Thing 55: Fringe, Revisited

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Fringe makes DC a better place to live and visit.

My Fabulous Sex Life makes Fringe a better festival.

Yes, we are in the last throws of the Capital Fringe Festival but there is still time to see some excellent theater, and I'd like to recommend that you see the final performance of My Fabulous Sex Life, starring Brent Stansell. If you can beg, borrow or steal a ticket to the sold out show.

Full disclosure: Brent Stansell, whose fabulous sex life is center stage, is a very dear friend of mine. We've known each other nine years, and God help me but I was actually witness to one of the stories he tells during the performance. But I'm fairly certain that my relationship to Brent is not clouding my judgement that this show is brave, funny, well-paced, and at times heart-breakingly poignant. Which are all the elements of a proper Fringe show.

Brent spends the evening revealing the most intimate details of his fabulous (and sometimes not fabulous) sex life. Guided through the show by slides that set the scene or announce the theme, Brent tells us about the sex parties, glory holes, online sites and forgettable encounters he's had in the pursuit of sexual gratification and connection. Sometimes those two pursuits overlap, and sometimes they decidedly don't, but Brent soldiers forward, stripping away the stigma that comes with sex for sex' sake, but also exposing his own vulnerabilities and loneliness.

I'm so very proud of you Brent, for being so brave.

I'll also put out another recommendation for It's Not Easy Being Green, starring another dear friend of mine, Ms. Mary C. Davis.

But even if you assume I am biased and untrustworthy, I do hope that you go out and see something before Fringe closes. There are too many wonderful, unexpected and exciting shows going on not to.

Related: Woolly Mammoth Theater Company, Ford's Theater.

Two years ago: melon cocktails at Vermilion.

Top 10 DC Things To Do This Summer 2009

By now, I'm sure you've heard the news and if not, let me be the first to tell you: Screen on the Green is back, baby! The outdoor movies will screen in their usual spot every Monday from July 20 - August 1o, starting with Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

The truth? I've known for awhile; and since it's no secret what my #1 summer activity is year after year, I've been holding my Top Ten list until it was made official.

So, without further ado...the DC365 Top Ten Things To Do This Summer in DC, 2009 edition!

10. Hillwood Estate outdoor movies: There were only two of these wonderful events scheduled for this year, and there's only one left, so what are you waiting for? Get your ticket! A nice, lush lawn, candelabra, cake stands, quality movies, wall-to-wall gays and free bug spray. Trust me, you want this.

9. Go on a bike ride: My bike tour of the Anacostia Riverwalk inspired me -- there are tons of trails in the area to get your cycle on and enjoy the summer sun. If you have a bike, consider joining the Washington Area Bicycle Association. If you don't have a bike, fork over the $40 and join Smartbikes for a year. I'm a member, and I'm a big fan. You can take a bike from any of the eight current docking stations and return it to any docking station within three hours. And, the program got $3 million in stimulus money to expand, so there will even more stations in the coming year.

8. Mr. Yogato: When you're sweating and salty, the very best thing for that is a cup of original tangy with fresh blueberries and strawberries. If you're really salty and sweaty, you can attempt the 30-day challenge: eat at Yogato every day for 30 days and you get a flavor named after you! If you prefer variety, you can also check out tangysweet, Larry's Homemade, Dolcezza and Pitango.

7. Pick Peaches: The Boyfriend and I had a blast picking apples at Stribling Orchard, and this year we plan to go back out to the country to pick as many peaches as we can load into our bags. You can pick peaches at Stribling, or you can join Farmfoody, which is like Facebook for farmers, to get bulletins on whose peaches are ripe and when. A summer full of peach cobbler, peach ice cream, and peach pie? Yes, please.

6. Cantina Marina: This bar is like Spring Break, all summer long. Right on the water, open and breezy, and with copious frozen margaritas at your disposal, you'll think you're back in college in Cancun. It is a great place to while away a lazy afternoon in the sunshine and summer breeze. Beware, on Nats game days and Friday and Saturday nights it can be quite crowded. If you're looking for an alternate roof deck or patio, check out the Helix Hotel bar, Marvin or the Beacon Martini Sky Bar.

5. A Nationals Game: I know the Nats suck, but come on -- sitting in the sunshine with an $7 Miller Lite, a Ben's Chili dog and some peanuts, watching the Nats lose? Doesn't get much better than that.

