On Wednesday I leave for Tokyo to perform in Steve Martin's Picasso at the Lapin Agile. I'll be gone for about 2.5 months, living the life in Japan.
And you can follow my exploits on this tumblr: http://talkingbreakfast.tumblr.com
Arigato!
Showing posts with label Performance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Performance. Show all posts
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Let's Japan!
Dusting off the cobwebs of this ol' blog to let you know of a slight change in my life.
On Wednesday I leave for Tokyo to perform in Steve Martin's Picasso at the Lapin Agile. I'll be gone for about 2.5 months, living the life in Japan.
And you can follow my exploits on this tumblr: http://talkingbreakfast.tumblr.com
Arigato!
On Wednesday I leave for Tokyo to perform in Steve Martin's Picasso at the Lapin Agile. I'll be gone for about 2.5 months, living the life in Japan.
And you can follow my exploits on this tumblr: http://talkingbreakfast.tumblr.com
Arigato!
Monday, December 28, 2009
Let's Musical Improv! (IV)
I did it! (Again!)
Last Sunday was the free Intro to Musical Improv class offered by the Magnet Theater, and it was... pretty easy! And all because of teacher Tara Copeland and accompanist extraordinaire Frank Spitznagel, as well as the incredibly supportive class.
To be honest, I was nervous going in. It's not often that I take classes anymore, and I always feel like I've gotta prove my "veteran" status to the other students. Maybe everyone feels that way, I dunno. But it was a heck of a lot easier to have a handful of friends and teammates in there (plus it's always exciting to see Ari and Betsy rap), and the environment was blessedly free from any critical eyes.
Luckily, there wasn't much actual improvising, so I felt better - and yes, I'm aware it seems weird for an improviser to be relieved he wouldn't have to do any actual improvising in a Musical Improv class.
Since it was an introductory class, Tara ran a lot of warm-ups and simple musical exercises. To analogize this to my katana class from January, we were just learning how to hold the sword and swing it properly, not how to kill in one slice. You know, the basics. And since I've run a number of these exercises before, it was even less stressful. Also, it's hard to be nervous with Tara around, as she is one of the most incredibly supportive teachers I've ever had (also in that category: Ari).
Throw in the fact that Frank underscored all of the exercises with his epic level piano playing and it threw everything into a whole new dimension. Seriously, with him on the keys, even a simple game like Hot Spot felt performance-worthy.
About halfway through, I became delightedly aware that we were being trained somehow. And this sounds like a redundantly thing to realize while in a classroom, but it was pretty exciting to me. Tara explicitly taught us to not be ashamed of our singing or our lyrics, to never apologize, to love what we sing and to have fun. And those are all lessons I never tire of hearing. It's like walking past those guardians in The NeverEnding Story - you won't fail unless you let yourself fail. But if you live it, love it, sing it... you'll get whatever it is beyond those guardians.
And implicitly, we were learning to trust the piano, to realize the accompanist had our back and would only make things better, not make them harder. Maybe this li'l lesson delighted me so because that's something I've always worried about. As stated before, chord progression and crap like that is alien to me, and God knows I never want to be the performer who's singing off-key. Now I know that such a thing won't happen, the accompanist can handle it. Whew!
Our final exercise was, actually, improvising a song. Four people to a group, one person would come up with the chorus, two would each do a verse, and one would make up the bridge. I would've been happy doing any of those, but I got the bridge, which was probably the best choice, because I wasn't sure what one was until Tara explained it for us. And we sang a silly song about air pollution, and it was pretty great, and I loved it.
Last Sunday was the free Intro to Musical Improv class offered by the Magnet Theater, and it was... pretty easy! And all because of teacher Tara Copeland and accompanist extraordinaire Frank Spitznagel, as well as the incredibly supportive class.
To be honest, I was nervous going in. It's not often that I take classes anymore, and I always feel like I've gotta prove my "veteran" status to the other students. Maybe everyone feels that way, I dunno. But it was a heck of a lot easier to have a handful of friends and teammates in there (plus it's always exciting to see Ari and Betsy rap), and the environment was blessedly free from any critical eyes.
Luckily, there wasn't much actual improvising, so I felt better - and yes, I'm aware it seems weird for an improviser to be relieved he wouldn't have to do any actual improvising in a Musical Improv class.
Since it was an introductory class, Tara ran a lot of warm-ups and simple musical exercises. To analogize this to my katana class from January, we were just learning how to hold the sword and swing it properly, not how to kill in one slice. You know, the basics. And since I've run a number of these exercises before, it was even less stressful. Also, it's hard to be nervous with Tara around, as she is one of the most incredibly supportive teachers I've ever had (also in that category: Ari).
Throw in the fact that Frank underscored all of the exercises with his epic level piano playing and it threw everything into a whole new dimension. Seriously, with him on the keys, even a simple game like Hot Spot felt performance-worthy.
About halfway through, I became delightedly aware that we were being trained somehow. And this sounds like a redundantly thing to realize while in a classroom, but it was pretty exciting to me. Tara explicitly taught us to not be ashamed of our singing or our lyrics, to never apologize, to love what we sing and to have fun. And those are all lessons I never tire of hearing. It's like walking past those guardians in The NeverEnding Story - you won't fail unless you let yourself fail. But if you live it, love it, sing it... you'll get whatever it is beyond those guardians.
And implicitly, we were learning to trust the piano, to realize the accompanist had our back and would only make things better, not make them harder. Maybe this li'l lesson delighted me so because that's something I've always worried about. As stated before, chord progression and crap like that is alien to me, and God knows I never want to be the performer who's singing off-key. Now I know that such a thing won't happen, the accompanist can handle it. Whew!
Our final exercise was, actually, improvising a song. Four people to a group, one person would come up with the chorus, two would each do a verse, and one would make up the bridge. I would've been happy doing any of those, but I got the bridge, which was probably the best choice, because I wasn't sure what one was until Tara explained it for us. And we sang a silly song about air pollution, and it was pretty great, and I loved it.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Let's Musical Improv! (III)
I did it!
It was... not easy. But not hard, I guess. I dunno. It's hard to remember.
My favorite part was warming up vocally with everyone, since that's something I haven't done in almost ten years. Yeowch! And I thought, "Oh, right, we're also supposed to actually sing well."
And beforehand I'd asked some folks for simple advice, like, "What's the one thing you should know if you're going to do a musical improv set?" And the best answer I got was that your character should have a strong want - that's what you're probably gonna end up singing about.
And it was fun! A little nutso, but what improv isn't, and I actually sang two songs.
I've never been smart when it comes to musical machinations (I dunno the proper term for this, but things like fifths and eighths mean nothing to me), so I think I was paying too much attention to what the piano player (who did an incredible job all night) was up to, like if the chords were going to change or if we were moving into a different direction.
Then on top of that, there's the lyrics, which I'm responsible for. Yeowch! For some reason, despite being told to the contrary, I kept thinking the song should rhyme, and so that was a hard habit to break. I think that tripped me up the most. But I love rhyming so much, I don't know if I WANT to break that habit.
So we'll see how things go on Sunday. I hope it is a fun day. Four people are going - will my love of musical improv be growing?
