I have an unhealthy obsession. Not because I think I'm a disney princess, but because I often feel like a silly, wide-eyed, big dreams, hyperbole of a human to the point of a disney animation. So, basically, this is my life. People giving me weird looks and calling me an elf because of my cheeriness and choice of clothes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KObgs81QyR4&feature=related
(I actually tried calling out to animal creatures for help cleaning this morning. I wish I were joking.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRYU4cqUAUs&feature=related
(This movie is really worth seeing--Amy Adams is brilliant. And, seriously, how much better could the cast get? Julie Andrews, Amy Adams, James Marsden, Timothy Spall, Idina Menzel, Susan Sarandon, and Patrick Dempsey)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
My Wall, Dissected
This, my friends, is a clip of my wall. I figure it's way better than wallpaper. Not that it interests you, but here are the contents of the things adorning my wall:
1. two patterns from my favorite dresses that I wear way too much
2. The cover of my favorite book: the sheet music of Songs for a New World. The copier messed up and so it only says "For a New World," but I like it that way.
3. Twyla Tharp--the old lady with her foot effortlessly (and magically) kicked up above her head.
4. The cast of spring awakening (in the center.)
5. Half of the book: It's not How Good You Are, It's how Good you want to be
6. Many ads from Vogue.
7. Midnsummer Night's Dream poster.
8. Amy Adams, Rodrigo Santoro, Anne Hathaway, Zooey Deschanel, Freddie Highmore, Julie Andrews, Abigail Breslin, and Sienna Miller.
God Bless Tuesdays: Why We Should All Be Like Woody Allen
Today has been an altogether lovely day. I woke up, turned my music theory homework in on time, my worst class was cancelled, attended documentary class, rehearsed with choir, had CODA, and then sat down at the Steinway in the performance hall and had a little mini performance. At the beginning of the year, I loved Tuesdays. I am very very busy on Tuesdays. I loved this. Recently, I've had a spurt of ridiculous, random laziness and so Tuesdays have been less enjoyable. Due to a wonderful, relaxing, refreshing (Gracious, I feel like Jane Austen here with this surplus of adjectives) Thanksgiving-Much-Needed-Break, KB (Katharine) is back. I believe Thanksgiving Break to be nearly as valuable as books. Books are the other reason why I am back. I went to the library, and for the first time at Rhodes, I checked out a book. I got so caught up reading books for classes that I rarely had time for pleasure reading. I went to the library in search of The Golden Compass and Atonement (I need to read the books before I see the films AND there's been all this hullabaloo/controversy over the Golden Compass and I desire to express my opinion on the matter which I cannot do if I have not read the book.) However, they were both lost. It's a sad sad thing. One copy of each. Thus, I left with Woody Allen's Mere Anarchy and Wendy Wasserstein's posthumously published Elements of Style. Within two hours, I returned both. I had read half of Mere Anarchy and a couple of pages of Elements of Style and I was through. Mere Anarchy was brilliant and hysterically funny (describing a housemaid as Wagnerian...who would think of these things besides Woody Allen? Oh, and a conversation between Nutmeg and an Umlaut.) I read the bits I wanted to, wrote down the plethora of vocabulary with which I was unfamiliar, looked them up in the dictionary, pondered over Allen's wackiness, and then returned them both. (The Wasserstein book was too fluffy--even for fluffy reading.)
I was entirely unsatisfied.
When I start reading, I get on a kick. It's truly bizarre--for some reason, reading other people's plots or thoughts (ha! that rhymed) gets me on the weirdest trajectory. I cannot stop reading, and their thoughts and stylistic mannerisms make me desire to write, and before I know it I'm thinking in narrative. Seriously. I'll be walking outside and think of the most random things and then turn it into a monologue as if someone could narrate my life over me as though I were in a movie. That was a really long, really poorly written run on sentence. But I've recently learned certain mistakes are okay. That is because, wonder of wonders, just when I desperately was craving a book, John Weeden stopped his discussion of "various and sundry" (isn't everything always various and sundry? You know what, I don't even know what sundry means. Hold on. Sundry: miscellaneous, various. Thank you Merriam Webster.) Anyway, he stopped this discussion of various miscellany (isn't that a brilliant word? It's so much better than the singular!) and held up a beautiful beautiful box from Amazon.com. Do you know what was inside? I know you do!