4. Wolftrap: I do love the Wolftrap, with it's lawn seating and liberal alcohol policy. Check out their schedule for upcoming acts. Why did this beloved summertime activity drop to #4 this year? With all the rain we've been having, the risks are high that you'll be stuck on the lawn in the middle of a downpour, which is not fun at all.

3. The Uptown: Harry Potter VI comes out this summer, and you will find me in line at the Uptown. This is still the best venue to see the the loud and flashy summer action movies with it's enormous screen and old timey balcony (!) seating. The Uptown is full of memories and experiences, I can sum it up better than I did when it was Thing 49.

2. Go on a picnic: I'm really trying to expand my picnic repertoire this year, and I always welcome more suggestions. Although the cherry blossoms are gone, the Tidal Basin and Haines Point remain excellent picnic locations, but there is also Malcolm X Park, the Franciscan Monastery, Gravelly Point, Poplar Point, Pierce Mill, Logan Circle, and on and on. Bring a cooler filled with cold, refreshing beverages, some dips in a tiffin, and kek with a chole in it, and you've got yourself a perfect summer afternoon.

1. Screen on The Green: See you for some box wine, dancing and sweating at Close Encounters of the Third Kind!! And many thanks to the saviours of this event: HBO, Comcast and the Trust for the National Mall!

Want more ideas? Check out my 2008 Top Ten list and my 2007 Top Five.

Thing 156: Artomatic

When I was a sophomore in college, I met a local boy who was an artist and into graphic novels. We kinda liked each other and he asked me out on a date. He came to pick me up from Foggy Bottom, and I asked him where we were going. "The waterfront," he replied. "We're going to see an art show."

Looking back, my narrow knowledge of DC at the time was downright shameful, but I was so confused when we got on the Metro to go to the Georgetown waterfront, and even more confused when we transferred to the green line. When we emerged, there didn't appear to be any water in sight, only a Safeway, a parking lot, and a rather large, abandoned-looking office building.

You've guessed it -- the waterfront was of course the Southwest waterfront, and the art show was Artomatic. It all felt very glamorous and exciting to be in an exotic part of the city and seeing an alternative, indy art show that sure had some weird stuff. Sadly, the boy and I never made it to date two, and I barely stepped foot in Southwest after that.

It took eight years for Artomatic to come back to the waterfront, and it took me that long to pay it a return visit. On Saturday, I strolled down the waterfront, now the home of the stadium and a neighborhood I frequent (the Boyfriend has lived in the littlest quadrant nearly a year), to a shiny new office building that has been taken over for the month of June by all manner of artists and performers.

If you haven't yet been to Artomatic, I'm not sure what you're waiting for. I guarantee: You will find something in this art show that you love, if only because of the sheer magnitude of works of art available to see. The show is nine full floors, of which we only made it through three, and as it was we saw gorgeous, thought-provoking, silly, ugly, weird, scary and peaceful works. Sculpture, oil, watercolor, installation, tin foil, greeting card, photography and marshmallow pieces. You will find something you cannot live without, and something you'd wish you'd never seen, before you leave.

I am primarily attracted to photography, and really loved Tony DeFilippo's photos of the District, as well as Jim Darling's portraits and stories in his 100 Strangers project. I also love abstract art with bright colors and repeating patterns, and was completely drawn in by Joel Church's pieces. I enjoyed Ginny Kinsey's block prints, with their messy outlines and unique point of view, and I still don't know what to make of Bunny Noir, but I really enjoyed it.

And that was from one third of the entire thing -- before my brain shut off and my stomach started growling. Think of all the fabulous things I've missed in the other six floors! And the live performances that happen through the day, each day!

Artomatic continues through July 5. Don't make the mistake I did by waiting eight years between visits.

Related: Crafty Bastards, Arts on Foot and an Afternoon at the Galleries.

Things 146, 147, 148 and 20 Revisited

Well, it seems that it took ten weeks before I abandoned one of my new years resolution to blog more regularly.  But, it was in part because I was busy completing a different resolution that I didn't tell you about at the time (in case of utter failure).  And that resolution was to complete the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler.  Which I did.  

So, without further ado, a brief roundup of the Things I've been up to in my absence.

Thing 146: Run the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler

I've never been a runner in my life, so what possessed me to sign up for my very first race and have it be not just a 5k, or heck, even a 10k, but ten miles?  Apparently, I don't like to do anything half-assed.

So I started training in December, building up to three miles as a comfortable base distance.  Then I joined a running group that trains for this specific race.  We met on Saturday mornings going ever-further distances: three miles, then four, then six, then (I can't believe it still) eight, until I'd built up to 9.75 the week before the big race.  Eight miles really seems like a lot when you look at map to see that you've run from Foggy Bottom to Lincoln Park and back.  

Race Day was beautiful.  The weather was a warm, breezy 70 degrees, the sun was out and everyone was in great spirits.  The people cheering along the route helped to keep my spirits up as I ran from the Washington Monument, across the Memorial Bridge and back, down to the Kennedy Center, around the Tidal Basin, around Haines Point and back to the Memorial.  And I beat my goal time of two hours by a whopping eleven minutes!  Coming in at 1:48:59, I completed my first ten miler.

Thing 147: Founding Farmers

This restaurant has been buzzing since it opened, and I'm surprised it took me so long to make it over there, seeing as how their philosophy is very much in tune with mine. 

At Founding Farmers we believe that everyone benefits by knowing more about the source of the food they eat. We understand the journey of our products from seed to harvest, and from Farm-to-Table. Owned by a collective of American family farmers, Founding Farmers exists to promote the products and services of family farms, ranches, and fisheries.

Plus, the have a bacon-bourbon cocktail.  Bacon! And bourbon! In a cocktail!  

I went for a work lunch, and my guest and I had a really great experience.  I had heard mixed things about the service, but one time I was there our service was impeccable.  In fact, our waiter walked us through choices on the menu, specialty cocktails and why they were so special, and even shared a laugh with us about biodynamic wines.  And he read my mind when he asked if I was ready for the carrot cake I hadn't ordered yet but was so totally ready for.

The food was great, too.  I had a harvest salad with fresh spinach, hard-boiled eggs, blue cheese, thick cut cubes of bacon and caramelized onions.  My guest had fried chicken and waffles, which I stole a bite of in order to vouch that the fried chicken was juicy and crispy and all those things fried chicken really ought to be.  And the carrot cake was exactly what I wanted, with not-too-sweet cream cheese frosting and these ridiculously good candied pecans.

My bacon bourbon cocktail?  The biggest disappointment.  Perfect in theory, but in practice, you get a glass of cold, spicy bourbon and a hot bacon lollipop on the side, and consuming it in a way that makes sense is impossible.  Either you dunk the lolly, in which case the bacon gets cold and the fat congeals, or you drink and nibble, drink and nibble, which is simply too high maintenance for a cocktail.  

This place is not cheap, so save it for a special occasion.  But that said, I did have a good experience here.

Thing 148: The Shakespeare Theatre Company

Hey, remember when I saw The Heavens are Hung in Black and it was terrible?  Well, my recent experience at the Shakespeare Theatre was the exact opposite of that.

My friend Sam took me to see Ion, "the Greek tragedy with a happy ending", in the newly built theater in Chinatown.  The play has been updated in language and look, and I have to admit, I just loved the whole production.  The Greek chorus was recast to be a half-dozen modern-day tourists who attended to a royal power couple.  Apollo's temple was a tourist attraction, attended to by Ion, a boy born to Creusa after she was raped by Apollo.  (The back story recap was done with puppets and was both playful and effective).  Mistaken identities and hilarious hijinks ensued, but instead of a stage littered with dead bodies, this play ends in singing and uplift.  

Not every part of the update was a home run, but enough of it was, and it was playful and fun enough to keep everyone engaged and smiling.  

Thing 20, Revisited: Cherry Blossom Picnic

We inaugurated picnic season under the blossoms again this year, with an abundance of dips, deviled eggs, box wine, cookies and a gingerbread bundt cake.  Do not be dissuaded by the crowds, this yearly tradition is not to be missed.

If you do have a favorite picnic place, please leave it for me in the comments.  I want to fit in as many 'nics as possible before the humidity sets in. 

Thing 139: SpeakeasyDC

Eye of the Tiger.  If It Makes You Happy.  Take Me Home, Mountain Roads.

