On Our Own

Missed Monday rehearsal and found out today our musical improv team set tonight was going to be a golden age musical about a pop culture event. NBD.

I felt nervous, which is unlike me pre-improv set. There's just a lot to juggle when creating a specific style musical on the spot. And what if I didn't know anything about the pop culture reference? I couldn't do it on my own.

Our suggestion of a pop culture event was "Dumbledore is gay." I made the first move--I set our ensemble as kids reading the 7th book at an opening night party. One of them questioned, "Is Dumbledore gay?" Soon Cashew was gay Dumbledore even singing, "Accio spotlight." We became Slytherin snakes, talking portraits, and quidditch stars. There was a Hagrid dream sequence, and all of these moves were made bit by bit, evenly, from all ten of us. By the end (a finale ensemble number in which Dumbledore announces "I'm gay/ I was sorted that way") we had a great little piece of theatre that will never be seen again. And guess what? I didn't have to do it on my own. I couldn't have. If I would have tried, I would have failed. Them's the facts.

Rejection: Part V (Via The Avett Brothers)

"If you're loved, then you're never rejected."

Rejection: Part IV

For our last class of Level Five of The Program, our teacher (Rachel Mason, improv goddess) opened a Q & A. Background: She has a fabulous reputation in Chicago theatre. That said, she auditioned for SNL four times, Mad TV five times, and was never on a mainstage cast at SC.  I asked, "How do you deal with rejection?"

She gave a big sigh. Then: "I've gotten to the point I never feel rejected. They just found somebody else. At the end of the day, if you don't get an audition, you didn't lose anything you didn't already have."

And the math is forgettable, but it's so true. Failure feels like a loss, but no one actually takes anything from you. The only thing you no longer have are your expectations of success, which are often wrong anyway.

RM seems like a genuinely happy and useful person. The best type to be. So, she seems to have come out on top, eh?

My cohort. Our last night in the disgusting classroom with no windows.

Rejection: Part III

If you keep putting yourself out there--in every aspect of life--you eventually fail into your place. It sounds like a terrible game plan, but it's pretty effective. Sometimes process of elimination is really your best bet. It's not like you've got the entire universe to eliminate. You wade from pool to pool until you eliminate square feet of a discipline. The truth is, you don't want to be invited to every club--however would you know which was best suited for you? You want to be rejected into your very best place. It's so easy for us to decide where we're supposed to be. Truthfully, we rarely actually know what being there will be like. Instead of focusing intently on an arbitrary and unknown goal, why not just be, and see if you keep being closer to that Thing or farther from it?

Love hard and honestly, speak your mind, try for anything you may want to do.

Rejection: Part II (The Upstairs Concierge by Kristoffer Diaz)

A couple weeks ago Bisque and I went to The Goodman for a Sunday night date. The Upstairs Concierge by Kristoffer Diaz. It was a comedy, and about thirty minutes in neither of us had laughed once. More than that, I was bored, borderline offended someone thought this extremely cliche set-up ("We're in a new hotel where there are no locks on the doors, and everyone is highly sexualized!") would be entertaining to me. I was so shocked by how bad the play was that I legitimately awaited a humongous "JUST KIDDING"--like all the characters suddenly became zombies, or it was a bad play within a play. But no. It was just a very under-developed in terms of character, super over-developed in terms of cheesy punchlines, and over-zealous physical comedy for physical comedy's sake plot garbage pot pie. We actually considered walking out. "Are we nuts?" Nope. We weren't. The next day the reviews came. And woof.

The lead of the show is an extremely talented woman who I have seen perform at SC numerous times. With few exceptions, everyone on stage was fun. The playwright has been previously nominated for a Pulitzer. The ensemble developed this show over the course of three years. Then, it was put up at the biggest commercial theatre in Chicago. Flop City. How did this happen? How could people not see?

I so respect Diaz's motives. He wanted a big farce because regional theatre doesn't have any modern pieces to do. Everyone's still Noises Off! forever and ever. He wanted to showcase minorities in big fat comic roles. Yes! I want that too. But, I want it to be good. I won't go into more detail because the critics already bashed the piece to smithereens. The point: maybe, and that's a big maybe, it was good for this piece to happen and fail big, but ultimately, it should have been rejected.

I'm not sure when The Goodman officially slotted the play, and I'm not sure when something can be pulled, so maybe by the time it was definitely bad it was too late. But, a rejection would have been a blessing. And wouldn't we rather that? Be sifted into the spaces we will shine in rather than never be rejected and spoil like cabbage in public?

Another good thing: I will see Kristoffer Diaz's next show. I get it. Sometimes work doesn't work. I still believe in him. If I can see this, perhaps those who have seen me fail can too.

Rejection: Part I

I had three big rejections in a row a few days ago. I've written previously about how important getting used to rejection is, but sometimes when they come in vicious waves, there's not much else to do but go grocery shopping alone, but a large bag of flamin' hot muchies, and watch Dance Moms.

The worst has passed, but I did quite a bit of soul searching over the span of three days. I dug deep into what rejection truly is and how to cope thanks to many talks with friends, blogs, spirituality articles, and even a lecture by Carl Sagan.  I will try to synthesize what I learned from my "study" in pieces here.

One cool thing is it's a really great self-exploration exercise to figure out what rejections have stung the most for you, and if there are any you actually still hold onto. I've learned a lot about even close friends by asking about what their memorable rejections have been. Rejections that wouldn't bug me, really hurt others and vice versa. For me, I've discovered a huge rejection, when warranted, dissipates in the breeze for me. On the other hand when someone rejects me from something I know I can do, I it's very hard for me be chill about it. EVEN when in hindsight the rejection worked out for my benefit or something, I am itched by someone misjudging my ability. I'm glad I figured out my rejection pattern because I think it will help me deal with it in the future. I am not one hundred percent sure about how to say, "C'est la vie," when I feel I have been incorrectly assessed. Yet. But now I know I need to know.

Feelings/ Fixings: I

My heart is broken for Eric Harrises. The Eric Harris who was accidentally murdered by a bumbling police volunteer and was yelled at and belitted as he died unarmed in a street. I googled his family to find out what they are saying, if they're okay. But all I came up with was the other Eric Harris--the Columbine one. And my heart breaks for him too.

People need so much love. We are endless love vacuums. I cannot possibly fathom what kind of life the Tulsa policeman with his big black swoop arm tatts has had to make him believe screaming at a dying man was okay. Police training needs a huge HUGE overhaul. Sensitivity training should be the most important thing they learn. The world needs an overhaul. Remembering those poor Littleton kids--how come they didn't feel love? What could have been different? Is it run of the mill high school bullying or is it a worm in our souls that can never be satiated until it is free?