An alternative?

We just returned from seeing Frank Rich talk. One-time theater critic and current op-ed writer on American politics and popular culture for the New York Times, Rich is a hero of the "liberal" side of America (more on the "quotes" in a minute) and rightfully so.

We went to hear his thoughts on the current lunacy involving the run for the Presidency (he thinks it's exciting, but can't understand how the Democrats can have such close connections with Hollywood and still be so bad at presenting their case publicly) and how the country got into its current shape (well, books have been written, this is just a blog). Rich speaks ... well. Not great, not mesmerizing, not excitingly, one gets the feeling that he takes for granted that he is speaking to a like-minded crowd. His grasp of facts and timelines is flawless and presented like the trained newsman and believer in journalism that he is.

It was a fairly typical university-sponsored event, full of posturing academics and deans needing to show how important and clever they were, and how much they knew about and ran in the same circles as their guest, and all eager to state their names and titles before introducing the next learned presenter who would in turn present Mr. Rich. The point was pointedly made that Frank Rich was considered, by this learned group, as liberal, "but not in the sense of using the word as opposing politicians would say it as a curse word." Sheesh.

We were quite stunned, however,and not alone in our stun-ness, that after making a point of mentioning press conferences that are manipulated and question sessions that are scripted, Rich agreed to a question-and-answer that turned out to be, yes, pre-selected questions, read by a muckety of the university who thought himself another Leonard Lipton, to the point of quoting other theater critics and then asking Rich if he agreed. And not taking any questions from an eager audience given one of the extremely rare opportunities to talk to a "liberal" journalist.

But the session did lead to an interesting comment by Mr. Rich, and the reason for this post. Asked if "theater is dying," he said "Theater has always been dying, ever since the Greeks." Talking about the current state of digitized entertainment, he said that while newspapers, television networks (he seems to really hate TV conglomerates), record companies, movie theaters ("I can't see why anyone will want to go to a movie theater soon.") even book publishers are suffering from the digital age, live performance is soaring.

Rich said he feels that with digital reproduction of music and films so readily available, people are beginning to appreciate the real difference they can only find in a live presentation, specifically music and theater. "A DVD of the movie of Rent is just like seeing the movie. A DVD of the play is not the same thing."

Imagine that, live performance as an alternative to iTunes and Netflix. People getting out of their electronic houses and going to live music and live theater ... because it's live, and real, and immediate. Add live readings to that. Collaborate with a musician, get a group of actors together. Put on a show!

Imagine that.

The magic of writing

When I was a kid I studied magicians. Not magic; I didn't have the patience for learning sleight of hand nor the budget for props. But I loved the guys, the air of mystery, the obligatory arcane white tie and tails, the beautiful assistant, the glamour in the ancient Scottish sense of an enchantment. I knew where Harry Houdini got his name, I knew who Dai Vernon was, I watched the Ed Sullivan show to catch Slydini, I have wandered the crowded dusty aisles of Tannen's Magic Shop (the same place where J.J. Abrams got his Mystery Box,), and I still bark in glee when Ricky Jay appears in a Mamet film.

So it was a fond visitation to read Adam Gopnik's piece in a recent New Yorker (March 17) about magicians, not just because of Gopnik's always superb style. Mostly it dealt with close-up artist Jamy Ian Swiss, a modern practitioner and legend in card manipulation, and a philosopher of style and motivation ... motivation that, with the word "magic" transmogrified mystically into "writing", holds very true for those of us who practice sleight of word instead.

"Magic only 'happens'," Gopnik quotes Swiss in the article, "in a spectator's mind. Everything else is a distraction. Magic talk on the Internet is a distraction. Magic contests are a distraction. Magic organizations are a distraction. The latest advertisement, the latest trick -- distractions. Methods for their own sake are a distraction. You cannot cross over into the world of magic until you put everything else aside and behind you - including your own desires and needs - and focus on bringing an experience to the audience. This is magic. Nothing else."