A BOOK!
There is a God! At the perfectly divine moment, I got a book. And you know what? It is a damn good one. I feel like half of my posts are begging you to veer away from this site so you can go experience something wonderful that I'm promoting and I really shouldn't do that considering the pea-sized audience I've possibly acquired, but please stop reading this. Seriously. I'm just going to keep rambling. It will not get any more interesting.
Go to the bookstore. Buy It's Not How Good you Are, It's How Good You Want to Be. It's brilliant. Paul Arden is a genius. I read it from the second CODA was over and had devoured it in under half an hour. I have now cut up the entire thing and it is displayed all over the walls of my dorm room. It is so ingenius that it makes me feel like an idiot. Although, according to Mr. Arden, that's okay. Most creative people apparently feel like idiots on a regular basis.
If anyone reading this thinks they're insane for thinking the odd, possibly imaginative but more likely simply bizarre thoughts and ideas like I do, this book will make you feel infinitely better about how you differ from your seemingly more sane peers.
Here are some of my favorite bits (It's essentially a series of bumper sticker quotes that you're familiar with but have never disected or digested):
"Nearly all rich and powerful people are not notably talented, educated, charming, or good-looking. They become rich and powerful by wanting to be rich and powerful."
"Talent helps, but it won't take you as far as ambition." (I am so grateful for this. I like to think I have a fair amount of ambition, but I am by no means a specialist in anything.)
"Everybody wants to be good, but not many are prepared to make the sacrifices it takes to be great."
"You will become whoever you want to be."
"Most people are looking for a solution, a way to become good." (Nichomachean Ethics, anyone?)
"You must develop a complete disregard for where your abilities end."
"Have you noticed how the cleverest people at school are not those who make it in life?" This is the story of my life. Okay, here's a fun tidbit. In middle school, everybody took art from Mr. D. The "popular" girl (let's call her Toby) usually made 100's for her cutesy drawings and paintings. The more insecure, less popular girl and I always made the worst grades in art (94--it's middle school, so B's basically don't exist.) As this girl (let's call her Beth) and I bemoaned our low grades, Toby would gleefully giggle with her posse of acne free, braces free pocket sized individuals. She went to an arts magnet high school and is now at RISD, and (to the best of my knowledge and facebook stalking) is extremely happy. Toby is an unsuccessful swimsuit model.
"Give Away Everything you know, and more will come back to you."
"Accentuate the Positive. A radio commercial for suntan lotion. An Englishman's voice tells of the product's benefits. As he talks his voice gradually changes to that of a West Indian man. Brilliant. You konw that suntan lotion won't make you black, but you accept that it might make you brown." AKA don't be afraid of hyperboles. Maximize.
"Do it his way. Then do it your way. Give him what he wants and he may well give you what you want. There is also the possibility that he may be right."
"When it can't be done, do it. If you don't do it, it doesn't exist." My brilliant third grade teacher always made us say, "If they didn't say you couldn't, you can."
And can I interject here for a moment and say (not that any of them will read this) but I am wholeheartedly grateful and appreciative of my elementary/middle school/high school teachers. I've only recently realized just how much I learned at each of them. Though I understand my elementary/middle school has changed considerably since I was there, at the time it was a wonderfully whimsical, creative place to grow up. Nothing was more encouraged than creativity. Destination Imagination was the coolest thing to do. In fact, I feel like the program I'm in now, CODA, is simply a grown up version of Destination Imagination and Odyssey of the Mind. So thanks to Ms. Lewis, Ms. Butler, Mrs. French, Mrs. Fromme, Ms. Westfall, Ms. Rose, Mrs. Schuler, and Mr. Maloney. And I can't imagine how I'll ever repay Hockaday. Hockaday was literally the worst and best parts of life I've thus far experienced. It was absolute hell for three of six years, and absolute bliss for the other three. I am so grateful to the people who put up with me in the worst and helped me in the best. So, again (not like you'll read this) but, thank you Ms. Wortley, MBJ, Hub, Mr. Long, Ms. Broussard, Ms. Farrell, Mrs. Snow, Mrs. Cunningham, Ms. Brooks, Mr. Ladwig, Sarah Brown (so she's not a teacher, but she's always for some reason had incredible faith in what I do and has taught me so much about compassion) and Mr. Dumaine. I'm also unimaginably grateful for all arts teachers I've had, particularly my first and only piano teacher Mrs. Dill. I probably learned more from her than I'll ever learn from anyone else.
