Warm Summer Evenings

The last couple weeks it has been very cold and, with no heat running into our apartment, there were times I swore I could almost see my breath.

This week we got a warm spell and it's 60 degrees outside at 10:00 at night, and NOW the landlords have turned on the heat. I'm sweating.

Seriously, folks. Seriously.

Tears

I'm less and less enthralled with emotional acting these days.

Watching an actor who uses their own emotions as a basis for their performance, I'm always wondering how far they can push it before it goes over the edge. Before they lose control. It doesn't seem safe, and it distances me from the performance because I'm worried about the actor instead of invested in the story.

When an actor relies on communicating through emotions (whatever that means- usually just crying or yelling), they are making decisions for how the audience should feel and think. It's manipulative. It demands empathy and identification rather than consideration. I don't like being taken for a ride.

How did theatre become about who-can-reveal-the-most, who-can-be-the-most-vulnerable, who-can-summon-the-most-tears? It seems so self-involved. I prefer to watch a performance that makes me feel something, rather than seeing how someone else feels about it.

Okay, so maybe it's not emotional acting that bothers me. It's bad emotional acting.

"Downstairs Killer" Update

We ran into the landlord downstairs last night and she was thrilled to tell us that Ziggy has been released from custody and is home.

Whoo hoo.

We were told that he may not be getting charged with murder after all, and there are some fingerprints on his car that seem to indicate that he was attacked by the other men first.

Is it evil of me that I'm seriously not sure whether the self-defense makes it a better story or not? Which sounds better to you?

"Neighbor Kills Kid for Cutting in Front of Him at Falafel Stand"
or
"Neighbor Fends Off Falafel Fiends- Three-Against-One Ends in Surprising Stabbing"?

Stacks and Stacks

I am now paying the price for taking five days off last week.

Finals are the next two weeks.

My thesis proposal is getting turned in this week. Hopefully.

Next week I am submitting two semester-long cumulative projects that I haven't exactly been actually working on all semester.

And...sometime...before the semester ends I have to write my 30-some page Review of the Literature, which I've started writing (thank God), but I haven't entirely reviewed all of the literature.

Yikes.

Shouted Conversations

We got home exhausted after a noisy red-eye flight and a circuitous cab-ride home and decided to take a quick snooze before beginning the work day. We tore off the clothes we'd been wearing for the previous 24 hours and collapsed on the bed in a pile of blankets and cats.

Several minutes later we hear keys in the lock and our apartment door opens. "Hello?" we yell out, our near-nakedness stopping us from rushing to the kitchen. It's our upstairs neighbor, Matt, coming by to feed the cats. He didn't realize we were back today.

This discovery is followed by a longer-than-appropriate conversation shouted between rooms about the cats and our flight and the music-rehearsal that will be taking place upstairs later today.

Matt left and we fell back asleep.

Relaxation and Rifles

I'm back home after a long weekend in Washington, and it's sixty degrees and sunny here in New York. A notable improvement over yesterday's snowstorms.

Being back home for a couple days was very, very good. It was relatively conflict-free, as far as family events go, and we had some good bonding times including

• getting a massage with my sister
• a never-ending game of Risk with my brothers
• helping my mom pick out a new setting for her engagement ring
• going shooting with Dad and watching Zach shoot a handgun for the first time (yikes!)

It was good to see that Mom has been improving since last week, but it is also clear that she's not completely better. The trip has raised questions for me about whether she will ever be completely better and what my new role is as her daughter. I spent a good amount of the weekend trying to convince her not to go to work today, but to rest for a few more days. But she's pretty sure that if she doesn't go back to teaching immediately, she may never go back. It's difficult to watch her grappling with her identity now that she has no kids at home and is being told that she may have to finish her career early.

Speaking of rest, I got a lot of it myself, which is odd considering it was a family holiday. I took some homework but didn't do any of it, and I was able to realize for the first time in awhile that there is a world outside of New York and NYU and that my work is not the sum total of my life. There is, in fact, a light at the end of the tunnel and it was a little easier to see from the outside. The next three weeks before the semester ends will be pretty intense, but I think I can handle it if I buckle down, and then I will REALLY be able to enjoy the break next month. (Note to write about later: possible indefinite break...)

It's Snowing!!!

We woke up this morning to a heavy snowfall, which has actually managed to make the desert look beautiful. Zach and I are meeting AJ and L down in Oregon to drive to Portland, from where we will fly home tonight. That drive shouldn't be too bad. My sister and brothers, however, have to head over the pass today, and much discussion has been had about the best strategy for avoiding weather and other drivers as they head back towards Seattle. Should they leave early and try to miss the heavy holiday traffic? Should they drive later when the roads have warmed up and the plows have been working? A vigorous debate.

