Creative surge

The weeks leading up to Christmas were a frenzy of glass, flux and solder as I tried to keep up with orders for leaded glass snowflakes. I made 27 snowflakes this year, compared to 11 last year. This meant going into debt for a time, after buying supplies and waiting for people to pay me. (I might do things a little differently next year.)

I really love making unique glass creations, but the pressure of cranking them out en masse this year got to me a bit. I was happy with each of the snowflakes I made, but at points it felt more like a burden than an enjoyable creative experience, especially when debt entered the picture.

But now that the frenzy has subsided, the debt is gone and I have a whole week off (thanks to the generosity of my employer!), I have been experiencing a renewed sense of creativity, purely for the fun of it.

I put together a piece made of tiny glass scraps left over from a Christmas commission. They were too small and plentiful to foil and solder, so I glued them together. The entire piece is roughly 5x7. (I still need to clean it up and put a frame around it.)

The other night, I spent some time doodling, which I haven't done in months. I have a dozen or so doodles similar to this one. I had forgotten how relaxing it is to just lose myself in a doodle!

I've also gotten back to my harp, which has been woefully neglected since the Sanders show ended. Robb and my poor neighbor downstairs had to listen to me tune it for about an hour. (Sorry guys!)

Yesterday, I started working on a glass piece that has been in the "pattern state" for going on a couple years now. I really love this design and have a hunch that maybe some others will too... so I'll probably be making it a few times over. But I just might keep the first iteration for myself.

After all the pre-holiday artistic mass production, I'm somewhat relieved to know that my creative spark still exists. In addition to the poppies project, I plan to do some baking this week, and maybe a drawing.

I guess I'll be finishing out 2010 with a surge of creativity -- and ringing in 2011 the same way!

Merry Birthday

A week from today I will turn *cough*-ty *cough*. Darn this wretched chest cold!

Yes, I was born on a Friday, Christmas Eve, early in the morning (5:51? Mom, help me out here) and I'm quite certain there was snow on the ground, if not falling from the sky. I wasn't due until a few days later, but clearly I decided I'd had enough of the ovarian bastille.

And thus began years of Merry Birthdays.

Honestly though, I have to give my parents huge kudos. As a kid, they always celebrated my birthday on my birthday (we celebrated Christmas on the 25th). My grandparents and aunt and cousins would come over and we'd have cake and nuts and cookies and punch and the grownups would drink coffee and everyone would sing "Happy Birthday" and I'd open birthday cards and presents wrapped in birthday paper. And to me, it felt like the same celebration my brothers got. Well, except for maybe the tree in the living room. And the poinsettias.

Kids I knew talked about the post-birthday "let down," when the cake had been eaten, the presents had all been unwrapped and played with and everyone had gone home, and they had to wait until... *SIGH* ...Christmas to get presents again.

Let down? What let down??? I GOT TWO DAYS IN A ROW OF PRESENTS! GLORIOUS MYSTERIES WRAPPED IN PAPER AND TIED WITH RIBBON! TWICE IN TWO DAYS!

Who cares if I never got a birthday party with my friends because my birthday was on the biggest national holiday of the year and they already had plans with their families and our driveway and road were usually snowed in anyway and celebrating my half birthday wasn't really an option since everyone was on summer vacation!?!?!

Seriously, that second day of presents was premium. It didn't make any difference to me that it was the motherload of gifts for the entire year. It just meant I started counting down to my birthday and Christmas a little earlier than most kids. Like, in January.

Often throughout my life, people have -- and still do -- comment, "Aw, Christmas baby. Poor thing. Merry Birthday!"

So original.

But really, I don't mind being a Christmas baby. I haven't known anything else. All the important people in my life have acknowledged the day of my birth apart from the birth of Jesus. And I wouldn't even mind if they didn't! I will happily share the day and the spotlight. Only as an adult did I start to get "combo" presents, and I will occasionally get a holiday card with "Happy Birthday too" written inside. But I don't mind. Much.

