She can't even read that! It's facing away from her! Stop looking so shocked!
I recently had a discussion with a friend of mine, Rose, about pornography and acting. She is involved in the sex industry, has worked as a prostitute and escort, and occasionally does both photographic and film pornography. She mentioned she’d recently finished a shoot where she had earned more in five hours than I’ve yet to earn in all of January.
Curious about her experiences, I asked what being in porn was like. Specifically, whether she viewed it as a sexual experience or a ‘this is an action I’m doing because I’m getting paid’ experience. Rose said that it was the latter: really not much more enjoyable than serving coffee or collating copies, just quite a bit more lucrative.
The conversation got me thinking about what we – as audience members – ask of actors. Because going to a play almost always involves some suspension of disbelief. Perhaps Chicago’s Neofuturists toe the line of theatre which requires no suspension of disbelief, but they’re in the minority. For the most part, going to a show involves allowing ourselves to believe that the actors are their characters. That they’re falling in love, planning for battle, forging alliances, destroying relationships, and on and on and on. When I go to a play I could sit there the entire time thinking, “Well, she’s not really in love with him. He doesn’t really find what she says so funny as to laugh out loud.” But that would make me miserable, so I suspend my disbelief and allow their actions to read as true.
That’s not how viewing porn seems to work, however. For whatever reason, audiences want to believe the people they’re watching are really attracted to each other (even if only on a physical level) and do reach a real, satisfying, climactic (natch) orgasm.
Why is that?
Continue reading 'What do we ask of actors? What about in porn?'»
Everyone in Chicago should know about (and already have seen one million times) Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind, the Chicago theatrical institution of 30 plays in 60 minutes. From their website:
Too Much Light…, with its ever-changing “menu,” is an attempt to perform 30 plays in 60 minutes. The single unifying element of these plays is that they are performed from a perspective of absolute honesty.
So I was a little surprised to come across this listing at Indy Fringe:
The Bloomington Playwrights Project presents The Blizzard, an evening of 30 super-short plays performed in 60 minutes. The Blizzard is short-attention span theatre at a breakneck pace. An ensemble of five actors will be performing each piece in a spontaneous random order selected by you, the audience. To add even more fun, the performers will try to finish all 30 plays in under 60 minutes!
When I asked one of the performers about its striking similarity to Too Much Light he replied somewhat sheepishly “Oh, yeah, we stole it from them.”
Continue reading 'Ethics of Inspiration'»
Last night’s show went really well, and had a pretty good house. Two user-submitted reviews are up at at KCStage.com, and both are very positive. In the meantime, I’ve had a chance to see a couple shows and here are some mini-reviews:
This – A short two-person show involving a man trying to convince a woman he just met to marry him. Surprisingly bittersweet and evocative.
FreakShow Deluxe – Exactly what it promises, making me remember I actually don’t love freakshows. But human blockhead, dangers whip and sword acts, the whole deal.
The Rocky and Bullwinkle Horror Picture Show Parody – SO MUCH FUN! If you love old cartoons and Rocky Horror, this show is the place to be. Hilarious, well-written, well-sung, and very well-costumed.
Grimm and Bare It – I only really saw the last 2/3 of this show, since I was volunteering at the box office at the beginning. It was fun, a combo of fairy tales and burlesque, but not amazing. Which was surprising, seeing as there was a line out the door and the venue had to turn away maybe 70 people. Definitely worth seeing, but I was impressed by the huge turnout.
A Rumble in the City – Two of Kansas City’s Burlesque and BOYLesque troupes (in KC? Who knew?) in a fun competition to see if men or women are better burlesquers. Very much rigged for the entertainment of the audience, but really well done (and funny and thoughtful) acts ranging from West Side Story to vampires to the song Under Pressure.
Evolution – Another show in my venue. Roman, a trans man, talks about his experiences traveling and hitchhiking across the southern US. A really interesting story which took him to lots of (geographical and emotional) places.
Continue reading 'KC Fringe update'»
Yesterday morning, Phil and I left sweltering heat in Chicago to drive 500+ miles to sweltering heat in Kansas City. But that’s ok, because there’s a FRINGE FEST GOING ON!
The drive down went smoothly: My air conditioner worked, Phil and I had stuff to talk about and then agreed on Car Talk and This American Life podcasts, and we didn’t get lost. Also, Culvers has delicious shakes.
While stopping at a McDonalds somewhere in Missouri, a guy unloading the McDonalds truck said “Wow, you work on that? Cuz it looks good!” I wasn’t sure if he meant my tan (awesome) or my muscles (also awesome) but either way it made me smile.
Kansas City is pretty. And hilly. And pretty hilly. I say this from my admittedly flat Chicago perspective, but it seems hilly to me!
