Showing posts with label stage scenes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stage scenes. Show all posts

Mar 7, 2016

Remembering David Rakoff

In 2012 I saw David Rakoff give this talk and performance, three months before he died. I just heard it again, rebroadcast on the radio, and found a video of it that I've put at the bottom of this post. A lot of what he says resonates with me both as a person of difference and as a person of dis/ability:
It was an exercise in humiliation and trying to make myself as invisible as possible. 
That was how he felt going to dance classes as a young man. That was how I felt in gym class as a kid. The difference between us that as a kid in gym class, I was coming to terms with disability, and the young David Rakoff wasn't. Not yet.

On becoming dis/abled, he says:
Everybody loses ability—everybody loses ability as they age. If you're lucky, this happens over the course of a few decades.
David Rakoff's "if your lucky" referred to his cancer and resulting string of operations, the last of which left him with a flail limb, meaning that he could neither move nor feel anything in his left arm. His descriptions for accommodating to this disability, though different from those that a person with low vision performs, are pretty familiar in their perfunctory absurdity:   
If I retained anything from dancing, it's a physical precision that certainly helps in my new daily one-armed tasks. They're the same as my old two-armed chores. They're not epic or horrifying. Some of them don't even take much longer, but they're all to one degree or another, more annoying than they used to be, requiring planning, strategy, and a certain enhanced gracefulness. 
Oral hygiene: Hold the handle of the toothbrush between your teeth the way FDR or Burgess Meredith playing The Penguin bit down on their cigarette holders. Put the toothpaste on the brush, recap the tube, put it away... Then reverse the brush and put the bristles in your mouth, proceed. 
Washing your right arm: Soap up your right thigh in the shower, put your foot up on the edge of the tub, and then move your arm over your soapy lower limb back and forth like an old-timey barbershop razor strop. 
Grating cheese: Get a pot with a looped handle, the heavier the better. This will anchor the bowl that you want the cheese to go into. Put the bowl into the pot. Now take a wooden spoon and feed it through the handle of the grater and the loop of the pot, and then tuck the end down into the waistband of your jeans. (Clean underpants are a good idea.) Jam yourself up against the kitchen counter and go to town.
In memory, here's David Rakoff's complete talk and performance:



After he died, This American Life ran an hour-long tribute to David Rakoff's life and work. Listen here.

Feb 29, 2016

Opera glasses ain't just for operas anymore

Tonight my friend invited me to a show in someone's house. It was a mix of dance and theatre and other performing arts. Each performer took the stage, just 15 feet away from me, but I couldn't see a thing. And as the rest of the audience laughed at everything happening onstage, I sat there wishing I could see what was so funny.

I see lots of performance, and this happens all the time. And while I've learned to bring binoculars to big theaters and outdoor spaces, this was a show in a living room—we were right there, so close to each other. Wouldn't it have been weird for me to whip out these opera glasses to see something 15 feet away? Even in a huge auditorium, someone sitting nearby will poke fun at me: "What are you trying to do? Read the tags on the actors' trousers?" And then I either have to make that person feel like a jerk by outing myself as visually impaired, or sit there feeling like a freak for being kinda blind.

Then there's this thing: My being a man peering at a bunch of female performers through binoculars has this other creepy connotation. So opera glasses or no, I am damned.

Thankfully my friend gave me the play-by-play of what I missed after the show. And in some sense, I'm not actually missing anything. I just see it differently. 

May 25, 2015

Double Dissed...Again

Today, I fell off the stage. Twice. I can't really walk right now.

This happened because I was working blindfolded and tried setting things in ne places. Doing that threw off my spatial awareness.

Good news: My leg doesn't feel broken, just sprained. And I'm enjoying the irony of giving myself a disability while making a show about having a disability. 

Feb 28, 2015

Blue Way

We had some nice breakthroughs in rehearsal today. And then we realized that Blue Man Group did it all first: