Career PROGESS!

The sense of fullness and happiness is almost unbearable.

Belmont lies cuddled in Stina's arms, and I am about to write a blog about how wonderful it is to pursue your dreams, and, almost literally, live them.

My career is feeling gang-buster-ey. I had several auditions last week, and while I didn't get the job in any of them, I felt happy with how they went, saw room for improvement in myself, and got positive and constructive feedback from the people auditioning me. I'm meeting weekly with a group of actors in L.A., and have made contact and will be meeting with other groups of filmmakers and actors around L.A. I qualified for The Groundlings professional track courses, and plan to take them in a few weeks. A children's theater company is interested in my directing a show for them. Finally, the subject of today's blog is about the amazing experience Stina and I both had on the set of Transients yesterday, where we performed as featured, if silent, players in a visually stunning and socially powerful movie with a target release date later this year.

I haven't mentioned it to the blogosphere before, but I've had an occasional recurring dream theme since childhood in which I am working as an actor alongside actors I admire but only know from their work. In general, the dreams tend to focus on what I can or should say or do in a professional setting to interest my fellow artists in working with me again. When I was a child, it was almost always Billy Crystal. Since moving to L.A., it has been a number of different actors, including Felicia Day of The Guild fame.

Two weeks ago, I answered a Craigslist ad looking for a stiltwalker. I sent the poster a link to my newly created website: www.andjuggling.com/brendan. The director responded soon thereafter (while we were with Stina's mom on our Disneyland Vacation, actually. Thank you, mobile phone internet!), and was interested in using Stina as a stiltwalker and me as a Living Statue in a scene set in an art park. The shoot was on location in Redlands, CA, about an hour away from L.A. by car, so we could only do it if the film could provide transportation for us. Rhianon Gutierrez, the director, assured us she would find a way to get us out there and back, so we agreed.

Jordan and Ariel arrived a few days later, and we had a grand time playing games with them, and talking about the world, puppies, kittens, and internet memes. Stina worked and I had auditions and interviews, but they amused themselves and Belmont while we were away. On Thursday, we went to the Santa Monica Pier and beach, and while there Michael, our CS friend from NOLA and NYC, called to let us know he was going to be in Los Angeles that evening. Later that day, we also learned that the transportation Rhianon had arranged for us would pick us up the night before and take us to a hotel in Redlands so Stina could be on set for a 6:30AM call.

Momentarily panicked, we asked Jordan and Ariel if they could watch Belmont overnight. They said yes, and, as luck would have it, that left a bed available for Michael to spend the night, too.

We had a nice, busy apartment for a few hours Friday evening, catching up with Michael and saying goodbye to Jordan and Ariel, who left the next morning for San Francisco.

At 9:45pm, our ride, Eric, one of the producers of Transients, arrived to take us to the Howard Johnson in San Bernadino. I felt like Eric looked out for us while on set, making sure we knew when we would be needed and looking for opportunities for us to shine in the film. He's also a director, and we talked about future projects of his on the way down...some of which might have a place for me. Stina and I shared a room with another couple, one of whom was the ASL interpreter for one of the PAs and the other of whom was an extra. We awoke at 5AM, grabbed a couple bagels from the lobby, and headed out to the set with Eric, where we met Rhianon and the other cast and crew of the movie.

Coming up in a moment, you will see Stina and me flip out with excitement. Rhianon is a very welcoming and capable director. She made us feel valued, respected, and like a part of the team of filmmakers who had been working on this project for almost a year. Rhianon took us around and introduced us to the ADs, the PAs, the make-up artists, and the cast. The woman being made up at the moment looked tremendously like another actor we had seen. A few moments later, Stina and I compared notes. We both worried that some ableist idea had reared its head. We saw one female actor in a wheelchair, and our brains jumped to the conclusion that she was the same actor we had seen in a wheelchair before.

We asked Melanie, the AC and an actor in the film (and UW SoD alum! We're going to her creativity jam on Wednesday.), if our brains could possibly be telling us we were, in fact, not ableist, and rather in the presence of unexpected awesome.

Turns out, we were in the presence of unexpected awesome. Stina jumped up and down a few times while I smiled broadly and gasped for air. Teal Sherer of The Guild fame had just shaken our hands, plays the lead in Transients, and was about to be in scenes with us. I immediately turned to the education my dreams had given me, preparing for this opportunity of a lifetime.

Between takes in the scene where my living statue character tells her Sandrine character "make your own story" with his eyes, I managed to overcome my shyness, tell Teal what fans we are of her work, and tell her how excited we were to be on the set with her. She responded with such openness and friendliness that we became friends. She told me a little about her production company and the work it does. I learned a little about a project her company did, which she called a "devised" project: essentially an original, ensemble-created work.

I think every serious theatre artist wants to do the same thing. Melanie talked about creativity jams; the Tiles project, before it was scrapped, was all about collaboration; all of Nikki's and Alissa's shows have varying degrees of original, ensembly goodness; and you know it's why I make theatre.

After my scene finished shooting, I visited Stina at one of the picnic tables, where she and the body artist working on her had been at it for three hours already. Tracy Kiggen and her assistant, Braidy Connolly, transformed Stina's upper body into a garden of flowers over the course of nine hours.Eric came by to let me know that the film would like me to walk on my stilts in the scene as well, and they'd be careful not to film my face so that no one can tell I'm the same actor as the red man from earlier in the scene. Poor Rhianon could do nothing about the fact that there was no costume for my stilt-ness, and we made do with my plain, old, un-artsy jeans.

Ali arrived and told me about Pazookies, a cookie covered in ice cream that everyone seems to agree is a must-try. Ali was Teal's umbrella holder and jacket placement expert. Yep, she had an umbrella holder. Such a diva. He's also her boyfriend.

Stina strode regally across the set. She waved her magic bubble wand and led the audience around the art park. Folks enjoying a day in the park asked for pictures with her. She hugged trees and maneuvered around sculptures as if she were born on stilts. You'll have to watch Transients to see it.

After a 12 hour day of being on set, we met Rhianon's family, and then Stina and I were driven home by Rhianon and Alex, the film's editor. Rhianon treated us to some In-N-Out burger. It was our first time at the legendary Californian restaurant. We talked about our visions for theater and film, and made indefinite plans to play games in the not-too-distant future. We made movie magic yesterday, and I'm sure we'll do it again sometime. I'm sure.

From discouragement to empowerment

We are reenergized, empowered, and enthusiastic, and let me tell you why.

Yesterday noonish we went out with our circle busk in Jackson Square. It was a beautiful day and tourists abounded (we actually heard it was a rather meager crowd for a Saturday, but it was the most buskerrific crowd we had yet seen this trip). We talked with a few street artists, and found an excellent spot to set up. I set out from our spot on stilts to gather an audience, and Stina stayed behind to amuse passersby. We gathered a modest crowd to begin of about 10. And we began. And everybody walked away. Ouch. We rushed through the rest of the show for the one remaining man, a street artist who had talked with us enough that I'm sure he felt obligated. Towards the end, a couple kids stopped by to listen to our stories. Families, however, had left us, so while kids may be fascinated by us and our everything, their parents are not... and parents generally dictate what their kids watch (and if their kids' entertainers get paid).
Whoa. $0 is discouraging. It doesn't scale well.
We offered our space to Alexander the Magician (see last blog for his website). We watched him operate in the same conditions we had. While he mentioned it was a slow day, he held a good 20 people's attention and convinced them he was worth several dollars each. His show was confident, competent and amusing.

Walking home that evening, and realizing how far our show was from even mediocrity, we outlined our options.

We recognized that much of our disappointment was caused by our nearly zero context for expectations. We had, we thought, modest expectations, but getting out there, we see that our skill set and audience interaction needs to improve 4-fold. And so we also reurned to the question of why we do this and what the payoff is.
In all its glory, our list of options:

1. Continue as planned (see last month's post for that plan)
2. Stay in New Orleans for 3 months and work work work to improve our skills and busking
3. Give up the busking portion of our plan and travel the world for the next year
4. Move to any city we choose and concentrate on our dreams (Brendan-acting, Stina-writing)
5. Seek out venues more attuned to our style of busking (e.g. Ren Faires)

A few of the above options had sub-option, like 4a (city= New Orleans, Brendan's Dream=busking)

Over the course of 3 hours we came to a tentative decision.

