This happens in my idea of heaven…I mean this song and her? This song is the soundtrack of so many parts of my life. This is up there with “Mo Better Blues” the movie for me because these are both examples of when I think God just comes down and sits inside some art to chill, unbeknownst to the artist.
For all of you “true to the game” artists in NYC or NJ, here’s your chance to make some cash and teach the babies:
SUBMISSIONS
Teaching Artist—Princeton, NJ
McCARTER THEATRE CENTER’S Education Department is seeking applicants for a PAID freelance teaching position in its First Stage After-School Theater program. The position runs March–May, 2010. Successful candidates will have extensive experience working with urban youth, specific knowledge of acting theories and styles, and a strong desire to create a stimulating and exciting curriculum. Artists with expertise in storytelling, particularly African folktales, and devised theater are strongly encouraged to apply. Teaching Artist will be responsible for creating a compelling performance with students involved in the Trenton After School Program (TASP), as an employee of McCarter Theater’s Education Department. Candidates should email their headshot and teaching resume to: jmurtha@mccarter.org, or mail to: Jim Murtha, Education Programs Manager, MCCARTER THEATRE CENTER, 91 University Place, Princeton, NJ 08540.
McCarter Theatre is an equal opportunity employer and encourages the application of all qualified individuals.
Dave Chapelle talks Depression
This is why I love him. Sometimes people offer you advice and they have NO idea where you are coming from. While I was taught to nod and smile, Dave just broke the mold.
I adore Brooklyn though not necessarily enough to live there (I did for a little bit and realized I loved Brooklyn more when I could visit from Harlem). I have such fond memories of going to my friend Jessica Care Moore’s crib on Willoughby with a GANG of folks falling through, cooking Kwanzaa meals, almost getting attacked by bats in Prospect Park at night crossing through from the Tea Party poetry show that night, dragging my dad all the way to Atlantic to try mafe and plaintains for his first time…so many great things in Brooklyn.
Except Antione Fuqua’s new much anticipated movie, “Brookln’s Finest.”
The BF and I hit the midnight screening because we ache for the NYC so much sometimes. Going to the Arclight Hollywood, you never know what kind of crowd you’re getting at midnight. Sometimes it’s a bunch of hardcore film heads and sometimes it’s full of kids and dates. Last night we saw more black folks than we’d ever seen at once there. But the theater wasn’t even ¼ full…figures.
I’ll start with a summary. If you’ve seen “Training Day”, you’ve seen “Brooklyn’s Finest.” What’s the difference? Brooklyn. Three main characters (Ethan Hawke, Richard Gere, Don Cheadle) all playing the Denzel Washington character rolled up into one. There. That’s the movie.
Now the details. The three characters are all cops in Brooklyn who are dealing with their various woes of the job (this is NOT a recruiting movie for NYPD, I can tell you that much) – some are more dire than others. Don Cheadle was the best I’d seen him be in awhile (I know he loves “Traitor” and I wish I loved it as much as he did but alas I didn’t. None of this make me waiver in my stan for him though). His storyline almost seems not worthy of his acting skills. I mean I get how hard it is to be undercover (hello! “Deep Cover”! What beats Clarence Williams III lashing of Laurence Fishburne’s going over the deep end? And if you’re going to New York undercover movies – not TV – “Serpico” doesn’t hurt to revisit). But my problem with his storyline, aside from my distraction because of Wesley Snipes’s face (what did you do, Wes?), is my problem with most of the movie. There are some gaping holes that would resolve these character’s storylines pretty quickly and, while that’s not the point of a movie, it shouldn’t be the point of distraction either. However it was good to see my buddy Jas Anderson working as he’s been grinding his acting thing for a minute now! Conflicted, Cheadle’s character wants to get out, wants to be loyal to his frienemy Wesley, wants to make Detective, wants his life and wife back. He wants a lot and doesn’t want to give up much. Pretty much you realize that the life he wants to have back really doesn’t exist anymore. Thus the moral of most undercover movies – so deep that it’s real before you know it.
Ethan Hawke’s character line was the most difficult for me in that his quest to better his family was so narrow and I couldn’t really figure out why. He only had one solution to fix his problem the entire movie. And, what a tragedy that Lily Taylor is only in the movie for like three minutes! She’s an indie queen! Forget these little waify forgettable blurs of blonde hair you see now. Lily and Parker Posey are the Rizzo’s of that Pink Lady Gang. Too bad she’s so underused as Ethan’s pregnant wife. His blind pursuit of a better life for his kids ultimately makes him blind to the lines of the law and he enters a point of no return. It is refreshing to see that kind of Brooklyn cop (Catholic, too large family, loud, smoking, drinking, probably Italian/Irish blend) not have racism as part of his corrupting MO. His character’s issues are far more universal. But it’s so hard to take acting that so good for value since the alternatives to his plight are so obvious.
