The Road to Edinburgh: Tech, Busking, and Opening

Arriving at our technical rehearsal in theSpace@Venue 45

It's been a long road to get to the Edinburgh Fringe. This journey started about two years ago - and there has been a lot of time and energy spent to get us here. It's been a growth opportunity as well - learning from both the things that have gone well, and the things that have gone wrong.

On the Scottish border.

Spiking our stage blocks and working with projections

After 8 hours on a bus from London - we hit the border, and the ground, running. From our two hour technical rehearsal - that went way too quickly to feel fully comfortable opening - to hanging posters on The Royal Mile, and handing out fliers to encourage people to come see the show - this troupe has stuck together, gotten lost, worked hard, operated on too little sleep, walked until we can't feel our feet, and we're loving every minute of it.

The tech team at theSpace@Venue45 helped us set our projector, scrim, and lighting. We ran and adapted fight choreography and problem solved. We adjusted our show to a fourth space, found the exits and entrances, flipped some blocking, got used to stage blocks that don't lock in place the way ours do, got frazzled with the time crunch, and spiked our set.

Getting used to stage blocks and re-sizing projections

We spent the rest of the day out on the Royal Mile exploring and figuring out how to hand out fliers. It's a zoo out there, and there is definitely an art to getting people to notice your group. There are over 55,000 performances to chose from - so it's quite a job to get noticed. We found that companies hire people to hand out their fliers. We have found some people quite happy to find we are handing out our own.

Amidst all of the work - we are also finding time for fun - but we'll post about those things later. For now - we have our heads in the game for our opening night!

Working on lighting

Lessons Learned:

1. It's important to stick together, even when you're tired of each other.

2. There are a million stories to hear, if you're willing to listen.

3. It's not all about us...really.

4. It's a big, bright, beautiful world out there, and our little corner of it is really very small.

5. Art inspires us, troubles us, challenges us, unites us, and teaches us what it is to be human.

Ready to sell our show out on the Royal Mile.

We're thankful for all of the sponsors who helped us get here.

It's official - posters are up.

NYC - I’m in a New York State of mind

My brother and sister-in-law have lived in New York City for a few decades. On the second day of his new teaching career there, the unspeakable happened. It was September 11. I remember I was talking on the phone to the superintendent of ISD 15 in St Francis when I had to get off the phone to try to reach my brother. Many of the students in his school had parents and family who worked in the area of the World Trade Center. He and the staff stayed with the students until everyone could be reunited with family. Miraculously - there was only one death of a family member.

He started his career as he ended it there - in service to families and students. 

On the 4th of July, my daughter Abilene and I flew to NYC to help Tim and his family pack up their Manhattan Apartment in order to move from the most uptight island in the U.S. to the most laid back. In August he starts his job as Chaplain at the Iolani school in Hawaii. Here, I know he will serve another community in their own times of joy and sorrow.

One of my nephews was off for a final weekend with some of his besties - which left my youngest nephew to bear the brunt of the packing up. It turns out - Abby and I were of more help by taking Elijah out on some adventures while His Tim and Kara sorted years of their lives into keep,  throw and give away piles.

As a theatre director with a theatre major daughter, we were able to take in a few shows. The first we attended just the two of us - and got to see the Tony Award Winning revival of Oklahoma at the Circle in the Square. From the online reaction of friends and colleagues around the country , I figured out this was sort of an either you love it or hate it type of show. Luckily for me, I’ve never been a huge fan of the original Oklahoma- so this version that explores the darker themes in a more realistic way was right up my alley.

The intimate space lent itself to this bare bones and imaginative re-telling. I’ve always thought about what it takes to boil a work down to its essence, and this was it - quite literally. The stage was simply an array of picnic tables, chairs, Crock pots and piles of corn. The walls surrounding the audience held dozens of shot guns. They even fed the audience chili and cornbread at intermission. The performances were sultry and raw and full of power. We left feeling unsettled and knowing we’d just shared something powerful.

For the rest of the weekend - we took Elijah to Central Park to meet up with my good friend Richard - who - when it comes down to it - is the whole reason I’m married to Joel. He set us up on our first date over the headset at the Cricket Theatre in Minneapolis. That’s a true showmance - that’s lasted 29 years. Richard is the kind of friend that it never seems as if we’ve been apart. His Twins and Elijah navigated the Park’s splash features on the muggy, humid day - while we got to visit and catch up. His husband was busy on previews for Moulin Rouge - so we missed John. 

We spent the evening taking Elijah to the Play the Goes Wrong. As he fancies himself a comedian - we thought this hilarious physical comedy would be perfect - and it didn’t disappoint.