We slept on it.

Today we took the necessary steps to make our decision reality.

We will sublet Jocelyn's apartment (she's moving in with her boyfriend, Nate). We will follow a strict rehearsal schedule:
3 hours a day of Juggling and Stilt-walking practice 4 days a week
3 hours a day of content creation and discussion 4 days a week
2 hours of trickle busking each week
3 circle busks each week

As we improve, we will increase the amount of busking we do - there's nothing like practical experience.

Adventures in Busking

Stina’s Stories:

On Saturday we set forth, stilts in hand, for a day filled with parades, meeting theatrey people, and enjoying numerous festivals going on in New Orleans. I’ll skip directly to the latter part of busking we did that day. There was a fringe festival going on this past weekend, and they had an area set up as headquarters where people could buy tickets and t-shirts and perform on a stage set up there. We were told it would be open on a first come first serve basis beginning at 5pm, so at 4:30pm or so we headed there so we could hopefully be first and perform a shortened version of the show we did for friends and family both in Seattle and Wisconsin.

There was a show for kids in progress when we arrived, a rather bizarre puppet show. As we waited for it to end, the weather was getting colder and colder and a few people had started to leave. Miss Led, the woman in charge of the stage area, was eager for us to perform and hurried to announce our show as soon as the puppet show was over, and thankfully people stuck around for it.

This was the first time we had a significant number of small children watching our show and they are quite the rowdy crowd. When Brendan started telling jokes, the kids started telling jokes back. When I pretended the balls were stuck in my hand, two kids jumped up and helped pull them out. It’s great how directly involved they get. I wonder if adult audiences should be more like that. But it’s not usually the right way to behave at a show and would throw the performers off, but maybe we need more shows that get the audience involved.

After our show we received a lot of positive feedback. Misled offered to help us set up a show if we come to town again on our travels, and people were very enthusiastic about what we had presented. It made us feel great and ready to do it again.

On Sunday we set forth once more, this time to do some street busking. We made a sign that says “Find us online at ANDJUGGLING .com” and “If you like what you see, feel free to give a tip” with an arrow pointing to the side where we set our hat. We went to Canal Street, which is at the entrance to the French Quarter and is a popular street for shopping and where a lot of people get off the streetcar. We found a spot on the sidewalk that looked good, and asked the shop closest if it was all right with them, got the ok, and began.

Kids again helped make us feel great. These three kids came by with a man who may have been their father or grandfather walking ahead of them. They stopped to see us juggle and we offered to tell them a story and they loved it, and wanted another, and then another. We told a story about a doll that got revenge on her child because her child never played with her, one about Spiderman, and one about Paul Bunyan scaring away the hurricanes from New Orleans. The adult wanted to move along then, but first he took our picture with the kids, gave us five dollars, and complimented us on what we were offering to the world. These are the moments that make us feel like we’re doing just what we should be doing.

Shortly after this, we realized there was another shop very nearby that we should have asked permission of, and when we did, the shopworker basically said we sounded really obnoxious and it would be great if we would move. So we walked around the corner, but the spot didn’t seem very good. No one was stopping and fewer people seemed to be passing. So we moved on again, this time to Bourbon Street, which is always humming.

There’s a story at Bourbon Street I’ll let Brendan tell, but suffice it to say for now that the rest of our evening was filled with rather negative experiences. It seems very nearly impossible not to take these to heart as much as we do the positive experiences, which leaves me feeling somewhat confused. Why do some people really enjoy the stories we tell and our method of entertainment, and others not? Do other street performers get such immediate feedback from their audiences, both positive and negative? When I don’t particularly care for a street performer’s style of music or artwork or whatever, I usually just walk on by without saying anything. But we got a guy who responded to our question of “Would you like to hear another story?” with “Will it be better than the last one?” I did just say I think audiences should be more interactive, but I’d rather it wasn’t in the form of negative feedback.

