Women’s Project loses NEA Funding

Just got an email that the Women’s Project lost its NEA funding.

From Susan Jonas’ email:

No theatre is more significant in terms of its historic commitment to this mission. The theatre has survived some rough times and has come through administratively and artistically, especially after this last wonderful show. And think of the many many women writers and directors who got their starts at The WP over the last 30 years. Where would we be without them?

So what could possibly be the rationale for the cut? The mission simply not important to the NEA? The tax-payers? The nation? The female half of the population? The 62% female ticket buyers?… Amazing timing with the recent piece on the under-representation of women playwrights written by Marsha Norman in the last issue of AMERICAN THEATER.

What do you think people?

HEAD VI + 2(X)IST AT DANSPACE, 11/14 8PM

From our pal Travis Chamberlain:

What is it?  A nihilistic comedy!  The dans macabre of Francis Bacon’s obsessions evolves into a birthday party hosted by a cult of existential underwear models. With Erin Markey, Max Steele, Rick Herron, Joseph Keehn, and Jen Hammaker as Innocent X, the theremin-playing pope!  Plus a dance corps of men wearing nothing but their underwear and a strip of bacon.

ONE NIGHT ONLY!

Saturday, 11/14 at 8pm

Food For Thought

Danspace/St. Mark’s Church

2nd Ave and 10th St. (Manhattan)

Tickets are $10 at the door

Or $5 with 2 cans of food—hence “Food For Thought”

Five Questions for George Lugg

IMG_0311Name: George Lugg
Title: Associate Director, REDCAT
URL: www.redcat.org

1. Where did you grow up and how did you end up where you are now?

The first half of my childhood was spent on Long Island, in a housing development where the streets were named after American-made cars. I lived on DeVille Drive. My family then moved to Madison, Indiana, a small town on the Ohio River and settled into a house on Main Street. Really. And after the initial shock, I became actually quite happy, and my father, rather unexpectedly, started acting in Louisville, Kentucky, where a former NYC firefighter who spoke like a guy from the Bronx met the demand for tough guys and cops and smarmy businessmen in a town where everyone had a drawl. That began my association with theaters, and is probably why I have almost no interest in traditional theater. I dreamed of being a French teacher. Which lead me to Paris for a bit, where I met an interesting band of Seattlites, followed them back to Seattle, and wound my way to On the Boards in 1989, where I saw so much work that excited and interested me that I’ve pretty much been working in the field ever since.

2. Which performance, song, play, movie, painting or other work of art had the biggest influence on you and why?

It would have to be Jay Anson’s horror novel 666, his follow-up to Amityville Horror. It was the first time I really remember thinking “this is crap.” I can’t think of a more defining moment. I was in the 6th grade and living on Long Island and I had thought Amityville Horror was the coolest book ever. So I grabbed this fat, paperback edition off a rack at the library and didn’t even make it through the first chapter. It broke my trust. Evil voices were rendered in ALL CAPS! It was forced and unbelievable and cheap. Something started to take shape in my consciousness: that I was on my own. That the library was probably filled with useless things, and that I couldn’t be passive and had to hunt for things of value. It was the beginning of an independent opinion, and perhaps a quest.

3. What skill, talent or attribute do you most wish you had and why?

I would like to know exactly how to let go. It’s this thing that I understand intellectually: That is the past, it is no longer relevant… But, really, do we have conscious control of such things? If so, I would like some instruction. Grief, longing, love, a humiliating moment—–what the hell are they anchored to? I can play shrink with myself and say “Obviously, you don’t really want to let go of these things.” But I am pretty sure I do, I just don’t seem to get the mechanics. So I wait. And you’d be surprised how long it can take to forget.

4. What do you do to make a living? Describe a normal day.

I work for REDCAT in Los Angeles. My title is Associate Director. Maybe it’s like bowling. I take hundreds of little details and roll them into a ball. Then I stand and look head-on at a line-up of pins, take aim, and try to knock down as many as I can. I think that’s right. Only at the end of the day, whether I’ve knocked them all down or missed entirely, there’s a show.

5. Have you ever had to make a choice between work and art? What did you choose, why, and what was the outcome?

Yeah, sure. I chose my job. Because it was the right thing to do, for me. Now I have a job.

Yes We Can Benefit for Judson’s Cans

Judson Memorial Church
and Movement Research
present

YES WE CAN!
- a bathroom art auction and benefit party -

Friday, November 6, 2009 | 6:00 – 8:30pm
Judson Memorial Church
55 Washington Square South

 

The acclaimed Judson Memorial Church will dip into its historic archives for a benefit party and auction of works by noted artists, including Robert Rauschenberg, Claes Oldenburg, Christo and Jean-Claude, and Yoko Ono, to raise much-needed funds to renovate the Church’s bathrooms.

The benefit (tickets only $20) will take place on Friday, November 6, from 6:00 to 8:30pm, at the Judson Memorial Church at 55 Washington Square South.