When I think how easily my parents could have lumped my day in with Christmas, the more I appreciate the fact that they didn't, and to the contrary, tried really hard to make sure it was a special day for me. (Except one year when I got a riding horse -- the kind with springs -- for both birthday and Christmas, and it was the most favorite toy I ever got in my LIFE and I totally didn't mind and I named him Silver, like the Lone Ranger's horse. H'yaaah!)

So Merry Birthday to me and Baby Jesus and all others who share the day. It's not a bad one to have.

James Orchard Halliwell's adaptation of the familiar English nursery rhyme:

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on Christmas Day,

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

A "White Christmas" review worth reading

The Richmond.com review of Barksdale Theatre's production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas got me revved up. I disagreed with many of the reviewer's observations, several of which I thought were rather absurd, as I voiced in my recent BLAHG post.

However, this morning, I was thrilled to read a review on RVANews.com that FINALLY accurately describes the show that I saw a few weekends ago. I hope you'll take time to read the whole thing, but here is a snippet:

Kevin Earley & Freddie Kimmel - Photo by Aaron Sutten

You’ve seen the classic film ... And this season, you’re cordially invited to rediscover the vintage spirit at Barksdale Theatre with, if you can believe it, even more spectacular song and dance numbers than the film’s Golden Era producers saw fit to include ... 

Almost everything out of [the cast members'] mouths had the house rolling, and by the time the grand finale swoops in with the most elaborate costumes yet, you’re so amped up from the jokes, the reunions, the glitter, and the talent, you’ll fall gratefully into the holiday classic to end all holiday classics, “White Christmas” ... 

[T]he whole production is a wistful reminder that, in the Fifties, shows were just so dang elegant, comedy was so uncluttered, the clothes, good lord, the clothes. And, with its historic feel and intimate setting, the Empire Theatre is just the place to make the whole thing pop ... 

White Christmas does exactly what it sets out to do: provide you with a couple of hours jam-packed with holiday festivities. The show’s lone disappointment occurs when the lights come up and it’s time to face 2010 again.

Thank you, Susan Howson, for your wonderful description of what, no doubt, is in the heart of every Richmonder who sees this production, including mine.

  

Thankful

It is altogether too easy to forget how blessed I am.

I am sitting here now in my warm & cozy apartment in Richmond's beautiful Fan neighborhood, sipping freshly ground coffee, getting ready to hit the road to spend Thanksgiving in Maryland with my cousin's family......... and marveling at my fortune.

I have NOTHING to complain about.

I felt a little differently when I moved here five years ago. I didn't know a soul. I didn't have a job. I lived in an isolated part of town. I was terribly unhappy, and I sunk into a depression. Everyone back home in Minnesota kept assuring me that in time, I would find a job, friends, my place in the community... happiness. I was skeptical.

But they were right.

Over the last few years, I have come to love Richmond. I have a wonderful job with talented colleagues at two top-notch theatres, and two of the best bosses I've ever had the pleasure of working for. I've made some life-long friends and found a church whose mission I believe in. I met perhaps the biggest blessing of all, Robbie Jones, whose friendship and support helped me through some very difficult times and whose love I have come to cherish.

Of course I am grateful for a multitude of other things: a loving family, health, living in a free country, a roof over my head, clean water to drink, good food to eat, a car to drive, the list could go on for pages. And maybe it should. I am guilty of forgetting how wealthy I am, and when I stop to think about how good I've got it, I am humbled.

"Happy Thanksgiving" -- happily giving thanks for all the blessings in my life. And if you are reading this, be assured you are one of them!

A "White Christmas" review rebuttal

Increasingly, the holidays seem to bring out the Grinch in people.

I was reminded of the Grinch Phenomenon when I read Liz Jewett's review on Richmond.com of Barksdale Theatre's production of Irving Berlin's White Christmas.

