We've been performing at Ball's Cabaret for the past month, and...it's been good to get back to work. Sitting down at the first rehearsal, I found myself wondering, how long? How long has it been since I got to sit down with a group of actors and just work on a text?
I've been busy, sure -- busy talking to venues, drawing up contracts, putting together rehearsal schedules, figuring out budgets, talking on the phone and answering e-mails. I'm working on enough shows now that keeping them organized and running smoothly is a full-time job. But I'm still so frustrated by that old irony -- I self-produce to keep my scripts onstage and in development, but production means that I don't have time to *write* anymore. Actually working on a show is the smallest part of getting it in front of people, and that balance between business and actually having energy to be passionate about what I'm working on is a hard, hard, hard one to strike.
In any case, we're performing as part of Cheap Theatre's monthly spoken-word showcase this Saturday. Theme of the evening is "Ghost," and we'll be doing a reading from Broceliande, which comprised half of our 2005 Fringe outing, Camelot is Crumbling. It's my favorite script that I've written, and by far the most polarizing production. I really got the full gamut of responses on this one -- everything from active anger and confusion (the vast bulk), to condescending "What a cute experimental phase you're going through now" (frustratingly many), to those who hailed the production as "intensely compelling" and "inventively done" (few and far between).
The overall failure of the production was a hard blow, however, mainly because I remain such a strong believer in the text. This is the one that I pull out when people ask to see my work, if only because I feel like I need some fucking *closure* on it. Even now, I'm not sure what to do with it -- if it works better as almost entirely spoken word or if it needs to be movement-heavy -- if the staging is too surreal or not surreal enough.
The problem, ultimately, is that the script is *difficult*. It's expressionistic, it's non-linear, it's a great big ball of words and images that's hung on a structure that's almost entirely opaque. And it's as much a problem to find the right audience for it as it is to find the right way to stage it.
Whatever the case, its latest incarnation -- however brief -- will be taking place at the Banquet Hall of the Black Forest Inn, this Saturday, October 20th, at 7:30pm. Ticket price is $12.00, and that includes a beverage. Other artists on the bill include Alex Bernstein, Joe Delorme, Paula Reed Nancarrow, Sandy Thomas, and Erica Christ. Come check us out, and lemme know what you think.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Notes from Canada Journal
(I am riding in a car with my sister TORI, being driven by my cousin PIP. Another car cuts us off in traffic.)
TORI: Wow, that guy's a jerk!
ME: Hey, you don't know what that guy's story is. For all we know, like, his baby could be dying or something. He'd be a real fucking tragic figure then, huh? And wouldn't you feel bad?
(pause)
PIP: Well, he'd still be jerk. He'd just be a jerk with a dead baby.
---
So my uncle tells my brother-in-law and I to hop into the van. The new guy looks at me expectantly, and I have to rapidly weigh a number of factors to determine who gets the front seat: on the one hand, I'm an eldest son; on the other hand, he's older than I am; on the other hand, I'm a blood relation; on the other hand (this is now apparently some kind of Hindu god doing the counting) he's married to my elder sister.
Not that the decision really matters -- and the bulk of the problem here is my own paranoia. But the fact that I'm thinking in these terms at all indicated that I'm currently in Canada, and it's the first time I've visited my relatives since performing the show. It somehow failed to occur to me that having produced a script about them (to fairly glowing reviews) would constitute Big News amidst my family. Matt Everett's musings about my relationship with my father have apparently made the rounds, and
eeeagh. May I take a moment to freak the fuck out about this, please? The vast array of taboos I've broken? All the angst and the anger and the profanity? Dear God, have they found my blogs? Exactly how much of my personal life is public knowledge?
Okay, I'm done now.
But being with my family again is a vaguely bizarre experience. After all, they're characters now, having provided any number of key emotional moments or lines of dialogue. I find it strange, how close I feel to them; but then I think, oh. Duh. I spent my summer on the road with them, having taken them to every performance with me.
This has changed my relationship with them in some subtle way I can't quite articulate. But I had to place them within the confines of a very artificial construct in order for that to take place, and I can't help wondering whether or not that's healthy.
TORI: Wow, that guy's a jerk!
ME: Hey, you don't know what that guy's story is. For all we know, like, his baby could be dying or something. He'd be a real fucking tragic figure then, huh? And wouldn't you feel bad?
(pause)
PIP: Well, he'd still be jerk. He'd just be a jerk with a dead baby.
---
So my uncle tells my brother-in-law and I to hop into the van. The new guy looks at me expectantly, and I have to rapidly weigh a number of factors to determine who gets the front seat: on the one hand, I'm an eldest son; on the other hand, he's older than I am; on the other hand, I'm a blood relation; on the other hand (this is now apparently some kind of Hindu god doing the counting) he's married to my elder sister.