Our two days kind of equalize, but we’ll try to learn from both. There is some good to be gained from negative feedback. It tells us something we’re doing is making at least one person uncomfortable and then we can try to figure out ways to make our performance accessible to everyone, even that one nasty person. I just hope the positive feedback will soon far outweigh the negative.

Brendan’s Stories:

Stina got a good chunk of it hammered out above, there, but briefly, some moments for posterity:

Saturday: Unreal! We began the day by seeking out the Fringe Festival Parade. We arrived at the cross streets where the parade was to end, no parade, no people. Had we missed it? We wandered up the street, along the parade’s scheduled path. Was there another St. Claude Street? This one was 4-lanes with a median... it didn’t seem like a parade street to me, especially since it had no people standing on the side to see the parade. Walking a few blocks more, we and two other groups of people converged on a street corner and realized that the 5 of us were all looking for the parade and were baffled. We parted ways, wishing each other luck with parade-finding. Further along, we overheard at a bus stop potential passengers wondering why the bus was late, and hypothesizing that maybe there was another parade... yes, in fact some woman had heard maybe there was something or other like that. We see flashing lights. We sit out front of the Golden Arches, and for one block watch a parade with a marching band, stiltwalkers, and odd accoutrements. Another couple, this one with a ballsy dog, watches as well. The parade passes in 5 minutes, and we go on our merry way.

We head on stilts to the Fringe Festival tent. At the cross street where the tent is meant to be, we find friendly theatre people gathered around a fallen antique circus tent. We help put it back up. When we return later to perform (as mentioned in Stina’s blog), we find no tent. It has been given up on. (This should not be taken as any indication of the organization of the festival, which was very well received from what we noted by the standing room only attendance at the show we attended Sunday night.)

In that in-between time, during which the tent ripped and fell out of our sight, we attended the book fair going on along Frenchman Street. After walking past much of it and running into Nate’s roommate Jo (Nate is Jocelyn’s boyfriend), we ate and went into a bar that had turned itself into an impromptu host of booksellers and artists. Towards the back of the bar, I casually happened upon a Ms. Rippey of Honors Croquet League fame, and member of the whole bizarre interconnectedness that is the University of Washington classes of 2002-2006. She came to watch our performance later that evening and authored the phrase of the night, “German Air-conditioner Vandals”.

After running into our distinguished colleague, down the street we made our way one block to the buskers on the corner playing pretty (Accordion, Violin and Tuba with Dog-style) music. At this folkpunkfiddle venue, we happened upon Lisa from the chocolate shop I worked at in 2004 dancing in the streets. She invited us to attempt rope-jumping with her and her pals. Stina attempted double-dutch unsuccessfully but with great verve. Lisa also arrived to see us at the performance space later, but after watching the around-the-world marionette show for 30 minutes, went to get her coat and did not make it back in time to see us perform.

We performed at a chainlink fence between these two bits of Seattle surreality, and received verbal accolades from pausers and passersby.

Sunday: Not as Unreal, but every bit at experience-ful.
In addition to the 5 dollars made from the positive man and his 3 children, we made a few dollars performing for the waiting crowd outside The Lunatic King (the crowd that didn’t make it in to see that soldout show) and six cents on Bourbon Street from a guy who wished he had more to give because he really enjoyed our show.

The story that Stina has left for me to tell involves badscaryness, so if you don’t feel inclined to know of problems we face, feel free to stop reading this entry.

In our attempts to gather a crowd (or, in truth, even one audience member) we advertise that we have stories for people. Most people respond pleasantly to our invitations to our hear a story, even if the don’t stop. A very few are belligerent as they pass by, but of no concern. Some others offer their excuses: “Late for work”, “had a rough day”, “am too drunk/high”. The in-a-hurry ones we don’t try to stop, mostly. But we do appeal to the other two for their interest. Indeed, we hope we are pleasant and uplifting, and so someone who had had a rough day could find their day improved by pausing for a moment. Even more likely seem subjects of alcohol and drug enhancements. After all, “why not?” is usually an apt reason when inebriated.

