kmichels

Thursday July 07, 2016Change, History, Live and Learn, Right vs WrongLeave a comment

I feel sick. In my gut, in my heart and in my soul. I have spent considerable amounts of time studying the backward thinking that caused the Civil War. The oppression that the suffragists fought against, and the stark cruelty and abject depravity of the Civil Rights movement. I wish I could stand back and look at our country today and marvel at how far we have come. But I can’t, because we haven’t gone anywhere. The racism is still there, the intolerance and oppression are still there, and it has got to stop. The indomitable Maya Angelou once said:

America, specifically white America, you know better, so start doing better. Black men are not inherently dangerous, or the boogey man lurking in the shadows that our ancestors would have us believe. Homosexuals are not backwards or trying to denigrate and ruin your so called family values. Immigrants are not destroying our nation by bringing in their foreign tongues and diverse cultures. So get over yourselves. White is not right, or better. English is not our official national language and Christianity is not our official national religion – because we don’t have either a national language or religion. Why? This map explains the language matter better than I can, and as for religion, the first amendment of our Constitution states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.”

Our founding fathers did the best they knew how to create a canvas of tolerance. Sadly we have failed the test of tolerance from day one and we continue to do so today. This country has the potential of being a great melting pot of people and culture and religion, but we will never achieve that if we continue to allow those in power – ie white Christian men – to skim anything different than themselves out of the pot. We will never achieve that if we continue to allow the thinking to pervade that anything different than white and Christian is bad.

I have great respect for our brothers and sisters in blue who do a largely thankless and hard job. I believe that there are many who do outstanding jobs. However, with that respect comes a higher level of accountability, and it is time to lay that accountability on the table. Blatant racism and prejudice should have no home in a blue uniform and it is time to clean house. It is time that we as a people demand to know what the accountability process is for our local law enforcement. It is time that we investigate what kind of oversight is in place. Is it union-based or strictly in-house? If so, then it is time that we demand there be civilian oversight as well. Police are going to stand up and protect their own, as they should for the most part, but an outside check is severely lacking to provide the needed balance.

Write to your mayor, your governor, your city-councils and let them know that we the people, who elected them, want transparency in our police forces. Write to your representatives and tell them the same. Follow-up. If you sent an email, send a physical letter. If you’ve done both and nothing has happened, make a phone call. If you’ve done all three and nothing has happened, then vote them out in November. There are more than 400 congressional seats up for re-election and innumerable local government seats. Let it be known that this will be a topic not just for discussion, but for action and only those willing to act will get the votes. The time for hashtags is over. Now is the time for action.

*For additional reading, I highly recommend the following articles: What You Can Do About Police Brutality, Concrete Ways to Be an Ally to Black People, White Silence, The Next Time Someone Says All Lives Matter, What White Folks and Non-Black POC Need to Understand About Systematic Racism, and I Recorded the Racist Things People Did to Me.

Thursday June 30, 2016Happiness, Live and LearnLeave a comment

I was never one that believed in the power of the universe/earth/person to heal and be centered. Yoga, meditation, chakras, The Secret, good vibes/energy, karma, chanting, etc all fell under the category of New-Age-Mumbo-Jumbo-Hippy-Dippy Crap. I realize that some of that is actually very old and not new-age, hence the ‘mumbo-jumbo’ or ‘hippy-dippy’ classifications. I thought it was ridiculous and therefore discounted all of it, and quite frankly anyone who practiced it. I didn’t believe in it, so it couldn’t possibly be beneficial. For those who don’t know me well, this is not because of a strict adherence or belief in a western religion. I didn’t believe in any of those either. I was what you would call a consummate non-believer.

As I have gotten older, my non-believer status has definitely been disturbed. Mostly due to the fact that my Western medicine doctors have prescribed for me yoga and meditation. Out of all of the drugs on the market to treat every ailment under the sun, my doctors prescribed this. (As it turns out, I have very good doctors.) I grumbled and bitched, but eventually I tried it. I spent my first yoga class, thinking, “This is stupid. I hate yoga.” But I did it. I also meditated, and for a good long while those sessions were spent with me telling my brain to, “Shut up already, I’m meditating here!” Needless to say, neither of these activities were especially useful at the beginning. I thought it was stupid and so it was stupid.