Not that the decision really matters -- and the bulk of the problem here is my own paranoia. But the fact that I'm thinking in these terms at all indicated that I'm currently in Canada, and it's the first time I've visited my relatives since performing the show. It somehow failed to occur to me that having produced a script about them (to fairly glowing reviews) would constitute Big News amidst my family. Matt Everett's musings about my relationship with my father have apparently made the rounds, and
eeeagh. May I take a moment to freak the fuck out about this, please? The vast array of taboos I've broken? All the angst and the anger and the profanity? Dear God, have they found my blogs? Exactly how much of my personal life is public knowledge?
Okay, I'm done now.
But being with my family again is a vaguely bizarre experience. After all, they're characters now, having provided any number of key emotional moments or lines of dialogue. I find it strange, how close I feel to them; but then I think, oh. Duh. I spent my summer on the road with them, having taken them to every performance with me.
This has changed my relationship with them in some subtle way I can't quite articulate. But I had to place them within the confines of a very artificial construct in order for that to take place, and I can't help wondering whether or not that's healthy.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Late Reviews and Another Thought
Two more reviews of the show have popped up, one from Fringe blogger Caitlin Gilmet:
"I bow to Phillip, who has truly come into his own over the last few years. Not only is he probably the best writer I saw all Fringe, he's also found his own voice in performance (I saw his third in a single day), an energy and a humor that make him an undeniable talent. You can see what those summers of Fringing hard, attending shows and taking notes, have brought to his work: Phillip is a student of writers and performers who has synthesized those lessons into his own form of mastery. There's a Yiddish saying (Tsu vos men iz gevoynt in der yugnt, azoy tut men oyf der elter): That which is practiced in youth will be pursued in old age. I can hardly wait to see what Phillip will be up to in coming years."
Plus another long, thoughful essay from Matt Everett, which I won't reprint here, but I do want to talk about one passage:
"The interesting thing about this family portrait is that it is neither angry nor self-pitying - both of which I was very grateful for as an audience member. There is no tortured ranting or weeping. There is no sentimental reconciliation. There is only the awkward relationship between a father and a son who have everything and nothing in common. Phillip never recounts a scene in which they both say they love each other, but he doesn’t need to. You can sense it in the way the artist paints a verbal portrait of his father...it’s a mystery story that satisfies because it is about more than the nuts and bolts of solving a puzzle. It’s a family story that doesn’t shy away from the difficult moments, but also doesn’t dissolve into sentimentality."
The reason I want to look more closely at this is because this is a sentiment that was articulated to me on a number of different occasions -- that the show was such a refreshing change from the countless "woe-is-me" self-pity-fests that take over the Festival. But that's exactly what my show is. In fact, self-deprecating humor has been my schtick for nearly five years now -- my stage persona is that of many comedians, that kind of nebbishy, miserable, hand-wringing buffoon. So why do people react the way they do?
I see a lot of soul-searching autobiographical solo shows. Some are compelling. Most are dreadful. What's the difference? I think what it boils down to, for me, is the self-awareness of the performer. The underlying dynamic of my characters is not "I have such a miserable life, but I can joke about it, so it's a kind of triumph" -- the joke is that my characters' unhappiness is totally irrational. The fact that Penner is desperately miserable, in spite of the countless blessings in his life, is the very thing that makes him the object of ridicule.
This is another respect in which I wonder if my work isn't an extension of my spiritual thinking. So much of Eastern thought revolves around the necessity of transcending the self -- recognizing that one's identity is a conscious construction, and one in which we construct our own suffering more often than not. To choose to be unhappy in the face of a life full of blessings is the ultimate absurdity, and that's one of the things I find myself joking about more often than not.
Not that my awareness of this stops me from being desperately unhappy about many aspects of my own life. But at least I recognize how ludicrous it is.
"I bow to Phillip, who has truly come into his own over the last few years. Not only is he probably the best writer I saw all Fringe, he's also found his own voice in performance (I saw his third in a single day), an energy and a humor that make him an undeniable talent. You can see what those summers of Fringing hard, attending shows and taking notes, have brought to his work: Phillip is a student of writers and performers who has synthesized those lessons into his own form of mastery. There's a Yiddish saying (Tsu vos men iz gevoynt in der yugnt, azoy tut men oyf der elter): That which is practiced in youth will be pursued in old age. I can hardly wait to see what Phillip will be up to in coming years."
Plus another long, thoughful essay from Matt Everett, which I won't reprint here, but I do want to talk about one passage:
"The interesting thing about this family portrait is that it is neither angry nor self-pitying - both of which I was very grateful for as an audience member. There is no tortured ranting or weeping. There is no sentimental reconciliation. There is only the awkward relationship between a father and a son who have everything and nothing in common. Phillip never recounts a scene in which they both say they love each other, but he doesn’t need to. You can sense it in the way the artist paints a verbal portrait of his father...it’s a mystery story that satisfies because it is about more than the nuts and bolts of solving a puzzle. It’s a family story that doesn’t shy away from the difficult moments, but also doesn’t dissolve into sentimentality."
