As my Focus on Fringe continues, I look at the people I see for a fortnight once a year because they are awesome.
I know Katherine only through Fringe. As is my sometimes awkward nature, I’ve been to a few of her shows and told her that I thought they were pretty good. We’ve sat at the same table at Fringe central and engaged in conversations about whatever we were talking about. Probably Fringe.
Right now, we are actually in the same dance show, which marks the first time the two of us have actually worked together.
As she will be quick to point out, we aren’t working “together” as we aren’t in the same dances.
All of this is to say that I call Katherine a friend but I don’t know her as well as I should.
She has what appears to be limitless energy and enthusiasm for whatever she is doing. That energy and enthusiasm seems to extend to whatever anyone else is doing as well.
While I imagine it has happened, I can’t remember ever seeing her simply walk into a room. She kind of explodes into a room. She either genuinely likes being around other people or pretends to like other people in an attempt to mask social anxiety.
I think it’s the former but it could be the latter. Either way, it’s charming.
As an aside, I have also just learned that we both went to the same high school. Not at the same time. She was there a long time after I left. But still, neat coincidence, right?
Katherine has received a lot of recognition for her work and that recognition is well deserved. She has a life focused on writing and performing and, to be honest, it makes me a little bit envious.
She’s really good at it, though.
Katherine is a great person to know and I’m excited to be in a show with her. Even if we don’t get to dance together.
Here’s what I genuinely don’t understand:
The far right is super concerned about the rights of unborn children.
Once the kids are born, though, they don’t really give a fuck. Especially if those kids weren’t born in America.
In this case, we have a Republican candidate so anxious to show how anti-immigrant he is, he stages a protest with a busload of immigrant kids. Too bad it turns out the kids were actually from a YMCA camp. Apparently they use school busses to move all kinds of kids around. Who knew?
Seriously, does anyone do research before setting up a photo-op?
But more seriously, these are children! This immigration “crisis” is bullshit election year stuff. There are all sorts of people crossing our borders all the time. Politicians only care every two years.
The rest of the time, they only care if there are enough immigrants around to pick their food, cook their food, and clean their houses. And they don’t give a shit about how many of them are on school busses.
Fringe week continues until I’m no longer focused on Fringe week!
Back in 2007, Phillip was a blogger for the Fringe Festival and he wrote about a particularly bad preview we did for Vilification Tennis. I wrote back.
And now we are friends. The end.
Our exchange was actually fairly boring, which may come as something of a surprise given how some people react to Vilification Tennis. Phillip was smart, articulate, and raised good points. I was polite, non-combative, and listened.
He came to our show at the Fringe that year and gave us a positive review. I went to his show that year and really enjoyed it.
See? Being nice to people actually works.
Phillip is a lover of words and language. His shows are frequently solo shows that explore his personal journey, his personal opinions, and his personal passions. He has a complex sense of humor that ranges from geeky to angry to political. Sometimes in the same sentence.
His writing is challenging and I mean that in the best possible way. He challenges his audiences to think. His work is dense and thoughtful. It is not impenetrable but nor is it for those who are unwilling to pay attention.
That said, he can produce work that is startling in its simplicity. His “Improv Comedy Duo” with Ben San Del was one of the funniest short works I’ve ever seen at the Fringe. They took an idea and carried it to a brilliantly absurd extreme.
Because of his passion for words, he is one of the people I look forward to seeing at the Fringe. Conversation is lively and interesting. He can see the best in just about any show while still recognizing that the best is not always good enough.
He’s also always willing to take a chance. As with many years, Phillip is involved with more than one show at the Fringe Festival. One of them is a dance show. I’m in it too.
I don’t know if Phillip is a better dancer than me (probably), but I do know he’ll give it everything he has. Because that is the kind of person he is.
With the Fringe Festival approaching, it seems appropriate to focus on a few Fringe friends for the next few days.
I met Amy when she was asked to step in and help direct my fringe show “Story Time: Time Bomb.” I didn’t know her and she didn’t know me. I just knew we needed a director.
It was a great learning experience for both of us. I’d never done a “kids” show and she’d never directed a show that was mostly improv. The result was a tight show that was, I thought, a lot of fun.
For all the work I do in theatre, I’m not a very good director. Amy is a great director and her skills have not gone unnoticed in the Twin Cities theatre community. I’m glad I got to work with her before everyone else found out.
Amy always has a big smile on her face. I must assume she is always smiling because she is always enjoying herself. From that experience with her as a director, I think it is also because she is getting to do what she loves with her life. It’s hard to be bitter about that.
I’ll note she isn’t smiling in the picture above. But when you are posing with a Batleth, you should at least try to look serious.
She is co-artisitic director of Walking Shadow Theatre Company and if you haven’t heard of them, you should take the time to learn. They are producing some of the best original (and adapted) work in the Twin Cities.
