Thursday, January 9, 2014

Could Denton Welch's "In Youth Is Pleasure" inspire queer youth of today?

In Youth is Pleasure by Denton Welch

Set mainly in the environs of an upscale hotel in the British countryside at which Orvil is staying with his mildly effete wealthy father and two condescending older brothers, Denton Welch’s mid-20th-Century novel  In Youth Is Pleasure chronicles the vibrant inner life of Orvil Pym, a sensitive and imaginative teenage boy who is just coming of age. The narrative offers a seemingly unrelated sequence of events, built around the various illicit pleasures Orvil experiences over the course of his summer vacation after a debilitating first year at boarding school. Left to the endlessly entertaining devices of his own amusement by his distant father and annoying elder siblings (whose reaction to Orvil’s presence ranges from teasing to embarrassment to total disregard to fraternal protection – the one closer in age is relatively kind if a bit gruff, while the eldest is the most overbearing, fear-inducing, and cold), Orvil explores the hotel, its grounds, and surrounding countryside without supervision.

Over the course of the novel’s 152 pages, Orvil engages in various activities that could be described as transgressions against the ‘normative’ expectations of male teenage behavior. For example, he steals a tube of lipstick from a department store, then hides it in the back of a drawer in his hotel room, only to coat his young lips with the cheap sticky waxy-tasting paint several chapters later while admiring his mirror, before applying it freely over his bare body as if it were tribal war paint, encircling his nipples with the bright red pigment, creating gash marks alongside his ribs and forehead, etc., then dancing about wildly in his hotel room before scurrying frantically to wipe it off, jolted into action by his elder brother’s door knocks.
Other examples of Orvil’s ‘queer’ behavior include his breaking into a Catholic Church and becoming drunk on stolen altar wine while exploring the various nooks and crannies of the church including the inside pockets of the neatly-hung choir robes, and his fascination with a book in the hotel lobby dedicated to physical exercise that features photographs of semi-naked male athletes demonstrating the movements. Most beguiling for this reader was Orvil’s rainy day interlude with a ruggedly sunburnt parson in a cottage in the woods that begins with an invitation to warm himself by the wood stove, climaxes in his exploration of the feeling of the inside of the parson’s leather shoes that he’d been instructed to polish, and ends in Orvil’s binding the priest’s hands and feet with white rope before a rapid no-turning-back exit in spite of the cleric’s pleas for him to return on the following day. More innocuous passages narrate Orvil’s delight in finding the perfect broken China saucer to buy at an antique store, or in taking afternoon tea in the hotel lobby after an afternoon spent canoeing alone, in which a dive into the river precipitated the joy of weightlessness amidst the flowing water, followed by thrilling heat of the sun as he lay on the riverbank to dry.

What makes the novel most engaging is the way that Welch’s seductive, evocative prose captures the delights of youth objectively yet with palpable balminess: the writing – in third person omniscient voice – allows the reader to indulge in the unjaded feeling of interacting with an endlessly alluring world that is seemingly full of possibility, but is nevertheless clouded by the constricting feeling of social expectation that becomes ever more omnipresent with the encroachment of adulthood.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

2014 marks the 50th Anniversary of the birth of gay theater.

In 1964, Lanford Wilson's "The Madness of Lady Bright" and Robert Patrick's "The Haunted Host" opened at the Caffe Cino in Greenwich Village. These two groundbreaking plays paved the way for subsequent GLBTQ theater. Published by the Gay and Lesbian Review, Worldwide, my essay explains how these plays did more than just open the door for gays on stage: by making visible and public a new liberated consciousness, they helped open the closet door in general, as well.
Robert Patrick and William Hoffman in
“The Haunted Host,” December 1964 production.

Tom Bigornia, Neil Flanagan, and Lucy Silvay in
“The Madness of Lady Bright.”
Photo by Conrad Ward from the 1964 revival.


