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Acting

Ever Seen a Ghost?

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Acting

Cancellation

I’m sorry to have to announce a cancellation.

Unfortunately my friend, host and producer Mary Carey has had a bereavement and must attend a family funeral on the 27th April.

The world premiere of AstroBard is canceled.

AstroBard – Cancelled

This was to be a singular gig, as my chum David Verrey (catch him in Napoleon) put it: “to attend the gathering of a knot of astro-literati in a Cotswolds village hall to see a woo-woo presentation given by a Briton, resident in New York … well, where else can you get that?”

And so given the, of necessity, somewhat homespun publicity on this one, I am circulating this post far and widely.

Following the theme of the show, Mark and I have agreed (although of course one wishes it were in happier circumstances) that this does distantly reference the old gag:

Psychic Fair 

Cancelled Due 

To Unforeseen Circumstances

This is really a postponement, AstroBard will take the stage at a later date.

Meanwhile …

I am pleased to announce the first in my occasional series, “My Guest Today”. The idea of this show is simple: whenever I meet someone interesting I ask them to have a chatty half hour with me at the local television station.

This is an interview with David Bruson, a man with a unique connection to an Australian hero, the late great Barry Humphries.

Available here

I admit to a certain over-loquacity on my part as the interviewer – this totally a result of a) being over-excited in the moment, and b) my life-long admiration for and fascination with Barry’s astonishing life and work.

Dame Edna Everage

My journey into awareness of Australia and what it meant to me began on or about April 1st 1972. 

I had an Australian Godfather (the best of godfathers) living in London, but being British born myself and in 1972 a mass of the identity chaos known as ‘a teenager’, I really had no idea how the Aussie piece fitted my personal jig-saw.

I was fifteen when I first went to Australia on a Qantas airplane. I remember the flight vividly. It was overbooked and in the Manila transit lounge in the Philippines passengers were offered money and three nights accommodation if they would take a later flight. I was tempted, but in pre-internet days had no way to communicate with my Australian relatives waiting to meet me in Sydney.

8 months in one of the most beautiful cities in the world with a hugely welcoming aunt, uncle, a grandmother, a couple of younger cousins, and some extended family, the time including a sojourn at North Sydney Boys high school, and a spell in the North Shore hospital following a dose of viral meningitis visited on me during a locust storm in the bush, and I really did wonder who the hell I was.

I could have stayed in Australia at that point and about 49% of me wanted to. But the controlling 51% was adamant to consolidate the remnants of my British I.D. and so I returned to London to complete the confused teen years in that capital.

Shortly after I got back to England, my godfather, Collin Bates (AKA Tucker Bates – a superb jazz pianist) introduced me to an LP of Sandy Stone, and without trying I learned every word of the long monologue. It would be a few years before I realized that this was a character created by Barry Humphries.

Barry Humphries on his 87th birthday

So I am pleased to introduce you to my occasional chat show, “My Guest Today”. As I said above, David Bruson is someone who knew Barry Humphries intimately and worked closely with him for several years, becoming part of Barry’s showbiz family.

I think the conversation is a bit of an exploration of the cultural crossroads where Britain, the USA and Australia meet (and don’t) through the lens of contact with one of the great comic geniuses of the 20th and 21st centuries.

If Barry Humphries is new to you, you are likely familiar with one of his creations: Dame Edna Everage or Sir Les Patterson or Sandy Stone? This great Australian was lately honored with a state funeral in Sydney.

Sir Les Patterson
Categories
Acting

World Premiere

This notice goes to far flung places. Your blogger understands that you may not be able to make it to Ilmington, UK on the night. Maybe you know someone who would enjoy AstroBard?

Categories
Acting

What’s New in Pleasantville?

Pleasantville Astrology opens for business on February 1st 2024. And we are running an Opening Special.

Pleasantville is a very fine town in Westchester, north of New York City. It has a great transport link in the shape of the Metro North (Harlem Line) railway and it takes a manageable fifty minutes to get to Grand Central. So is it a dormitory town for commuters working in the city? Only up to a point.

The town of Pleasantville links to the great NYC, but it has its own vibe, its own virtues. The Jacob Burns Film Center is a flagship point of focus. The Burns has a creative programming policy, they show the most interesting of the latest commercial releases and they combine that with quasi-obscure indie movies from international sources. There are quiet dramas, niche documentaries, quirky comedies, and if you’re a member you get free popcorn on a Wednesday.