During the event, guests will enjoy ample free food and drink, as well as entertainment by surprise guest artists, while surveying the rare roster of Judson treasures featured in a live and silent auction. Items include art works by Rauschenberg, Oldenburg, Christo, and Ono, as well as photographs including the work of Peter Moore, photographic chronicler of the Judson arts scene.

Bidders will also find a wealth of goods and services, including a case of wine, dance classes at Mark Morris Dance Center, massage and physical therapy sessions, acrobatics training, triathlon training, a cheese tasting, and much more. (See longer list of auction items after the jump)

Proceeds from the Yes We Can benefit will help to address the church’s most pressing capital needs, namely the deteriorating condition of the restrooms.  Refurbishing these fundamental amenities is vital to ensuring a thriving future for the historic institution in the decades to come.

“The irony is not lost on us,” said current Judson Minister Donna Schaper. “To think that some of our treasures from the past are going towards the toilets demonstrates the critical needs we now face. The current condition of our public space challenges our ability to continue to present significant and provocative work, and to further our crucial social outreach.”

The Yes We Can benefit tales place Friday November 6, 2009 from 6pm – 8.30pm. Tickets to the event are $20, and can be purchased online at the Judson website at www.judson.org <http://www.judson.org or in cash at the door on the evening of the event. When bidding, checks are encouraged, but credit cards can be accommodated.

Read more »

arts and technology and influence and policy

Here’s the thing I keep struggling with – this disconnect between the technological and the sociological. It seems like kind of  chicken/egg thing. We know that technology can change the way we behave and frequently we try to invent technology to do just that. BUT is technology always the answer? Especially when it comes to arts, making art, attending art and building audience?

I’m not saying yes or now, I’m just posing the question: when we talk about arts participation can we actually use technology to lower the barriers to engagement or are there fundamental sociological issues that must be confronted?

I keep wrestling with this – and with the notion of how in the arts policy makers seem to be at a pretty far remove from the people on the ground. I wonder what the impact of that is? It seems like the further away you get from the art (and artists) the closer you get to the resources and influence. But how effectively do messages travel up and down the ladder? So many individual artists have no idea about the conversations that are being had by policy makers. And it seems like policy makers are often removed from the actual situations of arts makers.

Hm.

Discuss.

winners of NAJP summit announced

The USC Annenberg School for Communication & Journalism and the National Arts Journalism Program are pleased to announce the results of voting for projects entered in the National Summit on Arts Journalism, held October 2 at the Annenberg School Auditorium on the University of Southern California campus in Los Angeles.

 

First Prize of $7,500 goes to Glasstire (www.glasstire.com) of Texas. Second Prize of $5,000 goes to FLYP Media (http://www.flypmedia.com/) of New York City. Third Prize of $2,500 goes to San Francisco Classical Voice (www.sfcv.org) . Additionally, all three projects, along with finalists Departures (a project of KCET in Los Angeles http://kcet.org/explore-ca/departures/) and Flavorpill (www.flavorpill.com ), previously were awarded $2,000 each for being chosen finalists for the National Arts Journalism Summit.

 

Voters are members of the National Arts Journalism Program and alumni of the National Endowment for the Arts’ Arts Journalism Institutes.

 

“Each of the projects presented at the Summit represents an aspect of the changing nature of arts journalism,” said Summit co-director Sasha Anawalt. “These are challenging times for journalism, but the creativity and level of commitment to reinventing the ways that the arts are covered is inspiring.”

 

“We began with the basic premise that good journalism will continue,” said Summit co-director Douglas McLennan. “Great work is being done in many places. Our hope here was to explore some of the issues facing journalism and highlight some of the creative ways in which people are trying to address them. I think that the range of projects and ideas testifies to this.”

 

Ten innovative models of the next generation of arts journalism were presented at the Summit. Five of the projects, chosen from among 109 submissions in response to an open call earlier this summer competed for a total of $15,000 in prize money, courtesy of The William and Flora Hewlett Foundation. The five other “demonstration” projects were not included in the competition; they offered ideas both from inside and outside arts journalism that touch on finding new models to support arts journalism.

 

Primarily a virtual event, the Summit was streamed live from Annenberg Auditorium in front of a live audience, and thousands of viewers from around the world watched and participated via text chat and Twitter. All ten presentations are archived and available on the Summit website:www.najp.org/summit. Videos from the Summit have been viewed more than 10,000 times so far.

Five Questions for James Hannaham

james_hannahamName: James Hannaham
Title/Occupation: Writer/professor
Organization/Company: Pratt Institute/McSweeney’s Books
URL: http://www.jameshannaham.com

1. Where did you grow up and how did you end up where you are now?

I grew up in Yonkers, New York. To get to Fort Greene, Brooklyn, I took the BxM4C bus from the stop at Tuckahoe Road and Rockne Road down to 5th Avenue and 23rd Street, where I walked over to Park Avenue South and took the 6 Train to 14th Street, transferred for the 4/5 (being careful to make sure the 5 wasn’t stopping at Bowling Green—I hate waiting twice). I got out at Nevins Street because it’s less difficult to negotiate than Atlantic/Pacific, crossed underneath to the exit on the east side of Flatbush Avenue to avoid traffic, walked up Fulton to Lafayette, and I was here. This actually says a lot more about me than it might first appear.

