Leigha Horton :: Green room
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Taxes. Bleh. I’m not going to wax poetic about the royal pain in the hoo-ha that is filing taxes every year – especially actor taxes that come in the form of a slew of W-2s and 1099s, a kajillion itemized deductions, and a bevy of industry-specific tax questions that tend to escape the expertise of the average tax preparer. Instead, I plan to arm you with the best resources I have:

ONE – Fox Tax. These fellows know their business. They know artists. They specialize in artists. They’re affordable to artists.

TWO – Actor’s Tax Tips. Free! A brand spankin’-new blog by local actor and tax whiz and all-around responsible and intelligent guy, Mark Bradley.

THREE – The Actor’s Tax Guide. Not free! But totally worth it! Chock-full of industry-specific tax info for you, handy-dandy worksheets, organizational advice, AND tax-deductible! By the aforementioned Mark Bradley. And he’s local, so if he steers you wrong, you “know where to find him.”

FOUR – Backstage.com’s Actors’ Assets. I just found these articles today when looking up what it means to be a “Qualified Performing Artist.” They’re well written and quite informative. I must say, though, $16,000 cap on your adjusted gross income?! What a joke. Too bad “Qualified Performing Artist” and “Successful Performing Artist” seem to be mutually exclusive.

If you, too, have a little bundle of actor tax preparation secrets up your sleeve, by all means, do share. Misery does love its company, does it not?

Oh dearest 2009, how I neglected to give you a proper adieu. But because I always need to have the last word, your shenanigans shall not go untouted nor unscathed. This here is my farewell parting shot:

The past year brought a load of work, a load of appreciation for the work I was getting, and one giant, lazy attitude toward writing about it.  Of particular note, midway through 2009 I was able to make a return to performing for a living.  “What?  What do you mean?    Actresses in the Twin Cities aren’t filthy stinking rich and famous?!”  Surprisingly, no, not so much.  See, periodically a girl like me is obliged to suck it up and take a part-time “day job” to keep some steady cash rolling in while filling in the rest with voice-overs and stage work.  What is this world coming to?

What happened was this: in June I was cast as Nurse and First-Class Stewardess Evelyn Marsden in Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition at the Science Museum of Minnesota, as well as joined the museum’s Science Live Theater cast. When at the museum, but not in 1912 costume, I bust out my mad knowledge of nanoscience to thwart an Evil Scientist From The Future, as well as demonstrate the important properties of surface area by blowing giant fireballs and discussing chemical reactivity.  It has been a joy to perform regularly for the (what by now must be) thousands of audience members taking an interest in science.  Additionally, I am responsible for coordinating and moderating public forums for adults about nanoscale science on behalf of NISE Net (Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network).  Moreover, it’s less than part-time, and voice-overs and stage work really ARE filling in the rest.  Even in this wretchedly hobbled economy.  My stars are indeed lucky.  And I thank them regularly.

So here, for posterity, are my performance highlights of 2009:

January
Marketplace Events spots – Ty Pennington (that dude from Extreme Makeover: Home Edition) and me on TV and radio urging you to attend particular home shows here and there in the U.S.  TV commercials aired on HGTV and ABC and their affiliates.  Read more about my sister’s hilarious request.

February
Nothing of note – sometimes that’s a good thing.  Looks like I was in rehearsal.  Not always a good thing.

March

• Performances of Adam Szymcowicz’s The Captivity Plays at the Bryant Lake Bowl
• After 18 months of pain in the form of oral torture, treatment was completed and my braces were removed.  I was rewarded with awesomely perfect teeth and new-found confidence.  Join me in reliving my happy dance.
• Supervalu spots – radio spots for grocery stores around the U.S. – Albertson’s, Lucky, Supervalu, Shaw’s/Star Market, Cub Foods, Jewel-Osco, Kroger, Hornbacher’s, etc.

April
Nexxus spots – I don’t believe these were ever aired – just voice-overs for a concept by the ad agency for the client.  If it was approved by the client, the agency would then film the spots.  Since I almost never watch commercial TV, I have no idea if these ever made it though the pipeline…my guess is no.

May

• Played Nerve 123080 in full-length feature film, The System, with Voices Media, Inc. – the same folks who brought you the award-winning web-series Chasing Windmills.  Devilish early morning feats trumpeted here.
• Joined Twin Cities AFTRA Board.