Then something curious happened. The more I did it, the less stupid it felt and the less stupid it felt, the more my anxiety went away. As my anxiety went away, the nightmares decreased, and as the nightmares decreased, I actually started to get some sleep. Let me tell you, sleep is a glorious thing! I didn’t necessarily increase the amount that I did yoga or meditated, but I stopped thinking of it as stupid. I acknowledged the benefits of each practice. Then I started to practice gratitude, I sent my wants and desires out into the universe and learned about the chakras. All of mine were blocked, go figure. I even made myself a chakra balancing necklace with a representative stone for each chakra. Funny coincidence, the two stones that represent my most blocked Chakras are the two stones I have always been drawn to – the majority of my jewelry contains either peridots or garnets. I’m thinking coincidence isn’t the right word there.

In other words, I’ve gone from a non-believer to a meditating-chakra-balancing-good-vibe-heal-thyself-yogi who is more curious as to what you’re grateful for than what you do for a living. I’m still not entirely sure how this complete reversal took place, it kind of snuck up on me, but I’m much happier and healthier now that it has. Hit me up if you want a chakra balancing necklace/charm. I have no idea if it actually works, but it makes me feel better. So there ya go. Okay, I lied. It’s not a complete reversal. I still dislike yoga. Namaste.

Okay, I like this part.

Thursday June 23, 2016Live and LearnLeave a comment

I was one of those obnoxious people growing up that was just naturally good at school. As long as I went to class and took notes, I could pass the tests with flying colors after very little studying. Essays were a cake-walk. I’ve always had a predilection for writing. Even in college, I wrote my papers the night before they were due and never got lower than an A. I’m organized, pay attention and was smart enough to make school a breeze. Chemistry was the closest I came to a class making me struggle, yet I still had an A when I dropped at semester because it conflicted with the art class that I wanted to take. I was that person. Feel free to hate.

The weird thing is that now that I’m older, I wish I hadn’t been that person. I wish I had been forced to learn early on that you have to work for your success. Instead, I was taught that if you show up, put forth a modicum of effort you will succeed. Yes, I had enough to deal with as a kid without throwing in struggling at school, but still. Because of this education, I have been slapped in the face as an adult more times than I can count, because I expected something to be a cake walk and it wasn’t. The first couple of times it happened, I was flabbergasted. You could have knocked me over with a feather. “What do you mean I didn’t get what I wanted? I showed up and worked toward it a little. That’s all it takes!”

Nope. I have now learned that life is not that simple, and things rarely work exactly as you planned them to. Especially not on the first try! But I’ve also realized that there is more to learn in failing then there is in succeeding. That sounds insanely cliché, but I guess it’s cliché for a reason: it’s true. I have learned more about myself, my friends and what I truly want from life through my failures then through all of the soul-searching I have ever done. I think the biggest one in there, is what I’ve learned that I truly want from life. Think about it, you fail at something and you find yourself sitting there at the bottom examining what you had been striving for. All of sudden, the extraneous bits start to slough off. “Well, that bit isn’t all that important, and that bit would be nice, but isn’t essential. Now if I could only get this.”

So you go after whatever the “this” is, and you leave the bits you pared off behind. It’s simpler now, more focused. You work toward it and you fail again. Sitting at the bottom, you once more evaluate. You once more whittle down, once more become more focused. You become clearer. Then you try again, fail again, re-evaluate again. Rinse and repeat until all that is left is the core of your desire. The wrappings and glitter and bows are gone, and all you are left with is what you truly want and it resonates deep in your soul. It resonates so profoundly that you realize you’ve been going about it all wrong, and shift gears, change tactics completely. Stride out once more to conquer the world. I feel like that’s where I am now. Rinse. Do not repeat. I hope.

Tuesday June 21, 2016Live and Learn, Theater, WritingLeave a comment

I have spent the past three weekends covering the Hollywood Fringe Festival for See It or Skip LA. Which involves seeing large amounts of shows, writing reviews and getting together with my other correspondents to record podcasts about what we’ve seen. After our last recording session it occurred to me that all of the shows that I have raved about, have one thing in common: they all used comedy to make a serious story more accessible.

