At eight years old the best reward I could hope for was a chance to listen to my mother’s vinyl copy of A Chorus Line. Years before I had my first opportunity to see a production, I’d memorized the words to every song. My favorite was “Dance: Ten; Looks: Three.” Careful to step lightly so the record didn’t skip, I’d twirl around the living room braying the song’s refrain: “Tits and ass, stage and balcony. What they want is what cha see.”
A Chorus Line was first produced in 1975 and offers a behind the scenes look at the life of dancers drawn to New York, each desperate to find stardom. Based on the anecdotes of actual dancers, several of whom joined the first cast, the show went on to win the 1976 Pulitzer Prize for drama not to mention nine Tony’s.

Last weekend I had the mixed pleasure of revisiting what has become one of my top five favorite musicals. Staged by Aurora’s charming Paramount Theatre, the show is directed and choreographed by Mitzi Hamilton, a veteran of the original London company and the inspiration for one of the lead roles.

“It's my homage to (original director/choreographer) Michael Bennett,” Hamilton tells me. “He created a perfect musical; seamless. [The show] gives the dancer a chance to be in the spotlight. It celebrates their sacrifices and hard work.” Revisiting the show she adds is “like coming home.”

Having only seen Broadway touring productions, my expectations were perhaps inflated. Though Hamilton’s choreography compelled, several vocalists seemed to aim at rather than hit their notes. Still, Paramount’s production boasted several standout singers, specifically Katie Spelman as Maggie. Kevin Curtis (Richie) showed off some eye-popping gymnastic dances moves as well.

At heart however, A Chorus Line is a series of character studies, and if actors are encouraged toward cartoonish, larger than life portrayals, the show falls flat. Though Pegah Kadkhodaian delivered a model Morales, several more minor roles seemed inhabited by women directed to inflate their renderings to the point of caricature. Yet even when imperfect, A Chorus Line remains a favorite; it’s spirit cannot help but shine through.

I’ve seen playwright and actor Rory Jobst naked, but I’ve also seen the unprotected profundity of his work. His new play, Samuel Beckett, Andre the Giant, and the Crickets is likely no exception, by which I mean it’s insightful, not that Jobst shows up naked in it—though I wouldn’t put it past him. Based on the real life connection between Irish Nobel-winning playwright Samuel Beckett and wrestler Andre the Giant, the show is part of Rhinofest 2012. Jobst spoke with me about his famous father Beau O’Reilly, his influences and even his nude interlude.

Our Town Your work tends to reflect on pop culture. What’s the fascination for you?
Rory Jobst People tend to regard pop culture as a passive thing; it's what you discuss on your lunch break. What you watch or listen to in your underwear. While those things are true to a certain extent, I think that pop culture is way more serious. Trends in entertainment are popular because they reflect the world we are living in. We relate to them on some level. "Write what you know," the old adage says. Well, I know plenty about [pop culture]!

OT Your father is Chicago mainstay Beau O’Reilly. What’s it like to enter the Chicago theater scene when your father casts such a long shadow?
RJ It's definitely something I consider, because we more or less have similar aesthetics. The odd thing is, [theater] is what I wanted to do growing up, and I didn't really even have a relationship with him until I was a teenager. I seemed to have been drawn to this lifestyle independent of his influence. That is not to say that he hasn't had a tremendous influence on my life and work. I even had the privilege of being one of his students in a playwriting class at SAIC [and] he has always been very supportive of my work, offering helpful, honest feedback, and getting me involved in some really cool projects to boot. As far as the Chicago Theatre scene, I've met and worked with some amazing companies and people the old fashioned way: by auditioning a lot and maintaining lasting partnerships. I feel like after about eight years on the scene I have developed a name for myself, and so has my brother, Colm, who has been on the scene for a long time, too. But what matters the most is that we are all supportive of each other’s work, and that has been fantastic.

OT You’re infamous at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago for taking to heart an assignment to reenact a dream and running through the halls naked. As an artist is it important to take yourself out of your comfort zone?
RJ Infamous, eh? I had no idea. And half naked, for the record. That was a very rewarding project, because the nudity just brought a vulnerability to that piece. I would always have these dreams of not wearing any pants, but walking around in public as if it were socially acceptable. I was fortunate to have a more or less positive reaction to it. It didn't feel as much shocking as a very private moment that I just happened to be sharing with about 30 people. I think it is important to be taken out of your comfort zone, not to say that I do enough of that myself. I've gotten very comfortable writing these two person pop culture mash up shows. Actually, for my latest piece, I found that getting out of my comfort zone involved resisting the need to be shocking. For instance, my work usually is chock full of profanity, sex, and violence. I am happy to say that there is not a single F-bomb in this piece!

All photos by Sheri Berliner

Animal trainer Chris Dignan has one mission: to raise awareness about the plight of homeless dogs. A former dolphin trainer at the Shedd Aquarium, Dignan is now the President and Director of Training for The Dog Saving Network (DSN), an organization which highlights the benefits of positive reinforcement training. Our Town spoke with Dignan about training tips, his dog talent show, Life’s Ruff, and all things canine.

Our Town What drew you to animal training?
Chris Dignan You will have to ask my mom! As far back as I can remember I have been interested in animals; dinosaurs, whales and dolphins peaked my interest. There isn't a huge demand for dino trainers these days so whales and dolphins it was!

OT Describe your methods.
CD I'm a positive reinforcement trainer. I reward behavior that I like so the dog does it again or train a dog to do what I need him to. Like most trainers, I break a complex behavior into a series of smaller steps and systematically work towards the finished behavior. By using these small steps or approximations, you can teach a dog to do whatever it is physically capable of and it stays fun for the dog throughout!

OT What inspired Life’s Ruff?
CD We had a dog show [at the Shedd Aquarium] for a while about training pets using the same techniques that are used to train marine mammals. Tons of people would come up and ask if they could adopt one of the dogs in the show. The plan was to adopt out the dogs after the show was over so I had to tell people "not now" or "check back in a few months.” I never liked that answer so I started thinking of ways that shows could be used to raise awareness for homeless animals while highlighting the importance of training [but also] as adoption events. I want people to understand that anyone can train their dogs as long as they are committed to the process. Life's Ruff is the first of many new and different shows we hope to produce that can be used to super-charge adoptions while inspiring people to train.

OT You hope to use your Dog Saving Network to change the way the country views shelter and rescue dogs and looks to provide an easy to follow alternative to some of the more popular, aversive training methods in use today. Can you expand on this a bit?
CD I hope to show people what homeless dogs CAN do, when given the chance, instead of focusing on their challenges. There are so many dogs that need homes right now and we, as a country, need to shift our mindset towards making adoption the first choice when looking for a dog. One of the hardest things for me to see is a dog misbehaving and an owner using the excuse of "he's a rescue" or "he's a shelter dog.” Yes, dogs that come from the shelter or rescue system can have behavioral problems but that can be true of any dog, regardless of their previous living arrangements. I want people to be proud of their adopted animals and understand that being a good dog owner requires work, not excuses. Every dog that comes from a shelter or rescue has a chance to become a messenger for all shelter and rescued animals. It's up to the owners to make that happen.

Photo by Johnny Knight

Multifaceted writer/director/teacher Kelli Strickland emailed me from a swamp. Out of town for the holidays, her internet connection was spotty, but Strickland’s opinions came through loud and clear. Star of the much buzzed-about film Hannah Free, Strickland is on the cusp of opening her one-woman show "We’ve Got a Badge for That." A “love letter of sorts to the Girl Scouts,” the show has been performed locally and nationally. Below Strickland shares her thoughts on lesbian films, arts education and more.

Our Town How was your experience filming Hannah Free?
Kelli Strickland It was filmed at a rather breakneck speed but the people who came together to make that happen were a force to be reckoned with. The reception to the story was pretty overwhelming. I still get emails from people all over the world who have lost partners or grew up in a very different time period that tell me that it resonated with them.

OT How do you feel about the category “lesbian films?”
KS Categories are handy and can serve a purpose and inevitably tick some people off. You could argue that to describe any work as 'lesbian' in nature is to contribute to the gay ghetto-ization of a piece or you could argue that there are films made by and for lesbians, and why not label it that? I believe that stories are important. And so long as people are working hard to tell those stories and audiences are benefiting from hearing those stories, call it what you like.

OT I haven’t seen Hannah Free, so this isn’t a swipe at that film, but I’m pretty critical of most lesbian films. I have this sense that lesbians (even in 2011) are so desperate to see themselves reflected in art that they celebrate even the mediocre. Any thoughts on this?
KS I suppose that an under-representation in media does lead to a celebration of any and all representation. But I hesitate to lay the blame at the feet of audiences for not being discerning enough or even the art makers, for that matter. As your question suggests, that desperation for representation indicates what a dearth of films there were. Film is an incredibly expensive proposition and until recently, highly dependent on the literal and metaphorical green light from people who didn't seem all that interested in telling queer stories. So, yes, I think often the projects were and are homegrown, grassroots efforts – made by those same people who wanted to see themselves onscreen. Changes in the cultural landscape are definitely afoot, however, when a movie like “The Kids Are All Right” can not only get made, but get made with that kind of budget, that kind of cast, that kind of marketing and distribution and finally that kind of reception. Artists interested in telling queer stories, like all contemporary artists, are currently learning how to navigate a new media world where you can get product out and very process is much more affordable, accessible and therefore democratic. I think that's a good thing for storytellers, especially those storytellers who want to tell the stories that the heads of major studios won't. My guess is that we're in the midst of a great upswing.

OT If you could only act in one medium, which would you choose?
KS Theatre, without question. Especially now, when we consume so much of our films, television, music in isolation with buds in our ears and [on] a tiny screen. Nothing can replace live actors with a live audience sharing that ephemeral time together. It is pure, simple and a unifying act in an increasingly divisive time.

Enough about you, let’s talk about me. I’m sick. I know this because I watched an entire season of The Office on Netflix yesterday and peanut butter seems disgusting. Normally, I will crawl naked across a thicket of thorns to procure peanut butter. (Well, what does your grocery store look like?) Also, when I stand up, the world seems shot by Twilight’s cinematographer; everything is blown out and too close. Also, people are drinking blood through straws. No wait, that’s just the couch.

It’s in this spirit of slight ennui and total deliriousness that I bring you my Utterly Subjective End of Year Round Up in which I speak in absolutes and you can’t object because this site doesn’t support comments.

Let’s ease into this with something indisputable.

1. Best new Chicago Restaurant: Lady Gregory. Only days after opening its doors some time last summer (I’m too sick to google.), this upscale Irish bar and restaurant already felt like a neighborhood mainstay. Since then, LG has made itself indispensable, providing not only delicious food and homey ambiance, but also holiday movie screenings, special whiskey tastings and a winter coat drive. If you’re in the market for a low-key New Year’s Eve destination, LG promises a live DJ, party favors, champagne and best of all, no cover. What are you waiting for? Go. Order the beet salad and tell them I sent you. They will have no idea what you mean, but they will still bring you the salad.

Photo by Patty Michels

In 2006 I moved from Los Angeles to Chicago to attend graduate school and right away the city seemed a perfect fit. Sure, I spent nine months out of the year shivering at bus stops or worse, wearing a down vest in my own freaking apartment, but have you seen the glazed expression that passes for affability in LA?

I don’t do fake, I don’t do easygoing and I certainly don’t do Sasquatch boots with shorts. So while LA does have its benefits (warm weather, content-less conversation, the possibility of running into Liz Phair at ArcLight (which totally happened to me—double parenthesis!--)), Chicago feels like home.

Yet since moving here, I’ve lost countless friends to the West Coast. This is not ironic, merely irritating. What with winter’s encroachment, I’m making it my mission to fight for our fair city. In that spirit, I’ve compiled the following list.

Things to Do in Chicago this December That Won’t Make you Decide to Move to LA:

1. Attend Nickel History: The Nation of Heat, New Etchings by Tony Fitzpatrick at Firecat Projects.

Possibly my favorite aspect of living in Chicago, Fitzpatrick seems the ultimate Renaissance Man. A poet, writer, artist and actor, Fitzpatrick is the kind of prolific which usually requires methamphetamines, but as far as I can tell, Fitzpatrick is fueled by nicotine, dirty jokes and the sheer necessity of realizing his artistic vision.

In lieu of electing him mayor (which is actually my goal—the man has more intelligent things to say about politics (and zombies) than any “politician” out there), go see his gorgeous new work on display through Christmas. More information here.

2. Read the brilliant Sara Levine’s highly anticipated novel, Treasure Island!!!

Okay, technically you could read this sardonic jewel in any location, but Levine is a growing presence in the Chicago literary scene; she belongs to the Windy City man. [Editor’s Note: The author meant to leave out that comma. She is in fact referring to a single entity known as The Windy City Man who she believes nests beneath one of her floorboards. Let’s not disabuse her, shall we?] Having crafted a protagonist as fascinating as she is morally questionable, Levine says, “The literature of malcontents is not without pedigree. Achilles brooded. Odysseus was a selfish jerk. And Dostoevsky's underground man—who'd pick his profile on Match.com? Bernhard, Beckett, Nabokov... obviously my heart belongs to the misfits and misanthropes and criminals.”

