The Criterion Caitlin

I don't follow many non-friend Twitters. However, one of my non-friend Twitterers just twittered about my friend and basically blew my mind apart with awesomeness.

I follow The Criterion Collection and get updates on their film releases, etc. Like most non-uber-avant-garde-film-buff people, the only Criterion Collection films I own are by Wes Anderson, but I like getting regular updates about Belgian films from the 70's that I've never heard of. It's my version of CNN.

But tonight, scrolling through my Twitter updates, I saw this,


wherein I little did a double take at the name Caitlin Kuhwald, one of the most talented people I knew in high school, and that's saying something. Caitlin actaully left SCPA (The San Diego School For Creative And Performing Arts) a bit after junior high to go to COSA (Coronado School of the Arts) but she's still a formative member of our ever-aging gang of SCPA class of '98ers, despite the fact that she wore a green gown at her graduation and we wore white.

Caitlin was actually the first (and to some extent, still the only) person I ever went on a road trip with. We drove from San Diego up Highway 101 and spent a bit of time in San Francisco then spent a week with our friend Christa who was staying with her Dad in the awesomely small town of Susanville, CA. While there, Caitlin painted a mural inside Christa's house. We stayed up late at night writing satirical pop songs (I still know most of the words to "90's Girl") and watching "Say Antyhing". (Actually, come to think of it- any Bennington people who remember my "stand-up" routine of fake indie girl band- that song "I'll be True" was written that week- Kim, you know what I'm talking about--oh the history!!)

Also, the only time I've ever been to Chicago was to visit Caitlin at her Dad's house. It's pretty amazing the more I think about it, how many places are marked by Caitlin's presence in my memory and her art in actuality. (Not to mention to full page in the back of my 8th grade yearbook where she drew an unbelievably accurate picture of the guy I like-liked.)

Caitlin has moved on from yearbooks and onto the cover of Criterion's releases of Heaven Can Wait, The Thief of Baghdad and Amarcord. See her Top 10 Criterion favorites here.

Congratulations Caitlin. I'm so excited that your art will grace so many homes- in prized movie collections. Glad I already have some treasured Kuhwald's of my own, and some truly wonderful memories (and trip photo albums- especially the black and whites from the graveyard that day...) .

Mark My Body For Life: Only $5!

Today I went here:
...to schedule an appontment for Friday, October 16.
Visit Tattoo Me to learn how you can help do just that.

Don't miss this exciting opportunity!!!


(You'll also get a pseudo-preview of my soon-to-be-released new blog site)

"If I Read Your Play, Will You Promise To Stop Writing Them?"

This is my third year reviewing submissions for a playwrights' residency program in NY. Every year I wait excitedly for my packet of plays to arrive in a giant manilla envelope. Then, every year my smile slackens upon reading the first line of the first play, wherein I remember that 4,999 out of every 5,000 un-represented (by agent) play submissions are horrendously un-readable. But I must read on, constrained by my commitment (and paycheck) to read every single word on every single unnecessary page. By play number four I remember why I stopped working in theater Literary departments: You thought retail was soul-killing? Try spending day after day reading people's open-hearted, dream-filled, creative offerings and thinking to yourself, "Sir/Madam, you are entirely deluded in thinking you have a career in play-writing; rarely (actually quite frequently) have I encountered a text so devoid of talent or promise."

It's only slightly less depressing than watching SAG-enforced open auditions.

But in the end, I get a little bit of cash, a little boost to my inner-critic-ego, and a nostalgic (is it truly in the past or just on pause?) return to theatre work.

Here's some quotes from my reviews:
(And no, the playwrights do not read these- just the selection committee- I'm not that mean)

"A flat and tired treatment of an unoriginal narrative, this play fails to be believable in either characterization or action."

"[The] themes fail to take shape either in character interaction or in the language/imagery of the piece. The metaphors appear but never take on meaning."

"This play appears more an exercise in dramatic theory than an expression of creative vision."

"The repetition and gestures that are the primary substance of the play appear only as attempts at avant-garde, rather than embodiment of the dramatic tension. "

"A sentimental and melodramatic story spread thin by too many dramatic questions."

"Hackneyed and derivative ex-lover scenario with tinges of detective drama a-la 'Murder She Wrote'."

"We will never know how the mind turns the water of our cells into the wine of consciousness"

Proust Was a Neuroscientist by Jonah Lehrer


My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I was drawn to Jonah Lehrer's book when I saw a light blue paperback with a madeleine cookie on the cover along with the word "neuroscientist". Tasty looking indeed. When I opened it up, I saw that an entire chapter was devoted to George Eliot and "The Biology of Freedom". With little more info than that, I basically took the book to the cash register and had at it.

To quote the description on the back, Lehrer's book explores the idea that "when it comes to understanding the brain, art got there first." Each chapter profiles a 19th-early 20th century artist and how their work revealed an understanding of how our brains function that neuroscience is only just beginning to discover. Most engaging was the chapter on chef Auguste Escoffier and the intuiting of umami- our only very recently canonized new taste- joining savory, sweet and the rest. The chapter on Stravinsky and how our brains learn to enjoy music was also refreshing.

Overall, however, I find I was most alert while Lehrer profiled the artists, particularly as he located them within the scientific atmosphere of their time. Once each chapter switched to descriptions of neurological functioning the writing became dense and hard to connect with. Maybe there's just no easy way to write about neuroscience no matter how many literary references one uses. Lehrer's effort is much appreciated, but still feels only mildly successful. I loved learning about the relationships (or animosities) these artists had to the scientific communities of their era, but the connection to what their art revealed about what we now know of the brain still felt like a bit of a reach. But still interesting. Ultimately, I love Lehrer's goal of fostering dialogue and mutual understanding between science and art.

"We now know enough to know that we will never know everything. That is why we need art: it teaches us how to live with mystery. Only the artist can explore the ineffable without offering us an answer, for sometimes there is no answer...When we venture beyond the edge of our knowledge, all we have is art."

Beautiful.

View all my reviews >>

Marked For Life

Today, Jamelyn and I joined Jenn, "j.fresh", as she completed a 21st century rite of passage: getting the tattoo. She's been wanting this tattoo for 7 and a half years. I've been wanting a tattoo for at least four years, though technically, probably since I turned double digits. Note to self: best way to decide to go ahead and get a tattoo? Join someone and see for yourself how gosh darn easy it is.
Here she is in the last twenty minutes of her life with unmarked wrists.
j.fresh gawking in the first minutes of being inked. Or else she's gawking at the fact that actor Seth Rogen apparently does tattoo art on the side. Seriously, this is Seth Rogan, but he told us to call him Jason.

A bit of un-thrilling but historically signifiant footage here.
Freshly inked (and vaselined). Jenn didn't realize until Jason pointed it out, that the dove design she chose is based on one of Picasso's doves.Post-tattoo Chipotle time. Jenn's bandage made her look a little recently-suicidal, but she couldn't have been more pleased with the result.

And within six hours of this adventure, I decided exactly what tattoo I want and where I want it. But I'm gonna wait till my birthday, so I've got a couple months to let it simmer and settle (and find a Font artist). Yep- that's all I'm gonna tell ya.

I Never Really Blog About Theatre...

...mostly because it's such a small world and one negative comment can easily make it back to the person you're talking about, and I'm not really into that. I've had to spend years working on my ability to speak respectfully of shows I hate, whether its because I'm giving an usher speech, or because someone close to me was involved, or because I need people to come to it so I can keep my job. (Don't get me started on my Bob Saget days...) Now, off the job and in un-influential circles however, you may may find me ranting with vehemence and sometimes, tears. I recently saw a show that was so insulting to my intelligence that I walked out after 40 minutes, and kept my eyes closed for 30 of those minutes...But anyway, my modus operandi with theatre tends to be internet silence rather than critique. It's just too small a world.

But I recently got an email from my friend Garth, about a show he'd just seen. I was so touched by his instinct to tell me about it, not to mention my wish that I could beam back to NY to see it, that I thought I'd repost it here. So, here's a little theatre blog- by proxy.

Email:
I wanted to tell you about a show I saw that I think you would really have loved. It was called "The Success of Failure (Or the Failure of Success)" by Cynthia Hopkins, the third installment of the Accidental Nostalgia trilogy. Maybe you saw one of the first two installments of the trilogy at St. Ann's Warehouse when you lived here. I had seen the second one, which was okay (musically exiciting but theatrically a little thin), but this show was one of the most succesful pieces of theatre I've seen in ages. Act I: a one-woman space opera about a suicidally depressed, alcoholic space pilot who is sent on a mission to save the earth. In the end she has to destroy the earth in order to save allow a race of super-sentient beings to escape the universe, which is collapsing. Act II was Cynthia Hopkins explaining with heartwrenching honesty how her own battles with alcoholism and depression led her to make this trilogy of shows. Normally I'm not a big fan of confessional, one-person shows but she was such a completely frank, engaging performer, with something important to say, and she shared of her spirit so generously that I fell completely in love. The show also included a lot of high-tech multimedia elements, not normally something I'm a fan of in live theatre, but she used them so well, and in a manner so clearly in service of the story she was telling that it worked.