Click Here
to read the article.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

"Fear Up Harsh" at the Adrienne Arsht Center elicits laughter and tears, but most importantly, asks its audience to interrogate itself


Using the power of Brecht's Alienation-effect, a blackout splits open, cracked by the sounds of war – semi-automatic rifle shots, multiple bombs exploding including a sonic BOOM! so loud that perhaps the elderly members of the audience should have been forewarned, and voices screaming through the mayhem as two silhouettes hold onto one another, crying out in hopeful prayer despite the wounds their rugged military bodies have endured – these volatile sounds – set off further by strobe lights, darkness, and the image of two soldiers, one injured big-boned marine in the arms of a smaller darker woman in beat-up fatigues, who comforts him through the chaos with an alternatingly deep and high-pitched voice that could only come from a frightened yet valiant human being striding immanent fatality, a panicked shrieking pieta – this image marked the opening scene of Carbonell Award-winning playwright Christopher Demos-Brown’s new offering Fear Up Harsh, jarring audience members artfully into the brutal reality of the combat zones that U.S. veterans and their enemies have experienced in their real lives in Iraq and Afghanistan over the past twelve years.
Without giving away the ending: the play tells the story of a permanently disabled marine whose post-war treatment of the female soldier who rescued him in battle by pulling him to safety through the aforementioned war zone, is, to put it mildly, less-than-noble. Yet the play calls the concept of “heroism” into question in a double fashion. It contrasts the wounded and medaled veteran family man Rob Wellman (played sympathetically by Shane Tanner) with his less fortunate subordinate, court-martialed lesbian Army soldier Mary Jean Boudreaux (played in a tour-de-force performance by Karen Stephens). And it further contrasts Wellman’s bravery rescuing his comrades in battle with the inhumane torture techniques his company used under orders during their “tour” in Iraq. Perhaps most interesting, in the scene that graphically depicts this, even the most sympathetic character in the play, Mary Jean Boudreaux, is complicit, as she urges her comrades to intensify their barbaric behavior.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Book review of "Staging Social Justice: Collaborating to Create Activist Theatre" by Norma Bowles and Daniel-Raymond Nadon, eds.

CLICK HERE to read my book review in the Gay & Lesbian Review, Worldwide of "Staging Social Justice: Collaborating to Create Activist Theatre," a new anthology edited by Norma Bowles and Daniel-Raymond Nadon.

Staging Social Justice: Collaborating to Create Activist Theatre
Edited by Norma Bowles and Daniel-Raymond Nadon
Southern Illinois University Press.  328 pages, $35.

IN 1991, Fringe Benefits Theater Company co-founder and artistic director Norma Bowles began collaborating with homeless queer youth in Los Angeles to devise original theater pieces depicting the sometimes brutally harrowing, often boldly inspiring actualities of their young lives. These powerful early pieces were performed at Highways Performance Space as well as at area high schools. They were acclaimed by critics and community alike, and Sir Ian McKellen himself narrated the film Surviving Friendly Fire about the company’s unconventional process. A subsequent project, Cootie Shots, resulted in a play tour and ensuing anthology that was groundbreaking in that it brought GLBT stories into elementary schools throughout the U.S. as early as 1999.
To read more of the review, CLICK HERE

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

"Queering Ethnicity and Shattering the Disco: Is There an Enduring Gay Ethnic Dance?", published by Oxford University Press

My essay "Queering Ethnicity and Shattering the Disco: Is There an Enduring Gay Ethnic Dance?" is now available at Oxford University Press Handbooks Online. The essay can be found by clicking HERE

ABSTRACT: Exploring the ontological politics of disco, this chapter historically explains the use of improvised social dancing in the formation of an alternative ethnicity among gay men and lesbians. The chapter argues that improvised social dancing (and disco in particular) has helped create a shared sense of culture for gay people that mimics ethnogenesis, insofar as disco offered an oppressed group a shared sense of belonging, communality, and identity. Like traditional ethnic dances, disco (and its progeny—techno, house, trance, tribal, etc.) perpetuates not only aesthetics, but also belief structures, linguistic/behavioral patterns, and social relations by providing a space wherein queer interpersonal and social bonds have been created and sustained. In turn, these bonds have contributed to the construction of lines of descent and inheritance, as well as shared ideas about common ancestry and history that parallel ethnic configurations of kinship.

