Leigha Horton :: Greenroom
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I stumbled across a great article, Matched Sets: The Pen and the Voice, in last Sunday’s New York Times Arts & Leisure section – a tidbit, if you will:

A playwright’s best fortune is to share the profession with actors whose mouths seem shaped to fit his words. Jason Robards deftly personified the written worlds of Eugene O’Neill (even if the playwright didn’t live long enough to see any of the actor’s definitive performances). During the past two decades, Edward Albee’s exacting syntax has been very nicely voiced by Marian Seldes and Rosemary Harris. And recently, the moody, ruminative Ron Rifkin completed his latest stint as mouthpiece of choice for the moody, ruminative playwright Jon Robin Baitz, in “The Paris Letter.”

It then goes on to dissect the pairings of Neil Simon to Matthew Broderick; Terrence McNally to Nathan Lane; and Christopher Durang to Kristine Nielsen. The best part:

Mr. McNally has said he hears Mr. Lane’s voice when he writes and never has to tell the actor how to deliver a line. The playwright seems to employ Mr. Lane as his onstage id, instilling in the characters he writes for him his own passions…

After finishing the article, it made me realize that Foster’s (my MoCW cohort) and my relationship is more normal than I thought. I have often fretted about how well we work together – “This is really easy – does this mean that I am hereby pigeonholed into his words? Is he pigeonholed into my characterizations? Will I lose my ability to aptly voice Havel? Stoppard? Kushner? Shakespeare?” Will I ever hear another writer/director say “Yes! Do that, always.”

Apparently there is no need to fret, because the big kids do it all the time and walk away unscathed.

But like every person in a healthy relationship, I also recognize that outside inspiration is a must. I have every intention to actively pursue diversity in my resume – I will keep auditioning for outside projects and continue to “forge new alliances” (damn you, corporatespeak!) and all that, but it’s comforting to know that I have a theatrical home. One where the words start out as his and become ours…the words like our very own little babies – the funny kind of babies that come from gay men and bossy women. Sweet.

Almost two weeks ago I auditioned for a show at Theatre in the Round. This is a non-paying community theater, yet highly respected (so much so that some audiences don’t think you’ve “made it” as an actor in the Twin Cities until you’ve performed there – I will refrain from elaborating on how narrow-minded I think this is considering our vibrant arts community – but that mentality exists and I wanted to note it).

When I checked in for my audition, they handed me the paperwork I needed to complete along with a contact information card that they keep on file, presumably forever. On the back of this card was a very rude awakening: a list of the shows that I’ve auditioned for since the card was first filled out. In 1998. Even though I hate math, I did some anyway and realized that in the SEVEN YEARS I’ve been auditioning for Theatre in the Round, I have never been cast. Ouch.

Granted, I don’t think I’ve ever auditioned there in front of the same director. And I’ve been on the other side of the casting table plenty of times and know what the process is like, but still – seven years?! I get paid stage gigs now with some regularity. I get paid film gigs and voice gigs and any number of other uncategorized gigs – hell, I even get pre-cast! But I can’t land a role at Theatre in the Round? What am I doing wrong?

So, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now – I didn’t get cast for this latest show. The director did, however, send me a very kind e-mail commending me for a strong cold-read and for making him laugh. He also shared that I was his second choice for a specific role. I didn’t really know how to respond to that… um, “hope your first choice drops out?” But then I remembered that if it sounds like a bad idea, it probably is one. I thanked him politely and gave myself a little, mental, pat on the back for pretending to be an adult.

So, I have a few options for my next goal (in terms of Theatre in the Round):

1) Continue this adult trend and keep auditioning like a good sport (boring but respectable/humiliating – it depends on when you ask me);
2) Keep auditioning until I get cast once, consider it a coup, and then never audition there again;
3) Do everything I can to make it BIG, and then continue to audition there and make not-getting-cast into a sport.

Option #1 it probably is – ‘cause I’m an adult. Sigh.

The fifth and final *sniff, sniff* Fringe Podcast is now available for download at either the Minnesota Fringe Festival website or at iTunes. It’s far less commercial-y than the last four – just me interviewing Leah Cooper about the final attendance numbers, the percentage increase over last year, the reason Fringe is such a success, and why the Fringe is such an asset to the arts community and the Twin Cities community at-large, among other questions. There are also tidbits here and there from interviews with staff, volunteers, performers, and audience members taken at Fringeville by my rockstar podcast co-hort, Rik Reppe.

If you’re not going to take a listen – for shame! (except you, Minnesota parents, California-now-Oregon parents, and Grandma – I’ll make a CD for you), just know that these numbers impress me the most:

# page views on the Minnesota Fringe Festival website: 1.1 million
Average number of page views per visit: 12
Number of tickets sold: 44,630
Number of artists involved: 1,053
Number of volunteers: 377
Number of venues: 29
Number of sold-out performances: 67

The 12th Annual Minnesota Fringe Festival is over. So sad – it’s like summer camp has come to an end and we have to say goodbye to all of our new best friends and go back to school. There are many dear people that I only see once a year now, and it’s the Fringe that brings us together every time – we always know that we can pick up where we left off with no regrets or resentment over lost time…kind of like chosen family, really.

It was also a blast to hang out again with some of the wonderful people I met in Montreal when I performed in their 2004 Fringe – Foster, Cooper, and I bugged them enough to get them down to the states this year, and it was a joy to have them here with their excellent, excellent shows. At the closing party, Geoff (the Montreal Fringe Managing Director) hollered “Tag!, you’re it!” So, I guess it’s my turn to go back to Montreal in June. Oh, okaaaaay.