The reason I want to look more closely at this is because this is a sentiment that was articulated to me on a number of different occasions -- that the show was such a refreshing change from the countless "woe-is-me" self-pity-fests that take over the Festival. But that's exactly what my show is. In fact, self-deprecating humor has been my schtick for nearly five years now -- my stage persona is that of many comedians, that kind of nebbishy, miserable, hand-wringing buffoon. So why do people react the way they do?
I see a lot of soul-searching autobiographical solo shows. Some are compelling. Most are dreadful. What's the difference? I think what it boils down to, for me, is the self-awareness of the performer. The underlying dynamic of my characters is not "I have such a miserable life, but I can joke about it, so it's a kind of triumph" -- the joke is that my characters' unhappiness is totally irrational. The fact that Penner is desperately miserable, in spite of the countless blessings in his life, is the very thing that makes him the object of ridicule.
This is another respect in which I wonder if my work isn't an extension of my spiritual thinking. So much of Eastern thought revolves around the necessity of transcending the self -- recognizing that one's identity is a conscious construction, and one in which we construct our own suffering more often than not. To choose to be unhappy in the face of a life full of blessings is the ultimate absurdity, and that's one of the things I find myself joking about more often than not.
Not that my awareness of this stops me from being desperately unhappy about many aspects of my own life. But at least I recognize how ludicrous it is.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Music Stands
Matthew Everett posted the follow comment as part of a review on his Fringe blog:
"Just a quick side note about music stands. Laura and Curt perform their stories with the words on sheets of paper in front of them, on music stands, to which they occasionally refer - as many spoken word performers do. This seems to bewilder some people. 'Didn’t they bother to memorize their lines? Isn’t this theater?' Well, to be simplistic about it, no and no. This isn’t the kind of theater where the actors are pretending to be somebody else whose thoughts spring from their mind and out of their mouth as if the playwright didn’t exist. There is no fourth wall. There is no alternate reality. The words are the point. The words need to be in front of them, not as a crutch, but as a reminder to the audience that this is about the crafting of language on a page. This is telling you a story. This isn’t just rambling on randomly the first thing that comes into their head. This isn’t fiction. This is their way of processing moments in their lives, culling them for universality, and then opening them up for other people to experience. I’m not a spoken word performer. But having seen a number of spoken word offerings at the Fringe, this strikes me as being part of what it’s about. So, please, get over the music stands. The music stands are the point. They’re supposed to be there."
I was aware that there was a divide in thinking about this issue; but it wasn't until I performed my first storytelling show that I realized what a source of controversy it is in certain circles.
For my part, I'm very much in agreement with Matt here -- the point of my performance is the language itself. I actually did several rehearsals off-book, only to discover that I actively disliked the results: not because it was more work for me, but because I felt that it shifted the focus of the audience away from what I was saying and onto what I was doing. The presence of the music stand on stage, even if I barely use it, both physically anchors me and insures the primacy of the written word.
(That said, there were certainly points, particularly early on in the run when I was still feeling my way around the material, when I was relying entirely too much on the stand -- hiding behind it, rather than communicating more directly with my audience. I do think I'm working my way past that issue, however.)
But -- to invoke the phrase that seems to be becoming my anthem in my various blogs -- I think it goes *deeper* than that.
I'm not a great actor. People often chuckle and shake their heads when I say that, thinking that I'm being self-deprecating, but I'm really not: I've seen great actors, I've worked alongside great actors, and I've spent enough time in their company to recognize that I'm not among their number. I don't have the chameleon-like versatility of a Steven Epp or a Charlie Bethel. I don't think that I'm necessarily a bad actor, but I am a limited one: I'm a specialty act, and if people enjoy my performances it's at least partly because I'm very conscious of what my limitations are.
I listen to books-on-tape, and my observation is that the worst readers I've ever heard are actors. They don't know how to *trust* a text: they feel a need to embody the characters, create "voices" for them, and ham up their punchlines in a way that ends up being distracting, obnoxious, frequently untintentionally hilarious.
Allegra Lingo is a skilled performer precisely because she *doesn't* feel the need to do that: when she describes conversations, she simply reads them to us, without needing to come up with a walk, a voice, a contrived cast of characters. Her words tell the story for us: that's what gives her her approachability. (Theatricality, of course, has other virtues -- that's the trade-off that you have to weigh in rehearsal.)
Keeping the music stand there is largely psychological, both for the audience and myself. It reminds us that that I'm sharing a story, reliving it through word rather than action. Sometimes that's the right choice; sometimes it's the wrong one -- depends on the nature of the show that you're doing. But I do think that we tend to get excessively dogmatic about this is "supposed" to be done. As far as I'm concerned, the only real rule to this little game of ours is whether we're successfully entertaining you -- and if we are, do the trappings really matter?