We all have songs that trigger intense memories, that put us right back into a time and a place in our lives, that make us giggle or blush or weep.  Dr. Dre's Keep They Heads Ringin' puts me right back in Mr. Nelson's seventh grade science class.  Stacey's Mom brings me back to driving the snow covered roads of pre-caucus Iowa in 2003 and the intense pull of first love.  Nelly's Hot in Herre drops me in the midst of the happy reunion of roommates in those first few days of senior year, after we'd all returned from various studies abroad and couldn't tell our stories fast enough, a jumble of words and photos spilling all over each other, laughing and dancing and printing out Nelly's lyrics and attaching to them to the fridge so we could try to memorize them in idle moments.  

But while these songs and countless others bring up intense memories and feelings of time and place for me, it is decidedly harder to spin these feelings into great stories, with a beginning, middle and end, with a lesson or a poignant moment or laughter strewn throughout.  Which is exactly what the storytellers at SpeakeasyDC have learned to do.  

SpeakeasyDC offers workshops and performances for storytellers -- seasoned or beginners.  Every month the group gathers for performances, and every month has a theme.  February's theme was "Mixtape" and all the stories revolved around a song.  Some stories were funny and alive with embarrassment, others were personal and quite poignant.  

Mike got up to tell us about a rather unfortunate incident that occurred while he was running on the treadmill.  Just as Eye of the Tiger came on, he, er, lost control and had to flee the gym quickly and in a haze of blushing embarrassment.  He'd crafted it so that we were all laughing out loud, and he laughed with us at his own misfortune.  Suji told her story of trying to find love, centered around her love of music and in particular her love of There's a Light That Never Goes Out, by the Smiths.  It was quiet, honest and real -- an unglamorous look at the good and the bad decisions we make in the pursuit of love.  And Meredith told us the story of her sheltered Mormon roommate her freshman year of college, a funny but mean tale of revenge, humiliation and the "h-word" in If It Makes You Happy.  

I love story telling.  I love the Moth podcast, I love This American Life, it's one of the reason I love improv, and why I primarily read fiction.  I have a great respect for those who can tell good stories, dropping in important details that matter later, keeping people enthralled the whole time.  And if you feel your story telling skills could use a tuneup, SpeakeasyDC also holds four-week workshops, in which you learn the fundamentals of the craft, and ultimately get to perform in open mic settings such as these.

This event was held in the upstairs room at Station 9 (which is huge and awesome, by the way.  Does anyone know anyone there?).  It cost $10, and they had full food and drink menus available, though we'd eaten prior to arriving.

Full disclosure, the Boyfriend and I left at intermission.  Not because we weren't enjoying ourselves -- we really were -- but because this event is simply too popular.  We couldn't find a place to sit, and we got tired of standing on the edges of the crowd (one of us was in heels no less).  We will return, but we will get there early, and I recommend you do the same.

I've started corporate blogging, too!  If you just can't get enough of me over on DC365, or if you are interested in seeing a completely different side of my life, I am one of the contributors of Aristotle's new blog, In The Know.  Pop over and check it out over!

Thing 137: Ford's Theater

So...there's good news, and then there's bad news.

The good news is that the Ford's Theater renovation is complete, and it is beautiful. The lobby is light and open, with lots of glass and shiny grey and white tiling. There's a fancy gift shop where you can buy Abraham Lincoln bobbleheads and huge novelty pennies that cost $6 each. There's information on the walls about the history of the theater. Lincoln's great coat will be on display in the lobby shortly (though you can see his blood and the bullet that killed him here). And the theater itself is beautiful, with a beautiful ceiling, a broad and newly done stage and yes, comfortable seats. For those of you who had been to the old Ford's Theater, you'll know that comfortable seating is a huge upgrade.

And it is pretty remarkable to sit in that comfortable seat and look up at the box in which Lincoln was shot. The history is mighty and duly appreciated.


But now for the bad news...the play they're re-opening the theater with is really, really bad.

I was offered the chance to see a free preview of "The Heavens are Hung in Black" last week. In the spirit of my new year's resolutions, I went with it. And, like the lesson I learned with the Iranian film festival, when you indiscriminately do things that are free, sometimes they are no good at all.

Where to start? The show lasted three hours (with two intermissions) and had not a scrap of dramatic tension throughout. It told the story of the months between the death of one of Lincoln's sons and his issuing of the emancipation proclamation. There are interminable dream sequences in which Lincoln rather heavy-handedly debates whether or not to free the slaves with various historical figures, but all along we know exactly what he's going to do and so these dream sequences just feel like they're Art. Art with a capital "A" as in "I have something very important to say" (doesn't the best art often say something very important without announcing itself so loudly?).

