Posts Tagged ‘artist’

Seattle Celebrity News!

June 30, 2012

Editor’s Note:  Rik Deskin’s interview was posted here https://schn00dles.wordpress.com/category/seattle-celebrity-news/page/4/ about a year and a half ago.  Since then, Rik has followed through on his urge to promote comedy through his Odd Duck venue.  But the economics of the theater are quite bleak.  Producing live theater is for the faithful.  And when some artists involved behave like rabble, it can seem even bleaker.  Nevertheless, a person who ‘does’ something for what they believe in, that’s a little more than themselves, can always hold their head up.  Here’s a follow-up: 

Musing the Equation

A Behind-the-Scenes Look into the Economy of Live Theater

“A note about Odd Duck Studio to Comedians, Actors, Performers and Producers

Some of you know this. Some of you may be oblivious. I write this after spending several long hours in the Emergency Room with my 17-year old (for a possible concussion) and only a few hours of sleep. Don’t worry, he’s okay, but I’m now down $150 for the co-pay.

I am not independently wealthy. I am an unemployed actor. With a wife and four kids. Occasionally I do book acting work. Sometimes I work as a stagehand. Sometimes as a temp.

I started Eclectic Theater Company as a non-profit organization, hopeful that eventually, this company would provide me some income as the Producing Artistic Director. (I’m still working on that income part)

In 2006, my company, still all volunteer, took over management of the Odd Duck Studio. Primarily to have a venue where ETC could produce plays regularly and have a home, as well as be able to rent out the space to itinerant theater companies and co-produce Improv, Sketch and Stand-Up Comedy.

It’s been an uphill battle just to keep the doors open since the economy tanked in 2008. Since the beginning of the company, I have always given half of what was made at the box office or in donations to the performers and artists that work at my theater on anything I produced or co-produced. Sometimes sacrificing paying the rent on time (I do have to pay monthly rent for Odd Duck Studio: I’m not the owner), sometimes borrowing from my own family’s meager income to keep it afloat.

Which is why in May, I instituted a new policy on all productions and co-productions that were dependent on a box office split. The first $125 in the door paid the rent for the night. The second $125 would go to the performers. After that it would be a 50/50 split. But before anything was distributed, we would have to take 5% out of the overall gross for the Admissions Tax that must be paid to the City of Seattle.

Katie Morgan

These kinds of shows are risky to me. Sometimes they can sell-out, enabling everyone to walk away happy. Sometimes they barely meet the rent threshold. And I staff it with volunteers and spend volunteer time to market and try to sell tickets. It’s great for the other co-producer. All they have to do is promote the show and show up to perform. Which is far easier and less risky for them than renting the space at a flat rate and selling tickets and providing their own crew to run the box office, lights and sound.
Last year, a producer booked a large rental use of the Odd Duck Studio that would have covered our basic costs (rent and electricity) from May-July. They cancelled in May, leaving me scrambling to fill the dates with something that could possibly generate revenue. Right now we are two months behind in the rent.

I posted in all the Facebook groups that I’m in, that cover theatre, film, improv and stand-up to see if anyone wanted to rent space, produce or co-produce shows. Nothing. Only the sound of crickets. So I put together the Brown Bag Comedy Primetime Specials. I thought I was pretty clear in my original posting that this endeavor was solely dependent on box office revenue And that I would need the help of the Comics booked to promote their shows so that we can sell tickets so that I can pay the Comics. So far only two shows have made the rent and given something back to the Comics. I would much rather pay $74 to a headliner (I know that’s below Comedy Club rates) than $1.35. But that can only happen when tickets are sold and they don’t do that by themselves.

This brings up another point. Odd Duck Studio is not a Comedy Club. It is a theater run by Eclectic Theater Company, a non-profit organization. We don’t have a kitchen, restaurant or full bar to cover our costs like other venues. Our partial bar/concessions basically pays for itself most nights. The person behind the concessions counter only makes tips. Last night I made $4 between two shows. I think the most I’ve made is $35 in one night.

