Run Nekkid

Ya Hasta Luvs Ya Som Larry Dahlke

Cuz I Does.

Platonically, of course, and in a non-stalkerly sort of way.

Though I think maybe it would be good for Larry to have a stalker -- but a non-scary, casual sort of stalker, that respects his privacy, doesn't make him fear for his life, allows him to have a significant other without getting mad about it. Though I suppose it would be okay to post some "Oh, I wish he were mine" on their blog dedicated to Larry Dahlke. That might be okay. Occasionally send him cookies or a fruit basket.

See, last week I posted that "One Less Beer" drawing. Shortly after, Larry linked and posted it on his blog. Made me happy -- I love attention (actor, duh).

Larry, by the way, is an extremely talented actor. And he also plays umpteen different musical instruments. Yes, umpteen!

So check out Larry's blog (Larry's blogging somewhat regularly again, yay!). And Larry's website. And if you swing by Wayside Theatre, there's a good chance you'll see him in a show there (an excellent show for sure, because it's Larry and Wayside together). Consider stalking him -- gently. (Photo via)

Last Night's Hasty Sketch

That Frog

Here's that frog sketch. I never said it would be a good one.

monologues and headshots and frogs, oh my

1: Thanks, Proofreader. This biz seems to go in waves, and mine is currently in-between. At least I can see another one coming, but it's still waaaaaaay out there, and I am impatient and a bit irritable.

A couple of days ago went to a general audition -- a bunch of actors, a bunch of companies, we go in perform monologue and possibly a bit of song (3 min. limit), they watch. I felt good with my bit -- a Shylock monologue + 40 bars of Man of La Mancha. Good chewing-on-the-scenery sort of stuff. I did get a couple of unsolicited compliments on my audition. For certain, I proved that I can remember my lines and be very loud. I also volunteered to help out in the afternoon, which in this case meant arranging a few thousand headshots. My eyes were googly afterwards. These auditions always turn into mini-reunions, and I had the chance to catch up a little a lot of folks.

2: I've been looking at pics of frogs lately, for a drawing. Soon: bears.

i'm back, with beef

This is a drawing of the Horny Oamisoe.

I was avoiding the blog, because I didn't think I had anything interesting to talk about.

Then I avoided it because I had too much to talk about.

So I'll just skip it and move on.

Two days ago I had an audition for Iago (from Othello). (I also auditioned for Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew, but didn't find that out 'til I got there.) The Othello director rather suddenly had me attempt a difficult monologue with "Yooper" (upper-peninsula Michigan) and Australian dialects (they're both on my resume, because I've used them before in performance. But they're difficult to do without some prep time, particularly with a Shakespearean dramatic character). With an assist from exhaustion and a cold, my brain imploded. Yooper kept sliding into a sort of dopey Brooklyn. And Joe Pesci invaded my cortex when I tried to do Australian, and he wouldn't leave. It was a big, farcical tragedy.

By the way, Yooper sounds a bit like the dialect in Fargo, and goes with Iago like cranberry juice goes with Bailey's Irish Cream. It doesn't.

But you know what? This had had nothing to do with my ability to play the role. If she was testing a concept idea, she should have said so, and I should have been given more time to wrap my head around it. If she wanted to see if I was willing to jump in with both feet, it should have had something to do with the project. I'm willing to test ideas, even if they may seem absurd, but I've come to the conclusion that she didn't want to audition me as an actor at that point, she wanted to audition me as a circus monkey.

Some previous audition entertainment: Abruptly having to do a monologue "with a Scottish dialect, like you're riding a horse." The director who showed up in a dirty t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, and read through the resumes without ever looking up at the actors performing the monologues. The director who showed up half an hour late without any explanation and then wanted a song (the play featured no singing whatsoever). The callback for a musical that (after a two-hour drive to get to the theatre) turned into an audition not for a musical but for the play Art. The director who asked for a dialect in advance, then changed his mind onsite for the sake of the one performer who was incapable of doing a decent dialect (absolutely required by the play) but who had just the right "look". (This performer practically assaulted the reader at the audition, which didn't seem to bother the director, either.)

Sometimes I hate this business.

Question: What Does It Take To Get Me In A Suit?

Answer: Either I'm attending a wedding, or someone's paying me. In this case someone's paying me.

Friday's Cumberland Times-News has a little article (not a review, basically a "here's what's playing") about Ten Little Indians -- Click HERE for the article, and HERE to see the whole picture.

I'm Bloody Everywhere!

I'm one step closer to becoming theatrically ubiquitous (meaning, I've made it two steps):

1) Playing Dr. Edward Armstrong in Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians, opening today in Cumberland, MD.

2) Fight choreographer for Maryland Ensemble Theatre's Macbeth, opening on the 19th in Frederick, MD.

So if you happen to be planning a visit to Antietam, bookend your historical bloody violence with some fictional bloody violence.

Dangerous Do-Rags

In last night's rehearsal at MET, we put together the bulk of the fight / violence choreography. Included: various knives, a crowbar, a baseball bat, an axe, a metal pipe, a piece of cinder block, and a bandanna. Yes, a bandanna. Death by bandanna.

Necessities: Food, Shelter, Clothing, Megayacht.

Quote of the day: “Today, a megayacht is indispensable,” said Olivier Milliex, head of yacht finance at the Dutch bank ING. “It’s not like 15 years ago, when a yacht was a luxury item.” (found in the New York Times) Yachts nowadays are reaching over 100 meters in length, and come with amenities like helicopters and minisubs. And many are registered foreign countries, to save on taxes and Soc. Sec. payments for crew members. Because, I guess, money's tight for your average megayacht owner.

Had another day working with the Secret Service last week. The thing I find most interesting about it is that non-Sec. Serv. people like myself can not go anywhere without an escort. I know, duh, that's to be expected. But it's weird when you have to ask to go to the bathroom, and an employee has to go with you (at least they don't go in to the bathroom with you).

I am also now working as a fight choreographer, for a production of Macbeth at the Maryland Ensemble Theatre. Looks to be a neat production, the characters are bikers -- so no swords; rather, Crowbars, baseball bats, knives, yee-ha! And the director, Peter Wray, has given the production an interesting twist (sorry, I'm not telling!).

Yesterday, along before an evening rehearsal with MET, I also had a video shoot -- nothing grand, some background extra work on a commercial. A long day, though, but it's good to be working.

And I'm gearing up to head to Cumberland Theatre in a week for Ten Little Indians.