Last Friday our Education Associate Jess and I went downtown to see if shoppers at Westlake Center 1. Like John Denver and 2. Would sing his songs for us on camera (because, you know, we're opening Back Home Again: A John Denver Holiday Concert tonight. The results? Seattle likes John Denver AND they like to sing (you can be the judge of whether or not they can sing).
By the way, we got a sneak peek of the music (performed by former members of John's band, including Dan Wheetman who co-wrote Fire on the Mountain, which we did last season). It was awesome. I didn't even think I liked John Denver, and surprise! It almost brought me to tears. Take me home, country roads.
Showing posts with label Fire on the Mountain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fire on the Mountain. Show all posts
John Denver Sing-a-Long
|
Labels:
Christmas,
Dan Wheetman,
downtown,
Fire on the Mountain,
Jess Smith,
John Denver,
music,
Seattle Rep,
Shopping,
singing,
video,
Westlake
Smells Like Teen Spirit
|
Labels:
education,
Fire on the Mountain,
interns,
Lorenzo Pisoni,
Rachel Corrie,
Seattle,
The Great Gatsby,
theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
I just came back from taking photos of students from three local high schools warming up for their show tonight, Teenspeak: My Name Is (for details, see the blog below "Thinking, Talking"). I don't feel right posting pictures of our high schoolers (although I can testify they were giggly then they were impressively focused), but I do feel fantastic posting this picture of our Education Programs Manager Scott Koh, taken just prior to warm-ups, which he clearly didn't need.
Scott might be making that face because the education team has got a bit of the crazy, winding down a really intense year. This particular Teenspeak project, under the guidance of Scott's fellow Education Programs Manager Fran Kao, has been a year in the making and now will be debuted and closed in less than 40 minutes in one night. Without any breather, they all launch into Drama Intensive, a collaboration with The Center School. Playwriting students work with Education Director Andrea Allen to help shape a script (this year's is an adaptation of the restoration comedy School for Scandal) then switch gears to become the actors while another class designs sets and costumes. I was involved in the marketing last year for the circus-y "Pants on Fire." It was fun and exhausting, and I think I made that Scott Koh face more than once.
It is cool, though, with so many education programs happening, there's always a sense of vitality around here. We have a new crop of post-college interns every year (you can read their blog here), high school interns at different points in the season, and very often some students in one of the rehearsal spaces preparing for something under the direction of one of our teaching artists. We pack out the student matinees, which, for shows like Fire on the Mountain, become something of a rock concert (you should have heard the girls squeal over hottie Lorenzo Pisoni in The Great Gatsby, of course I did too, so that's not really a high school thing). It's just a nice reminder that these are (we hope) the next generation of arts patrons; some are already. The sustainability of theater really depends on them. Scary? Yes, sometimes, when you're teaching a class and can't compete with iPods and cell phones, but also exciting. When they're committed, they are committed and producing really amazing stuff.
Speaking of, time to go down and watch the My Name Is Project. Would it be horrible to have a cocktail at the bar downstairs before I go? I want to try out the new Gem of the Ocean specialty drink (a gimlet, called the Aught 4). Ok, ok, I'll wait until after.
I just came back from taking photos of students from three local high schools warming up for their show tonight, Teenspeak: My Name Is (for details, see the blog below "Thinking, Talking"). I don't feel right posting pictures of our high schoolers (although I can testify they were giggly then they were impressively focused), but I do feel fantastic posting this picture of our Education Programs Manager Scott Koh, taken just prior to warm-ups, which he clearly didn't need.
Scott might be making that face because the education team has got a bit of the crazy, winding down a really intense year. This particular Teenspeak project, under the guidance of Scott's fellow Education Programs Manager Fran Kao, has been a year in the making and now will be debuted and closed in less than 40 minutes in one night. Without any breather, they all launch into Drama Intensive, a collaboration with The Center School. Playwriting students work with Education Director Andrea Allen to help shape a script (this year's is an adaptation of the restoration comedy School for Scandal) then switch gears to become the actors while another class designs sets and costumes. I was involved in the marketing last year for the circus-y "Pants on Fire." It was fun and exhausting, and I think I made that Scott Koh face more than once.
It is cool, though, with so many education programs happening, there's always a sense of vitality around here. We have a new crop of post-college interns every year (you can read their blog here), high school interns at different points in the season, and very often some students in one of the rehearsal spaces preparing for something under the direction of one of our teaching artists. We pack out the student matinees, which, for shows like Fire on the Mountain, become something of a rock concert (you should have heard the girls squeal over hottie Lorenzo Pisoni in The Great Gatsby, of course I did too, so that's not really a high school thing). It's just a nice reminder that these are (we hope) the next generation of arts patrons; some are already. The sustainability of theater really depends on them. Scary? Yes, sometimes, when you're teaching a class and can't compete with iPods and cell phones, but also exciting. When they're committed, they are committed and producing really amazing stuff.
Speaking of, time to go down and watch the My Name Is Project. Would it be horrible to have a cocktail at the bar downstairs before I go? I want to try out the new Gem of the Ocean specialty drink (a gimlet, called the Aught 4). Ok, ok, I'll wait until after.
Thinking, talking
|
Labels:
arts,
education,
Fire on the Mountain,
Gem of the Ocean,
Marya Sea Kaminski,
Phylicia Rashad,
Rachel Corrie,
Seattle,
theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
It's amazing how the weeks can just slip by around here. One play opens, another closes. My work days recently have been measured in free food and drinks: champagne to toast Braden and Marya on the great opening of Rachel Corrie; pizza to send off the musicians of Fire on the Mountain (no Kentucky bourbon, but it was lunch time). Now a brief reprieve before Gem of the Ocean (with the amazing Phylicia Rashad at the helm!) will open with great fanfare, capping a great, albeit exhausting, season. So, now that my very poor explanation of blog lag (excess food...ok, I've been busy with other things too) is done, let me share something with you.
The other day, I snuck into the end of a student matinee of My Name is Rachel Corrie to see the post play discussion. I was curious to see how high school students would respond to a play about someone not too much older than them. Would it resonate and ring true? They were virtually silent throughout the entire performance. The discussion was slow to start, but once Marya came back on stage and started--in her graceful, optimistic, humble way--to dialogue with the audience, the questions started rolling in.
Yes, there was the ubiquitous "How did you memorize all of those lines?" ("I'm still not sure I know them all," she said) but there were also questions about how the play has changed Marya's outlook on the controversy. Students asked if Rachel's spirit has inspired her to become more of an activist (yes, "I don't think I'll ever be the same," she said). One student from a school in Olympia shared that she played pinball at the same place Rachel mentions in the play. Marya's face lit up, "Really? You've been there?"
I've been having a hard time remembering that Rachel Corrie was a real person. Of course I know it rationally, and I've seen pictures and met her parents, but it seems impossible that these beautiful words could have come from the pen of someone just a little younger than I who lived an hour away and died in a country I pretty much know nothing about. I feel connected to her in a strange, remote way, but I feel oddly voyeuristic looking inside her head without knowing her. However, I think Annie Wagner might have been right when she wrote on the Stranger slog yesterday, "Everyone who keeps a private journal has some consciousness of a future audience, whether you’re aiming at your older self or fantasizing a public ravenous for your juvenilia."
It did seem like Rachel was writing for an audience of some kind, and I'm sure she would probably be happy to know her words were eliciting this kind of response--even outrage. The student audience asked Marya what she imagined Rachel would think about the play. Marya said she thought Rachel would be proud and happy to know her words were making people think and talk. It makes me think about what I'm doing now that would possibly impact anyone once I’m gone. I've just finished writing a country musical about heartbreak. While I'm sure someone might find it funny, entertaining, whatever, I feel really motivated now to use my passion for theater to start a spark. About something. Wow, it sounds like I'm writing a cover letter or something.