“Night Witches” – a play about the female Russian bomber regiment in WWII who terrorized the Germans night after night despite encountering heavy losses. Was it inspiring? Definitely! Was it depressing because a majority of the main characters died? Yep! Did I leave the theater depressed? No, because amidst the dire situations of the women were interwoven comedic scenes of the Nazi soldiers. These scenes could have easily been written just as serious as the Russian scenes – which did have some elements of comedy but were for the most part dramatic – but that would have resulted in a very different play. It would have been heavy on top of heavy, leaving the audience feeling, you guessed it, heavy. Instead, this show juxtaposes dark with light and as a result is selling out as people clamber to see an historical play.

Check out our podcasts here.

On the other hand, I saw a different historically based play that left me feeling ambivalent at best and negative at worst. It was 90 minutes of downtrodden woe-is-me-nothing-is-going-right, with no break or release of the tension. Even at the end when the character gets what he had been striving for the whole time, the victory is tinged with heartache. The one victory in the entire piece was spoiled. The piece was acted well, and quite frankly staged better than “Night Witches,” however without that light to balance the dark I had to recommend that audiences skip it for something else.

For the dark to be accessible, palatable, effective it needs to be balanced with light. Then it struck me, out of all of the critiques of my novel there was one outlying comment early on that I looked at briefly before shoving it aside and disregarding it since no one else seemed to have the problem. What was that comment?

“Be cognizant of providing breaks for your reader. Your first 50 pages are intense and nonstop. It can be overwhelming.”

In other words, at the beginning of my novel about the Civil War, an already super-upbeat topic, I inundate my reader with DARK, DARK, DARK! Hmmmm. I have spent the past three weeks espousing the virtues of how comedy strengthens drama, yet when somebody gave me a similar note, I completely ignored it.

Well. Done. Me. Despite the fact that I have rewritten the beginning of my novel more times than I can count since I received that comment, I will be going back to examine it one more time. Here’s to the light, strengthening the dark.

Tuesday June 14, 2016Life, Loss, LoveLeave a comment

I am the suite safety warden for my company, which means that in the event of an emergency I am in charge. It also means that every year I have to attend the annual safety meeting. In three years, that meeting has gone from the main focus being earthquake preparedness – we are in LA after all – to workplace shooter preparedness. Everything from what should be in place at a company level to help prevent an incident all the way to what to do during an incident. There is a video – Run>Hide>Fight – the three steps to try to save your life should there be an active shooter. There’s a goddamn video. And please note, that what the video doesn’t emphasize enough, is that while you’re running out of the building away from the shooter, make sure that your hands are in the air, so the cops have no reason to mistake you for the gunman. And put your cell phone in your pocket just in case. Holding something shiny in your hand is probably not the best idea. This meeting was planned well before the Orlando shooting, but its timing was poignant nonetheless.

Last week was all about rape and abuse – Brock Turner and Profiles Theater – and it looks as if this week is going to be all about shootings, and I just can’t. I have reached the point where I can’t take another headline, video clip, Facebook rant or snide comment about hatred or violence or abuse toward a people or person simply because they are different. I cannot take another comment blaming the victim’s behavior, or second guessing the victim’s motive, or spreading advice on how not to be a victim. Not one more, ‘Well, if they weren’t living in sin . . .’ I can’t. I just can’t. The victim’s part in a crime starts when the perpetrator forces their presence on the victim. Not a second before. I don’t care what they do in their everyday lives. I don’t care who they love, how they dress, or how they comport themselves. They have no culpability in the crime itself. How do I know this? Look at the fucking definition of the word. According to Merriam Webster Dictionary:

Victim

1: a living being sacrificed to a deity or in the performance of a religious rite

2: one that is acted on and usually adversely affected by a force or agent

a (1) : one that is injured, destroyed, or sacrificed under any of various conditions

a (2) : one that is subjected to oppression, hardship, or mistreatment

b : one that is tricked or duped

One that is acted on. Their only active role is to try to stop the attack if they can. Beyond that, a victim has no action. Why do you think one of the most common feelings of victims is a feeling of helplessness? Because they had NO PART in the crime committed against them. If they had no part in the crime, they can hold no part in the blame. Until our society can truly grasp and understand that, until our society at the leadership level can stop the moral damning and undermining of certain groups of people, you can give every woman in the US a rape whistle and a can of mace and there will still be rape. You can give everyone in the US a gun to carry and there will still be shootings.