And my heart belongs to Sara Levine. Learn more about Treasure Island!!! here.

3. See "Let it Ho!"

This burlesque-inspired revue features five of the funniest Broadz in Chicago showcasing an unaccountably rare combination of sex appeal and smarts. This year’s holiday show offers two new songs, fresh scenes and the same raunchy hilarity you’ve come to expect. I asked Broadz member Ricky Dickuless (Amanda Whitenack) what she likes about the holidays and she had this to say: “My favorite part is the Ham seasoning. Ham is a versatile and underrated dish. Ham can be served cold on bread or hot in a stew or at room temperature on my thighs to a single man looking for a free meal with benefits. I'm single. I'm lonely. And I have a freezer full of ham. My real number is (773) 484-5623.”

I’m totally setting her up with the Windy City Man. He likes Ham. For tickets to "Let it Ho!" go here.

Peter Cieply is back in Chicago and he couldn't be more pleased. Although a notable force in the Chicago theatre scene, Cieply previously relocated to San Francisco to work as managing editor for Stagebill. In 2007, he returned to the windy city where he’s since reestablished Immediate Theatre, originally founded in the 80’s. He spoke with Our Town about his influences, Immediate Theatre's current show and a dynamic new business model.

Our Town What’s it like to be back in Chicago?
Peter Cieply I’ve loved being back in the Chicago theatre world, but now I also work as a private investigator, which puts some limits on what I am able to commit to. I hear the clock ticking very loudly these days—I’m not getting any younger—so I decided to form a production company and start doing what I have been saying I want to do for way too long. My job — and my amazing wife, who started the P.I. agency we run together — is flexible enough to allow me to do this and help support it. I’m excited to see what happens next, and what my career becomes. Life has been so totally full of surprises, and I’ve been so lucky to be able to go wherever things have led me. I have to say they’ve turned out pretty swell so far.

OT What directors would you count as influences?
PC I’ve seen and loved the work of directors like Sam Mendes, Richard Eyre, Matthew Bourne, Mark Rylance, Nicholas Hytner, Max Stafford-Clark, Deborah Warner, Declan Donnellan … the list goes on, [but] I think I’ve been more influenced by the types of theatre I am drawn to than by specific directors. I came up in the Chicago theatre of the ’80s and am steeped in its naturalism and — for me and a lot of my colleagues at the time — its Stanislavsky and Meisner training. I also have spent a lot of time in London and am drawn to British theatre and its slightly larger, more theatrical style.

OT Describe your directing process.
PC Hmm…Idea, enthusiasm; insecurity, terror; conquer terror, make progress. Repeat.
I do consciously work to be kind, grateful, receptive, and collaborative, having worked both sides of the equation. But I’m also pretty strong-willed.

OT How does your approach as a director differ from your approach as an actor?
PC I sometimes find myself wanting to jump to results when I’m directing; I have to stop and invert it, frame it as process — figure out how to elicit what I think is needed in an open-ended, collaborative way, rather than asking for a result from an actor.
I think as an actor I work more instinctively in a Method-oriented way, which for some reason I have to remind myself of when I’m directing.

Noémi Schlosser came all the way to Chicago to get a date. A Belgium native, Schlosser graduated from the Antwerp Drama school of Belgium before founding the “fixed-fluid” collective, Salomee Speelt in 2004. Since then, Schlosser has worked in both traditional and experimental theater and her collective has performed all over the world. But never mind that. Let’s get back to dating. Her show, "DATE ME!" offers an absurd but heartfelt look at the trials and tribulations of just that. Schlosser spoke with Our Town about writing, internet dating and her unusual relationship to Occupy Wall Street.

Our Town You’re hot. Can you really not get a date?
Noémi Schlosser First, thank you, [but] a good date, is hard to find. I’ve been single for more than three years. Some blame it on me traveling so much for my work, but now I’m going to be in Chicago for a year, so my dating status will hopefully change. The winters are terrible here, so I hope to find someone who will keep me warm, anyone?

OT What was the inspiration behind "DATE ME?"
NS In Belgium, where I am from, boys have forgotten how to behave as gentlemen; the whole courting thing got lost. The women have no other option than to become the hunters, as the men are very self absorbed. In our society men tend to be afraid of women who own their own homes, have high-income jobs and are self-sufficient. We kind of don’t need them anymore, but our little hearts miss being loved. To write the show, I dated sixty men in one month, all through an internet dating site (still taboo in Belgium, meeting people online) but 99% of the dates were boring as hell. Or not boring because they were with a crazy guy, a shoe fetishist or someone who had a five year plan as if I was going to marry him after this date.

OT What compelled you to found Salomee Speelt?
NS I just wanted to create my own stuff and strangely enough I had amazing people willing to jump with me, and even more surprising I got grants from cities, governments and private people to do so. By now my company has become such a part of my life, or even more it is my life.

OT You perform in both experimental and traditional shows. Which do you prefer?
NS It depends; with every show you start from scratch. I like to work with mixed media, because the musicians, people who build installations, moviemakers or the guys who come from a graphic background have all have different way to tell a story. When people find a way to build a show together, when we find that common language to tell what we want to share with an audience, that for me is very rewarding.

OT Are you braver as a writer or an actor?
NS I don’t know, I just want to tell things that I think are important. I think most of all I am brave as a young, female, producer. That [requires] guts and that's what I find hardest.

OT You joined Occupy Wall Street to ask for a date. What was that experience like?
NS Occupy Wall Street was just asking for us to come and ask for a date! But Occupy Wall Street was not on Wall Street so when I was preparing for my mini "DATE ME!" flashmob, I couldn't find it! Once we were there people really enjoyed us, we talked, danced, and hung out with the locals. Let's be real here, a democracy does mean a date for everyone, right?

OT Why bring "DATE ME!" to Chicago?
NS Chicago is the city of comedy, so DATE ME!" was meant to come here.

OT What are you looking forward to doing while you’re here?
NS I hope to work with local theater companies, hopefully teach, give some workshops, get a few gigs, write my new one-woman show, find an agent, do some TV, you know be the girl with the accent.

"DATE ME" opens November 11th at Theater Wit.

A writer with an MFA in Creative Writing from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Sarah Terez Rosenblum freelances for a number of web sites and print publications. Her debut novel, “Herself When She’s Missing," is forthcoming from Soft Skull, an imprint of Counterpoint Press. She is also a figure model, Spinning instructor and teacher at Chicago’s StoryStudio. Inevitably one day she will find herself lecturing naked on a spinning bike. She's kind of looking forward to it actually.
IMPORTANT: the official Our Town site doesn't support comments. Join in the conversation by following facebook.com/OurTownBlog.ChicagoSunTimes and Sarah on Twitter: @SarahTerez

Photo by Cylla von Tiedemann

Princess Leia’s impact on my childhood was minimal and mostly to do with her hair. I admired it, but only because I liked braids in general, though I preferred the way Pippi Longstocking wore hers: a horizontal braid arrow that seemed to pierce her head. I can’t tell you how many wire coat hangers I unraveled and stabbed through my braids, trying to force my hair to defy gravity too. It was a point of contention between my mother and me, so much so that I assumed her little lapel button with the crossed out hanger on it was a warning directed at me.

My true Carrie Fisher awakening came by virtue of her book, Postcards from the Edge, a witty, blunt, lightly fictionalized account of her time in rehab. Perusing my quote book, I assume I was about fourteen when I read Postcards—the thicket of Fisher’s quotes I chose to record are smack between excerpts from Woody Allen and Sylvia Plath, the infamous dynamic duo of teenage angst and hilarity. Fisher’s novel is chockablock with lines like “I narrate a life I’m reluctant to live,” and “describing herself was her way of being herself;” I related so much I thought my head might fall off. From there, I sucked down each book she published, spitting her insightful one-liners into a series of notebooks I kept through college. (Philosophy professors and lesbian folk singers replaced Plath, but Allen stuck around.)

In 2007, I returned to The Geffen Playhouse where I’d worked for a year in ticket sales, to see Wishful Drinking, Fisher’s one-woman show. The Geffen is a magical dollhouse of a theatre; intimate, with a lobby that spills into a courtyard lit by twinkling lights. Working there was my first taste of what it meant to live in L.A. Sure I’d spent my shifts crammed into a tiny cubbyhole shared with a rotating bunch of oddballs (the Englishwoman who microwaved fish stew, a retired astrophysicist, some set builder guy who’s claim to fame was that Tori Spelling had given him not one but two lollipops on his last job), but I got to attend glittery red carpet premieres and once ran into Steve Martin walking the halls. (I’m pretty sure the Steve Martin thing happened, but I’ve told the story so many times, it feels more fairy-tale than truth.)

Seeing Fisher at the Geffen seemed like some kind of synchronicity, a childhood idol had chosen to grace a space through which I used to wander barefoot still sporting my college lesbian overalls. The show itself though, then in its infancy, was uneven. While imbued with Fisher’s characteristic amalgamation of candor and whimsy, it meandered. It was lovely just to spend time with Fisher—and the show truly does feel like an impromptu get-together—however, Wishful Drinking’s only through-line seemed Fisher herself. At the time, this bothered me.

This week Fisher kicked off Wishful Drinking’s limited two-week Chicago engagement. Since working out the kinks in LA, she’s taken the show across the US, playing to enthusiastic crowds and even receiving a Grammy nomination for the show’s album. Myself, I approached Wishful Drinking with trepidation, (possibly a byproduct of the hot pink tights I chose to wear). Hours lost in a room with an idol can be treacherous, dragging or accelerating at will. This time, I wanted to leave the theatre feeling as connected to Fisher as I had at fourteen, transferring her words from her book to mine.

Photo by Brian McConkey

A few months back I blogged about The Landmark Project, an inspired but uneven ode to Chicago comprised of twelve short plays. Though I’m not wildly enthusiastic about watching pre-teens riff on The Wizard of Oz, my patience paid off when Victoria Blade hit the stage. In Laura Jacqmin’s quirky “Logan and Milwaukee,” Blade showed off both her singing voice and comedic timing, and everyone from Hedy Weiss to my mother agreed she stole the show. Opening tonight in Slingshot Productions Low, Blade delighted my mother by making time to speak with Our Town. (No word yet on how Hedy feels.)

Our Town You studied theatre at Western Michigan. Do you think a degree is necessary?
Victoria Blade I loved college, but, no, I don't think a degree is absolutely necessary. What is most imperative for getting work as an actor is focus and work ethic. But for me, college was exactly what I needed at the time. College provided the freedom to focus solely on developing my artistic skills. It gave me time to be young. I had amazing professors that encouraged and believed in me. Starting out in this career, you don't get a ton of artistic liberty. It's more about learning business and marketing skills, so I'm glad for my time at Western when all I had to think about was the art.

OT Looks like you’ve been working consistently since moving to Chicago in 2010. What’s the Chicago acting scene like for a newcomer?
VB I didn't know what to expect coming here. I just put my head down and started researching and auditioning all the time. Slowly, things began to unfold. I have now been here a year and I have met so many wonderful people. I am truly overwhelmed by the warm welcome I received from the Chicago theatre scene.

OT In The Landmark Project you got the chance to do a lot of singing. What’s your voice background?
VB My Dad loves to play this cassette tape recording of me singing "Jesus Loves Me" when I was two years old. I keep forgetting the words but I refuse to let him help me sing the song. I think that tape still pretty much sums it up. I come from a big family of musicians so it's in our genes I guess.

OT Hedy Weiss specifically mentioned your performance. What was that like for you?
VB That was a total surprise. I went into this project thinking, "This will be fun." I didn't even know there were going to be reviews. So to be mentioned by these major Chicago theatre critics was incredibly exciting.

OT How do you tackle a given role?
VB I don't really have a set method for approaching a role. Some roles require more work than others, depending on how much I relate or don't relate to the character. When a role is particularly difficult, I do a lot of journaling. Writing really helps me. Or approaching a role physically; that is, beginning with the physical life of the character. I'm starting to realize that what works best for me is to just stick with my instincts.

Photo by Amy Boyle

My coworker gave me a lacy bra…. because I had cancer.
I love boots…. but then I got raped.
I wore this sweet maternity dress when I was pregnant with my son…who died at eighteen months.

There. I just saved you seventy bucks and ninety minutes. Go buy an Eileen Fisher sweater and take a yoga class. Or grab your bestie and get facials, or just binge on Entenmann's and clean your closet; anything that reminds you of your ovaries. Bonus points if it makes you feel bonded and nostalgic too.

