Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Theatre Reviewer: Paper Bird
As Megan and I sat in anticipation on the lawn of the Arvada Center's amphitheatre for Paper Bird and Ballet Nouveau, we had no idea what to expect. Neither of us had heard of the band, nor had we ever seen the ballet performers. What we did know was that we were holding two very cheap tickets (thanks to the employee discount, they cost next to nothing) and that we were prepared to enjoy ourselves (Megan having bought herself a beer and for myself, a vodka lemonade).
The eclectic group of audience members seemed a bit more clued in as to what we were about to witness, though who knows, maybe they were just excited for the first concert of the summer. Either way, the band was greeted with uproarious cheers and applause and there seemed to be a hushed suspense as the first dancer walked gracefully onstage.
Me in front of the Ballet Nouveau tent.
The band (consisting of, among other things, a banjo player, a trumpet player, and three female singers) has a real indie feel to it. Think The Decemberists with a little bit of Regina Spektor. Their harmonies blended beautifully and I found myself enamored by the sing-song lyrics and intricate compositions.
Complimenting that folk genre, the ballet dancers were dressed accordingly. The men in fall colored argyle, the woman in flowy, tea length dresses.
What really made the evening "genre defying" (as the advertisement so eloquently put it)was the pure imagination in composing such a show. Folk music and ballet aren't two things that you are likely to see combined, so to see such a professional group of dancers paired with the folky/alternative band was truly unique.
Recognition should be given to the choreographer of the numbers, who mixed classic ballet with a little bit of country flair. The formations were unique and eye-pleasing, blending an even balance of quick movement and more flowing,vulnerable numbers. I especially liked when the dancers synchronized their clapping with the band's intermittently between powerful dance poses.
All in all, the evening's entertainment was refreshing and feel-good. Listening to the final encore performance "Carry On," pleasantly reminded me that summer had surely arrived.
Megan holding her ticket
The eclectic group of audience members seemed a bit more clued in as to what we were about to witness, though who knows, maybe they were just excited for the first concert of the summer. Either way, the band was greeted with uproarious cheers and applause and there seemed to be a hushed suspense as the first dancer walked gracefully onstage.
Me in front of the Ballet Nouveau tent.
The band (consisting of, among other things, a banjo player, a trumpet player, and three female singers) has a real indie feel to it. Think The Decemberists with a little bit of Regina Spektor. Their harmonies blended beautifully and I found myself enamored by the sing-song lyrics and intricate compositions.
Complimenting that folk genre, the ballet dancers were dressed accordingly. The men in fall colored argyle, the woman in flowy, tea length dresses.
What really made the evening "genre defying" (as the advertisement so eloquently put it)was the pure imagination in composing such a show. Folk music and ballet aren't two things that you are likely to see combined, so to see such a professional group of dancers paired with the folky/alternative band was truly unique.
Recognition should be given to the choreographer of the numbers, who mixed classic ballet with a little bit of country flair. The formations were unique and eye-pleasing, blending an even balance of quick movement and more flowing,vulnerable numbers. I especially liked when the dancers synchronized their clapping with the band's intermittently between powerful dance poses.
All in all, the evening's entertainment was refreshing and feel-good. Listening to the final encore performance "Carry On," pleasantly reminded me that summer had surely arrived.
Megan holding her ticket
An Awesome day
Yesterday began promptly at 9:00 a.m. with the techno tune of my cell phone alarm clock (I need a new phone). I was reminded by Megan that I had to meet at her house at 10 a.m. as we were carpooling to Littleton, meaning I was running late ( I still had to pick up orange juice from King Soopers).
I quickly straightened my hair and headed out the door, stopping to get orange juice on the way. From there, Megan and I headed to Littleton. I-70 was extremely backed up due to construction, so we ended up taking Kipling.
Upon arriving at Lauren's house for book club, we deposited our orange juice and champagne and hungrily eyed the table's delicious offerings. Fruit and yogurt parfaits topped with whip cream, fruit salad, bagels with cream cheese and muffins. I lathered some cream cheese on a plain bagel, made myself a mimosa, and then sat down to discuss this month's book, Water for Elephants.Admittedly, I had only read about half of the book. However, I found that some of my most interesting feedback came from reading the interview with the author from the back of the book. This probably spawned from my most recent trend toward reading, nonfiction. The journalist in me screams with joy for anything biographical, factual, timelined (The book Columbine by Dave Cullen being a great example of this kind of journalistic piece.)
After some good laughs and non-related book talk with the girls, Megan and I were off for our next gathering: Jordan's bridal party. Tom-Tom ended up leading us to a gated community that we obviously couldn't get through, so we drove in circles for a little while before finding our way. Again, greeted by a big group of ladies, we were at once prompted to load up our plate with finger foods: veggies with artichoke dip, strawberries, Hershey kiss cookies, and chips. Food in hand, we sat down to enjoy the protocol bridal games. Megan and I did not know what color the groom's eyes were, and guessed wrong as to what the word bride meant in old English (cook), so did not get to take home any of the prizes. We got over our losses quickly and watched as Jordan began pulling the multi-colored tissue paper from boxes and bags gathered at her feet.
