A white-bearded fisherman was arranging his nets on a pier in the early morning, near an old juggler, who had shared the pier with him for years. He took a moment to watch the juggler throw a ball as high as she could into the air. It was windy, and they both noticed an interesting wobble in the ball that neither had ever seen before.
Its #InternationalWomensDay, so I’m going to talk about what happens when @AdmiralAsthma and I do the same job, since we both direct improvised plays, and we’ve both been an obvious part of the Seattle improv scene for about the same time. This isn’t a “big deal” story, on its own, leading to any big conflict. It’s a very normal, every day sort of story.
“What’s most important to me is that it’s about the present. It’s not really about an imagined future. It’s a way of trying to come to terms with the awe and terror inspired in me by the world in which we live.”
— William Gibson
“I don’t try to describe the future. I try to prevent it.”
— Ray Bradbury
“What’s wrong with the modern times is that the future isn’t what it used to be.”
— Paul Valery
I love Shadowrun for a lot of reasons. There’s room for pink-mohawked ork razorgirls, gritty noir anti-heroes, crazy spirits who don’t understand our world, and giant Bladerunner-esque corporations. We play with a lot of this for entertainment on Shadowrun: Corporate SINs, our Wednesday 6pm show on HyperRPG.
There is a lot to talk about, regarding The Force Awakens, but without giving away any more plot than the trailer, I can discuss how much better the filmographic focus and restraint are than in the Prequels.
There’s nothing more I love about Seattle than seeing August Wilson at the Seattle Rep, and so I was excited to attend The Piano Lesson today. Every time I see a good show there, I’m reminded that there’s so much potential for theater that we improvisers lose when we stop growing as collaborative story tellers.
Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a place. She lived with her mother, who had a funny voice and stirred a pot a lot. One day, her mother told her to be careful in the woods, because if she strayed from a path, a wolf might eat her. Before Red could reply, a wolf burst through the door. He strutted about, waving his funny tail, and telling everyone he was hungry. Suddenly, a woodsman burst in and chopped the wolf in the belly. Grandmother came jumping out of the wolf’s belly, and danced around joyfully. Little Red Riding Hood struggled to get downstage to say something witty but the lights came down and they lived happily ever after.
I saw Les Miserables at Village Theatre opening night.
I had a good time, so let me say some good things first: The set is fantastic, and a lot of the performances were wonderful (I know Kate Jaeger, but don’t think its bias speaking when I say that she, Nick DeSantis and Victoria Ames Smith made for some of the strongest Les Miserables scenes I’ve ever seen staged). Everyone involved should be proud of the piece. Go see it, and you’ll almost certainly be impressed.
Here’s the rub : I spent the whole time marveling at the technical spectacles of the show. And that’s the problem.
All this pitting of sex against sex, of quality against quality; all this claiming of superiority and imputing of inferiority belong to the private-school stage of human existence where there are sides, and it is necessary for one side to beat another side. ~Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own, 1929
On Saturday, my improv group, NERDProv, performed at GeekGirlCon. We had a really fun show, got a lot of compliments, and all of us felt pretty good about the show. In notes, we realized that the show had been pretty heavy with males playing main characters. And then one of our members forwarded us a strong, well-expressed and fair piece of criticism from an audience member who walked out. It echoed some things we talked about in notes, so it really hit home.
“Nothing is as poor and melancholy as an art that is interested in itself and not its subject.” –Santayana
Ever watched or performed in a vague, low-energy, hesitant, abstract scene that seemed like it might be about something important, if the audience could just keep their eyes open long enough to be sure?
Ever watched an improv showcase, and felt like the earlier classes were a lot more fun to watch than the more experienced students?
Ever ended a show with that feeling that it should have either been funnier or more meaningful, the cast divided, and everyone shrugging and not sure what to do about it?