Gooooooood morning, Blogosphere!
I trust everyone had a particularly fat Tuesday yesterday. I ate pounds of leftover birthday cake. It had naked baby pictures of me on it. Awkward.
I've just popped in between classes to drop this little update into your collective lap.
HCHS legend and PACA veteran, Lucy McRae is involved in a healthy number of theatrical activities.
Madame McRae will be playing LadyCapulet and understudying Nurse in Manhattanville College's production of Romeo & Juliet (a little-known melodrama by some dead British guy. I'll understand if none of you have heard of it).
This will take place March 22-25th.
But Lucy's duties do not end there. She is also supreme commandant of the box office for the school.
Lucy jests that "people can contact 914-323-7175 to hear my voice on the box office line."
I suggest you all do so.
In addition, Lucy's senior thesis of Yeats's Cathleen ni Houlihanwill be performed in the Drama Department's Senior Thesis Festival, on campus, April 18-22nd (exact performance times TBA. (that means to-be-announced)). And that's all gonna go down in The EX (blackbox) Theatre. Love that blackbox.
Little known fact: Blackbox theaters are built so that, in invent that the college crashes into the side of a mountain, some record will remain of the events leading up to the tragedy.
Lucy is still not done! The girl is on a roll!
She will be performing as El Dottore (The Mediocre Doctor) in her friend Monica Moreau's senior thesis, which is a piece outlining some basic scenarios of the Commedia dell Arte.
Lucy takes the theatre seriously. She's graduating May 12 of this year, and looking for a place in the Big Apple.
I will firmly suggest that some effort be made on our part to witness at least one of what promises to be a string of theatrical triumphs for the young Miss Lucy.
That Senior Thesis Festival sounds particularly diverting.
Rally 'round the ol' blog, boys . . . and girls. Let's get some goodwill flowin'.
And, lest we forget our other brothers and sisters of the arts:
Martina Desnoyers in Grease:
Tomorrow (8), Friday (8), Saturday (2,8), Sunday (2).
Four days, five shows.
You have no excuse not to miss it.
I don't care if you're in a straight-jacket at the bottom of a harbor somewhere. Dislocate your shoulder and get here! If Mel Gibson can do it, you can too. (That's on a bumpersticker I have.)
(Not really.)
I myself plan to go to Friday's show with a bevy of comrades. I hope to see you there.
Caitlin Szewczyk in Bye, Bye Birdie:
This is a moving epic about the extinction of the Californian condor.
(Not really.)
But this'll be on weekends from March 2nd to the 18th.
Send a lil' love her way.
Andrew Menard in West Side Story:
Well, more aptly put, above West Side Story.
He's the freakin' lighting director.
How nifty is that?
He's long been the light of our lives, now he'll light a bunch of dancing street-toughs.
Remember these, my friends. Show some gersh darn solidarity.
And be sure to send any information you get to either me
-mailto:-roofinjack@yahoo.com
-Facebook, (Richard Joseph Sugrue, HCC)
-MySpace, (http://www.myspace.com/garish_rude_cur)
-AIM, PiratesCry2
-Phone, (413)-532-2450
-Or telepathy.
Or Herr Goddu.
Or, simply comment on this blog.
The idea is to build a multi-regional theatrical spy network. As director of said network, I'd better put on an eye-patch and get an exotic pet. Like a llama, or an emu.
(That's some BNL humour, comin' atcha from the side!)
And now I'm off to fall asleep to The Maltese Falcon.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Let's Do the Time Warp Again
So last weekend I was part of a rather peculiar expedition.
In the wint'ry depths of February, I set out for the town of Worcester. My companions, traveling from afar both East and North, were Stephanie Lepine and Andrew LeTellier. We intended to pay a visit to our eccentric amigo, Anthony Celi. Somehow, through alcohol and imagination, we wound up in London in the 1870's. Don't ask me how it happened, everyone. Alls I know is we spent much of the night in Victorian England at a dress ball.
Tony's Victorian counterpart was Dr. Henry Jekyll, and, depending on Martini consumption, Mr. Edward Hyde. Andrew found work as an accident-prone chimney sweep, and Steph fit right in as . . . uh . . . a lady of the evening. I was Phileas Fogg, explorer extrodinaire and circumnavigator of the globe.
We danced the night away, oddly enough, not to 19th Century sonatas, but to current hip-hop hits and 1980's remixes. There must have been some sort of temporal anomaly.
You may not believe me. I realize this seems like a fairly incredible tale. However, pictures are available on Facebook.
Before the time-traveling fiasco (Italian for flask) we all treated ourselves to the finest Mexican food available at Worcester's own Texican Mills, and then attended what was to be the highlight of the evening: EJ Massa's final performance in David Mamet's Speed the Plow.
The show ran from February 8th through the 10th in the Little Theatre at WPI. The Little Theatre, named, I'm assuming, either for it's size or for it's founder, Simon Q. Little, is a delightful blackbox in which EJ also starred in Much Ado About Nothing.
Long ago, Tony, Andrew, and I tried to make it to that Shakespeare show, but failed miserably and ended up drowning our sorrows in enchiladas.
Fearing that history would repeat itself . . . (not the Victorian part, but the EJ's other show part) and we would also miss this last performance, we redoubled our efforts and succeeded in getting great seats for this spectactular prodcuction.
EJ has always possessed and air of maturity on stage that gave him a good deal of credibilty as an actor. In this play, about a jaded, fast-talking Hollywood executive torn between his best friend and a hot receptionist, EJ's maturity came through once again, and he breezily skipped away with several key scenes.