I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving and safe travels home!

You Know You're in Pasco When...

It takes five hours and three trips to the grocery store to make a coffee cake
A game of Risk is played, abandoned, re-started, and re-abandoned several times over as many days
You pull out five containers of cream cheese from the fridge before you find one that hasn't expired in the last six monthsTime just works differently here.

Would YOU get fired?

I had an interesting experience in a high school class yesterday. We were doing some drama activities to explore theme from a book, The Glass Castle, that the students had seen a stage adaptation of the week before. I asked them to choose a scene or moment in the play that stuck out to them, and then use dramatic techniques to present that scene in a different way than they had seen the actor do it. I encouraged them to use narration, tableaux, and a more abstract style. I gave them a few minutes to work and a copy of the script so that they had the exact words to refer to if they needed it.

Now imagine what it looked like when one group decided to re-enact the following lines with movement and narration:

"Rose Mary, where the goddamn hell are you, you stinking bitch?" yelled Dad....he knocked her to the floor..she grabbed a butcher knife and slashed it through the air in front of him...He picked up a knife, too, and pinned Mom's hands behind her head..."

It was considerably longer, but you get the idea.

My heart was in my throat watching a sixteen year old boy standing above a fourteen year old girl laying on the floor beneath him, pretending to kick her. They did the scene beautiful with a minimum of uncomfortable laughter, but my heart was thumping. The class was being observed by their classroom teacher and two school administrators, and even though I knew they had seen the play, were reading the book, choose the scene themselves and decided on their own how to re-enact it, I was convinced I had gone over the line.

I've worked at several places where those three minutes would have gotten me fired.

I don't like violence, even in drama. I don't like seeing kids fake-hit, fake-slap, fake-shoot, fake-stab, fake-punch, fake-fall. I don't think its safe. And I know for a fact that several kids in that room see scenes like that every day at home, so had this scene stopped being fiction?

Oddly enough, I was the only one who thought a line had been crossed. The general response from the kids was "that was funny" and when I thanked the two kids who had been acting for dealing with such rough material, they looked at me like I was...an unintelligible adult. The administrators came over to me, beaming. "Aren't these kids great?!"

I've been thinking of ways that I could have made that class safer, given them more structure, been watching out for them better. But apparently I was the only one with a problem.

Evil work, but it must be done

Enjoy all the Lauren here. (I have to post pictures to my blog first in order to put them on my profile) Apologies for the gratuitous self-love.

The Trashy Pirates at the Coney Island Mermaid Parade...

An awkward seating arrangement...

A balancing act...

Make like a tree...

A hard day at work...

7th Street...
My fuzzer munchkins...

Extremes

I am so cold in my apartment that I have turned on all the lights, lit all the candles, and just turned on the oven to 200 degrees and left the door slightly open.

I called my landlord, and she called me sweetheart and told me that they had turned it on last night. I assured her they hadn't and she said she would take care of it, but she sounded upset, possibly due to the fact that her son, my former downstairs neighbor, is still in jail on charges of second degree murder. I'm not sure if my freeziness registers as a priority right now.

Looking for the Unicorn

We've been half-heartedly looking for a new apartment for the last month or so. We like our apartment, but it is a little small, and we wanted to find somewhere with a deck or garden and possibly space for an office. Also we want to stay in our neighborhood and not pay too much more and have enough time to move in that we don't lose our deposit. Picky? Perhaps. But moving in New York is an expensive and time-consuming proposition, and it's not worth it unless you find just the right place.

We were looking half-heartedly for awhile, but then we found ourselves going to see several apartments a week and stretching our standards of what we wanted. "Well, it's only a little over two thousand, and that's okay, right?" (It isn't'.) "Sure it doesn't have a deck, but we could climb out of the bathroom window onto the fire escape..." "I guess this is still Park Slope..." And so on. After finding two almost-perfect places and getting rejected from both of them (stupid cats), we gave up and just went to Ikea to buy some new shelving for our old place.

And then, this weekend, we got the itch again. The first one we saw was advertised as:
The MoST BeautiFul apT in PARK SLOPE iS wAiTinG FOr YOU
THIS APARTMENT WAS DESIGNED SO THAT WHOEVER SAW IT WOULD FEEL AS IF THEY WOULD BE A KING OR QUEEN IT IS ABSOLUTELY STUNNING.

How could we not go look?

