It's a Beautiful Day for Good News, Vol. 6

It's spring. Everything's green, flowers are blooming, Kansas City had the most delightful soft morning thunderstorm the other day, hummingbirds are back in the area... But I'm feeling really down, mostly because of News. I truly believe that the world's Good Things and People far outweigh the Bad, but what we hear on the news is the exact opposite. Every moment, people are choosing to make the world a better place, but we don't often hear those stories. That's why I blog them. Hopefully, the following stories will inspire you, like they inspire me.

A brother is missed, but his birthday is celebrated, with an anonymous 130% tip to the server.

Middle school basketball players defend a bullied cheerleader, in the middle of a game.

A group of women help a chronically-ill friend with a surprise pajama/house-cleaning party. Their subsequent joy is a direct result of their friend "being vulnerable enough to humbly allow us in to see her dirt."

An assisted-living facility is shut down, but two employees stay on, without pay, to help those with nowhere to go.

Writing an obituary for a loved one is hard. Writing one that the loved one would appreciate is even harder, but it's completely worth it.

Thirty-five years after taking pictures of mimes in Central Park, a photographer realizes that he captured a rare treasure.

Two on-duty police officers stop and play street football with some neighborhood kids.

Last year, a man started shooting people in the parking lot of the Jewish Community Center here in KC. Due to the quick actions of many, JCC went on lockdown, but three people were killed in the meantime. In remembrance, a week of kind acts called "Seven Days: Make a Ripple, Change the World" was instituted, culminating in a peace walk on the anniversary of the shootings.






Photos courtesy of Jay Coombes, who hid in his car as the gunman aimed at him in 2014.

"White Rabbit Red Rabbit": A Very Vague Post-Mortem

NO SPOILERS

Last night, I walked onstage, with a prop I didn't know the purpose of, to perform a play I knew nothing about. Cheryl Kimmi, Executive Director of the Kansas City Fringe Festival and producer of the play I was going to do, right then, handed me a sealed manila envelope with my name on it, and took a seat in the audience.

I was alone onstage, with a few props and a couple of set pieces that I hadn't known about before arriving, and didn't know how they were going to be used. I opened the envelope in front of the audience. I knew that it contained the script, and that's everything I knew about what was about to happen.

Moments before, I was alone in the Green Room backstage, pacing and drinking honey straight from the bear, trying to calm down, loosen up, and coat my scratchy throat. I felt very alone. Then I looked around at the show posters around the room. I saw a photo of my dear friend Marcie.Then another close friend, Parry. And sweet Amy. These are people who are very close to my heart, and one reason for that is that they've been part of some of the most moving artistic experiences of my life, all at Fringe. And there was a photo of Coleman, an actor I hold in high regard, who was in Red Death last year. And there was darling Karen, whom breast cancer took away from us a few years ago.

Suddenly, weirdly, and very sappily, I fully realized that I wasn't alone. Everyone in that theatre was rooting for me. Even people who couldn't come to the show, like my aunt, Jean, in Salt Lake City - they were rooting for me too.

So I opened the envelope, and started reading: "White Rabbit Red Rabbit by Nassim Soleimanpour."

In 1994, someone asked me how many plays I'd done. At that point, I counted around 200. Of course, I've done far more since then, than I'd done up until that point. I can't begin to count, but that was over 20 years ago.

The point is, I've done a lot of theatre. Add to that the number of plays I've seen and the number of scripts I've read... I contain a lot of theatre experience.

And White Rabbit Red Rabbit was an experience like none I've ever had before. Nothing even comes close.

I took a journey last night. I'd never seen this land, so I had to trust the playwright, Nassim, a man I've ever met, never heard of, in another country, to keep me safe. I also knew that Cheryl never would have asked me to go on the journey with him if it meant I'd be in danger.

Trust is a very fragile thing. We've all been badly burnt by putting our trust in the wrong people. But going into this play, I had to choose trust. For no good reason other than Nassim and Cheryl chose to trust me.

They chose to trust me. At least Cheryl knows me, and knows how I work. But Nassim doesn't. Still doesn't. It's a fair bet that he still hasn't heard my name, even though I somehow feel very close to him now.

I felt a tremendous sense of responsibility to him. Even as a playwright myself, I've never felt this sort of responsibility to someone's work.

White Rabbit Red Rabbit, in my opinion, is a deeply moving piece of theatre. Nassim sets out to accomplish a number of things, and does so with a surprising variety of tactics and emotion. There was a lot of laughter last night. And though I can't speak for anyone else (because stage lights are bright), I know I cried many tears.

I had a transformative experience last night. Maybe because I let the play be what it was. Nassim was exactly right about how his work needed to be presented. Without any previous knowledge from the participants.

I hate being vague about this. But you need to know nothing about this play until you are there, onstage or in the audience.

My life expanded last night. And for that, I am exceedingly grateful.

