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09/07/2004: "Lost and Found Weekend"
As is evident by my mini-disappearance, it's Fringe Festival time again.
Now, I could spend a paragraph or two responding to your angry emails about
how you fired up your PC this morning just find Friday's Thoughtless and
how you're pissed off because you paid major bucks for a shirt so you
expect me to post regularly, or I could tell you what I saw over the weekend.
First the bad news. The Fringe doesn't seem to have the sort of electrical
charge that it had last year and the year before. Maybe it's because the
Fringe has been combined with the Live Arts Festival. What does
this mean? I have no idea and I've had it explained to me at least half
a dozen times. One result of the combination is that the print in the guide
books is now very tiny and you have to flip the books seven
ways to Sunday to find the show that you're looking for.
Also, this year's festival is more "geographically diverse", which means
that, instead of most of the action taking place in Olde City, the shows
have been spread out. Bad idea. The Late Now Caberet, for example, is
located in Northern Liberties - around 2nd and Brown Streets. Maybe next
year we can all catch some shows in The Badlands?
The good news is that there are still plenty o' nuggets of gold in dem dar
hills. You just have to mine a little harder to find 'em.
Saturday night I caught the latest production from the Valerie Solanas*
Players (The folks who gave us Wake Up Paddington, You Worthless Shit
and The Night Bleeds Teardrops At The Funeral For Our Souls or : Me and
My Gay Gothic Friends), Telepathic Alcoholic Teenage Punk Rock
Psycho Sluts. Here's a small taste of what you missed:
Tabby: [Upon learning that Capt. Bill is really just a cabin boy] So, what
does a cabin boy do?
Captain Bill: Washes the Captain's socks, runs errands for him, that sort
of thing.
Tabby: So you're basically the Captain's bitch, right?
Captain Bill: Yarrrrr.
Great play. My nephew, Jeff, and I almost pissed ourselves a couple of
times.
Spider: Mmmmm…It's still got that new gun smell.
After exiting "the sluts", we went around the corner and caught a perfornce
by the band Model, whom I thought were great, but whom Jeff thought
were just pretty good. I'm right, he's wrong. Go see this band if you get
the chance.
After finding some food, Jeff and I made the long trek to the Cabaret.
Sound problems plagued that night's show, so we split around midnight
(Thanks for the lift, Dave).
Sunday saw us awake at the crack of nine, in order to drag our sorry asses
deep into South Philly to catch the Pagan Pride Day festivities. I
didn't wanna miss this, mainly because it was being held at Sacks Playground.
That meant that the Pagan's would be having their celebration in a field
bordered by African-Americans to the north, Vietnamese-Americans to the west,
and Italian Americans to the east and south. Jeff and I figured that it
would be worth the walk to see the looks and on the locals' faces.
Just as we arrived, the sky clouded over and it looked like it was going
to rain. I turned to Jeff and said "Jeebus, you'd think at least one
of these witches would know a spell to ward off rain." At which point the
clouds parted, the sun came out, and we stopped making fun of the
attendees.
As a bonus, we not only picked up nifty-boss-neato pamplets that explain
the difference between Druidry and Wicca (I carry mine with me wherever I
go. Just in case I'm ever called upon to settle a dispute beteen a Druid
and a Witch. Increase the peace, peeps.), but we also just to witness two
women dance with scimitars balance on their heads (I'm not sure if that
falls under "skill" or "hobby".)
Later that day we caught a performance of Fathom. What can I say
about this play other than that it was incredible? Fathom is about
a boy who can breathe underwater and it serves as sort of a "brother" piece
to SaBooge's other great play, Hatched (Which is about a woman born
with wings). Oh, I guess I could say that, by the time you read this,
Fathom will have moved on to Ireland. Sorry.
We headed back home early to work on our trading cards.
Early Monday afternoon, the folks at the Well Fed Artist Gallery
opened their door to find Jeff and I, cards in hand. I traded a Rick
Santorum Card for the card you see above of Big Bird with a gun. The back
of the card says that it was drawn by Andrew Hoffmann, whose web site is
here. Thanks for the card, Andrew.
After catching a few more free shows, we returned home and passed out.
The Fringe runs all the way through the 18th, so expect lots of updates.
* Valerie Solanas was the author of the S.C.U.M. manifesto. She was the
subject of the film I Shot Andy Warhol - probably because she shot
Andy Warhol.