"Just a quick side note about music stands. Laura and Curt perform their stories with the words on sheets of paper in front of them, on music stands, to which they occasionally refer - as many spoken word performers do. This seems to bewilder some people. 'Didn’t they bother to memorize their lines? Isn’t this theater?' Well, to be simplistic about it, no and no. This isn’t the kind of theater where the actors are pretending to be somebody else whose thoughts spring from their mind and out of their mouth as if the playwright didn’t exist. There is no fourth wall. There is no alternate reality. The words are the point. The words need to be in front of them, not as a crutch, but as a reminder to the audience that this is about the crafting of language on a page. This is telling you a story. This isn’t just rambling on randomly the first thing that comes into their head. This isn’t fiction. This is their way of processing moments in their lives, culling them for universality, and then opening them up for other people to experience. I’m not a spoken word performer. But having seen a number of spoken word offerings at the Fringe, this strikes me as being part of what it’s about. So, please, get over the music stands. The music stands are the point. They’re supposed to be there."
I was aware that there was a divide in thinking about this issue; but it wasn't until I performed my first storytelling show that I realized what a source of controversy it is in certain circles.
For my part, I'm very much in agreement with Matt here -- the point of my performance is the language itself. I actually did several rehearsals off-book, only to discover that I actively disliked the results: not because it was more work for me, but because I felt that it shifted the focus of the audience away from what I was saying and onto what I was doing. The presence of the music stand on stage, even if I barely use it, both physically anchors me and insures the primacy of the written word.
(That said, there were certainly points, particularly early on in the run when I was still feeling my way around the material, when I was relying entirely too much on the stand -- hiding behind it, rather than communicating more directly with my audience. I do think I'm working my way past that issue, however.)
But -- to invoke the phrase that seems to be becoming my anthem in my various blogs -- I think it goes *deeper* than that.
I'm not a great actor. People often chuckle and shake their heads when I say that, thinking that I'm being self-deprecating, but I'm really not: I've seen great actors, I've worked alongside great actors, and I've spent enough time in their company to recognize that I'm not among their number. I don't have the chameleon-like versatility of a Steven Epp or a Charlie Bethel. I don't think that I'm necessarily a bad actor, but I am a limited one: I'm a specialty act, and if people enjoy my performances it's at least partly because I'm very conscious of what my limitations are.
I listen to books-on-tape, and my observation is that the worst readers I've ever heard are actors. They don't know how to *trust* a text: they feel a need to embody the characters, create "voices" for them, and ham up their punchlines in a way that ends up being distracting, obnoxious, frequently untintentionally hilarious.
Allegra Lingo is a skilled performer precisely because she *doesn't* feel the need to do that: when she describes conversations, she simply reads them to us, without needing to come up with a walk, a voice, a contrived cast of characters. Her words tell the story for us: that's what gives her her approachability. (Theatricality, of course, has other virtues -- that's the trade-off that you have to weigh in rehearsal.)
Keeping the music stand there is largely psychological, both for the audience and myself. It reminds us that that I'm sharing a story, reliving it through word rather than action. Sometimes that's the right choice; sometimes it's the wrong one -- depends on the nature of the show that you're doing. But I do think that we tend to get excessively dogmatic about this is "supposed" to be done. As far as I'm concerned, the only real rule to this little game of ours is whether we're successfully entertaining you -- and if we are, do the trappings really matter?
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Descendant of Dragons: Reviews and Reflections
Fringe blogger Matthew Everett gave the show a five-star rating, placing it in his "Life-Altering Experience" category.
Fringe blogger Kate Hoff: "We caught the opening of fellow blogger Phillip Low's Descendant of Dragons at Patrick's Cabaret. We've got lots of solo storytellers on the lineup this year. And they all rock. Phillip's story about traveling to the ends of the earth to map his family tree is engaging and funny, with a little Da Vinci Code thrown in. Very highly recommended. Phillip still has four performances left! There's no excuse to miss this show. 90th percentile." She also put the show on her "Favorite Favorites" list -- her top six shows of the entire Festival.
Fringe blogger Ben Sandell: "Ah, fellow blogger Phillip Low putting on a one-man show. Another conflict of interest, but who cares? I’ve already plugged blogger John Munger’s show. I’ll certainly be there when this Maximum Verbosity veteran and playwright delivers his first non-fiction performance. I mean, how can I resist a show that features “a globetrotting adventure (in the spirit of Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad) [that] pits a cranky libertarian detective against the world's greatest Communist bureaucracy”? Plus, the show contains “copious bilingual profanity.” I am so there." Also put the show on his pre-Fringe Top 18 Most Anticipated Shows.
Arizona comedian Bill Bernat (of Crackhead Whoremonger Nerd Comedian): "Nicely woven story. Very personal. You could really see Phillip getting angry, hurt, moved, etc., at points and this was very powerful for me as an audience member. A lot of great laughs, too. As someone who has had to fight for my artistic priorities to the chagrin of an overachieving parent, I especially appreciated the Dad relationship stuff."