"White Rabbit Red Rabbit": The Play I'm Performing that I'm Not Allowed to Know Anything About

 

"The play they are not allowed to talk about. Iranian playwright Nassim Soleimanpour was denied a passport because his status as conscientious objector. Unable to travel, he wrote a play which, since its premier in 2011, has taken audiences by storm and been celebrated worldwide as one of the most transformative and original evenings in theatre. Every performance is unique - and a surprise for the brave actor who is not allowed to see the script until the moment they arrive on stage, joining the audience on a journey into the unknown; stumbling upon the personal and profound, the limits of liberty and ultimately where theatre can take you, with or without a passport."

Now you know as much as I do about the play that I'm performing on Monday. No, really.

The Kansas City Fringe Festival is producing this run, with a different actor every night. Why? Because the playwright, for what I'm sure is a very good reason, doesn't want the actor to see the script until it is handed to them, onstage, in front of their audience.

No, I don't get any time to look it over before I start acting. Zero minutes.

Yeah. 'S craziness. I know.

I've talked to a few of the other people slated to perform this piece, and they seem quite casual about it. Sort of a "No rehearsal? No problem!" kind of thing. I guess part of me feels that way, but it goes against my natural tendencies.

I've always been one, when faced with a challenge, to research the heck out of it. It's akin to knowing your enemy, I guess. Google is my best friend.

But for this play? No. No research! Bad Tara!

It was a very difficult urge to contend with at first. As time passed, I got used to the idea of not worrying about it so much. (That's quite a feat, in and of itself, because I worry about everything.) But then...

It opened. Last week.

And now, I'm scared that I'll accidentally learn something I'm not supposed to know, by some well-meaning audience member letting details slip.

For instance: Here's KC Fringe's Director of Development, Brent Kimmi, discussing the project on Kansas City Live. My name might be mentioned once. Or twice. (The selection they perform is not from "White Rabbit Red Rabbit." It's from our 2012 play, "Sexing Hitler." Obviously, since it's on daytime network television, it's not as racy as it sounds.) But Brent uses the word "interaction," and now I feel like I know too much.

The suspense is killing me.

Then suddenly, last night, a thought: What if there's more than one script, and an audience doesn't know which script they'll see performed until they show up? I mean, how would I know? How would the audience know? An audience member could see it two or three times, and just always see the same script performed, luck of the draw? Then I could get up in front of the audience on Monday, get handed the script, and just say anything at all. The audience would pretty much HAVE to believe me! I could recite pieces of audition monologues I've done over the years, or describe my breakfast in great detail, or confess deep secrets, or relate stories about students, or anything! AND I wouldn't have to wear reading glasses! ...oh. Well. There you go. If I'm not wearing reading glasses, it's a pretty good bet that I'm making it up. Now you know my secret.

It has not escaped me that this theatre experiment is something of an analogy for life. You never know what's coming, you can never fully prepare. You show up, and deal with the script that you're handed.

I mean, I teach improv, for crying out loud. I know about jumping in. I know about saying "yes." I know about not knowing.

So how is this project different? It's... not, I suppose. Hm.

If you're interested in seeing this fascinating experiment, here's the link to the Facebook event page, where you can read some of the fretful thoughts and conversations, and here's the link to purchase tickets.

If you're interested in the possibility of seeing me fall flat on my face... well, the same links will work.

Project Pride presents: Meet Me in the CafeQUEERia

 

I apologize profusely for not posting about this sooner, but my life has been a crazy neck-and-neck race of projects recently. (And let's not even talk about having time to do my taxes. Oy.) But I have to share this deeply meaningful project with you, and it opens tomorrow.

 

Project Pride is the teen LGBTQ+ and straight allied theatre troupe of which I am co-director. The intention of the group is to give teens a vehicle to express themselves, to educate audiences about the challenges of being a queer teen, so we can give them what they need for support (not what just we think they need). They spend months devising scenes, which the directors then help shape into a cohesive performance piece.

 

I've done a lot of theatre in my life. I've done a lot of all kinds of performancy things. I've directed a lot. I've had a lot of acting students.

Project Pride has been one of the most important and profoundly moving experiences of my life. These young people astound me on a regular basis, with their acceptance of each other, their passion and enthusiasm, their strength, their compassion, and their determination to make the world a more loving place.

It is not easy for them. Nor is it always easy to support them. The world is full of people who are too-ready to jump to conclusions, be proud of their ignorance, and reject things they don't understand.

But these young people need us to be on their side.

And I need them. They are beautiful.

Here is the link to our Facebook event page, for more information about the show this weekend: https://www.facebook.com/events/879041238785172/

Please join us. There is laughter and silliness, and poignancy and depth. But mostly, there is love.

It's a Beautiful Day for Good News, Vol. 5

A new installment of my semi-regular serial attempt to counteract the message from common media that The World is a Sad, Bad, Dangerous Place. Good stuff happens all the time.

Australia's hostage crisis in December brought out the best in some people.

A tattoo artist doesn't charge his weekly customer.

A man's inspiring obituary reveals that he is, in fact, Spiderman.

In a touching and supporting move, parents correct a birth announcement, nineteen years later.

A mom writes an open letter to the Trader Joe's employee who probably doesn't know the impact her actions had.

Left at the altar, a woman celebrates herself, with the help of her family and friends, in the best photo shoot ever.

