Critical

I really hope this doesn't come across as preachy..it probably will..but its my blog and its currently the only thing I can write that isn't turned in for a grade and I need an outlet, so if you are offended, sorry I'm not sorry. Write your own blog.

I've been trying to find a way to put this for quite some time....and I have been avoiding it because I know it to be a controversial topic among many of my friends and colleagues. As a practitioner of the fine arts, it is hard enough to make friends with people that can so easily be viewed as your competition, and this is in no way a reaction to any one person or group of people, but just an observation that I have made time and time again in both the educational and professional realms.

Students of the arts are trained to be critical. It takes a critical ear to tune the harmonies in the chord, to clean up the notes in a riff (a melisma for you opera folk =P ), to maintain a consistent placement. It is essential that one develops an observant and critical eye for mannerisms, for tension, for characterization. It is encouraged in lessons, studios, labs and classes that we develop a language to deliver these critiques, and in the end, even though it isn't usually said in so many words, we are forced to pass judgement on not only the art or the music or the performance, (or whatever you want to call it) but on the individual as well. In the end, it is as simple as saying if it was good or if it was bad. If it was worthy or if it was unworthy.

The arts thrive on criticism. Without these opinions, there would be no structure; no balance. Pity the voice teacher that doesn't have a discerning ear, but pity their students more, because they are the ones whose future careers, or lack thereof, suffer. Criticism is needed. It is how we teach, and it is how we learn. It is one of the strongest driving forces behind ambition and focus. It inspires some, and strikes fear and doubt into the hearts and minds of others. Careers and reputations are made and broken through opinions. It can be seen time and time again, coursing through all forms of artistry. It is an incredibly powerful form of expression, and thus, it should be wielded carefully. However, at this particular school for performing arts, as well as countless others, one can see and hear critical value statements thrown around every day, as if one was discussing the weather, for lack of a better cliche. Unwarranted praise for one entity and unjustified damnation of another. This need to critique and be critiqued is paramount in our training, but I believe it is equally important to be able to turn off the critical eye/ear/mind and see what is innately good and present.

I think that is one of the most important and difficult lessons I learned in the past five or so years and I still work on it every day. There are many ways to do good. The hard part is recognizing the good and giving it the appropriate acknowledgement. It is so difficult for all of us to stop jumping to value statements, both negative and positive. I mean, when you're in a masters program, there really isn't anyone that just outright sucks, so why are people still passing out that label? Why can't we all just get off our high horses and congratulate each other on our successes and support each other through our failures? Because that is not the way we were taught.

Without exception, each of my performance professors has lectured on the adage that, in the world of professional theater, you can never stop working on yourself because you'll never be good enough..there will always be someone right behind you who is just as talented or as pretty or has just as good a belt as you do. One thing that is rarely mentioned in these lectures, is that continuous self-improvement doesn't have to turn you into an elitist. We're all made to be so terrified at the prospect of someone else blossoming into something more beautiful than we are, that we refuse to give each other the genuine support and encouragement that is not only deserved, but needed.

So often, we jump at the opportunity to demonstrate our musical superiority with negative value statements.

"That (whatever singer) sucks because they've only been in national tours - they'll probably never book a show on Broadway."

"I hate (title of song). Everyone sings it and its not even that well written."

"I don't know why everyone sings songs from (title of a musical). Its just like (title of another, equally brilliant musical) except not nearly as good."

"How did (person in my program) get into this program? It sounds like they've never had a voice lesson in their life."

Who the f*ck do we think we are? Truly. We wonder why theater people are so polarizing to the general population? I think this is the answer. We throw out all of our opinions as facts and we are, unfortunately, proud of it. There is no filter. There is no apology. There is, however, a certain high you get from being apparently "knowledgeable" about the arts. From having an opinion. To know that you have seen more shows on Broadway than any other person in your friend group. To have the power to condemn a performer or a performance or a show or a composer, just for the hell of it. The worst part, is that we're all guilty of it. Myself included.

So I ask myself, where is the good in this? Well, I can seem to find very little. We are certainly flexing our critical muscles, but at what expense?

Alice Ripley quoted John Fitzgerald Kennedy during her Tony acceptance speech for her role in Next to Normal with this statement: "I am certain that after the dust of centuries has passed over our cities, we too will be remembered not for our victories or defeats in battle or in politics, but for our contribution to the human spirit."

Life is far too short and far too beautiful to have so much judgement being thrust into it. There is already enough hate and disagreement in the world; we don't need to contribute to that. After all, our job as artists is creation. We have the privilege and the responsibility to create. The only thing left for us, is to choose what we will be creating and what impression we want to leave.

Happy October,

A

How to create autumn, even if it doesn't exist where you dwell.

After being mopey and pouting about all the things I missed in my last post, I decided to pout some more because I added another item to the list: fall. You know, the time of year when everything outside gets crisp and colorful? When delicious things are baked in your oven and you eat them with people that you enjoy? When you wear lovely sweaters and cardigans and scarves because its fashionable AND its appropriate to the climate?

Cinnamon and spice and everything nice. And pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks. OM NOM NOM.

Yeah, well, in case you missed the last 7 memos, I live in the desert and fall doesn't exist here. Or at least, it doesn't exist when I think it should....(September until the end of November). Apparently it gets chilly for about 2 weeks in January and everyone in Phoenix freaks out and wears snowsuits because it dips below 50 degrees. Well I decided that I'm not going to wait for those two weeks, and last Wednesday I pulled out my scarves. Not kidding.

To clarify, I didn't wear them outside because that's dangerous. I nearly die of dehydration and heat exhaustion when I'm tooling around in shorts and a tank top.....a scarf would be the end of me. HOWEVER, the basement of the music building, where I have one of my singing classes, is colder than most freezers I know. Its jarring to walk through 100+ degree heat and then go down to the basement where it feels like late October. Not to mention that there is not a costume change for this transition. Still in the shorts and the tank. So I whipped out my scarves last week and while I wasn't exactly fashionable in my bi-polar (clever, right?....no? okay.) wardrobe, I certainly wasn't cold.

So I've decided to make a how-to entry for fall. For me, here are the things that quantify/qualify the occurrence of fall: fall clothing, fall food/cooking, fall home decor, fall weather and fall activities. I'm pretty sure I can imitate most of these requirements with semi-good success. IDK. You be the judge.

First, fall clothing. Well, in my haste to pack as quickly as possible and with my intention to not fill the car with unnecessary things, I failed to bring ANY sweaters with me to Arizona. I check my closet almost every day to see if any of them have magically appeared (I love Harry Potter) but alas, I apparently need to do some more work on my summoning charms. Drat. However, I have....how do you say....umm.....a gaggle of wool socks? (I discussed the usage of this term with a certain Fullerton this morning) No, a stash. Yes, a stash of wool socks at my disposal and one of my favorite activities is to wander around my apartment in my shorts and wool socks, regardless of the outside temperature. Its fun. Try it. Plus, its easier to slide around the tile floors with wool socks, than it is with regular socks....which is what I do when I'm supposed to be practicing. Apparently not much has changed since my undergrad. Whoops.

Next, fall food and cooking. Well I love fall food, but I'm not much of a cook as of yet, so I'll need to work on that. Recently, there was an allegedly delicious recipe for fall-type muffins that was passed around on le Facebook by some of my fall-loving college friends. I was about to attempt the baking of said muffins until I considered the repercussions of my failing to make them correctly. To start off, I don't yet own muffing baking equipment, ie. the muffin pan or muffin cups. And I've never made muffins. Eh, that's not true. One time, the boy person let me stir the ingredients for some muffins in the dish, but he did all the hard work and I wasn't paying that close of attention, so I don't remember the details. Plus, I'm pretty sure if I ruined the muffins, it would be a pretty huge setback for my cooking confidence. So far, I've only ruined dinner twice and breakfast 4 times. And two of the breakfast-fails were because I was too tired to function and probably shouldn't have been let near an oven anyway. All's well that ends well. Or something like that. For now, I will stick to eating Target-bought granola and drinking the Pumpkin Spice Lattes from Starbucks. Have you had one? They're life changing. You'll probably cry and have a midlife crisis, or something to that effect, so be prepared.

