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.

A few weeks ago MPR’s monthly program, In the Loop, released a call for entries opining the topic of one’s relationship with work – they asked, “Do you live to work, or do you work to live?” My last greenroom entry, “The Faces In-Between,” was written in direct response to that call and an edited version was submitted for consideration. It ultimately didn’t make the cut for voicing and subsequent airing, but it did make the cut for a feature in their expanded text-version online.

I attended a live taping of the show in the UBS Forum at the MPR studios last Thursday night – a fascinating and enjoyable evening of live hosting, segue music, readings, “expert” panelists, and general audience discussion. I commented twice, and both comments were included in the final broadcasts (aired Friday and Sunday evenings last week – now available for download or streaming online) – apparently when I want my voice heard, I don’t take “no” for an answer.

Two posts in one day – can you believe it? I can’t either. But this is important:

August and January are, by far, the best months of the year for theater in the Twin Cities. So much so, they make me downright giddy. August, as you all know, marks the esteemed Minnesota Fringe Festival; and January, as you might not know, marks the Walker Art Center’s Out There series – four straight weekends of new multi-disciplinary works by national and international artists. This stuff is gritty and shiny and inspiring – it’s how I was introduced to the director and the playwright of the show I’m now in at The Children’s Theatre. And if that weren’t cool enough, there’s Inside Out There – a masterclass with that week’s artists every Saturday morning at 11 am – for a measly $6.

Seriously – $6 to meet and learn from some fantastic artists making fantastic work – this is Connection Central here, folks.

I don’t work for the Walker anymore, so I don’t have an ulterior motive – just a significant desire to see an incredible program reach as many Twin Cities artists as possible. So GO! And then tell me all about it (my rehearsals directly conflict with the classes this year). Call the Walker, right this very minute, 612.375.7600, x 4, and make your reservations. You can thank me later.

As I’ve been alluding for several weeks now, after five years of service to the Walker Art Center in the position of Performing Arts Assistant, I am (sadly, yet excitedly) departing to pursue my acting career full-time. That said, we have started the official search for my replacement, allowing ample time for new-hire training before my departure December 6^th.

Below is a brief job description. If you know someone who might be interested in the position, and/or who might be aware of potential candidates, please forward along this information. If you have any questions about the position, please feel free to contact Julie Voigt, Performing Arts Senior Program Officer, at 612.375.7625 or julie.voigt@walkerart.org.

Thanks for your help in spreading the word!

WALKER ART CENTER
Job Opening

JOB TITLE: Assistant

DEPARTMENT: Performing Arts

CLASSIFICATION: Full-time, exempt

REPORTS TO: Senior Curator

HOURS: 35 hours/week, M – F with additional hours as required

RESPONSIBILITIES Provide a full-range of assistance to the Performing Arts Senior Curator, along with added assistance to the department. Duties include acting as lead contact between Performing Arts department and other departments for the oversight and coordination of general office projects (IT systems implementations, office moves, etc.); serving as first point of contact for public and collegial inquiries; serving as liaison between Senior Curator and public for incoming and outgoing communications; assisting with, and often managing, grant applications, interim reports, and final reports; coordinating project details for artist site visits; coordinating national- and international-colleague site visits; arranging Senior Curator’s and artists’ complex travel itineraries; working with box office staff to maintain comp lists and attendance records for Performing Arts programs; managing Senior Curator’s calendar; drafting and executing departmental correspondence; and providing support in executing Senior Curator’s presenting responsibilities.

QUALIFICATIONS Arts administration or related arts degree with practical experience in an arts discipline and project management preferred. Two or more years of administrative support experience required, executive-level preferred. Must have excellent written and verbal communication skills with strengths in marketing and public relations, strong decision making capability, and organizational skills with attention to details. Essential to work effectively with a wide range of people (artists, administrators, funders, community partners, patrons) and have the ability to handle multiple projects simultaneously in a fast paced department. Knowledge and experience with the Microsoft Office Suite (PC), database systems, and Internet required. Knowledge of Photoshop, InDesign, and Quark a plus.

SALARY High $20’s to Low $30’s depending on qualifications; excellent benefits

APPLICATION DEADLINE Wednesday, October 25, 2006

For consideration, send letter of interest, resume, and names of three professional references to Human Resources, Walker Art Center, 1750 Hennepin Avenue, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55403.

Posted 10/06/2006 Job line: 612.375.7588 or www.walkerart.org/jobs/

Walker Art Center is an Affirmative Action/Equal Opportunity Employer

I spent last week fishing in the Superior National Forest, hiking, turning 28, and blowing stuff up. Those mere facts kept me from posting entries that I had written, but hadn’t had time to edit – so, from my screen to yours, the freshly edited archives:

JUNE 21, 2006:

I was approached last week to do a storytelling gig for a St. Paul Public Schools summer program. Did you catch that? – storytelling; not story-reading. As in making up a story for 45 minutes, no book, no script. As in all by myself in front of a gaggle of kids. I initially put forth strong protestations, but was convinced to reconsider by a few well-meaning friends. And money. Good money. So I agreed. And then the panic attacks set in.

Ever since that lapse of good judgment, I have been just shy of completely terrified. White-knuckled-nightmarish-poor-attitude-terrified.

Yes, I had several years of training and experience doing improv comedy over at the Brave New Workshop, but that was always aimed at adults…let me repeat that – adults. As in not children. As in swearing like a pirate. As in creating socially inappropriate characters in socially inappropriate situations and acting socially inappropriate until hilarity ensued or the lights were turned off. Not great experience to fall back on for an audience between the ages of 6 and 9.

I have spent the last two nights obsessing over what story to tell, and finally had a breakthrough involving a humpback whale, a green sea turtle, three dolphins, and two fishermen. I even did a load of research to back it all up – no made-up stuff for these kids – I’m hard core (well, okay, save for the anthropomorphization of five sea creatures, but whatever – these kids are gonna learn something).

So I should relax now that I have a story, right? NO. Now I’m terrified to tell it. Seriously. I have to stretch a three minute scenario into 30-45 minutes. hhhhhhelp.

JUNE 22, 2006

I once had a teacher tell me that my writing was like a frayed rope, and that I spent “way too much time on the frays, and not enough time on the rope.” I guess this was the one time that the frays were actually useful – I told a 35-minute story. Take that, rope.

I think it actually went well, but you never know with kids and teachers. Kids are never itching to give constructive feedback, and the teachers were so nice that I could have probably gotten naked and flailed and they wouldn’t have batted an eye.

The start of the story was, um, rather rocky, but once I got about five minutes in I finally hit my groove. There were a few moments when I got flustered because I had left out certain details at the beginning, and had to figure out a way to reincorporate them without breaking the flow too much, but all in all, it wasn’t half bad.

My favorite parts:

1) one little girl was trying to be a bad-ass and sat down right in front so she could give me hard looks. About halfway through the story I glanced down at her – she had her thumb plugged in her mouth, and was looking up at me with huge round brown eyes. I realized I had won her over, and I about melted.

2) a little boy in the very back of the group was intrigued by how physically animated I was while telling the story, and mimicked most of my huge arm gestures in the very back of the room – practicing them carefully so the other kids wouldn’t notice.

3) when I told about two fisherman discussing what they should do with the green sea turtle they accidentally caught, mentioning that they could get $5,000 for it if they brought it to their boss (thanks, Roald Dahl!), one little boy’s eyes got HUGE and he, in sheer wonder, slowly mouthed the words, “five thousand dollars!”

I’m still kicking myself for forgetting to record it so I could listen and learn how to make it better if there’s a “next time.” I would love to go back – those kids were absolutely precious.

Tomorrow night I will be at the Mixed Blood Theatre performing a reading of The Book of Shin, a new screenplay by Michael Maupin. Here’s a blurb from the official press release:

High schooler Jason Bock is planning another summer of sleeping in and avoiding his parents – that is, until he and his snail-collecting buddy Peter Schinner are drawn into inventing a new religion, which leads them to dangerous and unexpected consequences. So goes “The Book of Shin,” by Michael Maupin, a screen adaptation of Pete Hautman’s novel Godless, which won the 2004 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature.

ScriptNight, a public reading series of Minnesota Screenwriters’ Workshop, will present a staged reading of the screenplay at 7pm Mon May 1 at Mixed Blood Theatre. The reading is made possible through a special arrangement between Screenwriters’ Workshop, Michael Maupin, Pete Hautman and his agent.

Please feel free to come down and take a listen! I haven’t yet read Godless, the book on which this screenplay is based, but the story conveyed by the screenplay is quite wonderful. Hooray for wonderful young-people’s literature and their screen adaptations! It’s no Flying Spaghetti Monster, but hooray nonetheless!