Playwright Bill Stiteler (of the Council of Doom Theatre Co.): "Energetic, emotional, and at times angry, Low takes the audience on a journey to try and capture what remains of his family's history before it slips away. It's made all the more frustrating by his family's refusal to talk about past events and the way that modern adults nonetheless slip into traditional roles and attitudes when it comes to (capital F) Family. Low's performance took off from the first word."
Actor Andrew Haynes (of our own Maximum Verbosity): "phil low has flawlessly captured his own voice and excitement in a one-man show that soars leagues above the common, self-serving drivel that seems to pepper the majority of up-and-coming performers. He makes his story not only accessible to the audience, but meaningful and enlightening. Not to mention the laffs. Descendant of Dragons is, I don't want to say 'brilliant,' but... how about genius? Okay, and also brilliant. An hour has never felt so short."
Other audience reviews:
"Paints a convincing picture. Strong writing, OK story-telling. The writer bravely powered through the his touching personal tales and withering heat."
"To be honest, the first five to ten minutes I was struggling with the blazing heat, so it was a little difficult to stay focused on what was being said. But as the show went on, I got more into the show, and forgot about the fact that sweat was pouring off my face and that the fans in the theatre were not sufficient cooling mechanisms. Phillip's story to define his ancestry was very passionate and touching. And humorous. (I only wish he'd been off-book) And I was inspired to write my own Fringe show. Not bad for a day's work."
"Low gave the audience a jam-packed script and an engaging performance, and I was very happy to conclude my 2007 Fringe with his Encore show. My only suggestion: to consider reducing the scope of the piece and addressing fewer components, but with more emotional depth. This is rich stuff. If it were presented only as a travelogue, it would be one thing, but Low touched upon some issues of great poignancy while -- it seemed to me -- still "holding back." For example, just the Fiji leg of the experience would provide enough material for one monologue right there. While I'm sure it's tempting to want to chronicle the entire geneology experience in one monologue, sometimes less can be more."
"Phillip Low takes us on a journey that is personal, cultural, historical, and political. His task of writing a family history starts with high ideals (sources must be confirmed!), but runs into obstinate family, and a government bound to erase focus on the individual. Despite all odds, and somewhat by chance, a document has been preserved and is recorded, but there is no confirmation available, and one is left with what one believes; where one puts his/her faith. (Okay, he kept it more "me" personal, but this is theater not therapy, so I'm going with the above.) The writing is outstanding, and the performance engaging, despite the massive scare I had upon entering (there was a script stand and they give me the willies, but Mr. Low performed his show using the script as a reference instead of reading it, and making eye contact only with the page). 'Descendants' was good enough that I abandoned my plan to ride over to the Kenny G encore; I was tired (25 shows despite working the first 9 days of the festival) and I was going out with a winner. As I pedaled back to the correct side of the river and saw the fantastic sunset behind Minneapolis, it seemed both the perfect curtain to Fringe 2007, and reminder that there is a world beyond the stage. At least until next August!"
Average audience review is four and half stars out of five. The show was also selected for a special Encore performance as the best-selling show in my venue, out of eleven productions total. I can safely say that this makes this particular show the most successful thing I've ever done. I wouldn't quite characterize it as a Fringe hit -- I didn't sell out any of my performances, although I came pretty damn close -- but it was definitely one that people were talking about: "You've got to catch this show before the Festival closes!"
So how do I feel about the experience? On one level, euphoric -- we've certainly come a long way from three-person crowds and sneering audience reviews, and I hope I can find a way to spin out this audience enthusiasm into our other shows. On one level, baffled -- that I've devoted so much energy to more complex, difficult ensemble pieces, and the one that's successful entails me standing on stage and talking for an hour. On some level, resentful -- that the expressionistic fantasy that's closest to my heart is less engaging to people than something so literal. On some level, guilty -- for having such a mixed response to being handed such a gift. But mostly? Relieved -- relieved that I can still walk onto a stage and hold an audience's attention, without an ensemble, without props, armed with nothing but words. Reassuring myself that I've earned a place in this community, not as a critic, but as an artist.
It's amusing to me how easy it is to become pigeonholed in this community -- I produce one political sketch comedy, and suddenly I'm a satirist, in with the Liberal Media Elite crowd. I write one mime show, and suddenly I'm working alongside Dean Hatton. Now, after a grand total of one storytelling show, people are talking to me like I'm a storyteller -- and that includes members of the local storytelling community, too. Bizarre, but awesome -- and I'm looking forward to doing more work within this genre.
What have I learned? Watching other proficient storytellers like Allegra Lingo and Nancy Donoval, what strikes me is how well-structured their stories are -- both within their individuals stories and within the arc of the show as a whole. My show doesn't hang together nearly as well as either of theirs -- like most of my shows, this one is a sprawling epic, loaded down with dozens of ideas and themes. Which is an effect that I like, and that I strive for -- but I believe that that same effect can be achieved in a more focused way.
People commented a lot on the physicality of my performance, and that's very much something that evolved over the course of the Iowa and Minnesota runs -- initially, I was standing at a podium and reading -- but by the final show, I wasn't simply gesturing, it was *choreographed*, points at which I walk away, clap my hands, leap, pose, react. I suppose years of mime training isn't something that you can simply walk away from.