I'm not sure how this book spawned this longwinded list of thank yous, but it sort of has reminded me of how incredibly lucky and blessed I've been to have had such incredible mentors. Anything I've ever produced that I have been proud of or thought was good was 100% influenced by these people. I know that list is going to keep growing as I get older. Since this summer, I've already met at least three people who go on this (all things considered) short list of people who have really affected me.
I could continue on another tangent about how life is relational and the whole point of life is experiencing with and because of others. That is what gives you happiness. So even though there's not true altruism, being nice to others isn't entirely selfish. Well, it may have selfish intentions but the outcome is that they have a new friend and you know one more person. Sorry, babbling again. I can't continue this babbling, however, because we have even MORE quotes!
"If you can't solve a problem, it's because you're playing by the rules."
"The person who doesn't make mistakes is unlikely to make anything."
"Benjamin Franklin said, 'I haven't failed, I've had 10,000 ideas that didn't work.'"
"Fail, fail again, fail better." Samuel Beckett
"Knowledge...is the opposite of originality."
"Being right is also being boring. Your mind is closed. You are not open to new ideas. You are rooted in your own rightness, which is arrogant. Arrogance is valuable tool, but only if used very sparingly."
"Start being wrong and suddenly anything is possible. You're no longer trying to be infallible."
"How you perceive yourself is how others will see you." (This is a scary thought. Therefore, I choose to believe it's only partially true.)
"Don't give a speech. Put on a show."
Stravinsky, "I don't write music, I invent it!"
Charles Ives: "Awards are merely badges of mediocrity."
"You don't have to be creative to be creative."
Slogans win business.
Everyone is selling. "The way you dress when going for an interview or a party, or merely putting lipstick on. Aren't you selling yourself? Your priest is selling. He is selling what he believes in. God. The point is we are all selling. We are in advertising. It is a part of life."
Herman Melville: "It is better to fail in originality than succeed in imitation."
Dr Scholl: 'Early to bed. Early to rise. Work like hell and advertise."
"we don't see things as they are. We see them as we are." Anais Nin
"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than going to a garage makes you a mechanic." Laurence J Peter
"Happiness is a singular incentive to mediocrity." Michel Montaigne.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
(^well, you've got to draw the line somewhere.)
I was entirely unsatisfied.
When I start reading, I get on a kick. It's truly bizarre--for some reason, reading other people's plots or thoughts (ha! that rhymed) gets me on the weirdest trajectory. I cannot stop reading, and their thoughts and stylistic mannerisms make me desire to write, and before I know it I'm thinking in narrative. Seriously. I'll be walking outside and think of the most random things and then turn it into a monologue as if someone could narrate my life over me as though I were in a movie. That was a really long, really poorly written run on sentence. But I've recently learned certain mistakes are okay. That is because, wonder of wonders, just when I desperately was craving a book, John Weeden stopped his discussion of "various and sundry" (isn't everything always various and sundry? You know what, I don't even know what sundry means. Hold on. Sundry: miscellaneous, various. Thank you Merriam Webster.) Anyway, he stopped this discussion of various miscellany (isn't that a brilliant word? It's so much better than the singular!) and held up a beautiful beautiful box from Amazon.com. Do you know what was inside? I know you do!
A BOOK!
There is a God! At the perfectly divine moment, I got a book. And you know what? It is a damn good one. I feel like half of my posts are begging you to veer away from this site so you can go experience something wonderful that I'm promoting and I really shouldn't do that considering the pea-sized audience I've possibly acquired, but please stop reading this. Seriously. I'm just going to keep rambling. It will not get any more interesting.
