all, a clown’s story.

Director Barry Lubin spoke with me earlier about Wing-Man and explained his process when directing this piece; he said of Gindick “Mark is a sweet, wonderful, naturally funny, naturally loving and lovely guy. He makes himself vulnerable each time he is in front of an audience not because he manufactures that vulnerability, but because it is real. Mark wants our love and we love him for that”.  It’s clear that Lubin used Gindick’s natural earnestness to bring this piece to even higher levels; allowing the organic vulnerability to create space for the laughter.  And while that space is large, it is quickly filled … you barely have time to catch your breath before the laughter bubbles up again.

Eventually the various scenes lead to a satisfying conclusion in which Gindick pulls out all the stops (and the previously mention bubble wrap) and dances up a storm.  If you’re looking for a man who will make you laugh, entertain you and steal your heart look no further than Wing-Man.

Just two shows – last night and tonight.  I highly recommend you get over to The Brick and see this while you can.

~~~

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Related Posts:

• Mark Gindick Explains The Serious Business Of Clowning Around
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I don’t even know how to start explaining how or why Neon Lights (created and performed by Chris Manley and Jeff Seal) became the show that had me laughing so hard that I was literally wheezing.  Truthfully, if I gave you a rundown of everything they did in their act it would sound like I’m describing a show where two crazy lunatics mostly run around the stage for around an hour performing foolish antics, emitting crazy noises, flipping themselves around like pinballs and telling nonsensical stories – all for a laugh.  But you know how some people open their mouth to hit a high note and it sounds like a screech – but when Pavarotti did the same thing it was magic?  Yeah. That’s Neon Lights.  Somehow, they’ve found the magic.  Or – as they would tell you – the Magik.

Make no mistake.  As wild as Manley and Seal get you can see the layers of mastery encoded in everything they do.  There is no doubt that they’ve practiced, worked and reworked their craft to such a fine point that they are now able to let it fly with abandon, knowing they’ll hit the mark … the same way Annie Oakley knew she’d shoot a hole through that playing card from 90 feet away.  It’s all in the timing.

Manley and Seal start out at an almost unbelievably fast pace as they burst into the venue – they don’t let up, they don’t miss a beat, and they have the type of comic repartee that is reminiscent of a trapeze act – we can only watch in awe as they throw the jokes higher and higher and then be amazed each time they land safely at the intended mark.

This team plays brilliantly off each other, but generously gives each other the floor to showcase a talent.  For instance, Jeff Seal does an amazing impression of a Mime impersonating Robert DeNiro pretending he’s rollerblading.  And Chris Manley keeps the audience amused far longer than you’d expect with nothing but his Hello Kitty calendar and some month-by-month commentary.  It shouldn’t work – nothing about a grown man standing alone on stage with a calendar describing the pictures should work – but it had the audience howling with laughter.

Director Danny Manley knows how to let this duo break the speed limit but then also understands when it’s time to slow down the pace to give both the performers as well as the audience a chance to catch up – as well as catch their breath.  Luckily the slower bits contain just as many laughs, minus the turbo charge.

Hanging out with Neon Lights is like spending a night with your really good friends when you’re slightly buzzed and suddenly everything is funny – absolutely everything – and you’re laughing so hard that you get a stitch in your side.  Later, you may not remember exactly what it was that made you laugh so hard – and you may get blank stares when you try to explain it to people who weren’t there, but you know that these guys gave you one of the best nights of your life.

Yesterday was opening night.  Tonight – closing night.  I seriously don’t think you’ll find a better way to spend your Sunday — so get your tickets now.

~~~

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Morro and Jasp Gone Wild is what happens to two teen sisters when, on their way to the beach for Spring Break, they take a wrong turn and find themselves with a wrecked car, a trunk full of props, a book outlining Maslow’s Theory of Hierarchy some possibly mood altering substances, and the threat of being eaten (or possibly just cuddled) by a wild animal.

So, a quick run-down on Morro (Heather Marie Annis) and Jasp (Amy Lee) for the uninitiated  – (“the uninitiated” being anyone who didn’t happen to catch their show Morro and Jasp do Puberty at last year’s Clown Festival).  They are sisters.  They are squarely plunked down on opposite ends of the spectrum: Jasp is a girly wide eyed innocent who dreams of have a romantic … dare I say romantical … encounter at the beach a la Sandy from Grease with the boy of her dreams while her sister, Morro is a hard core tom boy rock and roll party girl who couldn’t care less about romance.  She just wants to drink some smuggled beer, and have some fun with her team as they compete in a “Save the Fish” volleyball tournament.  While both sisters have different reasons propelling them they share the same frenzied desire to get to the beach.  To GO WILD.  It’s just your basic teen story of raging hormones as two sisters live the dream, mark off the milestones, and let the chaotic hilarity ensue when it all goes wrong.  Except, you know … they’re clowns.