Because that’s what Nora and Delia Ephron’s Love Loss and What I Wore wants: to grant a women of a certain age and means the opportunity to nod wryly and swear that, even with all her problems, you know, like those spats with her sisters, the difficulty finding a pair of heels that doesn’t pinch, she’s still got grandkids and lots of swoopy scarves, so gosh darn it, she’s doing just fine!

Based on the 1995 book by Ilene Beckerman, LLAWIW began as part of a summer series in East Hampton NY. (Of course it did.) Since its inception, it has been produced internationally and often with a star-studded cast. To be fair, the low-tech show has plenty of laugh out loud lines and offers the sort of offbeat moments distinctive to the Ephrons. Set up Vagina Monologue style-- women, music stands, a bunch of somewhat interchangeable characters—LLAWIW uses Gingie (Barbara Robertson) as a focal point, interweaving hundreds of other women’s stories as well. Though many monologues grow mawkish, due in large part to the “now I’m going to tell you something sad voice” nearly all of the cast members employ, several are saved by the quintessential Ephron ability to counter the listener’s assumptions, leaving them somewhere fresh and new. Hard to come by in a show rife with dated references and passé slang. Set in its midst, young actors Roni Geva and Katie O’Brien, strain credulity. In a saccharine gay wedding scene that hijacks the show’s already flabby middle, Geva maintains stellar timing, but O’Brien fares poorly as the least believable tuxedo-sporting lesbian in history.

Photo by Jeremy Rill

What could be better than a Sondheim show? How about a Sondheim show set in Chicago? Though purists may balk, Porchlight Music Theatre kicks off their seventeenth season with a Chicago-centric version of the Sondheim classic, Putting it Together. Our Town spoke with the show’s director, longtime choreographer Brenda Didier about Porchlight’s unique choice and more.

Our Town So, why set the show in Chicago?
Brenda Didier To make it accessible, put a fresh and unique perspective on [it]. Our Theatre Wit playing space has a wonderful exposed brick wall that our set designer, John Zuiker, used to our advantage, [setting the show] in a loft as opposed to a penthouse apartment. There are no gowns or tuxedos here; we are in a different world now than 1999 when the show was on Broadway with Carol Burnett.

OT What do you risk and/or gain by altering a well-known show?
BD When any director changes a show, some audience members may come in expecting the original version. I always like risks because you surprise people and usually the gains are much greater. I love it when an audience members tells me that they were moved and entertained most unexpectedly and that they experienced a familiar work in a whole new way and learned something about themselves in the process.

OT You’re a director and a choreographer, how do the two inform each other?
BD I’ve choreographed for years and just recently begun the transition into directing. Choreography tells the story through movement. As a director you find the peaks and valleys of a script, the stillness and movement to make the story move along. The two really go hand in hand.

OT What unique challenges does a Sondheim show present?
BD Sondheim shows are like no other. The lyrics and music are some of the most brilliant and complicated songs for any actor to sing- let alone do it with blocking and acting behind it. As I started this process, I came to realize that each of Sondheim's songs are a play- with a clear and defined beginning, middle and end.

OT What’s most compelling to you about the rehearsal process?
BD The rehearsal process is a joy for me because I come in with my ideas and vision, but it’s the collaboration between actors, musicians, designers that really inspires me. When you add the preview process, then the final piece of the collaboration puzzle is the audience. They quickly inform you of what is working and what is not and then you go back and re-visit sections and make adjustments.

For some Chicagoans September first doesn’t just mean an endless line of SUVs blocking the streets surrounding every elementary school in the city. It also means the eagerly anticipated Fringe Festival, now in its second year. Part of a movement that began in Edinburgh, Scotland, a Fringe Festival offers nontraditional performers and pieces a chance to showcase their work. For Kansas native turned Chicago actor Kate Healy, last year’s Fringe Fest provided an unusual impetus to place her work in this year’s show. Healy’s play, Let Me Count, is an emotional story told with facts. It’s about taking your own inventory; all that you’ve done, lost, and loved in the span of your life. As if that weren’t plenty, there will also be remote-controlled cars and Diet Coke.

Our Town Is it just me or is it impossible to get Diet Coke at Chicago restaurants?
Kate Healey It is impossible! I feel like I’m always going to corner stores and getting a can. I don’t know why Diet Coke is better; I started drinking it and couldn’t go back.

OT Down to business. Was acting always a goal?
KH In high school being onstage was the most electrifying thing I could experience, but somehow I figured that wasn’t what I would do with my life, probably because it scared me. Halfway through college, I ushered a show, and I knew exactly what all the actors were doing back there, the feeling, the pacing, the preparation, and the simple but complicated waiting, I missed it so much. I started trying out, and from my first audition I was hooked. It was a beautiful dare.

OT Did you experience culture shock moving from Kansas to Chicago?
KH My bike was stolen the first day I got here, but I really love the city.

OT You wrote Let Me Count spurred by an imperfect Fringe Fest piece you saw last year. What is it about bad theatre that can be so motivating?
KH I saw some incredible pieces at the Fringe last year, but this particular piece was really…self-indulgent and patronizing at the same time. I figured, if she can do that, I can definitely do that, but better, and with some purpose.

OT Your show deals with taking inventory. What compels you to break life down into lists and numbers?
KH Lists are definitely part of my life, always writing to-do lists because I’m so afraid of forgetting. Numbers, not so much, but I wanted to look at a life objectively, we all have explanations for why we do what we do, but if you could actually remember how many times you walked silently by a homeless man, how would you feel? I think numbers can provide a lot of perspective in a short amount of time, it can be jarring or comforting, and I wanted my audience to take that ride with me, and ask their own questions, pick up where I left off.

OT Artists sometimes romanticize numbers thinking they can relay concepts words can’t. Can numbers really carry a show?
KH I hope so, I think it’s a different, inescapable way of looking at things. I also think it’s what you invest in those numbers, how they strike you and if you choose to let them lead you or not. The numbers don’t care, but we do.

OT You say the Chicago theatre scene turned you into a feminist. Why?
KH I’ve had to look at myself and understand that I have the skills and the guts of a theatre artist, but that a lot of people see just a model, or a recent college grad still mooching off her parents, but that’s not what I am. I love being a girl, I love being a woman, I love being feminine, but I feel like I have to have more strategy, energy, and knowledge to make who I am work for me. I don’t resent it, but it’s certainly a change.

