Only three more days of the show, so go while you can. Who knows when this play will be produced again?
Harvey Fierstein takes over as the new Zaza in NYC’s La Cage production:
An old friend of mine wrote a cover article for the Times Literary Supplement about the first hunger striker, Marion Wallace-Dunlop. What interesting about his research is that it’s not about her alone, but about the way she understood media – in her case, at the time, painting – and its relationship to politics. He writes:
Wallace-Dunlop’s innovation was to create a kind of political theatre in a prison cell, its impact more dramatic than any she could have made on the image of women in art.
Very cool article about a very cool woman – whose life occupies a nice intersection of colonialism, feminism, suffrage, political strategy, art, and theatre.
Transgender Legal Defense & Education Fund and PFLAG New York City invite you to Christine Jorgensen Reveals: A very special benefit performance supporting the work of Transgender Legal Defense & Education Fund and PFLAG New York City
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
7:00 PM to 8:30 PM
The Lion Theatre at Theatre Row, 410 West 42nd Street (Between 9th and 10th Avenues)
TRANSforming Gender 2008, the third annual trans themed conference here at the University of Colorado, Boulder, is happening tomorrow, November 7th. (This is the conference me & Julia Serano & Matt Kailey & Dylan Scholinksi spoke at last year.)
This year’s lineup includes Monica Roberts (keynote speaker), Krista Scott-Dixon, Michelle Dumaresq, Ryka Aoki de la Cruz, Andrea Gibson, and Katastrophe. You can find the schedule below the break.
A friend of ours works with a theatre out in IA that’s lost almost everything as a result of the recent floods, and like many others – they had no flood insurance. Worse yet, FEMA considers theatres “non essential services” and so they will receive no funding whatsoever to help them rebuild.
If you’re a theatre person, and you can help, you can contact them:
- Riverside Theatre, 213 N. Gilbert St., Iowa City, IA 52245
- (319) 338-7672
to see if you can make a donation, of money or stuff, to help them out. Right now they’re performing out of the local high school’s auditorium, as of course, the show must go on.
In case you’ve never heard of it, The Tranny Road Show is a traveling troupe of trans identified writers, performers, and musicians, organized by Jamez Terry and Kelly Shortandqueer.
The remaining dates of the 2008 Rocky Mountain Tour include:
- the Gay and Lesbian Center in Colorado Springs (Tuesday 4/22),
- University of Denver (Thursday 4/23),
- University of Colorado at Boulder (Fri.day 4/25) and
- Backroad Pizza in Santa Fe, NM (Saturday 4/26).
My students at Lawrence saw the TRS last year & loved it. http://www.trannyroadshow.com/ for more information.
… I put on a dark green leather jacket and my favorite pair of trousers and, with a copy of The Sun Also Rises in my bookbag, I went to my friend Peter Dee’s apartment where he was hosting a monthly reading group I’d started with a friend a few years before.
Unbeknownst to me, Peter had invited this actor who’d been living upstate who’d recently moved to NY with the intention of working at a repertory theatre and exploring his gender stuff.
The rest, as they say, is history.
(Happy Anniversary, beautiful!)
Our friend Angela Madden is opening a play she wrote – and performs in – tonight at the Connelly Theatre. It’s called C.E.O. & Cinderella. We got to see it before I left for Wisconsin, and I’m glad I did. It’s interesting, it’s funny, and it’s moving.
It also only runs until February 19th, so do get tickets as soon as you can. It’s being presented by the theatre company Betty helped form a couple of years ago, and their website has all the info you need.
Angela, break a leg. We love you.
I got this today from Ana in Brazil (the girl from Ipanema, you could say):
One last thing: regarding your mixed feelings about Betty’s transformation, one of the best metaphors for it was depicted in the “Beauty and the Beast” episode of Shelley Duvall’s Faerie Tale Theatre, directed by Roger Vadin. You know the plot: the beautiful Susan Sarandon is forced to live with the Beast, until the spell is broken, by the power or her sincere love, and — plim! — the beast becomes a Prince Charming (Klaus Kinski) so proud of his just-found looks. But she is unimpressed. “Why?” he aks “don’t you prefer me handsome?”
She replies: “I was in love with the Beast, I don’t know who you are.”
There’s an event happening in San Francisco (of course) called “Not Queer Enough” on June 27th. Among the speakers are people like Max Wolf Valerio & Julia Serano.
I wish I could be there.
My own feelings of being “not queer enough” I’ve mentioned at various times, usually when I’ve felt shunned at an event or gathering, or been made to feel otherwise square for being married or monogamous or heterosexual. Shoot, I’ve felt “not feminist enough” for being heterosexual & married, too.