Speaking of writing, next Wednesday, April 4, Seattle Rep is presenting Teenspeak: My Name Is. Using My Name is Rachel Corrie as a jumping off point, students from three area high schools worked with Seattle Rep teaching artists to develop short theatrical pieces about their lives and the issues that are important to them. I got to sit in on their first read through. I was just stunned at the concise, insightful poetry that they've created. The performance takes place at 6 p.m. prior to the April 4 performance of Rachel Corrie. It's free, but reservations are necessary. Whether or not you're coming to Rachel Corrie that night, I would really encourage you to check out the My Name Is project. I think you'll find yourself rather inspired. To make reservations call the box office at 206-443-2222.
It's amazing how the weeks can just slip by around here. One play opens, another closes. My work days recently have been measured in free food and drinks: champagne to toast Braden and Marya on the great opening of Rachel Corrie; pizza to send off the musicians of Fire on the Mountain (no Kentucky bourbon, but it was lunch time). Now a brief reprieve before Gem of the Ocean (with the amazing Phylicia Rashad at the helm!) will open with great fanfare, capping a great, albeit exhausting, season. So, now that my very poor explanation of blog lag (excess food...ok, I've been busy with other things too) is done, let me share something with you.
The other day, I snuck into the end of a student matinee of My Name is Rachel Corrie to see the post play discussion. I was curious to see how high school students would respond to a play about someone not too much older than them. Would it resonate and ring true? They were virtually silent throughout the entire performance. The discussion was slow to start, but once Marya came back on stage and started--in her graceful, optimistic, humble way--to dialogue with the audience, the questions started rolling in.
Yes, there was the ubiquitous "How did you memorize all of those lines?" ("I'm still not sure I know them all," she said) but there were also questions about how the play has changed Marya's outlook on the controversy. Students asked if Rachel's spirit has inspired her to become more of an activist (yes, "I don't think I'll ever be the same," she said). One student from a school in Olympia shared that she played pinball at the same place Rachel mentions in the play. Marya's face lit up, "Really? You've been there?"
I've been having a hard time remembering that Rachel Corrie was a real person. Of course I know it rationally, and I've seen pictures and met her parents, but it seems impossible that these beautiful words could have come from the pen of someone just a little younger than I who lived an hour away and died in a country I pretty much know nothing about. I feel connected to her in a strange, remote way, but I feel oddly voyeuristic looking inside her head without knowing her. However, I think Annie Wagner might have been right when she wrote on the Stranger slog yesterday, "Everyone who keeps a private journal has some consciousness of a future audience, whether you’re aiming at your older self or fantasizing a public ravenous for your juvenilia."
It did seem like Rachel was writing for an audience of some kind, and I'm sure she would probably be happy to know her words were eliciting this kind of response--even outrage. The student audience asked Marya what she imagined Rachel would think about the play. Marya said she thought Rachel would be proud and happy to know her words were making people think and talk. It makes me think about what I'm doing now that would possibly impact anyone once I’m gone. I've just finished writing a country musical about heartbreak. While I'm sure someone might find it funny, entertaining, whatever, I feel really motivated now to use my passion for theater to start a spark. About something. Wow, it sounds like I'm writing a cover letter or something.
Speaking of writing, next Wednesday, April 4, Seattle Rep is presenting Teenspeak: My Name Is. Using My Name is Rachel Corrie as a jumping off point, students from three area high schools worked with Seattle Rep teaching artists to develop short theatrical pieces about their lives and the issues that are important to them. I got to sit in on their first read through. I was just stunned at the concise, insightful poetry that they've created. The performance takes place at 6 p.m. prior to the April 4 performance of Rachel Corrie. It's free, but reservations are necessary. Whether or not you're coming to Rachel Corrie that night, I would really encourage you to check out the My Name Is project. I think you'll find yourself rather inspired. To make reservations call the box office at 206-443-2222.
I got the black lung, pop...
|
Labels:
Appalachia,
bluegrass,
bourbon,
coal mining,
Conor Byrne,
Fire on the Mountain,
Seattle,
theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
It's 8:30 and I'm still at work, killing some time until the end of Fire on the Mountain when I'll go down to the lobby and, as a service to the musicians, sell their CDs to the legions of adoring fans. I really don't mind hanging out at my desk during the show because I can listen to the music over the monitors. I've heard the 90-minute musical play through probably about seven times now, and I'm at the point where I can sing along (harmonies and melodies) with just about all the songs. I wake up in the morning singing "It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mine." In the shower I'm humming "Daddy, won't you take me back to Mullenburg County?" On my way to work...ok, you get the point. I live in Seattle, but I might as well be a coal miner's daughter.