Go to the bookstore. Buy It's Not How Good you Are, It's How Good You Want to Be. It's brilliant. Paul Arden is a genius. I read it from the second CODA was over and had devoured it in under half an hour. I have now cut up the entire thing and it is displayed all over the walls of my dorm room. It is so ingenius that it makes me feel like an idiot. Although, according to Mr. Arden, that's okay. Most creative people apparently feel like idiots on a regular basis.
If anyone reading this thinks they're insane for thinking the odd, possibly imaginative but more likely simply bizarre thoughts and ideas like I do, this book will make you feel infinitely better about how you differ from your seemingly more sane peers.
Here are some of my favorite bits (It's essentially a series of bumper sticker quotes that you're familiar with but have never disected or digested):
"Nearly all rich and powerful people are not notably talented, educated, charming, or good-looking. They become rich and powerful by wanting to be rich and powerful."
"Talent helps, but it won't take you as far as ambition." (I am so grateful for this. I like to think I have a fair amount of ambition, but I am by no means a specialist in anything.)
"Everybody wants to be good, but not many are prepared to make the sacrifices it takes to be great."
"You will become whoever you want to be."
"Most people are looking for a solution, a way to become good." (Nichomachean Ethics, anyone?)
"You must develop a complete disregard for where your abilities end."
"Have you noticed how the cleverest people at school are not those who make it in life?" This is the story of my life. Okay, here's a fun tidbit. In middle school, everybody took art from Mr. D. The "popular" girl (let's call her Toby) usually made 100's for her cutesy drawings and paintings. The more insecure, less popular girl and I always made the worst grades in art (94--it's middle school, so B's basically don't exist.) As this girl (let's call her Beth) and I bemoaned our low grades, Toby would gleefully giggle with her posse of acne free, braces free pocket sized individuals. She went to an arts magnet high school and is now at RISD, and (to the best of my knowledge and facebook stalking) is extremely happy. Toby is an unsuccessful swimsuit model.
"Give Away Everything you know, and more will come back to you."
"Accentuate the Positive. A radio commercial for suntan lotion. An Englishman's voice tells of the product's benefits. As he talks his voice gradually changes to that of a West Indian man. Brilliant. You konw that suntan lotion won't make you black, but you accept that it might make you brown." AKA don't be afraid of hyperboles. Maximize.
"Do it his way. Then do it your way. Give him what he wants and he may well give you what you want. There is also the possibility that he may be right."
"When it can't be done, do it. If you don't do it, it doesn't exist." My brilliant third grade teacher always made us say, "If they didn't say you couldn't, you can."
And can I interject here for a moment and say (not that any of them will read this) but I am wholeheartedly grateful and appreciative of my elementary/middle school/high school teachers. I've only recently realized just how much I learned at each of them. Though I understand my elementary/middle school has changed considerably since I was there, at the time it was a wonderfully whimsical, creative place to grow up. Nothing was more encouraged than creativity. Destination Imagination was the coolest thing to do. In fact, I feel like the program I'm in now, CODA, is simply a grown up version of Destination Imagination and Odyssey of the Mind. So thanks to Ms. Lewis, Ms. Butler, Mrs. French, Mrs. Fromme, Ms. Westfall, Ms. Rose, Mrs. Schuler, and Mr. Maloney. And I can't imagine how I'll ever repay Hockaday. Hockaday was literally the worst and best parts of life I've thus far experienced. It was absolute hell for three of six years, and absolute bliss for the other three. I am so grateful to the people who put up with me in the worst and helped me in the best. So, again (not like you'll read this) but, thank you Ms. Wortley, MBJ, Hub, Mr. Long, Ms. Broussard, Ms. Farrell, Mrs. Snow, Mrs. Cunningham, Ms. Brooks, Mr. Ladwig, Sarah Brown (so she's not a teacher, but she's always for some reason had incredible faith in what I do and has taught me so much about compassion) and Mr. Dumaine. I'm also unimaginably grateful for all arts teachers I've had, particularly my first and only piano teacher Mrs. Dill. I probably learned more from her than I'll ever learn from anyone else.
I'm not sure how this book spawned this longwinded list of thank yous, but it sort of has reminded me of how incredibly lucky and blessed I've been to have had such incredible mentors. Anything I've ever produced that I have been proud of or thought was good was 100% influenced by these people. I know that list is going to keep growing as I get older. Since this summer, I've already met at least three people who go on this (all things considered) short list of people who have really affected me.