In a Philadelphia restaurant, customers pay-it-forward with pizza.

Now, here's my favorite laughing baby video ever, and a photo of a baby hedgehog.

My 2014 in Review

Is it a natural urge to look back on the calendar year and weigh it as positive or negative, productive or wasted? Or is it an act of artificial significance, thrust upon us by society ("2014 sucked for me") and the media ("Best Dressed Stars of 2014," "Those We Lost in 2014," etc.)?

 

New Year resolutions never made much sense to me. If you know you want to make changes, why don't you make them as soon as you think of it? Why wait for a certain date? Is it the arbitrary declaration of a "new year = fresh slate" or something?

 

Regardless, I was going through a dark period a few months ago, and decided to list what I'd accomplished so far in 2014. It did make me feel better, so maybe there's something to reviewing the year after all. So...

 

TARA'S YEAR IN REVIEW

WRITING:

• Variations on a Theme: a 60-minute one-act, with a staged reading at the Fishtank
• Role Play: a short play, with a staged reading at the Fishtank
• In the Cradle: a short play
• "The Cute Little Woman, Young Jacob, and Me": a story-poem, conceived as a children's book
• "Road Trip": a poem of uncertain genre
• (And drafts of a play that we hope to be our 2015 Fringe entry...)

DIRECTING:

• Variations on a Theme: staged reading at the Fishtank
• Role Play: staged reading at the Fishtank
• American Institution, by Bryan Colley: staged reading at the Midwest Dramatists Center
• Project Pride presents: Queerios!: co-director, stage production at The Coterie and KC Fringe
• Project Pride presents: We Are: co-director, stage production at TedX YouthKC
• Red Death: opera by Bryan Colley and Daniel Doss, at KC Fringe
• Honk, Jr: stage production for the Coterie Acts

PERFORMING:

• "The Cute Little Woman, Young Jacob, and Me": a story-poem (at two different events)
• Bad Auditions, directed by Kevin King: KC Fringe
• Variations on a Theme: Narrator
• Role Play: Narrator
• American Institution, by Bryan Colley: Narrator
• Pecha Kucha, at the Middle of the Map Festival
• Dickens Carolers: my eleventh (?) season

TEACHING:

• Superheroes Save the Day, grades 2-4: The Coterie
• Sketch Comedy, grades 8-12: The Coterie
• Be and Awesome Inventor Like Phineas and Ferb, grades 2-4: The Coterie
• Audition Lab, grades 8-12: The Coterie
• Funny Bones, grades 5-7: The Coterie
• Make a Scene, grades 3-5: The Coterie
• Make a Scene, grades 3-5 (again): The Coterie
• Scenes from a Dystopian Future, grades 8-12: The Coterie
• Mythical Creature Academy, grades 2-4: The Coterie
• Acting Fundamentals, grades 5-7: The Coterie
• The Very Hungry Caterpillar, grades K-1: Community School of the Arts
• Dramarama (playwriting), grades 3-5
• Dramarama (acting), grades 4-5
• Dramarama (acting), grades 2-3
• Dramarama (acting), grades K-1
 

...which, by the way, brings my total number of students (since 2011, when I thought to start counting) to 728.

That's a lot in one year. I think. I don't know, it's just what I do.

 

From here, at the top of the 2015 ride, I'm looking the first half of the year, which so far contains:

• Teaching "Rock 'n' Roll Roadshow", grades 5-7, for The Coterie (starting January)
• Teaching "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane," grades 2-4, for The Coterie (starting January)
• Teaching Dramarama Acting, grades 2-3 (starting January)
• Teaching Dramarama Acting, grades K-1 (starting April)
• Directing the staged reading of Amanuensis, by Bryan Colley (February)
• Co-directing Project Pride's performance at the Coterie (March)
• Leading a children's improv workshop for Johnson County Public Libraries (March)
• Performing in White Rabbit, Red Rabbit (March)
• Directing Silver, a ballet noir by Christian Hankel (July)
• Writing/directing/producing a new original play at KC Fringe (July)

I think I'm going to bed now. I need to rest up.

 

A Child's View of Theatre Magic

Last night, I attended a high school production of "Shrek the Musical." Seated next to me, in the front row, was a friend's three-year-old son. By his reactions, I would say that this was probably his first play.

It is an absolute delight for a theatre educator to sit next to a small child who is experiencing a live stage production for the first time. His eyes were wide. He was absolutely rapt. He gasped, and held his hands over his mouth. He laughed out loud. He was full of questions: "Why is it dark?" "Why is she alone?" "What's that sound?" "Where did the dragon go?" He mimicked what he heard actors say, including the line, "I should have worn a cup," which may or may not have made his phys ed-teacher father proud. He put his head on my shoulder, which, I'm told, is quite unusual for him. He got scared as the dragon got closer to the edge of the stage, and needed the safety of his dad's arms, so over the back of the seat he went, to his dad in the row behind us.

I'm in a place where "regular" theatre doesn't excite me much anymore. I need new and different stimulation. I guess I'm kind of jaded. But spending the evening next to a child who's just discovering theatre was, for me, an incredible reminder that what we do can be magical.