On such group of individuals passed us headed towards Canal Street, and one man amongst them said “I’m too high”. We let them be. But then they approached our area again. An opportunity if I ever saw one.
“So, you’ve come back for a story,” I asked.
“Too high,” was again the response.
“We’ve got stories for people who are high and people who are low,” I cleverly replied.
At this point the man in the group who had not yet said anything to us turned on me.
“What’s your story, man?” he growled, “where do you get off calling us high?” He put down his beer bottle and rounded on me. “What’s your story? Why don’t you tell me your story.” He held his arm out as if to swing at me.
I had very little response. “We’re just peddling stories. Go on. You don’t have to hear them.” I had a moment of clarity, but instead of using it to prepare myself to duck, I prepared myself to be hit. I’m not known for my quick thinking in a crisis.
Luckily the friend who had been telling us he was high stepped in. “They were just making jokes, man.” He put his hand on his friends shoulder and guided him away.
Phew.
A man from the restaurant came out and told us we had to go, too... or something... and then something about the cops, maybe... I don’t know. I have a hard time understanding people when they’re giving me bad news, I tend to just hear their tone. At first, I thought he had just come out to sympathize with us, but as he ducked his head inside, I realized that I hadn’t understood, but had clearly detected the tone people use when they’re worried about confrontation. We had been involved in a commotion, and were now a liability to that sidewalk space.

You know, I’ve always scoffed at the phrase “mean people suck”, but they really do.

On a more pleasant and recreational note, we got to stop and visit with Eric at the Starbucks on the way home from BloominDeals (where we hope to buy costume pieces, and which is closed on Mondays and at 4:50 every other weekday), and now we’re off to Marxist Monday with Jocelyn and Nathan.

P.S. ornamental peppers are edible, juicy, delicious and SPICY!! (painfully so, attests Stina; delightfully so, attests Brendan)

Rehearsal: We're getting there

Today we started with some 6-ball partner juggling, and found our rhythm and a new attention-getting starting-it-up getting in sync kind of thing. It's slow, this 6-ball partner juggling, but I'm hoping one day we'll have a major breakthrough, and it'll just happen.
We're making great strides in the field of stilt-walking (pun intended). Stina walked without me all around Jose (P. Rizal's bust), and then...

***Classified Information***Top Secret***
...and juggling.

And then! We walked home side by side on stilts. Yes, Ladies and Gents, we did. We're good. I mean Goooood. Be proud to know us, those of you who do. Stina, who'd never been on stilts before yesterday, is now navigating curbs and uphills, and I, who hadn't worn them for 16 years, walked down our whole hill to the ID today (and got many thrilled people waving!)

Love and juggling! (that's a command to love us, not a complimentary close, btw)

P.S. If you'd like to find out what happened in the censored areas, come to our show on September 27th at 3 pm in the Jose P. Rizal Park on Beacon Hill
Facebook will make you log in, but everyone's on Facebook nowadays anyways, right?

We are STILTWALKERS! (...and juggling)

It is done.

We have hefted our stilt-strapped feet once now, and there is no going back. It's much harder to be our height now we've tasted the sky.

Brendan:
We finally finished all stilt construction last night, and this morning we ventured forth. Eager to see if I could still do it, I bounded up, took a few steps, sank into mushy grass and fell (as one is supposed to) plop, on my kneepads. Oh it was grand. Next, not having yet discovered the cause of my unsteadiness, I ventured again into mushy ground... realized my mistake and mucked my way out, still upright on stilts, to the delightfully hard and uneven concrete. Eventually I made my way to the stage and juggled a little while up there. Hard to do... Juggling is pretty natural to me now, but even so it requires some concentration, and most of my concentration was on staying upright. No better place to learn than uneven concrete, though, and learn we did.