Here is my original post from May 22, 2012:

“Eclectic Theater Company at Odd Duck Studio is looking for Comedians for a series of Brown Bag Comedy Primetime Friday night specials throughout the summer. Two formats: Hour long special with two 15 minute Opener slots (one is the Host) and a 30 minute Feature. Ticket is $10. 50% of the box office (after 5% admissions tax) goes to the Comedians after rent threshold has been met ($125). That means when the show sells out (49 seats), 3 Comedians would be splitting up to $232.75.

90 minute special would be a traditional format with a MC/Opener (15 minutes), Feature (30 minutes) and Headliner (45 minutes). $15 Ticket with 3 Comedians splitting up to $349.12. Same applies with rent, etc above.

The splits would be proportional to performance time lengths.

Keep in mind that I’m a volunteer running a non-profit theater venue, so 50% is the maximum I can split on these shows in order to keep the doors open and I would need the help of the Comedians booked to actually promote and sell their shows. I know the door split is less than some Comedy Clubs, but that’s all I can offer for now.

I know it’s possible to do as demonstrated by Hari Kondabolu and Katie Morgan over the last two years.

With this all in mind I’m looking for serious Comedians willing to invest their time and effort to being on the rosters of these shows and making a little extra pocket change. As soon as the rosters are full for each show, I can begin listing them on Brown Paper Tickets and marketing. And if any savvy graphic creators want to design an image for a show or all the shows, a percentage can go to compensating that as well.

Show dates will be:

June 1, 8:30-9:30pm
June 15, 8-9:30pm
June 22, 8:30-9:30pm
June 29, 8-9:30pm
July 6, 8:30-9:30pm
July 13, 8-9:30pm
July 27, 8:30-9:30pm”

Why tell you this? Because I love Stand-Up Comedy as much as I love Theatre, Improv, Sketch Comedy and Film. Stand-Up has been a component of Eclectic Theater Company’s programming as early as 2007 when Blood Squad would bring in Comics from PROK to open the shows. It’s been a part of my life since I trained in Improv and Sketch, and observed Comics working at The Comedy Workshop in Houston back in 1988-1989. In December, 2010, there was a vacuum left by Giggles turning its back on Comedians. I wanted to help by offering a weekly open mic to help Comedians work their craft and give Comedians an easy venue to work with and sell-out (like Hari Kondabolu, Katie Morgan, Blood Squad and Yogi Paliwal) and help me keep the venue open as a place for all of us to work.

I want you to understand the economics. The business of the art. On nights like last night where the bulk of the tickets are sold through Brown Paper Tickets instead of over the phone or in person, I don’t see that money until the following weekend. On the evenings where we do sell enough so that I can give back to the performers, that money usually comes out of any cash sales that happen because I want to send Comics home with something.

Every once in a great while, I encounter an actor or a burlesque artist or a comedian that does not understand why I can’t pay them the rates they are accustomed to and that I wish I could pay them and they somehow think I’ve lied to them and am living it big off a show that sells less than half the 49 seat capacity. Ladies and Gentlemen, here is the truth. I do not make a penny (beyond potential tips) until we pass the $250 mark at the box office on any given night. And if rent needs to be paid, electricity, insurance, then I waive any possible pay for my time in order to keep the theater open and available.

So those open mic nights where no one buys a ticket and no one buys a beverage or snack? I eat that time and expense bussing or driving to and fro and the time to facilitate other performers cultivating their craft.

From this point on, you cannot say that I never explained it to you. This is my contract with all of you that choose to perform at my theater. I encourage anyone out there that thinks they can do it better than me and keep this venue open, then by all means the gauntlet is thrown. I’d love to have your help. If you are going to take a hit financially by coming to perform in a show that has no guarantee that it will sell, then don’t do it. I’m not the Mafia. I’m not going to twist your arm. I’m trying to build something long-term here that I am hopeful will eventually always pay everyone that works with my company.