Lastly, Richard Gere’s retiring cop. I love this character because he’s not a good cop and not because he beats people up or anything but because he’s been phoning it in for 22 years. His boys consider him a bad cop because he’s not passionate. That’s such an interesting take on the classic NYPD character because ultimately think of cops as too aggressive, ego tripping and not passionate about people at all. This character was ripe with potential but it doesn’t quite bloom, even in the end where he decides reluctantly to rectify his 22 years of passivity with a heroic action. This act makes me sad for him. Even sadder is his faux love for a prostitute he sees on the regular. Not so sad about his attempts to kill himself sporadically or his drinking. Everyone in theater reacted to the scene where he recounts his day to the prostitute. If you see the movie, you’ll see why.
Here’s the filler. There are some kind of half-hearted disconnected attempts to interweave the character’s storylines. As a writer, I can totally tell this was a last minute act to glue some scenes together. I’ve done it so I can smell it a mile away. It doesn’t really work because we don’t care that much if they do intersect. This only proves that the movie is trying too hard sometimes to be clever, to be hard, to be gritty and everything you want it to be but it knows it’s not.
I’m surprised Antione Fuqua agreed to do this as this seems like one of those “been there done that” things for him. Maybe in this economy everyone wants to do the familiar. I mean that new Matt Damon movie smells like a Bourne movie but it’s not (even though Bourne’s name is all over it because it’s from the makers of the franchise) and Tom Cruise does repeatsies all the time even though I swear he needs to do more “Tropic Thunder” bundles of joy.
All in all, this isn’t the Brooklyn movie I really wanted to see. It’s like that movies okay cousin.
Yesterday I was so lucky to have breakfast with my college mentor, Dr. Barbara Emerson, who was instrumental in allowing me to have no boundaries in all the things I wanted to do at Eugene Lang at the New School way back in the day. Me and my cohorts were able to put together the first black theater festival there and actually pay our professional friends (like Jessica Care Moore, Jasiri, T’Kalla, Bradley, Shelley Nicole, Nathan Trice to name a few) to come and participate. As a black women in such a progressive academic environment, she was refreshing, strong, unwavering in her support, opinions and wisdom. I remember my father really adoring her at my graduation (especially after the Dean commented that she’d never met a real autoworker before when I introduced him - that got an eyeroll).
So yesterday morning, Dr. Emerson and I caught up and we got on the subject of Sekou Sundiata, the beloved playwright/poet who changed my life through his work and through the simple instruction of connecting headlines to art so I could understand my world in contest and content. Dr. Emerson said she’d missed Sekou’s memorial at The New School because another good friend of hers had passed, Asa Hilliard. She then realized that both of these men were born around her time and that there weren’t that many black men her age because of the Vietnam war. The birth years of black men from 1947 onward had been tricky since not many came back home. It never occurred to me. My dad was one that did come back home but never ever talked about what happened there and I could usually get him to talk about ANYTHING. Vietnam was a closed door.
So incidentally, at the same time this conversation happened, one of my dad’s best friends since the womb, Richard “Scooter” Williams, was making his transition in Detroit, daughter and pastor present. His daughter, Kirsten, was one of my very best friends when I was in 1st - 3rd grade. Her father took us to the mall many times, our first Michael Jackson concert and chaperoned many crazy sleepovers. He taught me that it was okay to ask for what I wanted since, at that time, I had some crazy notion that asking the opposite usually got you what you really wanted. I wasn’t that imaginative obviously.
What a great life my dad, Scooter and my Uncle Mitchell have had. They’ve had adventures that many would envy, they have children who adore them in so many different ways, they’ve left a legacy of loving outside of the usual boundaries since blood is really just blood but love is really family. They gave me tools to be who I am now and I’m eternally grateful (I’m not sure if I can do a funeral yet since my dad’s really left me in a fragile place and has still) but not a day goes by that I don’t remember driving around Highland Park as if that was my world where I could expand and contract with ease and security. Memories are almost like my bible of sorts. I have such loving pure ones that I am thankful everyday when I wake up and am able to love as I do for the people like Scott, Marcella, Jen, my brother, my mom, Ari, Jessica, Kamilah, Inge, Eve, Vasanti, Yvie, Maritri, Amanda, my cousin Renee…the list is pretty long because of that time. How lucky I feel right now because of the untraditional.
