I Feel Pretty

Well, it is official: I am a professional actress. La dee da ti do re me….

I am pleased to announce that I have been cast as Maria in Island ETC’s production of West Side Story. And yes, as a matter of fact I DO feel pretty.

So for the next seven weeks I will be schlepping my rear end down to Galveston to rehearse Sunday through Thursday nights for my very first paid theater gig ever. I feel tired.

The show opens Oct 10th and runs for 5 weekends, Thursdays through Sundays, so I expect every last one of my adoring fans to find at least ONE of the 18 performances to come hear my Puerto Rican accent! Ay ay ay! I feel Latin.

In other news the Kitschy Kabaret was a hot mess of fun last night. (pics to come)



Not as many people showed up as had PROMISED (Jordan, this means YOU, and recompense will be required in the form of vegan baked goods or flowers for me to readmit you to the inner circle…) but we had a good turn out anyway! Devin and I totally winged the whole show, and managed to keep the room entertained. If we could do the show every week for a while it would be a real gas, but alas, alack, anon…with rehearsals and the upcoming holiday gigs, my raunchy cabaret dreams must be shelved temporarily forsooth, along with my cheap feather boas and black satin corsets, me thinkest. I feel Shakespearean.

The crowd seemed to appreciate my sense of humor, which was gratifying. The Jaded Princess set (a schtick about how the modern day woman, who tends to think of herself as a princess, would sing the classic Disney love songs with her modern experiences under her belt-full of irony and double entendre, just like I like it) certainly got a rise. I feel funny.

My favorite part of the night however was Devin’s original song Prom Date. Oh. Mein. Gott in Himmel. I was crying from the gut quaking laughter. I am going to record him doing that ASAP and post it. Clever lyrics, great music, funny musical jokes, and he’s so charming and entertaining; the room loved it. I feel amused.

This seems like the perfect segue into plugging HIS theatrical debut. The little turd found an audition post on craigslist, showed up and played (and sang) one of his own songs on guitar, and got the lead in a paid performance. First theater audition ever. Paid. Did I mention it was his FIRST audition EVER? And that it is a PAID gig? I feel repetitive.

Here is the myspace page for the show:


In the Middle of the Ocean



Book, Music & Lyrics by Chris Alonzo

Directed by Brandon Dinklage


AUGUST 21 - SEPTEMBER 6

Thursday - Saturday @ 8pm

Diverseworks Artspace



About the Show:
This is the story of Camilla, who abandons society to build a floating brothel in the middle of the ocean. Soon she gets involved with a well-hung ghost and eventually follows him into the depths of Hell in search of true love. Greek Mythology collides with pirates, punks, and clowns in this rock-n-roll retelling of “Orpheus.”



About Melusine Theatre Company:
The mission of Melusine Theatre Company is to develop and produce new works; to create fresh and bold interpretations of classic and contemporary plays, as well as rarely-produced works. With our youthful spirit and artist-driven approach, we aspire to become a gathering place for artists; to excite the imagination and nourish a lifelong passion and appreciation for the performing arts. Tickets for the event are available through Brown Paper Tickets, the first and only fair-trade ticketing service. All tickets are $15 General Admission and may be purchased by phone 1-800-838-3006 or by clicking on the link below:


I feel promotional.

I hope to do a little chronicling of the production and rehearsal process over the next few weeks. The biggest challenge will be logistics regarding my adorable progeny, so she may end up joining me at rehearsals occasionally equipped with game boy and gummy bears. I feel maternal.

Time to clean my house, pack for my dogsitting job (oh yes, there will be a blog about THAT!) bake some vegan cupcakes (Chocolate peanutbutter!) for a birthday party, maybe solve the world’s energy crisis, end poverty and battle oppression. I feel productive.

What do I want?

I am faced with that dreaded of all days, that annual unholy-of-unholies that has me feeling trapped, sick, scared, and depressed, and forces me to contemplate the true meaning of life and sacrifice:

Yes, my birthday is nigh.

I will be twentysmufflmfnmph. A goodly number, close enough to thirty to be taken seriously, far enough from it to be taken at all. Not that I view thirty in and of itself as an ancient age, I just have to think of everything in terms of my marketability. And an aging thirty-something singer/actress/go-go dancer is far less sellable than a fresh twenty-something, unfortunately. If I already had anything of note to my credits, age would be far less important. But alas, alack, anon, I have none.

Thus, the annual celebration of the unlikely completion of yet another year in my crazy life has me, as usual, contemplating the past, analyzing the present, and agonizing about the future. Have I done everything I SHOULD have? Am I doing every thing I CAN? Will I get to everything I WANT to do?

And then, that pesky question that haunts us all pops up to display its ugly head like a plastic gopher at Chuckee Cheese's, mocking me with my inability to bonk it soundly with my padded club: What DO I want?

