Details & photos of the #HiglandKATs trip to come, but for now, I give you: Not the video so much, but this song has been running through my head. And alternating with it, is the Map song from Dora the Explorer. Because I used to watch that show with my niece. And that's how my brain works. You're welcome.
![]() Just a quick run down of the last couple of weeks and a preview of the next couple - it's pretty damn exciting...
It's been a time of great loss recently - in the Chicago community 5 artists (that I know of) have passed away...several very suddenly and in unexpected ways. All at 'too young' of an age. Also, a dear friend from my college days lost his mother.
I've had a wide range of emotional responses - guilt for not knowing what to say; sorrow on behalf of the families left to pick up the pieces; apathy because mentally I know that people die every day all over the world "why should this be special"; shame at my lack of empathy; and then empathy as I speak words of a monologue about loss and am suddenly hit by the enormity & personal impact of those words: "She is dead; and this was death indeed." Emotions have a way of happening with no regard to appropriate timing or social norms - it hits you and you react. Of course, as we grow into adulthood, we learn more of the social constructs of what is 'okay' to share and what should be kept behind closed doors. This often creates blocks to mental health as we strive to do the 'right thing' even as the definition of 'right' is in constant flux. Friday night, backstage at the Babes' production of Witch Slap!, the cast of ladies bonded a bit (even more than before!!) as we all attempted to prepare to perform in a comedy when none of us could really see beyond the pain & shock of so much loss. Don't ask me how, but we all decided to belch as loudly as we could. LoJo is a champion belcher - she can do it on command, and be heard from more than one room away. So the rest of us passed around a 1 liter of RC Cola and did our best to let fly with a 'life-affirming belch'. It worked...Maybe because it was silly, or because it was a physical affirmation of our own bodies still being vibrant, or because it made us feel like adolescents (who are always full of life), but whatever it was, it clicked. We felt better. We felt alive. We felt able to basically go play dress-up & put on a show for more folks who needed a release; a laugh; an affirmation of life. To me, this is one of the greatest powers of theatre and I'm so proud to be a part of this calling, with so many other wonderful, dedicated, and generous souls. I had a lovely time at the opening night of The Coward last night. I was surrounded by friends, I had lots to laugh at, I was inspired by music, and I got to stare down a fellow audience member. I've had the experience previously: my sense of humor is...unique. Special? Different...okay, freakish. I guess. I laugh, OUT LOUD, at things that tickle my funny bone (heh, heh, I said "bone"). Sexual innuendo cracks me up. Chekhov, done well, makes me giggle like a toddler as someone tears paper in front of me (exhibit A). I've gotten glares before, where I find something funny, laugh, and then someone nearby glances in my direction with a slightly raised eyebrow and a confused expression. They appear to be wondering if I know something they don't...maybe, I do.
But last night's show WAS special! The Coward is a comedy - a silly, off beat, period piece with fun characters, oddball situations, powdered-wigs and more. What's not to giggle at? So, I laughed, out loud - along with several people around me, I might add, so this wasn't one of those times where my sense of humor was totally out of whack with the audience or tone of the play. Well, someone apparently thought it was. A fellow audience member began looking in my direction (not sure if it was at me, as I say, other folks in the audience were also tickled by the goings-on on stage) and he'd stare for about 3 seconds with a look of admonishment on his face. Brows arched, eyes accusing. I'm not gonna lie, it struck me as funny. The more I laughed, the more I noticed this person noticing (& judging?) me, the more I found it funny that he was so engrossed in the off-stage world, instead of the show he was presumably there to watch. By the time I thought of counting (mid-way through Act II), he looked in my direction no fewer than 9 times. One of those times, I engaged him - I laughed, he looked, I looked back, laughing, as if to say, "Hey, this is fun, isn't it?". He stared, I laughed more, I raised my brows to indicate that I could judge him for not laughing just as much as he could judge me for laughing. I'm (childishly) pleased to say I won that little staring/daring contest! While your experience may be different (unless this person decides to attend every performance) I think you'll probably find some reasons to really enjoy this production. The soundtrack is phenomenal and makes the scene changes a special treat. There's some really great character work and I loved the guy who played the father (I'm not a reviewer, I don't need to get names right!) and the lead's pals were a lovely balance (though the guy I enjoyed the most was also the hardest to understand - great vocal choice, but it could have used some diction exercises & air support to make it clearer for us trying to hear). The premise is fairly universal (how to break from the shadow of what our parents want us to be, family disappointment, fitting into social constructs) and this was a really fun take on 'what if' certain choices were made. So if you want to laugh, go ahead & check out Stage Left Theatre's production of The Coward (runs through October 5th). Assuming, of course, that you've already seen Witch Slap! :-) |
Archives
September 2018
Kimberly Logan
This is my blog (aka: mind dump). For my full site, please visit www.ActorForHire.net Categories
All
|