It could have gone another way … The property now occupied by the Burns was being eyed by a chain clothing store, and the word is that the popular vote would have gone that way, but a single elected representative stuck out and stuck up for film art. The town is better for it. Because it’s a destination. 

Wheeler Avenue has one of every kind of restaurant; Asian fusion (Actually 2 of them), a Pizza place, one of three in the wider municipality with one more on the way; a couple of delis, a trattoria, a micro brewery, a steak house, a fish and chip shop (alas now closed; I cried; it’s a British thing), and more delis sprinkled around corners, a sushi place, a Southern kitchen, an unusual meld of French and Indian (You don’t believe it? Catch a train up here and I’ll show you). And you can get tacos and take-out. But there’s more.

Of the seven emporiums selling alcoholic refreshment there is one advanced establishment which serves Irish Whiskey aged in Guinness casks (think of it!?!).

And there are five denominations amongst the churches; Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutheran and Episcopalian, plus a synagogue, oh six if you count the Korean place now closed which has turned its grounds into a community garden and a place to do al fresco yoga in the summer. At the Presbyterian church they host a FREE chamber music performance from top-notch musicians, four times a year.

There are three or four dry cleaners, a gym, two nail salons and a car dealership. But there are only three national chains (Dunkin’, Starbucks, 711 ) and they nestle a real live coffee shop where you can borrow a book, or take it home, or leave one for someone else. There is a farmer’s market every week. Fresh fish, all kinds of produce, cheeses to sample on friendly plates, bakers, Tibetan steamed dumplings, grass fed beef. There is a vegan food-to-go spot too, where you can get wheatgrass shots and an excellent mulligatawny soup. They have a bicycle shop here, and there are dentists and psychologists should you need them.

Pleasantville Community Television produces an eclectic mix of local small screen stuff. There’s a swimming pool. And don’t forget the Norman Rockwell type diner, glistening in chrome and marble in Memorial Plaza. A car mechanic. An opportunity shop. There’s more … The Jean Jaques bakery in its third generation makes amazing quiches. You can buy lottery tickets at one of the four gas stations. I only ever do so when the jackpot reaches nine figures, after all, you’ve got to have a reason to cross the road.

We have a barber, three or four hairdressing salons, three vintners and a supermarket. There is a volunteer fire department, and every now and then someone over there sounds a base-note klaxon which is reminiscent of an elephant farting. (Not that I’ve ever heard an elephant fart.)

One town down the track, the aptly named Valhalla boasts a magnificently landscaped cemetery of several hundred acres with a pond and ornamental trees. Al Hirschfeld’s last remains rest there, as do Danny Kaye’s.

One town over towards the three thousand acres of semi-wild managed woodland that is the Rockefeller Preserve, is the village of Pocantico Hills where the Union Church (another denomination) boasts half a dozen stained glass windows by Chagall, with a Rose Window by Matisse. The Preserve itself was a sanctuary during the lockdown, Trish and I walked there in all seasons. At Pocantico there is an internationally known restaurant called Stone Barns – it wasn’t known to me, and when I asked if there was a table for two for lunch, the charming lady on the door told me that bookings for lunch were running on a six month waiting list.

There’s a great library.

The Pleasantville schools are sought after. Young and growing families move here from urban pressure-cooker situations where micro spaces go for late-capitalism macro rents.

There’s a theatre too. Arc Stages is in the middle of a capital campaign to raise funds to improve the space. Lots of town kids want to act, so there’s a youth group that supports them, and a couple of times a year the season is sprinkled with Equity members. Usually theatre economics means that the Equity shows are limited to two-handers, but they are balanced by the community shows which boast big casts.

There’s a yearly music festival and there’s a table tennis centre run by a man – the only one I’ve ever met – who designed his own degree at college – the puzzle master of the New York Times and beyond, Will Shortz.

Not far away in Chappaqua there is a walk in the woods that takes you up to a cascading waterfall. And there is a maze.

If ever there was a town which lives up to it’s name it’s this one. Pleasantville. I remember reading about Smallville where Superman came from (after Krypton) when I was a boy in England. Now I wonder if the super-hero equivalent  here is the lady who runs one of the last physical bookshops in the county. It’s just not the same buying online is it?

