Granny O'Grimm's Sleeping Beauty

Because I was feeling nostalgic and in the need for some beautiful animation...



-E

"It's an insane thing, to write a play."

One day, as we all sat around our lounge, sipping cappuccinos, Michael West said to us, "It's an insane thing, to write a play." There we were, aspiring playwrights living in Ireland, about to start the unthinkable - write a play. We must have been mad, loons, all of us. Needless would Michael know that three weeks later he'd be winning the Irish Times Theatre Award for Best New Playwright. An insane thing, yes.

Sitting in my living room now, six months later and living back in New York City, I think I'm fully starting to realize the extent of those words. Being a writer, trying to create a world. It's an insane thing. I have completed two stage plays in my infant career (a one act, and a two act), and now that I am facing the reality of writing my second full length screenplay, I can't help but go back to those words. Have I lost my mind?

The only thing that is keeping me calm is - I think - the fact that I now personally know a successful writer. I spent 18 weeks with him, I drank coffees and pints with him, I talked about Simba and Hamlet with him. And now his success is becoming a reality. Michael's latest work, Freefall, is premiering at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin later this month, and I can't help but sit here in awe. I know him. I know the flesh and blood man that wrote that play, those words. If you don't know, the Abbey Theatre is the end-all, be-all of theatre in Ireland; it's the National Theatre, the hot tamale of the stage world. 

To think, Michael made an insane thing sane. He wrote a play. He did what I dream to do.  And now, all I can think is how much I want to be there to see it come to a reality, to watch that show grace the main stage of the Abbey in it's full fruition. 

Is truly is, an insane thing.

-E

Michael West still dominates my life.

I'm just saying.

Here is his latest interview, describing his play Freefall from Edinburgh ... by far one of the best professors that I've ever had.

-E

Buh-Bye Southland!

Ventker is headed back home to the big bad BK tomorrow! That's right, this chick is leaving Virginia, once again ... by car ... so it will take 7 hours ... sitting shot gun ... on the Jersey Turnpike.

Not gonna lie, I am so stoked to get back to the City. I LOVE Ireland and I'm really pretty fond of Virginia - but as Bert and Ernie would say - I don't want to live on the moon. 

Y'all come back now, ya hear?

-E

If you didn't catch it, Virginia/Ireland are the moon in that reference.

Uimh Gaeilge

Oh lawdy, I've decided to bite the bullet and make an attempt at teaching myself Irish. Maybe this is an intellectual's way of pulling a Britney, I don't know, but I'm enjoying myself so far... well, sort of. Once I get beyond the memories of Sra. Hink drilling subjunctive tenses into my brain, it all seems to be a lot of fun. Maybe it's that whole "willful over mandatory" thing?

OH.

And when I went to the bookshop to buy said handy-dandy book, the teller (after examining my theatre culture and Beckett anthologies) LAUGHED at the grammar book! He said, and I quote, "Good luck with that one! That's the first copy I've sold in months."
After hours of reading up on my new handy-dandy Irish Grammar book, this is all I've got ...

Tá mé ag foghlaim na Gaeilge. Uimh Gaeilge. - I am learning Irish. No Irish.
Tá mé Meiriceánach. - I am American.
labhairt liom Béarla. - I speak English
beoir - beer

And that their language is more intense than English (Béarla) by half.
oíche mhaith
-E

No Escape

No Escape, the latest installment in a documentary-theatre series at Dublin's Project Arts Centre, is interesting to say the least. By no stretch of the definition can it be labeled a play, but it isn't reality, either.

The documentary piece acted as an expose into The Ryan Report (for the non-Irish, it's an in depth investigation into child abuse in the church school systems). Not a happy subject, eh? In a nutshell, it was an evening over-stuffed with facts, data, and cold hard information.

I don't know if it's appropriate to say that I enjoyed the play, but it most certainly kept me thinking and engaged. The layout is very much a subjective one, where the slue of information will either affect or deter you. In my case, the over-innundation of facts made it all the more personal, conveying, intriguing. It made you feel suffocated, as if it would never end, and that is the reality of the situation.

On a production level, I have to say that it was flawed. The main actor flubbed his lines on more than one occasion, and for the most part I forgive it. I understand that it’s hard to memorize all of those details, but also - you’re a professional actor, man. Also, the “theatrical” detail of the cast writing on glass would have been much more effective if done consistently. I wanted to see every glass panel covered in dates and statistics so that the feeling of suffocation could be intensified.

At the end of it, I felt like I was watching a live episode of Dateline. That's not necessarily a bad thing, just simply not what I expected.

Handel Day, Dublin!

I’ve always thought that The Messiah was pretty epic -- I do live in THE Music Hall, after all -- but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t until today that I fully appreciated just how amazing it is.

Every year in Dublin, a choir is assembled to perform highlights from The Messiah to commemorate the genius that was George Frederick Handel, and I have to say that I fell a little bit in love. Especially since the entire thing took place directly outside of my flat.

-E

This Week In Review

So, the week is almost at an end so I thought I’d do my best to fill the void with an update.

Sunday:
We made friends with random people in our hostel -- aka 3 guys from Sri Lanka, a guy from Namibia, and then a Parisian from Gambon who confessed his love for me after about 10 minutes. His name was Barton and he looked like Djimon Hounsou.

Monday:

The Huntarian Museum at the University of Glasgow was closed for the 3rd day in a row, so Jaime and I wandered around the city for the entire day. Found these really awesome bridges and ended up wandering through the equivalent of Scottish New Jersey on the North Side of the city. It was pretty epic. There is photo documentation. Then we saw A Single Man and I fell in love. It was wonderful.

Tuesday:

We took a cab to Glasgow airport at 0500, only to arrive at 5:30 and learn that we were in fact at the wrong airport (no one bothered to correct us). So we ended up taking a £100 cab ride to the correct airport an hour away and luckily got there just before the gate closed. Then after security they weighed our bags (which has never happened before) and we ended up having to pay £35 each for carry-ons that the flight crew didn’t even check. We finally got back to our flat in Dublin around 0900, just in time for Jaime to get to class. Thus ... the actual day began.

Went to lunch at Chorus, where we ran out of time so Sirus let us take our plates and silverware to class and then bring it back. It was pretty great. Kerry and I just walked in to Susanne’s class with these massive plates of omelets and chips ... people were jealous and we were full. In class I had to suffer the torment that was the movie Adam and Paul, and I’m pretty sure I am the only person that hated it with a burning passion. In a word: boring. I just wrote a review on it, so I might share my thoughts in a little bit, have no fear.

Then around 0930 Steven and Kristen finally got here (apparently the immigration guys looked me up in the computer to varify that they were staying with me and that I was a valid temporary citizen -- WEIRD) and we went to grab a pint over at Farrington’s. The music was great, but not gonna lie, we were dead. The day felt like a week.

Wednesday:

Fintan O’Toole came and spoke to us. It was pretty epic. I’ll be honest though, since he’s a theatre critic and all I definitely thought he was going to be talking to us about, you know, Irish theatre, but the entire thing ended up being about post-Celtic Tiger Ireland. It was incredibly interesting, actually, and I really want to read his new book now. After class Steven and I skyped into our first Orientation Meeting back at Pratt and were pretty amused. It was a fun time, seeing people and thinking about all the stress that awaits us back in the states. Joy.

Thursday:
Oh, today. Did I mention that the first draft of my full length play is due in less than 24 hours? Fun, right? Not. Lies. All lies. I’ve been teetering page 56 for the past week and can’t seem to stretch things out any further so far. It’s awesome. So, instead, I am watching Eraser with Kristen and Steven, drinking my third cappuccino of the day, and eagerly awaiting my take-away from Queen of Tarts.

Tonight is going to be a looooooong night.

-E

Perrier’s Bounty, aka: Mark O’Rowe is good craic!

Dear interwebs, it looks like the luck of my theatre/cinema classes is finally starting to kick in over here in Eire because I went to see the new Irish film Perrier’s Bounty tonight and I think I fell a little bit in love.

Written by Mark O’Rowe (Intermission, Terminus, Howie the Rookie), Perrier’s Bounty is basically the perfect combination of profanity, violence, humor, family, love, and Irish. It’s basically what would happen if Quentin Tarantino, Neil Jordan, and Steven Soderbergh had a love child that looked like Cillian Murphy. O’Rowe actually came and spoke to my theatre class just the other week, and I have to say that this script came as a shock to me -- it was incredible in a sheerly entertaining way: witty, vulgar, realistic.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t come out in the states until the middle of May, so you folks have to wait for the joy. But have no fear, I will definitely go see it again!

-E

AND Cillian Murphy is a bit of an alright. I’m just saying.

Top Quotes:

“She’s odd, like a bag of carrots.”

“Fuck that shit, man.”

(paraphrase) “You get the coke or I go visit mom, make your pick.” “Coke.”

lions, and tigers, and bears!

OH MY!

So, dear interwebs, despite catching the plague, I took it upon myself to venture out to the Phoenix Park Zoo with John, Luca, and Jaime, and needly to say ... it was fab! I don’t actually remember the last time I went to a zoo, but once I got past the whole “animals being kept in captivity against their will” part it was a lot of fun.

Monkeys? CHECK

Gorillas? CHECK

Tigers? CHECK

Giraffes? CHECK
Penguins? DOUBLE CHECK

AND we went and saw Jaime’s new family, you know, the one she married into when she fell in love with an Asian Elephant. It was presh.

-E

It's St. Patty's, everyone's Irish tonight!

So, interwebs ... yesterday was the infamous, the notorious, the ever-joyful event that is St. Patrick’s Day! And where better to be than Dublin, the legitimate home of the international alcoholic tourist?

No lie interwebs, this city -- Temple Bar to be specific -- became a complete mad house, with people wearing completely atrocious hats and garb, glitter and stockings.

Best part: the Irish are least likely to dress that way.

We spent the morning at our professor’s house over on the North End because the parade starts off of his block (it’s comforting to find graffiti reading “No Loyalists! CIRA March!” on a building). Pretty epic. None of the floats actually made sense. We ate American style BBQ. There were Irish children.

What was the topping on the cake you ask, dear interwebs? I would have to say that it was a combination of hanging out at Doyle’s with three guys named Rownan, Declan, and Eogen + Jaime being convinced that one of them [coughEogenthebarristercough] was a serial killer.

Until the next fake Irish holiday, or something more interesting pops along ...

-E

Broken Croí/Heart Briste -- An Dráma

So I went and saw Broken Croi/Heart Briste at the Project Arts Centre here in Dublin tonight, and I’ve got to say that I really loved it. Now, interwebs, I’m not a fan of Post Modernist Theatre. I’ve tried to like it, and I usually just can’t grasp my head around the more conceptualist styles of theatre, but Broken Croi/Heart Briste was seriously good, in my opinion.

There is minor audience participation, and it even starts with an actor talking to you as you take your seats. And basically, in essence, it was a show about the divide in language and the struggle of communication for two people. It’s written in Irish with English subtitles, and I still didn’t have a problem understanding anything, because the emotions were there in the writing. So, two thumbs up, interwebs. I think that Manchán Magan did a great job as writer and actor.

A blurb from Magan’s website -- “A self-loathing dancer and a fanatical Gaeilgeoir seek to connect in a language lesson that swerves from slapstick to acrimony to personal revelation. It’s a comedic and heartfelt look at fractured relationships, using a blend of Irish and English to reveal the warped truth behind our passions. Manchán Magan is the kilt-clad pedagogue vying with his mutinous teenage side-kick Eva O’Connor, both using language in a way that makes it understandable and relevant to all. Is it in Irish? Can language be a weapon? Who the feic knows?”

After the show we sat down and had a chat with Magan, and I thought it was just an overall pleasant experience ... Magan on the Irish going to the theatre: “You’ve all been to the Abbey. (Looks directly at me, YES, me) I know I’ve seen you there.”

- E

No Parlo Italiano!

It’s official -- I’m back in Dubsville, aka Dublin!!

If you didn’t know, interwebs, I’ve just spent the past week in the loverly city that is Roma, Italia and it was basically amazing. I think I’m officially obsessed with the Bernini Bridge (no, I don’t actually know the real name) and Santa Maria dia lo Muerto (once again, I don’t actually know the real name, soOo I made one up that sounds about right)

In a brief (very brief) nutshell, Santa Maria’s was absolutely incredible, and I could have spent hours in the very tiny room that is the crypt. Lots and lots of bones. Enough said.

Fabulosity? I think so.

Right up my alley? I think so.

Unfortunately, you’re going to get short changed here, interwebs, because I am knackered and just finally got home from a 3 hour flight filled with CRAZY Italian teenagers getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day. They were rude, they didn’t even try to speak English, and they had green hair. That is not a good/pleasant/fun/relaxing combination.

-E

Lies Susanne Told Me Number 317: “Students always come back from holiday with lovely tans.”

Irish Times Theatre Awards

Yeah, that’s my professor in that picture ... holding the award ... with his face all projected on a screen ...

The lovely Michael West just won the Best New Play award at the equivalent of the Tony’s over here in the Eire for his play Freefall. AND his wife, Annie, won for Best Director! Good craic, eh? I’m not going to lie -- we are all pretty excited about it over here! It’s not every day that an Award-Winning writer happens to be your professor ...

-E

Lies Susanne Told Me Number 512: “Michael West is very good.”

Here’s just a little excerpt from the Irish Times write up about the whole shebang ...

Yet the true stars of the evening were winners like director Annie Ryan, who used her acceptance speech on receipt of the award for best director for the Corn Exchange Theatre production of Freefall , to call for some kind of truce between those angered by the cuts in funding for so many theatre companies and the Arts Council members behind those decisions.

“Change is inevitable. There’s nothing we can do about that,” said Ryan, who said the Arts Council and Ireland’s theatre community must work together to find new solutions. “The question is, how do you harness the enormous energy that is released when something falls apart, and use it to create something better?”

Her husband Michael West, who received the Best New Play award for Freefall , also acknowledged the shake-up in Irish theatre that included a 48 per cent cut in the funding for Corn Exchange. “If the last few weeks have taught us anything, it’s how surprising theatre can be and what a privilege it is to work with it,” said West.

“The risk-taking that goes with making theatre is part of what we are and what we do.”

Belfast, Baby!

Not gonna lie, interwebs, all of the recent dissident IRA activity in the North made me a little anxious/nervous/excited for our trip to the UK today.

The morning started early. Very early. And I think I’ve decided that one of the worst feelings is walking past a good quality cafe that’s closed, only to buy shitty coffee at a Centra and walk back to find the good quality cafe is finally open. That’s right, interwebs -- we had to be on our bus at 8:00AM. AM. That is not kosher.

The ride was good in that we all slept, and I had a moment where I felt like the psycho in Six Shooter and just randomly burst out “SHEEP” in the middle of conversation.

First things first, we went on this epically long mural tour through the Catholic side, then the Protestant side. Not gonna lie, I found it all amazingly fascinating, but it was freaking freezing (there was still snow on the mountains) and wouldn’t have minded staying on the bus. But nooooo ... you get the real experience when you can’t feel your face in the wind.

Then we went to the Transport Museum which was pretty sick because, ya know, the Titanic was made in Belfast. AND there were trains. Lots and lots of trains! We got to play and run around and feel like boxcar children and it was basically amazeballz ... and inside.

Next came lunch in a pub and the subsequent Ireland-England rugby match (of which I only watched the last 13 minutes). In lue of the game, Jaime, Emma, Kerry, Luca, John and I went walking through the City Centre and rode the FERRIS WHEEL! That’s right -- Belfast has a ferris wheel inspired by the London Eye (which is also amazeballz). And when I say we all went, I mean Kerry, Emma, Luca and I went because John and Jaime were scared. To put it bluntly, it was stunning. To see a city with such visible barriers and divides were really fascinating. It’s nothing like Dublin or any other place I’ve been.


On a heavier note: Belfast is definitely not the city I was expecting it to be. Honestly, it didn't feel like must of a city. Similarly to how Pyongyang is supposedly a "fake city," there is something about Belfast that just didn't feel real. City Centre was alive and kicking, like Grafton Street or O'Connell, but as soon as you walked out of that zone, we were met with artillery lines, a mortar wall, and military police. It's as if the entire city is all a charade.

Top Moment --

(in a Belfast pub)
John: Well maybe one day there will be a unified Ireland.

Me: I’m pretty sure you don’t want to say that here. Just a thought.

So, until the next time I go to a still politically unstable country/province/state ...

-E

Sing Your Song

I have to admit that I hate karaoke.

I don’t sing in public, I don’t dance in public, you get the picture, interwebs. But recently I’ve taken to going to Kelly’s, this pub on my block, on Friday nights to see my friends (and drunken strangers and tourists) belt their hearts out on a mic ... and it is amazing! That it some seriously good craic. No lies.

We’ve come up with a sudo-system for nicknaming all of the people, usually based on their clothing/demeanor (Leggings, Argyll, Red Tee, Bouncer, etc.) and it is hysterical. Best part? Elizabeth, Jaime and I ran into Leggings while walking up the River Liffey last Saturday night ... it was pretty amazeballs, interwebs.

-E

Loves it!

ELIZABETH CAME TO DUBLIN!

I had been waiting and waiting for this weekend to come, and needless to say, I was not let down!

It was so great getting to hang out with not only one of my best friends from home, but a sorority sister as well. She is so much fun to hang out with, and I absolutely love that she has no shame in looking like a tourist. We went into kitchy stores, took cliche pictures, and laughed the entire way through.

We spent Friday walking around Kilmainham Gaol, which is basically my favorite place in this city so far, regardless of the fact that one of my favorite movies was filmed there. Can we talk about In the Name of the Father?! The entire time we were in there I couldn’t help but have a conniption over how amazing Daniel Day-Lewis was in every scene filmed there. we spent that night at the local karaoke hunt up the block, where Jaime sang under the name of Euphegenia Doubtfire and I got the number of the Bouncer. Needless to say: good craic!

Saturday the three of us went up north to what is basically the most picturesque town of all time: Howth (like both). Walking around there felt like we were in Greece or the Italian coast. Also, apparently they had the best fish n’ chips on the planet (I stuck with my chicken, thank you very much). We followed up the night with another eventful evening at the favorite, Farrington’s, where we proceeded to meet the closest thing thus far to a leprechaun (his name was Noel) and a music guru (William) trying to explain the relevance of the Cork-Kerry football win from that afternoon.

All in all, it was by far the best weekend thus far and I CANNOT WAIT to go to London sometime soon!

-E

A storehouse full of beer!

I think that I’ve come to the conclusion that the Guinness Storehouse is God’s gift to Ireland. That place is freaking amazing! For the low price of E11 you get into the entire museum AND you can have one of their bartenders teach you how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness. Highly suggest it.

AND I found a little piece of Brooklyn while en route -- the back roads there basically look like Taffee with better sounding accents. Not gonna lie, I kinda loved it.

-E

Day 1: Dublin!

This makes it official. My status as a New Yorker is officially on hold. Good-bye G train, how I will (won’t) miss you!

So ... I haven’t slept in going on 48 hours, and I really don’t care because I’M IN DUBLIN!

First amazing thing about Ireland: the cabbies actually talk to you! There’s none of that New York “sorry, I don’t speak English,” crap. It’s all conversation filled.

My goal is to stay awake all day ... it’s a fat chance but worth a shot. Orientation starts this afternoon - joy.

-E

It's that time of year again...

... and no, I don't mean Christmas -- well I do, because Christmas is amazeballz -- finals have officially started. Call on the all-nighters, triple shot cappuccinos, eye concealer, messy hair, and beautifully crafted (or bullshitted) stories!

On top of the work, I'm getting together all of my Ireland paperwork and officially coming to terms with the fact that I leave in 39 days. Three. Nine. Thirty-Nine. Holy crap. I am not ok with this. Well I am, because Dublin is going to kick-ass, but I'm not because it'll mean I'm leaving home for a full six months. I haven't been away from New York for that long since I've moved here, and it definitely is weirding me out... oy.

I might be bald by the 18th, but at least the semester will be over.

-E