Have a great time with dad, Uncle Scooter.
There are so many wonderful writers I know and we are all so vastly different but there are a few things we share aside from the need/love of writing. Specifically, we all share the presence of people in our lives that assume writing is very easy. I mean you just make stuff up, right? Or there are those that say, so what it’s hard? Push through. Or there are those who have the romantic relationship with writing which only sets you up for failure (if romanticizing the fully unknown doesn’t work for love, why would it work for anything else?). Here’s how it goes for me:
- Great idea pops itself into my head at usually not a convenient time causing me to either zone out, grab a napkin, try to remember, forget, remember again at another time, magic dust sifted off and idea is a little less than the initial great formation.
-open blank document. stare. be scared. first word struggles. first word deleted. decide to be zen and just write it out. usually like that. come back and realize you must do this sweaty palm typing all over again.
-panic when story structure does not go smoothly despite outline or no outline or clear steps in head.
-write it out.
-decide you are really not killing any of your children if yo cut that monologue that doesn’t work. i for one never use the cut stuff again. it sounds great but it sounded great THERE and it doesn’t fit there so it doesn’t matter.
-share. with people. preferably other writers. if you share with actors, they either smile blankly or digest the thing whole and want it to be part of their fabric and ask you tons of questions you haven’t really thought of. sometimes this is great. sometimes you get an actor or actors who have decided they know this thing better than you and there is no way to talk them away from this concept. nobody got anywhere being a stage mother.
-hear comments. related to above. the magic of getting notes is pretty easy. if you let it, it will make you a patient in the bin but if you become liquid, it will become another exercise in getting to know others (sort of like eavesdropping). first, realize that people’s comments are coming from them - not from some magical unbiased think tank. this is not bad. sometimes people’s experiences are wonderful tools to use. other times, not so much. but they don’t know this so don’t be defensive towards them. they know what they know. how you get through this process is simple. write down what’s useful, pretend to write down everything else.
-remember your own thoughts after hearing play out loud. a few times. the first time you might want to peel your skin off, pee, run and crave oxygen at the same time. that happens to me. i’m no good the first time around. my heart wants to say the lines and that’s not possible so my mouth is forced shut. the second time, you can hear the gaps, run into the bumps, realize when a line is said not how you intended (decide if that’s your fault or if the actor just missed the lead in), figure out how to fix it.
The thread here is that you have to stay fluid in the process. If you have decided already how things should go, you might miss out on the best way they can go. What if? is never a bad thing to keep asking. Tune out the people who think you just sit down and start typing fast. Confidence works in life and more so in art. If you have a day job, realize that art is not the same structure. There is no boss when writing. No one can boss creative process. Well, that’s wrong. Madonna can boss creative process. But you’re not Madonna. So there’s that.
Just remember to cheerlead yourself until you get a posse who does it. You shouldn’t stop when you get a posse but you also don’t have to be sad you don’t have one when you don’t because you are more than enough.
Having just gone through a slew of birthdays (mine and my dad included), I’ve discovered another tendon important to maturing in life. Auto correct. You may have read this elsewhere in this kind of phrase “pay attention to the little voice in your head” but I think it’s really larger than that.
There comes a moment in your life when you’ve got to give yourself a little credit on first impulse. Everything that has come to past in your life has lead you to this moment so sometimes, your first reaction is correct. Yet it seems we are taught to second guess our first reaction just in case it’s incorrect. Even if it is incorrect, sometimes it is incorrect for a reason. It’s to auto correct you.
I’ll give an example:
The other day, someone asked if I was okay because there were a couple of things I was doing that fell through the cracks. This is a normal question of course because I pride myself on my work. But this person was also witness to some of the reasons behind this crack falling episode I had (actually just two things that went left of center but not two major things) that were including but not limited to a bank fraud on my account, a tire with a nail in it, that woman monthly visitor, some crazy work stuff and a low immune system. My initial reaction was to be who I was and say outright why I was acting the way I was acting. Without an attitude but definitely with perplexion because this person was a witness to said things. In the past, I would have tried to cut myself around the idea of being nice as opposed to calmly truthful. I would have shucked and jived my way into making the situation comfortable as opposed to letting it happen. I’m not saying that I didn’t think about my actions over and over again after my response. What I am saying is that I don’t regret how I responded because somewhere I autocorrected myself without realizing it. Something in me needed to be me at that moment and not listen to the fears, expectations, proper blah blah that we are taught to layer over our own feelings. Feeling what you feel is just as important as understanding where someone else is coming from. In fact, it should give color to all other things that relate to relating to other people.
