Last weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing a new(ish) musical at St. Louis Repertory Theatre (shout out to Brother Jake for hooking me up with a ticket). The show was entitled “Title of Show,” and if you haven’t seen it, I highly suggest that you do if you get the chance, especially if you’re a theatre person. It tells the story of four people trying to write a musical about themselves writing a musical, from its early stages to its off-broadway premiere, and some stuff after that. It chronicles the challenges they face in getting their show on its feet, including the hardships their friendships face and the moral and ethical ramifications that come with their project. It’s uproariously funny, wildly inventive, a little bit sad, and touching in ways I never would have expected. This might be premature, but I think I would even go so far as to say it was life-changing. Here’s why…
As I’m sure anyone who’s been reading this blog lately already knows, I’ve been in kind of a slump lately, both creatively and personally. I’ve been trying to figure a lot of things out and be more proactive. I walked into this show with all of these doubts and disappointments hanging over my head like one of those cartoon rainclouds that follows individuals around, but I walked out feeling like I could conquer the world if I felt like it. The show got me thinking about many great things, but firstly and (I think) most importantly, it gave a name to my problem: Vampires.
One character in the show defines a Vampire as “any person or thought or feeling that stands between you and your creative self expression.” Though the show sort of limits this idea of vampirism to the arts, I think it absolutely applies to life as well. I frequently have positive thoughts about my work and my future, but stupid things always get in the way and fog everything up. Now I know those stupid things have been vampires all this time. Now I know to have my stake at the ready.
Another thing in the show that really struck a chord with me was the characters’ declaration that they’d “rather be nine people’s favorite thing than a hundred people’s ninth-favorite thing.” It’s so simple I can’t believe I haven’t heard it before. This show made me realize that the only person I need to please is myself. If what I do makes someone else happy, that’s wonderful. But there are no guarantees, so why bother stressing about it? So what if someone else doesn’t like how I dress, what I make, what I like, how I think, or what I do? You can’t please everyone, so the very least you can hope for is to please the person you have to live with at all times: yourself. So what if you get a job interview but no job? Maybe you’re just not their thing. That’s okay; you can’t be everyone’s thing. They’re a vampire, anyway. Who needs a vampires? Not you. Move on and find something else.
Afer several days of reflection, I’m proud to say that I’ve started killing off my vampires. Since this show revolutionized my way of thinking, I’ve begun writing a children’s musical, I’ve subbed 3 days in a row, and I even have a job interview in a couple days. Things might not go as I hope they will, but there’s always tomorrow.
Morte, vampir morte!
Showing posts with label musicals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musicals. Show all posts
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, April 20, 2009
Decency, People!
Hello all (at this point, I don’t think anyone is actually reading any of this, but I can pretend)! I recently had the great pleasure of watching my brother in his high school production of the musical “The Scarlet Pimpernel.” Let me start by saying that despite a couple of catastrophic technical mishaps, I loved the show all three times I saw it.
And now for the downside.
The first two nights I was in attendance, the audience was very mature and respectful. But last night, I almost blew a casket. Firstly, someone brought a baby. And we’re not talking a quiet baby. A quite loud baby. It’s one thing to bring a small child into the theater when free babysitting is offered across the hall, but a baby? I can understand not wanting to leave your baby in the hands of a high school girl you don’t know, but honestly – What do you do with your baby when you go to work? I have a feeling you don’t keep him in your desk drawer all day.
But I can’t really blame the baby. At least the baby isn’t really able to control itself. I would think parents would be able to keep themselves under control, but alas, it seems that this is not the case. A family in front of me was obviously related to one of the performers, because every time he was onstage, they would whip out their phones and take videos of him, and shout “That’s my boy!” during applause. And yet this is still not the most unbelievable offense to me. At least they waited until the right moment to make noise.
Several parents were taking pictures during the performance. And not silent phone pictures. At least the phone doesn’t make noise when you press “record.” These people brought their big nice photo cameras, complete with extra-large zoom lenses. Not only do you get that initial sound of the camera beeping as it focuses, but you also get the freakishly loud sound of the shutter in action. It would have been one thing to snap a picture or two during applause when no one is really going to notice, but I guess that wasn’t enough. We have to click loudly during tender dramatic scenes and important plot points. Would you take pictures in a movie theater? I mean, it’s illegal there too, but at least you’re not going to distract Brad Pitt and ruin the moment. And it’s not like I can buy the DVD when it comes out to hear what important details I missed while your shutter was going off in my ear.
I understand that a high school play has a primarily parental audience. I understand that you’re proud of your little performer(s) and you want to remember this night forever. But I would think you would also want to refrain from distracting your kid and ruining the show. I was this close to turning and saying something between scenes, but I didn’t want to turn into “that guy.” But honestly, a part of me really wished I had telekinetic powers like Matilda so I could blow their cameras up with my mind, or that one of the actors would go all Patti LuPone on these people. I talked to Mom about it at intermission, and she said this was how it always was in the audience at our theatre. Rude.
What a sad state of affairs we’re in.
And now for the downside.
The first two nights I was in attendance, the audience was very mature and respectful. But last night, I almost blew a casket. Firstly, someone brought a baby. And we’re not talking a quiet baby. A quite loud baby. It’s one thing to bring a small child into the theater when free babysitting is offered across the hall, but a baby? I can understand not wanting to leave your baby in the hands of a high school girl you don’t know, but honestly – What do you do with your baby when you go to work? I have a feeling you don’t keep him in your desk drawer all day.
But I can’t really blame the baby. At least the baby isn’t really able to control itself. I would think parents would be able to keep themselves under control, but alas, it seems that this is not the case. A family in front of me was obviously related to one of the performers, because every time he was onstage, they would whip out their phones and take videos of him, and shout “That’s my boy!” during applause. And yet this is still not the most unbelievable offense to me. At least they waited until the right moment to make noise.
Several parents were taking pictures during the performance. And not silent phone pictures. At least the phone doesn’t make noise when you press “record.” These people brought their big nice photo cameras, complete with extra-large zoom lenses. Not only do you get that initial sound of the camera beeping as it focuses, but you also get the freakishly loud sound of the shutter in action. It would have been one thing to snap a picture or two during applause when no one is really going to notice, but I guess that wasn’t enough. We have to click loudly during tender dramatic scenes and important plot points. Would you take pictures in a movie theater? I mean, it’s illegal there too, but at least you’re not going to distract Brad Pitt and ruin the moment. And it’s not like I can buy the DVD when it comes out to hear what important details I missed while your shutter was going off in my ear.
I understand that a high school play has a primarily parental audience. I understand that you’re proud of your little performer(s) and you want to remember this night forever. But I would think you would also want to refrain from distracting your kid and ruining the show. I was this close to turning and saying something between scenes, but I didn’t want to turn into “that guy.” But honestly, a part of me really wished I had telekinetic powers like Matilda so I could blow their cameras up with my mind, or that one of the actors would go all Patti LuPone on these people. I talked to Mom about it at intermission, and she said this was how it always was in the audience at our theatre. Rude.
What a sad state of affairs we’re in.
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