It was beautiful, actually, with brand new stainless steel appliances and exposed brick and track lighting, but it isn't any bigger than where we are now, it's across the street from an abandoned warehouse, and it cost $700 more a month than what we pay now. Granite countertops and "working" fireplaces do not justify that amount without additional space.

The other place we looked at today was much nicer and more affordable- not quite as high-end remodeling, but brand new kitchen and bathroom and a beautiful garden patio. The only downside is that the bedroom is at the front of the building on the street, but the extra space makes up for that. I'm imagining myself typing this now in the sunny alcove off of the kitchen...

The funny thing about this place is that the owner is my boss's partner, so my boss lives upstairs and would be a de-facto landlord. Too weird? We like each other, but would that change if we lived in the same building? Would she judge me professionally for being out too late on the patio drinking? I'm trying to decide if knowing the landlord's girlfriend is a leg-up or a down-side in this situation.

Why can't we be happy where we are? Probably because the guy downstairs got arrested for murder and they haven't turned the heat on since the beginning of the month. But moving is an expensive and time-consuming ordeal. And you have to find that perfect place.

Video Storms

This weekend was very theatreful. Friday was our performance of "The Light Princess" at the Provincetown Playhouse. It went very well- only a couple hiccups in pacing.

Nicole and I did a quick introduction before the performance explaining the devising process, and we mentioned that we had only been rehearsing for three weeks and that it was "a work in progress." Since then, I've been wondering if we were apologizing for the weak spots in the show (of which there were several). I don't like artists apologizing for their work, but somehow with this show it seemed necessary to explain where we were. Because of the lights and fabulous puppets and costumes and all that, it looked like it should have been polished and perfect, but the reality was that we hadn't gotten a full script until a week before and we were still actively devising. We weren't at a performance level- not for a lack of work but for a lack of time- and it wouldn't be fair to put that standard on ourselves when we knew all along we weren't going to meet it. We always knew that this performance was going to be a work-in-progress, and it seemed appropriate to let the audience know that. What do you think? Did I weaken the work by making excuses for it, or was I being transparent about the process?

We got some great feedback during the talk-back and Nicole and I are thinking about ways to take the project forward. Maybe submit it for some festivals or find some places around town with family programming. If anyone has any tips...

Tonight we went to BAM to see La Tempete, a French production of everyone's favorite slapstick comedy. There were some crazy three-dimensional video projections, used to great effect in the storm at the beginning and during Ariel's scenes, but a full seven characters only existed as projections, which was more distancing than engaging.


It was interesting to see how the technology is being used. I wasn't crazy about the show, but it was very different from anything else I've seen. Unfortunately, I think they relied on the crazy visuals to compensate for an otherwise lackluster production. I think the acting was bad, but it was hard to tell since it was all in shouted French.

Homeward Bound

Zach and I decided last night to get tickets home for Thanksgiving. Its going to be good to be home for a couple days.

Mom is doing better- she went home last night and has been improving steadily since they turned off her medication. The MRI was inconclusive and they still aren't entirely sure what went wrong, but hopefully we'll have some answers soon.

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers- It has been very comforting to me.

Side Note: Tickets on Thanksgiving day are a third of the price that they are the day before Thanksgiving. Thusly, we'll be having turkey on the plane.

Additionally: Although one can easily fly into Pasco, WA., it is very difficult to get a ticket out. Why could this be? Could it be that more people are leaving than coming? Could it be that there is a scheme in place to keep people in? Either way, we are very glad that we can hop a ride to Portland on Sunday night to fly back to NYC. Being stuck in Pasco is an unsettling feeling...

Oops

Is it bad when the director of a show reaches opening (and closing) night and hasn't yet memorized the five lines that she took on because of a change in casting? Does that make her a bad director or a bad actor or both?

To be fair, it's opening morning, not opening night. She still has 10 hours, and it's only five lines. Let's see...that's one line every two hours...or one cue line every hour and one line every other hour...

Puppets!

Come and see "The Light Princess" on Friday at the Provincetown Playhouse @ 133 McDougal, right off of Washington Square. This ensemble-devised adaptation of George MacDonald's Victorian fairy-tale was facilitated by Nicole Mitzel and myself and features some kick-ass puppets and masks (mostly made by nicole, some of which I helped on). There's magic and music and mayhem and it's all free! 8 pm! You only have an excuse if you're in a different time-zone.

A Lack of Resources

I've had a rough couple weeks. I just finished the annual conference I organize and am in the middle of writing my thesis proposal and have a show opening on Friday and have been teaching more than I expected to. But I can do it all, because I asked for it, right?