Until it is clear – across the board from political leaders to religious leaders – that all human life is sacred and worthy regardless of gender, race or sexual orientation; until it is clear that the victimizing of a group of people simply because of their differences is not condoned, this will never stop. As long as victims are blamed for the crimes acted upon them, this will never stop. As long as people of influence preach fear and hatred towards those that don’t fall in line with their own doctrines, this will never stop. Until it is known, carte blanche, that acts of hatred and dominance toward others will NOT be tolerated for even a second, this will never stop.

This will never stop. I don’t know how we will fix that sentence, and I don’t know how to live happily in a world where that sentence cannot be fixed.

Thursday May 26, 2016Life, Live and Learn, LossView all 2 comments

It was recently brought to my attention that someone whom I had considered to be my hero when I was growing up, was actually one of, if not the main contributor to the dysfunction of my childhood. Years ago I came to accept that this person fell far short of the label hero. However, in my mind they were most definitely ‘Team Kat.’ This person had my back, they were on my side and every other cliché you can think up. This person’s role in my life had been down-graded, but was most definitely still looked upon with esteem.

Then the PTSD hit, and with it came large amounts of therapy. If I’d been able to afford it, I would have seen my therapist twice a week, but as it was, it was a financial strain to see her once a week. So that had to suffice. This is not the first therapist I have seen. That list is quite long, and from experience I can say that there is nothing better than a good therapist. There is also very little, short of the abuse that sent you to the therapist in the first place, that is worse than a bad therapist. Now when I say good and bad, I mean in relation to how you work with that particular therapist. You can go to an award-winning therapist (does that even exist?), but if you don’t understand each other or you don’t jive with the way that they work, then they are bad for you. Of course, there are also therapists who are just plain bad at their job. I had one that half way through a session I started giving him advice. Yeah, I stopped seeing that guy.

At any rate, through this therapy, I began to discover that I had told myself copious amounts of lies while growing up. Lies to soften the edges of the truth, or to outright hide the truth and allow my young mind to survive intact. Those lies eventually shattered, bombarding me with the truths that I had been hiding for twenty years. Hence the PTSD. As I have sifted through the wreckage, sorting the fabricated from the real, I have discovered that the truth is where heroes go to die. All people have a dark side. They all make mistakes and they all do things unworthy of hero-status. The question becomes, how much of that are you willing to overlook? At what point do you learn too much for your hero to remain a good guy?

In my case, it turns out that the hero status was granted simply because a hero was needed. Therefore, all actions that would preclude that title were ignored and covered up. It was what I needed at the time, so I overlooked the foibles of the person in front of me and imagined the person I needed. When I no longer needed the hero, enough of the façade melted away to reveal a normal person. Almost a Superman, Clark Kent scenario. As a child I had only seen Superman, in my twenties I only saw Clark Kent. So what do I do now that the harsh light of truth has revealed this person to be Lex Luther* all along? Do I allow the truth to act as kryptonite and destroy my hero for good, or do I ignore the truth, allowing the childhood fantasy to persist? Even if only to preserve the memory of having one person on my side. A gentle lie to hide the harsh truth. I can’t decide.

*Okay, that’s unfair. I doubt there were any deliberate plots or machinations going on, but for the sake of my metaphor I’m gonna run with it.

Tuesday May 17, 2016Change, Happiness, Live and LearnLeave a comment

A friend and I got into a conversation the other day that has lingered with me. We were discussing how both of us have trouble relaxing and simply enjoying life when things are going well. Those moments when you realize that there are no crises, no fires to be put out, and all of your plates are spinning happily along. Neither of us are able to truly enjoy those moments because we are waiting for the other shoe to drop. We are waiting for a catastrophe to descend. Which is a pretty bleak outlook on life. And it’s not that either of us are pessimists, or suffer from anxiety. Far from it.

What we do have in common is that both of us had troubled childhoods where we were required to deal with situations way above our maturity level. And deal with these situations on a regular basis. Carefree is not an adjective used to describe either of our pasts. So it’s not that we are pessimists, it’s that our experience tells us that the other shoe WILL drop. Moments of peace and simplicity were often masks for something bubbling up under the surface that would blow at any moment. Therefore, neither of us trust ‘good times.’ In our experience, good times generally end badly. It’s not anxiety, it’s what life has taught us.

