Leigha Horton :: Greenroom
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I decided to start my fringe off on a strong note (pun absolutely intended) by attending The Mistress Cycle, a musical offering at the Bryant Lake Bowl, after seeing a snippet of it at the second Fringe-for-All showcase. That girl could SING.

To add to my high hopes and overall Fringe delight, I ran into my two favorite Johns (NO! Mind out of the gutter! Now!), John Trones and John Mikkelsen, and was able to “interview” them in line:

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Much to my chagrin, I wasn’t the only one with the identical plan of seeing a promising show first thing, and I hadn’t made reservations. Therefore, I, and 30 of my closest line-standers were turned away after the venue reached capacity. Except the Johns. They got in. Lucky bastards. Stupidly, I neglected to bring my schedule, and decided to walk back home:

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I was planning to spend the next 15 blocks wallowing in my dejection, but instead made a sweet little discovery at Bryant Square:

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So, tonight was a bust for Fringeing, but a win nonetheless for Minneapolis.

And, my promise to you for future audio ventures: I’ll try to do better with the microphone – tonight provided some pretty obnoxious audio, and even worse external monologue. But, I guess that’s what the Fringe is for – experimentation. I can’t always sound like I’m going to sell the hell out of a computer.

(Did you follow that last link? See what I did there? – it’s called “redemption.” Shut up. It’s my blog.)

Grab your Vitamin Water and Cliff Bars and tough up your butt bones – the Fringe Festival is nigh! The 11 glorious, sweaty days of performance presented in 60-minute nibblets starts *gasp* tomorrow! It’s like band-camp for theater geeks. Except it’s inclusive…all the way down to those who harbor only a little geekitude way down deep inside. And if you find yourself making-out with one of said theater geeks, the plus side is that you’re unlikely to get your lip snagged on any headgear. Everybody wins!

I am, sadly, not performing this year (damn you, evil democratic lottery) – but will still be screaming “watch me!” in print, right on this here blog. It’s true! In keeping with the theme of The Greenroom as it stands, yet emerging from my narcissism-disguised-as-shoptalk, I will spend the next ten days seeing a wheelbarrow’s worth of shows and writing about everything in between the successes and failures of productions. I am not a reviewer, nor do I plan to act like one for the next ten days. My goal is to set judgment aside, observe, engage, and then publish it for all the world to see.

In all seriousness, I’m going to do everything in my power to unearth the driving force behind the audiences and actors and techies and volunteers who participate in this controlled chaos. I want to ask, and try to answer, larger questions about the role this festival plays in the Twin Cities and the U.S. as a whole. Mostly, I want to offer insight to folks who might attend the Ordway, but fear the dirty, unwashed, small-theater masses. Because we may be dirty, and we may be unwashed; but no sir, we are not small.

Let the wild rumpus begin!

I don’t watch TV. This is not a higher-than-thou artiste assertion; actually quite the opposite. I have deep-seeded slovenly tendencies and the pretty shiny light box nurtures my inner mouthbreather; it’s better to just avoid TV all together. I DO, however, have a TV. To which a DVD player is connected. In which I play movies and quality, commercial-free, scripted television shows recommended by people I trust. If I’m going to drool and stop blinking for thirty minutes at a stretch, it better be for something really, really good.

Which brings me to the following public love-letter to the creators/writers of Slings & Arrows, a bitingly accurate and stunningly hilarious Canadian television show following a loose-cannon director, the gritty rehearsal process, and the bureaucratic hell of arts administration. It is brilliance. Having worked for fifteen years as a performer, five years in arts administration, and a year in a granting organization, this show slays every single aspect…from the fights with Development over corporate sponsor logo placement to the angst of the performing apprentices in the wake of some diva’s breakdown. And yes, in case anyone was wondering, it appears that being a stage manager really is as thankless as it looks – those people should be sainted.

Written by Mark McKinney of The Kids in the Hall, playwright Susan Coyne (who coincidentally plays here one of the best understated comedic roles of all time), and a comedian named Bob Martin, it served as a perfect peek backstage for my non-theater-person mate…finally something that accurately demonstrates what I experience during rehearsals; because really, there are no words that do rehearsals justice. Granted, there are plenty of over-the-top ridiculous elements in the script, but for the most part this is spot-on honest in its portrayal of life backstage. Paul Gross nails the role of the director – an incredibly nuanced performance that had me awed into silence and energized simultaneously. THIS is really, really good television.

And here, compliments of the series of tubes known as internets, are the first ten minutes.  Enjoy.

Interweb search for “Playwrights’ Center” + PlayLabs + Slasher yielded this little treat…turns out that sneaky-pants Playwrights’ Center has a blog about this year’s series.

And here I thought the interns and observers of our rehearsals were a benign and kindly sort. Boy, was I wrong – they’re in there digging up conspiracies.  Can’t I have anything nice in this house?

Although kudos where kudos are due to capturing the Last Supperishness of our first read.

I’ve been in rehearsals all week workshopping a script for the Playwrights’ Center’s PlayLabs series, and tonight is our first (of two) public staged readings of Slasher, by Allison Moore.  The script is a hilarious take on the making of a low-budget horror flick (fortunately, my ACTUAL experience making a low-budget horror flick was far less bloody and psycho-mother-ridden, but that doesn’t give me much to draw from, now, does it?).

I’m playing seven roles, which amount to a Christian fundamentalist with an agenda, four scantily clad girls/meat who are scripted to meet horrific ends, a news reporter, and a car hop.   No one else is doubled up, much less septupled up, so this is great fun despite its schizophrenia.  I have to admit, though, when it comes to wooing prospective directors, I’m not sure if the multiplicity fits very well in the plus column.  It’s the old “many roles shallow” or “one role deep” conundrum.  Alas.

Regardless of my personal neuroses, if you’re up for 90 minutes of great writing and some excellent performances to boot, come take a look-see:

The Playwrights’ Center’s PlayLabs: Slasher
2301 East Franklin Avenue, Minneapolis, MN 55406
Tickets: 612/332-7481 x16
Thursday, July 17 – 5 pm
Saturday, July 19 – 8 pm
$10

Written by Allison Moore, directed by Josh Hecht, dramaturgy by Liz Engleman.
Cast: Annelise Christ, Angie Haigh, Peter Hansen, Leigha Horton, Ashley Montondo, Sherwin Reurrecion.

Last month I recorded a couple of radio spots for Target. Yes, that Target.

I had to keep mum on sharing the audio files due to proprietary-product-launching-somethingorother-yadda-yadda-yadda, BUT – here, finally, they are:

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Target – “HP Pavillion Notebooks”
Recorded and Produced by Babble-On
Market: Our entire Estados Unidos – Baby’s first truly nation-wide spot.
Line: All of them. I am Narrator; hear me roar!

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Target – “Toshiba Laptops”
Recorded and Produced by Babble-On
Market: U.S.A.! U.S.A.!
Line: Same as the HP Pavillion Notebooks spot. Rawr!

Ta-DAAA!