But on Tuesday night my mom was hospitalized. She was in parent/teacher conferences and her principal realized she couldn't talk coherently so she sent her to the hospital because she thought she was having another stroke. My dad was out of town and had trouble getting back, and its been hard getting information because Mom can't talk very well, but it seems that she's either had a stroke or is having a severe reaction to the new pain medication that she's been on. Either way, its very scary to talk to a parent on the phone from 2500 miles away and have them make no sense.

So I'm feeling like the balancing act of sheer will-power that is my professional and academic life is coming to an end. My efforts were based in the fact that my personal life could take care of itself. Now I am faced with a lack of resources, and I'm not sure what's going to be the first thing to go.

Speaking Up

When should we speak up to those in power? I have no problem speaking against those who are abstractly in power, largely in power, and far away while in power. But I'm struggling with how to speak up to someone who is actually in power over me. That is to say, someone who has direct power to say whether I get to earn an income or not, whether I get to maintain my professional relationships or not.

I'm not talking about starting a revolution. I'm not talking about being rude or threatening. I just want to speak to someone about how I assess my own work without kissing their ass in the process. Is this pride/defensiveness or professional integrity?

It is important to show respect to those who have more experience and take the thoughtful suggestions of those who have been doing the work a lot longer, so when so I speak up?

A Good Reason to Stay Home

This month one of my jobs is to facilitate pre-show and post-show workshops for classes that are coming to see The Bluest Eye- Steppenwolf's adaptation of Morrison's Pulitzer-winning novel. Her language is rich with questions of love, identity, beauty and ugliness, the possibility and desirability of being "normal". Sounds pretty perfect for middle and high school students, doesn't it?

One of my workshops got cancelled because the principal at the school found out that the play dealt with incest and rape and this struck her as inappropriate for young people. Her argument (and I'm not sure why I'm shocked) was that there are probably kids in her school that are dealing with these issues in their personal life, and seeing the play might open up a can of worms that the school isn't' able to deal with.

Because, clearly, if a student is dealing with incest and rape, then they probably have a safe home environment to talk about these things and school is just not the place. The best idea is to just reinforce that these subjects are NOT OKAY for us to talk about. A little shame and secrecy never hurt anyone.

On a side note of programming theatre for young people: it turns out that comedy that kids find funny is more often than not threatening to adults (especially teachers). So if you don't want your students making farty noises and off-color puns all the way home on the bus, then don't take them to see a comedy show for your school field-trip.

It's either a sign that I'm growing up or that I'm definitely not, but I'm starting to think that if parents and teachers are a little uncomfortable with the content, then the artist might be doing something right.

The Elephant

I've been thinking a lot lately about epistemology. How we know things. How we know that we know things. And most important for the Masters candidate, how we tell people what we know so that they know that we know it.

Academia survives on the premise that we can know things and communicate what we know. How else would we publish articles and write books and present things at conferences? Logical Positivism wasn't taken very seriously for very long in the philosophical world- its internal inconsistencies quickly discounted it as a logical system. But in Academia it is alive and well.

Postmodernism, however, is no longer just a fringe argument of feminists and angst-ridden existentialists. Postmodernism, and its acknowledgement of the subjectivity of learning, communication and understanding, is firmly embedded in our cultural psyche.

So what happens when a bunch of Logical Positivists, who only believe in what they can see and can report, walk into a room with an elephant called Postmodernism standing in the middle? They hem and haw and grumble, but they can't deny that there is in fact an elephant in the middle of the room, but it is very inconvenient because this particular elephant might get in the way of their arguments about "reliability" and "objectivity" and "generalization"- which they need to publish. We can't have journals filling with articles about elephants!!!!

So they create a system of rules and procedures that allows us to have objectivity and reliability even though the elephant is clearly telling us that we can't. "Yes, there is an elephant. And yes, it is very large and we can all see it. But let's pretend for a few minutes that the elephant is actually just a picture of an elephant, and if you follow our rules you can manage to still acknowledge the elephant and at the same time deny that it weighs several tons and is preventing us from seeing each other across the room." And if everyone agrees to follow these rules, then we don't have a problem!

Because knowledge may be subjective, but we still have to agree to pretend that it isn't, or else what kind of research could we do?

I was pretty sure all along that I wanted to live in Academia because it sure seems to beat getting a real job. Now I'm not so sure. I like elephants. I like talking about them. I don't mind how big they are. And I don't think I'm interested in spending my career pretending that I don't know what I can see right in front of me.