In getting ready to work with Amy on a show in the spring, I like how excited she is by every idea. She makes a great collaborator and it makes me want to write something worthy of her excitement.
The Fringe has been a gateway for me to a lot of truly talented Twin Cities artists. Amy is one of those people and I’m very happy this wacky theatre festival brought us together.
I’ve known of Carr far longer than I’ve actually known him. When I started at the Renaissance Festival thirty years ago, the Ratcatcher was one of the most well-known street characters anywhere.
I didn’t know him as a person then. I knew him as an icon. He was what all of us were trying to be, if only just a little bit.
Many years later, Carr was the Artistic Director of the festival and he had created what can be fairly called a lifetime achievement award. I was the third recipient of the award and he was the person who presented it to me. It was a surreal moment. I was recognized for my contributions to the festival by someone who was a legend long before I ever started making them.
A few years after that, I made a push to present that award to Carr. It seemed wrong to me that he should be excluded from consideration due to the technicality that he created the award.
Carr is a passionate man. He has so many passions, it is hard to see how he manages to keep track of them all. He is a speaker, a photographer, a director, a political activist, an actor, and a great deal more.
The festival is a world of challenges and frequently a world of extreme negativity. Everyone thinks they could do things better. Most of them are right.
But a focus on the negative can be crippling. Carr is so relentlessly positive about the experience that he reminds all of us why we are doing this in the first place. We are doing it for the love of the experience. At some level, that love of the experience outweighs all of the negative stuff.
His talent is to find a way to keep a huge cast focused on the good things. He doesn’t pretend the bad things aren’t there. He simply reminds us that they can’t be the most important thing. Otherwise, why are we there?
Carr and I don’t always agree. Yet I have the utmost respect for him because he disagrees with me without ever devaluing my opinion.
I know who Carr is as a person now. That’s better than being an icon. Icons aren’t real.
I met Ellie through her ex-husband and got to know her better when she became more involved with CONvergence.
She was also a frequent guest at our regular Sunday movie nights until her career took her to Boston a couple of years ago.
These days, she comes back into town for Omegacon and usually CONvergence (though she didn’t make it this year).
While it is a shame we don’t see her as often as we used to, it is the nature of the world in which we live. While I understand the issues many have with Facebook, I appreciate the fact that it keeps me connected to people who no longer live a short drive away.
Ellie has always struck me as smart and open about herself. She frequently stuck around long after movie night to talk about what was going on in her life and in ours. These weren’t “poor me” conversations but rather discussions good friends have because they are comfortable sharing things with each other.
When we went on a vacation with Ellie a few years back, she brought along her new boyfriend. There is a level of trust in such a decision since Johnny didn’t know any of us at all. It’s one thing to feel comfortable with your friends. It’s another to feel comfortable bringing someone new into an existing dynamic.
As a friend, a choice like that makes you feel valuable and trusted, which is cool.
I think Ellie does that all the time. She makes her friends feel valuable and trusted. When she comes back through town, she makes major efforts to get together with the people she doesn’t see that frequently any longer. It’s an awesome feeling to know that you are part of someone’s agenda when they are only around for a couple of days.
The internet may make the world a lot smaller, but it is not a perfect substitute for seeing folks you like. Ellie didn’t make it to CONvergence this year, which is a shame. I suppose it is about time we tried to make it out to Boston.
Peter is one of the few friends I have from college. I suppose that is because I got out of theater for several years so I lost touch with most of those people.
I’d like to think that I had some impact on Peter’s choice to get involved in theatre. He took a stagecraft class when I was a TA in the scene shop and we hit it off. I put a pneumatic nail through his hand. He dropped a platform on my foot. We both got to spend a snowy January morning trying to move a bunch of steel platforms from Downtown St. Paul to Hamline University in a truck with no traction. We bonded.
His passion for photography is evident in the sheer amount of pictures you will find on his Facebook page. He works for the photography department of two major conventions and the number of pictures he takes is amazing. I would say almost every decent picture of my children was taken by him.
If we were the kind of people to ask someone to be a godfather, I think we would have asked Peter. Instead, he’s the crazy uncle that they like more than their parents because he brings them weird stuff.
Any time we need help with a project around the house, he’s there. He is the sort of person who will lend a hand to anyone if he has the time. You know your real friends when you are looking for someone to help you demolish a ceiling. Or watch your cats with two days advanced notice.
Peter is the kind of guy who calls you on the Thursday of a convention weekend as he is leaving his house and asks you what you forgot so he can swing by your house and pick it up.
All of it, I guess, is to say he’s one of those people we’ve always been about to count on when we need something. It is no understatement to say he is one of my best friends. He actually feels a lot more like a family member than a friend.
And he will remain so as long as he doesn’t drop another platform on my foot.