THE MAGICIAN

First preview here in Edinburgh yesterday. A city full of magic of all sorts. Theatrical. Architectural. Historical. 

And the human variety. 

Human magic is the strangest of all the arcane arts, the most complex. At times, obvious as palming a coin behind your hand as you wow the locals with your prestidigitation. At others, murkier and more unpredictable than the weather in this ancient city that looks like it's the  bastard child of J.K. Rowling and William Shakespeare. I would say minus that sadder aspects of that comparison, the uglier sides of both of those writers world views. But I'd be lying. There is both wonder and sorrow here. Same as everywhere.

Yesterday, we were getting ready to debut at the Edinburgh Fringe. To say the cast and crew were exhilarated would be a great understatement. We started the day with a little press interview with Fringe Biscuit. Always exciting to discuss your show with the press. We went, pitched out show as charmingly as humanly possible, and ventured off. 

We had things to do. A run through of the play at one of our postage stamp sized flats. A mad search for some stools for the show. The usual madness that comes before a show opens, cramming a week into a day, a day into an hour, and hour into a moment.

And then it was time to get ready and head to the Royal Mile, where our theatre is.

Cooper, one of my dearest friends and also one of the leads in the show, and I decided to get some coffee, headed over, had some lattes made "take away", which is how they say to go here in Scotland. On the way back to our flats to meet the cast and walk, there was a commotion across the street. A couple of people were gathered around a woman sitting on the sidewalk, back against the ancient wall, not moving. Most of the people seemed either drunk or high or some combination. The emotions shot out from them in all directions like a volley of damaged arrows.

I wanted to walk on. I had a show to do. 

I couldn't.

I walk over to them, and one of the men tells me the woman is dead. The woman kneeling next to the body screams "she's breathing!" Another man asks me to help. Another man holds his dog back, who is barking to wake the devil. The devil may have woken, but the lady slept on. I ask the group what number to call for an ambulance, as I'm an American. Some of them throw up their arms in despair at this. An American? Now we are fucked for sure. But I get the number. 999. An upside Mark of the Beast. By now, another Fringe goer, a man named James, joins the fray. The 999 operator picks up, and I can barely hear her as things are spiraling quickly into a mad whirl. At every second, at least three people are yelling things at me about the state of the body. 

I should mention. The Lady of the Wall, the Sleeper Who Will Not Awake, She Who Had No Name, does indeed look dead to me. Her skin has turned grey. Her mouth hangs open. Her legs are stiff. 

I am frightened and falling through time and space but unable to be anywhere but right there. 

The operator somehow hears me. I give our location. She asks me if the Lady is dead. I say no. She asks me if I am sure. I am not, but I say yes, she's still alive because I think it will get the ambulance there quicker. 

James puts his hand over her jaw open mouth, says he can feel a breath. 

The operator asks me is the Lady is conscious. 

No.

She tells us to lay her out flat on the ground, head on the sidewalk, and for me to say "now" for every breath the Lady Takes, and I do.

Now. 

Now.

Now.

There are strange intervals of time between the breathes. The span between each breath a chasm of despair. The Lady's grey face seems a mystic death mask of a tragic queen. 

And the ambulance arrives, and people who know far better than I take over.

And in a miracle, The Lady Wakes.

One of the Howling Men turns to me, says thank you, tells me how most people don't stop. 

I know that. Like most of us, I have been The Person Who Doesn't Stop in other chapters of my life.

And then he says:

My names Michael, but they call me Magic. I'm a Magician, you see.

Then he leans in close, with the saddest face in the history of this moment, confesses to me:

I've been on smack for twenty years now.

I walk away, join Cooper, who has been there the whole time. Coop tells me he stayed to make sure I was okay, gives me a hug, and we journey on.

I suddenly feel like crying. I tell the cast to meet me at the theatre, head out.

And as I walk the lovely, lonely streets of this town, I think about what's important. What if anything has any meaning. Why do we do theatre, create stories and songs, dance with each other.

And the world opens up to me. Each step fills my soul with an intense love of this world. Each stranger seems a saint.

A kid handing out flyers for her show asks me if I want a strawberry. She says she's saving them for the cast, but that I can have one. 

I take it like communion, bless myself with a bit of kindness of strangers.

At the theatre, more madness. Running to and fro. No one sure what is going on.

And in the sweet darkness of the first blackout, we make our own magic.

ANYBODY ALREADY SPEND THEIR CHECK?

I feel a bit underwater this morning. Maybe it's the snow, that arrived yesterday after a week of full on Spring weather. Maybe it's fatigue from all this. Maybe I ate too much sugar with our Easter dinner last night. Carrot cake. That's it. The carrot cake blues. Or oranges. Or it's just the cobwebs that always fill the air first thing in the morning. Also, I slept in a bit later than usual, which always adds to the morning grog. Even by describing it, the feeling starts to go away, the sun comes out, and I try to connect. Don't get me wrong, it still feels insane and all that, and I know we have crossed the Rubicon of normal and are in a strange new land never to return to our old lives in quite the same way. We are different people. Still, some things remain, and for me, one of those things is needing a bit of time and coffee to wake up.