Stina:
Brendan got up on his stilts first and it seemed okay. Scary looking, but okay. So I sat on the table and strapped on the stilts and Brendan was ready to help me stand and I thought I was ready to stand and then I said "No!" And I couldn't do it. I was petrified. We went to try again and again I said no. And I started crying because I was so afraid. But then the third time, or maybe the fourth, I stood, gripping Brendan's hands with all my will to live. And still gripping his hands he said try walking in place, so I did, and I was still petrified, and then I tried falling, and that was okay. Second time up I was a little less afraid and third time more so and then maybe the by the fifth or sixth time up I finally started feeling good and was able to walk a bit by myself, with Brendan's hands at easy reaching distance. And now I know I can do it.

Last night we went to bed dreaming of roaring crowds filled with thrilled stilt and juggling enthusiasts, and it happened today. People are mesmerized by tallness. The man on the corner on his cell phone as Brendan walked home in stilts related the experience of seeing me second-by-second. He was fascinated (and gave him an extra 6 inches he didn't really have). The people from Pac Med on their smoke break put down their books and halted their conversations to watch us take a turn round good 'ol Jose P.

Mr. Rizal, I think, was proud to see us circle him.

Stilt-making

Well, we're making our stilts, and I've got some advice for all you stilt-makers out there:
1. Go to the source.
It is hard to find particular types of wood, and, not knowing much about wood, we wanted to stick with our recipe. Pine. Our instructions were adamant about pine (oaky, not adamant, but they were specific). Lowe's doesn't carry pine in 2x2. Nor does Dunn Lumber. Nor Martin's Lumber. Nor any one of about a dozen places we called around to. Finally, we found 2x10 pine at Blackstock Lumber. We bought our 6' plank, took it to Stina's parents' house, and used their power tools to rip it down to 2x2 sizes (which are actually 1 1/2 x 1 1/2"). This was REAL lumber yard. Most of the people there were contractors, and though they were happy enough to helps us find our relatively small amount of lumber, they were a bit too busy with large orders to cut it down to 2x2 dimensions for us (despite the fact that they do do that sort of thing... they said it would take a few hours to get to)
2. Know your sewing machines
Making the straps is difficult if you're trying to hand-sew. Stina and I spent an hour and got 1/48 of the way done, and I bent a needle in half. Then we took it to YTN to use their sewing machine, but apparently in the 5 years since I took my costuming class, I've forgotten some key element, and was only able to make a crooked line of thread appear on the Velcro and gum up the thread in the adhesive. We wiped everything off, and got out of there before I could break anything. We're going to the alterations shop in the morning to see if they can't make a professional job of it.
3. Do it in cool weather
We got cranky today around the jigsaw. Tense, tense situations, and one person has a power tool. Then we went back into the shade, and got along much more nicely. Kind of "cooled down" as it were. Get it? Get it?
4. Trust
At least I think that's good advice. We're following the instructions to a T, and I only hope it works. I last walked on stilts over a dozen years ago. I remember falling forward, and was indeed told, "always fall forward". But I can't seem to believe that the toe of the footboard won't get in the way of falling onto the kneepads, and nothing mentions that as a problem... so when I get up there, maybe it won't be a problem. I can only hope.
5. Share
There seems to be a dearth of practical information (and disagreements amongst the info that there is) on stilt-walking, busking, hitchhiking, etc. online. Is that because people who want to live cheaply and are amused by things like walking 2 feet taller than everyone else don't own computers or don't keep records of their activities? Not that there's no information, certainly not, but finding an answer to a very specific question is harder than for other subjects. Oh internets, don't fail me now! So this share advice is really for everybody else, but if we all share, hopefully some consensus will be reached on the proper way to do things.

In other news, not only is our name "...And Juggling", but we'd like to insist that people say it correctly. The key to pronouncing the ellipsis (...) is to say another word in your head just before saying aloud, "and juggling". Try it.

Rosencrantz: What are you doing?
Tom(thinking): Watching a movie and juggling.
Rosencrantz: What?!?
Tom: stacking boxes of shoes and juggling.
Rosencrantz: Say again?
Tom: finding a gentleman caller for Laura and juggling.
Rosencrantz: Did you say ...and juggling?
Tom: Yes. Yes I did. ...and juggling.

Brendan is signing off and juggling.