theaterboy®

Jeffrey Carlson on The View

Back in town from a week in exile with the Georgia-Carolina contingent of Clan Tboy. Turns out that Tboy's sister, who's a stay-at-home mom, watches The View now and then.

So there's Tboy, struggling mightily to survive in a household with three nephews shrieking at various decibel levels and nothing but decaf in the pantry, and Rosie O'Donnell's mooning over James Brolin and by extension his lovely wife, which just makes everyone in the room a little ill.  So we were about to bail out of The View, but then somebody said something about Jeffrey Carlson, so we didn't. Because Tboy knows all about Taboo and all, and he's heard something about Carlson doing All My Children, but he's vague on the details, and besides it's the day after Christmas and he can't go to the party Chez Mendenhall because he's in Augusta, so why bother changing the channel?

Aaaaaaanyway. So we watch Carlson, and it turns out he's playing this transgender rock star on All My Children, so it's like Taboo again, only not so much. And all Tboy could think watching this interview was, Gee, are those his eyebrows, or the character's?

Also: He's going to make an interesting Hamlet.

It's a couple of minutes in, after the blah-blah-blah at the table.  Enjoy.

An invitation.

Tboy is promoting this from the comments -- because he thinks LuckySpinster is right.  You guys don't engage as much as you used to.

It's not that you're not visiting.  The statcounter numbers are pretty much the same as always, and they're by and large coming from the same places. (Hi, Shakespeare Theatre folks.  Hullo, Georgetown and AU and NYU and Pomona College. Greetings, people who've already upgraded to Windows Vista and people who habitually visit Stephen Gregory Smith first. Special shout-outs to those of you searching for information on Karl Miller and Tara Giordano and Matt Gardiner, or on Elaine Stritch's dentures or how to break your lease at the Lansburgh. And an extra-curious, if mildly confused, salute to whatever denizen of Brazil was Googling for " 'creamy on the inside' sex.")

But Tboy digresses.  The Spinster suggests, shortly after a tart observation about the consistency of Tboy's posts, that "it seems to me there's some sort of fatwa against commenting here."  While Tboy suspects "fatwa" is a strong word, he is aware that some of you, depending on where you work, may face official disapproval and perhaps even reprisals for participating in a conversation on this blog. (He thinks that's regrettable, possibly even pathetic, but he understands why some of you might have backed off.)

The rest of you, though:  Tboy seconds the Spinster's invitation. How can you and your colleagues make sure Washington's deep-pocketed arts boosters know about the terrific work some of the smaller outfits in town are doing?

Money quote from her comment:

So many talented, driven people run theatres that consistently do absolutely stunning work with incredible vision and integrity ...and they produce shows for anywhere from $5K to $15K (or less) while most all the artists involved live at or below the poverty level or deplete themselves at soul-crushing jobs.

Tboy thinks that sounds a lot like long stretches of his career, come to think of it. But he digresses again.

Weigh in, won't you?

Tboy is unavailable this week.

He's busy learning how to snowboard.  You'd think he'd stick to skiing, which he already knows how to do fairly well -- if only because for the first time in several months, Tboy has no more than one major undertaking to attend to. (This past Saturday, finally, was the night of the fundraiser he'd been working on since at least August.)

But no, Tboy needed another project. Or at least Dr. H did, and Tboy has gone meekly along. The upshot: He spent a significant portion of the day becoming reacquainted with the various segments of musculature in his posterior, largely by a method involving their abrupt and repeated introduction to Vail Mountain.

In short, and many of you will privately be delighted to learn this, he is now in fairly serious pain.

Nothing a hot tub can't fix, though, and happily there's one of those just downstairs. So he leaves you all to your Tuesday evening entertainments. He'll see you next week.

Bob's dad ...

A couple of you have asked me for Bob's address, for the sending of flowers and cards and such.  The family's actually suggesting donations in lieu of flowers, for those so inclined, to the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research.

Cards, though, I'm sure he'd be grateful for. The address is:

Bob Mondello
c/o Washington City Paper
2390 Champlain Street NW
Washington DC 20009

Thanks.