So, did I have weird dreams again last night? Of course. First, I was home, upstairs, and I looked out the window, and all of our furniture and belongings were on the street, and about to be sold by the bank. To make matters worse, some of the people hauling all the stuff out were playwriting students of mine. I ran outside, yelled at them, told them they had bad jobs and that they had no right to sell our stuff. The woman in charge, whom I didn't know, said they were just anticipating us not having money soon, and were taking precautionary measures. I freaked out, said a lot of bad words, and got all out stuff put back inside. Then we had some kind of Open House, and entertained our neighbors. And the people who were trying to sell our stuff stayed and had snacks. Then I woke up, at 3am, because my dog Padfoot needed to go outside. Usually he sleeps through the night. Not anymore. I don't know if he is just picking up on our anxiety, or getting older and needing to pee more often, but there it is. Had a second dream where I was remounting a Harry Potter show at one of the schools I teach at. We were doing an immersive version, using the school as the set, and having the audience be walking around Hogwarts, and there was this one scene we were trying to figure out which had the kids running in from the schoolyard and into the class room, joining a scene already in progress. Getting people from the outside to be in sync with the inside was proving impossible, and tempers were flaring. The sound designer in particular was freaking out. The kids, of course, were having the time of their lives, and trusted we would figure it all out. And I found solace in that. So there are my two big dreams from last night- fear of losing everything, and hope for the future. Sort of how things are these days.

Speaking of which, today I get to have the joy of navigating the IRS website to make sure our bank info is there so we can get our little checks, which are already spent. What are we going to do next, as a country, in terms of finance? More and more people are out of work, behind in their bills, and stuck in their homes. Even if Merlin waved his magic wand and somehow it was all lover right now, most of us would be in a bit of a pickle, with no money in the bank, and the hounds at our doors. I don't think just giving over a trillion dollars to the financial markets and less than a months worth of money to us working folk is going to get us through this. Why is it that Canada and Germany and all those commie-pinko-socialist countries are able to take care of their people, but not us? Right now, it is hard to see or even feel the effects all that much, being cooped up in our homes. But what happens come Summer, when we are let out of our cages and find ourselves in a second Great Depression? Things will have to change. I am a great believer in the adage "Necessity is the Mother invention." And it will be necessary to changes things. So buckled up, folks, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Here's a song. It's Mother Necessity from School House Rock.

And for those who like things a bit more blunt, here's the Dead Kennedys with Kill the Poor.

 

SUMMER AT REEL KIDS

Hi there!

I'm writing this to let you know about some summer theatre/film camps I'll be teaching at Reel Kids in Superior. Would love to see you there. Here is the email we've been sending out:

Summer classes have officially kicked off here at Reel Kids, and we couldn't be more excited! Fresh off our closing performance of Dear, Edwina Saturday night, today was our first day of rehearsal for The Secret Garden (opening June ?), and our first day of class for production design. Secret Garden, one of the most beautiful musicals of the past few decades, is based on the classic novel of the same name, and performs June 27th, 28th, and 29th. We hope to see you at the show!

June 16-20, we are offering Hogwarts Film Academy- a week long class where students can film their favorite scenes from the Harry Potter Stories, casting themselves as their favorite characters. Students can write their own scripts, or use material from the screenplays. Click here for more information. For the more advanced, we have a film directing class in June- this class is an exploration of short film making, from beginning idea to shooting the film to post-production. For more info, click here.

In July, we go through the looking glass with our production of Disney's Alice in Wonderland. This is the stage version of the classic Disney film- full of great music and unforgettable characters like The Mad Hatter, The Cheshire Cat, and The Queen of Hearts. Rehearsals beginJune 30, and performances are July 25th, 26th, and 27th. Slots are still available- click here for more info. And if you have a young artist more interested in the design aspect of theatre, in working backstage, building sets, costumes, lights, etc. we have a production class connected to this show. For more info, click here.

Also in July we have several film camps. We start with Camp Half Blood, a two week camp based on the Percy Jackson books. If your young artist ever wanted to make a short movie involving Greek Gods, fighting monsters, and modern teen-agers, this is the camp for them! Click here for more info.  We also have The Hunger Games Film School- where students get to make their own short films based on The Hunger Games. Each student gets to direct their own short film, based on these very popular books. Click here for more info.

And, as if July wasn't action packed enough, we are also offering a beginning film makers class called "iMovie and Beyond" a one week camp exploring the field of digital video and video editing- perfect for any novice movie mogul. For more info, click here.

And in August, it's all about The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee- a hilarious musical for actors ages 12 and up. Smart, edgy, and heart warming, this 2005 show has become an instant classic. Slots are still available- for more info, click here. And if you have an artist interested in working on the production elements of this show, click here.

We'll see you at Reel Kids!

Kari, Kelly, Devin, Tara and Hunter!