Ms. Jewett is a thoughtful and eloquent writer and I often agree with her reviews. And while I didn't disagree with some of her observations in this one, I believe she inappropriately and needlessly inserted her own Grinchy commentary by attacking elements of the show that do not necessitate comment. Like the fact that a Christmas show is typically cheery and upbeat. No-brainer, right?

Well.....

Illustration by Robert Meganck

"'White Christmas' [is] an attempt at a timeless, feel good Christmas story. Yet instead of timeless, the play merely feels static and stubbornly anachronistic, largely because of its insistence on 'old-fashioned' cheer to the point of a sugar coma.

"There’s a world of honest, human emotion that 'White Christmas' could have tapped into. It’s a play about two veterans after all, men who have seen death and violence, only to come home to a society that honors them more for being famous than for having fought. Yet any hint at a darker world that isn’t bedecked in tinsel is smothered in a holiday spirit so aggressive it practically berates the audience into following along."

It seems Ms. Jewett might be expecting some coal in her stocking this year.

Um........................................................... 

IT'S IRVING BERLIN'S WHITE CHRISTMAS!

Bing Crosby, Rosemary Clooney -- remember?!

This production isn't supposed to be the holiday musical version of "Saving Private Ryan." It is supposed to be a festive, celebratory occasion where the characters are intentionally forgetting about death, violence and that "darker world" by singing, dancing, and romancing. Punishing a famous holiday classic for not being serious enough seems a bit harsh.

I sat in the audience the same night Ms. Jewett did, next to two patrons whose preferred venue is Hanover Tavern. However, they enjoyed every single moment of White Christmas at the Empire Theatre, and I frequently heard murmurs of "wow," "fantastic," "outstanding." I'm fairly confident that I can speak for all three of us when I say we didn't feel one bit berated. To the contrary, we let the holiday spirit fall upon us of our own accord.

Perhaps the most Grinch-like sentiments came at the end of Ms. Jewett's review:

"...holiday spirit only works if it's coming from a genuine place, an honest place, and 'White Christmas,' despite the best efforts of all involved, ultimately chooses fake snow over the real thing. And it insults the audience by assuming they won’t know the difference."

This is metaphoric, but only to a degree. She is, of course, making reference to the snow that falls on the audience at the end of the show. It is not confetti, but more like dime-sized foamy puffs that evaporate before they hit the floor. I (and everyone around me) thought it was magical. I heard one patron say, "It's snowing in the Empire!"

Did they think it was real snow? Of course not. Did they feel that the show's positive energy and Christmas spirit were disingenuous or contrived? Doubtful. Did they leave the theatre that night, thinking they had seen an outstanding Broadway caliber feel-good holiday production? Absolutely.

Photo by Aaron Sutten

Christmas is about giving and sharing, a time when people come together and celebrate, when lightheartedness and kindness prevail. It is the one time of year when we have permission to forget about the ugliness in our world and instead, focus on its beauty.

If this show gives people the chance to escape the pressures and demands of their daily lives; if it gives them a pleasant distraction from the reality of loss and hardship; if it brings back fond memories of holidays spent with loved ones.... then I believe Barksdale's production of White Christmas is successfully embodying the spirit of the holiday season, and I sincerely believe the majority of Richmonders who see this show would enthusiastically agree.

The good news is that even the Grinch discovered the meaning behind the hoopla of Christmas. So certainly, Ms. Jewett will as well.

He puzzled and puzzled 

till his puzzler was sore. 

Then the Grinch thought of something 

he hadn't before! 

Maybe Christmas, he thought, 

doesn't come from a store. 

Maybe Christmas... perhaps... 

means a little bit more! 

And what happened then?

Well, in Whoville they say

that the Grinch's small heart 

grew three sizes that day. 

And then -- the true meaning 

of Christmas came through, 

and the Grinch found the strength 

of *ten* Grinches, plus two! 

