dance

A List of Linky Linkishness

It’s been a while since one of these, eh lovely lurkers?

A Critical Praising of Sex in the City

As the S.O. said, isn’t this story begging for a movie?

Boulder Fringe Fest Artist Lineup 2017

A History of the C-word

Denver Comic Con 2017 (yes, I’ll be presenting there with Page 23)

Seriously, Should a Woman Play Hamlet?

And, finally, an image and a video clip of Boulder Burlesque’s pre-show performance from the Allen Ginsberg birthday bash the other day. Please to enjoy.

ginsbergbitches

How surreal is this? The ol’ perv would’ve approved, methinks…

 

Upcoming Theatrical Event

Funny that I’m not performing either with Band of Toughs, or with Naropa’s poets, but with Boulder Burlesque. An odd group to find as part of the lineup for HOWL: A Ginsberg Birthday Bash. We will be performing a standard piece for them: “Welcome to Burlesque,” but it’ll be with a live jazz band, so. That’ll be pretty cool. I asked Band of Toughs what they were doing, and all they coyly told me was that it involved skulls. So yeah.

Those of you who remember me and my work from grad school will recall how many parallels we all joked and wrote about between luminary Anne Waldman and me (remember that summer when I was her PA?), and this summer, with my hair dyed black again, I’m starting to question my midlife crisis sitch…

Anyway.

Tickets for this amazing sounding variety show are only, like, ten bucks. So I’d recommend it.

ginsberg

Reflections on the Dregs of a Semester Past…

I’m reclining on my Sherlock chair, a cat taking a bath on me, writing this on my phone, lovely lurkers, so forgive any overlooked typos or autocorrect’s odd mistranslations.

As I (the holidays having passed) finally pick up my color-coded calendar to look at the overview of Spring semester coming up, I needs must tie up the loose ends of my thoughts on the events which colored the end of last semester.

Many many research papers abounded for me, work-wise, of course: both Comp 1 & 2 at Front Range and Staging Cultures at Metro all conclude with research papers, all of which took me the better part of two weeks to take care of. Topics included: all sorts of discussion of marginalized cultures and theatre; medical care for trans people; always a couple about gun control; a few about use of LSD for mental health treatments; the CRISPR gene; the beneficial effect of music and playing it; arts in the schools; the benefits of a mandatory minimum sentence; and the dangers of climate change. Apparently some of my Comp 1 students got me a tshirt that has “It’s on the syllabus” emblazoned on it, which I must fetch from them soon before the new semester begins. Such a sweet (self-aware) gesture!

Professional artistic endeavors ended up very satisfactorily–as you’ve seen here, I’m quite happy with how the fights from Outrageous Fortune turned out. What I haven’t had a chance to talk about, though, is the absolutely stellar production of Hand to God, which I was so impressed with, especially acting-wise, and would have been even if my fights hadn’t appeared on the stage. Meaningful, gripping, funny, and a frankly virtuoso performance by a brilliant young actor named John Hauser. You know your fights turned out well when, as the first blow falls (w/perfect angle and sound), the audience collectively catches its breath: “Ooo!” 

How would you choreograph a man smashing his own hand to a pulp with a hammer?


Being a part of both these productions was helpful in the healing process of the continuing stress of my domestic life but especially the most recent heartbreak, which occurred on opening day of OF. (Nope, not writing about that here: buy me a pint or two and we can chat about it if you like)…

But perhaps the most life-changing professional/artistic endeavor has been my experiences with Boulder Burlesque. Since joining the training program in October, I’ve had the happy opportunity to choreograph, perform, and slumber party with these amazing women (and men); and also work the enlightening (to me) and super-fun Kink Carnival. This last event has contributed to my continued growth in my sexual exploration and expression, as I am sort of starting from where I left off in my 20s in that area. For more about that sort of thing, Facebook-friend Valkyrie Rose, my burlesque persona. I may do simple things here like share basic events, but if this subject matter and my journey thereinto interests you further, you’ll find more of my musings about it on that profile.

That’s about it, lovely lurkers! I should be much more frequent a poster here now too, and stay tuned for another musing upon the upcoming semester. It’ll be a busy one…

Stage Movement Class: sign up please pt. 2

Yes, lovely lurkers, I have taken to begging for students to take the Stage Movement course over at MSU Denver. Well, yanno, it has been cancelled due to underenrollment enough that I feel I need to explain what makes this class such an essential part of a student’s experience at Metro, especially in the Theatre Department.