I already knew I liked bluegrass, but I didn't realize I liked it this much. Maybe it's that Fire on the Mountain has such a poignant story about the history of coal miners in Appalachia. Maybe it's all the bourbon I've been drinking lately. Who knows? But despite not having really any point of reference, I am really moved everytime I hear the music from the show. Not to mention, the musicians in the show are some of the nicest people I've met. Now if I could get one of them to teach me the banjo, I'd be set for my own career in bluegrass...
If you want more bluegrass, I guess there is a weekly Monday night bluegrass jam at Conor Byrne in Ballard (bluegrass at an Irish bar? Well the music does have its roots in Celtic tradition...). I keep meaning to go check it out. I guess I don't have any excuse not to now.
Well, as I'm listening to the musical, it sounds like the miners have black lung now, so that means it's almost over and I need to head down to the lobby. Don't worry, you'll leave smiling. The people the show is about are resilient--even black lung can't get them down.
It's 8:30 and I'm still at work, killing some time until the end of Fire on the Mountain when I'll go down to the lobby and, as a service to the musicians, sell their CDs to the legions of adoring fans. I really don't mind hanging out at my desk during the show because I can listen to the music over the monitors. I've heard the 90-minute musical play through probably about seven times now, and I'm at the point where I can sing along (harmonies and melodies) with just about all the songs. I wake up in the morning singing "It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mine." In the shower I'm humming "Daddy, won't you take me back to Mullenburg County?" On my way to work...ok, you get the point. I live in Seattle, but I might as well be a coal miner's daughter.
I already knew I liked bluegrass, but I didn't realize I liked it this much. Maybe it's that Fire on the Mountain has such a poignant story about the history of coal miners in Appalachia. Maybe it's all the bourbon I've been drinking lately. Who knows? But despite not having really any point of reference, I am really moved everytime I hear the music from the show. Not to mention, the musicians in the show are some of the nicest people I've met. Now if I could get one of them to teach me the banjo, I'd be set for my own career in bluegrass...
If you want more bluegrass, I guess there is a weekly Monday night bluegrass jam at Conor Byrne in Ballard (bluegrass at an Irish bar? Well the music does have its roots in Celtic tradition...). I keep meaning to go check it out. I guess I don't have any excuse not to now.
Well, as I'm listening to the musical, it sounds like the miners have black lung now, so that means it's almost over and I need to head down to the lobby. Don't worry, you'll leave smiling. The people the show is about are resilient--even black lung can't get them down.
Being Fabulous
|
Labels:
August Wilson,
Diane von Furstenburg,
Fire on the Mountain,
Gem of the Ocean,
John Jacovelli,
Nordstrom,
Rachel Corrie,
Seattle theater
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
It's 5:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I can say a few things with certainty: I am not wearing shoes (my high heels have been removed and tossed under my desk), I have consumed a ridiculous amount of food and wine (including two different desserts), and I would be napping face first on my keyboard if I didn't need to see Fire on the Mountain tonight.
An explanation? I'm not really a bad employee. In fact, it was my boss who bought me a ticket to the Nordstrom Spring Fashion Ovation--a fashion show organized by the Seattle Repertory Organization and fundraiser for the Rep. This year brought in a record amount for the Rep and featured the designs of Diane von Furstenberg. Basically the whole morning for me was spent applying lipstick, pretending I'm rich and fabulous (well, I don't really need to pretend about being fabulous) and then crashing back at my desk. Do actual work? Um, that's what tomorrow is for.
Once some of the wine had worn off, I headed downstairs for the meet and greet for Gem of the Ocean, the last play of the season. The excitement around this show is palpable. For one, it marks the Rep's completion of August Wilson's 10-play "Pittsburgh Cycle." It also means we're the only theatre in world (galaxy...universe...) to have performed all 11 of his plays because he performed his one-man show "How I Learned What I Learned" here in 2002.