The truth is, I don't want what I seem to be offered in terms of musical opportunities: church gigs and chorister opportunities abound. Too bad I abhor choral music in all its secular and sacred forms. The occasional small/medium jazz gig is making an ever more regular appearance in my booking schedule, and I enjoy those shows, especially the paycheck that accompanies them, which is typically higher than the average Church gig compensation.

So I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want...

Whoops. Didn't mean to slip into an ode to the Spice Hos...

I miss rehearsal. I miss 4 grueling hours in character shoes getting blisters and bashing the director in the wings. I miss the vulnerable feeling of stepping onto an empty stage, gazing into the dark theater, unable to see the eyes that are loving you, hating you, judging you, cheering you on. I miss that floating surreal feeling after the curtain has fallen and you are amazed that you are already on the other side of opening night. I miss the moments that have directors pulling their hair out. I miss being dead tired after a long rehearsal and still finding the mental energy to hear and integrate production notes the night before a show goes up. I miss the theater and all its ugly beautiful glory.

Marilyn are you still with us?

It is official: I am the latest comer to the impersonator field and Houston's newest Marilyn Monroe.*

Yes, that is me in pink and platinum.

Wait till you see the pro photos taken by one of the 7 or 8 professional photographers who were at this HUGE party.

The event was at Mosaic on Almeda, a new high rise apartment building dedicated to living the life of luxury on the extreme level.
Only one of the two towers is completed but here is what it will look like when all is said and done:

The space between the two towers is the 7th floor pool and clubhouse level where the party was:

I could not believe how the guests ate up the whole "Marilyn" bit. Everyone wanted a picture with her or they simply wanted to chat with her, playing along with the game. My favorite line of the night inspired the title of this blog. One flamboyant fellow complete with black crystal beads, sports jacket, boots, and an east Texan accent that could peel paint exclaimed upon seeing me: "Marilyn are you still with us?" This deteriorated into a discussion in relatively poor taste about pills and headaches. But the amazing thing was that EVERYONE wanted to play this little fantasy game. I was flabbergasted.

In all honesty, as I told Jon and Dan, the agents from J&D Entertainment who hired me (and groomed me) for this gig, I thought SURELY the folks in Houston would find the mere idea of an impersonator corny, but nay, twasn't so. I even got the obligatory "I told you so" in an email from Jon this morning. I stand-with-my-backside-sticking-out corrected.

One thing I was NOT prepared for was the way some of the men looked at me. There was a sparkly-eyed look some of them got every time I passed near them. Now, as a fairly good looking lady on an every-day basis, I am used to getting a glance here and there, but I suppose the fact that I was "entertainment" and therefore MEANT to be ogled, combined with the fact that I was dressed as many-a-man's wet dream made things that much more intense.

The gig was three-fold:
1) mingle with the guests in character
2) sing two fave Marilyn songs with a CD track, I wanna be loved by you and of course, Diamonds are a girl's best friend and Happy Birthday Mr. President a cappella
3) sing two tunes of my choosing with the band (It had to be you and Our love is here to stay)

This last part worried me a bit until I learned from the sound guy, Chris, that the band was none other than the fabulous and celebrated David Caceres Band.* No worries there. The only concern for me was that the first time I would sing for David I had to use the breathy quick vibrato Marilyn voice I had (almost) perfected. But in truth, the woman was a terrible singer and cooing like her is hard on the chords. I remedied the problem by singing for David later on that night in my "real" voice, swinging a little to Bye Bye Blackbird. I also had Joel Fulgham (drummer who played with me at Hotel Icon) give me a shameless plug to David...Thanks Joel, your check is in the mail, baby!

My fellow impersonators, Frank and Audrey had similar successes that evening. Frank was actually flown in from Vegas as there is no one in town that does this act. Shocking. Here is the two of us next to the living oscar statue...yum.

I found my nerves were absent before this gig, which made me anxious that they would hit at an inopportune moment, so I tried to PRETEND I was nervous to trick my way-too-calm head into getting it over with. This was a common problem (and attempted solution) for me in the classical world. At least I think it was a problem. I was NEVER nervous before a performance. If I was going to walk onto a stage I was simply going home and as I am a pro, (la ti da! Or la ti do, really) I am ALWAYS prepared. My solution: I found a quiet corner of a balcony and jammed out to Incubus in full Marilyn drag. Here was my view:

Ah! Love! If only I could get a flat here! But at $180-200k starting price for the 1/1 studio style floor plans, I think it is a bit out of my price range. Maybe if this Marilyn schtick takes off...and someone dies and leaves me a BAZILLION dollars!

*exclusively from J&D Entertainment

*book the David Caceres Band through one of the following agencies:

aMUSE entertainment

J & D Entertainment
Gulf Coast Entertainment

lessons I am learning

I was recently asked:

"Who are you?"

in relation to my performing, singing, etc.

