Mothballs

The first week of March was Michigan's spring break, which meant that Aidan got to come up for a whole week! Of course, that turned out to be the week of the MCC performances at AND the week I started with A.R.T./New York (seriously? Break couldn't have fallen during all those weeks of unemployment?). He managed to fill up the time while I was at work though, both with job interviews and a dance intensive at the Paul Taylor Dance Company. We still managed to fit in lots of mini-adventures too, like going to The Moth Mainstage with our friend Meagan, who was also visiting that week. This series of shows is held at a variety of locations around NYC, and at each event people get up on stage karaoke style and, well, tell a story. There's always a theme to the evening (at the show we saw it was "The Distance") but you'd be amazed at all the different ways people incorporate it. And each story (5 minutes or less) is judged by several random groups around the room on presentation, content, and how well it relates to the theme - an aspect that adds a nice competitive flavor to the whole thing. A really fun time (even worth the freezing cold trek to Brooklyn and the wait to get in!). You can also listen to their podcast online - definitely recommended!

Later on that week, we explored some other parts of lower Manhattan that I hadn't really been to yet, like Battery Park, Ground Zero, and the Financial District. There was a lot to take in, but I was most fascinated by the beautiful Trinity Church at the intersection of Broadway and Wall Street. It's history dates back over 300 years and is full of interesting tidbits: It served as the British Headquarters during the Revolutionary War, Alexander Hamilton is buried in the cemetery next door, and the beautiful sculpture in its courtyard (that we're standing under in the picture) is made from the branches of a giant sycamore tree that was downed during the 9/11 attacks. It was pretty amazing to read about how much it's been through.

All in all, it was a great visit. It was so nice to see Meagan, and of course I loved seeing Aidan for more than a long weekend. It made it hard to say goodbye again, but I got some great news the next week that helped to cheer me up: I got a second internship! I had applied on a whim late one night, and was shocked to find an interview request in my inbox the very next morning. I wasn't familiar with the company - all I knew about the place was that it was a theatrical producing organization - but it sounded interesting (and it paid!) so I went in for an interview before heading to A.R.T./New York for the day. Turns out that the position entailed working on projects for two separate companies: the New York branch of Ambassador Theatre Group (one of the largest producing entities in the U.K.) and Rock of Ages Broadway. Needless to say, I was pretty stoked. After spending so much time in the non-profit world, I'd been very curious about the commercial side of things, and this was the perfect opportunity. They offered me the internship the next day, and with that added on to my A.R.T./New York work, I suddenly went back to a 40 hour work week.

Life was good. Not only was I fully employed again, but my roommate Stephanie was also back in town for the Brooklyn leg of the tour she was working (she was on the road from January - March with the children's musical "Frog and Toad"). We got to hang out a bit, catch up, exchange crazy stories. And I also began rehearsals for the staged reading of "Hearting Linds" I was going to direct in the coming weeks.

Not a bad way to welcome Spring to the city.

Upswings

At one point during the course of my "f-unemployment" I was given some helpful advice: broadcast your need. Seemed like a good idea, seeing as how people won't usually offer you work if they don't know you're looking. And when that friend of a friend mentions they have a gig, you want YOUR name to be the first one to pop up in your friend's head. So I forced myself to stop being embarrassed and managed to slip my job hunt into every conversation I had. Friends, acquaintances, random people on the subway... throw the net wide, right?

Then one random afternoon in the first few days of February, I got a call from a number I didn't recognize. It was the co-producer of MCC Theater's Youth Company's winter show. He explained that he needed a production assistant for this show, maybe even an assistant director. And the job started immediately. And it paid.

What?

Turns out my friend (and former summer camp RA) John had mentioned my name when they were brainstorming ideas of people to help with the show. I'd worked with MCC's Youth Company a few years back on their annual UNCENSORED show as an unpaid assistant, so I was a good fit for this project - many of the kids I'd worked with then were still involved. Naturally, I was overjoyed to have this new show to work on, especially when I got to see the great team they'd assembled. Working with such bright, talented High School kids was a good reminder too, proving to me again that I did love this, despite the hardships of the field. (The picture is from opening night!)

I didn't stop looking for other jobs though. I was still applying like mad, checking Playbill's online job postings every day. And then I heard back from one, an organization called the Alliance of Resident Theatres/New York (or A.R.T./New York for short). They were looking for a development intern, which wasn't exactly what I was looking to do, but their mission sounded so interesting I figured I would at least go to the interview (watch the video on the front page of their website, and you'll understand!). As soon as I met the Director and the Associate Director of Development, I knew I wanted to work there. They were funny, smart, and excited about what they they were doing - and why wouldn't they be, since their job was to get money for the use of nearly 300 member theatres?