It was hard to leave Tim and Kara on that final day - knowing we’d never be back to their New York Apartment that has been so much a part of their lives. Where babies turned into boys and evidence  of birthday parties past still decorated their room walls. 

Lessons learned:

1. Thoughtful, interesting choices in theatre will always outweigh pure entertainment in my book.
2. Sometimes the best glimmers of humanity happen in an New York Cab when your Episcopalian priest brother strikes up a conversation with the Muslim Cab driver about his prayer beads - and you witness true respect, and beautiful laughter on a hot summer night.
3. My sister-in-law is one of the most giving people on the planet and I'm so glad she is in my life.
4. Children can truly make friends with anyone and have a glorious day together, full of adventure and new experiences - especially when they are all 9 years old. 
5. Some friendships transcend time and space - and it’s nice just to know that other person is out there in the universe for you.

Recapturing wonder

The truth is that as amazing as a trip can be when we hit our final destination, the act of traveling - the journey itself - is often rife with stress. Flying from Minnesota with my mom and 3 daughters, even though we’re all adults, was no exception.

It was certainly not the way my oldest daughter wanted to spend her 26th birthday - in an airport swirling through the Disneyland-like TSA lines. We wound our way to the front only to find our boarding passes did not register on the scanner. Back down again to the ticketing counter to re-issue passes and then back up to TSA - it wasn’t a stellar way to start the journey - especially with an already skeptical 85-year-old mother who had “never heard of Sun Country Airlines.” I’m not sure our experience with them endeared the airline to her, but I didn’t feel too badly about the Minnesota company - even when every departure gate was at the absolute end of the airport.

Mom and I had the wing seat with a great view of the clouds.

It made me wonder, though, when every single thing became monetized. Choosing seats in advance? Cha ching. Carry on bag? Cha ching. Checking a bag? Cha ching. You can even pay more to avoid lines by letting them scan your finger prints and retinas. Somehow this makes me uncomfortable, but I can probably pay someone to have that feeling alleviated.

Once on board, there was a talkative little boy behind us. He showed wonder at every little moment.

“I need to re-capture that ability,” I thought.

He looked out of his window and marveled at the clouds, the sky, the mountain, the tiny houses, the cars on the ground, the rivers. As we were getting ready to land the flight attendant announced we would have to exit the plane outside and then board a bus to take us to the terminal. The entire flight let out a collective moan.

“Dad,” this little voice brimming with excitement behind me asked, “We get to take a BUS, too? Did you KNOW this? ”

“Yes, buddy,” his dad answered. “You’re going to get to experience LOTS of kinds of transportation on this trip!”

The fact that we can hurl ourselves through the air in a metal tube and reach the other side of the country in a matter of hours? That’s incredible. Three full days of clear sky’s and a view of Mt Ranier in Washington State? AMAZING. We can rent a car, let Siri navigate us from Point A to Point B (with only minor mix ups - West Seattle is a pretty cool little place), put a car on a boat and travel across an expanse of water, and find an Olive Garden open at 9 pm when you’re so hungry you start thinking about how clearly you understand the choices the Donner party had to make.

Finally made it to the BRIDGE to cross over to Silverdale, WA after a misadventure into West Seattle
that accidentally took us to the Ferry.

The three days may not have been as idyllic as our Facebook, instagram, and snap chat may have shown. We got salty with each other. Hangry, frustrated, whiny, and pointy. We lamented at times the little courtesies we had to show, even when we wanted to curl up in a ball - or scream - or retreat from the pure exhaustion that life throws our way.

Some of the group went on a wine tasting
adventure together.

But we also had three days to reunite with family from all over the country. I got to hug my Aunt Virginia, Aunt Carolina, Mom Georgia, Uncle Tex, and Aunt Maryland - all still with it. I got to spend time with my brother, my cousins, my nephews, and my daughters. We shared stories, hopes, memories, and sorrows. We celebrated our time together and mourned those who were no longer with us. We revealed truths and were able to sit together around tables and break bread and drink wine together.

My cousin Jane

The pictures of memories spread out before us. People who have CHOSEN to be a part of this crazy clan through marriage and commitment.
Tex and Georgia on the beach in Hawaii. Big brother Tim with his dark-haired baby sister. My older cousins - hair so long they could sit on it. My California cousins looking like something straight out of an 80s teen movie. My three Indiana cousins - three sisters sharing their lives - just like my own girls. A photo of Mary where I now see a reflection of her daughter and  granddaughter. Five siblings captured in black and white film who went on to create generations. My sweet dad, laughing at someone behind the lens of an instamatic camera. We were all younger once.