& I’m very very certain that plenty of trans people feel “not trans enough.”
But not queer enough? What defines someone as queer? Their politics? Being visibly queer? Their worldview? Their haircut? Who they have sex with?
I don’t know. But I’d like to be in San Francisco that night to hear other people talk about their experiences.
Info about the event below the break.
Do you know when everything around you seems to be trying to tell you something? I caught Spiderman 2 on TV the other day, never having seen it in the theatres (because I don’t get around to seeing anything in the theatres), and I really really enjoyed it, except for that bit about him giving up being Spiderman & then deciding to be Spiderman again because it made me think about writing.
Then we went to see Ratatouille the other night – in the theatre, even! – and that was kind of about being what you really are, what you’re really good at. you know, “everyone can write.”
I mean cook.
I was talking with another writer the other day about an essay I was having a hard time getting at & explained that you know, when writing is going well it’s horrible, & when it’s not going well it’s torture.
But the thing about writing that’s the hardest on me is the uncertainty; this freelance life just isn’t good for my body. I want the stability back of having a regular job & a regular paycheck, except then I see movies like Ratatouille or Spiderman 2 and I think that I have to write. Not because I’m a genius, but because I know it’s what I’m supposed to be doing.
Tonight I’m speaking with LGBT community leaders at the New York State Museum Performance Theatre in Albany, NY.
Tomorrow (Sunday 6/24) at 2PM I’m doing a reading at the Borders in Albany.
Monday night I’ll be in Poughkeepsie speaking to MHVTA.
Come to what you can if you’re in that neck of the woods.
S. Bear Bergman is the author of Butch is a Noun, a writer, theatre artist, and educator who tours regularly. Zie’s book, Butch is a Noun, is one of my favorites of the past year because it’s funny, self-ironic, but full of a kind of combination of sadness and love that I found meditative and energizing.
1) I have to say that it was the title of your book, Butch is a Noun, that first caught my attention. Tell me how you came up with it, and why you chose it.
It’s both one of my talents and one of my, er, little problems that I’m a huge language geek. I love words, I love language, and I am always deeply satisfied when I can talk about something well, with good words. But I had a hard time, talking about butch. I would say I’m a butch, and people would hear I’m a butch woman or I’m a butch lesbian. Neither of which is comfortable, or accurate. I kept saying No, listen, I mean that I am a butch, as a noun, all by itself – not a modifier but a thing to them be further described.
For a while, I referred to it as The Butch Book, but I never really liked that as a title, it was just sort of a characterization – an internal shorthand. Then one day, I was applying for some time at a writers’ residency to finish it and when it asked for the project title I somehow just knew: Butch Is a Noun. More
Betty and I learned the sad news this week that the founder of the Jean Cocteau Repertory and one of the regular directors of the Phoenix Theatre Ensemble, Eve Adamson, died suddenly this week. She was 69 years old.
She started the Cocteau in the 70s in the East Village; she was the first to stage the Ballet Trocadero in New York. When Betty went to her to explain her gender issues, she didn’t miss a beat, and reminded us that she knew Candy Darling.
She was that kind of artistic person, a New Yorker who was around when New York was reinventing the world, & art, & culture. It was people like her who created the New York I wanted to live in. It seems somehow fitting to me that she would make her exit the same month that CBGB will finally close its doors; they were both of an era that is over.
But more than that, she was a woman who formed a theatre company in the 70s, when the theatre world was still very much a man’s world (which, some say, it still is). But there is no doubt it was in the 70s, and she did the classics – but always insisted on them being relevant to today’s audience.
Seeing her direction of Oedipus in the days after 9/11 with the actors intoning, “My city, my city…” brought that out a little too clearly.
She directed the last play that Tennesee Williams would see premiered in New York in his lifetime.
Without women like her, I couldn’t be doing what I do now. It is reassuring in her death to know that she did what she wanted to do for most of her life; she kept doing her art, she kept telling her actors to find their light, she kept breathing new life into classic plays and bringing whole new audiences under their sway.
Eve, theatre will miss you, New York will miss you, & I will miss you.
Her friends and fans are free to leave their own messages here.
But 25 years ago, there was a summer blockbuster whose female lead was anything but an afterthought. She was pretty, yes, and looked good in a slinky gown and could even run in heels when necessary. But she also knew how to hold a grudge. She had a mean right hook. And she could drink any man under the table — even the scarred brutes who frequented her gin joint in Nepal.
She sounds as cool in real life as the character she played in the movie, so our “summer movie” date night will be going to see Raiders on the big screen again, because a movie theatre in Manhattan is showing it on the big screen again. To hell with Hollywood if they can’t come up with good women characters.