 

So the question is – are young, eager, exploring clown girls-gone-wild any different than non-clown girls on Spring Break?  And the answer is …um … yeah.  First of all, they’re clowns.  Secondly, their version of “Gone Wild” is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT than what you’re thinking.  Under Byron Laviolette’s direction when clowns go wild by the end of it they’re covered in banana mush, beer, water, mushroom mush and … oh I’m sure other things.  Things I’m not necessarily sure I’d like to understand.  Also, when clowns go wild they ask for audience participation, apparently.  A LOT of it.  But we’ll get to that in a minute.

The road trip starts off like any classic road trip … with a radio battle.   With little more than a few volleys we get an immediate snapshot of who these gals are … Jasp is all Spice Girls / Cher while her sister Morro is Nirvana cranked loud and accompanied by crafty air-guitar.  When Jasp does a fantastic word for word sing-along of TLC’s Waterfalls (not the easy part … not the part we all know … the TRICKY part) and Morro remarks “How do you know that???” we get a perfect snapshot of Jasp as she replies “I spent a few days in my room learning it and I’m going to teach it to you and all your friends on this trip”.  This is an absolutely brilliant moment; clown nose or not we’ve just been given an E-Z Pass to the toll booth of this girl’s heart.

The fight  for radio dominance soon gives way to full on flashback as the girls recount the moment that got them to this trip.  Quicker than you can say “rest stop” the gals get themselves into a jam when they crash the car in the middle of nowhere with nothing but beer, Maslow, suitcase items, and condoms to help them out of their jam.  Hell, their little cell phone doesn’t even work.  Good thing they can borrow yours.

As the evening progresses each performer’s style crystallizes; Lee’s Jasp is a sweet, intellectual wide-eyed type of funny and she comes with a few bells and whistles which are crowd pleasers (a moment when she throws her voice is so astonishing that the audience was brought up short in full-on admiration).  Annis’ Morro is much more of a physical comic; she bends and twists to exaggerate her point and seems to continually find herself the recipient of an action which requires her to throw herself on the floor.

There’s a solid chemistry between the two performers, they trust each other on stage – that’s obvious – and play well off each other.  What would have made Morro and Jasp Gone Wild a slicker production for me would have been more of that interaction and far less audience participation.  Actually – NO audience participation would have given the show much better pacing.  Every time the lights went up it was like hitting a speed bump.

I find it’s always a mixed bag when audience members are asked to take center stage.   There are always three ways this can go.  1: The person chosen winds up being a total dud – gamely playing along, but a dud all the same – and whatever momentum the performance had has now been lost.   Or 2: the person chosen winds up being so self-conscious that they begin to over act, mugging wildly like a little caged bee which forces the actual performer to backpedal just to keep the bit running on course.   Best case scenario would be option 3: the person chosen just happens to know how to be a prop, nothing more, and assists the actors well enough so that the story moves forward.  Once their part is done, they meld back into the audience seamlessly without thinking everyone is staring at them (no one is).

The performance I caught had someone from each category.  I couldn’t help feeling that at those moments the talented women whose performances I was enjoying had just been hijacked by … well … audience members.

Still there is no doubt that the team of Morro and Jasp are laugh-out-loud funny; they have a way of making somewhat taboo things completely acceptable to laugh at and there were times I couldn’t believe that things which usually have me rolling my eyes were bringing forth huge, unladylike like brays of laughter.  And really, in the end, that’s the most important thing.  Some things will hit, some things might miss, but overall Morro and Jasp Gone Wild delivers as promised.  If you’re looking for wild … you’ll find it here.

~~~

Related Posts:

• Wing-Man Soars (Amuse Bouche – NY Clown Theatre Festival)
• Neon Lights – Brighter Than The Sun … And Twice As Funny (Amuse Bouche – NY Clown Theatre Festival)
• VCR Love – Where Do You Go When You’re Alone?
• Barry Lubin: From Grandma To Wing-Man
• Mark Gindick Explains The Serious Business Of Clowning Around