on saturday, i directed a reading of a new musical i’ve been developing for over a year, and i felt like i was inside the vision i’ve always had in my head of what making art in your twenties in new york in brooklyn is supposed to look like.
we were in a loft — a real, honest-to-god loft, with no guardrails around the mattress to keep you from crashing to your death and a wall of unopenable windows and barely any furniture but for a baby grand piano. it felt like a hundred degrees and we were out of ice, yet by some miracle, everyone stayed in their seats.
i caught a glimpse of myself in the big mirror by the door, and i looked how i thought i would look as a director: tall, loose curly hair, combat boots, red nails, aware of everything and everyone around her. i made a speech before the show started and everybody clapped. people asked me what else i was working on and i had tons to talk about. i sat in the back and watched everyone else’s reactions and nobody watched mine. i thought, it’s hot up here. i thought, nine people’s favorite thing. i thought, this is the life, bo bo bo bo bo.
people said kind things about my work and i accepted their compliments with grace. people laughed and cried and listened. people liked it, i think.
after it ended, i broke down music stands and picked up plastic cups until the host insisted i go home. i walked to the subway with my black backpack over one shoulder and a tote bag full of props over the other. the moon was like a spotlight. for a moment, i wished there was someone with me to carry one of my bags, to talk through the reading all the way home with me. but then i remembered that in the vision, there was never someone else. it was only me, flying high with the pride of making art and hungry for more.
reading.
finished big swiss by jen beagin. i found it hard to put down and yet… weirdly unsatisfying? it does feel like it belongs on a syllabus with an education by susan choi. as always, found it helpful to read other people’s thoughts, too, so i read this and this.
picked agatha of little neon by claire luchette back up.
a really good list from arbiter of distaste of “ways you made it to twenty-eight.” it made me finally open my journal again for the first time in a month. just read it. some of the parts below it made me feel like i wrote it myself.
this and this about 1989 (taylor’s version).
this article about women and nonbinary playwrights reimagining the work of arthur miller.
yet another article about a show i am, miraculously, not watching.
i already knew i had to buy tickets to stereophonic, but this sealed the deal.
the below words from robert wilson in memory of robert brustein, which came to me via helen shaw.
and speaking of helen shaw, her writing on sondheim and here we are is just excellent.
seeing.
went to the brick with my roommates and was utterly delighted and moved by room, room, room, in the many mansions of eternal glory for thee and for everyone, “an acoustic hyperpop folk opera about death, sex, god, gender, utopia and the end of the world.” just a wonderful time. plus, it taught me about the public universal friend.
also, the below cartoon by one of the artists behind room, room, room.
judi dench doing a beautiful sonnet 29. (for extra credit, listen to it set to music by georgia stitt and sung by brian d’arcy james. i used to listen to this all the time.)
a reading of pluck by jan rosenberg at the tank. i must remember the cardinal rule of midtown: no matter why i am there, i will run into everyone i know.
the view from my roof on halloween night. my friends and their costumes.
plus, my favorite niche halloween costume this year.
this entire thread of some of the most excellent choices made by elphabas and glindas since wicked began performances 20 (!) years ago.
almost done with crazy ex-girlfriend again. i can’t believe this la la land parody that normalizes taking antidepressants actually aired on tv, and i’m so grateful.
hearing.
1989 (taylor’s version), obviously.
if you liked the brian d’arcy james above, i also offer you this classic… again.
some phoebe and friends for when you feel melancholy.
a good song for when you’re feeling things about living in new york city.
heard this for the first time this week and liked it.
also, this whole album. so good.
making.
a reading of FEMBOY! by farrah rotman. (yes, that’s what i was writing about up at the top.) i’ve been working with farrah on the show for a while, and while we’ve held countless private readings at her apartment, this was our first public presentation. it was so gratifying to watch an audience watch the show, to see them experience sam bolen and izze stein and farrah giving the performances i’ve been lucky enough to see up close over a number of months.
as good apples collective continues to build a library of free resources for other indie producers, we got to experience something unbelievably cool: a legal clinic at columbia law school in partnership with dramatists guild foundation that was focused… entirely on us! massive thanks to jess and amy at dgf, as well as the columbia faculty and staff who helped us refine our materials.
tons of prep for the reading of wakeman / the rosetta project happening next week. it’s so incredibly gratifying to get to do my work at a high level and know in my bones that i’m doing a good job. i’m obsessed with our team and can’t wait to finally be in a room together on monday.
solidified casting for another reading the week after that. wheeeeee!
💕💕💕