What made the play even better was it's nature: it was a comedy and it was current. Granted, it was written in the late 80's, and even though it's a comedy, it is underneath a shark-toothed satire. Still, though, to see EJ get to ham it up a bit, to use some of his gloriously hilarious facial expressions, vocal pronounciations, and ticks made the show truly enjoyable.
But EJ went farther than simple comedy to give shallow producer Bobby Gould a degree of halting vulnerability. It was a delight to see him perform.
To anyone who missed the show: Shame on you!
To EJ: Kudos!
To Tony: You still owe me 15 bucks.
But enough looking into the past.
Let us cast our gaze, now, my friends, toward the future. Shining with all the glitz and promise of a three dollar scratch ticket.
First on the agenda is the siempre caliente Martina Desnoyers, who will be starring as Betty Rizzo in the Westfield State Musical Theater Guild's production of Grease. It runs from Thursday, February 22nd to Sunday, February 25th.
The show starts at 8:00 p.m., Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, with 2:00 p.m. matinees on Saturday and Sunday.
It will be at Westfield State College, Parenzo Hall, in the Denver Auditorium.
Yer lookin' at anywhere from 2 to 6 Washingtons-a ticket, so break open that piggy bank and head out on the town.
Let's all show up to see Martina and her Pink Ladies strut their stuff.
Also on the horizon:
Chaotic Chicadee Caitlin Szewczyk will be in a production of Bye, Bye, Birdie, with Troy Michigan's own Rigdedale Players, from March 2nd through the 18th.
I realize most of us will not be able to witness this delightful show firsthand, but let's send her some love and encouragement anyway.
And Catholic Casanova Andrew Mendard will be lighting director for Boston University's West Side Story.
When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way.
Speaking of which, I had better jet. It's getting late and that Southern Comfort aint gonna drink itself.
Keep checking for more updates, and feel free to comment with thoughts, ideas, or special intentions to be potentially mentioned.
In the wint'ry depths of February, I set out for the town of Worcester. My companions, traveling from afar both East and North, were Stephanie Lepine and Andrew LeTellier. We intended to pay a visit to our eccentric amigo, Anthony Celi. Somehow, through alcohol and imagination, we wound up in London in the 1870's. Don't ask me how it happened, everyone. Alls I know is we spent much of the night in Victorian England at a dress ball.
Tony's Victorian counterpart was Dr. Henry Jekyll, and, depending on Martini consumption, Mr. Edward Hyde. Andrew found work as an accident-prone chimney sweep, and Steph fit right in as . . . uh . . . a lady of the evening. I was Phileas Fogg, explorer extrodinaire and circumnavigator of the globe.
We danced the night away, oddly enough, not to 19th Century sonatas, but to current hip-hop hits and 1980's remixes. There must have been some sort of temporal anomaly.
You may not believe me. I realize this seems like a fairly incredible tale. However, pictures are available on Facebook.
Before the time-traveling fiasco (Italian for flask) we all treated ourselves to the finest Mexican food available at Worcester's own Texican Mills, and then attended what was to be the highlight of the evening: EJ Massa's final performance in David Mamet's Speed the Plow.
The show ran from February 8th through the 10th in the Little Theatre at WPI. The Little Theatre, named, I'm assuming, either for it's size or for it's founder, Simon Q. Little, is a delightful blackbox in which EJ also starred in Much Ado About Nothing.
Long ago, Tony, Andrew, and I tried to make it to that Shakespeare show, but failed miserably and ended up drowning our sorrows in enchiladas.
Fearing that history would repeat itself . . . (not the Victorian part, but the EJ's other show part) and we would also miss this last performance, we redoubled our efforts and succeeded in getting great seats for this spectactular prodcuction.
EJ has always possessed and air of maturity on stage that gave him a good deal of credibilty as an actor. In this play, about a jaded, fast-talking Hollywood executive torn between his best friend and a hot receptionist, EJ's maturity came through once again, and he breezily skipped away with several key scenes.
What made the play even better was it's nature: it was a comedy and it was current. Granted, it was written in the late 80's, and even though it's a comedy, it is underneath a shark-toothed satire. Still, though, to see EJ get to ham it up a bit, to use some of his gloriously hilarious facial expressions, vocal pronounciations, and ticks made the show truly enjoyable.
But EJ went farther than simple comedy to give shallow producer Bobby Gould a degree of halting vulnerability. It was a delight to see him perform.
To anyone who missed the show: Shame on you!
To EJ: Kudos!
To Tony: You still owe me 15 bucks.
But enough looking into the past.
Let us cast our gaze, now, my friends, toward the future. Shining with all the glitz and promise of a three dollar scratch ticket.
First on the agenda is the siempre caliente Martina Desnoyers, who will be starring as Betty Rizzo in the Westfield State Musical Theater Guild's production of Grease. It runs from Thursday, February 22nd to Sunday, February 25th.
The show starts at 8:00 p.m., Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, with 2:00 p.m. matinees on Saturday and Sunday.
It will be at Westfield State College, Parenzo Hall, in the Denver Auditorium.
Yer lookin' at anywhere from 2 to 6 Washingtons-a ticket, so break open that piggy bank and head out on the town.
Let's all show up to see Martina and her Pink Ladies strut their stuff.
Also on the horizon:
Chaotic Chicadee Caitlin Szewczyk will be in a production of Bye, Bye, Birdie, with Troy Michigan's own Rigdedale Players, from March 2nd through the 18th.
I realize most of us will not be able to witness this delightful show firsthand, but let's send her some love and encouragement anyway.
And Catholic Casanova Andrew Mendard will be lighting director for Boston University's West Side Story.
When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way.
Speaking of which, I had better jet. It's getting late and that Southern Comfort aint gonna drink itself.
Keep checking for more updates, and feel free to comment with thoughts, ideas, or special intentions to be potentially mentioned.
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