I could continue on another tangent about how life is relational and the whole point of life is experiencing with and because of others. That is what gives you happiness. So even though there's not true altruism, being nice to others isn't entirely selfish. Well, it may have selfish intentions but the outcome is that they have a new friend and you know one more person. Sorry, babbling again. I can't continue this babbling, however, because we have even MORE quotes!
"If you can't solve a problem, it's because you're playing by the rules."
"The person who doesn't make mistakes is unlikely to make anything."
"Benjamin Franklin said, 'I haven't failed, I've had 10,000 ideas that didn't work.'"
"Fail, fail again, fail better." Samuel Beckett
"Knowledge...is the opposite of originality."
"Being right is also being boring. Your mind is closed. You are not open to new ideas. You are rooted in your own rightness, which is arrogant. Arrogance is valuable tool, but only if used very sparingly."
"Start being wrong and suddenly anything is possible. You're no longer trying to be infallible."
"How you perceive yourself is how others will see you." (This is a scary thought. Therefore, I choose to believe it's only partially true.)
"Don't give a speech. Put on a show."
Stravinsky, "I don't write music, I invent it!"
Charles Ives: "Awards are merely badges of mediocrity."
"You don't have to be creative to be creative."
Slogans win business.
Everyone is selling. "The way you dress when going for an interview or a party, or merely putting lipstick on. Aren't you selling yourself? Your priest is selling. He is selling what he believes in. God. The point is we are all selling. We are in advertising. It is a part of life."
Herman Melville: "It is better to fail in originality than succeed in imitation."
Dr Scholl: 'Early to bed. Early to rise. Work like hell and advertise."
"we don't see things as they are. We see them as we are." Anais Nin
"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than going to a garage makes you a mechanic." Laurence J Peter
"Happiness is a singular incentive to mediocrity." Michel Montaigne.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
(^well, you've got to draw the line somewhere.)
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Sarah Steele in "Speech and Debate"
Last night, after my rather eventful film-packed evening, I decided to watch Spanglish. Darn commercial America and silly Thanksgiving tv specials--there have never been so many wonderful movies on TV at once. My head is spinning! Anyway, Spanglish was on last night. I had seen it previously (and was surprised at how much I actually liked Adam Sandler...though I've liked both more serious flicks I've seen him in...Spanglish and Click...) but it had been a few years. It's a great movie with a wonderful cast. It was especially fun to see Cloris Leachman in the film again. I began a Mary Tyler Moore Show fetish last summer (Leachman plays Phyllis) so it was fun to see a very loose, crazy, passe actress role for Leachman. Regardless, I love the girl who plays Bernice. Her name is Sarah Steele. She's 19 now, but she played a middle-schooler in the movie. Anyway, I was being my usual nerdy self on www.broadwayworld.com (following the latest news on the stagehands strike) and happened to see a link about Sarah Steele. I wouldn't have recognized her name, but I imdb.com-ed her last night so her name was fresh in my mind. Turns out she's in a small play at roundabout with Gideon Glick (Spring Awkakening) directed by Jason Moore (Tony nom for Avenue Q!) It recieved wonderful reviews...Here's the one from Playbill:
Stephen Karam's black comedy Speech & Debate officially opens Oct. 29 at Roundabout Theatre Company's The Black Box.
Jason Moore (Avenue Q) directs the work, which began previews Oct. 5 for a limited engagement through Dec. 16.
The play is the first production at Roundabout Underground, a new initiative to introduce and cultivate artists. The new, 65-seat space is located below the company's Off-Broadway home, the Laura Pels Theatre, in the Harold and Miriam Steinberg Center for Theatre.
Speech & Debate centers on a trio of misfit teens in Salem, Oregon, who "reluctantly form their school's first speech and debate team after discovering they are all linked by a sex scandal that's rocked their town. Secrets become currency, blogs are belted and 'bathing suit areas' exposed in this black comedy about what, if anything, it means to be an adult," as show notes reveal.
The wannabe journalist, the school play reject and the openly gay teen all team to stretch the boundaries of the traditional forensics forum — using song and even interpretive dance with a number of nods to musical theatre.
The Speech & Debate cast features Susan Blackwell ([title of show]) as Teacher/Reporter, Jason Fuchs (Sea of Tranquility) as Solomon, Gideon Glick (Spring Awakening) as Howie and Sarah Steele (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, "Spanglish") as Diwata.
The design team includes Anna Louizos (sets), Heather Dunbar (costumes) and Brett Jarvis (sound and projections).
Playwright Karam co-wrote the work columbinus, which played Off-Broadway last season at the New York Theatre Workshop. His other works include Girl on Girl.
Director Moore was Tony Award-nominated for his direction of Avenue Q. Other credits include Broadway's Steel Magnolias and Off-Broadway's Guardians and The Crumple Zone. He is slated to direct the upcoming musical Shrek.
Tickets to Speech & Debate at The Black Box Theatre, 111 West 46th Street, are available by calling (212) 719-1300 or by visiting www.roundabouttheatre.org.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
August Rush
Hello from the Big D--
I write to you from my humble abode in the great suburb of Dallas that is Garland. I'm currently watching When Harry Met Sally, I got a pair of $150 boots marked down to $25 dollars at the mall today, I had a free meal (thank you mom), and I saw a sneak preview of the film August Rush.
So far, it's been a pretty decent break.
Anyway, now for my criticism of the film. If you're looking for a decent family holiday flick, see this film. Be my guest. There are plenty of people raving about this film. At my sneak preview, people clapped. Sadly enough, my mother cried.
However, I must warn you that if you're any sort of musician it will do one of two things:
1) Fill your heart with the utmost joy that there's a film about your love/appreciation of music and it's represented in the adorable grin of Freddie Highmore.
OR
2) You will be annoyed with time inaccuracies, poor conducting, the visibility of body mics, an unimaginative-run of the mill-ode to idealized Greenwich village-esque score, and a cliche, incoherent plot.
Keri Russell's character (Lyra--how appropriate for a musical film!) is a cellist pressured by her father. Johnathan Rhys Meyers (Lewis) is in a band with his overbearing brother. The two run away from familial pressures, hear Robin Williams play "Moondance" on a harmonica, and fall in love on a rooftop. Due to various (spoiler related...) matters, the two become separated, Lyra becomes pregnant, and doesn't know she has a son. Meanwhile, poor little Freddie Highmore (putting on a half American accent) runs away from an orphanage to a vacant theatre to live with Robin Williams (an exceptionally creepy Fagan-esque character) and a bunch of child prodigies. Freddie gets discovered, conducts the orchestra, Keri and Johnathan "hear" his music, and the family becomes reunited. Goodie gumdrops.
What really kills me is that the film had so much potential. I very much relate to Highmore's character. Granted, I certainly wasn't a child prodigy by any means, but I do relate to the way the character describes living feeling and living through music. I walk in beat to the music in the mall. I turn street sounds into a symphony. If there is any sound in the room (even the light ticking of a clock) I start dancing (look at my hands and feet, I'm generally dancing or conducting). I see the world through sound. This is why I was so excited about the film; not only did someone get it, they were going to portray it in a film for millions to see! Never again would I have to spend hours staring at confused faces when describing my passion for music! I could simply say--oh, you know, Freddie Highmore in August Rush? That's how I see things.
(Me as August Rush. So maybe it's not the Philharmonic, but it is my high school orchestra.)Alas, they failed. The music was not cohesive (in places that could have truly produced MAGIC), the plot was silly, and Freddie was a miserable conductor. Robin Williams is also terrifying. And nobody just takes an old theatre in NYC and turns it into a retreat for child music prodigies. And no child just jumps up to Julliard with 20 year olds. Anyway, I found it frustrating.
But then again, I'm picky. It's cute enough, and it made my mother cry. That must be some bizarre incentive, right?
I've decided I'm going to reproduce the film in about 20 years when everyone's forgotten about August Rush. It will be a beautiful thing...I hope...
