On top of the amazing night spent watching the first livestream of TCGS on Cable, the first review for “Singin’ in the Rain” came out. I don’t usually worry about reviews. I like them to be honest, and they don’t have to pet my ego or anything like that. But I was hoping our TWO AND A HALF MONTHS of intense, sweaty, body-killing work would pay off in some way. 

Let me brag just a little: “ [Al]though Mercier cannot literally climb the walls at Thailan Hall, he does a credible job of jumping through a wall flat and reproducing many of the other much-beloved bits from the routine, including the battle with the doll. Mercier sings beautifully and has developed into quite the dancer and performer over the last few years. He did succeed in making the audience laugh repeatedly during his antics.”

“Some of the best dancing in the show features the two of them [Me and the guy playing Don] together, especially in the “Moses Supposes” number..”

Yaaaaay. I love doing what I do and I’m overwhelmed by the kind words thus far. You guys, I sweat through my layers of costume every night on stage I am giving it so much. I’m glad the show is at least kinda okay. 

Capitalism is not just the selfish decisions of millions of people. It is those decisions sifted first through the all-important filter of regulation. It is, as late 20th-century social theorists understood, a mode of regulation, not just of production.
—  Paul Mason at Alternet (The Guardian). How to Turn a Hipster into a Capitalist Tyrant in One Evening
A new play, World Factory, asks the audience to run a clothing factory in China – and even the creators have been surprised at how people have behaved.

I’m newly-obsessed with the Bowery Boys and their NYC history podcast. This is an especially good episode, about Mae West causing all sorts of Broadway scandals with her racy shows.

To Stage Manage

a booth poem is always written

while ones ear is uncomfortably bitten

by a headset with distant voices contained 

an eye to the stage and attention detained

by costume and prop and the actor mixed in 

we wait for the end before we begin

hoping our stopwatch is broken, that we’re further along

but we wait and call light cues where they belong 

untill that final darkness descends on the stage

the actors bow and we turn the last page

our job is done, complete, no more

we finally head to that stage door

we leave for the day and say goodnight 

to our dear dusty theater with twinkling ghost light

- written by Annie Halliday