Here’s the thing: the skills learned in this class don’t only apply to

Don't make this sad clown even sadder. Sign up for Stage Movement.

Don’t make this sad clown even sadder. Sign up for Stage Movement.

the performing arts student. Not at all–actually I’ve had the following diverse folks take this course (beyond the theatre majors, for whom this class is required):

  • a major in accounting
  • a 75-year-old auditing the course for fun
  • an 8th grader interested in the clowning arts
  • a poli-sci major
  • a couple English majors
  • someone who was undecided, who wanted to be able to have good presence in front of a crowd

Recently I have received some advice from an intimate friend in the career reboot department, and I am realizing that these skills are all excellent ones for building my corporate consulting practice. All of these things (body language, vocal work, social status manipulation, presentation skills, etc.) are the difference between a corporate drudgery and a successful businessperson.

 

Random Movement Pic

Trapeze angst. Because the best angst is trapeze angst. You can't tell from this pic, but I'm actually flying *really* fast. From rehearsal for Theatre of the Vampires, 1996. Frequent Flyers.

Trapeze angst. Because the best angst is trapeze angst. And when it’s vampire angst as well? The best angst EVAR. You can’t tell from this pic, but I’m actually flying *really* fast. And for Pete’s sake, Jenn, you’re in your early 20s: suck in that beer belly! Sheesh…
From rehearsal for Theatre of the Vampires, 1996. Frequent Flyers.

 

 

BIFF Review #2: Love and Loss

Fringe Fest Review #2: Love and Loss

Review by Jenn Zuko


The audience files in, quietly, taking in the beauty of the church sanctuary, admiring the peaked, mullioned windows and the propensity of warm wooden surfaces everywhere: floors, wall sconces, pews. The audience spaces itself out in said wooden pews, knees resting inches from Bibles, hymn books moved aside to have room to sit. After a brief pause, as the congregation admires the near-sunset sunshine, streaming in from the translucent windows, a lean, lacy-legged woman strides out onstage in impossibly high heels that tie up her leg, and awkwardly cracks a whip down center. Smiling easily, she tries another couple of times before getting a really satisfying crakk! sound, and the audience shows its approval with startled but delighted applause. She greets us, and remarks that it always takes a few tries with those things…

The woman is Madame Merci, the emcee of Boulder Burlesque’s evening called Love and Loss. She serves as an anchor of sorts throughout the hour of sexy dance pieces, and though she does perform a couple of times herself, is more the travel guide for us through the journey of powerful sexuality, sensuality, beauty, and exploration. A strip club this is not, as the evening as a whole stays under the theme of the title, Mme. Merci narrates for us in between each piece (between autobiographical anecdotes, brief performer bios, philosophical ruminations on the burlesque arts, and more), and the dancers are both less nude and more sexual than you’ll find at a strip joint. 

Things that stand out about this group include Merci herself, as she opens the evening discussing the fact that we are in a church, that in some countries doing such a thing would be punishable by death. To be reminded of privilege is a very good thing, and Merci proceeded to give the audience permission, for many things, throughout the evening. The performances were lovely, with ladies and gentlemen of various body types and shades, which again was nice to see: a much wider spectrum of real sexy beauty than one would normally find in a strip club. What was missing a little for me was the high level of dance ability I (for some reason) came expecting. Sexy and fun, lovely and creative they all were, but technical excellence in dance I didn’t find. Thing is, that’s really not the point of this show. At all. 

And there was audience participation. Not only the catcalls and applause, which were much whip-encouraged by Merci, but in one group dance, any audience members that felt the impulse were allowed up on stage in whatever state of undress they felt comfortable in, to join the dancers in one very tribal piece. 

Overall, I recommend Love and Loss wholeheartedly. It’s a lovely, sexy, fun, heckuva time. 

RATING: 4.5 stars out of 5

For more performances and tickets, visit the Boulder Fringe Festival website.

P.S. You may be asking yourselves, lovely lurkers, if I went up onstage myself in that group/audience piece. Do you need to ask, really? 

Teaser for the next project

I’m doing another theatrical project, lovely lurkers (because I’m a glutton for punishment?), which I have no energy to go into detail about now, except that it’s taking place in early June (remember the Princess Bride one last year?) and I will be playing THE ROLE OF A LIFETIME. Guess what part I’ve been cast in, in the Five 5ths of Labyrinth. Go on, guess.

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