The trees on our walk at the Bloedel Reserve on Bainbridge Island, WA

“Dad!” I want to say excitedly, “Did you KNOW this?

The five Lewis siblings from our 2015 reunion in French Lick, IN

Lessons learned:

1. People want to love you, even when you don’t feel lovable.
2. Shared histories create powerful bonds.
3. Water, mountains, sunshine, and a good walk can renew the spirit.
4. The bus at the end of the plane ride is an opportunity to get you that much closer to where you want to be.

On the Ferry headed back to Seattle, WA

Fighting for the Fringe

Getting ready to take a show overseas can be a real knock down, drag out process. Lucky for us, we have the help of Twin Cities fight choreographer Aaron Preusse from The Fake Fighting Company (http://www.fakefighting.com/)

We have 4 fight sequences to choreograph and perfect for Hearts Like Fists. This means hours of rehearsal to get every move just right, taking the fights at 1/2 speed, then 3/4, and finally full speed. Punches, kicks, slaps, and tumbling moves have to be precise - not only to give the fight the illusion of reality, but also for safety. This week we have our final rehearsals with Aaron as we get ready for Edinburgh. 

Rehearsal at Anoka Ramsey Community College Cambridge Campus

In addition to figuring out blocking, memorization, characterization, pacing, and all technical elements like sound, lighting, costumes, and props. 

The last time I directed this show we had to cut it to meet the 35 minute MSHSL One Act requirement - and we had about 15 actors and 3 technicians. This time we're taking the whole show with 7 actors and one technician. That means we've done some creative re-imagining of some scenes - with a few characters being played by life-sized dummies designed by the amazing Deb Oas Koepsell. Made to fold up in a suitcase and travel - the actors have also been having a good time figuring out how to incorporate these puppets into the show.

Rehearsal with our dummy friend at AR Cambridge Campus.

We hope our friends and families can make it to our farewell performance on July 25 at the AR Cambridge Campus at 8 pm. We are learning more and more about the show, ourselves, and what it will take to be successful in Edinburgh each and every day.

Lessons learned:

1. Going back and exploring a text you've worked with before is a worthwhile endeavor and, like re-reading a favorite book, provides new insights and understanding.

2. A well-planned fight takes hours to rehearse to make it look spontaneous.

3. Safety first! But it's hard to fight slow when you want to go fast!

4. I never thought I'd hear the following phrase in my lifetime: "MO - I put the bodies in the back of your car."

Glenn MO in MO: Storms, Storm Troopers, Harry Potter, the school of my childhood, and sitting in my father's chair

I had forgotten what a good Missouri rainstorm feels like. How it starts with the smell in the air and a heaviness. The green of the grass merges into sky and the drops begin to fall. There is so much more water in each drop than I remembered - drops so heavy the leaves bounce with their weight. Lightning strobes and the thunder sounds like cannon fire - resonating long after it shakes your insides. The ground turns to swamp as the water seeps up over shoes, trying to suck them down into the earth. Mom and Dad would call them real "gully washers." Umbrellas are useless; resistance is futile. 

And just like that  - my day began - "fresh as a Missouri morning."

But around here, the weather changes as quickly as I change my mind - or my shoes (ask my husband about that). On this visit - I had a chance to explore the grounds of my childhood elementary school. Shepherd Boulevard School was designed as a neighborhood school. It turns out people were pretty smart about education around here in the early 70s - and they created this amazing little school that raised a generation of students who were some of the most tight-knit group of friends a person could imagine. I recall people in my high school commenting that the Shepherd kids had some kind of special bond. As an educator now myself, I think back and recognize some of the strategies. Small class sizes, a dynamic principal, and engaging teachers. It helped that there were only 2 classes per grade level. We were always together - and teachers often team taught.

As I walked the grounds where my formal education began, so many memories flooded my mind. I remember the games we played at recess. We had to have great imaginations - there wasn't much of a playground to speak of.  My students now don't believe me when I tell them that we didn't have swings or slides or teeter totters. - we had giant cement culvert tubes, metal bars, and gray gravel to cushion our falls. I can't count the number of times I came home with bloodied knees, gravel embedded. But to us- the cement tubes became horses as our wagon train made its way though unknown territories. The gravel was an archaeologist's dream - as we sifted and picked the crinoid fossils out. The bars became ships and places we could challenge one another to contests of strength, endurance, and full-on tag wars. The stakes were high, alright. How many of my classmates lost a tooth or risked the cuts and scrapes to master the monkey bars? Who remembers playing Little House on the Prairie because Miss Allard read us the books or their special day when Mrs. Heitgard made us royalty of the day - or the amazing swap meets in Mrs. White and Mrs Fischer's classes - where we learned how to spend and budget money using real world application - as 5th graders?