I found out I got the job a few days later, and started with them right at the beginning of March. Most of my work involved cleaning up data related to their annual gala (to be held in June) and making it usable. It was decent pay too, but it was only twenty hours a week, so I kept looking for other jobs to fill up my days/wallet. And it's a good thing I did...

Bounced Reality Check

Never thought I'd catch this blog up to the current year did ya? Yeah... neither did I!

I spent New Year's Eve in Chicago with Aidan, where we had a lovely dinner with friends before bundling up and trying to head downtown for the fireworks. We just missed the train though, and decided to trudge back and watch the televised ball drop (slightly ironic that I end up watching Times Square coverage after having just left? Perhaps). Then after the festivities, we kicked off 2010 right - with an all night road trip. Yes, it was back to Ohio for us, in preparation for my friend Julie's wedding (!) that Saturday. I was the maid of honor, and after being hundreds of miles away during most of the planning, I was determined to be there for all of the day-before prep.

We pulled in as the sun was rising, and I managed to get in a few hours of sleep before heading to her mom's house (which is exactly 5k/3.1 miles from my house; Julz and I used to run from one to the other for cross country practice)! We got working right away, assembling bouquets, packing up reception supplies, and running errands. The day flew by, but we manged to get just about everything finished. Saturday dawned bright and chilly, with a gentle snow. Of course, there was last minute rushing and a few frantic moments, but everything turned out beautifully. Most importantly, Cory and Julie seemed to have a great time.

A few days later, I packed up and headed back to the city. It was a little surreal; I'd done several internships before in places like Minneapolis and Chicago, but I'd always headed back to Ann Arbor when they were finished. There I was, having just wrapped up MTC... and still in New York. A definite "Welcome to adulthood" moment, made even more real by the fact that I was without a job. I tried not to focus on that though. I still had enough money left from my Dr. Phil gig to survive for a month, maybe two, so I got right to work hunting through job postings for the right fit. I soon got an assistant-director position at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, working alongside Burke Walker (founder of the The Empty Space Theatre in Seattle) on a production of the 1937 play "Time and the Conways". It was only temporary though, and it certainly wasn't enough to pay the bills, so I kept looking for some supplemental work.

And so a routine was born: Wake up, travel to the lower east side, rehearse, come home, apply for jobs. Sleep. Repeat.

After a few weeks of this, my optimism began to wear thin. As did my savings.

It was the first time since arriving in New York that I really questioned myself. Was working in the arts worth all the pressure and stress of struggling to survive? Now, let me be clear on one point: Never during this admittedly low period was I in danger of living on the street, or not eating, or burning my manuscripts for heat a la RENT style. Thanks to incredibly supportive parents, I knew there was a safety net there should I fall. But that didn't make me any more okay with falling. Fortunately, along with the promise of financial support, my family was always there to give me emotional support. At times, that meant listening to my fears. At others, it meant telling me to stop whining and remember that many more experienced people had been out of work for six months. Or a year. And that this is what I wanted to do.

I could not - could NOT - have survived without them. And I can't begin to thank them enough.

Of course, this odd period of semi-employment did lend itself to some unique sort of adventures and mini-jobs. I hawked comedy show flyers for a day, dreamed up a dog-walking business, and trained to be an SAT tutor, among other things. I also went back to MTC for a day and helped them with their Winter Benefit at the Plaza (my duty was to escort SNL alum Ana Gasteyer). But when February rolled around, things took a whole new turn...

Turkeys and Yaks

Somehow amidst all the adventures, the holiday season snuck up on me. I flew back to Ohio for Thanksgiving, and had a wonderful time visiting my family. It was a short trip, but we packed in a lot of fun (like our annual "Flying Feather Four-Miler" run the morning of; the picture is of Rachel and I crossing the finish line together). Rachel regaled us all with stories from her Bhutan trip too (if you haven't checked it out already, take a look at her page on the Bisker wiki; the pictures are wild! And yes, our family does have a wiki. Top THAT!). She brought home some cool trinkets too; some families just have pumpkin pie at thanksgiving... we got prayer flags and yak-hair scarves!