Her mom then passed out mini angel food cakes covered in Strawberry whip cream frosting. Belly full at this point, most of the ladies began saying their goodbyes. Megan and I hung back so as to catch up with Jessica and Jordan, the latter having spent the last 6 months in Nicaragua. We had a good time meeting Jordan's four chickens and talking about the anticipated wedding.
Again, Megan and I had places to be so we said goodbye to our friends and were on our way again. Finding ourselves laden with hunger was surprising considering the bombardment of food we had experienced at the day's social gatherings. Still, we decided to stop at Ruby Tuesdays where I enjoyed a trip to the salad bar and a mini turkey burger.
Then it was time for Paper Bird. For Theatre Review see above.
I quickly straightened my hair and headed out the door, stopping to get orange juice on the way. From there, Megan and I headed to Littleton. I-70 was extremely backed up due to construction, so we ended up taking Kipling.
Upon arriving at Lauren's house for book club, we deposited our orange juice and champagne and hungrily eyed the table's delicious offerings. Fruit and yogurt parfaits topped with whip cream, fruit salad, bagels with cream cheese and muffins. I lathered some cream cheese on a plain bagel, made myself a mimosa, and then sat down to discuss this month's book, Water for Elephants.Admittedly, I had only read about half of the book. However, I found that some of my most interesting feedback came from reading the interview with the author from the back of the book. This probably spawned from my most recent trend toward reading, nonfiction. The journalist in me screams with joy for anything biographical, factual, timelined (The book Columbine by Dave Cullen being a great example of this kind of journalistic piece.)
After some good laughs and non-related book talk with the girls, Megan and I were off for our next gathering: Jordan's bridal party. Tom-Tom ended up leading us to a gated community that we obviously couldn't get through, so we drove in circles for a little while before finding our way. Again, greeted by a big group of ladies, we were at once prompted to load up our plate with finger foods: veggies with artichoke dip, strawberries, Hershey kiss cookies, and chips. Food in hand, we sat down to enjoy the protocol bridal games. Megan and I did not know what color the groom's eyes were, and guessed wrong as to what the word bride meant in old English (cook), so did not get to take home any of the prizes. We got over our losses quickly and watched as Jordan began pulling the multi-colored tissue paper from boxes and bags gathered at her feet.
Her mom then passed out mini angel food cakes covered in Strawberry whip cream frosting. Belly full at this point, most of the ladies began saying their goodbyes. Megan and I hung back so as to catch up with Jessica and Jordan, the latter having spent the last 6 months in Nicaragua. We had a good time meeting Jordan's four chickens and talking about the anticipated wedding.
Again, Megan and I had places to be so we said goodbye to our friends and were on our way again. Finding ourselves laden with hunger was surprising considering the bombardment of food we had experienced at the day's social gatherings. Still, we decided to stop at Ruby Tuesdays where I enjoyed a trip to the salad bar and a mini turkey burger.
Then it was time for Paper Bird. For Theatre Review see above.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The Theatre Reviewer
I am proud to bring to you a portion of the Intelligent Nut that I am very excited about: The Theatre Reviewer
I go see a ton of theatre. It is probably the most interesting part of my life. I decided to blog about it. So without further ado...
This past weekend I went to Heritage Square Music Hall. My friend Sara runs the ticket booth at the little dinner theatre located in Golden and gave me the "friends and family discount," making my experience all the more enjoyable.
Me (left), and the actors of the show
It had been awhile since I had been to that theatre, so stepping through the door felt like I was walking backward in time. The ambience was just how I remembered it; cute, homey and greeted with a feeling that you had just walked into a saloon from the 1800's.
This evening's show was a review. I am not usually a fan of reviews, but was excited for this one as I thought it the perfect space to accommodate a fun, laid back night of popular songs.
They started out the evening with "'Ol Man River" from Showboat. The rendition wasn't the most moving I had ever seen, which was somewhat disappointing considering that the piece lends itself well to a powerhouse performance. Luckily, the actors move quickly from one song to the next, so we were able to forgive and forget as the actors segwayed into a more fun, company appropriate number. The players hit the Mommas and the Papas right on the dot and also did justice to several of the past 50 years' television show themes (my favorite number of the evening).
Overall, the night was a pendulum balance of hit and miss. The company would be much better off by cutting out the "bring down the house numbers" such as "Seasons of Love" from Rent and sticking with the more humorous numbers such as "Atheists have no songs." When the company starts cha chaing through the audience, pulling an unsuspecting "piano teacher Magillicutty" up onto the stage, you begin to remember why you walked through the curtain-drawn door: To sit back, have a good old shirley temple, and sing along. Not because it's the cool thing to do, but because it's fun.