2. Which performance, song, play, movie, painting or other work of art had the biggest influence on you and why?

I liked the one from Belgium a lot. Huh? Do you really expect people to choose just one? Okay, random selection here, Quotations from a Ruined City by the late Reza Abdoh’s company Dar A Luz. An unbelievable, fantastic, dark, funny and outrageous piece of performance/theater. Not sure it has had any influence on my work whatsoever, but it blew my mind.

3. What skill, talent or attribute do you most wish you had and why?

I wish I could teleport at will. Saves a lot on airfare and you get to travel extensively and still be home for dinner. In the realm of possibility, though, I wish I had a short-term memory, like, at all.

4. What do you do to make a living? Describe a normal day.

7:30am-Awakened by BF making smoothie in blender. Return to sleep. 8:30am-Struggle awake. 9:30am-Strong coffee, email, NPR in background. 10:30am-Gym. Noon-Class prep. 2-3:50pm-Class. 4-7pm-Writing. 7-9:30pm-Reading for class/pleasure, or dinner/drinks w/ friends or play or opening or something. 9:30ish-Herbed fish and quinoa dinner w/ BF. 10:30-Midnight-More reading or Net surfing or emailing or what have you. Pretty dull, eh?

5. Have you ever had to make a choice between work and art? What did you choose, why, and what was the outcome?

Let me tell you why I hate this question. Because it assumes that there is a difference between “work” and “art.” When I say “work,” as in “I’m going to do some work,” I usually mean writing. The line is very blurry for me because I have been writing non-fiction for a long time, and the ability to make a living at non-fiction is a kind of wizardry that makes you seem like an artist even if you aren’t. Having begun, with the publication of my first novel, God Says No, a venture into the artistic life, there hasn’t been a tremendous change, except that I get a bit more autonomy. I guess I’m always making a choice between work and art by avoiding getting a “real” job. Not that at this point I could get one. I mean, I graduated from college in 1990 and never had a full-time job until 2008, and that was writing reviews at Salon.com. In the business world they’d mistake me for an extraterrestrial life form.

county of kings

Just got back from Lemon Andersen’s COUNTY OF KINGS at The Public. I was prepared to not like it, thinking it was just another solo show about identity politics and hip-hop but I was delighted to discover it was a moving, thoughtful, expertly written and performed show. Plot-wise it was somewhat familiar territory as Andersen makes his way from being the child of a drug-addicted HIV-positive mother to being a crack dealer and convicted failing to discovering his voice as a hip-hop artist. But his commanding rhymes and his stage presence make the show not only feel new but authoritative. He’s a gifted storyteller and he brings you into his world in a complicated, compassionate way.

I have to say that as much as I complain about the over-familiarity of the “hip-hop identity politics solo show” when I really reflect on it, I haven’t seen very many of them in the recent past. And Lemon’s show isn’t about identity politics, it is just a compelling personal story. I found it refreshing and exciting. I was also glad to be hearing a voice from a different background and class than so much of what is normally onstage. It really reinforced how rare it can be and how jaded so many of us theatergoers are that we can often dismiss an entire genre of work without acknowledging the complexity and variation within that genre, not to mention the necessity of bringing new voices to the stage.

The show is only playing until 11/8 so if you get a chance, go check it out. Here’s a link to FB and $25 tickets:

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=157334540422

the internet goes really global

this is amazing:

By the middle of next year, Internet surfers will be allowed to use Web addresses written completely in Chinese, Arabic, Korean and other languages using non-Latin alphabets, the organization overseeing Internet domain names announced Friday in a decision that could make the Web more accessible.

read the rest @NYTIMES.

no surprises

last saturday i went to see Jack Ferver in the afternoon and LIZ ONE at Chocolate Factory in the evening. In between, after a chat over tea with friends, I made my way over LIC and spent a bit of time at Dominie’s Hoek. As it rained outside and proceeded to get darker I sat in the pub with a pint and a book, warm and sinking into warmness. It reminded me of years ago, winter late afternoons spent in Seattle’s Comet Tavern, drinking and smoking and writing poetry. Ah youth. I suppose in this day and age, in this city, it is not terribly fashionable to opine over the simple comforts of a warm pub, a cold pint and a rainy afternoon, the beautiful melancholy pleasure of slightly dulled senses during the half dream of winter and warmth and wet. But anyway – it made me feel like this:

which is slightly different than when covered by Kiki and Herb. Since I couldn’t find that, I offer this one: