CULTUREPHILE: PORTLAND ARTS

Fertile Ground One-Liners

Next week, Fertile Ground Festival will present more than 60 performance works. We asked playwrights, “What’s your favorite line?” and they hit us with their zestiest zingers.

For individual performance dates and times, visit the Fertile Ground Calendar .

Posted by: Anne Adams on Jan 12, 2012 at 07:00AM 2 Comments

In New York you can’t make a living with misery. You have to resort to obscenity instead.
A Live Dress by Martha Jane Kaufman

You come here every night, sing your heart out, get ‘em all worked up so they get drunk on cheap booze, smash each other with chairs and bottles, until they collapse in each other’s arms, all in a glorious belch of genuine intimacy. Sounds very fulfilling.
Manful! by John Servilio

Knock it off, Man! We sit around day after day in this stinking heat, swattin’ flies and talking sh—, then something finally happens, and you get bent outta shape.
Triptych Americana by Karen Alexander-Brow

Being a bit hard on The Mum today, are we?
Kookaburra by AJ Doherty

Young lady, even if I wanted to be bad, it wouldn’t do me any good. Not without twenty-four hours notice and a doctor’s appointment.
Dad, I Hardly Know You by Gary Corbin

I’m sorry, I, it was tougher than I thought it— Okay. Okay. I, I still need to pull his teeth though…
Red Hands by Matt Haynes

Once upon a time, giants ruled the world.
Splasher by Ellen Margolis

Their kidneys weren’t filtering blood; their lungs were shrinking; their brains degenerating— even their taste buds had atrophied, so naturally they volunteered. Nearly eight hundred people volunteered.
Gift of a Thousand Tongues by Fengar Gael

Do you know what it’s like to ache all over and not be able to keep food down for a week at a time, and to have your aunt compliment you on the weight you’ve lost? Do you know what it’s like to be seventeen years old and go through menopause?
A Pretty Girl with Cancerby Dave Chapman

Grief is a cruel master.
Scrooge and Marley Have Dinner in Hell by Dave Chapman

Our backs were straight and instead of lowering our heads, we closed our eyes to the scene of our humiliation.
Cafe Baghdad by Sacha Reich

I laid my head down on my desk and prayed to God that I would not be a broken man
Redneck Mormon Thespian by Cory Huff

We like it, you see? The terrifying beauty of this world. The Dictators, the burning churches, beautiful monarchs with missing fingers. We crave it. We’re insatiable.
(I Am Still) The Duchess of Malfi by Joseph Fisher

In conclusion, don’t forget to go to ‘changeboliviatobandivia.com’ and register your vote to give Antonio Banderas his own country—his birthday’s coming up and it would mean so much to him.
One Day, a musical by Kevin Muir

We wouldn’t plan immediately. Just hang out and let an opportunity slip into our lives.
Best Son by Paul Handley

The sex you had last night. The eggs you had this morning. The sound of my voice right now. At the moment of creation, all of those things existed as unrealized potential, lying in wait.
Dear Galileo by Claire Willett

Double, double, Willamette and bubble —
How to Talk to Little Girls by Tina Connolly

Just between you and me, I think you’d look quite dashing if you let me plant bananas and maybe some radishes on your neck.
Skin Garden by Jeremy Benjamin

I know that this might sound strange, but I always loved olives and he, never. No, did not, would not touch them, did not like them, would not eat them. And that’s how I knew, and that is how I knew.
Something’s Got a Hold of my Heart by Hand2Mouth

This might seem like a funny question to ask somebody in southern Missouri, but do you, by any chance, have access to firearms?
The North Plan by Jason Wells

I can yield to anything but temptation.
-Oscar Wilde, from Famished by Eugenia Woods

Goldilocks: Bitch is a noun and a verb and I got both covered with a rap sheet to prove it.
Alpha Bitch by Eugenia Woods

If we take him down to the jail and turn him in, what you think they’re gonna do? Just open the doors and let him go back to his cell? And if they do, how is hegonna get out? They killed his last hope. We don’t have money for the lawyer to try to find some loophole.
Asylum No More by Sandra de Helen

Perdóname, cabrón, pero no soy una criminal. (“Forgive me, a—hole, but I’m not a criminal.”)
B’aktun 13 by Dañel Malán

What happened to the Woobbie? Soupy? Toodles, Harry, Teddy, Sue, Snuggles? We lose the ball, we drop the ball for something bigger, better, manly, the video game, baseball bat, the gun, trying to be the man. The Wild Man.
Kingdowm by Nick Zagone

I’m no genius, but my short educational tenure has taught me that maybe there should be a long term commitment to ending poverty before you destroy the public education system.
A Noble Failure by Susan Mach

The force of this feeling is not static. No. It is a moving energy. A fluid force. A flow. It is like the blood coursing through your veins, the blood coursing through mine. Can you feel it?
Spellbinders by Brad Bolchunos

Folger snatches me up in his mighty jowls and suddenly I’m as weightless as an astronaut eating sponge cake on the moon.
Last American Gladiator Part 3 by Slash Coleman

How does an 11-year old ‘nurd’, living in the middle of nowhere, act out his 007 fantasy? I find the key to my neighbor’s house…sneak in while she’s at work, and eat a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream.
Teenage Commando by auGi

I like chocolate turtles with pecans. I don’t like babies much—they’re too small and you can’t eat them. Well, I guess some people might eat them… But that’s just plain sick.
Ruby Rocket, Private Detective, animated film short by Sam Niemann and Stacey Hallal

The penguin is the saddest of all God’s creatures: he cannot masturbate because his arms are too short.
David Saffert’s Birthday Bashstravaganza 2! Older & Wisier by David Saffert

Hundreds of miles of terrain, scrapes with death, mosquitos, eye gnats, thorns, near drownings, icy winter weather, starvation, endless rain, boiled elk fondue, difficult negotiations in which the peace of the nation hangs in the balance…how can you endure such things and still find yourself terrified by some lousy big footprints?
Sacagasasquatch by Brad Bolchunos

Oh heavens to Betsy! He don’t love you. He just wants to drive your truck!
Oil Change the Musical Comedy by Klay Rogers

In Portland, there are more sex clubs per capita than practically everywhere else in the nation and every year during the Rose Festival thousands of sailors get serviced here–the City looks the other way.
Stories: From Survivors of the Sex Trade by Ann Singer

Yeah, there’s no ‘purity of urine’ competition in the Miss America Pageant.
Graceland, Paraguay by Jason Rosenblatt

I always thought traveling by airplane was like padlocking a canary in a cage, throwing it out the window, and telling it to fly! Fly for your life!
Waxwing by Emily Gregory

Are you confusing sodomy with lobotomy? Again?
Satanic Organics by Jason Rosenblatt

If I was reading a novel, I’d have seen the foreshadowing; but this was my life, so I missed it.
City of Roses/City of Thorns by Eileen DuClos

For more about Portland arts, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!

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Tags: Theater, author, fertile ground

TBA 2011: PNCA Students Describe Daisey

Edited by Claudia La Rocco.

Posted by: Claudia La Rocco on Sep 19, 2011 at 06:00AM 0 Comments

Have you recovered from 24 hours of Mike Daisey yet?

Or maybe you’re in TBA withdrawal? I sort of am (and Portland withdrawal in general), back here on the East Coast. So it was great to get reports from several Pacific Northwest College of Art students, who, under the auspices of Barry Sanders’ creative writing course, attended “All the Hours in the Day” at various points. Here they are, a collective postmortem of sorts:

3 a.m.: After a hilarious hour spent watching hot vegans sizzling salty thick-cut bacon and also after eating a slice—and replenishing my coffee—I reentered the theater. Let me be clear from the start, this was the only hour that I attended for which I have zero notes. My notebook remains blank.
Mike Daisey began by talking about his unhealthy relationship with his high school girlfriend that shouldn’t have continued into his senior year of college. They both knew the relationship lasted too long. Now time was magnified by the fact that his girlfriend was—unknowingly to him—eight months pregnant. It wasn’t until her friend staged an intervention that she finally told him. They talked and talked for hours. Calm. They decided to give the baby up for adoption.

The picture Daisey paints is tragic. A baby that shouldn’t be. She never gave it up for adoption. Now, years later, he understands why she didn’t. After the pregnancy he describes the depression that he fell into. The nights he lay naked, trying endlessly to pull himself out of his desolation. “It’s the easiest thing in the world,” he says to himself while trying to move.

At this point I am starting to feel the weight of the gun on Daisy’s table. I am starting to feel the hole in my chest dilate. Himself as a character in his story begins to develop a routine. Every night he pulls himself out of his slumber, dresses himself and walks out into the air. It’s summertime in central Maine and he walks the abandoned streets. He walks past the burned down Boy Scout camp continuing toward the lake. Once at the lake he undresses and walks out into the crisp water. He keeps walking until he decides it’s times to float. The dead man float. He does this for hours until he can no longer stand the water. The man on stage then quickly and noisily sucks on his lower lip. As the months wade on in his story, so does the somber tone. The theater feels darker. It’s now late October in Maine. He has to push chunks of ice aside as he walks out into the water. On this particular night the lake is arctic. He can feel his diaphragm retracting as it rejects the frigid temperature. He expects the impending surge of adrenaline as his body tries to fight for the life he is so willing to give to this lake in Maine that lies just past the burned down Boy Scouts camp.
Not a soul moves in the audience. My tear ducts are betraying me. He swims back to shore. I come back to reality. It is now 3:45am and Mike Daisey has already turned his page and walked offstage for the break. The gun remains.

–Megan Savoy

6:32 a.m.: In the quiet at the break of dawn, a voice cuts through the whisper of nature’s white noise, to reveal a message in the style of a sermon. Mike Daisey stands atop the stage located in the Beer Garden of The Works dressed fully in black. Behind him a view of the city; above him the light rain falls atop us all, as he welcomes us to his church. He recites to us the message of the importance of living the human experience. A crowd surrounds him, some in pajamas and comfy clothes and most with rain jackets on. He tells us of why the world can be so difficult; he says it is because it is trying to grind us all down into a certain shape. He explains how our minds create thoughts that mimic IKEA furniture, in that we build it ourselves and no matter how hard we try to build our thoughts into perfection, they still “end up just a little fucked up.” He points to the sky, to us and to the world and tells us of our need to carry on; our worth in being present in our human experience. He notes that he is not perfect and that neither are any of us, but in this time that we spend united we are bringing fear to those who want to break us.

As his sermon comes to a close, Daisey invites a young woman with beautiful curly bright hair on stage and she invites us to sing along to Amazing Grace. One by one the crowd shows the camaraderie that has built from the many hours spent together, by sharing in the song. For some, tears manifest and for others smiles. It is a beautiful moment to be alive; together with humanity. The dawn daylight grows brighter while we all squint and rub our eyes to slowly adjust.

Was blind, but now I see.

— Nina Diaz

6 p.m. When something is able to reach into the catacombs of my thoughts and pull me into the light, it is undoubtedly due to a great measure of control, drama, and honesty. I am moved by genuineness and Mike Daisey truly fills the order. His truthfulness is questionable but his methods are infallible and in the final hour of this performance I genuinely believe that this could be the last time he ever performs. The last 45-minute session is dripping with implications of an ultimate end not only to this monstrous feat but also a violent end to his life by the pistol resting menacingly to his left. The pistol, one hand’s length away from pitting us against Daisey in fear of losing the constant voice that grounds us in some form of a hazy, but compelling, reality; one gesture away from testing our moral constitution. His words are building. His characters are finding their end. The audience is waiting for theirs. The conductor’s crescendo, his opus. The final statement:

“There is not enough time to tell you everything you need to know.”

He Bows.

We cheer.

We sing: Lean On Me

—Riley Huston

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Tags: author, TBA, tba2011, spoken-word

Henry Rollins at Alberta Rose

Posted by: Anne Adams on Mar 31, 2011 at 09:00AM 1 Comments

In his 1980’s rock diary Get On The Bus, Henry Rollins wrote of ordering entire pots of diner coffee for just himself, and performing countless sit-ups while sleeping on the floor of a garden shed in order to tone his famed muscular frame. More than 20 years later, the former Black Flag frontman is still a punk-rock straight-edge Spartan, but he’s segued gradually from rock into talk, becoming one of the most dynamic voices on the spoken-word stage. It probably goes without saying that Rollins has tons of cred and great energy, but he’s also got a rare ability to segue between humor and humanitarianism. But whether he’s expressing sympathy, humor, or anger, he’s always intense.

Next Tuesday, Rollins will be pacing the floor and speaking his mind at Alberta Rose Theater, but in case you can’t wait ‘til then, here’s a video to tide you over. (If you have any trouble keeping up, try drinking an entire pot of coffee.)

WARNING: SOME ADULT LANGUAGE

Rollins will be at Alberta Rose on April 5. For more about Portland arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!

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Tags: comedy, author, video

Sarah Vowell at Bagdad

Posted by: Anne Adams on Mar 29, 2011 at 11:15AM 0 Comments

Humorist and historian Sarah Vowell meets every scenario with the same sunny mantra: “It could be worse.”

Author Sarah Vowell has made her fame spinning stories from bone-dry historical research. She’s pored over documents detailing presidential assassinations, mined the microfiche to get the dirt on Puritans, and for her latest book Unfamiliar Fishes, she’s been snooping around Hawaii to find out how missionaries, foreign wars, manifest destiny, and Hawaiian native culture collided during America’s annexation of its unlikely 50th state.

“BOH-ring,” you might say. Ah, but thanks to the nuanced, snarky stylings of the savvy Ms. Vowell, you’d be wrong. She has a real knack for making these fusty old tales seem fresh and relevant—and seeing the humor in it all.

In giddy anticipation of Vowell’s visit to the Bagdad Theater this evening, Culturephile went into our own research mode, seeking a video clip of her talking about her new book. There were a few, but they were full of digressions about basketball and self-deprecating asides from Vowell about her inability to enjoy tropical leisure activities. So instead, we chose the following, a transcribed taping of Vowell sharing her general philosophy: “It could be worse.”
Check it out, and If you agree, catch her at the Bagdad!

Sarah Vowell will be at Bagdad Theater (SE Hawthorne & 37th) at 7pm. For more about Portland arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar, stream content with an RSS feed, or sign up for our weekly On The Town Newsletter!

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Tags: author

An evening with
Portland Arts & Lectures

Novelist Pauls Toutonghi recounts last week’s
Portland Arts & Lectures, which featured Elizabeth Strout and announced Oregon Book Award finalists.

Posted by: The Culturegang on Jan 28, 2011 at 12:00PM 0 Comments

Culturephile can’t be everywhere, but we hope, with our ever-growing spy network, we can cover the spread. Pauls Toutonghi, author of Red Weather, happened to catch last week’s Arts & Lectures event, and offer us this report:

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall is big. Cavernous, vast, gilded, velvety, a little intimidating—it’s everything that a 2,500-seat venue should be. And, last Tuesday night—during the third installment of the 2010-2011 PORTLAND ARTS AND LETTERS series—they served beer in little, portable cups. You could put the lid on your Sessions Lager and walk back to your seat. That was nice.

What else happened?

First off, Elizabeth Strout had a broken ankle. She hobbled onto stage, leg immobilized in a walking boot. This was in itself a small act of bravery. 2300 people are staring at you and you are almost certainly in pain. You situate yourself on the red leather couch, you look up at the audience. Your body is exposed as the frail thing it truly is.

But she was great.

Her main theme was the importance of fiction writing, the importance of reading, the ways that reading can change us, make us into the people we hope to be.

“Fiction helps keep us open,” Strout said. “It stops us from being dogmatic.”

Strout displayed this openness in the stories she told, stories about her own life and writing and the lives of her family. Her book, Olive Kitteridge, won the Pulitzer Prize in 2009. She detailed, among other things, her fifteen years of rejected short stories at The New Yorker—and the fact that she didn’t publish her first novel until she was 42 years old.

Strout quoted the poet Louise Gluck, who has said that: “We look at life once in childhood; the rest is memory.” And Strout’s memories seemed to organize around the character of her mother, a strong-willed (but loving) woman bred of New England Puritan stock. The talk dovetailed nicely with the text of Olive Kitteridge which has, as its heroine, a strong-willed (and ornery) woman bred of New England Puritan stock.

Strout also talked about television, and the way that, “television dilemmas are cartoonishly-large.”

This is something that I’ve been thinking about a little bit recently, too: The difference between cinematic (or television) writing and fiction. I think about this, in part, because my students watch so many movies, and I watch so many movies—and I wonder what this is doing to us, as writers. No matter how much you study the plot of Mad Men, for example, it won’t replace reading Herman Wouk’s Aurora Dawn. (Wouk, by the way, is still writing, from Southern California, at the age of ninety-five.)

Conflict in fiction can be subtle. It can be small. “Often, by the end of the book,” Strout said, “I feel like I’ve lost a good friend.”

The event was also notable for the announcement of the finalists for the Oregon Book Award. Many of the honorees were there, and Andrew Proctor, the Director of Literary Arts, raised the house lights and had them stand for an ovation.

The evening was—and the series continues to be—an affirmation of the strength of the writing community in Portland.

There are two events left in this Portland Arts & Lectures season—one in March, one in April. For more upcoming arts events, visit PoMo’s Arts & Entertainment Calendar!

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Tags: Review, book, author, Lecture

Portland Zine Symposium

Posted by: Anne Adams on Aug 27, 2010 at 10:59AM 1 Comments

Does that say “readings 4 dorkz?”
Read at your own risk.

What happens when just anyone can publish their own book or magazine? As you might imagine, many elements slip into the mix at Portland Zine Symposium.

Rebels
Content that would normally get nixed by a publisher, becomes fair game for the printed page: incendiary rants, unauthorized cut-and-pastes of copyrighted content, and a barrage of unedited, indulgent diary confessionals. Some of this stuff is cathartically irreverent, or awkwardly humorous. Some of it is intriguingly “outsider.” And some of it is illegible, or otherwise un-readable, point blank. (Caveat emptor: if you can’t read the cover, may as well put it down.)

Artisans
On the other hand, with little economic incentive, and no third-party directives, many zine-makers feel free to create something more wonderful than the market demands. Handmade touches emerge, like letterpress impressions, screen-print, hand-coloring, and crafty binding. Illustrations abound. Some authors who don’t try to “market,” prove nevertheless quite compelling to read. One gets the sense that the content is purer, unchecked by an editor’s agenda-pen.

Professionals
Some small publishers, like recent Culturephile featuree Brandon Seifert, writer of Witch Doctor, self-publish with one eye on the prize of a mainstream deal. They bring slick, shelf-ready books to the zine scene, providing readers a sneak preview of work that will eventually “go big.”

So what does the zine world offer? Variety. Freedom. Risk. Rarity. Enough stuff, that there’s probably something for you. Head over to PSU, browse the tables and meet the makers.

For a more comprehensive list of upcoming events, visit the Arts & Entertainment Calendar!

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Tags: Publishing, comics, writer, weekend, weekend, weekend picks, Arts Education, author, book, Weekend Plans, zine

Mary Roach Visits Portland!

The author of Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void, fittingly appears the same evening as the Perseid Meteor Shower.

Posted by: Anne Adams on Aug 12, 2010 at 06:00AM 0 Comments

Author Mary Roach took on the role of amateur space cadet, to research her latest book.

Astronauts, it seems, are misunderstood. While lionized and romanticized for their heroic turns of space-flight, the men and women who do the job are actually beset on all sides by petty annoyance and mind-numbing minutiae. Before and between the fleeting moments of floating and waving, astronauts are basically lab animals, poked and prodded, goaded and guiled by scientists. “What can we feed them?” “How might we strap them down?” “How many weeks can they endure the same underclothes?” are just a few of the myriad questions that can only be answered through a battery of NASA trials—and comically cringe-worthy errors.

Insatiably curious and hilarious nonfiction writer Mary Roach, already known for such titles as Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife and Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, pokes her nose into the most mundane aspects of space-travel prep in her latest offering, Packing For Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void. Fresh from shilling on The Daily Show, she hits Bagdad Theater (37th & SE Hawthorne) tonight at 7pm. This, incidentally, is mere hours before optimal Perseid Meteor Shower viewing, which should kick off at twilight. After catching Ms. Roach, you might rush over to one of OMSI’s Star Parties (at Rooster Rock or Stub Stewart State Parks, 9pm)—or just wander out of the Bagdad and up nearby Mount Tabor for a great sky-view, and most likely an informal neighborhood soirree. Either way, tonight offers plenty of opportunity for space exploration.

For a more comprehensive list of upcoming events, visit the Arts & Entertainment Calendar!

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Tags: Literature, book, author, writer, outer space

5 Questions with Brandon Seifert

On the cusp of Comic Con, the writer of Witch Doctor discusses his series’ new-found bargaining power.

Posted by: Anne Adams on Jul 21, 2010 at 02:00PM 2 Comments

Prepping for his Comic Con coup, Brandon Seifert is all pinstripes and smiles.

Brandon Seifert writes a comic book series called Witch Doctor, which has been billed, succinctly, as House meets Fringe. This might be the first you’ve heard of it, but it probably won’t be the last, as he and illustrator Lukas Ketner have recently signed on with big-league comics-industry financiers, Skybound. (Read more about that in this recent New York Times Article)

Tomorrow, the pair will premiere Witch Doctor at Comic Con in San Diego. Today, Culturephile catches Seifert in a state of giddy anticipation, ready to don a new suit and take the geek world by storm. Without further ado, five questions:

How did you react when you first heard from Kirkman/Skybound?

We first heard from Robert Kirkman one year ago today, just before last year’s Comic Con. It was an email out of the blue, asking if we had a publisher and saying, “Book looks really solid.” That was all.

I was terribly excited, and also startled. We’d gotten a lot of attention for the book, but not from anyone of Kirkman’s stature.

My reaction was also, “It’s a shame we have to turn this down.” At the time Robert was contacting us on behalf of Image Comics proper, and Image pays on the back-end — you get royalties based on sales, but you never get an advance on royalties. And my collaborator Lukas can’t afford to produce multiple issues of a comic unless he’s getting paid up front. It was only after a couple months of back-and-forth that Robert revealed he had his own imprint in the works, specifically designed to accommodate creators like Lukas.

This medical/metaphysical horror comic will break out at Comic Con tomorrow!

What has the partnership done for you financially so far? What bills have they footed? How many of your books have they printed?

I can’t really go into details on the financial stuff. I won’t be quitting my day job any time soon — unless the comic is a HUGE hit or we get a Hollywood deal sooner rather than later. (And considering I got my first inquiry about TV/film rights less than 24 hours after Monday’s New York Times came out… that’s not outside the realm of possibility.) Meanwhile, my collaborator gets to pay his rent while he works on our first miniseries, and we get a comic published, distributed — and heavily promoted, which is rare in comics and is a big deal.

What’s your strategy going into Comic Con?

My strategy is NOT TO DIE. I leave Portland at 6:40 in the morning tomorrow, get to San Diego around 9, and then it’s meetings, panels, signings, parties… and then I spend the night in the airport and fly out Friday morning, exactly 24 hours after I left Portland.

DON’T DIE is Job #1.

HAVE FUN is Job #2.

What are you and Lukas gonna wear? This seems like a frivolous question, but costuming’s big at Comic Con, and I know you care ;)

Ha. :-) I went out and bought a Victory Suit for the occasion. It’s a pin-striped black three-piece. I told my editor I bought a suit, and he went, “… Why?” So that might have been a mistake. But still — VICTORY SUIT!

What is your absolute best-case-scenario biggest dream for Witch Doctor?

A long and successful run on my own creation, a la the success Mike Mignola’s had with Hellboy. Accompanied by a WITCH DOCTOR TV show written and directed by Joss Whedon, with effects by a creature house run by Guillermo Del Toro.

Also, a solid-gold minivan and a castle on the moon.

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Tags: Interview, writer, five questions, 5 questions, new york times, Comic Con, Witch Doctor, Brandon Seifert, author, book, comics