The Scrimshaw Show appearance went off without a hitch – and luckily there were enough other guests that night to keep me from being singled out for harassment. The brothers had their high-school creative writing teachers on as guests – snarky old men with tall, empty to-go cups of coffee (they reminded me of my favorite director and teacher from college, George Poletes, whom I was convinced was older than dust because he directed my father in shows at the University of St. Thomas circa 1962). Anyway, the evening’s guests were the aforementioned fellows along with former Look Ma, No Pants cast members Tim Uren and Dan Hetzel, in addition to myself. We all saddled up to bar stools on stage, were offered drinks, and then answered audience questions…one of which was about my “favorite farm animal” – um, what? – I gracefully handed that one off to the brilliantly funny Mr. Hetzel.

Favorite Experience at this Year’s Fringe:
Picture this: Closing night party, roughly 400 people, Leah Cooper onstage at Fringeville (the Suburban World Theater) announcing all of the staff members and having them come up on stage for a little recognition. Amy Lewis, Andrew Cleveland and I were brought up to be recognized for our work as the Out-of-Town Artist Coordinators and we were met, like everyone else, with polite applause. We stood there amongst the others as more and more staff were introduced. Then the moment: Cooper brought up stats about the podcast and then went on to introduce The Voice of the Fringe with an elaborate and highly complimentary preface including the words “The. Sexiest. Voice.” – when she finally announced my name, the audience erupted in applause and hoots and cheers. It was so thrilling I could hardly contain my joy and shock (and embarrassment at the joy and shock). It’s funny how sometimes goofy grins give away the secret that humility has lost the battle of the moment.

So the podcast stats? It turns out that the first four podcasts were downloaded from the Fringe website more than 2,000 times – that’s not even counting the ones downloaded from iTunes! And there’s one more being released today! And I was all freaked out about no-one listening (that entry was one I never posted here because I thought it sounded too needy). Way cool, way, way cool. I think this calls for an…you guessed it! – HORTON HAPPY DANCE!!!

Favorite line of the Fringe (courtesy Allegra Lingo, House Manager extraordinaire): a woman, with a small child in tow, was attempting to gain entry into a sold-out performance of “Nibblers: A Musical With Sharks” – a kid’s show, mind you – and became so angered by the sold-out status that she burst out, “Goddamn the arts! They pull you in and then they f*** you over!”

I hope somebody works that into a show next year.

Today is day ten of the Minnesota Fringe Festival (aka The Eleven Days Each Year When my Family Would Think I’m Dead if They Didn’t Know Any Better). Every year at this time I turn in to the unresponsive child, the bad friend, and the exhausted employee because I get so swept up in all things that constitute Fringe that I effectively tune out the rest of the world. Sometimes there’s a fine line between naïve and vacuous – if it weren’t for the NY Times delivery on the weekends, Google News during the week, and the occasional run-in with Matt Foster, I would be in a sorry state of clueless-ness that would far surpass what is deemed socially acceptable.

This is the first Fringe since 1999 that I haven’t been on stage, and while it seriously bums me out, it has also been an exciting new experience being on the Fringe staff as the Voice of the Fringe (podcasting). It’s also pretty cool waiting in line to see a show and getting asked by strangers about my or MoCW’s next stage plans without having to pimp “OUR LAST PERFORMANCE TOMORROW AT 8:30!!” It just feels like a far more mellow experience, and I dig mellow. I’ve seen shows ranging from the mediocre to the hilarious to the weep-inducing-stunner, and have accomplished this all without wearing a watch. Not wearing a watch during Fringe is a big deal. Especially for me.

Despite my stage absence, the lovely Josh and Joe have come to the rescue and asked me to be a guest on The Scrimshaw Show tonight…I guess my VotF gig is still enough presence to merit a guest appearance – totally unexpected and quite flattering. It will be a little strange going on stage with them as myself instead of a character, so I’m a tad nervous…but they’re good guys, and I’m a good sport, so I’m sure it will be fine.

I’ll report back with the sordid details.

Oh happy day! August is my absolute favorite time of year in Minnesota solely due to the 11 days of bohemian theatrical bliss known as the Minnesota Fringe Festival. Today is an especially sweet day because it not only marks the start of the 2005 Fringe Fest, it also is the day the St. Paul Pioneer Press (one of the two daily newspapers in our fair Twin Cities) came out with a Fringe preview that singles out and praises the Fringe Podcast.

Insert Horton Happy Dance here.

Take a read:

St. Paul Pioneer Press
Thursday, August 4, 2005

ATTACK OF THE POD PEOPLE

Can’t fit in any Fringe shows? Get a taste for the festival via your portable music player.

Fringe organizers recently recorded two of their traditional sneak-preview presentations in audio-file format and released them on their Web site as downloadable podcasts — radiolike shows that can be loaded on an iPod or other digital device and heard anywhere.

Podcasts number in the thousands, and many are achingly dull, but the Fringe’s podcasts are a cut above thanks in large part to their engaging host, actress Leigha Horton. Partly recorded before a live audience at two festival venues, they include performance excerpts along with artist interviews and newsy tidbits.

More podcasts are planned. One will be released just before the festival begins, said Leah Cooper, Fringe executive director and a podcast co-producer. A fourth during the festival will feature updates on how shows are selling along with “buzz and gossip,” she said. A fifth podcast will be released shortly after the festival ends.

Find the podcasts at www.fringefestival.org/podcasts.cfm. If you use Apple Computer’s iTunes software, search for “fringe” in the iTunes Music Store’s podcast directory to find and subscribe to the Fringe feed.

In a related effort, Thirst Theater miniplays once presented at a Minneapolis rooftop bar are now offered as podcasts. One is free, others are $4 apiece (a tough sell since virtually all podcasts are free). See www.fringefestival.org/thirst.cfm

So, take a listen. And then check back, because I will be updating again in the very near future with other odes to Fringe.