Photo by Anya Garrett (From left, Guilia Rozzi & Margot Leitman)

As a creative writing teacher, I’ve noticed some of my students self-censure their work into nonexistence, an approach I discourage. I tell them, only once you’ve unselfconsciously unloaded your thoughts onto the page should you call in your mental editor. I’m on the other end of the spectrum. A former teacher once advised me to “write everything. What else are you saving it for?” Insightful advice which I happily take, pajama-clad and typing in my dining room with only the dog as my witness. However, when my work finds a home online or in print I’m inevitably caught off guard. My uncensored words now public fodder, I’m suddenly accountable for something it seems like someone else wrote.

Back in college I wrote and directed a show called “Girl On Girl Action: An Evening of Theoretical Theory” which is the single stupidest name anything has ever had EVER. In fact, I just had to google it to make sure that was really what I called it. Theoretical Theory? How about Redundant Redundancy? What can I say; I was a women’s studies major…who apparently couldn’t speak English. So, I wrote this show, and performed it and later was recognized by a Big Lesbian On Campus who asked me to take part in this super sexual play she had created. And I sort of blushed and stammered and said I wasn’t sure I was comfortable. Her response? “Oh, c’mon. I saw your show. I know what you’re like.”

But she didn’t. She knew what I wrote, not who I am. I don’t think of my writing as particularly sexual, but then I don’t think of myself as bipedal or American either, still all that I am informs my writing, whether I notice or not. Writing about sexuality isn’t the only way to make oneself vulnerable, of course, however writer/performers willing to make public sexual musings seem brazen and brave.

This week Our Town is highlighting two different live readings: Stripped Stories, an East Coast phenomenon, and The Sunday Night Sex Show, conceived right here in Chicago. Stripped Stories, a hit NYC sex-themed monthly storytelling show has been playing to sold-out audiences since 2007. Guests have included award winning comedians as well as regular folks who have never set foot in front of an audience.

When I spoke with SS hosts Giulia Rozzi and Margot Leitman, I was curious to know how they handle the emotional ramifications of putting personal work onstage. For Rozzi there’s little conflict. “I'm an extremely open person,” she says. “On and off stage. If anything, I find it cathartic to spill my guts in front of people.” Leitman seemed slightly more cautious saying, “I will never perform something I am still broken up about or in the middle of; I don't use the stage as therapy. I would never subject an audience to some story I just "really need to get off my chest." I only work with material where there is humor in the pain because [of] distance.”

Long before storytelling events bloomed like dandelions across the US, Chicago’s Fillet of Solo Festival was on the scene. Now in its fifteenth year, the festival is, according to Lifeline Theatre artistic director Dorothy Milne “a treasure trove of talent.” This year’s three-week event, running July 21st through August 7th features performers like Jenny Allen, Jimmy Doyle, Julie Ganey and even New York artist James Braly. Our Town spoke with Milne about her work on Fillet of Sole as well as her own storytelling group, The Sweat Girls.

Our Town How has FOS changed over time?
Dorothy Milne It started small and got really big. Live Bait was running the thing all summer in two spaces with twenty-four participating storytellers by the time it closed in 2008. Sharon [Evans, Live Bait's Artistic Director] wanted the Festival to continue and approached me with the idea that Lifeline take over production. As a long-time fan of the festival and a regular storyteller there with my solo collective, Sweat Girls, and with Lifeline being a new work theater, as Live Bait had been, it seemed a perfect fit. After a year of hiatus, Live Bait and Lifeline Theatre co-produced the 2010 Festival and, with that experiment a success, Lifeline has taken over production of the Festival, while Sharon remains a guiding artistic force in the event.

OT To what do you attribute its longevity?
DM If you put together a great storytelling festival, it's only going to grow. The start-up may be challenging -- it's hard to describe to newbies what they're going to see. Just yesterday I heard someone in our box office reading a description of a show to someone, and the caller was like "But it sounds like you're describing the performer rather than their character.” And the box office staffer was explaining that the performer IS the character. This idea often baffles the uninitiated. But anyone who comes to see a good storyteller becomes an immediate convert. They not only return, they bring friends. It's a form you want to share with other people.

OT What goes into coordinating the fest?
DM Sharon and I read dozens of submissions and took several weeks to decide on the eleven shows in the Fest. It’s important to us to bring in established artists who already have a following and to provide opportunities for debut performances by as-yet-unknown artists who excite us. There are twenty-four participating artists; some of the one-hour shows have one performer in them and others have multiple performers, each doing a short piece. And this year, the Fest features four artists with national exposure as well. The logistics are a lot to juggle. And we're producing the Fest in two spaces, so our staff is running back and forth between the venues for these shows that are starting at the same time!

OT You’re a director and a performer. How does each inform the other?
DM Starting as an actor helps me in how I communicate with actors. I speak their language, as much as anyone can speak anyone's language. Figuring out best communication with other humans is a life-long struggle. As far as the reverse, the most important thing is to take the director hat OFF when acting. There's a joke about it being a mistake to cast actors who also direct.

Early this morning I dreamed I was having an affair with my girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend (You get all that?). I awoke askance, before falling back to sleep and dreaming I was having an affair with my sister’s boyfriend. This time, I woke up tangled in sheets and hanging precariously from the side of the bed. I bring this up for two reasons. 1) When something incredibly embarrassing happens, I feel it best to tell as many people as possible. 2) Waking up suspended in sheets is the closest I hope to come to aerial ballet.

Not so for former gymnast and current Aerial Dance Chicago artistic director Chloe Jensen. Though I know nothing about Jensen’s subconscious, talking with her, it’s clear air-borne dance is her natural calling. In addition to teaching classes, Jensen choreographed Unearth, an aerial dance meant to depict the beauty and fragility of life, and the role we play as citizens of the planet. Performed through July 23 at the Ruth Page Center for the Arts, the environmentally friendly show promises a sweeping score and awe-inspiring choreography. No inter-family affairs though, as far as I know.

Our Town How does choreographing aerial dances differ from choreographing one that takes place on the ground?
Chloe Jensen The possibilities are what make it exciting. You have to think in three-dimensional space and consider things such as height, pendulum, different relationships with gravity, weight shifting and using your entire body, including your upper body to a greater degree. You can turn, leap and jump, but you can also spin, swing and fly! You can move upward along what we call our "vertical dance floor" or you can experiment with a whole new relationship with gravity, for instance with a bungee, your weight becomes closer to what it is like to move through water than it is like when you dance on the ground.

OT What’s your process like, from inspiration to final product?
CJ My process utilizes experimentation right up until the final product is set. I like to start with a few ideas and set those on the dancers and then use their energy and emotions to help drive the substance of the piece.