Another introduction, and another farewell

At 12:58 p.m. today, Tboy acquired a third nephew: Nicholas Michael Gaddini, to be known as Nico. (Did Tboy's sister marry into an Italian family much?) The young beast was 8 pounds 12 ounces at birth.  Tboy will add a photo, with great joy, as soon as they put the little hat on and take one.

The joy today, though, comes a little alloyed:  Anthony Louis Mondello, Bob's father, died earlier this morning after several years of life in the  disorienting twilight of Parkinson's disease. 

Bob's written an obituary, and I'm glad he did: His father lived quite a life.

(Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more.

Me, I'm calling my sister in a little while, and I'll be going down to see my new nephew as soon as I can. You: Take a moment while the light gleams, and enjoy it.

Anthony Louis Mondello, 1919-2006

Anthony Louis Mondello, who as General Counsel of the U.S. Civil Service Commission, recast federal regulations in ways that affected millions of government employees in the 1970s -- eliminating loyalty oaths, discouraging discrimination based on sexual orientation, and even permitting Postal Service employees to wear short pants in hot weather -- died this morning in Bethesda of complications from Parkinson’s Disease. He was 87.

Ladies and gentlemen...

... we give you The Mead Center for American Theater.

Because when you give $35 million, you can have your name on as many buildings as you want.

Gilbert and Jaylee Mead's gift is, as rumored, the largest single contribution to an American regional theater. Ever. It included a lead-off gift when the campaign for the new Arena campus started roughly 5 years back, plus a $20 million challenge issued a year ago -- Arena was required to raise a matching sum, in increments no smaller than $500K, with a total of no more than 20 gifts. 

In other words, it was a big gift contingent on, and meant to inspire, big gifts.

So actually Arena has hit the $100 million mark, which leaves $20 million to go.  Executive Director Stephen Richard sounds confident about financing the gap, though. There's no groundbreaking set yet -- construction bids are still out -- but the target start is 12 to 24 months.

Technically, the name on the signs this morning was Arena Stage at the Mead Center for American Theater, but Arena types say there's still some fuzziness on whether they'll be content with a shorthand.  Tboy expects he'll probably use "Arena Stage" for the company and the Mead Center label for the complex.  But who knows.

UPDATE, Thursday a.m.:  Truscott's story is in the Post today, with a couple of cute quotes from the Meads. 

Speaking of whom: Tboy may just be in a sentimental frame of mind this week, but it seemed to him that the love in the room for those two was palpable when they were introduced at yesterday's thingy.  People stood and cheered, which you'd expect, but the cheering was lusty and the applauding arms were held high, the way people do for performers who really knock one out of the house.

Major money announcement due shortly at Arena Stage

They're gonna name the new building and announce a fundraising milestone -- Tboy's gonna take a leap and say they've hit $85 million.  That's a wild guess, by the way.

But there will also apparently name the donor behind what's supposedly the largest single contribution to a regional theater in history.  Or at least that's what Tboy thinks he heard yesterday.

More after the actual announcement, which is set for 10:30.

Cognitive dissonance, continued.

Mary Cheney is pregnant? Oy.  Wonder if they'll stay in Virginia or head off to New Jersey.  Or Maryland, even?

(Them boys in that photo in the Md. story, by the way? Those are Dr. H's friends Dave & Patrick. Tboy taught line dances at their wedding a year or so ago. He looks forward to the possibility that they'll be legal soon.)

Pollyanna wouldn't have made a good critic.

Nor much of a playwright, either.

Which is why Tboy was surprised to see the thoughtful playwright and critic George Hunka headline a post with the distinctly Pollyannish "Let's All Be Nice."  Never fear, though: Turns out that by "nice" he mostly means "honest."  And maybe "respectful in our disagreements." 

His point, if Tboy understands it correctly, short form: Blogs and bloggers aren't going anywhere, but serious conversation about the arts in other media sure is. (Where's it going? Away.)

So blogs and online journals are among the few forums left for that serious conversation, and artists need to come to grips with that--at least with the bloggers who put some thought and some passion into what they're writing about. A knee-jerk, bruised-ego reaction to criticism, complaints, even snark--whether it's about the art made or the business of making it--doesn't engage, advance, or even acknowledge the conversation.

Long form, on the topic of "criticism, the blogosphere, and the nexus of the artist and the on-line critic, " is over here. It's worth a read.