Sincerely,

Rik Deskin”

Photos by Carl Nelson

From the Editor’s Perch…

June 24, 2012

Selling Art

Creativity and Sales

Posture is Everything

SELLING

Selling is a great teacher.  And one thing selling has taught me is that in order for people to part with their money, they have to feel certain.  People must feel certain that what you are offering is what they need.  And people must feel certain that you can provide what you are offering.  After that, you are dickering over cost.

Of course, each of these factors bleed into one another.  But, what they all have in common is this feeling of certainty

This presents problems for the marketing of Art.  Because Art is full of questionables, imponderables, unnamables, inscrutables, immeasurables, unfathomables… the list is long.  But all have one thing in common: ‘uncertainty’. 

Now whether people are buying something or giving money away, they still want this sense of certainty that their assets are not being wasted.  So how does one go about selling Art?

Well, the only thing more uncertain than Art might be people.  And traditionally people are sold by dressing them up in certainties.  You dress successful; you act successful; you speak successful; you move successful; you associate with success – you appear successful… and you stand your best chance of being purchased successfully, because you have made people most certain of your success.

Art is sold in much the same way.  What is absolutely undefinable, unfathomable and inscrutable is dressed up in the certainties.  Let’s see how this applies to the theater.

Your average regional theater purchases successful produced plays to present; it uses successful authors; it hires successful directors and actors and set, sound and lighting people.  Its productions take place in up to date venues located in the better part of town.  It struggles to become the most prominent (successful) theater in town.  The more successful the theater appears, the more money it is given.  And the more money it has, the less risk it can afford to take.  Because, the rule is, you only spend your money with certainty.

CREATIVITY

The creative artist creates.  They are not re-iterative.  They lack production tools, marketing brio…  Everything is a prototype.  Nothing goes into production.  Once something has been produced, then the artist’s job is done. 

The creative artist tends to spurn the trappings of success, because trappings are hindering, because they are already known quantities, because they are certain.   The artist’s job is to pursue what is uncertain, ineffable, unknowable and caste it in the certain.  For example, we cannot wholly know a person – but we can write their speech.  We can record how they act.  We can illuminate and give insight.  We can create the feeling of certainty.  “They feel so real,” an observer might say, or even, “I knew that person.”  From immanence (pagan) or transcendence (Judeo-Christian), but more likely from some of both such certainties are sculpted.  The creative artist sculpts certainty from risk.  And because money is shy of risk; money necessarily skirts the creative.  It is a very great artist indeed who can create the certain as a naked thing, and just walk them out of the sea.  Even the best often must dress them in some fashionable garb or another.

So, okay.  I’ll cut right to the chase and say, yes, money is good for Selling; but it’s bad for Creativity.  So the next time your hear your local Arts organizations lamenting the fact of there being no money out there for the Arts…  just think:  Maybe bad for them, but good for us!

Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

May 24, 2012

Even Broke Artists Have to Get Away Once in a While

 

Rita Takes a Short Vacation

“I got help from above (literally) and caught the eclipse on videoafter I have almost given up and was waiting to board the bus to Seattle:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQcTlUR_bf4

I am sure it took some divine intervention to thin out the clouds just in the right spot at the right moment, since I only was able to film a few seconds of it after walking around Wenatchee completely disgusted for hours. Every time I looked at the sky it was overcast and raining.

Just before boarding the bus back to Seattle I texted Eva saying that I wasted the trip for nothing, but she said, “It’s doing it now!” So I climbed up the stairs to the parking lot with a good view of the sky and sure enough – clouds parted just for a few moments so I could film the eclipse and be happy! No one else on my bus was able to catch it, I was the only one.

