It seems like I’m consistently posting twice a year. It’s challenging to post things on this blog that are worthy of sharing, because sometimes the words that come out feel more like journal entries than they do work-related updates. I am trying to be more specific about defining what work/personal life boundaries look like. Bear with me as I explore and find a happy medium.
This past summer was as challenging as it was transformative. In ten intensive days, I trained to do a 90 minute solo show for a wonderful company called Playfair. It forced me to really put my mind and body to the test. Memorizing just over a hundred pages of text seemed impossible at first, but it proved to be within my field of competence. I then had a mini tour of it, where I facilitated the show for several different universities, getting a quick taste of each new city I visited. The tour tested my strength of mind and faith, ultimately awakening me to the magnitude of just how much I am actually capable of.
My tour ended in Portland, Maine, which was geographically perfectly aligned with the following project I had the fortunate opportunity to play and saunter in. I worked on a play by Sarah Ruhl, titled “The Clean House”, directed by the wickedly smart and insightful Cait Robinson. What a beautifully strange and funny puzzle of a play this was. Any actor will tell you, doing comedy is HARD. After weeks of telling the same jokes over and over, the funnies become stale in the rehearsal room and it feels like even the crickets in the room are embarrassed for you. THANK GOD FOR AUDIENCES. Once our previews started, glorious exchange with the audience amplified the play. The words lifted off and we knew we were on the right track. I began to find that the blueprint Ruhl gave us led us through the bizarre/confusing/magical moments if we gave way to the unknown and truly got out of the Chariot’s way. Like Matilde’s mother once said, “In order to tell a good joke, you have to believe that your problems are very small and that the world is very big.”
Matilde’s spirit is still bouncing around in my mind. Much like Matilde’s search, throughout the process of the run I found myself trying to dissect how to craft and deliver “the Perfect Joke”. Although I’ve had comedic moments in projects I’ve done in the past, this was the first time I genuinely felt like I had more than just a glimpse of a comedic spark. It felt like the comedy was tangible and it was as if I could finally begin to mold moments to help them land just right with an audience. Maybe I’m starting to discover what my comedic voice sounds like? Maybe that’s a bit ambitious to say at this point in time. Maybe it’s the post-show grief talking. All I know is that in this moment I’m hungry for more comedic experimentation. Matilde gave me the gift of other people’s laughter during a time I needed it most. I am so thankful for her track in my life and I will truly miss channeling her sharp wit, Portuguese tongue, and dirty jokes.
The next few weeks are filled with a cornucopia of blessings. I’ve got a few workshops I have the fortune of participating in, both in San Diego, CA and in NYC. I will also start rehearsals for “A kaleidoscopic new play with unlimited mileage.” It’s too good a logline, I had to share it with y’all. This adventurous play by T. Adamson, titled “The Straights”, will be directed by the innovative and endlessly inspiring Will Detlefsen. This piece will be produced at JACK in Brooklyn, with a very, very limited run in early-mid December. I’ve met a few people involved in this labor of love and adventure and they give me a really good feeling about this one. Find more information about the show and tickets here.
There’s a little more cooking that I can’t speak to quite yet, but I will do my best to update you folks who have generously subscribed to my updates as more information comes to the surface. In the meantime, know that I am honored to have your eyes and minds witnessing my journey via this blog. Thank you for your energetic patronage.