See? Rhymes.
It was... not easy. But not hard, I guess. I dunno. It's hard to remember.
My favorite part was warming up vocally with everyone, since that's something I haven't done in almost ten years. Yeowch! And I thought, "Oh, right, we're also supposed to actually sing well."
And beforehand I'd asked some folks for simple advice, like, "What's the one thing you should know if you're going to do a musical improv set?" And the best answer I got was that your character should have a strong want - that's what you're probably gonna end up singing about.
And it was fun! A little nutso, but what improv isn't, and I actually sang two songs.
I've never been smart when it comes to musical machinations (I dunno the proper term for this, but things like fifths and eighths mean nothing to me), so I think I was paying too much attention to what the piano player (who did an incredible job all night) was up to, like if the chords were going to change or if we were moving into a different direction.
Then on top of that, there's the lyrics, which I'm responsible for. Yeowch! For some reason, despite being told to the contrary, I kept thinking the song should rhyme, and so that was a hard habit to break. I think that tripped me up the most. But I love rhyming so much, I don't know if I WANT to break that habit.
So we'll see how things go on Sunday. I hope it is a fun day. Four people are going - will my love of musical improv be growing?
See? Rhymes.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Let's Musical Improv! (II)
Before Tara's introductory class, I'm gonna just try performing it. Tonight. Whoa Mama!
Musical Kaleidoscope
Monday, Dec. 14th, 7:30 p.m.
The Creek, 10-93 Jackson Ave.
Free, but the experience is priceless
Very appreciative to Jeremy for inviting me on his team, and, yeah, I'm kind of nervous! More nervous than I normally get before a show because I don't really know how to properly improvise a song. And by "don't really know" I mean "don't know at all."
There's a chorus in there somewhere, probably, and that's a big part, and there are also verses, and it should rhyme, but other than that, I just don't know. I kind of hope we don't go first so I can watch a group and try to figure this stuff out.
It'd be cool if I end up being this savant about musical improv (much like Charlie Sanders's legendary first Harold, where he came to class late, jumped in at the opening, did a hilarious and awesome set, and then after the teacher said, "So what'd you think of that Harold?" asked, "What the heck is a Harold?"), but I'll settle for not ruining the show.
Monday, Dec. 14th, 7:30 p.m.
The Creek, 10-93 Jackson Ave.
Free, but the experience is priceless
Very appreciative to Jeremy for inviting me on his team, and, yeah, I'm kind of nervous! More nervous than I normally get before a show because I don't really know how to properly improvise a song. And by "don't really know" I mean "don't know at all."
There's a chorus in there somewhere, probably, and that's a big part, and there are also verses, and it should rhyme, but other than that, I just don't know. I kind of hope we don't go first so I can watch a group and try to figure this stuff out.
It'd be cool if I end up being this savant about musical improv (much like Charlie Sanders's legendary first Harold, where he came to class late, jumped in at the opening, did a hilarious and awesome set, and then after the teacher said, "So what'd you think of that Harold?" asked, "What the heck is a Harold?"), but I'll settle for not ruining the show.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Let's Musical Improv!
I signed up for a free Intro to Musical Improv class over at the Magnet Theater. It's Sunday the 20th from 3:30-5:30, and you can register for it, too - just click that link! Do it. Do it now.
I'm pretty psyched, actually. Musical Improv is something I've always wanted to do, since I like singing and making up songs and I really ought to have piano accompaniment in my life, but I never seem to have the free time/cash when classes come rolling around.
So this time I'm gonna do it... and I'm a bit excited/nervous about trying some skill that I have absolutely zero experience in (if you don't count the countless hours I've spent making up annoying songs around the house). It's like when I took rollerskating lessons - my body just had no idea what muscles to use, how to balance, anything, it was an entirely alien thing. Actually, that was worse, since it was physical. This should be easier.
As adults, I don't think we have many opportunities to be exposed to such newness, and in fact we probably avoid it a little - it's weird being uncomfortable and unsure and like, "I just don't know what's going on!" Hence my excitement/nervousness.
Maybe that's why I keep telling my friends (including you) about this intro class - so that I'm not stepping onto that stage with a bunch of strangers. To misquote Calvin and Hobbes, the unknown is never quite so scary when you're with a friend. So sign up!
That's what this blog's been about all along, I suppose. I don't mind doing it alone - sometimes it's fun to face weirdness alone - but shared experiences have their own power, too.
[Edited to add: Pam just signed up for it, so now the entire class is ruined.]
[Edited further to add: Ari and Betsy and Katey signed up, so now it sort of evens out.]
I'm pretty psyched, actually. Musical Improv is something I've always wanted to do, since I like singing and making up songs and I really ought to have piano accompaniment in my life, but I never seem to have the free time/cash when classes come rolling around.
So this time I'm gonna do it... and I'm a bit excited/nervous about trying some skill that I have absolutely zero experience in (if you don't count the countless hours I've spent making up annoying songs around the house). It's like when I took rollerskating lessons - my body just had no idea what muscles to use, how to balance, anything, it was an entirely alien thing. Actually, that was worse, since it was physical. This should be easier.
As adults, I don't think we have many opportunities to be exposed to such newness, and in fact we probably avoid it a little - it's weird being uncomfortable and unsure and like, "I just don't know what's going on!" Hence my excitement/nervousness.
Maybe that's why I keep telling my friends (including you) about this intro class - so that I'm not stepping onto that stage with a bunch of strangers. To misquote Calvin and Hobbes, the unknown is never quite so scary when you're with a friend. So sign up!
That's what this blog's been about all along, I suppose. I don't mind doing it alone - sometimes it's fun to face weirdness alone - but shared experiences have their own power, too.
[Edited to add: Pam just signed up for it, so now the entire class is ruined.]
[Edited further to add: Ari and Betsy and Katey signed up, so now it sort of evens out.]
Friday, August 28, 2009
Let's ETV 8!
Enormous Television 8
a rock and roll music revue
Your favorite NYC comedians sing rock songs accompanied by the ETV band.
They chose the songs, we rehearse it extensively and present it to you in a genuine rock music venue.
at Kenny's Castaways
157 Bleecker Street, NYC between Sullivan & Thompson Street.
Friday, August 28th, 2009
7pm
$5 cover
http://www.kennyscastaways.net/
Starring:
Jessica Allen
Tony Carnevale
Tara Copeland
Kirk Damato
James Eason
Brian Fountain
Kate Hess
Will Hines
Tabitha Lee
Maddy Mako
Shannon Manning
Robin Rothman
Alexis Saarela
Risa Sang-urai
Andrew Secunda
Ashley Ward
The ETV Band:
Dan Goodman - Bass
Ernie Privetera - Keyboards
Andrew Dickerson - Guitar
Mark Lee - Guitar
Lou Iacobelli - Drums
&
Terry Jinn - Guitar
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Let's DCM XI!
Another thing I did from that list o' fun was attend and perform in the Del Close Marathon, held this past weekend.
Truth be told, I'm not a fan of the DCM. It's always on a super-duper hot weekend, and it's even hotter in an underground theater that's packed full of millions of sweaty people. Someone described it as a "beer sauna," and that's pretty much right.