My trip started out not so good. I ordered a ticket to Leavenworth, because that was the only place the weather report said was going to be cloudy, partially sunny. First thing, as I got to the train station at about 8 am I had 50 min to kill and I was hungry and went to the only coffee shop around there that was open, but there was a huge bunch of school kids that ran up to order stuff before me, so I did indeed kill the 50 minutes, since that’s how long it took for that whole class to get their lattes. And to make the matters worse, the barista made a latte for a guy who was after me in line before I got mine. So I expected problems to continue. Sure enough, when I got off the bus in Leavenworth the sky was just as overcast as in Seattle. So I paid additional $26 and got back on the bus to Wenatchee.

I hated Wenatchee right away: first, a ditsy blond almost ran me over as I was crossing the street on the Walk light. Then I couldn’t find anything opened except a church where everyone was Mexican and everything was in Spanish. I kept walking, and finally found a restaurant that was open, and I had a long lunch. The soup was good, but the rest of the food was way horrible and way overpriced. I walked around downtown and on river trail after lunch. It was very overcast there too and started raining as I was just starting to enjoy my walk and filming the art exhibit. I went to the Wenatchee library to check my email and encountered the most disorganized and incompetent librarian on this planet. When I finally, after 3 times of coming back to the librarian’s desk and explaining to them how it would really be nice if they printed the guest access code on a little piece of paper with some instructions instead of just giving one a code that never worked, I finally got on line, but left immediately, because it smelled horribly of sweaty feet, booze and puke. There were no alternatives, everything in historic downtown Wenatchee was closed. I walked around enjoying the most stupid display windows I’ve ever seen hand painted sloppily on the glass. Like: “It’s good as gold but dirt cheap” and “Childrens clothing and tobacco” and “Tax tax can’t pay it sale”.

I did get involved for a few minutes in a treasure hunt game. I sat first at an outside table at a cafe that was closed, of course. And a minute later a woman sat down with a kid. They were a part of the game. There were 4 teams of kids. When they reached us a woman gave them a piece of paper with further instructions which said: “Take a penny and trade it for something bigger and better from a total stranger.” I was the only stranger for miles. So I ended up trading 3 pennies for 3 teams for nickles. In the case of the fourth team I gave them the useless map of Wenatchee. They were losing too, but because the map was bigger, and then they traded it for birch log from a bum who pulled it out of some display thing, they won that round, since it was the biggest damned thing that anyone dragged in. I wasn’t paying much attention, but, thinking back on it, I wish I filmed it all. It was so stupid, it was funny. There were no strangers anywhere on the avenue. I should have guessed! I was the only stranger in town. Well, it was purely by accident that I gave those kids the map. I got it at the library, but had no use for it and had no more nickles left.

I guess, looking back, I did have fun, even though, at the time, I didn’t think I did. I thought I was lonely and stuck somewhere weird. But as I was watching the mountains passing by my bus window, watching the trees and the old snow and the river go by, I realized how much I lived and experienced from 7 am until 7 pm. And how full of life and energy I was as compared to doing nothing, staying at home. Even though I was tired, when I got home, I was still energized, and still am at 1:25 am. I discovered a bit of truth about life as I followed through with my trip, determined that I was going to have fun, no, to be alive and present. And even though I lapsed into occasional self-pity, I still lived more fully than if I hadn’t done it at all.

So I discovered that it’s okay to be sad about unfulfilled stuff, but if one were truly opened, god opened up the clouds and let me have a few seconds of what I came here for – a shot of the eclipse. And everything was all right then, and the sight of the black circle creeping over the sun was awesome, even if it only lasted a couple of seconds.

The main thing I got out of it was: we need to venture out and have adventures. Being stuck in a rut is the worst thing ever. And the only thing we will regret on our deathbed is not making mistakes, but not making enough mistakes!”  – Rita

Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

May 8, 2012

Having Trouble Making Your Rent?  Buy a House!

What’s Rita up to now?  “I bid on a HUD house. The house is in Tacoma, and I won the bid. So what then? I guess I only won the bid because I was stupid. Now I’m supposed to buy it. So I guess I’m buying a house in Tacoma. The house is pretty cute, and it is supposedly cheap. Big yard, and two bedrooms upstairs and a room downstairs. I am thinking of making it a commune.”