In both the space-opera act and the confessional act, Hopkins portrayed the way depression and despair feed off of stories and ideas both personal and cosmological. In the end, she didn't tie it up with a bow: we're left with the sense that she's hopeful about having found a new way of being in the world, but without a simplistic portrait of a solution or a quick fix for all her problems.

More than anything, I was left wanting keenly to be more alive, inspired to be, to do and to feel more, which is exactly what I want from theatre.

You should google accidental nostalgia trilogy to find the website with some clips from the show.
XO,

Garth

Go To This Also

BJORCHARIST - a Bjork inspired Eucharist


THIS SUNDAY, MAY 24TH, 5PM
AT CHURCH OF THE BELOVED
1212 9TH AVE EDMONDS WA 98020

Blogging & Spirituality

Mars Hill Graduate School has started a new site for prospective students- a space to read student work, listen to professors, see MHGS Gallery art, and other such things. One of the features is an ongoing series on Blogging & Spirituality.


A couple of us bloggerfolk were asked to write posts about anything this theme struck up for us. The piece I wrote just went up. More and more, these odd invitations to write have felt so galvinizing- to be provided a bit of structure and an inspritaional starting point, then told to "just write what you write" is such an immense gift. To be offered a contained space to ponder and creatively connect things- oh how sweet and humbling, life-giving.

This last invitation for the Experience MHGS site has tipped me over the edge for an idea I've been ruminating over: wanting to do a series here on this blog with invited guest writers on particular theme. I won't go into detail yet, but hope to be able to unveil something soon.

And thanks, Josue for letting me get all jumbly in the brain for the sake of MHGS and its future populace.

Go To This

Urban Hymnal

My Constant Dilemma Haiku

Bad art makes me so
irritable. More so when
they all think its good.

The Hero Factory

The Hero Factory is a super great way to spend time you should spend sleeping or doing homework. Here's your new procrastination activity: create your own superhero. They'll even name it for you and give you a comic book cover. Ian did his, and here's mine. They named me "The Talented Splintery Condor" but when I made some alterations, they changed the name to "The Superhuman Barky Angel." Here's a look at both.
Mysterious isn't she? Bet you want to know what the stick is for.

Praying in Circles

I found myself with an assignment this weekend to create a prayer mandala. It's been awhile since I whipped out the crayons and colored pencils. So long, in fact, that I realized I don't have any of my own here in Seattle, and thus had to borrow from a roomate's supply. Coloring has always been a meditative practice for me, whether it was making pages and pages of layered color squares when I was ten, or cutting into Discrete Math homework time with meticulously shaded coloring book pages of Pocahontas in 10th grade with Christa. There are tons of pictures of me as a kid with a concentrated stare, markers in hand, and my tongue hanging out- apparently I can't draw without using my face. I discovered that hasn't changed. As I drew the big circle, I noticed that my jaw was agape and I was pushing my tongue against the back of my teeth (for balance perhaps?).

The finished product is something akin to what I had in my mind, though I tried really hard not to plan but just let it spiral as it wanted to. (It wasn't, however, supposed to evoke tie-dye as I now think it does) And as always, I couldn't refrain from using text. The text may be abstracted and manic, but I couldn't complete the circle without using words.

I don't know how I feel about the mandala I made, or the experience of making it, but it stuck out as such an "other" experience compared to everything else I do on a daily basis that that in itself seem worth noting.

More Couture Than I Knew

Kim wrote a post about Garter Stitch Knits making a lot of runway appearances lately, and as I read her post, was thinking, "Hmm- the last 16 things I've made were all garter stitch. I am cool."

Then as I continued to scroll, Boom! There were pictures of my scarves as examples of said sticth. I love sharing blog mentions with Gianfranco Ferre.



thanks for the love, Kimmy

The "Arcade Philosopher Scarf" For...

Name: Scott Small

Location: Seattle

Occupation: Graduate Student

Place I Think of as Home: Anywhere here in the Emerald City.

The Worst Movie I've Ever Seen is: The Fighting Temptations. I try to be gracious about films I don't like, only this one failed on every level, but without the usual bad movie charm.

When I Think Of Beauty, I Think of: The way the smell of baking cookies reminds me that I'm home and that I'm loved. The feeling I get when the lights go down at a movie theater. The way my friend Rob speaks of his daughters. A well told story. The belly laughter that can only happen when we know we belong. The crack of a bat when the ball hits that perfect spot. Good drinks and long conversations... I could go on like this for a really long time.