The non-dream sequences benefited from very good acting. The cast overall, Mary Lincoln in particular, were all good, they just didn't have much to work with. The scenes with Lincoln, his Secretary of War Edwin Stanton and his Secretary of State William Seward -- his team of rivals you may have heard something about -- were devoid of any sense of urgency or any aspect of, well, rivalry. And Lincoln, known for his intelligence and his bons mots, makes so many quips in the face of every possible situation that Act 2 feels an awful lot like an episode of "The West Wing: 1862."

There's also an extended scene in which Lincoln stumbles upon a group of actors rehearsing Shakespeare. This gives Lincoln an excuse to expound on Hamlet and how he is a tragic figure who spent too much time equivocating and ultimately died in the pursuit of truth and justice. My head hurts from all the hitting over it.

But perhaps the most offensive bit was at the end, with an overt shout-out to Barack Obama himself, a reference that could have been left unsaid. Because we are all pretty aware that Lincoln emancipated the slaves and now we have a black president. But thank you for drawing that line for us, we might have missed it otherwise.

Phew, I've had all that anger bottled up for a week now, and it feels good to let it go. I do encourage you to pop your head in and see the new digs, but do not stay for the show -- hopefully the next one will be better. And I promise that Thing 138 will be more fun. It features 100% more dancing, and that's a good start, right?

Thing 129: Improv Workshop from WIT

"I am one of those people who believe that improv really changes who you are, and how you approach your life and relationships," Anna, our improv teacher for the night, told us by way of introduction.  What followed was two hours of games and exercises, as nine strangers stood in a circle to see where 'yes' would take us.

The Washington Improv Theater gives free workshops leading up to their regular sessions of classes, which cost $240 for eight weeks of 2 1/2 hour classes.  The free class is a great way to decide if you want to invest in the full session, if you've ever been curious but scared to commit to learning the fundamentals, or if you just want to flex your funny bone.  If you're shy or a ham, the small group setting and professional instruction will make you feel comfortable during what could be a pretty scary experience.

I was not in totally unfamiliar territory however.  Those of you who have read this blog very carefully, or who have just known me a long, long time, may recall that in high school I did my fair share of improv.  My high school theater program, which I remain grateful for even though I don't do a lick of theater in my adult life, really emphasized the skills of good improvising -- not just being funny, but being realistic, in the moment, accepting, open minded and empathetic.  Having gone through the introductory two hours with WIT, I am pleased to report back that they stress those same skills, valuing experience and truth over the cheap and easy laugh.

Anna led us through a series of games and exercises, some tried and true ('freeze tag,' 'what are you doing?') and others that I'd never done before ('emotional four square').  Throughout the lesson, she highlighted the 'teachable moments,' picking out the things that worked best in certain scenes, and explaining the theories or techniques behind why they worked.  We learned about mirroring of physicality and emotions, why patterns (and breaking them) are so darn funny, the importance of listening and accepting the realities as we created them on stage together.  She was a great teacher, knowledgeable, approachable, friendly and quick to encourage making mistakes as part of the learning process.

We were also fortunate that the group itself was eerily good at improvising off the bat.  Though by no means experts, we all worked together with the trust and openness of a troupe that knows each other intimately and has worked together a long time.

As part of my new year's resolutions to both save money and blog more, I will not signing up for the regular class session, but not because I didn't enjoy myself.  It felt really great to remove that safety net and take the leap, to not know what was coming next and accept it as it came.

Thing 64: Opera on the Mall

In DC, opera is for the masses.

Last Sunday, the Washington National Opera telecast Puccini's La Boheme on the Mall, at the foot of the Washington Monument. Under a perfectly clear, sunny sky, a couple thousand people gathered with blankets and sunscreen to watch a free performance of the famous opera. A large screen was set up on the north side of the grass and we watched the performers as they performed the show on the Kennedy Center stage just down the road.

It's a really nice idea. Bringing opera outdoors, for free, at the foot of a national symbol like the monument. We all know that I'm a big proponent of outdoor movies and performances. But somehow, this idea falls flat when put into practice. For one, it loses a lot by being broadcast. A free live performance on the Mall might still capture the magic and sparkle of the opera, just by virtue of watching live artists and the give and take between performer and audience. The act of applauding performers who cannot hear you feels futile.