Sounds good.  How do you arrange the financing?  “Oh yes, financing… Well, you get two bank accounts. You get some of those credit card offers with 0% interest for a year and deposit a few thousand into acct 1. Then you transfer it to bank 2. Then you use bank 2 acct for downpayment. All the loan officer asks is the statement showing where the money came from to bank 2. He hasn’t asked about bank 1.   And Hud usually pays all the closing costs.

I started a blog to help poor people to buy a house, lots is explained in it:  http://homebuyerwa.blogspot.com ”

Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

April 17, 2012

Losing Focus

“I don’t know if that’s because I’m certifiably insane or there is another reason, but every time I have a few glasses of vino, this thought pops into my mind, that I have a higher purpose, a special destiny. That I’m very special,  and my destiny is huge, enormous, all encompassing, the mankind saving kind.  And I pause between about the 3rd and the 6th glass wondering where the fuck this thought comes from.
I try to slow down and chew down on that thought like on a juicy leaf and get no sense out of it still, but the juice is somehow absorbed into my blood and I start getting impressions, feelings of being timeless, being forever, and having something to accomplish somehow in the mean while. I grind down on that juicy and seductive thought, lusting for its essence, for information.
Time becomes relative, and I think back on the Einstein theory I tried to understand at school, I still don’t understand it. But I feel it may be indeed relative, and the way it all darkens outside the window and the voices of kids playing a block away seem closer and louder, and the air seems to smell fresher. Everything becomes way funner. Is it the alcohol? Shit, I drank like a fish for half a century, that’s not it.
Oh, my daughter says, “funner is not a word,” but here it is, I typed it, and it doesn’t give me the wavy misspell line, so I guess, my daughter is behind times now, was, when she said it was not a word, because it must have become a word in the mean while.
Some guy said to me once, “You can say anything, any stupid thing, and you make if feel like candy in your mouth.” Is it an important talent to say nothing in a way that makes one interested? Does the world need it? Don’t we have enough BS?
I try to talk about things that I think matter to the world, then I get depressed when no one cares. The important things like politics, religion, taxes. I try then to say those important things in seemingly unimportant context, it helps – if people can’t connect it right away to anything important they just have fun and enjoy what I’m saying. They don’t get all righteous on me then and start criticizing what I said. Not right off the bat. Because it takes them a while to realize I’m actually saying something important. Of course, once they do, they find everything wrong with it.
There is a way a story should flow, I feel it in my bones. It should pick you up and carry you along to where you want to know where it’s going, and when it drops you into place like a round peg into a square hole, you should feel no adjustment pain.
I wonder if it hurts the caterpillar when it is inside its cocoon changing shape. Does it feel pain? And if it does, does the butterfly remember the pain?
I feel, we humans are transforming daily like the butterflies, by smaller degrees, and we do feel pain every time. What I want to know – what do we emerge as? Is there an emergence, not to be confused with an emergency, mind you, but an emergence – a new step in a state of being? How many emergences (Hey, that’s not a word yet – the computer underlined it in red squiggly line. But how else do you say emergence in plural? Why doesn’t it exist? Does no one think one can successfully emerge more than once?) are there?”  – Rita

Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

April 15, 2012

Loopholes

“I have a serious bone to pick with American justice. It is so stretchable and adjustable, that at this point I don’t think there’s any meat left in its body, it’s pulled so tight and full of holes, officially called ‘loop holes’, to make them look slightly better than just holes.

