ANYONE FOR PHEASANTS?

A funny thing about Wild Geese: they’re very hard to catch! I have been hunting them for years. Still no luck. It isn’t healthy. The Great Goose has become my Moby Dick. I am obsessed.

My friends, the only way to succeed on this mad quest is to keep an open heart and to make sure one’s wits and reflexes remain razor sharp.

But the quest is so discouraging it is all but impossible to stop one’s heart from being poisoned with bile and bitterness. What use is the memory of a glorious village parade when one is knee deep in the muck and being heckled by one’s Enemies? How can one possibly maintain the necessary discipline amidst the onslaught of outrageous fortune’s slings and arrows? Furthermore, one is no longer a spring chicken. Indeed, one is not. The chicken has long since sprung, the bird has flown, and still one’s goose is not cooked. It is truly beyond fowl.

My friends, despite all good reasons to the contrary, I ask you even now to support us on our quest. Perhaps we can find the Great Goose together? My Enemies and I are taking the hunt up and down the East Coast of the United States. We shan’t stop until we achieve satisfaction. 

Please join us! Our spring expedition takes us to New York City, Ithaca, Philmont, Boston, Burlington, Portland, Virginia and North Carolina. You can even follow us to Philadelphia.

And what a night we shall have! Of course, it won’t be pretty. It never was. But there is still yet some deranged kind of glory in this adventure, isn’t there? Please don’t come to one of our extravaganzas hoping to witness a horrible accident like gawkers rubber-necking at a doomed Reality Show. Come instead with admiration. And with love.

For is not our vain quest a little like your own? Beautiful, pathetic and hopeless. Let us sing together and let us give thanks that, though always beyond our reach, there are still dreams out there that can tantalize and inspire us.

Bring a shotgun. 

Graduate School Blues

No, I'm not in school. And I don't currently have the blues.

But over the last few months there have been times when I've felt like a depressed graduate student. The strange thing about this Festival (that is the New York Musical Theater Festival) is that there are times when I feel like I've been accepted into an institution full of wonderful people, all extremely friendly and helpful, who are very kindly helping me on the way to debt and penury. Of the twelve productions accepted by the Festival for this year's Next Link Series, it's likely that only one will ever go on to turn a profit. Yes, the odds are stacked against us. But we all plow on anyway, like clueless graduate students!

Still, there is a difference. And I remembered it today after the first Above Hell's Kitchen full production meeting. At least we go into bankruptcy having fun!

Running For President

I am very much out of my comfort zone. They say this is a good thing. It's how we grow. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I've never been much of a fan of musical theater, but here I am in midtown Manhattan taking meetings, doing site visits, attending casting sessions. I feel a bit like a dude who has never cared much for politics who suddenly finds himself running for President. Presumably I have some bold new vision, some reason that has compelled me to enter a field I've never liked. I'm here to shake things up! However, to help me in my cause I need the help of insiders, folks who know how the system works...

"Insiders" hardly ever get a good press. They muzzle a candidate, keep him on message, castrate him. They persuade Al Gore to groom some kind of type A personality that backfires and loses him the election. They focus on image over substance, they throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Yes, it's a very convenient and cliched paradigm. It disregards the fact that President Obama depended on the wisdom of insiders such as David Axelrod to hone both his image and message in order to craft a brilliant campaign in 2008.

In any case, I suddenly find myself in a minority: a rock and roller outnumbered by theater professionals, people who live and breathe the business, and whose friends do the same.  It's a little intimidating. It's all too easy for me to drift into a defensive "me against them" posture. But theater is a collaboration, and 95% of the time my collaborators are probably steering me away from disaster.

Still, I have to pay attention. There's a whole lot of bathwater. But there's also one very large baby!

I just looked in the mirror. The baby needs a shave.

CASTING A NET

So, this is my first official blog. Okay, I've posted various musings during recent years at my website http://www.spottiswoode.com/missives but since nobody could respond to them in the blogosphere they weren't really blogs.

And even those musings have trailed off in recent years. The new genre of instant memoir has quickly turned stale.

So, why am I now starting up again?

Fear!

I am potentially on the brink of making a complete fool of myself and going into debt at the same time! If I'm going to crash I might as well do it with guns blazing, Barnum and Bailey style. I am presenting my musical, ABOVE HELL'S KITCHEN, less than two months from now at the New York Musical Theater Festival. I have no idea how it's going to be paid for. And even though I seem to be assembling a remarkable team of talent to assist me on my journey to debtor's prison, there is still every chance that the show could be a complete embarrassment! For God's sake, we only get to load into the theatre on the day of the first performance.

Then again, it could be the best thing you'll ever see.

Casting has begun....

Please stay tuned, spread the word, and wish me well.