So the question becomes, how do you reteach yourself that good can be just that – good? Nothing more, nothing hiding underneath. In essence, how do you teach yourself to enjoy being happy? I feel silly even typing that. Who doesn’t enjoy being happy? I’ve come to realize that the answer to that question is, me. Being happy makes me uneasy. I’m sure many other people as well, after all, no human experience exists in a vacuum. So how does one go about the re-teaching process? I’m not really sure, but I came up with some ideas.

Stop actively watching for the shoe to drop. One will drop eventually, but I don’t need to expend energy anticipating and planning for it. I have plenty of tools at my disposable for dealing with it, when it happens. No prep needed.
Find things and do them simply because they are good for me and make me happy. They need hold no other benefit.
Repeat, “I am allowed to be happy and I deserve good things,” on a regular basis.

In fact, I might just write that last one on my mirror at home.

By Gemma Correll

Thursday May 12, 2016TheaterLeave a comment

As many of you know, I’m a bit of a Shakespeare fan. Okay, that’s an understatement, I’m a huge Shakespeare fan, and have had the goal for a few years now to see his entire canon performed live. After this past weekend, I was able to cross two off of my list, leaving me with one left. ONE!!!! Technically, I could say that I am done right now because there is definitely a camp that claims “Two Noble Kinsman” is not actually part of the official canon, and that’s the only one that I’m missing. However, I’ve decided to include it in my quest, so I have one left.

This weekend’s boon was thanks to the Porters of Hellsgate theater company with their productions of Henry VI Pts 1, 2, and 3 which are running in rep. Parts 1 and 2 have each been condensed so as to be performed in one long act each. If you choose to attend one of their Sunday double-headers, as I did, you will see Part 1 and 2 in the afternoon, followed by an evening show of Part 3. It is hard to find these plays produced, it is rarer still to find the entire story told at once. Thank you to the Porters for undertaking this behemoth, it was a treat to get to see the entire thing in one go. Therefore, with simplicity in mind, I will refer to Parts 1, 2, and 3 as one big production from here on out.

Those who saw the Porters production of Henry V, much (if not all, I’m not 100% sure on this) of the casting carried over into Henry VI. This provided a lovely continuance of the story. History plays have huge casts, and as Henry VI covers the origin of the War of the Roses, allegiances bounce back and forth like a ping pong ball. For those who are unfamiliar with the plays, to help you follow this review, and the plays should you go see them (which you should) follow these links to read a synopsis of:

Henry VI Pt 1

Henry VI Pt 2

Henry VI Pt 3

Welcome back! As you saw, there are a lot of people and a lot of talk about who is related, how they are related and what those relations mean. Director and set designer Thomas Bigley addresses this issue from the moment you walk into the theater. Painted on the black walls is the royal family tree, clearly depicting the lineage of both the Yorks and the Lancasters. Arrive with enough time to give this a thorough once over. It will help. The costume design also tries to help the audience distinguish what side each character is on. In some respects it succeeds, but its inconsistencies make it fall short of the mark. The biggest obstacle is that the majority of the actors play up to three speaking roles and are in the ensemble. The main speaking roles are easier to distinguish because Shakespeare helps by calling people by their names on a regular basis. Even he understood that you need a scorecard to keep track of this many people.

L to R: William Hickman, Timothy Portnoy and Sean Faye

L to R: Gray Schierholt, Timothy Portnoy and Sean Faye (notice Warwick’s red rose)

A costuming convention helps with the addition of red and white lapel roses – white for the supporters of York and red for the supporters of Lancaster. Even if you don’t know the exact name of the character, you can at least tell which side they belong to. This is especially helpful with Warwick who uses the line of allegiance like a jump rope. This convention goes further by adding accents of color to the Porters stereotypical all black base costumes – followers of York have accents of white, followers of Lancaster have accents of red and the French have accents of blue. Awesome!

L to R: Timothy Portnoy, Sean Faye (notice Warwick's new rose color), Gus Krieger

L to R: Timothy Portnoy, Sean Faye (notice Warwick’s new white rose), Gus Krieger

However, the supporting ensemble members do not have any distinction. For the most part they are in all black, a highly utilitarian choice as several cast members fill in as ‘Third Soldier from the Right’ for all three camps at one point or another. Who can see the problem with this? There were several occasions where the number of characters on stage in all black, outweighed the number of characters with a color/rose designation, making it hard to distinguish who belonged to whom. Everything fixates on which side has the most supporters at any given point, so it was a little disorienting to not be able to tell where everyone stood. Especially in moments where you do discover who belongs where and then realize that there are crucial people standing with their backs to their enemies, yet are perfectly at ease.