Focus on bringing an experience to the audience. In our daily labor to get the words out, in our efforts to Do The Work (you knew that was coming), I think we sometimes forget that we are, above all, working to please an audience. Some of us do it on or for a public stage, we're probably a little more desperate for instant gratification than the patient novelist. Our hardships, our trials, our sleepless nights and crumpled sheets of paper (another arcane image, yes?) have a purpose: to make the audience laugh, cry, wonder, feel outrage or sympathy, to agree or disagree but in the words of jazz great Sam Rivers, "At least they're feeling something!"

I was once told by a renowned graphic designer (who was the only live person I'd ever seen actually insert a drunken cartoon noise into a sentence), "You are not just a writer, my friend, you [Hic!] are an entertainer!" You may reject the label (I don't, I embrace it heartily), but you can't deny that our goal, our only goal, is to create an experience, and it works best when it is our experience. When not only do they feel something, but when we feel something. And that is magic.

Photographer's Rights

A post on the photo enthusiast's blog Photojojo presented a great roundup of the right to take pictures in public. We actually get this question a lot, as many of our members take their own pics in the course of reportage. The entire post is here, but here's a couple of high points:

Anyone in a public place can take pictures of anything they want. Public places include parks, sidewalks, malls, etc. Malls? Yeah. Even though it’s technically private property, being open to the public makes it public space.

People can be photographed if they are in public (without their consent) unless they have secluded themselves and can expect a reasonable degree of privacy. Kids swimming in a fountain? Okay. Somebody entering their PIN at the ATM? Not okay.

There are also links to the standards in Canada, the UK, Australia, and New Zealand. Here are downloadable .pdf documents for the US, and the UK.

Good things to know.

Make art

I hope you got a chance to watch the Oscars Sunday night, if only for one moment; when Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won the Best Song award. Two struggling musicians who were basically in a movie for a lark (Hansard was in the movie "Only" by accident, because nobody else would sing his songs) winning this major award and being so overjoyed and humble about it. (The video has been taken down on YouTube, I don't know why, after almost 400,000 views.)

Hansard's statement at the mic: "Make art. Make art."

There's a guy here in town who's known for "making art" out of some unusual things. Playwright and performance artist Brian Feldman brought his whole family into the act and stages their Hanukkah dinner as "The Feldman Dynamic" - in their house - and it is hysterical, even if you're not Jewish. This month he is leaping from a 12-foot ladder for Leap Day, for 24 hours, in front of City Hall in Orlando. I'll be there from 2-3 pm - not leaping, sort of a support person - because it's art. He's making art.

I'm reading a half-boring book about the TV show Inside the Actor's Studio (the first half of the book is the boring part). Jennifer Lopez has a wonderful view of art that applies to us all: "If you don't enjoy acting, if you don't enjoy doing the work, then don't do it. If you're doing it to get somewhere, then forget it. Because this is what being an actor is. It's doing the work, it's failing, it's getting up. It's nothing else."

There have been a few posts on Inked-In during the short time we've been open from people who are attempting to Do The Work, and feel they're failing. New member Shawn struggles with anxiety about his drumming. A long post run dealt with depression and how it attacks creativity. A casual conversation on our back porch and a newspaper article have somehow become an evening of jazz and a benefit concert, which I'm producing, because I consider it art. I also consider it very difficult, and a little scary; I feel the same way about my plays.

Art isn't easy. It probably shouldn't be. We do it because ... well, because. The answer "because we have to" is too pat, too simple, it smacks of egotism. I make art because I'm driven, you don't because you're inferior. Simple answers aren't becoming, or truthful.

We do it, those of us who do it, because we do it. Because it calls to us. And sometimes we don't do it. But if you lie back in the dark night, close your eyes and listen, very closely, the call is still there.

Do the Work, and trust.

Update: Here's a link to the Elizabeth Maupin's Orlando Sentinel piece about Brian Feldman's performance leaping, which will include the video (with cameo by a certain Burry co-conspirator)

Iain Banks' advice to writers ...

The Three Ps: practice, practice, practice. Writing is like everything else: the more you do it the better you get. Don't try to perfect as you go along, just get to the end of the damn thing. Accept imperfections. Get it finished and then you can go back. If you try to polish every sentence there's a chance you'll never get past the first chapter.

... more ...