Lanford Wilson's "Fifth of July" directed by Darren Blaney, Virginia Princehouse Allen Theater, Pomona College Department of Theatre & Dance, Fall 2017

Some production photos of the 2007 production of Lanford Wilson's Fifth of July that I directed at Pomona College. 

Cast:
Ken: Danny Zucker
Jed: Alexander Glassmann
June: Molly McKinney... Read More
John: Chris Coughlin
Gwen: Caroline Almy
Sally: Annie Frietas
Shirley: Karla Davenport
Weston: AJ Krane

Direction, Set, & Lighting Design:
Darren Blaney
Costume Design:
Suzanne Schultz Reed

This studio production ran in late November 2007, and received a tremendously appreciative response from the community. Danny Zucker and Alex Glassmann both received awards from the Kennedy Center for achievement in acting, and the entire ensemble received a commendation from the Kennedy Center for excellence in ensemble playing. It was truly a magical experience working with these talented young actors. 

Additional shots can be found by scrolling onto the next page by clicking "read more"

Friday, September 20, 2013

YouTube excerpts from the 2004 production of my one human show, "The Bird Club: Letter to Sandra Bernhard"


excerpt 1 from "The Bird Club" including 'Simple, Proud, Wasted'

excerpt 2 from "The Bird Club" including 'Another Aging Catholic Queen'

excerpt 3 from "The Bird Club" including 'Querida' & Folk Song for Sandy

excerpt 4 from "The Bird Club" including "Song for the Radical Fairies"



2004 PRESS RELEASE

The Bird Club: Letter to Sandra Bernhard


Written and performed by Darren Blaney

Directed by Kristina Goodnight, Jeremy Karafin, and Marilee Talkington
Twice produced in San Francisco (at Shotwell Studios & the Phoenix Theater in the SF Fringe Festival, 2001), and more recently staged at Works San Jose, Darren will breathe new life into this one-human show The Bird Club: Letter to Sandra Bernhard on May 15 at the Broadway Playhouse in Santa Cruz. 

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Unphased by years of painstaking Kabbalah study, with her new MDNA Tour DVD, Madonna proves she's still the ultimate Material Girl

After seeing Madonna's new MDNA tour DVD last night, I'm not sure I will continue to consider myself a "fan" of her work. Of course I will always admire her as a performer, and I do see some *slight* growth in her spirituality since 1991. But the main message seems to be, "I want you to love me. More than you do Lady Gaga please, because I'm the real queen and she's a fake. If you don't believe me, please just recognize on my behalf that endless consumerism is wonderful. And I have a right to do it since I'm rich rich rich. Hell I can even hire double-jointed dancers if I want to, and require them to do routines that will inevitably result in major premature arthritis! Love is a good thing, and so is dancing free. Only when dancing to my songs will you feel this free. Especially if you're on MDMA. And go ahead and swear a lot and threaten people with guns, especially if you live in Miami. Oh and p.s. by the way, I haven't aged a day! Ta!"