The people I’m staying with are AWESOME. It’s Brooke and her husband Chris, and their roommate Amber. They own a beautiful early 1900s home in a historic district and have been fixing it up since they bought it three years ago. Which means there are odd gaps in the repairs – the stairs have ridiculous 1970s linoleum - but on the whole it’s lovely. The main AC doesn’t reach the third floor, where I’m staying, but there’s an extra unit up there. It has trouble fighting the heat during the day – the heat index in KC right now is 97 – but at night it’s delightfully cool.
When I got in they had made delicious veggie dinner. Best hosts ever!
Continue reading 'In Kansas City'»
Spending Friday morning getting a checkup for my car (105K miles, woo) and figured I’d share this new photo:
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Two weeks from tomorrow, I leave Chicago for Kansas City and the Kansas City Fringe Festival. I’ll be driving, most likely by myself. My mom is attempting to talk me into taking her car, a Subaru Forester station wagon/SUV type thing. She wants me to drive her 2007 or 2008 Forester instead of my 1998 Toyota Corolla. The Corolla I like. The Corolla I’ve had since graduating from college. The Corolla covered in LGBT, leftist, and radical bumper stickers.
Continue reading 'A tale of two cities'»
Happy (post) Pride! I hope everyone had a fun weekend, whether you were Pride-ing or not. I had lots of ridiculousness this weekend (in a good way) and thought I’d share what I did.
Friday night I went to Backlot Bash, a mini music fest in my neighborhood behind a local gym. (Hence the ‘backlot’ part.) My neighborhood, Andersonville, is pretty lesbian-y, and Backlot Bash is specifically women-focused. A friend of mine was very excited about the Friday musicians, as they were all acoustic, so we had dinner together and went over. She made yummy vegan pad thai, which was a new culinary experience for me, but much fun.
Backlot Bash was pretty perfect for a Friday night. Saturday and Sunday are usually pretty crazy, but Friday was lots of folks in lawn chairs, good lesbian acoustic rock and folk, and really excellent people watching. It also ended around 10, which was good since I wanted to get as much sleep as possible to prep for Pride. But I definitely want to look up the musicians who played – Katie Quick, Katie Todd, Edie Carey, and Catie Curtis – as they were all excellent.
Continue reading 'A Weekend of Pride Festivities'»
Sue knows how it's done
A counterpoint to the good gender education posted earlier. Feedback is certainly welcome. This will be delivered as stereotypically ‘gym teacher’ as possible.
Listen up, everyone! The politicians in Washington think we aren’t doing a good enough job teaching you all what it means to be real women. Dunno if you’ve been following the news lately. The whole No Gender Left Behind Act nonsense has lotsa people up in arms, but it just seems good sense to me. Girls should be taught how to be ladies, and boys how to be gentlemen. That’s how it was when I was your age.
Like they always do, those same politicians decided your physical education curriculum would be the best place for this new knowledge. I’m no fancy man in a suite in Washington, but I think gym class should be about a good hustle. Be that as it may, this next week we’ll be having some ‘gender education’ lessons at the top of every class.
Who can tell me what it means to be a boy?
(Audience participation. The correct answer is ‘To have a penis.’ The audience is either right or wrong, but either way…)
Being a boy means you have a penis. That’s all there is to it.
Who can tell me what it means to be a girl?
(Repeat)
That’s right. Girls have vaginas.
And how do the people around you know if you’re a boy or a girl?
No, Susan, don’t go around showing boys your vagina. That means you’re a slut. People know you’re a boy if you act like a boy, dammit. They’ll know you’re a girl if you act like one.
Continue reading 'Evil Gender Education'»
Another excerpt from the No Gender Left Behind script. Posted because today I’m feeling down, and this was written when I wasn’t.
There was about a ten year gap between when I first came out to my parents as a teenager and when I started living full-time as Rebecca in my early twenties. When I came out to my parents, said those terrifying words, “I think I want to be a girl,” they didn’t reject me. My mom said, “We’ll love you no matter what.” My dad, “We’ll love you whatever you are, as long as you’re not a Republican.”But having their love didn’t mean they understood. During those ten years between coming out and really transitioning, I asked my parents – I asked just about everyone in my life, really – to rethink how gender works. To join me in saying gender isn’t simply what the doctor cries out at the birth of a child: “It’s a boy!” or “It’s a girl!”
And, to be honest, I’ve had to rethink gender myself. It was a leap to go from “I want to be a girl” or “I wish I were a girl” to “I can be a girl” and, eventually, “I am a girl.” Putting all this gender stuff together has been tough for me, too, even though sometimes I pretend it’s not.
Continue reading 'What’s there to riot about?'»
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