Berlin: Poor -- But Sexy!

MPB said Berlin felt like New York City in the 90s -- and he was right.  With that in mind, I'm not so sure if I miss that city or what this place used to be.   Maybe its a bit of both.

As Gotham puts the squeeze on me and I defiantly make my art by any means necessary, I keep practicing German and I keep my options open.  Lots of things are pulling me across the pond. Like gigs.  And graduate school.  And fun. Let's see what develops.

WOW -- A German Fairy Tale Map?!?

I'll be in Berlin next month for a spell on an impromptu working vacation that will find me slowing things down to a crawl so I can actually enjoy much of what has only been a blur when I'm  on tour. Although Austria has better food, Germany seems to be having a culinary renaissance that has foodies, world class chefs.

Aside from the Black Forest and my love of Grimm fairy tales, I never longed to spend time in Germany when I was a child.  It seemed so farfetched, that a land of beer, sausages and schnitzel, with lederhosen and lots of Midwestern looking blondes, would have anything I'd want.  In my mind's eye, any city would look like a Fritz Lang movie -- morose, shadowy, heavy. Toss in their Nazi past, the Cold War and Checkpoint Charlie and it all added up to one rather harsh nein!  Europe meant following the footsteps of my ex-pat African-American artist forefathers and mothers, and that meant Paris or perhaps London.  Italy and Spain were much more inviting, more fun. Germany, with its ugly past, wasn't even on the map.

I couldn't have been more right -- or more wrong.

Anthony Bourdain in Berlin Part1 from Torsten Richter on Myspace.

It's much too simplistic and dismissive -- and convenient! -- to point to the Nazi atrocities and say that Germany is a horrible place.  The truth is, every country in the world has a repulsive past -- especially the European countries that some tend to idolize.  Beautiful, idyllic Spain has Cortes -- otherwise known as Cortez the Killer -- the conquistador who brought down the Aztec Empire and initiated the colonization of the Americas.  He didn't just rape, murder and pillage millions, either: it's estimated that during his siege, smallpox wiped out at least 25% of the population -- more than 3 million people.  We have plenty to ignore -- 400 years of slavery, tens of millions of Africans lost during the Middle Passage, Native American genocide.  At least Germany acknowledges its past -- and atones for it.

Africans have apologized for slavery -- so why won't America?

When I mention Berlin these days, I usually find myself in conversation with performers, musicians, writers and thinkers that have found their way to that budding metropolis after years of having worked in New York City to no avail and much success.  Here are a few of the reasons why I'm thinking of exploring the possibility of living there.

1. Germany has become a European powerhouse, economically. They have a 5% unemployment rate -- and that means with more people working, more people are spending. In contrast, Greece and Spain have a 25% unemployment rate overall -- and in Spain, nearly half of those under 30 (the lost generation) are out of work.
2. You can go to graduate school in Germany for free. And believe it or not, most of the classes are in English.
3. It's cheap, fun and full of artists from all over the world.  New York City, in comparison, is extremely expensive, full of dilletantes and not much fun when pretty much all you do is work to pay the rent.

 I've been studying the language, reading about its history and making an extensive itinerary. Let's see what happens.

Isn't this a fun map? I won't follow it this time around but I will keep it in mind as I roam. 

Why is everyone (talking about) leaving New York City?

(This sounds an awful lot like Lou Reed, doesn't it.)

The other day, someone said offhandedly that New York City was like a 50 year old woman who hasn't realized she isn't 20 anymore. That cut me to the quick -- in part because it meant that I was culpable in some small way by having taken up with such a delusional middle aged broad. I want to believe that there are probably a dizzying array of things that I haven't realized either but the unfortunate truth is, I do realize those things and I'm here, anyway.  I'm not sure what here is -- a modern day purgatory, a self-imposed exile, a bad habit that's eaten up the best years of my life. Or maybe it's just flat-out stupidity.  It's probably all of those things and more.

Every other day, some artist I know goes off on some rant about the death of this city that sparks something in me.  How they have to work a full time job or work freelance, and there's no time or energy left to create anything because the best of you just got squeezed out to pay rent and student loans. How working freelance means that you're at the mercy of a backwards situation -- that is, you're taking the work no one else wants or is able to do. You are grossly underpaid because there's always a recent college graduate who would be happy to do it for less than nothing or better yet, for nothing at all, just so they can get enough experience to climb over you and get ahead, where ever that is. How the best of what you've got has gone into everyone else's creative situation and years into this bone-crushing, soul destroying grist mill of a town, you've got nothing to show for it.

Librettists. Dancers. Musicians. Filmmakers. Graphic artists.  Clothing designers. Stylists. Visual artists of every ilk imaginable. It's like an epidemic of some sort, when everyone gets the flu one by one. You're on the train, someone coughs and the next thing you know, you're in bed for two days. We're all feeling it. We're all experiencing it. We're all aware of it. And no one is doing anything about it. Everytime I turn around, I'm running into someone that let's it blurt.  They're moving to Austin, Texas or they're running off to Berlin or God knows where. And God knows there's always graduate school.  Or a national tour. But those things only prolong the agony.  Eventually, you return and you catch this sickness, just like everyone else.

I ran into a friend on the street -- well-educated, somewhat well-known and struggling like the rest of us -- who went off on a tangent out of nowhere about how impossible it is to find space in the city to sculpt large scale work.  What's obvious by now is that this city is a place for those who are already on top, not the rest of us who have yet to establish ourselves.  Ah, but it wasn't always so.  There used to be room at the table for all of us. Now we sit here, with our bowls extended and our wide open hungry eyes peering into that dark urban abyss, wanting more and not getting it. It's only a matter of time until we go away. Right?

There are others who seem to recognize this -- everyone from twentysomethings who've figured it out already (dig this line from that article: "Why would I want to make it there when I can make it everywhere else?") to David Byrne and Patti Smith and a lot of other people, too.  Everyone isn't just talking about leaving New York City. They're actually leaving. Early and mid-level artists are experiencing a collective grand mal seizure of epic proportions.  All these part time jobs just aren't adding up like they used to do.

This quote from an article in Crains that was published in 2010 pretty much sums it up: Industry experts worry that New York will become a place where art is presented but not made, turning the city into an institutionalized sort of Disney Land. One arts executive says it could become “a Washington, D.C.,” a sterile, planned city with a number of cultural institutions but few artists—certainly not a place known as a birthplace for new cultural ideas and trends.

David Byrne is right.  Take a long walk through any Manhattan neighborhood and you'll see we're well on our way to urban sterilization. The rest of us will eventually see ourselves out.

prayer of the day

30 days of birthday - day 14: make art

Source: thefreshexchangeblog.com via Megan on Pinterest

i sometimes envy people who choose to do what they do, whatever it is.  i didn't choose to be an artist. i was always like this.

i'm growing a lot of ideas right now. they're coming at me explosively, like shrapnel.  sometimes a long walk will smooth things out but for the most part they unfurl inside me as i think on them. i should be a hermit for the next few weeks, just so i can write it all out -- but no such luck.  the sun is out, finally, and the beach is calling me like a long lost friend. boxing conditioning class is mandatory. there are too many places to hang out all over the place, especially in my own neighborhood. 

the art in me is everything that i am, poured into whatever it is that i'm doing at the moment. what i'm doing never feels like work. it is spontaneous, effortless and freeing. i follow my strongest curiousity and let it take me everywhere. i take copious notes. i daydream. i collaborate. and all of a sudden, everything takes shape as if it were there all along. and then i go and make something else.

you know what's work? practicing is work.  it won't be work when i get good at it but for the moment, i feel like sisyphus whenever i play the piano. or the guitar. *sigh* it's not a good feeling.

 no one explained this process to me. i refined it on these mean streets, by trial and error, by hell and high water, and by fire.  i began to walk down this road when i realized that because so much art in new york city (and the rest of the world) didn't include me, i would have to make my own. and then all of that grew into something else.

the idea of going out into the world to "discover" any of what i'm creating sounds exhausting.  it has always been much easier to know myself well enough to delve into my inner life for inspiration. i am grateful to God that i loved myself enough to value what i found and hold it sacred long enough to develop it and grow it into whatever it's supposed to be.

i wonder what's coming out of me next.

kurt vonnegut was right. (sort of.)