Even on the best nights, after performing a show, I usually get so claustrophobic that I have difficulty breathing and have to leave, so if we up the temperature and the number of bodies exponentially, it's sort of a nightmare for me.
But I resolved myself to at least do the DeCoster show, since we're a house team at the hosting theater. But as I descended into the thick, steamy green wasteland, I thought, "What the heck am I doing to myself?"
The important thing, though, is that I performed, and then, as an added Year of Yes surprise, got asked to sit in with Oscarbait, a the improvised Movie show that I directed for several months.
It's weird that instantly I was like, "Hell, yeah, I'll stick around for another hour and do a show that'll make me sweat off a pound!" but the Movie has always been my favorite form of improv, it's my one true love, and doing it again after 2.5 years was pretty darn special. There's no way I would turn down that opportunity.
Before the show I was jumping and fidgeting around and someone asked if I was nervous. "No," I said, "just psyched." Doing a Movie! What fun!
And we had a terrific show. It's a lot of work doing a Movie, even more doing it under a tight 25-minute schedule, but damn, it was fun. There was a moment when I was helping to lift one of our biggest, tallest members off the ground (in order to show an overhead shot), and I just started smiling manically at the sheer joy of it all.
And that's what the Marathon is all about, Charlie Brown.
Here's a poster of the Movie, as designed by Jessica Stickles (and a synopsis can be read here). I played the Chinese kid.
Truth be told, I'm not a fan of the DCM. It's always on a super-duper hot weekend, and it's even hotter in an underground theater that's packed full of millions of sweaty people. Someone described it as a "beer sauna," and that's pretty much right.
Even on the best nights, after performing a show, I usually get so claustrophobic that I have difficulty breathing and have to leave, so if we up the temperature and the number of bodies exponentially, it's sort of a nightmare for me.
But I resolved myself to at least do the DeCoster show, since we're a house team at the hosting theater. But as I descended into the thick, steamy green wasteland, I thought, "What the heck am I doing to myself?"
The important thing, though, is that I performed, and then, as an added Year of Yes surprise, got asked to sit in with Oscarbait, a the improvised Movie show that I directed for several months.
It's weird that instantly I was like, "Hell, yeah, I'll stick around for another hour and do a show that'll make me sweat off a pound!" but the Movie has always been my favorite form of improv, it's my one true love, and doing it again after 2.5 years was pretty darn special. There's no way I would turn down that opportunity.
Before the show I was jumping and fidgeting around and someone asked if I was nervous. "No," I said, "just psyched." Doing a Movie! What fun!
And we had a terrific show. It's a lot of work doing a Movie, even more doing it under a tight 25-minute schedule, but damn, it was fun. There was a moment when I was helping to lift one of our biggest, tallest members off the ground (in order to show an overhead shot), and I just started smiling manically at the sheer joy of it all.
And that's what the Marathon is all about, Charlie Brown.
Here's a poster of the Movie, as designed by Jessica Stickles (and a synopsis can be read here). I played the Chinese kid.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Let's Book It!
Boy, August sure seems to be a bad month for blogging. Too hot, dreaming about Dragon*Con, not much going on... but then I had that "Let's Do Things!" list from a few days ago, how'd all that go?
Starting with the Greek naval battle re-enactment last Thursday, to put it simply, I didn't go.
But before the Laughing Cow can say "FAIL," let me explain! I booked something and had to shoot that instead. Whee, booking! And it was an... interesting experience, to put it nicely. Lot of Year of Yes moments in there, I guess.
It starts with a phone call from the casting director, always a source of excitement. Booked it, yes! Two-day shoot, hooray! Moneyz, that's the best part! But details of the shoot are non-existent - the production people will call me with all the info... but no one ever calls.
At around 8 p.m., I finally hear from someone in wardrobe. We talk about a few outfits I should bring (having to bring my own clothes = first warning sign that this ship might not sail so smoothly), but he doesn't know when or where the actual shoot will happen.
Slightly nervous, I talk with someone else who booked it and we share concerns that we haven't heard anything. We vow to tell each other that once we know what's going on, we'll share it with the other.
I never get a call or email from the production people, but luckily, my friend does, and he forwards everything to me.
However, I don't happen to see it until 7:30 a.m. on Wednesday, and find out I have to be there in an hour. Yikes!
Now I have two options: 1) Say, "Screw it, I'm in the right if I don't show up. No one told me anything!" But the trouble with this is that sure, I'm right, but I could end up losing the gig... and the moneyz. 2) Shag ass to get down there in time.
I choose the second option. Better safe than sorry. Finally, breathless, I arrive on the set, only to be told, "Nah, we don't need you til tomorrow. Go home." Suxor!
In the middle of the day I get a call from both the casting agency and the production company saying, you know, "Sorry for the mix-up. We only need you for tomorrow," but to quote Homer Simpson, "Sorry doesn't put thumbs on the hand."
DAY TWO. I show up on time. I hear from my friend that the previous day's shoot was, and I quote, "rough." 8:30 a.m. to 10:20 p.m.? Yeah, that's rough. So I know I might be in for a day of fun, fun, fun.
Shooting is a lot of "Hurry up and wait." I get my clothes pressed, my makeup on, and I sit down with the rest of the actors and watch Wayne's World. I do a bit of walking around in the background (at which point I wonder, "Wait, am I an extra?!"), then settle down to read my book.
About six hours later, I do my piece. It's assumed that I know what I'm doing and how I'm going to do it, but no one's told me what to do, they just started rolling film. Whoa! So in my soon-to-be-famous "caught looking at a guy's wiener" scene, I try several facial expressions: guilty, angry, shocked, psyched, scared, anything that I'd find amusing. The crew seemed to find them funny, and that's what's important, really.
Then a nice lunch, another few hours of waiting, and I get released.
And another crossroads comes up: We're told to invoice the company, (further evidence that this ship is in troubled waters). I have to face this chilling challenge: do I charge for one day or two?
I choose the second option, because 1) I was originally told it was a two-day shoot, so I kept my day clear (thus turning down any freelance work), did the detective work and shagged ass, and 2) If I don't stand up for myself, no one will, because I don't have an agent to handle this mess.
Advice from most people followed the "Book 'em for two days, but expect to get paid for one" route, so we'll see how it turns out.
Sucks that I missed that Greek naval battle, though.
Starting with the Greek naval battle re-enactment last Thursday, to put it simply, I didn't go.
But before the Laughing Cow can say "FAIL," let me explain! I booked something and had to shoot that instead. Whee, booking! And it was an... interesting experience, to put it nicely. Lot of Year of Yes moments in there, I guess.
It starts with a phone call from the casting director, always a source of excitement. Booked it, yes! Two-day shoot, hooray! Moneyz, that's the best part! But details of the shoot are non-existent - the production people will call me with all the info... but no one ever calls.
At around 8 p.m., I finally hear from someone in wardrobe. We talk about a few outfits I should bring (having to bring my own clothes = first warning sign that this ship might not sail so smoothly), but he doesn't know when or where the actual shoot will happen.