If I Had to Choose Between Theology and Baseball, I'd: Probably just explode.

Were it Not For My Wife, I'd Know Nothing About: The reality that cooking is like art, and baking is like science.

Please Don't Ever Ask Me to: Sing a solo in public.

I'd Love a Chance to: Write for a living.

Something I'd Like to Say: I'd like to say I know what my talents are and where I am headed. I'd like to say that, but I can't yet.

Kj and I: Are probably seen by some to be overly passionate about mundane things. What they don't realize is that we just so happen to be exactly as passionate as one should be.

Making the Scarf: When I submitted a "Kj will make a scarf for you" option to our school's annual art auction, I was a little nervous that I'd be interpreting a scarf for someone I'd never met. How stoked was I then, when I heard that I was gonna get to scarf the awesome and increasingly impressive Scott Small! Last year I took a selected readings course on theology and emerging network theories in science and evolution, and after the second week, I remember walking out and saying to someone, "Um, so is Scott Small a super genius?" They assented.

Ever since, I've enjoyed every conversation I've had with him- I always feel smarter afterwards, as well as in a better mood than before. Which is the only reason I can come up with to explain why when I heard I'd be making a scarf for Scott that I immediately had the name "Arcade Philospher" come into to my mind. Not that I've ever seen Scott play Asteroids, Pac Man, or Halo for that matter, but there's something about Scott that makes me picture him holding a soft drink and slice of pizza at the edge of a pinball machine while discussing ecclesiology and fractals. Thus, his scarf was inspired by the colors of Atari, mixed with "deeper" colors as well. I tried twice to punch it with a bright yellow or lime green, like a digital laser gun, but in the end, it wanted to stay cool and dark. (I didn't know it would match so well with an Obama T-Shirt!)

And as you can see from the above interview, Scott has a point of view that both inspires, enlightens and welcomes you as you listen. I can't wait to go to his first book signing.

The Sofia Coppola Time of Year

As February draws near, I hear the siren song of Sofia Coppola's three film meditations on being young, lonely and female. I recently found some alternative poster art for Lost in Translation- I like how each is a different interpretation of the story- and how very Sofia some of them are.













































































"Everyone Wants To Be Found"

My Story Teller in Shades of Bone, Birch and Branch

Andrew Wyeth passed away last week at age 91.

I don't consider myself very fluent in visual arts, its just not how my brain works, but I've always been drawn to artists who tell me stories in colors that feed me. Andrew Wyeth has been one of those artists. I think I became mildy obsessed with his work in the early age of the internet, probably just in search of an interesteing desk top image, but whatever the impetus, I found him, loved the world he painted, and kept those images close to me ever since.
I keep a print of the above painting by my desk, paired with a photograph by Sean Scully. Wyeth's paintings seem to give loneliness a sense of purpose instead of desolation. The images often appear cold, but the kind of cold you want to walk in, to focus your mind in, a briskness that makes you reflective but also awakens yearning.
He makes my winter heart beat.For a poignant and personal eulogy and reflection on Wyeth's impact, see Ed's post.

The "Home, Sweet Seattle" Scarf For...

Name: Rebecca Jean Pesicka Swanson

Location: Edmonds, WA

Occupation: RN in the perinatal arena (ie: antepartum, labor & delivery & postpartum)

Best Music to Cook By: My husband does most of the cooking in our house (but I enjoy baking bread to the likes of Iron & Wine)

In Heaven There Will Be: no dogs

I Wish I Had More Time To: Excel in the domestic arts

One Thing My Daughter Has Learned From Me Thus Far: The proper name for our gentle parts

One Thing I Have Learned From My Daughter Thus Far: Most things can be fixed with a hug and kind words

Top Two Names I Will Not Name My Unborn Child: Jennifer & Deb

If I Could Live in a Movie, it Would Be: A Room With a View or Anne of Green Gables

Jazz Hands Come in Handy When: Remembering my childhood

Something I'd Like to Say: I am so glad Obama won and I love Kj

Kj and I: Are Seeesters

Making the Scarf:
I was stoked to knit for my SEEEESTER in law Rebecca. I knew pretty quickly that I wanted to make a Pacific Northwest feeling scarf for her, since her recent return from living in LA has confirmed how much this branch of the Swansons loves and belongs to Seattle. I also wanted to use colors to complement her dark red hair and green (?) eyes. At least in my memory they are green, but maybe that was just that time in high school when she wore tinted contacts. (Did that even happen?) Anyhoo, I turned to colors of misty mountains, rocks and water, with still a punch of bright prettiness to match Rebecca's own bright prettiness. And what else can I say about Rebecca other than she is brilliant, good at everything, and that together, we both laugh at all the same things and have a penchant for doing pas de bourees in the kitchen. I love you Rabonko!

