Archive for the ‘Theatre’ Category

An Ideal Day

Monday, September 8th, 2014

There are different types of ideal days.
For me, surely today was one of them.

After what may have been the best night’s sleep that I have had in two or three months, I woke up with a cool breeze above my pillow and came downstairs to discover a nutritious breakfast smoothie and a pot of hot coffee to go with it. Thank you, Dana, for getting my day off to such a positive start. TSLA, YHOO, TJX, and FEYE took over from there, when the market opened, and I spent a productive morning managing my active trades for four separate accounts, including the Trust investment. I may have gotten a suitable entry price for a long position in VMW, but only time will tell with that. When the office intercom beeped, I was the beneficiary of a delicious roast turkey sandwich with a bowl of fresh gazpacho. It has been a fine season for tomatoes, and I am still working on getting my fill. Dana said that aging Walie was having one of her most lively days in a long time. After lunch, I noticed a new Ommatidia story by Brendan (which always makes my day), checked email, and worked a bit on my Spotify playlists, now that Marty has me successfully making the transition from Pandora. Some time ago I figured that eventually one would be able to watch any movie or TV show on demand, but I had not expected so soon to see the same be true of music. Yes, I have to listen to commercials now and then, but they are not as obnoxious as those on the Pandora site, since most of the Spotify ads are about the musical offerings themselves. Then it was into the painting studio for another session on the GAB portrait (with a few Danny Darst tunes for good company). I can say that I finally overcame the wall of fear (compliments of an old pal named perfectionism) that became attached to this commission, but now the pressing need is to find a route to the summit by the end of the month. I have pledged to myself to complete the artwork for Greg’s and Lynne’s return from their trip to France. At 4 o’clock, I crossed the street to play chess with the library group: one win, one loss (strangely enough, it usually works out that I beat the people I am capable of defeating and lose to those I am not capable of defeating). Although I rediscovered chess through vision therapy a while back, I am getting more serious about it this year, now that I can regularly match wits with local players right next door. Before I left, I checked out Is He Dead? (I admit that I wanted the Mark Twain comedy primarily to study the engravings by Barry Moser). When I got home I crossed paths with Dana, leaving to meet her spiritual group at the library, and then I jumped back into my yew-trimming topiary project in the front yard. With each passing growing season, it is easier and faster for me to keep them in shape, but more difficult to make significant changes or refinements. Nature will provide an occasional opportunity for a new direction or interesting detour, but it is mostly about keeping the whole effect under control. When the “skeeters” decided it was time to bite my ankles, it was off to Centre for some weight lifting before dinner. Being settled into the gym groove has always been a confidence-booster for me, and that goes back nearly 45 years. Peter Lupus emphasized that 100 twists a day kept his waistline small, although I have not been able to achieve the daily habit yet. In the workout room, I combine strenuous twists with the “ab chair” to manage my own belly, plus a circuit of machines and dumbbell exercises, in addition to the trusty bench press (where is that best buddy to spot me?). As I entered our back door after a brisk walk home, a blend of magnificent odors told me that Dana had been baking up a storm — sourdough bread, chocolate cake, and apple pie! We are preparing to celebrate Marty’s promotion to full-time employment at Hitachi in Harrodsburg. I am not the only member of the household on a roll. Well done, Grandson (and he got an A in his first course at the Technical College). Marty happened to be catching up on sleep (I cannot imagine handling a night-shift + school schedule the way he does), so Dana and I split a Red Hook and enjoyed a bowl of Swiss-chard-lentil soup with raw-tomato-basil-cheese salad. All that was left for me to do was to record my ideal day at this blogsite, and now I am ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow we shall begin again!
 


 

Posted in Art, Blogging, Brendan, Chess, Community, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Fiction, Food, Friends, Gardening, Gratitude, Home, Investing, Marty, Movies, Music, Nature, Personalities, Pets, Pie, Priorities, Psychology, Studio, Television, Theatre, Time | No Comments »

Two More Lost from Cast of OHIOANS . . .