During the meet and greet, August's wife Constanza Romero spoke about her and August's long history with the Rep. Set designer John Jacovelli shared his model of the set--Aunt Ester's house--and talked about the intricate wallpaper that might transform during Citizen Barlow's journey to the "City of Bones." (This probably sounds like gibberish, but go to Seattle Rep's website for a synopsis of the play). Director Phylicia Rashad (by whom quite a few of us staffers were a little star struck) chimed in with details the designers had forgotten to mention, but was mostly gracefully reticent.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is underway in rehearsals, Fire on the Mountain is playing to packed houses and has gotten some amazing reviews, and Gem is now in rehearsals. It feels like a great way to start winding down the season. And we're already gearing up for next season. We should have titles to announce in the next week. Stay tuned!
Also, I promise some blogs soon that will give you more of a peek into the artistic process, filled with thought-provoking nuggets, ripe for instigating intelligent discourse. Just don't give me a glass of wine for lunch...
It's 5:30 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I can say a few things with certainty: I am not wearing shoes (my high heels have been removed and tossed under my desk), I have consumed a ridiculous amount of food and wine (including two different desserts), and I would be napping face first on my keyboard if I didn't need to see Fire on the Mountain tonight.
An explanation? I'm not really a bad employee. In fact, it was my boss who bought me a ticket to the Nordstrom Spring Fashion Ovation--a fashion show organized by the Seattle Repertory Organization and fundraiser for the Rep. This year brought in a record amount for the Rep and featured the designs of Diane von Furstenberg. Basically the whole morning for me was spent applying lipstick, pretending I'm rich and fabulous (well, I don't really need to pretend about being fabulous) and then crashing back at my desk. Do actual work? Um, that's what tomorrow is for.
Once some of the wine had worn off, I headed downstairs for the meet and greet for Gem of the Ocean, the last play of the season. The excitement around this show is palpable. For one, it marks the Rep's completion of August Wilson's 10-play "Pittsburgh Cycle." It also means we're the only theatre in world (galaxy...universe...) to have performed all 11 of his plays because he performed his one-man show "How I Learned What I Learned" here in 2002.
During the meet and greet, August's wife Constanza Romero spoke about her and August's long history with the Rep. Set designer John Jacovelli shared his model of the set--Aunt Ester's house--and talked about the intricate wallpaper that might transform during Citizen Barlow's journey to the "City of Bones." (This probably sounds like gibberish, but go to Seattle Rep's website for a synopsis of the play). Director Phylicia Rashad (by whom quite a few of us staffers were a little star struck) chimed in with details the designers had forgotten to mention, but was mostly gracefully reticent.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is underway in rehearsals, Fire on the Mountain is playing to packed houses and has gotten some amazing reviews, and Gem is now in rehearsals. It feels like a great way to start winding down the season. And we're already gearing up for next season. We should have titles to announce in the next week. Stay tuned!
Also, I promise some blogs soon that will give you more of a peek into the artistic process, filled with thought-provoking nuggets, ripe for instigating intelligent discourse. Just don't give me a glass of wine for lunch...
What's in a Name?
|
Labels:
bourbon,
Fire on the Mountain,
Marya Sea Kaminski,
Rachel Corrie,
Washington Ensemble Theatre
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
I meant to write this post on Tuesday, but this week has quickly slipped between my fingers as we amp up for opening night of Fire on the Mountain (in previews now, officially open on Wednesday). I finally took our lobby display for the show to print this afternoon, and now the office is quiet, the weekend's almost here. If someone could get me a pina colada, I'll be ready to blog. Ok, apparently our cabana boy has the day off, so it'll have to be a less tropical blog. Which is fine, considering I'm going to jump right into talking about My Name is Rachel Corrie.