The toughie: Fall Home Decor. I'm not really sure what qualifies as fall home decor. Don't get me wrong, I have a huge appreciation for the moments when I walk into a house and have the sensation that it is properly equipped for the enjoyment of fall, I just can't put my finger on exactly what qualifies as a specifically fall-oriented decoration. So far, I've made three fall adjustments to my living space. I got a fall-colored afghan. Its brown and orange and leaf-colored and its wonderful to snuggle in and it smells like fresh linens because I dipped it in Febreze. The smell was overwhelming at first, but now its perfect. My second purchase was not entirely thought-through when I carried it out and you can tell in the presentation. I bought some fake leaves from my favorites store. I feel shameful even when I write that. Having come from a home where fake plants are valued over real plants because of their low-maitenence qualities, I felt like I was making a good choice. But when the fake plants that you buy are cloth leaves in a bag, and when you scatter your fake leaves around your already too-small kitchen table, and then you're nervous to eat there because you might ruin the arrangement that you spent 20 minutes on, you might find yourself on the list of nominees for "People Least Qualified to Decorate a Home, 2011." My final item, however is a winner. Candles. Cinnamon and Pumpkin scented candles. They give off a nice glow and they make any space smell like you rubbed potpourri on your face. I love it.....until I get nervous that I left my candles burning while I'm at school. Luckily, I never forget to blow my candles out...unfortunately, I just never remember actually doing it. Let me tell you, the flop-sweats are a thing even if you don't have bangs, and especially if you are worried that you're burning down your house while you're supposed to be learning fake-acoustics. #distracting

Fall weather. This is another toughie, especially if you already know you suck at summoning charms. Clearly the weather-changing spells are out of your league. So I make do. My favorite thing to do in this category, is to turn my air conditioning on the highest fan setting and the lowest temperature setting and then ram around my apartment in sweatpants and a blanket. I used to do this when I was in 6th grade, but my parents got mad at me for jacking up the energy bills. Well now that I live with myself, I can make my own decisions and if my need to feel cold overrides my need to eat for a week or two, so be it. Sacrifices people, sacrifices. Plus, I've always had a weird fascination about what it would actually be like to live as a starving artist. Well after this next energy bill, I just might find out.....anyway. Who doesn't love waking up in the morning to a cold room, but having it be toasty warm under the covers? Where do I sign up?

Finally, fall activities. I played football last week and it wasn't by accident. I found some boys from a frat and they asked if I would play. It was early and I was hungry, so in my dazed confusion, I said yes. It was tackle football. I think my hip is broken. Small price to pay....well I guess I won't be doing A Chorus Line anytime soon. It was fun though. I'm trying to think of fall activities and I'm coming up with nothing. My humble opinion is that any activity that is performed in the fall is automatically better because of it being fall. Right? Going on walks? Better in the fall because of the leaves. Cooking? Better in the fall because there are fall-inspired ingredients and recipes. Going out on the town? Better in the fall because of the plethora of fall clothing options.

Well, I guess I've sacrificed fall for the next two years in order to get this silly piece of paper from ASU. But then its straight back to the Twin Cities to enjoy autumn.....and the other seasons as well, for in the other seasons, I anticipate autumn. Until then, I will ponder about baking fall muffins and I will try not to burn down my house. Wish me luck.

A

Comfort

Comfort is an interesting thing. People seek it out at huge costs. It can come in an endless variety of forms and combinations. It can be scary and awful when we're not comfortable. So we do what we can to make things work.

As a hoarder of apparel, sweatpants, sweaters and fuzzy socks feel just right. As the victim of a food addiction, corndogs, pizza and macaroni fill me up just right. As a musician, a tuneful melody and a well-placed lyric ignites my passion. As a believer in ambiance, matching color palates, tasteful artwork and clean lines make my house a home. As a family boy, a dinner with the parents and sister makes me feel like a kid again. As a friend, laughter, banter and memories bring me back to Decorah. As the lover of a boy, a quiet glance, a hand in mine and a kiss goodnight keep me flustered for quite some time.

Well, my friends....

I don't know if you know this or not, but some of these things don't exist in my corner of the desert. So, like I said above, I'm trying to make do. My house is decked out with art and curtains and throw pillows to the point that you could very well think that Martha Stewart had gotten completely sloshed, had a severe lapse of judgement, and moved to Phoenix. Alas, she didn't. But I read her book and I like her taste.