There were also inconsistencies in the color distinctions that were present. Rivers, a York supporter, was wearing a red shirt with his white rose. One character, I didn’t catch his name, had on a blue shirt with a red rose, yet I don’t think he was French. The most confusing however was Prince Edward, the son of the Lancastrian King Henry VI. Edward was wearing a white shirt with absolutely no color accent or roses whatsoever. Henry VI is also wearing a white shirt, but despite the obviousness of which side he belongs on, his Lancaster affiliation is denoted with bright red suspenders. Therefore, by the color convention established, Prince Edward should be considered as part of the York camp. What?

L to R: Makeda Declet and Alex Parker

These oversights are understandable given that the production did not have a dedicated costume designer. With that knowledge, Bigley should be commended for providing the roses and accent colors that were present, given that he was also designing the set, acting and directing. It is a shame, however, that they did not have a costume designer to make sure that the costuming conventions were carried through to each character. My biggest complaint with the production was that it was difficult, if not impossible at times, to keep track of who was whom and what side they were on. Especially early on when you’re still putting faces to names, or when an actor would step onto the stage as their second, third or fourth characters. I intimately know these plays and I still had trouble. The family tree and the costumes take a huge step in the right direction to help this, however, if the costuming had been consistent throughout the cast, they very well may have alleviated my biggest problem, and added some needed clarity. Now on to what did work.

Christine Sage

The casting, which had to have been daunting, is spot on. Christine Sage as Henry VI is magnificent. Bravo to the gender-blind casting that made this possible. Sage’s milquetoast portrayal of this naïve, reluctant monarch makes everything else that happens believable. She is an utterly memorable wallflower, and that takes skill. Margaret, played by Liza de Weerd, is the perfect counter balance to Henry, right down to her height and formidable stage presence. De Weerd nails not only her more aggressive scenes on the battle field, but also her tender and vulnerable dealings with Suffolk, played by Christopher Salazar.

With actors playing multiple parts, it would be easy to slip into stereotypes for a lot of the characters. I applaud both the actors and director Bigley for avoiding this. Salazar provided great depth in his portrayals of both Suffolk and later Clarence. Matt Jayson was delightfully conniving as York, yet all of his bravado melts away when he learns of the death of his son. David Ghilardi as Talbot, and Gus Krieger as Richard join the ranks of the wonderfully nuanced. The one character that I wish would have been a bit more stereotypical was Joan de Pucelle, played by Makeda Declet. I question the directorial approach of her character, as it was disappointing to see this iconic, hot-tempered character be drug off the stage sniveling and begging not to be killed. This final act largely discounted her previous bold actions making her character hit or miss.

The fight scenes were also hit or miss . . . pun intended. Of the battle scenes some were sloppy, some were decent and one in particular was scary. From where I sat, it looked like Warwick got clipped in his final fight with Edward. Across the board, all of the fights needed to lower their targets as almost all of the hits were occurring at the head level or above. The fight director in me did quite a bit of cringing. That being said, the two slaps, performed by Matt Jayson and Alex Parker, were some of the best I’ve ever seen. They were blocked well, executed well and were totally appropriate for their scenes. Well done!

Behind: Liza de Weerd
Front L to R: Alex Parker, Matt Jayson and Thomas Bigley

Director Bigley also deserves props for capitalizing on the humor in Part 2. With all of the deceit and death going on, a sojourn into the light-hearted was much appreciated. John Cade, played by Timothy Portnoy, and Dick, played by Nick Neidorf, had a fantastic, almost slap-stick relationship that sustained through to the end, despite the fact that their relationship doesn’t have a happy ending. Part 2 can easily be told without the John Cade subplot, so the decision to leave it in speaks to the overall vision of the production as a whole, and the experience of seeing the entire story played out in one go. The adaptation of Part 1 and Part 2, by artistic director Charles Pasternak, facilitates this. The adaptation is fast-paced, yet feels complete. There are no gaping holes or questions left unanswered before the action picks back up in Part 3. All in all, the Porters of Hellsgate have once again delivered a thoroughly enjoyable experience at the theater.