Two Nights in Rodanthe

"Our" house

Robbie and I had the fortune and pleasure of spending last weekend at a lovely beach house in Rodanthe, NC. The house belongs to my coworker Tracy's family and she was gracious enough to invite us rowdy theatre-types to experience the magic of the Outer Banks.

And it was magical.

The drive down was about as pleasant as any 4-hour car ride can be. Tracy, Lucas, Stacie, BC, Robb & I rode together in Tracy's minivan. The road to the house had been closed intermittently throughout the day, due to washout from waves remnant of a Noreaster. Lucas was driving (in the dark) when we got to the beach road. The first sign said, "Water on Road. Proceed with Caution." About a half mile ahead of that was another sign: "WATER ON ROAD. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION." (I guess they really meant it that time.)

It was quite an adventure plunging through several inches of water, in the dark, with fog, particularly when faced with oncoming traffic and water covering the entire road. But Lucas demonstrated his expert driving skills, which he no doubt acquired from his years touring the country with Theatre IV. We all arrived safe and sound and thus began our weekend.

View from the house

The weather was cooperative, the beach was beautiful, the house was spacious and comfortable. We all took turns preparing meals and each one was delicious. Robbie made gumbo on Saturday night that was one of the most delicious dinners I've ever put in my mouth. We played cards and Catch Phrase and were also able to enjoy moments of solitude to read, sit in the hot tub, or just relax and enjoy the salty air and the sound of the waves.

But the most magical thing that happened during the trip: we all got along.

L to R: Lucas, BC, Stacie, me, Robb, Jonah, Carlos, Sara, Tracy

No arguing, no bickering, no pouting, no sulking, no fuming, no yelling (except for strategic moments during Catch Phrase) -- it was truly magical. I don't know if it was because we all were so in need of a get-away that we were experiencing some sort of collective euphoria, or perhaps there is just something about the ocean that sweeps in the good energy and washes away the bad. Whatever the reason, we laughed and ate and drank and enjoyed every single minute in Rodanthe.

I will truly remember that weekend for a long, long time to come.

A love letter to the Sanders Family

It's 8:00 p.m. No show tonight. *SIGH*

Smoke on the Mountain Homecoming closed last weekend at Barksdale - Hanover Tavern. It was the third in a trilogy of shows written by Connie Ray and conceived by Alan Bailey about the Sanders Family, a traveling North Carolina bluegrass gospel group in the late 1930s to mid-1940s. The first show, Smoke on the Mountain, was met with great success in the spring of 2007. I was fortunate to play "Denise" in that show, and in the following two productions, Sanders Family Christmas in 2008-09 and Homecoming in 2010.

Homecoming has closed, the trilogy is finished... but I just can't stop thinking about these amazing productions and even more about the amazing people that I have gotten to play with these three and a half years.

I'm sure Bruce knew it was a gamble asking me to be in this show. I hadn't acted since high school, so for me, it meant creaking open the archives and refamiliarizing myself with the jargon. It also meant dusting off my harp-playing skills (which, at that point, I hadn't put to use in 8 years), not to mention the piano and guitar.

Drew Perkins, our Musical Director and "Burl/Daddy" in all three shows, also took a gamble. Bruce at least had the advantage of knowing everyone in the cast -- Drew found himself in a room full of strangers, all with varying degrees of musical ability. He was charged with the task of making us sound like we knew what we were doing. If the first few rehearsals didn't drive him to drink, I don't know what would.

But somehow (perhaps divine intervention?), we pulled it off. We had a great run of Smoke and formed a fast and tight bond with each other that became closer-knit with each show. Even though the trilogy has concluded, I am confident the friendship will continue until we all meet in that big round-up in the sky.

So now, on this first non-show night in seven weeks (and even though I have already told them all how great I think they are), I am going to take advantage of the extreme self-indulgence that is blog-writing to publicly love on each of the members of this family. I hope my 10 followers will bear with me. 