Once I got back to New York, I only had two and a half weeks left at my Manhattan Theatre Club casting internship. After a lot of thought, I'd decided not to stay on with MTC for the entire theatrical season (Sept-May) as originally planned. It was a great experience, and I learned so much about the casting world, but the work hours to pay ratio was wearing me out. I also felt that it was simply too large of an organization for me in the long run. So, despite not having anything else lined up, I went ahead and told them I'd be leaving after the winter break. It was harder than I'd expected; MTC had been a sort of first home for me after landing in New York. But it was the right choice. Of course, right before I flew home for Christmas, I got one last great invite because of MTC (we got a lot of nice comp offers to various shows while I was there). This one was to a private pre-screening of the movie Nine (a film which was based on the Broadway musical Nine, which itself was based on Federico Fellini's semi-autobiographical film 8½. Follow that?) at the Crosby Street Hotel Film Club. I found the movie enjoyable, despite its flaws, and was excited to listen to the talk back with director Rob Marshall, of musical-movie Chicago fame. I was even more excited when a surprise guest showed up to join the talk back: the star of the film, Mr. Daniel Day-Lewis himself. Hearing him talk about acting and art and the industry was exactly the send-off I needed. I left for home in high spirits, eager for the challenges 2010 would bring.

Stars in Our Eyes

When I moved to New York, I took it as a given that there would be some trade-offs. Like never having to search for parking... but having to sit through 15 additional stops when the A train runs local. Or always having something to do in 'the city that never sleeps'... but actually wanting it to quiet down so I could sleep occasionally. And of course, to be near all those bright Broadway lights, I knew I'd have to give up the stars. Not a huge deal; after all, this sort of give-and-take was to be expected... or so I thought.

One November day as I was coming home from work, I noticed a flyer for the Inwood Astronomy Project. I was thrilled to discover that not only did they have a star-gazing event every Saturday night, but that they were also hosting a special viewing for the Lenoid Metor Shower that week. I'm a total science geek at heart, and instantly decided that I was going to convince/force my roommates to come with me. Turns out, they were actually pretty excited too, and we decided to make an evening of it and invite some friends over as well.

When the night finally arrived, we kicked off the evening by cooking up a delicious vegan dinner of orange-glazed tofu, kiwi-Lime soaked asparagus, watercress salad and brown rice. We also baked some vegan cookies, but promptly stuffed them in a ziplock to save them for star-gazing. Then we bundled up, grabbed some thick blankets, and headed out. Turns out the correct entrance to the park is only a block from our apartment, but somehow someone overlooked it and dragged everyone all the way up to Indian Road Cafe before realizing her mistake (that person may or may not have been me; I plead the fifth). But the adventure didn't stop once we reached the park. Inwood Hill Park is a "forever wild" park, meaning that that park service tries to minimize the human footprint on the ecosystem. One way they do this? No streetlights. Awesome for astronomy... no so awesome for finding the astronomy club, especially considering that the 'Hill' portion of Inwood Hill Park is mighty step, and over 200 yards up. But if you looked closely along the path, you could just make out the little orange flags leading the way, so we headed off into the brush.

After a few wrong turns, we eventually made it to the top of the park where we were met by several telescopes and about twenty or so stargazers laying out in a tiny meadow. We spread our blankets, broke out the cookies, and settled in to scan the sky. As a regular viewer of the always-impressive Perseids (which are visible every August), I knew that the somewhat less spectacular Lenoids would be an adjustment. It was a new moon though, so the hope was that without the interference of moonshine, a lot more would actually be visible. But as we played silly sentence games to pass the time, some heavy cloud cover started to obscure the view and our optimism began to fade. After an hour, the November chill was also really starting to seep through our blankets, and we still hadn't seen any meteors. Once the yawns set in, we knew it was time to pack it in. No one complained as we sleepily headed down the path though... between the cookies, the games, the great meal and great company, who needed stars?

The Seas of Manhattan

After a Saturday packed with such random fun, you wouldn't think we'd be able to fit much more craziness into Jaime's visit.

You'd be wrong.

A few weeks before he arrived, I had agreed to take part in a chashama window project called A Moral Aquarium on 37th Street. Chashama is a wonderful organization that helps artists in a variety of ways, including offering subsidized rehearsal space, performance venues, and opportunities to enliven abandoned store fronts by putting up exhibitions or shows - window projects. The one I was involved with (created by Dillon de Give) basically turned this tiny little storefront into an aquarium, complete with paper mache coral, seaweed, sand, and every other underwater environ staple you could imagine. Performers dressed in sea-creature garb "swam" around inside the space, enacting (and sometimes reacting to) pre-recorded interviews with passerby that focused on an instance when the person had been faced with a moral dilemma.

So, not your typical Sunday in the park.