One of the climbing devices at the Shepherd Blvd Elementary School Playground.
I can't believe it's still there!

All of this swept over me as Mom and I chatted and walked and talked about how much things have changed and how much is still the same.


Sultry afternoons in Missouri do wash into hot summer nights - and this visit I got to attend a concert series of this same name by the Missouri Symphony Orchestra. This evening it was a stunning performance of selections of music from all of the Harry Potter Films in the first half - and selections from all of the Star Wars films after intermission. The musicians had dressed the parts - with numerous Hogwarts robes, Hagrid, and even Hedwig arrived on the conductor's arm. There's were also Luke Skywalkers, Princess Leias, and storm troopers. Although I was disappointed there was no Chewie, the music was magical and out of this world. The best part - though- was sitting in the gorgeous Missouri Theatre in the balcony seat that bore my father's name. As I peered over the balcony - I remembered this was the very theatre where I saw the original Star Wars when it was first released. I think I went back at least seven times. It was truly groundbreaking. The Missouri Theatre was also a place we  kids could escape the prying eyes of adults for a few short hours. My parents thought nothing of dropping me off at the movies with friends. The movie theatre was hard on the historic structure - so when the Missouri Symphony Society decided to buy and refurbish it - my dad and mom spent their spare time on hands and knees repairing chairs and scraping gum. Now here I was, sitting in a chair with his name on it, enjoying a concert in the theatre they worked so hard to save.

Program from the Hot Summer Nights concert

Larry Morehouse nameplate on the balcony seat - front row at the Missouri Theatre.

The Playhouse at Stephens College - another theatre that saved me.

Lessons learned:

1. Sone days it's ok just to stay inside and enjoy the sound of the rain.

2. Entire worlds can and have been created from steel pipes, cement tubes, and a child's imagination.

3. Whether we save the theatre, or the theatre saves us - theatre saves.

On the Road to MO

On the road again...

Prologue:
I put away my blogging hat once I returned from Scotland last summer - probably because the title of my Blog is so accurate. I really am always on the go. As a teacher, my schedule seems to get so full during the school year that I forget that writing is one of the things that brings me joy - and yes - even helps me make sense out of life. As my husband says, "Writing is thinking." So here I am, facing another summer of possibilities and hoping I can take the time to write about thoughts, experiences, and life in a way that offers clarity, humanity, insight - and maybe a little humor.

The demolition and work on the theatre has begun.

This summer has started the way many others have - my school year bleeds into June as I prepare for Spotlight Showcase and start rehearsals for the Children's Theatre I run in the summers. But this year because of building construction, we have no place to perform. It was a bit of a welcomed break, however, because I am rehearsing the show my theatre students will be taking to Edinburgh, Scotland in August. Instead of working with 2nd graders through high schoolers, I found myself scrambling for rehearsal space for our Showcase Medley of Beauty and the Beast and a potential rehearsal and performance space where we might preview our Scotland show (Hearts Like Fists) before we take it abroad.

Our cast of Beauty and the Beast on the stage of the State Theatre
in Minneapolis for Spotlight Awards

Rehearsing Hearts Like Fists at Sandhill Center for the Arts.

With some generous help from our Community Ed Coordinator, a friend from Anoka Ramsey Community College, and Natalie Johnson's garage - we have pieced together a rehearsal schedule in three different spaces, and secured a spot for a Bon Voyage show. My summer began as I took over the family Suburban with lugging stage blocks and costumes from space to space.

The Cast of Hearts Like Fists

Rehearsal at Sandhill Center for the Arts

On the Road:
With all of that in the works - I scheduled in some time to take a road trip back to Missouri to visit Mom. I had hoped it wouldn't be a solitary drive, but it turns out the rest of my family is as busy as I am - so yesterday I gassed up the Prius and hit the road - solo.

Highway 63 North just before the Stadium Blvd. Exit for the Shepherd neighborhood I grew up in. 

There is something to be said about taking a long road trip by yourself. It afforded something I found I'd been missing - time to think. As the city of Minneapolis melted into suburbs and then countryside, the 500 mile drive helped me find a piece of myself that had been hiding, or maybe just neglected. I allowed my mind to wander into memories, stretch out to the future, and value the present. As a metaphor for life, a road trip is good one.