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
On Major/Minor Angst, Liberal Arts Colleges, Otherlands, and Various other Memphis Treasures
Hello from Otherlands--my new Memphian obsession. If you live in Memphis or have the oppotunity to visit, please go to Otherlands and consume as much cinnamon toast (on sourdough bread) and hazelnut lattes as humanly possible. I've been here a couple of times in the last week and I can't get myself to try anything else. The toast is way too addicting.
A few weeks ago I wrote a post comparing my experiences in Dallas to those in Memphis--I have to say that Memphis grows increasingly more charming. I keep finding little treasures (through other people kindly driving away from the Rhodes bubble) in Memphis that make it a far more attractive place to live. I still don't particularly see myself staying here after college, but it's certainly a much more fun place to be than I had anticipated.
I had one of the most wonderful weekends this past weekend since I've been here. Friday night, I danced for five hours (straight!) in the Dance for the Cure dance-a-thon. Anyone who knows me should not be surprised that I forced my team to stick around the entire time. We did not just sway back and forth on the dance floor--we went all out. I'm telling you, four and a half hours in, I literally was doing high kicks, cartwheels, and jumping into the splits. This was probably because they finally played a musical theatre song (the ever-so-popular Grease medley that they play at all high school--and apparently college--dances) Musical theatre truly makes everything more enjoyable. For instance, in my music theory listening assignment from last night, we had to listen to one song/arrangement from Oklahoma. Whereas my analyses of Viardot-Garcia, Mozart, and Brahms were about 1/2-3/4 page, my Oklahoma analysis spanned three pages. Single space.
This brings me to my Sunday evening. (I can backtrack and brief you on Saturday in a second.) Sunday, I decided to go see the last performance of Hairspray in Memphis rather than doing homework. I am ever so glad that I made this decision. The weather was gorgeous all weekend, I worked Saturday afternoon, I walked to Starbucks several times (I've found that a walk to starbucks is about the best incentive EVER to get me to "work out")did a danceathon, had a couple of rehearsals, and saw Hairspray.
Now my thoughts on Hairspray:
Of course I enjoyed it. And yes, I was one of those truly obnoxious people who mouths all the lyrics and is literally bouncing up and down in their seats. I normally wouldn't have such poor etiquette, but I was in a student rush seat that no one (besides my other musical-theatre-crazed friend) was near, and I felt it appropriate to go all out. Link was dreamy enough, Elvisy enough. Edna was amusing and fun. Wilbur was adorable. Tracy was, sadly enough, the understudy. Sometimes this isn't such a bad thing--I work at a music hall back in Dallas and I Much much much preferred the Jo March understudy to the actual touring Jo in Little Women (PS How amazing is the DSM 2008 season? It is ridiculous!) I found Tracy to be a bit obnoxious. She had a very deep, mature voice for Tracy. This is preferable to the over nasaly heinously shrill Marissa Janet Winkour, but not preferable over the happy medium that Nikki Blonsky provided in the film. She just seemed too old. She was obviously wearing a fat suit. It's like Mary Martin bein Peter Pan (yes, yes, argue with me all you want--I STILL find a 50 year old female unfit and creepy as Peter Pan.) She was a skinny, old Tracy. There's something seriously wrong with that. The Von Tussles were obnoxious enough. However, the real star of the show was Alyssa Malgeri. I spent half of the show envying her--she's adorable, tiny, ridiculously talented, side splittingly hysterical, and undergrad at NYU touring in one of the most big budget tours currently travelling through the states. I pretty much hate her. As much as I hate her, though, I love her about ten thousand times more. I desperately want her to be my best friend. Alyssa Malgeri will hopefully have a long, wonderful career ahead of her and I hope to be first in line at as many of her upcoming productions as possible.
Saturday I attended the Fall Date party (woohoo!) which was enjoyable. All in all, I had a lovely weekend.
Monday night was even wonderful. My favorite piano in all of Rhodes is usually in a room which remains locked 99% of the time, except when performances are going on. Wonderfully enough, the door was unlocked. I turned on the stage lights, turned off the audience lights, and played Jason Robert Brown on a Steinway extended grand in the middle of a thunderstorm. Talk about magic.
Not too much else is new with me. There are the ever present Singers and Lipstick rehearsals and performances, there's lots of wonderful/happy things going on with CODA (better make that a new post), and school is just fine. At the same time, I'm ready for Thanksgiving. I need a break. I'm pretty ready for another holiday....