Second, it loses a lot by being outside. Opera is hard to sit through for many of us (as evidenced by the mass exodus of people at the intermission), and it is harder still to sit through when you're sitting on a blanket on the ground, squinting from the glare and afraid of getting sunburned. The mystique of opera is that it is a luxury, to be enjoyed in your finest dress clothes and followed by champagne. On this point however, I am torn. I like the idea of breaking down that mystique and presenting opera as an art form for everyone. I don't think this is the way to accomplish that though.

As for the opera itself, again I think it fell flat between the idea -- an update to the classic, allowing it to reach a larger audience by making it more accessible -- and the realization of that idea. Turn-of-the-19th-century Paris becomes a nondescript, modernish any-city, where the artists shoot footage on a cam corder, but write out their stories by hand, without backing them up on a PC. Mimi hand embroiders delicate flowers, but wears a vinyl trench coat. The Cafe Momus looks like Studio 54 and Mimi's tuberculosis becomes some modern, nondescript illness (AIDS? SARS?). While I understand the director's intention to re-make an opera that was once a near documentary of the time in which it was written back into a near documentary of artistic life today, it doesn't work.

I was also completely saddened to find out that the musical Rent has ruined my enjoyment of La Boheme. I can't help but compare the two as the opera progresses, playing Rent simultaneously in my head. This is no fault of the Washington National Opera's, and frankly, I'm pretty mad about it. La Boheme is an exquisite piece of music, and it does not deserve to have me thinking "this is the 'light my candle' song" as it unfolds.

At intermission, Placido Domingo, the General Director of the Washington Opera, made an appearance to speak to the crowd. He told us how happy he was to see so many people out to enjoy opera, and said he hoped that for some of us, this might be the first opera we've ever seen, and that it might inspire us to see more and learn more about the art form. It is a noble wish, and I hope it comes true, but from where I was sitting, I think it's doubtful.

Thing 61: Arts on Foot

Oh, DC. It is so good to be back. How I’d missed you.

The west coast is nice and all, but you have to drive everywhere and public transportation, if it exists, costs a lot more than Metro. Sure I got to eat at Chez Panisse and the Bi-Rite Creamery, but give me Central or Larry’s Homemade any day of the week. I’ll trade in horses and fig trees for the Capitol dome and my trendy corner of Logan any day.

I hit the DC tarmac running, with a weekend chock full of fun DC activities, which I’ll reveal all in due time. Allow me to start with the Arts on Foot Festival. Food! Music! Visual art! Performing art! Comedy! Drama! Cooking! Cheese! Wine!

Welcome home.

What a joy to walk around Penn Quarter in the September sunshine smelling garlic shrimp and listening to a boisterous gospel choir singing “When The Saints Come Marching In.”

I arrived at the festival near 1:00, after a late and large brunch, which I immediately came to regret because of the all the food booths set up from local restaurants. Cowgirl Creamery had a cheese plate, Rosa Mexicana was dishing out fresh, chunky guacamole, and La Tasca was frying shrimp in garlic olive oil and serving them over paella. All the small plates cost $1 - $5, and while I didn’t sample anything, Jodi was able to make a nice mini meal on the cheap.

I wandered over to the Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, which was selling reduced-priced preview tickets for their upcoming season, selling old props and costumes from prior performances, and offering a behind-the-scenes tour of the theater. After perusing through the leftover junk on sale, I decided to wait for the tour. The tour didn’t start for another 20 minutes, so I popped across the street to check in with the Bead Museum. Although the sitcoms soundtrack wasn’t playing, it was just as odd as ever. A man stationed at the front was offering the new comers to help them “get oriented” to the museum and its one room. They’ve replaced the Shakespearean exhibit with “The Timeless Cowrie” – a collection of various pieces using the small snail shell that is seen in many parts of the world as sacred or as currency. Or around the necks of stoners and frat boys.

The tour of Woolly of led by the artistic director himself, Howard Shalwitz, and he showed us through the scene shop and into the green room and onto the stage. He explained about how Woolly came to inhabit such prime real estate: the condo complex used to be a federal parcel of land, and the requirement for development was that it must include space for a theater. Woolly signed on with a developer from Texas who worked with them to meet the federal requirements as well as their own, and now they have this angular and spare theater space which includes a fairly large scene shop, two hundred seat courtyard-style theater, and rehearsal and workshop space.