June

• Caroline or Change, The Homosexuals’ Guide to the Universe, Tiny Kushner – now these didn’t involve me at all, save for my presence in the audience.  But I found the first two to be incredibly moving, incredibly powerful pieces of work.  And I was thrilled that Minneapolis was able to honor such a fantastic playwright in this way, and that such a fantastic playwright got to workshop a brand-new play in our fine city.
• Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition opens at the Science Museum of Minnesota.  This is my new “day job” wherein I get to spend part of my weekdays engaging with the general public and informing them about Miss Evelyn Marsden’s life and the hospitals aboard the ship in a darling English accent. Personal ship preparation stories here.
• United Health Care spots – my first political spots, something about calling your congresspeople somewhere in New England. Connecticut maybe? Urging you to take a particular stand on some kind of health care legislation.  Don’t remember the particulars, but got to work with the guys at Shout.  And I absolutely adore Mark Benninghofen, so it was a joy.

July
Joined the Science Museum of Minnesota to work on NISE Net (Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network) projects – both performing live stage plays and demonstrations that deal directly with nanoscale science, as well as coordinating and facilitating adult public forums about nanoscale science.  This is only 10 hours per week, and I love it.  And it makes me feel a little closer to my scientific heroes of audio over at RadioLab.  And to paraphrase the words of my delightfully brilliant colleague Michael Ritchie: I realize that my day job can never be bad, because I work in a place with musical stairs.

August

• Fringe Festival fail – this was hard.  This was very, very hard.  The Ministry of Cultural Warfare, the company I have both figuratively and literally sweat and bled for since 2000, planned to do a show.  Due to a Perfect Storm of really crappy circumstances, I had to remove myself from the process, and we ultimately had to back out of the festival at a late date.  It was heartbreaking, and the fallout was equally heartbreaking.
• Marketplace Events radio and TV spots – the plus side of August was that Ty Pennington had some more home shows to promote, so it was back into the studio to add my special female aural sparkle.
• The Minnesota State Fair – I spent an afternoon as host of the Labor Pavilion at “The Great Minnesota Get-Together.”  They gave me a wireless mic, put me in a Green building and the adjacent pavilion, and let me loose amongst the various Labor kiosks and the throngs of fair-goers.  There was trivia, there were hand-crafted on-the-spot copper roses, there were nurses and flight attendants and machinists and steel workers and everything in between.  At the end of my shift, they snapped a photo which made its way into the national AFTRA magazine.

September
I spent nearly half the month on the road, traveling to Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco – this was for my work with the Science Museum of Minnesota on behalf of the Nanoscale Informal Science Education Network (NISE Net), and it was incredibly inspiring.  It did indeed involve some performing, but it also involved meeting with social scientists to consider the social, political, and ethical implications of nanoscale science, and how to get audiences considering these aspects, as well.  We also met for the purpose of setting goals for years 6-10 of NISE Net’s grant funded by the National Science Foundation, and it involved learning how other organizations engage audiences in learning about nanoscale science.  Inspiring, and the locations were fantastic.  I love the Pacific Northwest.

October
Lead role of Hannah in Table Salt Productions’ inaugural show, Burned at the Gremlin Theatre.  Nothing like spending an hour before each performance putting glue on my face, letting it dry and manipulating it and coloring it to make it look like nasty scar tissue.  While it was a serio-comic post-apocalyptic tale, it was a joy to make a foray back into dramatic work.  Read a little more about it.

November

• Workshop and public reading of Dog and Wolf – an incredibly well-crafted, powerful,  and riveting play about a Bosnian refugee by Catherine Filloux, in which I played the lead, Jasmina.  This play is being produced Off-Broadway this February.
• My first public nanoscience forum about privacy, civil liberties, and nanotechnology.  It was a small group of about 15 people, but helped me get my feet wet.  Now that I’ve done something in the accepted mold, I can hack it and make it more interesting, accessible, and engaging.  Watchout Twin Cities – you’re about to get schooled in nano.

December

• more Marketplace Events spots – this time for home shows around the U.S. in 2010.
• Caribou Coffee spots – The tone and delivery in these spots makes me feel like we’re sitting on a front porch swing, lazing the day away.  And they’re all about handcrafted oatmeal.  And I got to spend some good time with my friends over at Babble-On Recording studios.  I love those engineers.
• General Mills spots for Tuesday Taco Night - you know you’ve made it when your VOs keep getting interrupted by a mariachi band.  Plus more time at Babble-On!  Whee!

Plenty to share for January already – but it’s a new year, so it gets a new post.  Here’s looking forward to a peaceful, prosperous 2010.  And I’ll actually work on getting all of these 2009 (and future) voice-over spots posted for your listening pleasure.  It’s not as hard as I make it sound, and yet here we are.  Soon, I promise.

Yes, yes, I am indeed alive.  Barely.  Just got back from a 12-day whirlwind tour of the Pacific Northwest chock full of performances and meetings and nanotechnology conferences and sea water and dear friends from my past.  More on all of that to come.  Soon.  I promise.