Slightly nervous, I talk with someone else who booked it and we share concerns that we haven't heard anything. We vow to tell each other that once we know what's going on, we'll share it with the other.
I never get a call or email from the production people, but luckily, my friend does, and he forwards everything to me.
However, I don't happen to see it until 7:30 a.m. on Wednesday, and find out I have to be there in an hour. Yikes!
Now I have two options: 1) Say, "Screw it, I'm in the right if I don't show up. No one told me anything!" But the trouble with this is that sure, I'm right, but I could end up losing the gig... and the moneyz. 2) Shag ass to get down there in time.
I choose the second option. Better safe than sorry. Finally, breathless, I arrive on the set, only to be told, "Nah, we don't need you til tomorrow. Go home." Suxor!
In the middle of the day I get a call from both the casting agency and the production company saying, you know, "Sorry for the mix-up. We only need you for tomorrow," but to quote Homer Simpson, "Sorry doesn't put thumbs on the hand."
DAY TWO. I show up on time. I hear from my friend that the previous day's shoot was, and I quote, "rough." 8:30 a.m. to 10:20 p.m.? Yeah, that's rough. So I know I might be in for a day of fun, fun, fun.
Shooting is a lot of "Hurry up and wait." I get my clothes pressed, my makeup on, and I sit down with the rest of the actors and watch Wayne's World. I do a bit of walking around in the background (at which point I wonder, "Wait, am I an extra?!"), then settle down to read my book.
About six hours later, I do my piece. It's assumed that I know what I'm doing and how I'm going to do it, but no one's told me what to do, they just started rolling film. Whoa! So in my soon-to-be-famous "caught looking at a guy's wiener" scene, I try several facial expressions: guilty, angry, shocked, psyched, scared, anything that I'd find amusing. The crew seemed to find them funny, and that's what's important, really.
Then a nice lunch, another few hours of waiting, and I get released.
And another crossroads comes up: We're told to invoice the company, (further evidence that this ship is in troubled waters). I have to face this chilling challenge: do I charge for one day or two?
I choose the second option, because 1) I was originally told it was a two-day shoot, so I kept my day clear (thus turning down any freelance work), did the detective work and shagged ass, and 2) If I don't stand up for myself, no one will, because I don't have an agent to handle this mess.
Advice from most people followed the "Book 'em for two days, but expect to get paid for one" route, so we'll see how it turns out.
Sucks that I missed that Greek naval battle, though.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Let's Do Things!
Those About to Die Salute You
Thursday, August 13
Wow, this is awesome! And free! And requires togas!
Del Close Marathon XI
Friday, August 14 to Sunday, August 16
DeCoster - Saturday 12:15 a.m. at Urban Stages
UCBW: Kicking Ass and Taking Suggestions - Saturday 5:15 a.m. at UCBT
The Puppet Revolution - Saturday 10:30 a.m. at UCBT
Beauty Love Truth - Sunday 5:15 p.m. at Urban Stages
Japan Fair
Sunday, August 23
I feel like I miss this every year... but not this time!
Enormous Television 8
Friday, August 28
Holy shit this is gonna be an awesome one.
Dragon*Con 2009
Friday, September 4 to Monday, September 7
Whee!
(This blog entry is mostly so I don't forget about the Japan Fair.)
Thursday, August 13
Wow, this is awesome! And free! And requires togas!
Del Close Marathon XI
Friday, August 14 to Sunday, August 16
DeCoster - Saturday 12:15 a.m. at Urban Stages
UCBW: Kicking Ass and Taking Suggestions - Saturday 5:15 a.m. at UCBT
The Puppet Revolution - Saturday 10:30 a.m. at UCBT
Beauty Love Truth - Sunday 5:15 p.m. at Urban Stages
Japan Fair
Sunday, August 23
I feel like I miss this every year... but not this time!
Enormous Television 8
Friday, August 28
Holy shit this is gonna be an awesome one.
Dragon*Con 2009
Friday, September 4 to Monday, September 7
Whee!
(This blog entry is mostly so I don't forget about the Japan Fair.)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Let's Birch 'n' Bear!
I got asked sort of last minute by good ol' Ruby Sneakers if I could do two-person improv set at her show tonight. And since my improm date/Hogwarts student was in a bind, I said yes. Also, her terrific suggestion of who I should ask to be my partner certainly helped, because it's this guy...
...the always wonderful Birch Harms!
However, I also added a stipulation. I didn't want to do a normal set, and requested that I could perform as this guy...
...my bear puppet!
So come check out Birch and a Bear (along with the stand-up stylings of Lee Rubenstein, Matt Little, Rob Stern, Beth Appel, and the host Katey Healy-Wurzburg), tonight at The Lorelei!
The Lorelei - Sunday, July 19th at 8 p.m.
Parkside Lounge, Houston Street b/w Ave. B and C
Free!
PS: Be warned, sometimes this bear is incredibly foul-mouthed.
...the always wonderful Birch Harms!
However, I also added a stipulation. I didn't want to do a normal set, and requested that I could perform as this guy...
...my bear puppet!
So come check out Birch and a Bear (along with the stand-up stylings of Lee Rubenstein, Matt Little, Rob Stern, Beth Appel, and the host Katey Healy-Wurzburg), tonight at The Lorelei!
Parkside Lounge, Houston Street b/w Ave. B and C
Free!
PS: Be warned, sometimes this bear is incredibly foul-mouthed.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Let's Weekend Recap!
A big three days! So much to do, so little time, here's everything in bolded form.
Moustache!
Friday = shave and a haircut for the Hogwarts show. I brought the barbers this picture...
...and walked away looking a bit like Freddie Mercury. I'd forgotten how uncomforable it is to get a professional shave. It feels like they're just scraping off my bristles, and since I'm not the type of man who can shave up against the grain, it gets almost painful at times.
The reviews are mixed. Two people called it "cute," but others have advised I get rid of it. But for the time being [meaning until I'm in a situation where it would be inappropriate to look like Freddie Mercury], the moustache stays. This could be for a very long time, since I never do anything where such a look would be inappropriate.
Yoga!
The hilarious and kind-hearted Kate Spencer spent her birthday teaching her first ever yoga class, and I was lucky enough to be a part of it.
Faithful readers might remember my strained relationship with yoga, but this class was a delight. Difficult, sure, especially since I was probably the only beginner in the class, but I got through it and felt better afterward. I'm still a little sore, which makes me want to do more yoga.
Hogwarts!
As the song goes, it was the best time of my life. If I ever needed to conjure up a Patronus, I'd only have to think of this show.
Immediately after making this statement, Royal realized it was true.
(Here's the flickr set, for those who are curious.)
Street Fair!
On Sunday I was delighted to find a street fair right outside the apartment, so I spent some funny money on a 10-minute massage (not bad!), some corn (not bad!), lemonade (not bad!) and funnel cake (not great).
Even though they're all the same, I always walk through street fairs. But this one was different because it was right outside my apartment! So I could run around going "Street fair!" and buy a lot of weird and crazy food because I could wash my hands afterward.
Swimming!
I went swimming this morning. Swimming! With a moustache!