I go see a ton of theatre. It is probably the most interesting part of my life. I decided to blog about it. So without further ado...
This past weekend I went to Heritage Square Music Hall. My friend Sara runs the ticket booth at the little dinner theatre located in Golden and gave me the "friends and family discount," making my experience all the more enjoyable.
It had been awhile since I had been to that theatre, so stepping through the door felt like I was walking backward in time. The ambience was just how I remembered it; cute, homey and greeted with a feeling that you had just walked into a saloon from the 1800's.
This evening's show was a review. I am not usually a fan of reviews, but was excited for this one as I thought it the perfect space to accommodate a fun, laid back night of popular songs.
They started out the evening with "'Ol Man River" from Showboat. The rendition wasn't the most moving I had ever seen, which was somewhat disappointing considering that the piece lends itself well to a powerhouse performance. Luckily, the actors move quickly from one song to the next, so we were able to forgive and forget as the actors segwayed into a more fun, company appropriate number. The players hit the Mommas and the Papas right on the dot and also did justice to several of the past 50 years' television show themes (my favorite number of the evening).
Overall, the night was a pendulum balance of hit and miss. The company would be much better off by cutting out the "bring down the house numbers" such as "Seasons of Love" from Rent and sticking with the more humorous numbers such as "Atheists have no songs." When the company starts cha chaing through the audience, pulling an unsuspecting "piano teacher Magillicutty" up onto the stage, you begin to remember why you walked through the curtain-drawn door: To sit back, have a good old shirley temple, and sing along. Not because it's the cool thing to do, but because it's fun.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
And Some more...
I don't know if anyone ever even reads this stuff, but if you do:
Here is another blurb from a story I've been working on. Notice how much I borrow from other things that I have written:
“One day, I was lying in my father’s haystack blowing bubbles with my gum and thinking about how terribly bored I was. My father, a hard working man, yelled at me. “Quit lying around and dig some dirt!” he said and I lashed out against him. “You dig and dig and nothing comes of it!” I yelled at my father. “Why you could just as easily sit around and blow bubbles in haystacks and the sun would rise just the same!” Well then my father did something that shook me to the core. You see, he was a tough man who barely wore expression. You can imagine my shock when the man began to cry. He was sobbing and sobbing and tears were running down his face. It terrified me. Probably more than if he had thrown the shovel at me. And then he said something that I had never heard him say to anyone. He said, “you’re right.” After that, I knew that I couldn’t stay. We both knew the lie we were living and if I were to stay, we would both be in on it. I packed my bags and headed out the door the next morning."
“The next two years were a mixture of deception, cunning and cheat. I could lie and manipulate myself into any situation. It was my one talent. The foundation of my magic act. In the towns I wandered into, I could be sure to meet a girl deceived by appearance. I would lure her into the box, assure her of my honesty, and when she least expected, WALA! I would pull the magic curtain and her legs would be sawed in two. Not literally of course. A hundred dollars here, a train ticket there. Luxuries that I was able to conjure out of nothing. You must see how a magician was beginning to form? The power consumed and fascinated me all the same. Even now I’m not sure that I understand it.”
Here is another blurb from a story I've been working on. Notice how much I borrow from other things that I have written:
“One day, I was lying in my father’s haystack blowing bubbles with my gum and thinking about how terribly bored I was. My father, a hard working man, yelled at me. “Quit lying around and dig some dirt!” he said and I lashed out against him. “You dig and dig and nothing comes of it!” I yelled at my father. “Why you could just as easily sit around and blow bubbles in haystacks and the sun would rise just the same!” Well then my father did something that shook me to the core. You see, he was a tough man who barely wore expression. You can imagine my shock when the man began to cry. He was sobbing and sobbing and tears were running down his face. It terrified me. Probably more than if he had thrown the shovel at me. And then he said something that I had never heard him say to anyone. He said, “you’re right.” After that, I knew that I couldn’t stay. We both knew the lie we were living and if I were to stay, we would both be in on it. I packed my bags and headed out the door the next morning."
“The next two years were a mixture of deception, cunning and cheat. I could lie and manipulate myself into any situation. It was my one talent. The foundation of my magic act. In the towns I wandered into, I could be sure to meet a girl deceived by appearance. I would lure her into the box, assure her of my honesty, and when she least expected, WALA! I would pull the magic curtain and her legs would be sawed in two. Not literally of course. A hundred dollars here, a train ticket there. Luxuries that I was able to conjure out of nothing. You must see how a magician was beginning to form? The power consumed and fascinated me all the same. Even now I’m not sure that I understand it.”
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