Until next time--
A few weeks ago I wrote a post comparing my experiences in Dallas to those in Memphis--I have to say that Memphis grows increasingly more charming. I keep finding little treasures (through other people kindly driving away from the Rhodes bubble) in Memphis that make it a far more attractive place to live. I still don't particularly see myself staying here after college, but it's certainly a much more fun place to be than I had anticipated.
I had one of the most wonderful weekends this past weekend since I've been here. Friday night, I danced for five hours (straight!) in the Dance for the Cure dance-a-thon. Anyone who knows me should not be surprised that I forced my team to stick around the entire time. We did not just sway back and forth on the dance floor--we went all out. I'm telling you, four and a half hours in, I literally was doing high kicks, cartwheels, and jumping into the splits. This was probably because they finally played a musical theatre song (the ever-so-popular Grease medley that they play at all high school--and apparently college--dances) Musical theatre truly makes everything more enjoyable. For instance, in my music theory listening assignment from last night, we had to listen to one song/arrangement from Oklahoma. Whereas my analyses of Viardot-Garcia, Mozart, and Brahms were about 1/2-3/4 page, my Oklahoma analysis spanned three pages. Single space.
This brings me to my Sunday evening. (I can backtrack and brief you on Saturday in a second.) Sunday, I decided to go see the last performance of Hairspray in Memphis rather than doing homework. I am ever so glad that I made this decision. The weather was gorgeous all weekend, I worked Saturday afternoon, I walked to Starbucks several times (I've found that a walk to starbucks is about the best incentive EVER to get me to "work out")did a danceathon, had a couple of rehearsals, and saw Hairspray.
Now my thoughts on Hairspray:
Of course I enjoyed it. And yes, I was one of those truly obnoxious people who mouths all the lyrics and is literally bouncing up and down in their seats. I normally wouldn't have such poor etiquette, but I was in a student rush seat that no one (besides my other musical-theatre-crazed friend) was near, and I felt it appropriate to go all out. Link was dreamy enough, Elvisy enough. Edna was amusing and fun. Wilbur was adorable. Tracy was, sadly enough, the understudy. Sometimes this isn't such a bad thing--I work at a music hall back in Dallas and I Much much much preferred the Jo March understudy to the actual touring Jo in Little Women (PS How amazing is the DSM 2008 season? It is ridiculous!) I found Tracy to be a bit obnoxious. She had a very deep, mature voice for Tracy. This is preferable to the over nasaly heinously shrill Marissa Janet Winkour, but not preferable over the happy medium that Nikki Blonsky provided in the film. She just seemed too old. She was obviously wearing a fat suit. It's like Mary Martin bein Peter Pan (yes, yes, argue with me all you want--I STILL find a 50 year old female unfit and creepy as Peter Pan.) She was a skinny, old Tracy. There's something seriously wrong with that. The Von Tussles were obnoxious enough. However, the real star of the show was Alyssa Malgeri. I spent half of the show envying her--she's adorable, tiny, ridiculously talented, side splittingly hysterical, and undergrad at NYU touring in one of the most big budget tours currently travelling through the states. I pretty much hate her. As much as I hate her, though, I love her about ten thousand times more. I desperately want her to be my best friend. Alyssa Malgeri will hopefully have a long, wonderful career ahead of her and I hope to be first in line at as many of her upcoming productions as possible.
Saturday I attended the Fall Date party (woohoo!) which was enjoyable. All in all, I had a lovely weekend.
Monday night was even wonderful. My favorite piano in all of Rhodes is usually in a room which remains locked 99% of the time, except when performances are going on. Wonderfully enough, the door was unlocked. I turned on the stage lights, turned off the audience lights, and played Jason Robert Brown on a Steinway extended grand in the middle of a thunderstorm. Talk about magic.
Not too much else is new with me. There are the ever present Singers and Lipstick rehearsals and performances, there's lots of wonderful/happy things going on with CODA (better make that a new post), and school is just fine. At the same time, I'm ready for Thanksgiving. I need a break. I'm pretty ready for another holiday....
Until next time--
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