Mouth 3, Dave 0

Two canker sores this week, and now I have a major tongue cramp. Tongue cramp? Who the hell gets a tongue cramp?

Me. And ouch.

Act V

Well, I just spent the last 30 minutes or so sobbing, while attempting to, you know, do my job. Maybe the rule to take away from this is: don't listen to This American Life while at work.

This week's episode -- which I've heard before and which still got this reaction out of me -- is called Act V.

We devote this entire episode to one story: over the course of six months, reporter and TAL contributor Jack Hitt followed a group of inmates at a high-security prison as they rehearsed and staged a production of the last act—Act V—of Hamlet. Shakespeare may seem like an odd match for a group of hardened criminals, but Jack found that they understand the Bard on a level that most of us might not. It's a play about murder and its consequences, performed by murderers living out the consequences.

Get them handkerchiefs ready.

The journalist/reporter/narrator of the story is Jack Hitt. I'm turning out to be quite a fan of his. After reading his essay "Mighty White of You" in Harpers Magazine (you can read it online if you're a subscriber (which is worth it) or if you, um, email me and ask nicely) I purchased his book Off the Road: A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim's Route Into Spain.

Get some Jack Hitt in your life, people. You'll be glad you did.

Chess'd! Review

For archiving purposes, I'm putting up the www.nytheatre.com review of my play "Chess'd!" that I produced this summer for the breedingground Spring Fever Festival '07.

For what it's worth, I think this review is fair and, ultimately, correct in its criticism. It's nice to read a review of something that I wrote and think, "Oh, the reviewer totally got it: its faults, and its SHEER EFFING GENIUS."

I'm fairly certain that, barring a cosmic event, I'll never ever produce a play ever again. I like acting. I really like directing. I love writing. Producing? Egads. Count me out.

Now I'm going to go find out if anybody has pictures of this show anywhere.

nytheatre.com review

Daniel Kelley · May 19, 2007

Chess'd! is a comic romp through the absurd and hilarious world of a ninja and a man in a white tuxedo playing a game of epic, life-sized chess. The players, both eager for victory, quickly disregard all the rules of the game in favor of doing everything in their power to destroy the other. It is only then, as the ninja and the man in the white tuxedo spin out of control, that a mysterious man with a Southern accent appears from nowhere, with a team of incompetent medics that changes everything.

Chess'd! succeeds most as a straight-up comedy. The clever, at times ingenious comic writing, combined with dead-on performances, direction, and design help make Chess'd! hilarious from start to finish. It succeeds less as an allegory for the abuse of power. A lack of clarity as to what each character represents, and how the world around them works, leaves the symbolism of the play unclear.

As a comedy, however, the play is without reproach. David McGee's writing is crisp, specific and clever. The individual gags are carefully constructed and expertly executed, whether it's "The Man's" increasingly lengthy and involved calls to Jesus Christ, the double-dialogue between the Ninja and White Tuxedo as they sheepishly attempt to explain their carnage, or (perhaps the funniest moment in the play) when the irate "Man" gets the wrong kind of coffee.

Deena Selenow's direction provides an excellent frame for the talented ensemble. Owen O'Malley is solid, and at times endearing, as White Tuxedo. Pearce Larson as The Man and Joby Earle as Ninja do a skillful job of fully committing to the language and style of the piece. Though Larson enters later on, his performance commands the second half and delivers the single funniest moment in the entire play. Joshua William Gelb's set and Denise Maroney's costume design manage the epic scope of the piece with simple yet imaginative choices that work well, and accentuate the fun theatricality of the piece.

But where the fun is supposed to give way to symbolism, confusion prevails. While Ninja and White Tuxedo do everything in their power to destroy each other, I remained unclear as to how their actions affect the world around them. While I enjoyed their battling and laughed my way through it, it didn't feel resonant with the current state of affairs in the world. It felt as though the play was being funny for the sake of being funny, which was something I thought it did very well, and I was wiling to accept it at that.

However, the sense of how this play relates to the real world, and what exactly the play is trying to say, becomes more important as the play progresses. McGee (to his credit) seems intent on making the play something more than the absurd comedy we are initially presented with. However, McGee's world beyond the absurd is somewhat muddled, and the symbolism indecisive. I was uncertain what role the medics have in the world of the play, and what they were meant to represent. I was uncertain why the Ninja and White Tuxedo were so different from them and why they had to escape them. The epilogue, given by "Other Medic", attempts to clarify what has come before, and to give it some weight. The writing is strong, but the conclusion's somber tone is jarring considering what has occurred previously; it feels tacked on. However, the very last line returns the play to its absurd core, and causes the audience to burst out laughing once again.

Invincible Cities

I found out about Camilo José Vergara’s photography here, at the New York Times' "City Room" blog. And now, verily, I am a fan. Vergara is chronicling "urban change" in three communities: Richmond, California; Camden, New Jersey; and Harlem. Where I live. Yesterday's post featured the exterior of my building in 1987. Not much has changes since then (landmarked status, baby!) but there are now trees in the avenue's median. And the cars parked outside are newer. Slightly. Those metal fences you see in this shot are new, though. They are much better than rotting chain link. There are now very bright security lights and security cameras now, as well as 24 hour 2-guard patrol. Which is nice. All of that is nice. I'm not complaining.

But something else comes with those kinds of changes. Something... maybe not so nice.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing about Vergara's project is that he has taken photographs of the same buildings or storefronts over a period of years to chronicle how neighborhoods change over time. For instance, the website features over 20 pictures of 65 E. 125th Street, taken between 1977 and 2007, which illustrate its metamorphosis over the past 30 years from an empty but charming storefront into a bright & shiny Sleepy's Matress Store. It's been a chip shop, a bodega, and much else along the way.

Yes, it's gentrification. Or civic beautification. Or something. It's definitely... complicated. It's nice to have services around home, yes. But... but...

Look. A few blocks from where I live, the corner of 145th Street and Frederick Douglass Blvd. has undergone an unbelievable change. It's almost incredible. Gentrification, you have been photographed. Here's the corner in 1998.
Here is the same corner--no shit--today.
We've got a Starbucks now, people. I'm sure another one will open right across from it soon.

Haarlem!

Hey look! I live here!