My refrigerator and cupboards are filled with every kind of macaroni that is available at Target. Not kidding. There are 7 flavors. I had the Buffalo flavor tonight and it gave me heartburn. But it was worth it. OHHHH, was it worth it. The price I pay for eating the food I love is insane. After some meals, I have to curl up on my couch with Constantine and together, we weep about my burning esophagus. And I haven't even made a dent into the stash of pizzas I have in my freezer. Honestly, its overwhelming to the point that I'm quite positive that I could open a Pizza Hut.

My clothing options are limited in the desert and if I were to attempt to wear sweatpants and a sweater, I would surely die of heat exhaustion within the hour. So for now, tank tops and short-shorts will have to do. HOWEVER, I have a plethora of scarves hanging in my closet that are too ridiculously cute to not wear at some point. Dearest November and December -- GET HERE. Tenderly, Andy. Maybe the single most devastating (non-important) thing about Phoenix is the lack of fall. Fall is my very favorite time of year. It doesn't exist here. That means immediate dismissal from the list of places I would be willing to live in for longer than a year or two.

One amazing thing here in the desert is ASU itself. The musical theater/opera program here is wonderful. The professors are so knowledgeable and so encouraging, which now that I am writing it, sounds a bit generic, but I write it with genuine sincerity.

I miss my family. That's pretty basic though, so I don't think that needs any explanation.

As far as my friends go, I have about 9 of them now, which is 9 more than I had 3 weeks ago. I count this as a huge success because I clearly recall telling the Boy Person that if I came home for Christmas break having made 6 friends, I would be satisfied. Well I can tell you with a good amount of certainty, that these 9 people are nice humans who have welcomed me to their world in the sand and I am grateful for them.

In my first month here, I have discovered that this school of music is like any other school of music, and is populated with people that are obsessed (rightfully so) with their craft. They are only able to (or willing to) converse about the latest vocal pedagogy or the best audition songs or their immense knowledge of obscure Broadway shows or whatever other musical topics you can think of. I am so thankful for having learned in the last year that, for me, there is a lot more to life than technique and shop-talk. I want to live a life outside my profession and if that makes me less good at theater and music, so be it. I have an admiration for those that are so incredibly dedicated to their craft, but I do not envy their chosen path.

As far as my other friends go, there seems to have been an adopted pact that states that everyone must move as far away from each other as possible. My closest friends from college have spread out, not only across the country, but across the world. Its sometimes hard to imagine that just a short while ago, we were all sitting in the same small little room, eating spaghetti and drinking wine (they were drinking wine; I was drinking rum....keeping it classy) and laughing about being fake-bad....and now, we are out and about in a big way. The best part is, that if any of us were to have guessed then, where we'd be right now, our guesses wouldn't have even been close. However, I have the feeling that each of us is on the right path, in one way or another, and that is comforting.

The Boy Person. Oh, the Boy Person. The only goodbye that sucked more than when I had to say goodbye to him in Minneapolis, was the goodbye that occurred at the end of his visit here in Phoenix, 2 weeks ago. Someone once said something about how love hurts, and let me tell you, its true. I was at Barnes and Noble a few months ago, and in my desperation to adequately prepare for this whole moving-away thing, I flipped through the pages of the book "Long Distance Relationships for Dummies." Thank the Baby Jesus that I didn't buy it. It had all these rules and regulations and timelines and junk that probably would have given me an ulcer the size of Texas. Luckily, a wise friend who we shall call JogieBear, told me the only thing I need to remember how to do, is communicate openly and honestly about everything. This has never been a problem with the Boy Person and I, so we're doing our very best. I'm trying to appreciate the situation with its new parameters, and so far, the best thing I've come up with was best stated in a tweet: long distance relationships teach you that you will be grateful to spend every day together, someday. I can't wait for that day. But I'll have to, allegedly.

The most positive aspect of my time in the desert so far: I'm not dead yet.

I've survived heat, dehydration, a terrible diet, lack of familiarity, loneliness, acoustics, spiders, a scorpion, a non-Nordic choir, and a credit card that sometimes begs me to buy a 1-way ticket to home. But for better or for worse, this is home for now....and while there is an unforgivable amount of beige in this state, I won't be one to follow suit.