In the interim, I give you my general Titanic schedule until Thanksgiving:

Sundays through Thursdays, 9 am to 12 noon.

But if you’re hellbent on seeing me, rather than one of our other incredible performers (Melanie and I are up to about 150 hours of research these days), be sure to contact me first – we Titanactors are highly adept at schedule-juggling, and tend to swap hours with astounding regularity.  Regardless of who is present for your experience, it will be, as our dear Junior Marconi Operator Harold McBride says, “another day, another doomed ship.”

Last month Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition officially launched at the Science Museum of Minnesota, for which I am portraying Miss Evelyn Marsden, First Class Stewardess and Nurse for the First Class passengers.

Our preparation included regular improv rehearsals (it’s not as much of an oxymoron as it sounds) in addition to an obscene amount of hours researching on our own.  We were expected to spend at least 20 hours with our noses in books; and I’m nearly certain I, and everyone else on the crew, have easily topped 80 hours.  Piles of books, a 10-inch stack of homemade flashcards, online “Titaniac” forums, constant fretting over discrepancies between sources…the list goes on.

80 hours of mind-numbing minutiae and yet I still catch myself periodically weeping as I read or write about the events that unfolded in the middle of the North Atlantic the night of April 14th, 1912.  There is always some new discovery or some particularly moving imagery that strikes me, re-humanizing that night, re-humanizing the roughly 700 people who survived, and the more than 1,500 who did not.  They are not numbers, they are not historical factoids, they are people – each and every one of them – many of whom were the sole bread-winners for their families – concentric circles moving outward from a drop in the water.  An amalgamation of beautiful devastation.

If you’re interested in seeing the exhibition, we highly recommend reservations via phone or online.  Starting July 23, my schedule will generally be:
Mondays: 3-8 p
Tuesdays: 8-11a
Wednesdays: 8-11a
Thursdays: 1-5p
…but is subject to change, so if you’re dying to see me in particular, give me a holler first.  I can assure you, however, that you’ll have a great experience, whichever actors are in the room.

A star is born!  Today is the very first day of MinnesotaPlaylist, a fantastic web venture by former Minnesota Fringe Festival Executive Director Leah Cooper, playwright Alan Berks, and playwright/web/design guru (and fellow Ministry of Cultural Warfare-ite) Matthew Foster.  It’s a gorgeous presence that pulls together written and photographic essays, casting calls, theatrical classified ads, talent profiles, discussion, criticism, and a performance calendar.  All created and edited and managed by people I deeply respect, admire, and just plain enjoy as friends.  It is, to put it simply, freaking awesome; and I love it.  Let’s feed it so it grows up big and strong.

As may be apparent from my silence since the last post over 20 days ago, I’ve recently fallen into an artistic Dark Age – sure, as the analogy demands, I have been doing things…they just haven’t been documented.  My artistic progress as of late has been at the mercy of our generation’s Economic Armageddon, the struggle to find and land work, and the upcoming (and terrifying, I might add) Presidential election (seriously – the opposition’s VP candidate/huntress-of-the-north somehow miraculously makes George W. Bush sound like an informed, oratory genius.  Whaaaa?).  But the launch of MinnesotaPlaylist was just the glimmer of light I needed.  The first issue of their magazine asked of essayists (one is Miss Mo Perry, the best button in all the land) “what is the function of the performing arts?”

Good question.  A question that I feel compelled to (at least partially) address. Especially when arts funding is most certainly bound to vaporize in attempt to keep other necessities afloat.

Just last week I ran into a local filmmaker at my favorite coffee shop, and while we were catching up he lamented about the same Dark Age feeling.  I remarked that artists are the cockroaches of society – we survive through it all.  I had intended it to be funny.  And yet many a truth is said in jest – due to the great undervaluing of the arts as a whole, a majority of us live in poverty or near-poverty to begin with, so when crisis hits there’s not much for us to lose.  We’re accustomed to living frugally.  And frankly, our art often seems more poignant in the face of adversity – economic, political, social, environmental – performing arts give voice to the voiceless.  It questions.  It provokes.  And on the other side of every major low point in history is artistic documentation by way of commentary and entertainment.  In our most recent history the intense popularity of the cinema during the Great Depression comes to mind.

And don’t get me started on all the proven benefits of the arts in communities – the tangible, dramatic affect on quality of life and social justice and economic vitality.  The Minnesota State Arts Board can enlighten you with all the stats you’d ever want to know on the matter.

To me, personally, the performing arts are an integral part of the world as we know it.  A body isn’t much use without a brain.  And a brain is certainly of no use without a body.  As such – the performing arts, the brain – are certainly of no use without the world to give them a home.  I believe it follows that the world is not much use without the performing arts to contextualize it.  To offer a beautiful escape, a cunning design, a scathing evaluation.  This mystifying world makes sense through the filter of art.  This mundane world becomes mystical through the filter of art.