Tuesday, September 25th, 2012

It was 31 years ago that I finished the OHIOANS painting that would become a poster for Wright State University and a milestone artwork for me. David R sent me an image of the wall in his new office/showroom, and it’s flattering to see how he configured the wall display. Hard to believe that OHIOANS has been around for this long. We still have the original painting hanging in our Danville studio. I thought about the artwork when Neil Armstrong died. Quite a few of those depicted were living when I created the original, and I can’t help but experience a certain sadness each time one is lost (Owens right after completion, and then, over the years: Hope, Lynde, Rogers, Bombeck, Newman, and just recently, Diller, as well as Armstrong). At the beginning, I had the wild idea of trying to circulate a poster through celebrity representatives and build a master copy with multiple signatures, but never followed through. Then I thought of just getting a poster into the hands of each one alive, but I didn’t have enough to spare. I think the University did present some to a few, such as Erma Bombeck, who made some witty remark about her beehive hair-do.

There is a space above Grant’s head that I’ve used to draw an additional portrait once or twice. The one I remember most was Daytonian Allan W. Eckert. I gave it to him the first time we met during a book signing in Ohio. Years later I talked to him in Kentucky and he told me that he had included the poster with his manuscripts and “papers” that would be turned over to an institution after his demise. That was the last time I saw him. The most memorable encounter with respect to the poster was the time Jamie Farr performed in Kentucky (he played George Burns in a one-man show), and we had the good fortune to greet him backstage afterward to personally present a poster. After a demanding stage performance that must have been totally exhausting, he couldn’t have been nicer to us and joked about Corporal Klinger and his tiara.

I realize now that I was young when I pulled this off. I felt mature at the time, having just created the most challenging piece of my early career. I was 29 years old, engaged to be married, and fully ensconced in my own independent studio. In many ways, I had already achieved nearly all the goals I had set in my youth.

davidr_ohioans.jpg

OHIOANS hangs in David’s new office and showroom
(Click to view a larger image.)

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Palsies, players, and the peloton

Tuesday, July 28th, 2009

I caught a ride to Ohio with Joan and Mombo on Friday afternoon, and we managed to arrive at the church in Tipp City while almost everyone was still there. The three of us had dinner with K&KK in downtown Tipp. When Dana found out that Bruce would not be released immediately from Jewish Hospital, she left Louisville and made the trip separately to join me at Amy and Bill’s later that night. The morning funeral was appropriate for “a theatrical family,” complete with bagpipes and a horse-drawn hearse. We walked the half mile or so to the Catholic cemetery and rediscovered the profound sense of community that is lost when mourners retreat to their individual automobiles. The family reception at the parish hall featured a salad-lover’s bonanza. I enjoyed talking to Rita, David, Clev, and Angela before we returned to say good-bye to “The Barefeet.” After I snapped the bride+groom+2dogs in their new great room, we made our way down to Taylorsville Dam and the 2009 Seitz Reunion. Always good to see each member of my mother’s family, whoever shows up. Some of us gathered at Marion’s Pizza afterwards. Joan and I got a kick out of the peculiar, black and white, celebrity photos from the 60s and 70s, many of which are now beginning to fade. She observed, “What John Kenley did with his Players was what the Colonel had hoped to do in Danville.” True, but Henson’s summer troupe survived his passing and lives on after 60 years. Back at the motel, Joan treated us to our own adjoining room and I had the rare opportunity to watch the final two stages of the Tour de France before we left the next day. Although Armstrong accepted his role as “domestique” to teammate and eventual winner Alberto Contador after the Alpine 15th stage, admitting that “I gave it everything I had, and I wasn’t the best,” it was exciting to watch him ensure his place on the podium while settling “unfinished business” on Mont Ventoux. I tried to get Mombo and Joan involved, but they were just too sleepy to follow the drama. Dana had more interest in the Sunday finish, with the stunning aerial views of Paris and the Champs-Elysees. Lance will be back to challenge his rivals next year, leading a new team sponsored by Radio Shack. Whether an “old fart” can unseat the young Spaniard at the age of 38 will surely be the focus of the 2010 Tour. After checkout, we headed directly to Louisville to get Bruce. I’d felt odd on Saturday that I hadn’t worn my Seitz T-shirt, but it was a good thing I’d put it in my bag, because it was the only clean shirt I could offer Bruce for his release and our trip home. We all got to the Town House safe and sound, and Bruce was feeling normal enough by Monday to be voicing grievances about minor issues in and around the kitchen. I can tell how much he’d like to have his independence back. I said, “When you begin to feel like a husband in your mother’s home, it’s time to carry out the exit strategy.” His laughter sounded good.
 