Be well,

A

Some things I've learned...

So I just finished my first full week of classes here in le desert and I think it's probably a good idea to take stock of the things I've learned, not just in the past week, but in the (exactly) two weeks since I left the Twin Cities.

In no particular order. Well, maybe chronologically, but not really.

First, driving across the country is a mostly horrifying experience. I'm sure most of the states we drove through have redeeming qualities, they just didn't reveal themselves to us at that particular time. Upside, it never felt so good to just be able to get up and walk after TWENTY-SIX HOURS.

Second, the act of moving to a new place may be one of the most traumatic things I've ever experienced. That might give you a clue to the fact that I haven't had very many devastating things happen in my life, but in all seriousness, moving is quite frightening. For a long time, the whole AZ seemed like a far-off plan, and then suddenly I was in a car with my sister and all my things and I was driving through the panhandle of Oklahoma. Needless to say, I was not mentally prepared to make this transition. The last year of my life has been blissful and I had no intention of halting that experience, but alas, I promised myself that I would follow through this time, so here we go.

Third, the act of moving is EXPENSIVE. Good God. Have you seen the gas prices? It's also not to my advantage that when I finished college, I discovered that many of the fancy decor that I had invested in over the last 4 years was either neon, stained with something (thankfully) unrecognizable, or advertising Budweiser. Needless to say, I'm not currently living in a frat house, so all that stuff needed to go. I mean, I could have easily survived with just the amenities of a table, bed, chair, etc……but what can I say? I need my place of residence to feel like it is mine. So that means curtains, lamps, dressers, wall art, candles. I can now recognize almost all the employees at the local Target by department. Someone should take away my credit cards. Seriously. Don't even get me started on how much internet costs. Ugh. Woof.

Fourth, I miss my support system. I'm not one to really take things for granted that often, but it's shocking to be in a huge metropolitan area, at one of the biggest universities in the country, to be surrounded by people, and still feel so incredibly alone. I liken it to anytime I'm in New York. So much hustle and bustle, but the amount of anonymity is overwhelming. I miss being able to come home and talk with my parents or harass my sister. I miss working every day with the colleagues that I have built relationships with over the past 15 months. I miss meeting up with my college friends around town to catch up on things and grab dinner and drinks. I miss ramming around the city, or even just hanging out with the boy person. To be honest, I miss people in general. This isn't like my undergrad experience where there were forced personal interactions for the freshmen. You know, the ones where they make you take a random number of sheets of toilet paper and then you have to say that many things about yourself to the group? Awful, I know. But alas, I could certainly use one of those activities right about now. The people here are certainly friendly, but it's definitely a challenge to be one of the only new students entering the program. Stay tuned on this one; I'm hoping it will remedy itself sooner rather than later.

Fifth, the thing where they say that small-college professors are so much more personable than big-university professors is completely untrue, at least from what I've experienced so far. The professors here at ASU are wonderful. Each one of them has shown an unsolicited personal investment in my well being, and that reminds me so much of why I had such a great undergrad experience. I'm so excited to learn from these new people, and so far, this program seems to be exactly what I need in order to take the next step, both personally and professionally.

Sixth, I am not outdoorsy. I can certainly do my fair share of playing when it's Minnesota or Iowa style outdoors, but Arizona outdoors is a whole other thang. There's literally a cactus in my front yard. I really want to touch it to see if it hurts as much as they say it does. Is that bad to do do do do do…..? YES. YES, IT IS. I had my second failed attempt at commuting out here earlier this week when I decided to purchase a bike. I figured that while the 3-mile trip to school is not suitable for walking, it would definitely be doable on a bike. Right? Right.

WRONG.

Well, it would have been fine, had both foot pedals fallen off about halfway to campus. The first one fell off, and I couldn't screw it back on, so I continued to pedal with just one foot, which is awkward enough without being in the middle of a busy road with mostly college students judging the crap out of you. (This is where the anonymity is to my benefit.) Then, without warning, the other pedal fell off. Awesome. Exasperated, I took shelter from the 114 degree heat (wish I was exaggerating) in the shade of a Taco Bell. No, I did not get a chicken gordita supreme, even though I could hear it taunting me through the drive-in window. I tried to fix the other pedal, but to no avail. Thus, I spent the next mile of my journey sitting on my bike and propelling it forward with my feet. I did this until I saw myself in the reflection of a store-front window and decided that if I was planning on making any friends during my time in Phoenix, I had better stop tooling around town on my broke-down bicycle and just walk it the rest of the way. And this incident was the second time that I was convinced I was going to die from heat exhaustion. True story. Wish it wasn't.

