02 October 2006

Bathtub Circus Acts

I'm feeling a little woozy and tired - a combination of possibly getting sick again (?!?!??) and the aftereffects of a pretty bad reading this morning - but it's been a decently eventful week or so (Have I really not written in a week??), so here's your slightly disoriented run-down. Last Monday was Young Jean Lee's Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven, which I hope you've all had time to see with the break I've given you in your blog reading. Since then:

Tuesday: Temporary Theatre co-producing the resurrected Things to Ruin at Ars Nova/NYMF. Awesome again. But very much looking forward to getting back to producing our own work. It's great to have money and publicity, but the beaurocracy is just ridic. All the "Huh, I think that's Ars Nova's jurisdiction" and "Hm, I think you need to talk to NYMF about that," and I'm just looking forward to scrounging for change at Manhattan Theatre Source again.

Wednesday: Los Jankees. (That's a Yankees game for those of us who don't follow the random busting out of Spanish accents.) With James and Kate in the bleachers. Lesson learned: I have a really hard time following a game from the bleachers. It's impossible to see where the baserunners are, and you can't hear the ball being hit. You just wonder what everyone's looking at and realize someone just hit a home run. Or seventeen of them, for this game. But still super fun. And in my continuing quest to make every Yankees game as gay as possible: dinner from Whole Foods (at least it wasn't sushi), and this text-message conversation, much to James' delight:

-So, James, Kate, and I are at the Yankee game, and we're wondering - is M. a gay?

-M. is a big old fag. Go yankees.

Thursday: Mediocre theatre for work, but then - Don't Quit Your Night Job! A late-night monthy Broadway improv/sketch comedy show at Joe's Pub to benefit TDF's Open Doors program. As John works for Open Doors, I not only got in free, but also got to sit at a prime reserved table in the incredibly packed room. Oh, and did I mention who was at the table next door? Oh, just, like, half of the History Boys. I had a nice little exchange with Russell Tovey about the non-transatlaticism of the word "queef." Classy.

But in other news, Don't Quit Your Night Job is awesome. As it fell in the middle of a week-and-a-half stretch of no gym-going, Thursday was a day of much walking - from Times Square to Lafayette & Prince, then to the West Village, then back to Lafayette at Astor Place. 3 and a half miles or so, in $12 sneakers and dodgy socks. (Ow ow.) So I arrive at Joe's Pub around 11pm a tired girl. And I'm generally a tired girl. But this show kept me up - when we finally left Joe's Pub around 1:30 (am! I am such a wild child!) I was still wired. Broadway actors doing sketch comedy and improv - sounds lame right? Wrong! These are some funny kids! Led by Steve Rosen (Spamalot), Sarah Saltzberg (Spelling Bee) and David Rossmer (Fiddler on the Roof), and with all sorts of talented guests, it's a great show. (Also a famousy audience, for those of us who happen to be twelve-year-old Broadway freak fan-girls at heart.) Highlights included Michael McGrath (who's brilliant as "Patsy" in Spamalot) telling a beautiful and funny story about going on as an understudy with absolutely zero rehearsal, and Kelli O'Hara doing musical mad-libs of "There Once Was a Man." Though wouldn't one of Clara's tardy Light in the Piazza songs have been funnier? Oh well. Still a great show, and I'll definitely be back next time. I think common folk tickets aren't too expensive, and it really goes to a great cause. October 26th is the next one. Get there early for a seat - last time was sold out, and they pack you in. Look for me hobnobbing up front with the stahs.

Friday & Saturday: A lovely drive up to the Berkshires punctuated by an hour-and-a-half stop at a Westchester gas station for me to try to decide if I'm actually going to throw up. Once I decide I'm not (and the gas station closes), I blast the Dar Williams on my headphones and fall asleep under everyone's sweatshirts. (Am I the only person whose throwing up is heralded by violent shivering?) The rest of the weekend was lovely, even if I was limited to english muffins and plain pasta, and if I happened to miss the only clear night for stars Friday because looking up into limitless space isn't great for the touchy stomach. But even without a glimpse of the Milky Way, a great weekend. Highlight: a complete, to-the-end game of Monopoly. Simpsons Monopoly, in fact, which really just meant that my playing piece was a three-eyed fish and that rather than houses and hotels it's monorail stops and monorail stations, which I think mean the same thing, except station is a longer word. James and I fought valiantly, but lost to Resnick Perlman LTD, as James dubbed them. Or as someone else may have called them, "fucking faggot kikes."

Sunday: Absinthe at the Spiegeltent. I only regret that we went closing night - otherwise I'd be telling you to see it, and I'd likely be going again. Sort of burlesque/vaudeville/circus with a Weimar cabaret feel. Very very awesome. Highlights included the Norwegian contortionist during whose act I had to look away because I was still a little iffy, and he was dislocating joints all over the place; the steamy bathtub aerial acrobatics guy (the guy was steamy, the bathtub was not, though it was full of water); and my favorites, the british three-piece-suit acrobatics duo, who before their last trick (theirs are of the slow strength skills, like lifting one another at fantastical angles, having one stand on the other's shoulders or head) ripped off their (break-away) suits and performed in Union Jack undies. With their dress socks held up with garters, of course. It was a brilliant, brilliant show. Hopefully it'll be back next year.


Kate said...

I agree with ALL of the above. I'm not sure that anything will ever be able to impress me after Absynth. Really. Ever.

Jeremy said...

I actually saw the British duo with the British undies do their act busker-style outside on the less-fishy-smelling cobblestones of the Seaport tourist trap, before going into the Tent to see another act (One Ring Zero), only later realizing that they were part of Absinthe and not always there in front of the Titanic lighthouse.