Source: twitter.com via Joani on Pinterest

i'm feeling especially grateful for my creative life -- all of it. i have no idea why this feeling of gratitude has covered me like a strange dark shroud. the epiphany that unfurled itself inside me the other day probably has everything to do with it. for some strange reason, that simple thought and all of what it really meant rattled me all the way to my bones. i'd certainly had that thought before but this time, it carried a weight to it that made it so profound, so overwhelming. all of a sudden, everything seemed divinely ordered. all of a sudden, in one bright moment, everything made perfect sense.

i realized that i didn't choose to be an artist. my early years were a series of happy accidents and strange coincidences and "lucky" moments that made me aware of a knowing feeling that grew inside me, a feeling that constantly reassured me that i am who i am -- an artist -- and that's all that i am, no matter what. my only real choice meant coming to terms with this information and deciding what to do with my life.

my most productive and satisfying moments came when i got out of the way and let God take over and give me whatever ideas i was meant to have. that's the way its always worked for me. i get out of the way and have a kind of blackout while inspiration takes over and works through me to make something wonderful. very stanislavski. actually, it was through method acting in performing arts high school that i learned how to get out of the way. more on that later.

when i first came to new york city, a beautiful dancer -- one of those stunning ailey acolytes, i think -- told me that it was a sin to have a God-given talent and do nothing with it. she said it in passing. it was almost an afterthought. i never forgot those words. in my darker more mundane moments, when i was working and working and working and (seemingly) not getting anywhere with what i was doing, those words would float back to me and drift just above my head, like a smoke ring. and i would keep going and then a breakthrough would sail into my life with so much ease, it would leave me breathless.

now i know that although mr. vonnegut was wrong -- you can make a living in the arts -- he was also so very right: every human being has a grand capacity for creativity and art. it can augment all of our lives and make them better, and make life much more bearable. so many apply their bright ideas to the most mundane parts of their world and illuminate them with ingenuity and verve, leaving light and love in their wake.

i'm not talking about haberdashers who use their albums and music videos and their ability to "beef" and start static to shill their clothing lines, alcoholic beverages and energy drinks. i'm not talking about fashion victims or fame junkies. i'm not talking about corporate tools or media whores.

i'm talking about creativity in its purest most elegant and accessible form -- something that we all have within our grasp as human beings. something that is there to give you joy within the confines of your everyday world. something that you can take further than that, if you feel so inclined. something that connects you to the divine in such a deliberate way, it's almost stultifying.

here's to my creative life -- and yours.

Press Release for The Field's EAR Showcase

here i sit, running lines and slowly working my way through blocking in my harlem apartment before i head to chelsea in a few hours to rehearse with ken roberson for next week's showcase. i can't believe this residency is almost over. it feels good, shockingly achingly good, to have something meaningful and substantial to show for my time and effort. after this, onto the next -- but what a lovely moment i've had, tromping all the way to the west side through the freezing cold and the filthy snow to a warm emotionally/creatively safe place to explore my freshest ideas and make art.

the press release is below. one performance only. and yes it will get videotaped.

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The Field Emerging Artist in Residency Showcase

Monday March 21st, 7:30pm

The Kitchen, 512 West 19th Street NY, NY

Tickets: $15, advance and at the door

Information and Tickets: www.thefield.org

The Field Emerging Artist Residency showcase proudly presents the performance work of Queen Esther, Maija Garcia/Organic Magnetics, Sara Zimmerman, Josselyn Levinson Dances, Yanghee Lee, Marie Christine Katz and Becky Radway Dance Projects at The Kitchen, Monday March 21st at 7:30pm. These seven unique artists present and array of new work drawing from diverse artistic and cultural backgrounds. The products of an extensive community driven feedback process, these in depth and carefully crafted performance works ranging from contemporary dance, physical theater and performance art promise a thought provoking and compelling evening of new work.

Queen Esther presents a segment from her one person show currently in development, “The Big Payback” – a comedic socio-political romp about reparations, directed by Ken Roberson with music by Jon Diaz. Through sound and vision, storytelling, song and dance, “The Big Payback” takes the viewer through the history of Africans in America as 7 characters – a Japanese-American grandma, a socially downward Harlemite, a jaded Alabama housewife, a Native American tribal leader, a Boston dock worker, an overachieving ATL-ien and a Serbian “dancer” in Brighton Beach – reflect on their disparate yet somehow intertwined experiences and how the idea of reparations has touched each of their lives intimately. Collectively, they speak to the notion of what is owed and to whom and why.