People also commented on the podium (yeah, yeah, people never comment on it when Allegra Lingo and Mike Fotis use it, grumble, grumble) -- and while I certainly don't regret using it (much of the function of this run was to, y'know, write the show), I'll certainly consider both memorizing and hiring a director to shape the visual aspects of the performance if I undertake any kind of large-scale remount.
But we're off to start plunging into the next project -- something that I'd rather not talk about until I manage to get some specific details pinned down. But in the meantime, watch this space -- and keep your eyes on the month of January, enh?
Fringe blogger Kate Hoff: "We caught the opening of fellow blogger Phillip Low's Descendant of Dragons at Patrick's Cabaret. We've got lots of solo storytellers on the lineup this year. And they all rock. Phillip's story about traveling to the ends of the earth to map his family tree is engaging and funny, with a little Da Vinci Code thrown in. Very highly recommended. Phillip still has four performances left! There's no excuse to miss this show. 90th percentile." She also put the show on her "Favorite Favorites" list -- her top six shows of the entire Festival.
Fringe blogger Ben Sandell: "Ah, fellow blogger Phillip Low putting on a one-man show. Another conflict of interest, but who cares? I’ve already plugged blogger John Munger’s show. I’ll certainly be there when this Maximum Verbosity veteran and playwright delivers his first non-fiction performance. I mean, how can I resist a show that features “a globetrotting adventure (in the spirit of Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad) [that] pits a cranky libertarian detective against the world's greatest Communist bureaucracy”? Plus, the show contains “copious bilingual profanity.” I am so there." Also put the show on his pre-Fringe Top 18 Most Anticipated Shows.
Arizona comedian Bill Bernat (of Crackhead Whoremonger Nerd Comedian): "Nicely woven story. Very personal. You could really see Phillip getting angry, hurt, moved, etc., at points and this was very powerful for me as an audience member. A lot of great laughs, too. As someone who has had to fight for my artistic priorities to the chagrin of an overachieving parent, I especially appreciated the Dad relationship stuff."
Playwright Bill Stiteler (of the Council of Doom Theatre Co.): "Energetic, emotional, and at times angry, Low takes the audience on a journey to try and capture what remains of his family's history before it slips away. It's made all the more frustrating by his family's refusal to talk about past events and the way that modern adults nonetheless slip into traditional roles and attitudes when it comes to (capital F) Family. Low's performance took off from the first word."
Actor Andrew Haynes (of our own Maximum Verbosity): "phil low has flawlessly captured his own voice and excitement in a one-man show that soars leagues above the common, self-serving drivel that seems to pepper the majority of up-and-coming performers. He makes his story not only accessible to the audience, but meaningful and enlightening. Not to mention the laffs. Descendant of Dragons is, I don't want to say 'brilliant,' but... how about genius? Okay, and also brilliant. An hour has never felt so short."
Other audience reviews:
"Paints a convincing picture. Strong writing, OK story-telling. The writer bravely powered through the his touching personal tales and withering heat."
"To be honest, the first five to ten minutes I was struggling with the blazing heat, so it was a little difficult to stay focused on what was being said. But as the show went on, I got more into the show, and forgot about the fact that sweat was pouring off my face and that the fans in the theatre were not sufficient cooling mechanisms. Phillip's story to define his ancestry was very passionate and touching. And humorous. (I only wish he'd been off-book) And I was inspired to write my own Fringe show. Not bad for a day's work."
"Low gave the audience a jam-packed script and an engaging performance, and I was very happy to conclude my 2007 Fringe with his Encore show. My only suggestion: to consider reducing the scope of the piece and addressing fewer components, but with more emotional depth. This is rich stuff. If it were presented only as a travelogue, it would be one thing, but Low touched upon some issues of great poignancy while -- it seemed to me -- still "holding back." For example, just the Fiji leg of the experience would provide enough material for one monologue right there. While I'm sure it's tempting to want to chronicle the entire geneology experience in one monologue, sometimes less can be more."
"Phillip Low takes us on a journey that is personal, cultural, historical, and political. His task of writing a family history starts with high ideals (sources must be confirmed!), but runs into obstinate family, and a government bound to erase focus on the individual. Despite all odds, and somewhat by chance, a document has been preserved and is recorded, but there is no confirmation available, and one is left with what one believes; where one puts his/her faith. (Okay, he kept it more "me" personal, but this is theater not therapy, so I'm going with the above.) The writing is outstanding, and the performance engaging, despite the massive scare I had upon entering (there was a script stand and they give me the willies, but Mr. Low performed his show using the script as a reference instead of reading it, and making eye contact only with the page). 'Descendants' was good enough that I abandoned my plan to ride over to the Kenny G encore; I was tired (25 shows despite working the first 9 days of the festival) and I was going out with a winner. As I pedaled back to the correct side of the river and saw the fantastic sunset behind Minneapolis, it seemed both the perfect curtain to Fringe 2007, and reminder that there is a world beyond the stage. At least until next August!"