Mom's ficus tree - after the storm

Over the 8 1/2 hour drive, I experienced all kinds of weather. I powered through a rainstorm near Mason City that almost made me pull off the road. I could barely see the tail lights of the car in front of me or the white lines beside me. As in life, I experienced the fear of not feeling in control - of not seeing the path clearly - of questioning my decisions at each curve. In the midst of the storm, my focus had to be on what was in front of me. When the storm finally broke, I felt my muscles relax and my confidence return.

This trip also gave me time to listen to much of the music in my phone's music library. I haven't really just sat and listened to music for pure enjoyment in a very long time. The Prius is a small car, but it held the voices of Alison Karauss, Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, Brandi Carlile, Cyndy Lauper, Liza Minnelli, Sutton Foster, The Dixie Chicks, Indigo Girls, Jennifer Knapp, Jewell, Martina McBride, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Nanci Griffith, Sara Bareilles, and hundreds of Broadway belters. I thought about my world recently, and how that may be exactly what I'd been missing - the voices of strong women with passionate stories to tell. Because even though women have been writing, and singing, and creating since time began, we are still struggling to be heard.

It made me think of the extraordinary moment in Tony Awards history the week before - where  Hadestown won the first Tony award in history led by an all female principal team. Director Rachel Chavkin's impassioned speech nailed it: "...we heal ourselves through song and through each other...Life is a team sport and so is walking out of Hell. It's about whether you can keep faith when you are made to feel alone...I wish I wasn’t the only woman directing a musical on Broadway this season. There are so many women who are ready to go, there are so many artists of color who are ready to go. And we need to see that racial diversity and gender diversity reflected in our critical establishment too. This is not a pipeline issue. It is a failure of imagination by a field whose job is to imagine the way the world could be. So let’s do it.”

And that made me think of the strong woman I was on my way to see. The first memory I have is  being rocked in a rocking chair and hearing my mother's voice singing to me. She raised me up, never doubting I could succeed at anything I set my mind to. She went to college, she worked, she volunteered, she raised children, she taught kindness, she told us stories, she sang us songs, she took us to the basement and held us tight until the storms had passed over - and she taught us - no matter how it might feel, we are never on the road alone.

Mom and I looked at some photos together my first night home, and read some of her diary entries.

Mom's backyard garden after the rain

Mom's backyard garden after the rain

Home sweet home

Lessons Learned:

1. After the storm, the clarity returns and the windshield is cleaner, and even when you get hit with the back spray from a giant semi-truck, you know you can make it farther down the road.

2. You're never alone when you have the company of good, strong women.

3. It's a journey to go home, but it's worth it when mom is there to welcome you in.

Final day Scotland: Fringetastic

Our final day in Edinburg - and we made the most of it.

We actually ate breakfast this morning before heading down the to the National Museum of Scotland. The only problem was that by the time we got there, we had to head out right away to a show at The Central theatre. What was to be a fifteen minute walk stretched to over 25 minutes - funny how that happens when you're lost.

We made it to the production Chicano History 101 just as the doors were closing. After a heartfelt show about the struggle of Mexican Americans in America, we went BACK down to the museum to meet our friends - and headed to a relaxing lunch at Revolution. Jolie and I spent some more time exploring the history of fashion in the museum, and caught a few pop up dance performers in the museum and another street performer outside.

We headed back to The Central to catch a performance of AHSTF students from Texas performing an original piece called Vox: A fairtale for a New Age by Rowlett High School in Texas . This movement based piece was a beautiful piece of physical story telling - in almost complete silence. This was truly stunning.

https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/vox-a-fairy-tale-for-a-new-age

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLftSxgnJjk


We then went to George Square to see the musical improvisational theatre produced by Baby Wants Candy. They create an entire musical based on suggestions from the audience.

https://www.babywantscandy.com/

After the show - we walked back to our neighborhood and a late dinner at Rigatoni's. This is a fantastic little Italian restaurant with an owner who could have his own Fringe show. He dances and sings to the tables, makes jokes, and is a huge personality. They made room for us and stayed open a bit later just so our party of six could eat. The pesto I ordered was delicious - and I topped it off with Scottish tablet gelato - tablet is a little like what we call fudge. After a delicious meal, we stumbled off for a few hours sleep before getting a taxi at 3 am to get us to the airport.

Lessons Learned:

1. When you think you can't walk any further - you can.

2. When it's cold and windy outside, it's warm and welcoming in a theatre space.

3. Musical improvisation is a medium I had never tried before - and I love it. (I even had a chance to try it in a min-workshop with Baby Wants Candy - My students will have an opportunity to do a workshop with this crazy group next summer in Scotland).

4. Even when you think you're not hungry - Italian food can prove you wrong.

Peace.