Josselyn Levinson Dances presents an excerpt from her dance theater work “Itemized”. Blurring the line between installation, theater and contemporary dance, “Itemized” explores the affects of materialistic accumulation in our society. Set against a backdrop littered with receipts and a sound score of live text and pop music, “Itemized” asks, how much do we need in order to feel whole?

Sara Zimmerman presents Big Exit, a physical theater performance created in collaboration with Eliza Ladd. The piece is a theatrical love letter to all the human beings who feel stuck in dead end jobs and dream of flight. Big Exit celebrates the strange and beautiful ways imagination and fantasy can lead to escape!

“The three seconds” presented by Yanghee Lee / The Limbo Project, is derived from the vocative effects of displacing the human bodies in one space to another, including the potential effects of their exterior or interior movements. This multi-faceted happening utilizes the elements of sounds from the human bodies, and non-narrative physical movements act as an installation in different formats which are part of the 'accumulation' in time and space. These hybrid associations are encountered for their aesthetic properties, moment to moment, as conceptual signifiers carrying a light of connotations.

Marie Christine Katz’s new work, "Unravel”, invites you to enter into a universe where your imagination weaves together the threads of a different reality.

Becky Radway Dance Projects presents an excerpt of “Palisade”, a new work that encloses the performers in a fully palpable environment by reining them in with audience on opposing sides and a movable fence structure. Delving into the intimate encounters created by this enclosure, the work is filled with tactile investigation, assisted movement, and animalistic exploration.

Majia Garcia’s Organic Magnetics, comprised of artists from Cuba, Trinidad, Mexico, Germany, Nigeria, Japan, Canada and the US, presents “Co-Incidence”. A study of overlapping patterns; an experience of time as a cycle that connects us all by the migration stories of our ancestors. Identifying hidden layers that compose and expose the diverse and complex culture of NYC, “Co-Incidence” asks who we are, where we come from, and how we all ended up here in this melting pot- by force or choice; by boat, train or plane? And what do we do with the stories? Stir it up!

About The Field

Founded by artists for artists, The Field is dedicated to providing strategic services to thousands of performing artists and companies in New York City and beyond. From fostering creative exploration to stewarding innovative fundraising strategies, we are delighted to help artists reach their fullest potential. Now in our 25th year, more than 1,900 performing artists come to The Field each year to build their businesses. Each year 2,000+ new art works are developed under our stewardship, and our services are replicated in 11 cities across the U.S. and Europe. In tandem with this significant growth, we remain true to our grassroots origin and artist- centered mission to: strategically serve the myriad artistic and administrative needs of independent performing artists and companies who work in the fields of dance, theater, music, text, and performance art. Field services include career-building workshops (grant writing, touring, internet strategies, etc.), fiscal sponsorship, creative residencies in New York City and out of town, and Membership benefits. See our different program offerings at www.thefield.org.

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The 2011 Emerging Artists Winter Residency Performances at The Kitchen, 3/21

This is a showcase for an idea I've been carrying around in the pit of me for way too long -- a one person show about reparations called The Big Payback. Actually, I was actively developing it off and on awhile back but other things rushed in as is often the case in New York City and the project got derailed. The winter residency with The Field was an ideal way to grow this concept all over again.

I shall always be forever grateful for those many rehearsal hours that eagerly awaited me, deep in the heart of West Chelsea. I trudged through the filthy snow in the dark, pushed and shoved along by the wind and sometimes the black ice. Armed with a laptop, a pair of indestructible snowpants and a vivid imagination, I made my way to the safety of a warm incubatory space. Unbelievable, how much of this piece I fleshed out in that room.

I should spend every winter hibernating creatively. It would be worth it, if I could always have results like this.

I always meant to have a live music component but this has evolved to include multimedia, too -- images, video, some interviews maybe -- which really excites me for some strange reason. I really want to be inclusive on this subject and not just go on about 40 acres and a mule because clearly, reparations is a global issue.