After the tour, I wandered back over to the main area of the festival. They had a tent set up proclaiming "cooking as art," which was holding demonstrations by local chefs. Jodi and I waited patiently for the next demo to start, watching a sous-chef unwrap about fifty small paper plates covered in plastic wrap with pretty pink and pale green foods on them. Then the chef from D'Aqua arrived, spoke briefly about his Italian-style seafood restaurant and the process by which they cure their own salmon in-house. The demo itself consisted of his assistant putting a couple of layers of seafood into a round mold, and the wrapping it in cucumber. And then the masses crowded to the table to demolish the fifty small plates of samples.


Finally, we headed to 9th and G, across from the library to the Flashpoint gallery and theater space to see a free performance by the Washington Improv Theater. In the small black box theater, five improvisers did a 'long form' improvised show, meaning that it wasn't the games and short skits you may be used to if you've seen Who's Line Is It Anyway? It's a more theatrical form of improv that attempts to tell multiple stories that thematically come together. It's pretty difficult and some of the threads succeeded and some of them failed, ultimately weaving together stories of tadpoles, hardware scandals and love on a train.

I stuck around for the free workshop they offered after the performance, in which a dozen of us learned some of the very basics of successful improvising. Although I knew many of the games and lessons already (I did quite a bit of improv acting in high school), it was fun to jump back into it and remember the rush of getting on stage without knowing what the other person is going to suggest and just going along for the ride.

And after all that, it was nearing 5:00 and I headed for home, tired from the day and exhilarated from being back in this city, surrounded by art, theater, music, good food and sunshine.

Thing 55: Capital Fringe

I have been thinking and thinking, for over a week now, on how to blog about fringe.

Part of the problem is that this year I didn't like the only show I saw and in a roundabout way I am connected to the producers, so I feel I need to tread lightly.

Then again, saying glowing things about something I didn't like much is a really bad way to lose the trust of those half a dozen of you who read this blog regularly. (Oh, I'm being modest. There are at least of dozen of you out there. Hi, Mom!).

So, here we go: regardless of how good or bad the show you get to see is, the Capital Fringe Festival makes DC a better place to live and visit.

Haven't fringed yet? Well, sadly, because it took me so darn long to mull this entry over, this year's festival has come and gone. You will need to wait until the Capital Fringe Festival 2008 to dive in and experience it for yourself. And it's worth doing, even when the show(s) you see isn't very good, or the theater isn't actually a theater but a church with no air conditioning, or it is a one man show starring a man with no business starring in a one man show. Live theater makes makes this city better. Supporting local theater companies, actors, dancers, puppeteers, singers, directors and artists is an important part of living in a vibrant urban area. Nurturing a fledgling arts festival, only in its second year and with the promise of so many more years of silliness and beauty and spectacular successes and failures is such a worthy way to spend an evening and $20.

Capital Fringe is modelled after the mother of all fringe festivals, the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. I have never been, but I do know someone who worked it one year, and it is basically a literal and figurative orgy of arts. For three weeks every August, all manner and types of alternative theater set up shop in every crevice of Edinburgh. According to wikipedia, there were 261 venues last year and over one million tickets sold.

Well, Edinburgh has had 60 years to get to its level of madness. Capital Fringe just wrapped up its second year and already can boast 120 arts groups putting on more than 500 performances in 30 venues over 11 days. 19,000 tickets sold! For a town whose main hobbies include politics and bureaucracies, we do pretty good.

So next year, take a chance. Buy a festival pass and see as much theater as you can, or just close your eyes and point to one show and see what happens.

Thing 38: The Wolf Trap

Sometimes life throws perfect moments at you. Everything comes together in a great swirl of contentment, satisfaction, joy and peace. The night I met the Boyfriend comes to mind, when we both managed to say exactly the right thing, keep saying the right thing, telling just the right jokes and anecdotes to realize that this was gonna be something big. There was the time I made my first roasted chicken, one week after I turned 21, and it was juicy and shiny and and crispy, and I realized that this whole being-an-adult thing wasn't so bad. There was the night the week before the 2004 presidential election, when I was working on the campaign in Florida, and two friends and I went to the beach late at night. We stood looking at the ocean, and I remembered that for all the stress and hard work and sleepless nights, the tide would still come in and out every day. Everything was going to work out and move forward.