We had the meet and greet for the show on Tuesday, and beforehand I got the amazing opportunity to sit in on the first read-through. If you haven't heard, Washington Ensemble Theatre superstar Marya Sea Kaminski will be playing Rachel. If her first reading was any indication, she is going to be fantastic. She seems really connected to the role and already is capturing the passionate spirit of Rachel. I actually cried at one point in the show. That’s impressive for me because I'm not a crier at all (unless it’s It’s a Wonderful Life, which gets me every time). I was just right there with Marya the whole time.
I felt the same way watching her perform in her one-woman show In DisDress Now: Redux, which I saw at W.E.T. last month. The whole time I felt like we were having an intimate conversation. Of course, this was kind of awkward when I thought I knew Marya and were best friends already and went to talk to her and realized, no, I’ve never actually met her. She's very gracious and funny, though, and I am really excited to report that she's going to be blogging right here about her experience rehearsing My Name is Rachel Corrie.
I know this is a controversial play, but seeing the read-through really affirmed to me that this is a story about someone just looking for a way to make a difference. Ultimately, and I know some people will disagree with me, the route she took to try to make that difference doesn’t matter. What matters is that she was passionate about art and about eliciting social change to lessen suffering. She was just about my age when she died in 2003, and though her words can sounds young and maybe a little idealistic, I find the piece inspiring simply because she wanted to make the world a better place--as corny as that sounds-- and tried to do it. I would like to think I haven't reached a place of cynicism or jadedness in my life and might still be able to make a difference too. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I work in theater.
To completely switch gears, we're hearing nothing but raves about Fire on the Mountain, and if you want to see it, you should get tickets now because it's going to be packed. I think the show is so appealing because it's really your most basic story of survival and hope against all odds. Plus with great music. And presumably a delicious specialty cocktail for you to enjoy in the lobby. But first I need to go dream one up. Stay tuned for something bourbon-y.
I meant to write this post on Tuesday, but this week has quickly slipped between my fingers as we amp up for opening night of Fire on the Mountain (in previews now, officially open on Wednesday). I finally took our lobby display for the show to print this afternoon, and now the office is quiet, the weekend's almost here. If someone could get me a pina colada, I'll be ready to blog. Ok, apparently our cabana boy has the day off, so it'll have to be a less tropical blog. Which is fine, considering I'm going to jump right into talking about My Name is Rachel Corrie.
We had the meet and greet for the show on Tuesday, and beforehand I got the amazing opportunity to sit in on the first read-through. If you haven't heard, Washington Ensemble Theatre superstar Marya Sea Kaminski will be playing Rachel. If her first reading was any indication, she is going to be fantastic. She seems really connected to the role and already is capturing the passionate spirit of Rachel. I actually cried at one point in the show. That’s impressive for me because I'm not a crier at all (unless it’s It’s a Wonderful Life, which gets me every time). I was just right there with Marya the whole time.
I felt the same way watching her perform in her one-woman show In DisDress Now: Redux, which I saw at W.E.T. last month. The whole time I felt like we were having an intimate conversation. Of course, this was kind of awkward when I thought I knew Marya and were best friends already and went to talk to her and realized, no, I’ve never actually met her. She's very gracious and funny, though, and I am really excited to report that she's going to be blogging right here about her experience rehearsing My Name is Rachel Corrie.
I know this is a controversial play, but seeing the read-through really affirmed to me that this is a story about someone just looking for a way to make a difference. Ultimately, and I know some people will disagree with me, the route she took to try to make that difference doesn’t matter. What matters is that she was passionate about art and about eliciting social change to lessen suffering. She was just about my age when she died in 2003, and though her words can sounds young and maybe a little idealistic, I find the piece inspiring simply because she wanted to make the world a better place--as corny as that sounds-- and tried to do it. I would like to think I haven't reached a place of cynicism or jadedness in my life and might still be able to make a difference too. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I work in theater.
To completely switch gears, we're hearing nothing but raves about Fire on the Mountain, and if you want to see it, you should get tickets now because it's going to be packed. I think the show is so appealing because it's really your most basic story of survival and hope against all odds. Plus with great music. And presumably a delicious specialty cocktail for you to enjoy in the lobby. But first I need to go dream one up. Stay tuned for something bourbon-y.