Now that I have a wonderful director in Mr. Ken Roberson to steer this project, a rough draft -- and with this performance, a videotaped segment -- this train has finally left the station.

For tickets and more information, please click here.

The Field Art Grows Here Serving Performing Artists Since 1986

Emerging Artist Residency Showcase Presented by The Field Monday, March 21st 7:30pm at The Kitchen 512 West 19th Street between 10th and 11th Avenues TICKETS: $15 In Advance with Visa or Mastercard or Cash at the door Join us for an evening of works-in-progress as the Winter 2011 Emerging Artist Residents harvest their creative crop... Artists include: Queen Esther Maija Garcia Sara Zimmerman Josselyn Levinson Yanghee Lee Marie Christine Katz Becky Radway Dance Projects Workshops facilitated by Susan Oetgen

a break in the ice

yeah, so...

once i got the winter 2011 emerging artist residency through the field in december, i thought that would be more than enough until the end of the season. there's a lot of work involved. we have weekly meetings, i have weekly rehearsals, and there are consultations and talks to consider, along with a final performance at the kitchen on march 21. january found me trudging through chelsea's west side in the snow and freezing cold to the warmth of an open studio space and fresh ideas, to flesh out whatever was inside me. i spent my days buried in rewrites and running lines aloud in our harlem apt to bounce them around and make them come alive somehow, leaving the house for twice daily boxing sessions, church and occasionally groceries. my self-imposed lockdown was complete.

nevermind the fact that i have to finish recording and mixing my black country rock album, that i've got the "billy meets billie" project in february at the university of the streets to rehearse for or the salon's anniversary bash at the edison ballroom in early march. i'll get to those tidbits later.

the thing is, i had every intention to stay in lockdown until my father's birthday in march. but inspiration is a funny thing. it can't be partitioned off or legistated or controlled. once something triggers it, it simply flows. in the best of circumstances -- that is, if i get out of the way and don't undo things -- it keeps flowing. once the ideas started to run over me from one project, they started to spill onto everything else.

i'm not afraid to fall through the ice and drown. thanks to my time in nyc as an outsider, i know how to swim very well. there may be an undertow, but that's to be expected when the pull is this strong.

if you've been reading this blog, you already know this -- so for the uninitiated and/or uninformed, here's something you should know about me as an artist.

i'm not a replicator. i'm an originator. that means most of the work i do comes from what i create. everyone that calls themselves an artist doesn't do these things. as a matter of fact, most of the creative folk i know patiently wait by the phone for it to ring so they can make a living. for most of them, developing and executing their own ideas is unthinkable -- for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that they don't have any ideas in the first place. needless to say, fear of so many things -- one's own potential, for example -- can sometimes play a stronger part than anyone would care to imagine. but i digress.

i'll tell you what i'm working on later. for now, all i can say is that i'm working. hard.

i don't want to be famous

let's get one thing straight.

i don't want everyone to know who i am. or where i live. or who i goof off with.

i don't want to be harassed in public places, or followed through the streets like a common thief, or hounded and singled out whenever i'm recognized because of some acting gig i had.

i don't want people taking pictures of me at random. like when i'm eating salad with my fingers. or when it's laundry day and i'm wearing something especially filthy. or when me and my friends are on the beach, naked. or whatever.

i don't want a detail of security guards.
i don't want a stalker.
i don't want to be a prisoner in my own home.
i don't want people staring at me all the time.

i don't want to drive a big fine fancy car. i don't want a fleet of cars in my backyard. good grief. i don't even know how to drive. (yet.)

i don't want to be on cribs.
i don't want my personal private life on display.
i don't want to be easily found.

i don't want to be a celebrity, a glitterati, a media whore, an A lister, a B lister or any variation therein.

i don't care if i'm ever bankable as an actor or not.

i don't want handlers.
i don't want to give anyone my autograph.
i don't want to take pictures with strangers.

i don't want the minutae of my personal private goings-on -- however real or imaginary -- to be the fodder that sells magazines or tabloids or drives up internet hits or whatever.

i don't want anybody telling me what i can or can't do creatively -- or who i can or can't work with, for whatever reason. or where i can or can't go. or who i should or shouldn't hang out with.
i don't want anyone telling me what to do, period.