podium, 2009

— AP Photo | Bas Czerwinski

Posted in Bruce, Caitlan, Community, Dana, Death, Family, Friends, Home, Joan, Mombo, Personalities, Pets, Sport, Television, Theatre | No Comments »

n b c a = t c h k

Monday, June 9th, 2008

Well, Brendan has finally gone and done it. He’s found a way to combine most of his favorite talents—music, satirical writing, cartooning, comedic performance, creative collaboration, and your basic web magic. The end product of this fusion? An outrageous repository of droll hilarity known as The Children’s Hour of Knowledge. The site is co-produced with Stephen Heintz, and so far, it has two episodes. I haven’t heard anything quite like this since I listened to “I Think We’re All Bozos on This Bus” by The Firesign Theatre. (And that was 36 years ago—around the time I first started to make landmark journal entries just like this!). Go listen for yourself. Perhaps the best way to end this post is with an excerpt from my nephew’s biographical blurb: “In a perfect world, Brendan would be swiftly hunted down by those determined to keep it that way.”

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Various & Sundry, part seventy-one

Friday, February 1st, 2008

— Month of January workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-2; Run-0; Lift-2; Yoga-5; Pilates-4

— I’m barely hanging on to athletic respectability, thanks to Yoga/Pilates, but that doesn’t do much for my aerobic fitness. This hasn’t been one of my better annual kick-offs, “exercise-wise,” compared to the past few years. My hope is that our traditional Super Sunday mountain-bike ride will help me turn this around, because I have no intention of not being in decent shape this year. Good. That’s settled.

— “Health is wealth,” but here’s another important reason I need to stay in noticeably sound condition: the mayor asked me to think through the idea of establishing a permanent Bicyclist/Pedestrian Advisory Committee for the city of Danville. Sounds like he intends to take my recommendations to the Board of Commissioners as soon as I finish my homework. It came out of nowhere, but seems in sync with my desire to disengage at the state level to focus more on local action. As I’ve probably said before, my days as a Kentucky Commissioner are undoubtedly numbered, since the governor who appointed me wasn’t re-elected, and my term on the KBBC will expire before long.

— Seeing Ken Watanabe in Clint’s Letters reminded me of his other emotional performances in Geisha and Samurai. And then I became even more sad, because I recently found out that Hollywood set decorator Gretchen Rau died of a brain tumor. I was really wanting to enjoy more of her exceptional work.

— I’ve been hearing funny things about The Producers since I was a college student, but it never occurred to me that it would take 35 years before I finally saw the show. This evening Dana and I had fabulous seats at Norton Center for the excellent national touring production, and I don’t know if I’ve laughed that hard since I first saw Blazing Saddles. When I’m in the right mood, nothing is more hilarious to me than Mel Brooks at his very best. I’ve always figured he was a comedic genius, but after experiencing “Springtime for Hitler” tonight, I must appreciate that he’s a genius—period. I was reminded that, when facing down the wicked, many unavoidable things are required by our warriors, but art is the best—the only true—revenge, and satiric comedy may be the ultimate—the most difficult?—form of that. Would that every aspiring dictator could look ahead only to having his personality cult reduced to an object of ridicule and gut-cramping laughter.

There is no safety for honest men except
by believing all possible evil of evil men.
          —Edmund Burke

Rhetoric does not get you anywhere, because
Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric.
But if you can bring these people down with
comedy, they stand no chance.
          —Mel Brooks

V & S

Posted in Art, Community, Craftsmanship, Dana, Exercise, Movies, Personalities, Political Affairs, Public Service, Theatre | Comments Closed

Johnny in the Bluegrass

Monday, July 30th, 2007

With Norton Center so close at hand, it’s never been unusual around Danville to hear stories of visiting celebrities. Not that long ago, I even got to meet Jamie Farr in the green room, and to personally present him an OHIOANS poster. Eddie Montgomery is a typical presence in the area, and who knows what kind of visitors come and go out at the Rick Dees estate. As far as the entertainment industry is concerned, this community is really not that far off the beaten trail. And that’s why I was intrigued, but not entirely surprised, when I learned that Kim Darby was coming to Danville to star in “A Jarful of Fireflies” at Pioneer Playhouse, as part of the Raintree County 50th Anniversary Festival. I’ve always had ample respect for her talent, but now, based on Jennifer B’s article in the Sunday paper, the word is out that her beau, Johnny Crawford, is hanging around Boyle County these days, and that’s enough to activate the old fascination with my favorite TV stars. You see, I had a lot of Oldenday heroic idols back in the 60s, but there were two young guys a bit older than me that I considered the coolest teens to emulate: Don Grady (Robbie Douglas on My Three Sons) and Johnny Crawford (Mark McCain on The Rifleman). What was not to admire about Johnny Crawford? He could ride, rope, sing, play guitar, and, as an actor, hold his own on the tube next to Chuck Connors! Sure, as he matured, he became a “manufactured” heartthrob, but there was something genuine about him I could relate to, in contrast to a Vic Morrow or a Robert Conrad or a David McCallum. Hey, he was even cooler than Mark Vagedes! I hope he makes some sort of connection this summer that brings him back to town with his big-band dance orchestra for a future performance.