That said, I truly enjoyed the Like a Virgin vaudeville torch singing moment, which was staged a la Marlene Dietrich. The melody was slowed down substantially and modulated into a minor-key variation, which proved to be a wise and lovely move, as it added a nostalgic
melancholic feeling to a song that had previously been about maintaining a feeling of youth. For the song, M bravely wore nothing but her hallmark black lace agent provocateur pantigirdle, which allowed us to witness both the stunning discipline that she has apparently brought to her physical upkeep, and also, the inevitability of the body's decline no matter the hard work. Her velvety singing, multi-contoured and even growly at times, was accompanied only by a tuxedo-clad dark-skinned pianist and the sounds of the crowd's delight. The wistfulness worked for me here because, regardless of the ironic nature of M's salacious wardrobe choices (some might say she looked like an unashamed washed up hooker in that outfit... certainly she looks further than ever from "vestal" or "immaculate"), it functioned as one of the few moments in the show that Madonna seemed to be acknowledging her age with poignant candor, fearlessness, and depth. While performing this vintage reworked song, Madonna touched herself in her "ageless" nether regions and writhed around sensually on the floor, reaching greedily like a rookie-turned-professional-drag-queen-stripper for the crumpled dollars and other large bills that front-row audience members carelessly tossed onto the stage. I thought this part showed real emotional connection, honesty, and spiritual growth.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

With both cast and content, Lee Daniels' "The Butler" demonstrates the importance of the "small role"


Last night, Larry and I went to see Lee Daniels’ new film, The Butler at Fort Lauderdale’s Gateway Theater. The Gateway, a vintage theater established in 1951 whose lobby features classic film stills from Hollywood’s “Golden Era,” seemed the perfect venue at which to see a star-studded film with historic subject matter. Having been moved by Daniels’ Precious in a small movie house in Claremont CA during its run in 2009, having listened to good reviews about the film from elder family members who lived through the eras it depicts, and knowing that the film featured Colman Domingo, an actor whom I greatly admire, my expectations of the film were quite high. (I’ve been a fan of Domingo’s work since 2004, when I was fortunate to see him perform in three Bay Area productions within the space of about a year: a workshop production of his rousing and heartfelt one-man show A Boy and His Soul at Thick Description, his admirable ensemble performance in the documentary play The People’s Temple at Berkeley Rep, as well as a fabulously supple, precise, dynamic performance as harlequin-clad Lavatche at CalShakes’ 2004 production of All’s Well that Ends Well. Domingo’s brilliance building the scene-stealing foppish clown with every subtly responsive vocal inflection, vivid yet pliable facial expression, and spontaneous physical gesture that harmonized specificity of the joints with lithe intentional muscularity remains one of my absolute favorite Shakespearean performances to date. In fact, I still share anecdotes about Domingo’s simultaneous illuminative character creation and generous ensemble playing in these stage moments when I teach Introductory Acting, because to me they serve as the perfect example of how an actor can electrify the stage even in a small role. At any rate, back to my review of The Butler…)
Loosely and liberally based on the life of Eugene Allen, The Butler relays the story of Cecil Gaines, who served as member of the White House staff for more than three decades. Set first in 1929, the film opens with a potently violent scene from Gaines’ childhood, during which time he worked as a farmhand on a Macon Georgia cotton plantation. Initially shocking the viewer with the off-screen rape of Gaines’ mother (Mariah Carey) and murder of Gaines’ father (David Banner) by a brutally nonchalant white landowner (Alex Pettyfer), the film uses Gaines’ life story as a vehicle by which to chronicle the progression of the U.S. Civil Rights Movement in the latter half of the 20th Century. Although the violent events depicted in this first scene were fabricated for dramatic effect, including them at the film’s start effectively sets the tone of the era, during which black Americans endured not only legally-condoned discrimination and oppression, but frequent actual violence at the hands of both private citizens and white public law enforcers who nearly always went unpunished. Muscle-bound Banner’s palpable love for his son and vulnerability throughout contrasted sharply with the coldblooded exactness brought by British actor Pettyfer, whose character, set off by a mere questioning gesture after the rape, kills Gaines’ father with an apathetic pistol shot to the forehead without reservation or remorse.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Some thoughts after re-reading Caryl Churchill's play "Cloud 9"

Cloud 9Cloud 9 by Caryl Churchill

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Because the Theatre Arts Department at the University of Miami is producing the play, I will be teaching Cloud Nine this semester to my Into to Theater students. Anticipating this, I reread it this morning. So here are some thoughts...

