I’ve been spending the last month working on this wild play called The Asshole Differential Continues (& we carry on). I’m playing the Leader, a part that I never would thought I’d be cast in, but one which has been a fantastic challenge. We go up this Wednesday through Monday and I’d love to have your support. Fair warning: It’s a weird, challenging, and possibly offensive script. So don’t bring your 5 year old brother unless you want him asking uncomfortable questions after the show, but do bring your slightly off but artistically minded friends and be prepared have a mind-melting experience!
Our writer/director Moira Cutler came up with this great little blurb so please read on if you’re interested! (Read more…)
I stepped on the train and sat down, pulled the paperback out of my coat pocket, and began to read. The shuffle of people was soon lost to me, an extraneous backdrop to the much more real events of my novel. Ah, yes, I remembered where I was, Roark had been threatened and I would turn the page to find his response. I read on. I don’t know when the young woman sat next to me, but it came to my attention that I had attracted her notice as I stretched my neck and she turned away too quickly. She had been reading over my shoulder. The fact did not bother me, but brought an amused smile to my face. I watched her eyes land on another passenger and resumed my reading.
In the days of stage coaches, travel from destination to destination was an investment. One would ride for hours or even days, often sharing the coach with a stranger or two. The duration of the trip encouraged conversation and friend-making, and benches were placed opposite each other, both for economy of space and to accommodate this social need. The practice carried over into the design of early train cars without too much thought, but it soon became apparent that with the reduced travel times and the advent of the commuting worker, the obligation to meet and greet ones traveling companions had changed from an effective way to pass time to an awkward, stressful, an unnecessary social convention.
Enter William Henry Smith. (Read more…)
I think my desk clock is broken. It’s a really nice clock I received for having “consistently demonstrated excellence in acting” by the culmination of my four year stint at Centre. Funny story, I was actually tore up about it when I received it because I didn’t get the award given to the person “judged to have contributed most to the Dramatic Arts Program over a period of four years.” Whatever. Perspective is everything. Now I just want my clock to work. I changed the batteries and it’s still slow. Feels like my acting career.
I did have my call back for the New Georges’ production of Milk this morning, though! (Read more…)