Average audience review is four and half stars out of five. The show was also selected for a special Encore performance as the best-selling show in my venue, out of eleven productions total. I can safely say that this makes this particular show the most successful thing I've ever done. I wouldn't quite characterize it as a Fringe hit -- I didn't sell out any of my performances, although I came pretty damn close -- but it was definitely one that people were talking about: "You've got to catch this show before the Festival closes!"
So how do I feel about the experience? On one level, euphoric -- we've certainly come a long way from three-person crowds and sneering audience reviews, and I hope I can find a way to spin out this audience enthusiasm into our other shows. On one level, baffled -- that I've devoted so much energy to more complex, difficult ensemble pieces, and the one that's successful entails me standing on stage and talking for an hour. On some level, resentful -- that the expressionistic fantasy that's closest to my heart is less engaging to people than something so literal. On some level, guilty -- for having such a mixed response to being handed such a gift. But mostly? Relieved -- relieved that I can still walk onto a stage and hold an audience's attention, without an ensemble, without props, armed with nothing but words. Reassuring myself that I've earned a place in this community, not as a critic, but as an artist.
It's amusing to me how easy it is to become pigeonholed in this community -- I produce one political sketch comedy, and suddenly I'm a satirist, in with the Liberal Media Elite crowd. I write one mime show, and suddenly I'm working alongside Dean Hatton. Now, after a grand total of one storytelling show, people are talking to me like I'm a storyteller -- and that includes members of the local storytelling community, too. Bizarre, but awesome -- and I'm looking forward to doing more work within this genre.
What have I learned? Watching other proficient storytellers like Allegra Lingo and Nancy Donoval, what strikes me is how well-structured their stories are -- both within their individuals stories and within the arc of the show as a whole. My show doesn't hang together nearly as well as either of theirs -- like most of my shows, this one is a sprawling epic, loaded down with dozens of ideas and themes. Which is an effect that I like, and that I strive for -- but I believe that that same effect can be achieved in a more focused way.
People commented a lot on the physicality of my performance, and that's very much something that evolved over the course of the Iowa and Minnesota runs -- initially, I was standing at a podium and reading -- but by the final show, I wasn't simply gesturing, it was *choreographed*, points at which I walk away, clap my hands, leap, pose, react. I suppose years of mime training isn't something that you can simply walk away from.
People also commented on the podium (yeah, yeah, people never comment on it when Allegra Lingo and Mike Fotis use it, grumble, grumble) -- and while I certainly don't regret using it (much of the function of this run was to, y'know, write the show), I'll certainly consider both memorizing and hiring a director to shape the visual aspects of the performance if I undertake any kind of large-scale remount.
But we're off to start plunging into the next project -- something that I'd rather not talk about until I manage to get some specific details pinned down. But in the meantime, watch this space -- and keep your eyes on the month of January, enh?
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Opening Tomorrow!
Just a reminder that "Descendant of Dragons" will be opening tomorrow night, 8:30pm, at Patrick's Cabaret. Show only runs for one weekend, so I don't have the advantage of word-of-mouth -- I can use all the support I can get!
Pleased to note that the show has now ended up on the Top Picks list of no less than three Fringe bloggers:
Matthew Everett: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=4&id=2406
"This ain't your granddaddy's travelogue/family history solo outing. Half the fun of watching Phillip at work is the way he rides the torrent of words that come out of his mouth. The other half is the dazzling flurry of ideas that ride on the back of those words - funny, obscene, irreverent, sacreligious, furious, hilarious."
Kate Hoff: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=3&id=2512
"I was so happy to love Phillip's preview at the Ritz...I am confidently recommending this show to everybody. You will not be disappointed."
Ben Sandell: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=29&id=2541
"I’ll certainly be there when this Maximum Verbosity veteran and playwright delivers his first non-fiction performance. I mean, how can I resist a show that features 'a globetrotting adventure (in the spirit of Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad) [that] pits a cranky libertarian detective against the world's greatest Communist bureaucracy'? Plus, the show contains 'copious bilingual profanity.' I am so there."
Can I deliver? Three people can't possibly be wrong. I'll see you opening night.
Pleased to note that the show has now ended up on the Top Picks list of no less than three Fringe bloggers:
Matthew Everett: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=4&id=2406
"This ain't your granddaddy's travelogue/family history solo outing. Half the fun of watching Phillip at work is the way he rides the torrent of words that come out of his mouth. The other half is the dazzling flurry of ideas that ride on the back of those words - funny, obscene, irreverent, sacreligious, furious, hilarious."
Kate Hoff: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=3&id=2512
"I was so happy to love Phillip's preview at the Ritz...I am confidently recommending this show to everybody. You will not be disappointed."