The "Lectio/Latte/Electronica" Scarf for...

Name: Paul Wilson Belk

Location: Seattle, WA

Occupation: Retail Manager / Pastor

Book I'm Most Into Right Now: The Sparrow/Children of God by Mary Doria Russell

The Key To Building Fences is: Letting your engineering-degreed housemate do most of the work

I'll Be Patient As Long As: it takes

My Favorite Sunday Morning Activity Is: Getting up early on a cold day with my wife, reading a good book with hot cup of coffee together while cozying down under a blanket (or a fancy new scarf!)

One Thing A Pastor Needs to Be is: paid

My Wife Laughs At Me Most When: I am a little spazzy, which is most of the time

I Laugh With My Wife Most When: She's a little spazzy, which is most of the time (but you didn't hear that from me...)

The Celebrity I Wish Would Run Out of Gas In Front of My House: Henri Nouwen, but only if he was still alive, otherwise, it'd be a little too creepy.

Something I'd Like to Say: (silence is golden, he thinks)

Kj and I: I want to be Kj when I grow up

Making the Scarf:
I was so excited when Paul asked if I'd knit him up a KjPeopleProfileScarf. Paul is one of those super-radiantly cool people who is made all the more cool by their authenticity and humility rather than by flaunting their awesomeness. As such, I decided to make a scarf that would broadcast Paul's cool factor in louder tones than he uses himself.

My early memories of seeing Paul around campus have him with purple hair, though it's likely that my memory is a bit off, but nonetheless, I knew right away that I wanted to use colors that evoked "Purple Hair" to me. (Which apparently means black). Also, when I think of Paul, I think of the many parts of his life, be it wearing a barista apron, sewing hipster T-shirts or praying over Eucharist, and I wanted to reflect those dynamics in the scarf. Hence, this scarf feels a little more Indy-Punk and Neon sign than I've done previously, but still maintains a cheery bright blue "I'm Approachable" feel. It's a scarf inspired by Paul's quiet nature and electric spirit. I wouldn't mind being him when I grow up either.

The "Sunshine on My Shoulders" Scarf for...

Name: Stacy Dyann Pietsch (maiden name: Kanzler)

Location: Lower Queen Anne Seattle, Wa

Occupation: Nanny to rich kids/Counseling to poor kids...pretty much the same thing

The Best Job I Ever Had: Is still in the works. But the most appalling job I ever had included ironing a grown man's briefs...I quit soon after.

Tea Time Means: A year of Wednesday nights filled with off color humor, solving the world's problems, and deep love for each other.
































The Key to Hospitality is: A well used air mattress, a toilet that always runs, and a window that people use as a door

You Can Recognize My Husband By: The way you will never be the same after loving him.

While I'm Driving, I Listen To: Usually hip hop/rap until I hear "ho" one too many times and then I switch to NPR

Washington vs. Illinois: The current Illinois governor scandal has nothing on the 2004 governor election in Washington

If I Were a Flower, I Would Be: A Dalia

Something I'd Like To Say: I am ready for springtime

Kj and I: are the greatest "we never hang out but when we do sweet love and inspiration fill the room" friends




















Making the Scarf:
For Stacy, who has the awesomest last name (pronounced "Peach") I had a none-too-subconscious thought to make a Peach-inspired scarf. I'd also been in the mood to put some white in a scarf, and Stacey's shining self confidence and welcoming, loving spirit seemed like a good match. I loved the combo of the mauvish pink and the honey yellow. Together, the colors felt chewy and richly sweet to me, like a piece of fruit you'd pick off a tree in Willy Wonka's floor room. Basically, rather than finding a peach tone yarn, I used colors that, if combined on a palette, would turn out peachy. I like the effect.

I have at times described Stacey as the eschatological realization of a cheerleader, so the scarf carries some of that energy as well: something meant to lift the spirits of one who always lifts mine. Stacey is an elegant combo of soulfull and joyfull, and when she asked for a scarf to help brighten gray winter days before spring, I did my best to give her some sunshine. (And yes, there is still some gray in there. It is still Seattle, after all).
I Heart Super Stace!
Photos kindly offered by Kim Roth Howe