We Didn't Start the Fire (Actually We Did)
|
Labels:
Ain't Nothin' But the Blues,
Appalachia,
Blue Door,
bluegrass,
Disneyland,
Fire on the Mountain,
John Denver,
Margaret Bowman,
Valentine's Day,
Waiting for Guffman
From Joanna Horowitz, Communications Department
If you were wondering why I haven't written in two weeks, it's not because I'm too busy at work or anything. I've just been at Disneyland. Sorry. But eventually everyone has to leave Space Mountain and a diet of beer and churros to return to the real world, and lucky for me, I returned just in time for the Fire on the Mountain meet and greet.
This morning the Seattle Rep company got together to listen to the cast of our upcoming bluegrass musical play and sing some snippets from the show. I was in heaven because I love bluegrass music and these performers are amazing. Dan Wheetman, who co-wrote the show (based on interviews with Appalachian coal miners), used to be John Denver's fiddle player. I couldn't help tapping my feet, and anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I'm not really a toe-tapping kind of girl. The show goes into previews next Thursday, Feb. 22, and runs until March 24. Dan and his collaborator Randal Myler wrote Ain't Nothin' But the Blues, which they performed at the Rep in 2004. I didn't see it, but apparently both shows have the same sort of documentary feel to them, coupled with stellar music.
After the songs, we all gorged ourselves on a giant cake that was ordered to celebrate cast member Margaret Bowman's birthday/60th wedding anniversary/Valentine's Day. Margaret is a talented musician, of course, but I was most excited when I found out she played the costumer in Waiting for Guffman. Am I totally dorky?
Oh, and happy Valentine's Day. What a great day to go to the theater (hint, hint). Blue Door is still playing and the audiences are LOVING it. And by audiences, I mean my parents, who came this weekend while I was in L.A. and left me a note that said "We LOVED Blue Door! P.S. We left some chicken in the fridge." Ok, other people love it too, but when my parents like something I know most people will. They're smart, like to be entertained, and are suckers for anything that takes them on some sort of emotional journey. Since I've been out of town, I haven't seen Blue Door yet, but I'm going tomorrow and then I will be able to tell you in all honestly to see the show, assuming it's as awesome as everyone is saying.
If you were wondering why I haven't written in two weeks, it's not because I'm too busy at work or anything. I've just been at Disneyland. Sorry. But eventually everyone has to leave Space Mountain and a diet of beer and churros to return to the real world, and lucky for me, I returned just in time for the Fire on the Mountain meet and greet.
This morning the Seattle Rep company got together to listen to the cast of our upcoming bluegrass musical play and sing some snippets from the show. I was in heaven because I love bluegrass music and these performers are amazing. Dan Wheetman, who co-wrote the show (based on interviews with Appalachian coal miners), used to be John Denver's fiddle player. I couldn't help tapping my feet, and anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I'm not really a toe-tapping kind of girl. The show goes into previews next Thursday, Feb. 22, and runs until March 24. Dan and his collaborator Randal Myler wrote Ain't Nothin' But the Blues, which they performed at the Rep in 2004. I didn't see it, but apparently both shows have the same sort of documentary feel to them, coupled with stellar music.
After the songs, we all gorged ourselves on a giant cake that was ordered to celebrate cast member Margaret Bowman's birthday/60th wedding anniversary/Valentine's Day. Margaret is a talented musician, of course, but I was most excited when I found out she played the costumer in Waiting for Guffman. Am I totally dorky?
Oh, and happy Valentine's Day. What a great day to go to the theater (hint, hint). Blue Door is still playing and the audiences are LOVING it. And by audiences, I mean my parents, who came this weekend while I was in L.A. and left me a note that said "We LOVED Blue Door! P.S. We left some chicken in the fridge." Ok, other people love it too, but when my parents like something I know most people will. They're smart, like to be entertained, and are suckers for anything that takes them on some sort of emotional journey. Since I've been out of town, I haven't seen Blue Door yet, but I'm going tomorrow and then I will be able to tell you in all honestly to see the show, assuming it's as awesome as everyone is saying.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)