Ben Sandell: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=29&id=2541
"I’ll certainly be there when this Maximum Verbosity veteran and playwright delivers his first non-fiction performance. I mean, how can I resist a show that features 'a globetrotting adventure (in the spirit of Mark Twain's The Innocents Abroad) [that] pits a cranky libertarian detective against the world's greatest Communist bureaucracy'? Plus, the show contains 'copious bilingual profanity.' I am so there."
Can I deliver? Three people can't possibly be wrong. I'll see you opening night.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Minnesota Fringe approaching!
First things first -- Matt Everett, Fringe blogger extraordinaire, has placed Maximum Verbosity at #2 on his top ten list this year. That's out of 163 shows. Woo-hoo! He's been kind enough to do a write-up on us -- the first half is a kind of retrospective of our first four years (can you believe we've been around that long?), the second half a somewhat cranky interview with me about the new show. Worth checking out, if only for the trip down memory lane: http://www.fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=4&id=2406
Second things second, the Asian-American Press has done a write-up about the show, complete with a (rather snarky) interview with me about the Asian-American community in the Twin Cities. Also available online, this time at http://aapress.com/index.php?subaction=showfull&id=1185766871&archive=&start_from=&ucat=6&.
I've also just returned from touring in the Iowa Fringe. There's a clip of me previewing the show with some comedy for their "Fringe Frenzy" in a local coffee shop at http://www.iowafringe.com/videos. The audience reviews were unanimously glowing:
"phillip low is a straight-up (fantastic) storyteller. Okay, he’s also a slam poet, an actor, and affectionate entertainer. I thoroughly enjoyed his Descendant of Dragons. It’s a journey you should take with him."
"Excellent show, engaging story. He’s physically and verbally charismatic and unafraid to be vulnerable and genuine with the audience. Best of the Fringe for me so far."
"A great story, well written and well told. I enjoyed this best of all I’ve seen, so far."
For my own thoughts on the experience, I've been writing at the Maximum Verbosity Production Blog (http://maximumverbosityonline.blogspot.com). Check out my promotional sonnet!
Speaking of blogging, for those interested in some, er, DVD bonus features, so to speak -- the show being a travelogue, much of it has been collected from my travel writing. You can read early drafts of some pieces that ended up in the show -- and several that were cut -- at the following links:
http://fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=23&id=1974
http://fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=23&id=1975
http://libertarianrage.blogspot.com/2006/12/notes-from-china-journal.html
http://libertarianrage.blogspot.com/2006/12/more-notes-from-china-journal.html
Want to help me out? I'd like to get the show videotaped, as well. Since this is a storytelling show, and pretty much the least physical thing I've ever done, left to my own devices I'll probably just set up a home video camera on a tripod and hit "Record," much like the infamous Star Wars kid (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQibs3albtM). If anybody out there would be willing to undertake anything more ambitious than that, I'd be happy to offer a small stipend for the service.
Fringe Festival starts in two days -- and I open in barely a week! Eeeagh!
Second things second, the Asian-American Press has done a write-up about the show, complete with a (rather snarky) interview with me about the Asian-American community in the Twin Cities. Also available online, this time at http://aapress.com/index.php?subaction=showfull&id=1185766871&archive=&start_from=&ucat=6&.
I've also just returned from touring in the Iowa Fringe. There's a clip of me previewing the show with some comedy for their "Fringe Frenzy" in a local coffee shop at http://www.iowafringe.com/videos. The audience reviews were unanimously glowing:
"phillip low is a straight-up (fantastic) storyteller. Okay, he’s also a slam poet, an actor, and affectionate entertainer. I thoroughly enjoyed his Descendant of Dragons. It’s a journey you should take with him."
"Excellent show, engaging story. He’s physically and verbally charismatic and unafraid to be vulnerable and genuine with the audience. Best of the Fringe for me so far."
"A great story, well written and well told. I enjoyed this best of all I’ve seen, so far."
For my own thoughts on the experience, I've been writing at the Maximum Verbosity Production Blog (http://maximumverbosityonline.blogspot.com). Check out my promotional sonnet!
Speaking of blogging, for those interested in some, er, DVD bonus features, so to speak -- the show being a travelogue, much of it has been collected from my travel writing. You can read early drafts of some pieces that ended up in the show -- and several that were cut -- at the following links:
http://fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=23&id=1974
http://fringefestival.org/blg_showPost.cfm?blogID=23&id=1975
http://libertarianrage.blogspot.com/2006/12/notes-from-china-journal.html
http://libertarianrage.blogspot.com/2006/12/more-notes-from-china-journal.html
Want to help me out? I'd like to get the show videotaped, as well. Since this is a storytelling show, and pretty much the least physical thing I've ever done, left to my own devices I'll probably just set up a home video camera on a tripod and hit "Record," much like the infamous Star Wars kid (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQibs3albtM). If anybody out there would be willing to undertake anything more ambitious than that, I'd be happy to offer a small stipend for the service.
Fringe Festival starts in two days -- and I open in barely a week! Eeeagh!
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