Moustache!
Friday = shave and a haircut for the Hogwarts show. I brought the barbers this picture...
...and walked away looking a bit like Freddie Mercury. I'd forgotten how uncomforable it is to get a professional shave. It feels like they're just scraping off my bristles, and since I'm not the type of man who can shave up against the grain, it gets almost painful at times.
The reviews are mixed. Two people called it "cute," but others have advised I get rid of it. But for the time being [meaning until I'm in a situation where it would be inappropriate to look like Freddie Mercury], the moustache stays. This could be for a very long time, since I never do anything where such a look would be inappropriate.
Yoga!
The hilarious and kind-hearted Kate Spencer spent her birthday teaching her first ever yoga class, and I was lucky enough to be a part of it.
Faithful readers might remember my strained relationship with yoga, but this class was a delight. Difficult, sure, especially since I was probably the only beginner in the class, but I got through it and felt better afterward. I'm still a little sore, which makes me want to do more yoga.
Hogwarts!
As the song goes, it was the best time of my life. If I ever needed to conjure up a Patronus, I'd only have to think of this show.
Immediately after making this statement, Royal realized it was true.
(Here's the flickr set, for those who are curious.)
Street Fair!
On Sunday I was delighted to find a street fair right outside the apartment, so I spent some funny money on a 10-minute massage (not bad!), some corn (not bad!), lemonade (not bad!) and funnel cake (not great).
Even though they're all the same, I always walk through street fairs. But this one was different because it was right outside my apartment! So I could run around going "Street fair!" and buy a lot of weird and crazy food because I could wash my hands afterward.
Swimming!
I went swimming this morning. Swimming! With a moustache!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Let's Publicity!
I'm a producer!
From TimeOut New York's Wizard Lovers' Guide to NYC
From TimeOut New York's Wizard Lovers' Guide to NYC
...Or put your prophecies on hold and cheer for your favorite Hogwarts house–Gryffindor or Slytherin–on Saturday 11, when members of the Hogwarts Improvisation Society battle it out at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre (307 W 26th St between Eighth and Ninth Aves, 212-366-9176; midnight–1am, $5). “My one requirement [for performers] was being a superfan—like, big enough to already own a costume,” says producer Kirk Damato. As for Potter-themed suggestions, Damato says “the best would be ‘hormones.’” And the worst? “‘Equus.’”
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Let's End of the World!
I'm in this show! It's tonight! It's gonna be a lot of fun!
I don't take a lot of classes these days, but when I saw Mr. Will Hines was doing a class on the End of the World, I had to sign up, unemployment be damned.
And seriously, this class has been a lot of fun. I'm sorry that it's over, but glad that we're about to start a four-week run showing the apocalypse in all its glory. Plus, I get to wear my yellow pants.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Cakes on a Plane!
Cakey's back, bitches!
The very funny Raspberry Brothers will be doing a MST3K-style screening of Snakes on a Plane this weekend, and they asked us if we'd like to screen two Cakey shorts before the feature. So of course we said yes.
This'll be the first time in, like, a year that we've had a Cakey episode up on the big screen, and as an added bonus, there will be a Q&A session featuring me, Dyna, AND Cakey (and maybe Duncan?). Even bigger bonus, as Dyna blogged, you can touch Cakey if you come, or get your picture taken with him. That's a pretty rare opportunity outside of Dragon*Con or my apartment.
The Raspberry Brothers: Snakes on a Plane
(b/w 2 episodes of Cakey! The Cake from Outer Space)
Two shows:
Friday, May 8, 2009 at 12:00am
Saturday, May 9, 2009 at 12:00am
Clearview’s Chelsea Cinema
260 West 23rd St (east of 8th Ave.)
New York, NY
Tickets: $15
The very funny Raspberry Brothers will be doing a MST3K-style screening of Snakes on a Plane this weekend, and they asked us if we'd like to screen two Cakey shorts before the feature. So of course we said yes.
This'll be the first time in, like, a year that we've had a Cakey episode up on the big screen, and as an added bonus, there will be a Q&A session featuring me, Dyna, AND Cakey (and maybe Duncan?). Even bigger bonus, as Dyna blogged, you can touch Cakey if you come, or get your picture taken with him. That's a pretty rare opportunity outside of Dragon*Con or my apartment.
(b/w 2 episodes of Cakey! The Cake from Outer Space)
Two shows:
Friday, May 8, 2009 at 12:00am
Saturday, May 9, 2009 at 12:00am
Clearview’s Chelsea Cinema
260 West 23rd St (east of 8th Ave.)
New York, NY
Tickets: $15
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Let's Barkada!
Traditionally, March has been a weak-ass month for Years of Yes (last year it was the month with the least blog posts), and it looks like I'm following the pattern in 2009.
It's not entirely my fault, I just haven't been doing much so far, besides eating those waffle breakfast sandwiches at Dunkin Donuts. They're only $3.24 (probably a dollar extra if you drink coffee, which I don't), and I've kept pretty busy purchasing, eating, and reminiscing about these sandwiches. They're not that good. The waffles are too damp. They should be crispier.
But today, however, I'm doing a reunion show of sorts for an all-Asian (or half-Asian) improv group called Barkada (that's Filipino for "group of friends" or "clique," depending on the context). We're doing a set, after a break of maybe two years, at a benefit for the Asian American Writers' Workshop, because why not? It's fun to say Yes, and I've always enjoyed improvising with these fine and funny Asians.
Here's the details:
Comedy Night @ the Asian American Writers' Workshop
The Workshop 16 West 32nd Street, 10th Floor
(btwn Broadway & 5th Avenue)
7 p.m.; $5 suggested donation; open to the public
Featuring stand-up by: Sheela Shrinivas, Helen Hong,
Jen Kwok, Kevin Nadal and Ali Wong
Now if you'll excuse me, I am off to Dunkin Donuts.
It's not entirely my fault, I just haven't been doing much so far, besides eating those waffle breakfast sandwiches at Dunkin Donuts. They're only $3.24 (probably a dollar extra if you drink coffee, which I don't), and I've kept pretty busy purchasing, eating, and reminiscing about these sandwiches. They're not that good. The waffles are too damp. They should be crispier.
But today, however, I'm doing a reunion show of sorts for an all-Asian (or half-Asian) improv group called Barkada (that's Filipino for "group of friends" or "clique," depending on the context). We're doing a set, after a break of maybe two years, at a benefit for the Asian American Writers' Workshop, because why not? It's fun to say Yes, and I've always enjoyed improvising with these fine and funny Asians.
Here's the details:
The Workshop 16 West 32nd Street, 10th Floor
(btwn Broadway & 5th Avenue)
7 p.m.; $5 suggested donation; open to the public
Featuring stand-up by: Sheela Shrinivas, Helen Hong,
Jen Kwok, Kevin Nadal and Ali Wong
Now if you'll excuse me, I am off to Dunkin Donuts.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Let's Drums!
This Thursday is Terry Jinn's Enormous Television 7.5, and during Sunday's rehearsal, Lou the drummer asked if Robin or I (the only two singers present) could help out with the drums for one song.