This is a tangent but then most of my posts are because they are coming from my own experience as I navigate the art of autocorrection and hashing out my life without “putting all my business in the street” (I’ve been accused of that before).
The purpose of this though is to acknowledge that my thirty some odd years have lead me to unconscious lessons that have benefited me in areas where I don’t have to overthink anymore. Think of Neo in the Matrix when dodging bullets. He was not sitting there contemplating the bullets so much as he listened to his own rhythm. I’ll not tell you this works ALL the time but I can tell you that sometimes it’s just what you need to do to be you.
Not enough can be said about Haiti right now. I’m annoyed with people who have the audacity to slam charity of any kind for people who are significantly less fortunate than us. The luxury of being an American is that most of your worries (including the ones about being outraged at banks, car companies, Presidents and the like) is literally minute compared to worrying about where you will get water that day or if your child will live because of a limb infection. This lack of perspective is frightening. I do tolerate questions of infrastructure, not just from our side, but from the Haitian’s side as well. I pray this tragedy sheds light on the necessity for roads, however crudely paved, steel beams (even if you must beg another country for steel) to reinforce hospitals and other important buildings. Some of the problems of getting resources to Haiti have nothing to do with well meaning countries trying to arrive there. Bottle necking supplies are stuck because there is a wealthy of help trying to land on the size of a pin top. Haiti is not a large country. Six large sized planes fit on their runway at once. I’m annoyed with the media trying to imply that the significant help of the US is paling in comparison to say Israel. Israel is wonderful for what they do because they had one mission: get a mobile hospital up. The United States is trying to do that, clear bodies, land relief supplies and clear ports, just to name a few of the agenda items. This is not as easy as one would think. Let’s put the focus back on relief and support instead of who’s doing what better. There are tons of miracles happening daily. People from over 30 countries are aiding. There are people being found alive in rubble after over five days. There are miracles happening daily.
SistaPAC is a group I’ve worked with before (three wonderful women who’ve taken their own goals in entertainment and ran with them) on a short film I wrote called “Perpendicular” (a silent that was a few festivals with great joy). They have deep roots in Haiti and have sent the below helpful email out that I will post so that people will know how to help. Social media is changing how we better ourselves so lets make sure we remember to better ourselves in the process.
I would also like to send my love and prayers to the Toussaint family. My old Brooklyn roommate, Kiki, lost her father to the tragedy. I can only hope my dad was there to greet him on the other side (especially since my dad was fascinated with the story that Kiki and I decided to room together as strangers looking for apartments one day in Brooklyn. We lived together for over a year!).
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| Dear Friends,
As many of you know by now, the tiny island of Haiti was hit hard by a devastating earthquake on Tuesday, January 12, 2010. Haiti has suffered much since it gained its independence on January 1, 1804. This recent devastation is one more blow in a long history of hardship. Two of SistaPAC’s co-founders are of Haitian decent (Maureen Aladin and Ella Turenne) and the third co-founder, Jessica Hartley, also has immediate family who are of Haitian decent. All three have family still in Haiti and have experienced what the rest of the diaspora has – family members missing, injured and some hopeful stories of rescue. We have been heartened by the outpouring of support from friends, family, the US government and the international community. Please know that Haiti is in a dire state of emergency. It needs your prayers and help to make it through this crisis. It will need it now and for some time to come. We urge you to give – whether monetarily or in the form of medical, food or other supplies. We also implore you to keep Haiti in your thoughts not only next week, next month or next year, but as long as it will take to help rebuild the country. For those of you looking for reputable places to give, we offer a few below. Giving can be as easy as texting on your cell phone or writing a check. It can also be as involved as bringing clothes and supplies to a drop off point. Please find a link below to a beautiful song written and performed by Rob Murat entitled “Souls.” This song was a Lennon Award Winner. It has been dedicated to the people of Haiti and we hope that it will lift your spirits. SistaPAC Productions was founded on the principle of giving women a voice – and today we lend our voices to send a message to all of you that the Haitian people are in need. Please do all you can and keep them in your prayers. Kenbe, Ella, Maureen and Jessica
SUPPORT HAITIAN MEDIA The Haitian Times
Haiti Xchange
Google Haiti Crisis Page
Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees
Please use rear entrance on Lincoln Road between Nostrand and New York Avenue. Enter through St. Francis Church parking lot. To make a financial tax-deductible donation to Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees, Lakou New York, and MUDHA Movement of Dominican Haitian Women, so that they may take supplies to Haiti, please mail donations to: Dance Xpressions In response to the Earthquake in Haiti Danse Xpressions dance studio is working in collaboration with the Haitian Consulate office of NY as drop off center to have people donate items that are urgently needed within the next couple of days. We will be collecting items for the next 7 days starting today. These are items that we need to get out ASAP, on the medical planes that are leaving this upcmoning week. Below you will find a list of the requested items. We thank you in advance for your generosity Drop off hours are : List of Items Requested by the Haitian Consulate: The following items have been requested urgently by the Haitian Consulate office of NYC. We kindly ask that you please only donate the items on this list as these are the items that are urgently needed. Note: There will be no collection of clothing at this time. In addition to the following items, Danse Xpressions is currently in need of people to donate boxes and packaging items, as well as volunteers to help during drop off hours and to help pack the boxes with the donated items. 1. Water ( Cases of bottled water ) Dwa Fanm Dwa Fanm is a human rights organization that works to protect women and children. To give financial support, please make donations at www.dwafanm.org or Visit www.brooklyntabernacle.org to make donations directly online. Please UNBLOCK your popup blocker. Make your checks out to ‘Brooklyn Tabernacle’ with ‘Haiti Relief’ in the memo line and mail it to Dwa Fanm P.O. Box 23505, Brooklyn, N.Y. 11201. For donations of medical supplies, please bring your items to:
Once again, we would like to sincerely thank you for helping to make the launch of our project a success. We were happy to have the opportunity to work with you, and we look forward to building with you in the near future. |
I wasn’t around consciously when I was born so I don’t have anything but my Mom’s stories about labor to compare an actual birthday to. But somebody got an idea we should celebrate that day every year and so here we are. I don’t come from a big family so I don’t have very many specific memories. My first 12 or so were just me and my mom and my dad. After that a few friends trickled over but there was never any big to-do so that’s why I have this love hate relationship with birthday events. I think my first favorite birthday memory was being in Detroit in the middle of the biggest snow storm ever (and that’s big for Detroit) and I didn’t have much to do but sit in my room and listen to the local public radio jazz station. I had my very own stereo (thanks Mom and Rent-A-Center) and I called in and dedicated a John Coltrane tune to myself. After that I remember my first date at 16 and we went to Red Lobster. If only the relationship stayed that sweet. After that, birthdays have been a bit uncomfortable for me. On one hand, I want the fanfare but on the other I don’t want it because I really don’t know how to handle it. Or how you’re supposed to be about it. I’m not really extrovert though I can talk a lot in general so there’s a lot of dual roles playing here. I think I’ll be more comfortable by just ending this with acknowledging that my dad’s birthday is in ten days and I will be warm and fuzzy on that day instead of the tear fest (I’m creative visualizing). Today I’ll also say that my heart is really full of love and light for all of those close to me and those far away (Haiti, keep your souls up! The world sends you action prayers) and that’s what I think birthdays should really be about. Love inventory.
It could be because I’m biased towards Capricorns (shout out to Imani Uzuri - my fellow “Lucy”) but I just love Capricorn singers. I do. And every since I went to Sade at Madison Square Garden by myself because it didn’t even occur to me to invite anyone else, I was hooked. It actually started earlier than that. When I was in high school my mother was ALL about getting our hair done every two weeks (it was Detroit, home of the 24 hour beauty salons) even though sometimes our phone was shut off. Anyway, Detroit beauticians epitomize classy to me. They always dressed nice even though they were on their feet burning some hair all day. There was one lady at Vantinus Hair Salon in the Riverfront Towers who used to play Sade ALL the time. The feeling from watching a classy woman (since I was an uncomfortable pimply chunky teenager) listening to classy music has inspired me from that point on. So Sade will cause me to drop what I’m doing and pay attention. Plus her business is so not in the streets like other nameless light bulbs out there.
So she’s back with “Soldier of Love” and, yes, it sounds just like Sade but that’s what I expect. She’s not out there trying to break music molds because she already did thanks. Bossip has her new video here:
http://bossip.com/201798/preimere-sade-soldier-of-love-video/
Check it out BEFORE Sony swipes it.
I just realized also that I’ve been wearing my hair like Sade for the past 6 months! Coincidence? I think not.
I’ll be at the concert and this time I’ll remember to ask the BF. Heh.