Fortunately, Jaime was totally game. My roommate, Brittany, even got in on the fun, and once we all arrived at the little spot in the fashion district, the only problem was deciding who got to be which creature. We soon discovered which ones we clicked with though; Jaime totally fit the large purple lobster get up. Brittany loved the jellyfish tendrils. And I was (unexpectedly? naturally?) drawn to the hammerhead. Then the real fun began.

Sure, there were a lot of folks who passed by without noticing. Or who pretended not to notice. But you'd be amazed at how many did pause to take a look; performance art can really make people stop in their tracks. Some laughed, some shook their heads. My favorites were the "car-gawkers" who peered out at us from their vehicles on 37th street. There was no staring shame from these folks; when you've got some distance and a car door between you and the sea-creature freaks, you feel pretty invincible. That's what made it fun though... acting, jumping around for them. Then just at the last moment, right as the light changed, we'd crack open the glass door they hadn't paid attention to and reach out to them... talk about your great facial expressions! Of course, the kids were awesome too. They whole "moral" idea behind it may have been a little over their heads, but the total joy they felt at seeing these unexpected creatures was beautiful to watch.

All in all, I'd say it was a pretty stellar NYC weekend.

A Circus Grows in Brooklyn

The other day, an elderly woman boarded the train I was riding home after a long rehearsal. I wouldn't have paid her any special attention, except that she didn't manage to grab a hold of the pole before the train lurched forward. She was thrown at least five feet, landing hard on her back. Instantaneously, the people on either side of the aisle leapt up, helped her to her feet and sat her down in one of the empty seats. They made sure she was alright, dusted off her handbag, and after she gave a reassuring smile everyone went back to their books or ipods.

That same afternoon, I was sitting at one of Schnipper's Quality Kitchen's street tables outside the New York Times building, half-reading, half-mulling over some impending decisions, when a woman approached me. "Sweetie, are you alright? You look sad," she said, obviously concerned. I assured her I was fine, that I was just thinking over some things, to which she responded,"Well, you're very pretty, too pretty to look so sad. I just know that everything's gonna be okay for you." Then she wished me good afternoon, and went on her way.

Anyone who tells you New York is only full of mean people obviously hasn't lived here.

Getting back to my November adventure: Jaime and I took our time wandering through Brooklyn, following Flatbush avenue and stopping to look at any graffiti or odd house that interested us. Eventually we stopped for some hot chocolate (and a chance to warm up/dry off) before heading to our real destination: Galapagos Art Space. This unique performance venue in DUMBO, Brooklyn (which stands for "Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass") boasts an indoor lake (with "island" tables in the middle of it) and quirky, out-there shows. We planned to see one show at 7:00 PM, then stay for their weekly "Floating Kabarette" at 10:00 PM, but we ended up getting there a bit early; they were still teching the first show. Of course, DUMBO is full of all sorts of fun little nooks and crannies, so we just ambled over across the alley to what looked like a party in a warehouse. I mean, that kind of randomness is what NYC adventures are all about right?

The warehouse actually turned out to be The Powerhouse Arena, a sort of gallery/performance space/book store hybrid, which was amazingly beautiful. And the party was actually the culmination of Page Turner: The Asian American Literary Festival. Not a bad event to stumble upon, when you consider they welcomed us right in to the free drinks, snacks, and readings from such notables as Tony-winner David Henry Hwang and Pulitzer-Prize winner Jhumpa Lahiri. I can think of worse ways to kill time.

Unfortunately, the first show at Galapagos was a bit of a wash - not near as much fun as waiting around for it was. After it finished, we decided to find some food and see if we felt up for the second round. We were pretty hungry at this point, and would have settled for just about anything. However, inexplicably, we happened to stumble upon one of the most legendary Brooklyn pizza joints, Grimaldi's. Even more inexplicable: there was no wait (sometimes, it takes upwards of an hour to get into this little pizza place). Needless to say, it was incredible. The pizza itself was classic New York, with its big, floppy slices and tons of cheese. It was only surpassed by the enormus cannoli we split afterwards (yes, somehow after downing an entire pizza, we found room for dessert too). Un-believable.

By the time we headed out for the Galapagos Floating Kabarette, we were stuffed but determined to give the venue another shot. We were glad we did; this show more than made up for the first. How to describe it? It was sort of an underground circus/burlesque show with singing, and lots of aerial acts. And free hair cuts. And remember, there's an indoor lake too.

Yeah, it was sorta wild. And lotsa awesome.

After staying way too late at the crazy show, Jaime and I slowly made our way back to Inwood (choosing to go by subway rather than foot this time, thankfully). But the adventures didn't stop there... little did Jaime know that he was going to make his theatrical debut the very next day!