Such a simple question, but what a landslide of emotion! This is the one thing that truly distinguishes a "singer" from an "artist." I was a little ashamed when I realized I HAVE NO IDEA.

I stuttered and faltered my way through a pathetic lists of excuses for why I did not know the answer to this question. I have spent the better part of 24 hours contemplating the answer. Don't get me wrong. I know who I am in many respects. I even know that I am capable of being whomever is needed for whatever situation.

The question was posed to me by my current teacher Ann Ostrow who proceeded to remind me: "Remember, an audience looks before it hears." She went on to talk about how they will decide who you are the minute you appear on stage and how MY job is to either fulfill or dispel their expectations. Or both.

She asked if I was: 1. ingenue, 2. sexy, 3. red hot mama. (what is the difference between the latter two, I wonder?) She asked what people see when they see me. OK. So I have to think like the audience, I get the lesson. Then she asked what I WANT them to see. Sheesh.

SO the question is not truly "Who am I?" but "Who do I want everyone to think I am?"

And with that comes the question: is the "who I am" and the "who I want everyone to think I am" supposed to be the same? Or am I required to have two different versions of "Me?" On stage and off? Wouldn't that read to the audience as a "fake?" Or isn't that just what acting is?

I have always thought of myself as a multifaceted gem. You can turn it every which way and see a new shape, a new color, a new part of the gem, but at the end of the day, it is the same hunk of rock it was when it got out of bed and drained an ENTIRE pot of coffee all by itself..whoops, I think I lost the metaphor, there.

Is this the answer? Or am I entirely too caffeinated to adequately convey the immense emotional stress this question has put on me?

Cream?

Yes I sing Opera

That line was starting to sound hollow in my ears after a whole hell of a lot of school and whole heck of nothin' special in the performance world. Truth be told, I found myself passionate about the music, but hesitant to grab the bull by both horns and dive in. Not my style, really, so I was left wondering why I was so reticent.

After an eye opening lesson with Stephen King at Rice, who told me I sounded as though I had been singing Jazz in a bar for the past two years between Musical Theater gigs, (remember I was singing classical music for him!) I felt liberated. Well, actually, first I felt lost and stupid for my seemingly fruitless scholastic efforts. I wallowed in self pity and self deprecation, toyed with the idea of law school, getting my MBA, or moving to Colorado to join a Naturalist Colony. A LOT of soul searching and wrestling with my preconceived debilitating insecurities, and a little help from my friend the baker, and I was...STILL lost.

How does one just shift courses in mid-stride? As a few of you know, (Paul English, Brennan Nase, Ryan Ogrodowicz) I avoided singing jazz like the plague despite my natural affinity for the art form and my OBVIOUS strong connections with a particular Jazz musician in town...(THANKS for the great last name, Baby!) I had had a weird drunken snafu at Ruggles many years ago and was convinced that everyone in town thought I was a hack. (That is how egotistical I am! No one knew me from Adam, but I was SURE they didn't like me! HA!) I was also obsessed with having a separate artistic identity from Paul. I was terrified of the stigma associated with "riding his coattails" so to speak, worried sick that people who asked him if I would be singing anywhere soon(after the Eb5 jam I sang at) were just humoring him and being kind about his silly chick singer wife.

When I was honest with myself, I admitted that musical theater was my true love. I always had to explain to my family that all classical singers are crossover these days...yada yada...I always assumed I would be singing the Lullabies of Broadway more than opera and it never occurred to me that this MIGHT be a sign...

Well, thanks to Glen Ackerman, I was introduced to Ann Ostrow who instantly adopted me artistically speaking. I am looking forward to Stuart Ostrow's MT Workshop in the fall and his Audition class in the spring. I am singing music in my lessons that I LOVE and it feels so good!

Jazz, I feel, is a natural extension of Musical Theater. I am always amazed at how many instrumentalists (at least my age and younger!) have no idea that their favorite tunes in the Real Book came right out of a Broadway show! The beauty of the jazz idiom is that I can sing these beloved songs with my own personality infused instead of the directed and choreographed vision of a director (holding equal merit for me, but a tad limiting).

Also thanks to Glenious, I sang my first gig over Christmas. I was a nervous wreck and really expected the world to crumble around my ears, but no, it went well and the clients were very pleased. I have no idea why Glen trusted me enough to pull that off, but he has always been very encouraging and complimentary of my singing, and I am going to run with that for now!

A random appearance at a big charity function in November led to the next three gigs and suddenly I was making money doing what I love. WHAT A CONCEPT!

The plan is to put together a solo cabaret with Ms O in the next few months. I will let you all know when that will go up. In the meantime, I have been instructed by same to "sing everywhere." Easier said than sung, but ok. Here I go! So if you see me out at a jam, and you are willing to have me sit in, don't let me chicken out! Put a mic in my hands and remind me that the worst that could happen is relatively mild compared to the prospect of never sharing my soul with others through song!