Here's a pretty standard Year of Yes decision. I can't play the drums; my only experience with them is from Rock Band. But I know they're fun to bash and bash and bash and watching Lou is lots of awesome. So, Yes, I wanted to help. Hitting things is fun. But No, I'd be terrified and probably bad at it and didn't want to screw up the song.
But since I'm blogging about it instead of hiding my shame, I obviously said Yes, and so I got to be up there playing the hi-hat and learning what a triplet is while Lou could whale (wail?) away during the very extended solo.
[It might not make sense why a drummer needs a second set of hands to play a neverending triplet on a hi-hat, but if I named the song, you'd go, "Oh, that makes sense..." (or should I say "cents?" No, I shouldn't.) but that would also spoil the song, and part of what I like about ETV is keeping the set list a surprise.]
It was really cool. I had this stupid smile on my face like a baby discovering how much fun it is to bang two pots together, and it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as the music grew and grew. Because this is one hell of a solo.
Man, I like music. Doesn't everyone? Even cavemen loved making things toot, whistle, plunk and boom, and I've never really gotten to experience the fun in boom.
Drumming's amazing! Watching a drummer up close, I always knew but never appreciated how complex it all is. There's so much going on that it just seems like a good drummer has to be ambidextrous. There's the standard one-two-three-four rhythm with one hand and the other is either one-two or one-three or two-four and every fourth beat comes the foot pedal and there's another pedal for a cymbal and then you spice it up every two measures, or maybe four. It's all numbers and math and runs like clockwork but it's also this great-sounding chaos.
And you can experience this great-sounding chaos over at Kenny's Castaways, Thursday at 8 p.m. at ETV 7.5.
Also, you can watch this cartoon to learn about music's humble beginnings, as taught by Professor Owl.
Here's a pretty standard Year of Yes decision. I can't play the drums; my only experience with them is from Rock Band. But I know they're fun to bash and bash and bash and watching Lou is lots of awesome. So, Yes, I wanted to help. Hitting things is fun. But No, I'd be terrified and probably bad at it and didn't want to screw up the song.
But since I'm blogging about it instead of hiding my shame, I obviously said Yes, and so I got to be up there playing the hi-hat and learning what a triplet is while Lou could whale (wail?) away during the very extended solo.
[It might not make sense why a drummer needs a second set of hands to play a neverending triplet on a hi-hat, but if I named the song, you'd go, "Oh, that makes sense..." (or should I say "cents?" No, I shouldn't.) but that would also spoil the song, and part of what I like about ETV is keeping the set list a surprise.]
It was really cool. I had this stupid smile on my face like a baby discovering how much fun it is to bang two pots together, and it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as the music grew and grew. Because this is one hell of a solo.
Man, I like music. Doesn't everyone? Even cavemen loved making things toot, whistle, plunk and boom, and I've never really gotten to experience the fun in boom.
Drumming's amazing! Watching a drummer up close, I always knew but never appreciated how complex it all is. There's so much going on that it just seems like a good drummer has to be ambidextrous. There's the standard one-two-three-four rhythm with one hand and the other is either one-two or one-three or two-four and every fourth beat comes the foot pedal and there's another pedal for a cymbal and then you spice it up every two measures, or maybe four. It's all numbers and math and runs like clockwork but it's also this great-sounding chaos.
And you can experience this great-sounding chaos over at Kenny's Castaways, Thursday at 8 p.m. at ETV 7.5.
Also, you can watch this cartoon to learn about music's humble beginnings, as taught by Professor Owl.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Two Decisions I Recently Made...
1. "Would you be willing to shave your eyebrows for our commercial?"
And I quickly said NO, THANK YOU.
I don't need the money, get little satisfaction at playing a taste bud, and I like my eyebrows a lot. My face would be weird without them. So, sorry, candy commercial, but you can count me out.
2. "Would you be willing to wear a [name omitted] mascot costume for a toy convention?"
And I quickly said YEAH, BUDDY!
I'd have done it for free, actually, instead of the big bucks they offered. Come on, this is Kirk they're asking. I'm an idiot that loves mascots and toys, and this is the closest chance I'll ever getting to becoming a human cartoon (side-note and name-drop: Dick Cavett once called me an "animated toy." Swear to God.), so sign me up!
I was young and foolish then. I feel old and foolish now.
For the past four days I've suffered, worked harder than I think I ever have in my life, and definitely experienced more pain than I've ever felt, including the time I was beaten up by a blind date who was twice my size.
I wish I could've blogged every day to complain and scream, but by the time I limped home, I was too tired and weak to do anything but sit in the bath and disinfect my wounds.
Yeah, if there is a personalized Hell for Kirk, it's what I experienced. To paraphrase Neil Gaiman, it sounds like a bad joke. But, like everything else in Hell, it's deadly serious.
Imagine being surrounded by every funzo toy in the world. And you're allowed to play with them because you're dressed like a cartoon! But... you can't. Your hands are covered in weird, four-fingered gloves that reduce your Dexterity by 10 (D&D scores), and you can barely see out of the dark, tunnel-visioned, mesh-covered hole that is your only outlet to the outside world.
Sweat streams down your face constantly, but you can't wipe it off. You can't touch your head, so that headband you naively wore on the first day, when it slips down and blocks your eyes, YOU ARE SCREWED. When your glasses fog up or fall down too far, YOU ARE SCREWED.
So you go sans spectacles and headband and deal with the sweat. It stings your eyes. So it goes. You lose over a pound a day due to sweating. That sounds dangerous.
The head has this adjustable strap that digs into your forehead. You can't get it to fit right, so you try to hold your beak with one hand, as if you are thinking or have a toothache. The strap causes blisters on your forehead. You get a familiar, almost loving, headache as soon as you put the head over yours. It digs and pinches in all the wrong pressure points. You think you're going mad.
You realize why knights of the olden days sometimes suffocated. The head heats up horribly. You exhale in a way that hopefully blows cool air in your face. It doesn't work. You wonder what would happen if you passed out, and it's only pride and a weird sense of cartoon-character honor that prevents you from giving in.
You can't speak, of course. Mascots never speak. So when you eventually cry from the pain and because you think you're blacking out (and believe me, no matter how proud you are, eventually you will cry), you have to do so silently.
The body was made for someone bigger and stronger than you. It hangs heavily on your shoulders, and the straps unmercifully scrape your skin. The blisters bleed. Sweat gets in the open wounds. It hurts, but what're you gonna do?
Worst of all are the feet of this silly, harmless little cartoon character. You can't walk in the way God and Evolution meant for humans to walk. Your feet remain flat all day, you lift them up, almost like you are marching, and you cannot arch your foot.
The tops of the feet dig into your shins. They bleed, too. You put band-aids and socks over them, but with every step, every single step, they cut into your skin. Every time you walk, all day. And the blood and lymph (?) get stuck to the fur and to your cotton socks, and when they dry, they rip a little. This causes you to bleed some more. You take pride in the fact that none of your blood gets on the costume.
Your walk is somewhere between a waddle and a limp, which is good for the character, but it's really because you've pulled some muscle in your leg. The next day, you'll favor your other leg, and then you'll pull that one, too. By the third day, there's a full-on sprain or something. It hurts. The legs and feet are heavy, and you have all day to walk around and wave at people.