And there was the time I went to see Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion by myself at the Wolf Trap, two years ago.

I'd gone to the Friday night show on Memorial Day weekend in 2005, and no one would go with me, so I headed over by myself. I brought a simple supper of a turkey sandwich from the Safeway deli, a bag of chips, and a 22 oz Miller Lite. I found a spot near the top of the center lawn, sat down on my little blanket, and as the show began I munched my sandwich and sipped my big beer. The stars came out, Garrison took his stool out to center stage to tell us all about Lake Wobegone, and I leaned back in the grass, staring at the stars and listening to that steady, nostalgic monologue. I was content and at peace. Everything was as it should be.

In an attempt to recapture that moment of pure peace, I returned to see A Prairie Home Companion at the Wolf Trap on Friday, with Good Friend Lisa this time, and her new roommate.

I've already written briefly about Wolf Trap, so you may already know it is high on my list of things to do in the summer heat. And it is an easy tradition to start, as Garrison does a live broadcast of his NPR program from the Wolf Trap every Memorial Day weekend, and a dress rehearsal performance on the preceding Friday night. I met GFL and her roommate in the theater, having staked out a small square of lawn. I had brought a cooler filled with arugula-red onion-feta fritatas (without which, I would never have run into ?uestlove), as well as white chocolate macadamia cookies, and tiny individual bottles of pinot grisio. GFL brought some blanched asparagus, about three dozen shiny bright green stalks, and a small container of homemade wasabi mayonnaise for dipping.

We ate and drank and laughed, enjoying the mild summer air and our beautiful setting. The Wolf Trap is a national park for the performing arts, and the main attraction is a huge wooden stage, with a sheltered section of real seats and a sprawling lawn above that for those of us in the cheap seats. I actually prefer the lawn, as I think it gives you more freedom to come and go, the ability to picnic and drink wine, and a better chance to commune with your neighbors. Our neighbors to the front of us, for example, were a large group of young adults in their mid-twenties, apparently college friends and lovers, and then one of their moms. They kept going to their picnic basket and pouring deep cups of straight gin. The mom was hammered by the show's end, and one the guys couldn't find his flip flops when it came time to leave.

Our neighbors to our left enjoyed singing along, and luckily they could harmonize with what was going on on stage, so it wasn't even irritating. The man had brought his harmonica, and accompanied the star spangled banner with it, with perfect pitch and musical warbles.

The Prairie Home gang did a slew of political sketches and jokes, and poked fun of the musically inclined fauna that might live in a national park for the arts. The musical guest was the Wailin' Jennys, a quartet of three women and one man, a variety of stringed instruments (violin, bass, guitar, ukulele), and beautiful, haunting melodies in three part harmony. The other guest of the evening was Billy Collins, who read his comedic and moving poems in a monotonous dead pan, adding to the inevitably funny observations about lanyards or how your dog really feels about you. You can listen to the live broadcast here, but it will differ slightly from what I heard at the dress rehearsal, mostly tightened up to meet the time requirements of a live show.

And finally, as the moon rose high into the clear night, Garrison took the stage all by himself to tell us the news from Lake Wobegone. He told us about his home town's Memorial Day celebration, the VFW's ceremony honoring the fallen, and how one veteran, having forgotten to prepare his speech, simply winged it by saying "if ever there were a time for silence, it would be now." And he recalled how, as a child, everyone in the class had to memorize the Gettysburg Address, as it might fall on any one of them to recite it. And then he did, reciting the whole speech, in its simple eloquence, to the audience. And most of us realized that we'd never actually listened to it. Read it, skimmed it, perhaps even recited it, sure, but I mean really listened. To the beauty and the weight and the economy of words, their meaning then and how it still holds as much meaning now. The three of us by now had laid back in the grass, gazing up at the small dipper, letting that voice wash over us, full of too much asparagus and just enough cookies. And there it was...that perfect moment, once more.

Side Note: With a gusto that is both admirable and incredibly optimistic, the Boyfriend has decided he will be running a 5k in 18 minutes by the end of the summer. You can track his progress here. It promises to be both entertaining and incredibly foolhardy.