Act One transpires in Africa during Victorian times, and Act Two jumps to London in 1979, though the characters have only aged 25 years. The historical division between the two acts is almost as significant, if not more so, than the non-traditional casting in Act One (male characters are played by women and vice-versa.) As the author writes in the introduction, Act One is set in Victorian times because she wanted to highlight the repressive gender norms, stifled sexuality, nationalism, patriarchy, and imperialistic values (which, perceptibly, she presents as being interwoven and interdependent on one another.)  It’s interesting that there is a doubling/overlap between Victorianism (“traditional” values) and the “savage” colonized African landscape in Act One. This seems intentional, as they are both representative of the past. Though the imperialists consider themselves to be “civilized,” by showcasing how the characters transform from Act One to Act Two, Churchill represents them as unevolved, or stunted, in terms of how they conceived of social progress, in the era before women's and gay liberation.

In Act One, patriarchal values reign supreme. The gay characters and the women fully accept the idea that they aren’t as valuable/good/noble as the heterosexual male father figure. Sexuality in Act One is hushed up and secretive, and exploitation of women, people of color, and homosexual men is considered to be the normal, appropriate way of doing things. These forms of repression/oppression are a priori: they are simply how the civilized world “is.”

All of this changes in Act Two, when the gay characters and the women start acquiring self-esteem and self-awareness. Betty's many lines about how she no longer defines herself through the eyes of her husband (she had previously thought it was her duty to lie still during sex, as if pleasure was something she had no right to expect, until she rediscovers the pleasures of masturbation almost accidentally) evidence her transformation. The characters’ personal growth here mirrors society’s evolution in terms of how women and gay men gain social status. By Act Two, it is possible for gays to pursue both love and sexual fulfillment uncloseted, and for women to earn a living on their own and exist relatively free of male influence. The lesbian character of Lin is the epitome of this, although she realizes by the play's end that men can also be useful, provided they cook and/or are willing to satisfy women sexually.

In terms of social theory, psychoanalysis, and theory of gender, it seems to me that this play prefigures thinkers like Judith Butler and Jack Halberstam (who have written from the 1990s to the present about the way that gender is a performance/social construct rather than something inherent or purely biological), Gayle Rubin (an anthropologist whose influential 1975 article “The Traffic in Women: Notes on the Political Economy of Sex” explains how marriages were originally social contracts between two or more men, rather than between one man and one women. Rubin explained that in the pre-Modern era, the bride had little agency, but rather functioned as an object of exchange, i.e. a gift from the father to the husband that ensured a reciprocity of social relations between these two males and their male-dominated kinship networks), Eve Kosofsky-Sedgewick [who, in her book Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (1985), wrote about the importance of “homosocial relationships” in Victorian British literature. Her argument is that heterosexual men valued their relationships with one another in that era more than their relationships with their wives. In the “homosocial world” Sedgwick describes, women were not seen as equals. In fact, they were considered less than human in some ways. In the play, Churchill presents this by contrasting how the character of Clive interacts with Harry as opposed to Betty, his wife], and also post-colonial theorists like Edward Said (Orientalism, 1978) and Homi K. Bhahba (1990s-present), who both argue that the Western self-conception of superiority is dependent on a de-humanization of the colonized -- in other words, the West’s elevated conception of itself is intimately tied to its exploitation of others: its barbarism.

Frantz Fanon’s seminal psychoanalytic text Black Skin/White Mask (from 1952, in which Fanon describes how the black colonized subject internalizes the European patronizing, derogating view of him into his own psyche as a result of the dominating social forces of racism, imperialism, etc.) probably also influenced Churchill. Even if not, her dramatic writing echoes it inadvertently. (Considering the character of Joshua, a black African servant who is played by a white man in Act One, it is difficult to imagine that Churchill was completely unaware of Fanon's theories.)