Seventh, I'm in the right career path. Every time I go to class to learn about acting or dancing or singing or history or acoustics or whatever it may be, I can't stop smiling like a giddy child. I'm so excited to be able to wake up every day and go learn about the things that I'm passionate about. This week, I've had the opportunity to perform and watch my colleagues do the same and I'm so grateful to be surrounded by individuals who care so deeply about their craft. One of my professors pulled me aside after class on Wednesday and told me that he could tell that I was a total musical theater nerd and how excited he was to work with me. Heartwarming. Because it's true.

I thought that I had grown up a lot in the year since graduating from Luther. Here, I'm finding that I have a whole different set of challenges to deal with. It's daunting, but it's comforting to know that there is already a light at the end of the tunnel. It's very small, but it's there.

"It may feel like quite a ride, but it's turning out to be life going just perfectly." Or something like that.

Best,

A

So I accidentally moved to the desert....oops.

Welp, after over a year of hemming and hawing and playing the piano, I finally bit the bullet and moved to the desert. Not that moving to the desert was the actual goal, but starting grad school was. Before I continue, I must apologize for not having posted anything in MONTHS. Sorry. I was busy living my life so I could have things to write about on here. It's cyclical, you see? Ta da.

Anywho. A lot has happened since we (myself and whoever you are) have corresponded. A whole entire summer has happened, in fact. I'll give you the sparknotes version to catch you up. I music directed the musical "Footloose" for a theater company in the Twin Cities and it was a total blast. The cast was obscenely talented and the rest of the production team was a dream to work with. My favorite of pretty much any show I'm involved with is watching the transformation from auditions to performance. To see the full arc of building a show is truly inspiring, especially when one appreciates the scope of putting up a theatrical event. SO MUCH has to happen to make everything work. Truly a collaborative experience. I'm also excited because I've been asked back to music direct "Cabaret" for the same company next summer! Its nice to know that I did my job well enough that they wanted me back again and its also a huge relief to know that I don't have to be looking for work as soon as I'm done with spring semester. When I wasn't in rehearsal or performances for Footloose, I was teaching. I logged about 450 hours of classroom and studio time and I found that it was a decent activity to fill up time. HA. Kidding. I don't think I often realize just how lucky I am, but I tried to take stock of that as often as I could this summer. It isn't often that a theater artist can make a living entirely from their art, but through a ton of luck and some help from my colleagues, I lined up enough gigs to both fill my time and earn enough dough to live on (which is saying a lot because I love to eat at nice restaurants and I can never have just one rum and coke).

Well, before I knew it, August rolled around and then it was suddenly time to go off to college. Again. I hadn't truly realized the severity of my decision until I got in my car and started driving across the country with my sister. Up until then, it was just a fancy plan in my head where I would bounce around in Phoenix for a while and maybe sing some stuff before promptly coming back to the life I know and love in the Twin Cities. You may be asking yourself whether or not I'm as ignorant of reality as it may seem, and I am here to tell you that yes, at times, I can successfully feign ignorance until it whirls around and whaps me in the face.

Thats what it did today. If you haven't come to this conclusion, I live in Arizona now and I just finished my second day in the Masters of Musical Theater program at Arizona State University. In about 21 months, I will be a master of musical theater. Whatever that may be….Anyway. If you have ever watched Sven Sundgaard on KARE11, or any other weather broadcast for that matter, you may have the common sense knowledge that Arizona is a desert. And deserts are mostly hot. So hot, in fact, that for the past week, the average high temperature has been 107 degrees. I know that people say "Oh, its a dry heat in Arizona, so it doesn't feel that bad" but I'm here to tell you that when you are sitting completely still but are still soaked with your own sweat, it doesn't feel like a pleasant dry heat.