For more information go to – Porters of Hellsgate

The show runs through June 5, 2016 at the Whitmore-Lindley Theatre Center, located at 11006 W Magnolia Blvd, North Hollywood, CA 91601.

Tickets and detailed show dates are available at: Brown Paper Tickets

*Originally this review credited Jessica Pasternak as the costume designer. However, I was informed by the Porters of Hellsgate that there was an error in the program, and in fact this production did not have a dedicated costume designer. Changes have been made to reflect this new information.

Thursday May 05, 2016TheaterLeave a comment

It’s coming up on that time of year again – The Hollywood Fringe Festival! We’re talking more theater over the course of a month than you can shake a stick at. Trust me on this, you’ll get carpal tunnel if you try. Last year I managed to catch 30 shows, and I had several people ask me how in the world I was able to manage that while still working full time. For all of you who asked, and even for those who didn’t, here’s my process.

Step 1 – Look through the thumbnail poster and short description of every offering in the Fringe – yes I looked at every single one of them – and pull out the ones that spark a little interest. This first pass through is pretty broad. I select anything that makes me go, “Huh, cool,” any recommendations, anything with someone I know from last year that was good, anything historically based, all of the classics, and any and all Shakespeare.

A tangent on Shakespeare. I am a bit of a Shakespeare junkie. Below is what my desk looks like. But even more than reading it, I LOVE seeing his work performed. To date, I am three plays away from seeing the entire canon performed live, and if things work out as I have them planned, I will complete my canon by the end of the year. All you have to say is Shakespeare, and I’m in. However, as I am fairly well versed in all of his plays, I do get a little tired of seeing the exact same plays offered over and over again. Fringe participants I’m looking at you!

Here is my list of Shakespearean Fringe shows, not including those that are ‘based on’ his plays. In 2014, I saw “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” “Twelfth Night,” “Hamlet,” and “Romeo and Juliet.” In 2015, I saw “Taming of the Shrew” and “Romeo and Juliet,” two different productions of each. This year for the Fringe, I can see “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Taming of the Shrew,” “Hamlet,” “Twelfth Night,” and “Titus Andronicus.” Is anybody else seeing a pattern? Come on people, there are over 30 plays in the canon, branch out! How about a little “King Lear,” or “Comedy of Errors,” or even, *gasp* a history play? There is only one show listed that hasn’t appeared in the previous two years. Winner, winner, chicken dinner to Titus Andronicus! You are the outlier my friend, and I applaud you. I applaud you even more, as you’re full title is, “Titus Andronicus, Jr.” because the show is geared toward children. I love it! I might go see it twice on principle alone! Let’s try mixing it up a little for next year, shall we? Thanks.

Step 2 – Read the long description of each play, check running times and pare my picks down to my Chance-Its – ie the ones that I’m willing to actually venture out to give them a chance. You may be wondering why I check the running times at this juncture. Simple, when you’re trying to show hop and squeeze as many plays in as possible, ain’t nobody got time for a three hour “Twelfth Night.” Seriously, what are they doing in that production that has stretched that play out to be three hours? Here is that list:

Step 3 – List the show times of each ‘Chance-It’ show on a calendar and start to figure out a schedule that fits in as many as possible. This is the first draft. There were many that came after. I’m guessing that most people would look at this step it find it akin to water boarding. I, on the other hand, find it to be a huge AWESOME puzzle! Yes, I’m well aware that there is something distinctly odd about me.

Step 4 – Look at my completed schedule and say, “Holy shit! I can’t see that many shows in a month. Am I crazy?”

Step 5 – Try to pare down the shows so the schedule looks more reasonable . . . but probably only give up one or two before calling it good and setting up camp in Hollywood for the month of June. This is obviously the step that needs the most improvement . . .

At any rate, these are my ‘Chance-Its’ for the 2016 Hollywood Fringe Festival. What am I missing? What are you excited to see?

Tuesday May 03, 2016Change, Happiness, Live and LearnLeave a comment

Every so often I am reminded of how far I have come. How much more positive and mentally healthy I am. I had one of those stark reminders this weekend. My Saturday went to pot before I had even finished my first cup of coffee. Yet, by the end of the day, everything had managed to come around in my favor. Whoo! Even so, if I had had this day 7 or 8 years ago, the exact same sequence of events, it would have been a drastically different day.

I don’t know about you, but I prefer present day Kat’s view on things.