Indeed, we may be poor, but our riches are endless.

In passing, the director at an audition last weekend said to me, “I saw your show the other night – it was fantastic!” I was bewildered – and frantically paged through my mental catalog of recent performances. Because I’m in the process of moving, I had specifically turned down shows so that I would be uninhibited during these few weeks. It never occurred to me that he could be mistaking me for someone else; I was convinced he saw me in something that I’ve since forgotten. I managed an audible, yet perplexed, “my show?”

Turns out he was referring to Everywhere Signs Fall, in which I appear for a brief monologue on video. Frankly, the top floor of mission control is so fried right now, I had forgotten I was “in” it. I’ll be seeing it Saturday night, perhaps that’ll make it on to me olde hard drive.

Anyway, I’m thrilled that the audition-director liked it, and I’ve read great reviews. I’m not surprised, though – it’s got some stage goliaths, directed by my favorite director-friend (who happens to share my name), and written by a playwright whose work I deeply admire. I’m also thrilled to announce that they’re offering two-for-one tickets to tonight’s performance – so, go see!:

Photo by Travis Anderson

A thrilling psychological rollercoaster ride
through mystery, tragedy and romance
in a steamy motel room in hot, seedy Phoenix, Arizona

Graydon Royce of the Star Tribune calls it “a fearless endeavor” and “taut and aggressively acted” full of “gripping performances” and “cracking dialogue.” “An ambitiously smart play!”

Quinton Skinner of City Pages agrees. Through it all is “a genuine beating heart, and a labyrinthine story that unties its knots by the end with a satisfying, deadly conclusion.”

Now playing through May 11
Thursday-Saturday at 7:30 p.m. / Sundays at 4:30 p.m.
Pay what you can Monday, April 28 at 7:30 p.m.

Tickets $18
$15 seniors and Fringe button holders
Under 30? Pay half your age any night!

For tickets, call
(651) 228-7008

Loading Dock Theatre
509 Sibley St., Saint Paul

Presented by Gremlin Theatre
Starring Paul Cram, Tracey Maloney* and John Middleton
Written by Alan Berks
Directed by Leah Cooper
Technical direction and design by Carl Schoenborn
Sound design by Mike Hallenbeck
Video by Kevin Obsatz
Costumes by Annie Cady
Props and construction by Carn Schoenborn and Pete Hansen
Fight Choreography by Mary Karcz
Stage Management by Rose Johnson
Sound board operated by Katie Burger
Cameo video appearances by Muriel Bonertz, Leigha Horton, Jon Mikkelson, Dana Munson, Rik Reppe, and Eric Sharp

*Tracey Maloney appears courtesy Actors’ Equity Association

I have somehow gotten myself onto the mailing list for the Guthrie’s press releases. And it’s been really quite fascinating…I enjoy getting notice of the upcoming seasons, masterclasses/lectures and whatnot. But it’s also a bit spammish, in that it’s never provided me anything more than information about shows that I had desperately wanted to be in (*cough*Jane Eyre*cough*); until early this week. I was the lucky recipient of a complimentary ticket offer to check out Private Lives on the Guthrie’s proscenium stage. Score!

When I arrived at will-call to claim my tickets, they were accompanied by a press folder and card. I suddenly felt dishonest…like those tickets weren’t really meant for me unless I was intending to write publicly about the show. And I don’t want this blog to become a place where I review other shows, because then that makes me a critic and people will treat me differently – they’ll be interested in me not because they want to cast me in something, they’ll be interested in me because they hope that I’ll give their show some (good) exposure (lesson sadly learned firsthand from hosting the Minnesota Fringe Festival Podcast back in aught-five).

Alas, in the interest of easing my guilty conscience, I will give you my impression of the show Thursday night. Do with it what you will:

Overall, I thought the production was a good slice of pure entertainment. Total fluff, but mostly well-done fluff. The actress who played Amanda was fittingly cast and oozed divine languidity – and her comic timing was impeccable. Adversely, I was disappointed by the characterization of Cybil. I think that the actress in the role is exceptionally talented, but that she was poorly directed – it just didn’t appear that the director really knew what to do with the character. And granted, Cybil is supposed to be milquetoasty, but I think there’s a way to do that without resorting to a paper-thin caricature. On the production front, the second of two sets heavily outweighed the first in its “wow” factor – quite beautiful – and despite one of my best friends being a professional lighting designer for some fancy-schmancy outfits, I still don’t know how to critique lighting. On the whole, it looked just fine to me. All in all, I had many, many good, strong, sincere laughs and thoroughly enjoyed my evening there. Recommended.

Okay. All better.