OT Your dancers seem more muscular than ballet skinny. Is this something you consciously chose when casting?
CJ In Aerial Dance, we don't feel restricted by the standards that might exist within the innermost circles of ballet, we are reaching outside the traditional boundaries of the art of dance, and in doing so, I think we are able to let go of some of the ideals that damage the body image. You can't be too scrawny doing this type of work because it requires great athleticism and whole-body strength and control.

My journalistic credo is borrowed from the theater world: don’t steal focus. As an interviewer, I’m a supporting player, my subject, the star. To this end, I strip questions to the bone, cut most personal asides, and shy away from quoting those capricious compliments the average interviewee pays.

Enter artist Tony Fitzpatrick; generous, insightful and endearingly loquacious—not your average interviewee.

I worry that including my end of our discussion appears self-indulgent. However, in the interest of accurately rendering Tony, I’ve put my usual reticence aside. As personable as he is talented, Tony has plenty to say about his politics, his travels, his inspirations, but he’s also genuinely curious about others. To interview Tony is to step into an ongoing conversation, one he carries on through his visual art, poetry and acting; one he has with neighbors and hobos and strangers who quickly become friends. Here's my contribution.

Our Town What inspired your new play, Stations Lost?
Tony Fitzpatrick I went to Istanbul to meet Muslims. I realized I didn’t know any. I had some a**hole at a dinner party tell me that the world wouldn’t be a peaceful place until we dealt with the Islamic problem. I said, “what do you mean by that,” and he said, “well, till we get rid of all the Muslims.” I said, “jihadists are like two percent, you understand that, right?” He goes, “name me one place in the world where Islamic people live in peace.” I said, “Istanbul, since 1927.” So, then he slides his glasses down his nose and he goes “have you beeeeen to Istanbul?” I said “no, but I’ll tell you what, the next time we speak I will have been.” And I went. And I’ll tell you, I found more brotherhood and kindness and generosity among a culture of Muslims than I did driving across America. So much for who we fear.

OT This is your second show with Ann Filmer. To what do you attribute the success of your collaborations?
TF Her laser sharp ability to adapt. We carved away a lot of great pieces and went down to the most muscular ones. Just as with [first collaboration]This Train, she very gently told me where the lines were, let me know what was germane, helped prune what didn’t belong and shape it into a really dynamic piece. Were it up to me she would have taken a co-writing credit for Stations Lost, but she said, “every word is yours.” I showed her my diaries and told her, I think there’s a show in here about fear and faith and the folly of wanting faith. I worked in radio for ten years. When I hear O’Reilly and Limbaugh, these are the guys who chased me out of radio. They’re the reason I didn’t want to work there anymore; it became this culture of hate. They wrap it up in fear and they kite tail it with faith, like if you’re a Christian you believe this or that; well, thank God I’m an atheist. So, the show is about the aural wallpaper that surrounds us as Americans and how they attempted to teach me faith as a kid. Now look, this all sounds really heavy, but it’s really funny. You’ve seen my shows; I’m a funny motherf**ker. So what’s going on with you?

OT Me? I have a book coming out next spring.
TF It’s about time, goddamnit.

OT I don’t know what to expect-
TF Expect to spend no small amount of time promoting it and let me know what I can do to help.

OT That’s really generous, but you don’t have to do that.
TF I’d like to. You want to do a book signing at the gallery? My gallery is a cool place; people come there.

OT Tell me a little about your gallery.
TF Firecat? It was my studio for seventeen years and I closed it as a studio and turned it into a gallery where we show artists who I think deserve to be better known. You know, Stan [Klein] and me made a list of artists, and everyone on the list it was like, why aren’t these men and women a bigger part of the conversation? I said to Stan, “what could we afford to lose between us,” and he said, “comfortably, maybe $3000 a month.” We figured that was enough to budget the gallery. We take no percentage of the artists’ sales. We print a poster, do a mailing and invite all our collectors. Our friends from 3Floyds supply the beer, and then we usually throw a little after-party at my house.

Brian Posen

Whether you want to donate money to people raring to strip to their nipple tassels or attend a fantastic fourteen-day theatrical festival, this blog has something for you. If like me, you are suffering from seasonal allergies and want to tear out your eyes and flay yourself, I suggest an oatmeal bath. It won’t actually help much, but you’ll become distracted trying to understand why sitting in a bathtub full of breakfast cereal is supposed to soothe your skin.

First the festival: Stage773 Artistic Director Brian Posen, a twenty-year veteran of the Chicago theater scene has created 14@Stage773, a two-week celebration of performing arts. Not only does the event feature vaudeville, solo performance, visual arts, children's theater, music, film and comedy, but it also kicks off renovations on the Stage 773 space.

In curating the event, Posen was particularly concerned with providing a performance opportunity for acts that might not often have the opportunity to perform in venues like Stage 773. Says Posen, “we are providing the space for free. We believe in the community and are a strong part of it, so ticket prices reflect that. They are stupidly low and Chicago loves that.”

With only a few days of the festival remaining, Posen is excited about the closing night Graffiti Party, a “lively night of performance and visual arts. We want the neighborhood to come and say good-bye to the old space and help us welcome the new and improved building.”

As for what to expect of Stage 773’s new incarnation, Posen says the theater will “no longer be a place where you come and see a show and leave. We are striving to create a thriving, vibrant artistic home for all of the Chicago arts community. It's going to be home for so many different theater companies and artistic events. [And with] four spaces, two of those turning around shows every two hours, [the space] will be alive!”

Excuse me for a moment; I’ve got to chew off the skin on my upper arm.

But what of the naked burlesquers you ask? Saturday August 20th, queer burlesque troupe Ties and Tassels presents Queerpocalypsee hosted by Chicago comedienne Cameron Esposito. For over a year the troupe has held monthly drag/burlesque variety shows in order to raise money for the event which will take place at The Abbey Pub. However, they’ve not quite hit their goal and in order to make Queerpocalypsee a night to remember, they’re looking for Kickstarter supporters.

If you feel like helping but want some entertainment out of the deal, you can also attend Ties and Tassels’ July 16th performance at Lizard's Liquid Lounge, funds from which benefit Queerpocalypsee.

I’d write more but Lady Gaga is petting a goat in my living room. Either that or the Benadryl I took is making me hallucinate.