It is interesting that these thinkers (other than Frantz Fanon and Gayle Rubin) actually wrote their work after Churchill wrote Cloud Nine. (Edward Said, Luce Irigaray and Monique Wittig were her contemporaries.) To me, it feels as though Churchill's playwriting (if it inherently embodies some of these ideas theatrically, and I think it does!) prefigures much of the intellectual discourse that was to come in the fields of cultural studies, critical theory (both postcolonialism and feminist theory), literary criticism, queer theory, etc. Obviously, like Butler and Halberstam, Churchill is probably also influenced by early feminist thinkers like Simone de Beauvoir (who wrote, “one is not born, but rather becomes, a woman,” as early as 1949) and Luce Irigaray (whose ideas in the 1977 text This Sex Which is Not One were similar to Gayle Rubin’s.)

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

goodreads review of Samuel R. Delany's "The Motion of Light in Water"

The Motion Of Light In Water: Sex And Science Fiction Writing In The East VillageThe Motion Of Light In Water: Sex And Science Fiction Writing In The East Village by Samuel R. Delany

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


The Motion of Light in Water: Sex and Science Fiction Writing in the East Village is the story of a young writer's coming of age. The memoir is a beautifully-crafted narrative that moves back and forth in time like a tesseract... "queer temporality" in action before that jargon was coined in academia to describe it. It chronicles Delany's childhood, growing up over a funeral parlor in Harlem, his adolescence, during which he was a gifted student at Bronx Science, his early 20s, when he lived in the East Village with poet (then his wife) Marilyn Hacker, and his early struggles and successes publishing science fiction novels at Ace Books. Interspersed with vivid poetic descriptions of NYC in the late 50s and early 60s, the memoir includes numerous titillating anecdotes about Delany's queer sexual awakening, poignant erotic descriptions of the men with rough workman's hands and bitten-down fingernails who touched him, as well as whimsical tales of his interactions with literary and musical icons including W.H. Auden and Bob Dylan (Delany's name once appeared above Dylan's on a makeshift Village cafe marquee for five minutes before one of his folk gigs in the early 60s), all set in the Bohemia that once was downtown Manhattan. Outrageously fun to read is his account of his experience watching a "Happening in Six Parts," an experimental performance art piece whose structure he then borrows as a paradigm for his own storytelling (seemingly random, yet actually, perfectly organized.) Also particularly moving are his descriptions of the creations of two early experimental literary works (the 1000+ page Voyage, Orestes! and a full-length opera on which he collaborated with Lorenzo Fuller) that were both lost in the flotsam and jetsam of an ever-changing NYC (the novel was buried under rubble of a torn-down building in whose basement the manuscript had rested while he was out of town.) Though his father once strangled his childhood imaginary friend Octopus hoping to facilitate a more rapid maturation, Delany's artistic impulses could not be stifled.

The last 200 pages of the novel focuses mainly on Delany and Marilyn Hacker's long-lasting triad-relationship with Bob, a sexy homeless wanderer Delany invited to their East Village walk-up for dinner one night. The pleasurable and relatively emotionally-fulfilling domestic interlude comes to an end when Bob's wife from Florida moves to New York and into their building. Delany subsequently agrees to accompany Bob on a hitchhiking trip to Texas (they end up traveling separately to expedite rides), where the two aspire to work on fishing boats on the Gulf Coast. These passages of the memoir are reminiscent of both Jack Kerouac's novel On the Road and Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, as they feature many descriptions of the late night racist underbelly of the mid-century rural U.S., knee-high wading through muddy rainstorms, episodes of roadside exhausted collapse, and exhilarating blow-by-blow accounts of midnight conversations with strangers both benevolently Good Samaritanish and menacingly seedy.