TV Guide with Johnny Crawford and Chuck Connors of “The Rifleman”

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Frenetic Friday

Friday, June 16th, 2006

Rotary Club was unusually interesting today. I was called upon to make an spontaneous appeal in support of The Salvation Army Summer Camp program. Then we heard from a hometown gal who’s taking Pioneer Playhouse by storm this summer, and that got me thinking about my young chum Andrew. Holly Henson, daughter of the Playhouse founder, gave her pitch about next year’s Raintree County 50th Anniversary Festival. She made us realize that in 1956, it was the most expensive domestic motion picture ever made, and that 40% of it was shot in and around Danville/Boyle County. She made what I thought was an amusing remark— “What if 50 years later everyone had forgotten that the movie Titanic was filmed at Herrington Lake?” Later in the afternoon, I had coffee with a rookie staff writer for the local newspaper to promote the “Share the Road Rally” in Frankfort next Saturday. I’m also in the process of raising the profile of the bicycling advocacy group that a few of us local cyclists have organized this year. We have some lofty goals, and decided it was time to “go public.” We’re committed to a long-term effort and agree it’s too late to put on the brakes now. We’ll press on and see what happens. After that, Dana and I cruised to Lexington for the Gallery Hop, grabbed dinner and a glass of wine at Alfalfa’s downtown eatery, and settled in for an Altman picture at the State Theatre. What a day!

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Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man

Monday, January 9th, 2006

As Dana and I worked our way back toward Danville, we found ourselves near the Kentucky Theater, with the chance to catch a showing of “The Squid and the Whale” during its last week in Lexington. We hadn’t been in the adjacent State Theatre since the screening of Andrew’s movie last summer. Seeing this kind of film reminds me how much I appreciate the full spectrum of cinema, from the huge spectacles like “War of the Worlds,” to small literary pictures like “Squid.” I’m not enough of a groupie to outline any details, but I recognize the quality of the creative output coming from this particular circle of film makers, including Noah Baumbach, Wes Anderson, Jennifer Jason Leigh (Vic Morrow‘s daughter), the Wilson brothers, and others. The nature of the circle’s connection to talents such as Bill Murray, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Kevin Kline are unknown to me, but serves as a clear reminder that the movie biz is a relatively “small world” at the nontechnical level. “Squid” has obvious parallels to “The Royal Tenenbaums,” but it also triggered some reflections on “The Anniversary Party.” Beyond the dynamics of the artistic circle (usually behind the camera, but occasionally in front as well), these kinds of low-budget, quasi-autobiographical pieces tend to fascinate me when well executed, not so much because of the typical, self-reflective focus on dysfunctional relationships, but the way in which the art affects me at an emotional level and stimulates personal objectives. For me, that’s what movie-going has always been about—the lingering internal ripples of the following day (and beyond, if I’m lucky, or did a decent bit of homework before making my choice of feature). For instance, in spite of all the attention to the unattractive snobbishness of intellectual elitism, I come away from “Squid” with the distinct desire to reverse my practice of keeping at arm’s length the major works of great novelists—Dickens, Melville, Proust, etc. It brings to mind the words of Michel Seuphor, which I copied in my journal a while back: “You can never see too many things in a work of art. Itself, the work is a means for discovering what is already within us. The true work of art is more than its creator; it is always behind him; soon it enters another orbit not his, because the artist changes, he dies, while the work lives in others.” Twyla Tharp takes it a step further, examining the potential power of sub-art, with her story about Jerome Robbins: He was “a true man of the theater, who made a point of going to see everything because he could find something useful in even the worst productions. He’d sit there, viewing the catastrophe onstage, and imagine how he would have done it differently. A bad evening at the theater for everyone else was a creative workout for him.” No bad art, only bad observers? I wouldn’t take it to that extreme…

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