A writer with an MFA in Creative Writing from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Sarah Terez Rosenblum freelances for a number of web sites and print publications. Her debut novel, “Herself When She’s Missing," is forthcoming from Counter Point Press. She is also a figure model, Spinning instructor and teacher at Chicago’s StoryStudio. Inevitably one day she will find herself lecturing naked on a spinning bike. She's kind of looking forward to it actually.
IMPORTANT: the official Our Town site doesn't support comments. Join in the conversation by followingOur Town on Facebook and Sarah on Twitter: @SarahTerez

The New Colony Artistic Director, Andrew Hobgood thinks lesbians are funny. And nuclear holocaust. And quiche. But then, who doesn’t, really? Originally a seven-minute sketch which stole the show at Collaboraction’s 2010 Sketchbook, Five Lesbians Eating A Quiche tells the story of The Susan B Anthony Society for the Sisters of Gertrude Stein, who, when catastrophe strikes, find themselves responsible for America’s future. Due to audience demand, the show is back, and more absurd than ever.

Our Town Describe the show.
Andrew Hobgood Whenever we're asked, "What's it about?" it's always fun to deadpan back, "five lesbians eating a quiche." But the show is really a dark absurdist comedy exploring America's obsessive over-active imagination which has fueled both the greatest achievements of the country and our greatest embarrassments. It tackles our sense of adventure, our fears, our idealism and our country's relationship with devout belief in a religious body. However, we take it one step further. To make the audience understand that they are just as much a part of the American persona, we have created a fully realized environmental experience. The audience walks in and is immediately treated like they are one of the fellow sisters of the society, all women in 1956.

OT What originally inspired the piece?
AH A couple years ago, during a New Colony party, Sarah Gitenstein, who is directing this show, jokingly gave me a pen and a notebook and told me to write down the title of a show The New Colony would produce someday. And as any well-intoxicated Artistic Director would, I wrote the first thing that popped in my head and found myself committing to it before I'd processed the absurdity.

OT Why remount it?
AH To develop our shows, [we ask] the actors to create their characters well beyond the needs of the script. The more that they have in their heads; the more realized the show is. The Sketchbook version could only be seven minutes; however, the cast developed enough material for a twenty-five minute show. Then reviewers and audience members started asking when we were going to do the full-length production, and then it won the Audience Favorite award at Sketchbook. This is the first New Colony show ever produced due to audience demand.

OT What went into developing it into a full-length show?
AH All the creative team members and cast [went] back into their notebooks and pulled material we’d cut from the seven minute version. The show became about specifically these five women, and what happens to them after they realize that America has been nuked.

OT How does FLEQ jibe with New Colony’s artistic mission?
AH The most valued part of our mission is the goal of attracting and educating a new arts-supporting audience. When theater is competing against film and television, we try to seek out the experiences that are impossible to recreate on film. So this show's fully realized environmental approach, performed in real-time, integrates the audience into the piece. Even though it takes place in the 50's, we work to align the vernaculars, thoughts and feelings of that period and our current times to make it emotionally and intellectually accessible. We want audiences to look at a lesbian in 1956 and say, "I totally know her!”

OT What’s it like to work both as a business consultant and in the theater?
AH Art needs structure to succeed. Business needs creativity to succeed. And both tend to believe they don't need the other. That's [how] my consulting career was born. I solve theater problems with my business expertise and I broaden businesses' imaginations to help them launch to the next level. Really, all artists are entrepreneurs. Most don't think of themselves that way. But that's the truth. You're your own boss. You handle your own marketing. You handle your own money. You handle your own sales. I wish theater departments in colleges would inspire a love of business in their students. They are doing a huge disservice by not making entrepreneurial passion, strategy, and business management a key take-away for any theater graduate. Hopefully I'll get to see that happen. And hot damn I'd love for TNC and me to be a part of that change.

Five Lesbians Eating a Quiche runs June 23rd through July 30th. Go here to purchase tickets.

A writer with an MFA in Creative Writing from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, Sarah Terez Rosenblum freelances for a number of web sites and print publications. Her debut novel, “Herself When She’s Missing," is forthcoming from Counter Point Press. She is also a figure model, Spinning instructor and teacher at Chicago’s StoryStudio. Inevitably one day she will find herself lecturing naked on a spinning bike. She's kind of looking forward to it actually.
IMPORTANT: the official Our Town site doesn't support comments. Join in the conversation by followingOur Town on Facebook and Sarah on Twitter: @SarahTerez

Look out Chicago. Starting June 12th Links Hall presents a week celebrating improvisational dance. Curated by Columbia College instructor, dancer/choreographer Lisa Gonzales, the festival will feature performances, workshops, jams, and discussions with internationally acclaimed dancers. With artists including The Architects at The Dance Center, Nancy Stark Smith, Bebe Miller and more set to perform, the event will certainly make a splash on the Chicago dance scene.

Our Town So often artists wind up teachers. Is this a sensible overlap?
Lisa Gonzales So much of art-making in dance happens for an insular audience. While the making of art is of vital importance no matter the audience, teaching allows artists to make a difference in the larger world. Serious practice in an art form such as dance develops the entire person, not just the artist person. As a teacher, I feel very honored to be able to have that kind of impact in a person’s life.

OT How do your art and your teaching inform each other?
LG Sometimes they feel quite separate. But as an artist, everything I do finds its way into my art-making because life and art feel fluid. Of course, I teach components of what I use myself when making work—processes of perceiving, making movement, composing, proposing questions and answers through the body—things I find useful to consider when making work. My primary goal as a teacher, however, is to nurture a student’s own creative voice rather than impose mine.

OT What drew you to work with puppets?
LG I happened into the avant-garde puppet scene in New York through a dance collaborator’s husband who worked in puppetry and had the great fortune of being asked to puppeteer. They are not afraid of story, meaning or emotion. They also value turning meaning upside down, inside out and reconfiguring it in a new way. They work with many of the same tenets as we do in post-modern and avant-garde dance, but primarily through the visual realm to get to the physical/visceral experience. The puppeteer isn’t the primary conveyor of information; the puppet or object is, so the experience is once removed from the performer.

OT What’s the hardest part of working as a puppeteer?
LG As a dancer I am used to making myself the primary component of expression, so learning to disappear the self while animating the object/puppet takes some work

OT Take us through the process of choreographing a dance.
LG For me first comes the desire or impulse. Then I need to get into the studio (if the desire hasn’t come from being in the studio already) to begin physical research. This helps me to integrate into the body ideas that have emerged through reading, writing, or experience. I may improvise and use video to capture movement that I will then relearn and compose into a larger form.

OT How does improvisational dance differ?
LG People assume improvisation is about doing whatever one wants, [but] improvisation [requires] rigor, intelligence and serious preparation through committed practice. [Everything] must happen in the moment. It may go something like this—oh, I made that movement, then I will try to connect that with the section that came five minutes before. Oh, and this meaning is emerging. I like that, so I will compose with these elements with this meaning in mind.