Julie Fulcher: My first Mama. I never tired of watching you go head-to-head in the scripture quote-off with Rev. Oglethorpe or interact with the audience during your children's devotionals. It was all I could do to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter each time you scolded me. No one can smash a Junebug with more conviction or let a Christmas tree fall on her with more grace than you. As Vera, you demonstrated your deep devotion to your faith, to your family and to the music, all with a twinkle in your eye. I miss the dressing room conversations with beloved Aunt Judy, and with you. "God has given us two gifts, music and witness." 

David Janeski:  It was so fun to watch the transformation of Dennis from bashful minister-to-be to confident ex-military preacher extraordinaire. Playful yet serious, you captured the essence of Denise's polar opposite twin brother while simultaneously evoking emotion that not only made the audience teary-eyed, but routinely choked up the cast as well. Musically, you demonstrated your astounding talent by becoming a pro on the mandolin and bass during the course of these three shows. Truly amazing. I'm glad to have you as my brother and friend. "I'm the boy." 

Kelly Kennedy: My second Mama. You also approached Vera with a twinkle in your eye and fire in your heart. Your sweet smile and equally sweet voice were contrasted with Vera's fierce passion for scripture and getting right with Jesus. While you will probably disagree, you joined the family and moved into the character with the greatest of ease, just like the expert actor you are. Your portrayal of Vera/Mama was seamless and a joy to watch. It was an honor sharing the stage with you. "And sin sends us where? Everlasting hell!" 

Billy Christopher Maupin:  Few people possess the passion, energy, earnestness and musical talent that you combined to create the perfect preacher of Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church, Mervin Oglethorpe. How many times did we hear from audience members, "Mervin is just like the preacher at the church I grew up in!" Your genuine care for your flock couldn't have been more apparent. Yodeling might not be your cup o' tea, but I'd challenge anyone anywhere to find a better Mervin than our own BCM. Thanks for the traveling company -- just watch those spurs! "Amen." 

Drew Perkins: Our teacher, our leader, our fiddlin' friend. I think it's safe to say that your gamble paid off. Three sold-out productions later, we have you to thank for helping us get there. Your stories and jokes and records and doughnuts made being in the dressing room almost as fun as being on stage. Your generous heart and playful spirit shined through Burl and gave the audience a glimpse into the man behind the character that the rest of us had the pleasure of getting to know and love. Thank you for being a constant source of laughter and a musical inspiration to all of us. "We are the Sanders Family Singers, from up around Siler City." 

Aly Wepplo: Hey sis. June... the good daughter. "We know." I've seen you in many roles, and maybe I'm a bit biased, but I love your June. Smart, pretty, and wise beyond her years, just like you. June's sensibility is complemented by a very real vulnerability, which endeared her to my heart, as well as the audience's. You also flawlessly portrayed her unabashed honesty and tell-it-like-it-is attitude, all with a gesture and a smile. I'm grateful to have had the chance to be your sister, and even more to be your friend. "We like to talk a lot." 

Eric Williams: Your portrayal of Uncle Stanley is the epitome of consistency. In each of the three shows, despite his gruff demeanor, Stanley easily won over the hearts of the audience, and his family. I think out of all the characters in our show, people relate to and empathize with Stanley the most, and you get all the credit for that. When Stanley speaks, people listen... because when Eric speaks, people listen. You are more talented than you will ever give yourself credit for. "Pleased to be here." 

And finally, to our faithful audience, I say, THANK YOU. Thank you for being part of the congregation of Mt. Pleasant, for laughing with us, crying with us, and for just being part of the amazing experience that is live theatre. Without you, it's likely some of us would never have met, let alone become such good friends. It was an honor to perform for you and I hope our family will have the fortune of welcoming you back to Mt. Pleasant again soon.

Much love,

Emily/Denise/Densie/D'nie
"I'm the oldest by four minutes."