If you were following my roommates’ saga, I called the cops on the last one a couple of times. The last time I had a friend over to be a witness. So when Ben the roommate walked through the living room to go to the kitchen, I had my feet up on a chair blocking the way. As he neared the natural barrier he frowned and growled, “I’m going thru,” and I said, “Ask politely and say ‘please'”, but he replied, “Fuck you,” pushed my feet off the chair and went to the kitchen. My friend exclaimed, “Assault! Physical contact!” So I called the cops. One of the cops said, “There is a provision in the law – you’re allowed to move someone out of your way,” and the cops didn’t do anything and left. Well, a few days later, my friend tried to explain to the policeman who came to arrest him at his place of residence why he shoved his roommate, “I was only moving her out of the way. The policeman in Central District told me it was allowed.” The law adjustment in CD didn’t work in North Seattle, and my friend had to spend the night in jail.”  – Rita

Photo by Carl Nelson

Travelling Expenses

April 15, 2012

Editor:  Time to catch up with Paul.  Not hard, as he’s not moving very fast…

Taken on the set of The Divine Marigolds with Lorraine Montez as Ruby Marigold.

Climbing out of this mire is so hard
The past clings to my strength, trying to make me stay
To face the opposite and slip into the ease that would be death
And then there is you!
I am not sure which I want, when you cast your cloud over my heart
… I am not sure if the knife needs to be twisted, or removed
Would love win, or would I be drowned in the blood of this impasse
It’s going nowhere this debate, me, the protagonist, me, the antagonist.
I have no say, I just listen.
                                                                     – P Eenhoorn C 2012
 
Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

April 9, 2012

Rita’s Life Further Dramatized

"American Roomates"

 As if Rita’s life were not dramatic enough, it has now been further ‘dramatized’ into a short play, “American Roomates”.  To read this roman de clef, go to: http://ritasplays.blogspot.com/2012/03/just-finished-now-american-roommates.html 

Photo by Carl Nelson

Work, work, work… with Rita Andreeva

March 23, 2012

Editor:  And!  If you’ve been wondering what Rita has been up to:

Rita Tries to Stay Calm and Act in an Even-Handed Way, But…

“My last roommate was Jewish. You see after I had a schizophrenic roommate who thought Jews were after him, I decided to find a Jewish roommate. Because if a race of people is after conspiracy theorists like that guy, than they all must be good people. Well, now I understand why the Germans were so easily persuaded by Hitler during the World War II.

My first mistake was not making him fill out a rental agreement, where I’d have to specify EVERYTHING – like: he inspected everything very carefully and is happy with the conditions of the place and the price, he promises to vacate immediately in case of conflict, he promises to clean up after himself or vacate without argument, etc.

The first morning of his stay he started bickering about the price! He argued relentlessly and managed to get the price down a whole $50. Even when I pointed out that I don’t think we’ll get along, because he, obviously, didn’t respect me, since he didn’t clean up after himself the very first morning, which is why I don’t want to rent to him at all, no matter at what price, he still stayed and got the discount! (Anyone knows how I can join Arial Brotherhood?)

During his stay he’d argue and argue and argue about everything until you give in, or get mad and call the cops, who will only make you feel like a fool and tell you that you should grin and bear it and go in your room and let him make messes with my stuff, because he has the legal right to stay and use the kitchen until you legally go through eviction process. So the cops left, and B. continued to spill grease and crumbs all over the stove and kitchen counters, to never clean the toilet or the manly urine fog forming on the wall by the toilet (now, he said his contribution to the bathroom cleaning was that he never took showers),  he’d decide to cook at 11pm and make noises and disgusting food smells, and he kept me up all night until 4am discussing stupid stuff, then he kept my guest up all night talking to him until 4am, which totally ruined my plans for the evening. 