The memoir chronicles not only the writer's personal development, but also, the growing political queer/black/feminist consciousness(es) that blossomed in the late 1960s/early 1970s in a way that brilliantly and generously avoids the alienation and isolationism that can result from strict adherence to dogmatic identity politics. (Much of this is accomplished through the inclusion of subtle details about the shifting power dynamics and various modes of nurturing that occurred within the loving and intimate relationship between Delany and Hacker, as well as numerous wisely-chosen passages of Hacker's arresting poetry, some never before published.) Most notably, it also usefully and candidly investigates both bisexuality and "interracial" relationships in a way that refreshingly shatters stereotypical binary conceptions of sexuality, race, and gender identities.

Not that it matters, but I do highly recommend this book!



View all my reviews

Thursday, January 12, 2012

New England Theatre Journal, 2011 edition, Volume 22

An essay I wrote entitled Queering the Domestic and Domesticating the Queer: Utopian Genealogies in Lanford Wilson's "Fifth of July" was recently published in the New England Theatre Journal, 2011 edition, volume 22.  Please feel free to contact me via email (darrenblaney@cs.com) if you would like to request a pdf copy of it.

As we are once again in a moment in which veterans (closeted, straight, disabled, and - for the first time in US history - "openly gay" as well) are returning after a long war to a country in a relatively dire economic state, I believe that Lanford Wilson's masterfully crafted play "Fifth of July" is worth revisiting again, as it provides an interesting lens through which to view our current situation.
 
Queering the Domestic and Domesticating the Queer: Utopian Genealogies in Lanford Wilson's Fifth of July

ABSTRACT:
Examining Lanford Wilson's 1978 play Fifth of July, this article discusses how the playwright responded to post-Vietnam culture wars by implementing utopian models of genealogy, kinship, and inheritance.  The essay contextualizes the play in terms of contemporaneous homophobic violence and other challenges to gay civil rights, as well as in terms of recent queer theory and events.  Constructing a revisionist historiography that "queered" the US family, Wilson's auspicious vision extended from his ensemble to his audiences.

Thanks for reading, and all the best to you in 2012!

Friday, June 18, 2010

script of my 2005 solo show "You May Now Kiss... My Sass...?"

The original script to my 2005 solo show, "You May Now Kiss... My Sass...?" can now be found here:
http://darrenblaney.blogspot.com/p/script-of-my-solo-show-you-may-now-kiss.html
This show was produced in conjunction with the 2005 San Francisco Fringe Festival, and was originally directed by my dear friend Nicole Schlosser.  The publicity photography was by Glenna Cole-Allee.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

My first weekend living in WeHo & "The Color Purple" at The Pantages.

Those of you who know me might be surprised to hear that I now have a West Hollywood address, as this part of the world is a bit more chic than the kinds of neighborhoods in which I've lived previously, Bernal Heights in SF and Park Slope in Brooklyn aside. At any rate, Larry and I have been working our fingers to the nubbins all weekend trying to organize, unpack, and merge homes. Does one home really *need* two hammers, three toilet brushes, and 6 separate Trader Joe's packages of low-sodium roasted almonds, I ask you? The answer is "HELL NO!" but these are the kinds of questions one must face when one has limited space, is over 40, and is trying to merge homes with another man who is 46!

Well, the highlight of our weekend was definitely yesterday afternoon. Larry read a review in the L.A. Times last week and got it in his head to get us tickets to see the musical version of "The Color Purple" at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. Needless to say, it was an amazing experience... as much for the fantastic crowd as for the skillful singing and dancing and strong dramatic performances of all the actors on stage. Not to mention the comedic timing of Felicia P. Fields, the actress who played the Sophia character (the one Oprah played in the film). Her delivery alone made the cost of the tickets worthwhile. The entire event was fabulous... where else in L.A. would you find a crowd that was probably 70% gorgeous dark-skinned beauties of both genders, dressed to the nines, and 15% queer women and men of every race, all laughing, applauding, and crying together under one roof??? It was an event that might have made an academic like Jill Dolan blush with glee. The play provided an opportunity for a very interesting cross section of Los Angeles to come together that you probably wouldn't find interacting with each other in many other places... Larry and I found the performance to be extremely emotionally uplifting. Fantasia was unquestionably brilliant: she channeled Whoopie Goldberg and Patti Labelle simultaneously, all the while finding her authentic voice, discovering "the beauty in myself" as the lyrics to one of the songs went. It was, in a word, awesome!!

Seeing the play made me think about what "the classics" in literature might mean to this next generation. Certainly, having a film and now this musical theater piece based off of her work must make Alice Walker take pause. Time has passed. The novel version of "The Color Purple", a phenomenal work written by a black queer feminist in the early 1980s and now read by high school and college students, will be to the next generations what "Huckleberry Finn" and "Tom Sawyer" were to our parents and grandparents. That's my hopeful prediction. Seeing this Broadway production in L.A. made me grateful to Oprah Winfrey, Quincey Jones, and all the other producers who are making sure that the talents of the younger generation - like Fantasia - have quality material with which to work.

Friday, January 8, 2010

In defense of Tony Kushner.

My letter to the editor was published in the Sunday San Francisco Chronicle, January 25, 2004, in response to Paul Heller's letter, published January 4, 2004.


Editor -- As bizarre as it may feel being an unknown playwright jumping to the defense of a literary titan like Tony Kushner, I can't help but respond to Paul Heller's letter of Jan. 4. First praising "Angels in America'' for its "theatricality," he elaborates his feelings by criticizing its spare writing style and complaining that some of the lines in the play "do not mean much of anything." I would like to remind Heller that even classic American writers like Tennessee Williams, or the more lyrical Eugene O'Neill, composed minimalist lines that, taken out of context, might seem trite at first glance. Perhaps I am missing Heller's point, but I can't help but wonder if he would prefer that Kushner had composed his powerful, image-laden play in Shakespearean iambic pentameter?


While Heller may be correct in suggesting that it's too early to know whether Kushner's body of work will stand the test of time, his critique ignores the overarching theme and scope of the play. Heller's accusation that the text of "Angels in America" "lack(s) substance" is ludicrous at best. From my perspective, with "Angels," Kushner conjured a startling world-view that transcended any of its poetic and theatrically charged two-person scenes. By juxtaposing and intertwining the lives of victims of the AIDS crisis with those of a dysfunctional Mormon family and a corrupt politician, Kushner offered a foreboding political vision of America whose message reverberated clearly through the chaotic din of the latter 20th century. "Angels" is a celebration of the human capacity for compassion, a slap in the face of barbarous American capitalism, and an admonishing plea for the spiritually vigilant.


In our current era, in which continuous destabilization brought on by shameless avarice seems to be norm thanks to our misguided leaders, this message rings truer than ever. In my opinion, the suggestion that Kushner should abase his work in light of "industry needs" (such as the promotion of Hollywood stars or the solicitation of new HBO subscribers) should be offensive to anyone possessing the remotest artistic sensibility.


Heller is asking too much from the dramatic genre. Stating that some lines of the play sound "portentous but lacking," it's almost as if he's looking for a prediction of the future. Maybe he'd be happier searching the texts of Nostradamus than those of our beloved literary shaman, Tony Kushner.


Darren P. Blaney, Aptos


Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2004/01/25/PKGD546DED1.DTL#ixzz0c2geQWFQ

Sunday, January 11, 2009

golden gate boys
acrylic on paper
1999




i made this painting in 1999,
dreaming of moving to san francisco

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

September 2008 at Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum:

some links about my performance work

Information about my original plays, The Bird Club: Letter to Sandra Bernhard, What the Hell is Going on Here?, and You May Now Kiss... My Sass...?:

http://workssanjose.org/newsletterSUMMER2004.shtml
http://www.doollee.com/PlaywrightsB/blaney-darren-patrick.html


Reviews of my performance in The Dying Gaul at the New Conservatory Theater Company in San Francisco:
http://www.beyondchron.org/news/index.php?itemid=4182
http://www.talkinbroadway.com/regional/sanfran/s886.html