i don't want to be famous.

i am the antithesis of all that noise. i am an artist.

i am incapable of treating my art like a hobby because i am following my God-given creative impetus where ever it leads me.

to quote harlan howard - He wrote the songs -- i held the pen.

more later.

the dark knight of artistic anything

the other day, my friend and i spent a better part of the afternoon wandering through the salvador dali exhibit at MoMA. this time around, the focus is on dali's paintings and film. i had no idea he was so infatuated with cinema. the visuals are fairly overwhelming, at first. it's high fun to let all of it overwhelm me, then find a piece that lets me get my bearings so i can ease my way through the rest of it, guided only by what intrigues me. everything is in chronological order, of course. what never fails to shock is how derivative his early work is. but i suppose that can be said about any artist.

when we left, i was feeling especially giddy. dali is a surrealist to the nth degree, so theatrical at times and very much a showman -- but somewhere in there, he was all business. how interesting to see how he dealt with hollywierd in its golden age. i'm fairly certain that his business manager/promoter/wife gala (who changed her name from elena, and who came from a family of russian intellectuals and who was 10 years his senior) was the one who was at the helm, constantly scheming on how to best manipulate the system to their benefit. God knows it's a full time job for somebody.

in his day, he was quite a brand. evidently, he still is.

afterwards, we went to see the dark knight. i'm not exactly certain how but the dali exhibit put me in the mood for this one. somewhere in there, in the capes and the drama and the explosions and the darkness, there was surrealism and a bit of camp and spectacle that took the edge off of watching The Dead Guy's Last Performance. i think that it was very important that mr. ledger had already established himself as a serious actor before he became a movie star. usually in hollywood, the movie star strives to prove that they can really act. in a day and age when most people who call themselves actors are waiting on tables or doing something else that's just as soul-destroying, it's a moment of triumph for any artist to see someone scale the heights and win.

and yes, i didn't love the movie but yes i did love his performance and yes, i would pay to see it again.

afterwards as we walked to the 70th street pier, i had mixed feelings. the whole world seems to be grieving the loss of such a young and talented actor, but if you stop and look around you, there are young and talented actors everywhere and once upon a time, mr. ledger was one of them. he was out of work, taking bit parts on tv shows and wondering what his next move would be, just like everybody else. once upon a time, halle berry was a hostess in a restaurant in this city. once upon a time, angelina jolie took classes at NYU after she did the movie Gia. somebody had to sit in the chair next to hers and pass her the class handouts and everything, like anybody else. once upon a time, richard gere was doing off-off broadway and taking bit parts in movies. that was him playing some greek guy in a kojak episode from 1976.

there's talented everything everywhere -- from the musician you just passed in the street, to that waitress you undertipped to the filmmaker you sat next to on the D train to the painter that sells his stuff on the curb in soho.

i'm not grieving for heath ledger, for all the work he could have done and didn't, because at least we got a glimpse of his talent. at least he did something. i'm grieving for the undiscovered ones -- the artists of every genre, from out of the remote past and into present day goings on in and out of the media's watchful buzzworthy eye. artists whose work didn't rank, not because it wasn't original or great or borne of genius but because it wasn't popular.

there were plenty of salvador dali's contemporaries who were more talented than he was, and who were doing much more interesting things. there is an actor who is giving the performance of a lifetime right now, off-off broadway -- far away from anyone's buzz bin. there are writers who are self-publishing, musicians who are self-releasing, visual artists who are laboring on and on in the bowels of academia. and they're all effing amazing. what about them?

there are so many unsung heroes and heroines in the world.

i know it takes more than talent to "make it," but some variables that have nothing to do with talent are way more overwhelming than others. like blind, stinking luck. but really, isn't that just strategic hard work? and what is making it, anyway? one of the hardest lessons that new york city has ever taught me is that everyone doesn't want what i want. some people are perfectly happy in a slayer cover band, playing bars and strip malls all over jersey and heidelberg. whatever blows your hair back.

what i'm talking about is something more -- a worldwide culture that glorifies what's popular instead of what's brilliant, or sometimes even good.

my friend carol fineman loves to say, "talent will out." it's one of her favorite phrases. i used to believe it but more and more nowadays, it's something that i can only hope is true.