Back to my point. There was a storm last night with wind and lightning and the whole bit, and this storm dropped the temperature to a chilly (note the sarcasm in my voice) 80 degrees. I was so delighted with my situation that I ventured out from my newly organized and cleaned studio apartment to the convenience store around the corner to purchase a Diet Coke. Perfect, right? I was so enamored with the low temperature that I decided that today (Friday) would be a lovely day to walk to campus for my classes and then walk home, thus being able to fully appreciate my new surroundings. So here I was, looking spiffy in a navy (never again) t-shirt, some cute white shorts and some canvas slip-ons. I was ready. My first event of the day was a hearing for the choral faculty at ASU. They wanted to hear me sing some shtuff and practice my solfege, which they now (I assume), regret. This hearing was at 9:50, so I decided I would have enough time to warm up when I got there if I started walking at about 8:20. The campus is about 2 miles from my house, and the music building is on the far side, so I would have to walk about 3 miles to get there. Totally doable. I figured if I walked at a brisk pace, it would take me about 40 minutes or so to get there. Welp, I quickly found out that it was back to the normal Arizona heat, so brisk wasn't an option unless I was in a car or wanted to pass out within minutes of departure. But that wasn't the killer. About a mile into this adventure, my feet started to really hurt. I looked down and quickly came to the conclusion that these canvas slip-ons might not have been the best choice for a 3 mile jaunt. (Keep in mind that I have to repeat this journey in order to get home.)

So about a mile and a half away from the School of Music, I stopped at a gas station to get some Band-Aids because I literally was hobbling along this main street like a baby deer who had just been born and then shot in one knee. It was awful. I put about four bandages on my right foot and five on my left. And that was BEFORE my dance class, but that's a whole different story. So I go through my day with my choral hearing, a really cool class on acting for musical theater singers that I think I'll love, and then a voice seminar for my voice teacher's studio. HOLY COW, the people here can SING. Its nice though, because at ASU, they don't crucify you for enjoying musical theater as opposed to opera, in fact, they encourage you to pursue your interests and areas of talent. Other unmentioned institutions of higher learning, take note.

Then, at about 1:30 it was time to walk home. UNTHINKABLE. I don't think I've ever felt nearer to death in my life. During the walk, I kept splashing myself in the face with my water bottle, but unfortunately I might as well have boiled the water before doing so because my trusty Nalgene could do nothing to keep out the scorching desert sun. It took me about an hour and 15 minutes to get home and the only thing I could do upon arrival was sprawl myself out on the cool tile and hope for a speedy death. Well, that didn't happen, so I made myself a turkey sandwich instead, which sufficed. I know now that I'm not allowed to spend extended periods of time ramming around outside in the desert during the summer. Common sense isn't really that common, ya know?

Tenderly (because my feet still really hurt),

Andy

Playing catch-up.....and piano.

Yeah, I know. I suck at updating this thing. For those that have the attention-span of goldfish and hamsters, here's the sparknotes version: I've spent the last couple months scraping ice off my car, searching clothing stores for the perfect skinny-tie, taste-testing various brands of corn dogs and frozen pizza so I can determine my favorites, pretending my teddy bear, Constantine, is real and having serious life conversations with him, and having a grand ole time driving back and forth across the Twin Cities yelling showtunes in my car.....which I'm pretty sure is a red flag for something, but I haven't figured it out yet...ha. Oh yeah, and I've been playing the piano. A lot. You could say I've been flirting with carpal tunnel except for the fact that I diligently do my hand and finger stretches every day. Nerdy enough for you? Don't make me mention my bunny-paws playing technique. That, my friends, is true dedication.

Anywho. I was initially planning on having about 6 weeks off from any shows after finishing Bare, Godspell and Millie and before starting Footloose. It was going to be a perfect time to relax and concentrate on enjoying the spring, teaching, coaching, playing auditions and traveling to catch up with friends. Well, spring didn't happen and neither did any of the other things. I agreed to music direct a 7 week workshop musical for a wonderful human that I really enjoy working with. Per usual, I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I've only done a handful of workshops in my day (wow that sounds like something an old person would write....excuse me as I remove my dentures) and all of them until now have placed me in the role of actor/singer. From that perspective, it is incredibly eye-opening. As an actor, working side by side with a creative team to develop a new work has got to be one of the most exhilarating types of collaboration. There isn't any cast album to listen to. There aren't YouTube videos to mimic. There is just text and music on a page. For all intensive purposes, a blank canvas. As the music director, I am given a much heavier creative hand in the outcome than I'm used to as an actor, and I'm still figuring out how to best work that influence. Luckily, we have a great cast and a wonderful production team working on it, so I'm excited to see where it lands in the next two weeks before opening. Ugh. Two weeks. I should practice or something.

In my downtime from working, I have been enjoying frequent trips to the theater to see wonderful shows, outside walks to parks and throughout downtown, a sampling of the more delicious breakfast offerings on Saturday mornings, and a feeling of being mostly flustered, most of the time. For the first time in a really long time, I'm off the market....and I couldn't be happier. Or more surprised. I wasn't looking for a boyperson. I didn't really want a boyperson. I had my friends and my work and that was enough. But here I sit, doing the "first thing I think about when I wake up and last thing I think about before I fall asleep" gig. The weirdest part, is that I always had very cynical view of the people that claimed those feelings. Now I'm basically an admin of their facebook group. And I'm okay with that.

Well, I have a loooong day ahead of me tomorrow that includes playing mass at church followed by no less than 8ish hours of callbacks for Footloose. Exhilarating but exhausting. I feel like I'm missing so many important pieces right now, but I need to hit the sack if I'm going to be able to read music tomorrow, so I'm signing off.

In honor of all those graduating right about now (and because it's a current theme in my life), here's a quote:

"It feels like some kind of ride but it's turning out to be life going absolutely perfectly."

-Brian Andreas, Story People (buy his stuff. its good.)

Best,

A

The good, the bad and the ugly.

Theater is a beautiful thing. It can help people. It can teach people. It can change people; for good and for bad. I do theater because I believe in it. I believe in its transformative qualities. I believe in the process. I believe in the importance of collaborative creation. I don't do it because its glamorous or because it will make me rich, because it isn't and it won't. I love working with other creative beings. In the past year, I have met some of the most brilliant, passionate, COMpassionate, talented and kind people I've ever come across. True artists, and at the same time, truly lovely humans. They have helped me find my footing in a competitive world and have improved my quality of life just by being themselves. I am grateful. I don't tell them enough. Today, I will start. Unfortunately, this realization comes from experiencing the opposite extreme.

Today, I saw the opposite of what makes theater beautiful. Today, was the first day EVER that I hated my job. Today, I saw someone who has done much good in their life turn and let everything ugly about this art form take hold in a tyrannical fit. It was as offensive as it was fascinating. I am a notoriously high-strung person. But I am consistently ONLY high strung. I don't flip out. I don't get to that point. Ever. Today brought me pretty close. My professional integrity was brought into question along with my education, my commitment to my work and my competency. What gets me is that I have bent over backwards for this specific project. I have rearranged my life to fit this in. In the end, I was left speechless and confused and wondering what to do.

So I went to people much wiser than I, and received some of the best insight I've ever gotten: The ego is a powerful thing in the theater. It can help create electrifying moments in performance. It can promote a tireless work ethic. It can strike both admiration and fear in the hearts of those that encounter it. But there is also a very dark side to the ego. It can create doubt and fear and anger in people - even people that originally meant to do good. The same elements that create excellence are the ones that spawn arrogance and destroy creativity.

I can't attest to the intentions of this individual. But I can say that I've learned from this experience. I have seen exactly what I don't want to be, both personally and professionally. I have seen the ugliest of what theater creates. I thought my day was completely ruined.

And then I went to my performance of Bare. And all things beautiful were re-validated. I was surrounded by supportive, creative, and caring people. People that have worked together to achieve a common goal. This is what good theater is about. And this is what I will continue to strive for. No matter the obstacles. I will strive to do good.

These are the things I've learned today. I've always prided myself in my desire to learn something new everyday, and today, it became painfully clear that some lessons are harder to take than others. Sometimes, a job has to be just a job. And sometimes you just have to sit and play the piano for the paycheck. Awful, and disgusting, but its a part of life. Let the people you care about know that you care about them. Have integrity. Stand up for what you believe in; even if it is difficult and scary. And at the end of the day, remember that tomorrow is brand new.

Off to bed. Never, ever beige.

Hand-hugs and three squeezes.

A