All kinds of goods and services are available here in Pleasantville. There was a dojo where I did T’ai Chi for a little while. Sadly it fell out of service in the lockdown. But the town is thriving. In Memorial Plaza, where flags wave, a recently completed new apartment building with 70 or more deluxe places with deluxe rents has just opened for business.

Parking is an issue. I mean in civic terms. At town meetings there is spirited discussion on parking. I say nothing. Except, if you want to do parking, try it in north-west London, UK. That’s parking.

And in the Black Cow coffee shop you’ll find copies of Natural Awakenings, the holistic listings directory. Holistic dentistry, divorce counseling, Reiki, nutrition, yoga, and more.

And amidst all this variety and life. Was there an astrologer available in Pleasantville? 

There is now. 

Take a look: pleasantvilleastrology.com

Pleasantville Astrology
42 Memorial Plaza, Suite 131, 2nd floor
Categories
Acting

Solo Bard

As far as we know Shakespeare never wrote a solo. Well there are the poems of course. From time to time some brave actor has a go at the sonnets – an enormous challenge, and there are the narrative poems: Venus and Adonis, The Rape of Lucrece and the shorter, The Phoenix and the Turtle and A Lover’s Complaint – you seldom see these last named because if they do get an outing it’s usually a semi-desperate actor struggling to come to notice in one of the further-from-town venues at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

Of all playwrights Shakespeare is surely the hardest to destroy.

Patrick Page in All The Devils Are Here. Photo by Julieta Cervantes

By which I mean, although it is distressingly easy to act Shakespeare badly, even when poorly done, something of the essence survives and makes the show worth seeing. Well having said that, I can think of at least one stand out exception at a major institutional theatre. Oh, alright more than one – but even in the worst of The Bard, you can close your eyes and forgive any shortcomings in diction, articulation and breath-support and imagine what your favorite actors would have done with it, can’t you? And if you do that, you can get drunk on the language.

Bad Shakespeare is, I admit pretty disturbing. But think of Shaw badly done, or, I will go further, Ibsen, nay, Pinter. When these masters are chopped up by practitioners that never found the rhythm, the result is often narcotic.

But when Shakespeare is well done … ah, that’s the stuff.

All this is a long preamble to me saying kudos to Patrick Page who has brought us a solo titled, “All the Devils are Here”. The show is an amalgam of theatre lore, well-chosen villainous Shakespearean soliloquies, (with a dash of Marlowe as a celebrity guest) and everyday chat nicely sprinkled with humor.

I persuaded Trish to accompany me on a visit to NYC to watch “All the Devils Are Here.”

It was fabulous.

I had been apprehensive. Sir John (Gielgud) has set the bar (his “Seven Ages of Man” solo) at a height to which few of us can aspire. Although his voice in recordings now sounds firmly rooted in its period; for diction, articulation, breath-control and above all, economy of expression, and once you get through all that, for the simplicity and the force of his characterizations, he stands alone.

Sidebar here: I saw “The Motive and the Cue” in London a few months ago. It has now transferred from The National to the West End, and there has been an announcement that it is hoped to bring it to New York.

The play treats on Gielgud directing Burton in Hamlet in 1964 on Broadway. A fabulous mixture of theatre gossip, and two actors divided by a mutual love of language and all that it can do. If the play does make it over here, run don’t walk for tickets.

But a solo Shakespeare? I half expected to have that experience that Peter Brook describes in his book, The Empty Space, that is to say, mouthing the words of the soliloquies that one half remembers, at the same time being mildly bored because of indifferent delivery from the performer on the stage.

Not a bit of it!

Patrick Page, who is a quality Shakespeare veteran was supported by an excellent production in terms of the lighting, set, and direction as well as his own superb skills as an actor, including a lean physique and strong baritone. His phrasing approached Sinatra-like detail and his vocal variety was finely judged. The show came in at 80 minutes which I think is clever. At 60 minutes the audience has fully tuned in and is thinking, “this could go on for a while” but at ninety minutes, the audience starts to look at its watch.

As well as all that, we had the New York City cosmopolitan experience of running into two dear friends, Carol and Bob, one friendly director, Gus Kaikonen, and a friendly actor Walker Jones – so there was theatre schmooze as well.

If you have Bardic leanings, I highly recommend this show, and even if you don’t!

Go here for tix.