And thus he lived on, cooking smelly, greasy meats and sausages, waking me up by the smell and noise as early as 7am and taking forever, like 3 whole hours to cook and eat his breakfast! He kept on using my toilet paper and napkins for two month, until I finally had to ask him to buy his own and keep yours where he can’t get to it. 
He showed me no respect for being his elder and better educated, and he would not be able to take constructing criticism at all, trying to make me look bad instead, like: “What do you mean your cookie sheet is covered with grease and black thick soot? where? Oh, that, oh it’s nothing. Why do you make such a big deal of a little thing like that! You are unreasonably picky! So what i didn’t notice it. What’s the big deal….” These conversations could go on until the cows come home, until I stopped talking to him and went to my near-room. Naturally, I preferred avoiding him and leaving him notes: “Please flush the toilet, you left poop in it second day in a row… You left crumbs and grease on the kitchen counter again!” to which he emailed me, “Stop leaving me stupid notes, I’m not going to read them anyway.”
He thinks he is god’s gift to women. Ugh. So he brought wine over one evening and tried to get me drunk, in the hope that I’d see him the way he sees himself after a few glasses. I don’t know what he’d do if I actually got drunk, I never got that far and kept my wits about, nursing the same glass, but I sure wouldn’t want to find out… He got drunk, however, and proceeded to take off his shirt, saying, “I want you’re woman’s opinion, is the hair on my back attractive?” and posed his upper half, with a 3/4 turn and flexing his biceps. I was actually diplomatic in my response, “Just because I hate hairy backs doesn’t mean that there are women out there who love them.” Eventually, at about 2am I ran out of patience and had to yell at him and threaten to call the cops to chase him away from me and into his room.

He finally left yesterday morning, not without a great fuss and ado the night before about some plastic measuring cups of his that I hid, and that I was a bitch, and a wretched woman, so I called the cops, who were very annoyed with me for calling them again and made me pay B. $3 for the cups. I stayed up all night listening to music, drinking beer and smoking, hoping it would disturb his last night’s sleep a little. After a while I felt a little bad, and put a rolled up towel under his door. I shouldn’t have bothered – he didn’t notice or didn’t care, and was his usual asshole self in the morning.

I can’t believe he’d actually fix his stupid breakfast despite the fact that I sat next to the kitchen smoking a cigarette! Any normal human being would just leave and splurge on eating out this one time.

He left a broken egg on the kitchen floor, refusing to clean it up on purpose, and played a fucked up head game with me about whether he would return my keys or not while he cooked his crap.

What is it about all those minority groups – they bitch when you stereotype them, but then behave in the exact manner they so hate people to accuse them of?”  – Rita

Photo by Carl Nelson

Travelling Expenses

February 15, 2012

“Life of a thousand cuts continues”…

Production Photo

“It’s a bit of a drive to Portland, but as we have nothing shooting regularly in Seattle because there really is no incentive here to soak up the billions that filmmakers are spending in Portland, Vancouver and Toronto it’s Portland or bust.

The drive down is mis-timed and Ron Ronald D. Carrier and I get there two hours early. Okay just run lines. Getting close to call time and Bruce Weech sends me a text telling me to go home and not to bother because he has Nailed It. Ha. So we roll in sign in wait a few minutes and sit in the hole and on deck. They are looking for a Cockney or genuine European accent so I have a chance as my cockney was learnt as a young man who loved Derek and Clive as well as all of the Pythons, and I worked on Speak Not with Hugh.Douglas.Berry.

Audition time, I run through the two scenes and one of the casting people says, Okay we will see you back here at 6.20. I of course, quite surprised as this is a first for me at this point reply, That’s hours away, I suppose I could get drunk. They think that’s an option If I want to. Bruce shouts us to coffee, and I tell them that I already have a call back time. They look at me as they figure I am trying to Psych them. I am the only one called back so the guys finally believe me.

The callback is a dream it goes well, on the drive back my agent calls and says They want to put you on Hold. I say fine. Next day they put me on available and look for any conflicts. None. Thursday comes and I have a feeling that no news is bad news. My agent emails and says that they have released me.

That simple, nothing else, they have released you. So how do I handle that, the part was one that you could sink your teeth into, not big but subtle with its own back-story already. So how do I handle that? I say wait till you see The Dead Men all of you and you realize you have stepped over ME, WTF were you thinking?

I know that sounds self centered but hey, considering the place I am in I have to protect myself, I want nothing else. I have no job and all I want is to work in the craft, with my craft that I have taken a lifetime to develop. So another rare chance goes by, but I gave it every chance. How painful this process can be at times can only be felt by doing! So the life of a thousand cuts continues…”  – Paul Eenhoorn


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