Speaking of the people, are they wide-eyed kids or fellow Kirks who appreciate things like mascots? For the most part, no, not really. This isn't Disney World. It's a convention. They've got business to deal with. Children, and this is true, are forbidden at the toy convention. The convention badge actually says, "Please save yourself and your child the stress and embarrassment of being turned away."
You wave, blow kisses, give a thumbs-up or a high-five. The adults wave politely, smile genuinely every now and then, but the majority of what you get are blank stares and feigned ignorance.
And you know what happens to a cartoon that's ignored, right? It dies.
And so died a little part of my soul.
[Note: This post was a bit dramatic and whiney, so I want to end it by saying my bosses were incredibly cool and sweet and nice, and all the suffering was on my part to be a martyr and not give up.
I thought I could make it through the entire convention, and I was right. I can barely walk right now, but I survived, and most amazing of all, there were even moments when I genuinely thought, "This is kind of fun."
Who else can say that after visiting their own personal little Hell?]
And I quickly said NO, THANK YOU.
I don't need the money, get little satisfaction at playing a taste bud, and I like my eyebrows a lot. My face would be weird without them. So, sorry, candy commercial, but you can count me out.
2. "Would you be willing to wear a [name omitted] mascot costume for a toy convention?"
And I quickly said YEAH, BUDDY!
I'd have done it for free, actually, instead of the big bucks they offered. Come on, this is Kirk they're asking. I'm an idiot that loves mascots and toys, and this is the closest chance I'll ever getting to becoming a human cartoon (side-note and name-drop: Dick Cavett once called me an "animated toy." Swear to God.), so sign me up!
I was young and foolish then. I feel old and foolish now.
For the past four days I've suffered, worked harder than I think I ever have in my life, and definitely experienced more pain than I've ever felt, including the time I was beaten up by a blind date who was twice my size.
I wish I could've blogged every day to complain and scream, but by the time I limped home, I was too tired and weak to do anything but sit in the bath and disinfect my wounds.
Yeah, if there is a personalized Hell for Kirk, it's what I experienced. To paraphrase Neil Gaiman, it sounds like a bad joke. But, like everything else in Hell, it's deadly serious.
Imagine being surrounded by every funzo toy in the world. And you're allowed to play with them because you're dressed like a cartoon! But... you can't. Your hands are covered in weird, four-fingered gloves that reduce your Dexterity by 10 (D&D scores), and you can barely see out of the dark, tunnel-visioned, mesh-covered hole that is your only outlet to the outside world.
Sweat streams down your face constantly, but you can't wipe it off. You can't touch your head, so that headband you naively wore on the first day, when it slips down and blocks your eyes, YOU ARE SCREWED. When your glasses fog up or fall down too far, YOU ARE SCREWED.
So you go sans spectacles and headband and deal with the sweat. It stings your eyes. So it goes. You lose over a pound a day due to sweating. That sounds dangerous.
The head has this adjustable strap that digs into your forehead. You can't get it to fit right, so you try to hold your beak with one hand, as if you are thinking or have a toothache. The strap causes blisters on your forehead. You get a familiar, almost loving, headache as soon as you put the head over yours. It digs and pinches in all the wrong pressure points. You think you're going mad.
You realize why knights of the olden days sometimes suffocated. The head heats up horribly. You exhale in a way that hopefully blows cool air in your face. It doesn't work. You wonder what would happen if you passed out, and it's only pride and a weird sense of cartoon-character honor that prevents you from giving in.
You can't speak, of course. Mascots never speak. So when you eventually cry from the pain and because you think you're blacking out (and believe me, no matter how proud you are, eventually you will cry), you have to do so silently.
The body was made for someone bigger and stronger than you. It hangs heavily on your shoulders, and the straps unmercifully scrape your skin. The blisters bleed. Sweat gets in the open wounds. It hurts, but what're you gonna do?
Worst of all are the feet of this silly, harmless little cartoon character. You can't walk in the way God and Evolution meant for humans to walk. Your feet remain flat all day, you lift them up, almost like you are marching, and you cannot arch your foot.
The tops of the feet dig into your shins. They bleed, too. You put band-aids and socks over them, but with every step, every single step, they cut into your skin. Every time you walk, all day. And the blood and lymph (?) get stuck to the fur and to your cotton socks, and when they dry, they rip a little. This causes you to bleed some more. You take pride in the fact that none of your blood gets on the costume.
Your walk is somewhere between a waddle and a limp, which is good for the character, but it's really because you've pulled some muscle in your leg. The next day, you'll favor your other leg, and then you'll pull that one, too. By the third day, there's a full-on sprain or something. It hurts. The legs and feet are heavy, and you have all day to walk around and wave at people.
Speaking of the people, are they wide-eyed kids or fellow Kirks who appreciate things like mascots? For the most part, no, not really. This isn't Disney World. It's a convention. They've got business to deal with. Children, and this is true, are forbidden at the toy convention. The convention badge actually says, "Please save yourself and your child the stress and embarrassment of being turned away."
You wave, blow kisses, give a thumbs-up or a high-five. The adults wave politely, smile genuinely every now and then, but the majority of what you get are blank stares and feigned ignorance.
And you know what happens to a cartoon that's ignored, right? It dies.
And so died a little part of my soul.
[Note: This post was a bit dramatic and whiney, so I want to end it by saying my bosses were incredibly cool and sweet and nice, and all the suffering was on my part to be a martyr and not give up.
I thought I could make it through the entire convention, and I was right. I can barely walk right now, but I survived, and most amazing of all, there were even moments when I genuinely thought, "This is kind of fun."
Who else can say that after visiting their own personal little Hell?]
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Terry Jinn's Enormous Television 7
This isn't really something I can take credit for as a Year of Yes moment, but it's incredibly awesome and I'm somewhat involved, so it deserves blogging.
Previously-mentioned friend and incredible guitarist Terry Jinn celebrates his birthday the old-fashioned way: with a covers concert.
And I don't mean he goes to see one - he makes one. In the ultimate act of Yes, for the past several years, Terry's organized and set up a "rock and roll music revue" known as Terry Jinn's Enormous Television, and asks his friends to sing a cover song.
The amount of work that goes into this is ridonk, as the ETV band has to learn a good 20 songs a year for 20 singers of various talent, let alone organizing and scheduling everything, but Terry wants to rock, so rock we shall.
And it's happening this Friday.
It is no exaggeration when I say ETV is one of my favorite nights of the year, and I am super, super psyched.
And yes, one of the bands covered is Yes.
Terry Jinn's Enormous Television 7
Friday, August 8, 2008 at 10 p.m.
Kenny's Castaways, 157 Bleecker Street (b/w Sullivan and Thompson)
No Cover
Starring: Jessica Allen, Tony Carnevale, Tara Copeland, Kirk Damato, James Eason, Brian Fountain, Dan Goodman, Kate Hess, Will Hines, Mark Lee, Marc Liepis, Jen MacNeil, Maddy Mako, Shannon Manning, Ernie Privetera, Ari Scott, Andrew Secunda, Ptolemy Slocum, Shelly Slocum
The ETV Band:
Dan Goodman - Bass
Ernie Privetera - Keyboards
Lou Iacobelli - Drums
Terry Jinn - Electric Guitar
Featuring the songs of:
The Buggles, Prince, Thin Lizzy, Cheap Trick, The Who, The Kinks, Faith No More, Bon Jovi, Jefferson Airplane, Aerosmith, The Gin Blossoms, Yes, Cream, Kathleen Edwards, Bruce Springsteen, Journey, Night Ranger, Rush, and more...
Year of Yes! You gotta be in it to Jinn it!
Previously-mentioned friend and incredible guitarist Terry Jinn celebrates his birthday the old-fashioned way: with a covers concert.
And I don't mean he goes to see one - he makes one. In the ultimate act of Yes, for the past several years, Terry's organized and set up a "rock and roll music revue" known as Terry Jinn's Enormous Television, and asks his friends to sing a cover song.
The amount of work that goes into this is ridonk, as the ETV band has to learn a good 20 songs a year for 20 singers of various talent, let alone organizing and scheduling everything, but Terry wants to rock, so rock we shall.
And it's happening this Friday.
It is no exaggeration when I say ETV is one of my favorite nights of the year, and I am super, super psyched.
And yes, one of the bands covered is Yes.
Terry Jinn's Enormous Television 7
Friday, August 8, 2008 at 10 p.m.
Kenny's Castaways, 157 Bleecker Street (b/w Sullivan and Thompson)
No Cover
Starring: Jessica Allen, Tony Carnevale, Tara Copeland, Kirk Damato, James Eason, Brian Fountain, Dan Goodman, Kate Hess, Will Hines, Mark Lee, Marc Liepis, Jen MacNeil, Maddy Mako, Shannon Manning, Ernie Privetera, Ari Scott, Andrew Secunda, Ptolemy Slocum, Shelly Slocum
The ETV Band:
Dan Goodman - Bass
Ernie Privetera - Keyboards
Lou Iacobelli - Drums
Terry Jinn - Electric Guitar
Featuring the songs of:
The Buggles, Prince, Thin Lizzy, Cheap Trick, The Who, The Kinks, Faith No More, Bon Jovi, Jefferson Airplane, Aerosmith, The Gin Blossoms, Yes, Cream, Kathleen Edwards, Bruce Springsteen, Journey, Night Ranger, Rush, and more...
Year of Yes! You gotta be in it to Jinn it!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
A Saturday of Singing and Wrestling
This month was pretty heavy with Year of Yes action. So much so that I've felt a bit overwhelmed with all these projects, fun as they might be. Irish Peddlers is done for now (although we could very well return!), and this Saturday marks two other performances that are worth noting...
1) In conjunction with Jen365's blog, I'll be doing a bit of the song and dance for a Big Splashy Musical. I don't want to give away any surprises, but if you come over to the Peoples Improv Theatre at 11 p.m., you'll have a good time. Or you can buy tickets here.
2) Afterwards, what better way to start off Easter than with some good old-fashioned comedy wrestling? I'll be over at the UCBW Arena at midnight for the biggest pay-per-view event of the year, WrestleSlamMania III. As always www.ucbw.info has all the info-mation on the PPV.
PS: Please keep the comments coming on the last post about eating - it's a pretty interesting discussion. Incidentally, last night we took Sarah out for her birthday dinner and went to a vegeterian restaurant. Again, delicious.
1) In conjunction with Jen365's blog, I'll be doing a bit of the song and dance for a Big Splashy Musical. I don't want to give away any surprises, but if you come over to the Peoples Improv Theatre at 11 p.m., you'll have a good time. Or you can buy tickets here.
2) Afterwards, what better way to start off Easter than with some good old-fashioned comedy wrestling? I'll be over at the UCBW Arena at midnight for the biggest pay-per-view event of the year, WrestleSlamMania III. As always www.ucbw.info has all the info-mation on the PPV.
PS: Please keep the comments coming on the last post about eating - it's a pretty interesting discussion. Incidentally, last night we took Sarah out for her birthday dinner and went to a vegeterian restaurant. Again, delicious.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
The Song of the Irish Peddler
About a month ago, Terry forwarded me somebody's request for musicians. Specifically, they were looking for a banjo player and an accordionist.
Now I don't know anything about banjos, but as I've mentioned before, I can sort of play the accordion. So I responded.
Year of Yes, you know.
And that's how I became a member of the fictional folk band The Irish Peddlers, who will be appearing in a show called "The Song of the Irish Peddler" this St. Patrick's Day.
I was actually pretty nervous going into that first rehearsal, because I didn't want everyone to think that I suck and then get kicked out of the band.
I don't normally publicly demonstrate skills that I'm insecure about (I guess most people don't). I'm usually very comfortable on stage or in front of a camera, but when I'm in a room full of musicians... not so much.
But it was a good Year of Yes task - playing accordion in front of other people is the only way I'm gonna ever get comfortable playing, right?
And it's been a lot of fun so far. Very challenging, definitely, but I'm exercising a part of my brain (and my hands and forearms) that I don't normally get to.
And the feeling I get from making music with people... it's pretty great. That sounds dumb, but you really get connected with each other. And it's not just listening, it's watching when strings are gonna get hit or chords are gonna be changed. Music is more than just the audible.
Anyway, I have a show on Monday. If you have no plans for St. Patrick's Day, here is one of many possibilities.
The Song of the Irish Peddler
book by BJ Gallagher, music by Chris Caniglia
Monday, March 17 at 9:30 p.m.
The Peoples Improv Theater
154 W. 29th Street (west of 7th Ave.), 2nd floor
$5
Now I don't know anything about banjos, but as I've mentioned before, I can sort of play the accordion. So I responded.
Year of Yes, you know.
And that's how I became a member of the fictional folk band The Irish Peddlers, who will be appearing in a show called "The Song of the Irish Peddler" this St. Patrick's Day.
I was actually pretty nervous going into that first rehearsal, because I didn't want everyone to think that I suck and then get kicked out of the band.
I don't normally publicly demonstrate skills that I'm insecure about (I guess most people don't). I'm usually very comfortable on stage or in front of a camera, but when I'm in a room full of musicians... not so much.
But it was a good Year of Yes task - playing accordion in front of other people is the only way I'm gonna ever get comfortable playing, right?
And it's been a lot of fun so far. Very challenging, definitely, but I'm exercising a part of my brain (and my hands and forearms) that I don't normally get to.
And the feeling I get from making music with people... it's pretty great. That sounds dumb, but you really get connected with each other. And it's not just listening, it's watching when strings are gonna get hit or chords are gonna be changed. Music is more than just the audible.
Anyway, I have a show on Monday. If you have no plans for St. Patrick's Day, here is one of many possibilities.
The Song of the Irish Peddler
book by BJ Gallagher, music by Chris Caniglia
Monday, March 17 at 9:30 p.m.
The Peoples Improv Theater
154 W. 29th Street (west of 7th Ave.), 2nd floor
$5
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