Monday, March 11, 2024

HICK 3/13 in SF PLUS HICK GHOST STORY

 

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February 26, 2024


This Wednesday, 3/13 @ 7:30pm

HICK in S.F.

plus

HICK Ghost Story


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ONE NIGHT ONLY!


The Marsh & Lilith Theater Present

HICK: A Love Story

Based on Eleanor Roosevelt's 2336 Letters to Lorena Hickock

Wednesday, March 13 @ 7:30pm

The Marsh SF

1062 Valencia St.

MASKS REQUIRED!

ORDER TICKETS TODAY


I hope that those who can come do come on Wednesday. I've made small but, I think, very significant changes in the script. I'm trying to make this absolutely incredible story more real and also emphasizing more strongly the sexual nature of their love. Just a coupla lines here, a coupla lines there. But I think it will make a difference. Terry


And now....

HICK GHOST STORY

LEFT: Hick & ER in Puerto Rico



Early in the first run of HICK, at the Eureka Theater in San Francisco, I arrived at the theater, and there was a letter waiting for me. It was from a fan.    He had been moved and delighted by the show. He said, “I just wish Hick and Eleanor could be in the audience. I know they would love it too.”


That night, as I sat in my dressing room, I thought, wouldn’t it be great if their spirits of the two lovers (if such spirits exist) could sit in the audience, invisible, holding hands and laughing at the funny stuff, maybe whispering to each other? – Wait a minute! Since they’re just spirits, they can talk as loud as they want without disrupting the performance!


I did a little ritual in my dressing room, looking up, talking out loud: “Hick, Eleanor! Come see the play tonight! Come together again, as the passionate lovers you once were, holding hands and enjoying your very own story, along with the audience! Come down to the Eureka Theatre tonight for HICK: A Love Story!”


Well.


We had many sound cues in HICK: A Love Story, over 80, I think. Sometimes it was music from the 30s to give the feeling of the era. Sometimes it was a sound effect like a train whistle. Mostly it was the actress, Paula Barish, speaking the words of the letter from Eleanor that Hick was reading to herself onstage at that moment. Paula did such a beautiful job of, not imitating, but evoking Eleanor. I always loved hearing her voice.


Sometime in the second act, one of Eleanor’s letters came on at the wrong time! That had never happened before (and it never happened again). Julie, who ran the sound board was very competent. Still, mistakes do happen. Everyone’s human (or are they??!?).


No biggie. I don’t think either of these glitches seriously compromised anyone’s enjoyment of the performance. They certainly didn’t affect me. I pride myself on being a trouper. Nothing throws me off.


When I left the theater, I walked by the sound booth, which is where the lighting and sound cues are executed. Inside, Pam, the stage manager, Bob the Girl, the lighting technician and Julie were talking excitedly. Pam seemed upset.  


I asked them what was going on. It turned out that the cue of Eleanor talking had gone off when Julie wasn’t even near the sound board!! Pam happened to be afraid of ghosts. I mean, this was a real fear. No one could figure out how it was possible for the cue to come on when Julie was not near the board. Julie and Bob were laughing about it, but Pam was really scared.


So that was Ghost Welcome Night at the Eureka. 

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

March 13 @ 7:30pm: I'm HICK again in SF!

 

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February 26, 2024


March 13 @ 7:30pm

I'm HICK again in SF!



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ONE NIGHT ONLY!


The Marsh & Lilith Theater Present


HICK: A Love Story

Based on Eleanor Roosevelt's 2336 Letters to Lorena Hickock


Wednesday, March 13 @ 7:30pm

The Marsh SF

1062 Valencia St.

MASKS REQUIRED!

ORDER TICKETS TODAY!


When Eleanor Roosevelt became First Lady in 1933, she had a lesbian lover: Lorena Hickok, the most famous woman journalist of her day. Their love affair and 30-year friendship is brought to life in my play.


I have the permission of the Roosevelt estate to use ER's actual letters in HICK: A Love Story. And when you hear what she wrote, you will have no doubt that the two women had a lesbian relationship.

Best of San Francisco Fringe 2019

Fringe Fave New York Fringe 2015


"Valiant, vivid & Valuable"

BALTIMORE SUN


"A performance full of love, pain & eloquence.... Baum is mesmerizing."

DC METRO


"A love story like no other."

SAN FRANCISCO EXAMINER

The photo at left is ER and Hick on their honeymoon. Even the people who refuse to acknowledge that they were LOVERS admit that Lorena Hickok gave ER support and mentoring that enabled her to blossom into the amazing person she became. And, in my opinion, what she became was the greatest American woman of the 20th century.


It was Hick's idea that ER should hold press conferences. It was a radical concept in 1933, that the ideas of a First Lady were of any interest to the general public. But Hick saw that ER was different, special, and she needed ways to reach the whole country.


Below is a photo of that historic first press conference held by a First Lady. You'll notice that it's all women reporters.

Although not worried about her own job at the Associated Press, Hick was concerned that so many women journalists were getting fired. If the First Lady's press conferences were for women journalists only, the papers would need at least one woman on staff. The only man who ever attended was the King of England. He was not invited. He crashed it. I guess he was offended by the idea he could not go absolutely anywhere he wanted.


I love Lorena Hickok the historical person and I love performing HICK: A Love Story. It's my dream to perform HICK forever.

AND BLOGGELINIS, I NEED YOUR SUPPORT

TO HELP MY DREAM COME TRUE!

THIS PERFORMANCE AT THE MARSH THEATER IS AN AUDITION for the director of the Marsh, so she can see two things:

  • The quality of my art (not worried about this)
  • the size of my audience (just a tad worried about this).

The Marsh actually gives actors a open-ended of one performance a week! Several of their current solo performers have been doing their show in this format for years.


If you live in the Bay Area, please come and see the latest version of HICK and show the Marsh that I can sell out the house! Bring a friend! Two! Three! It's not a big theater, so....

ORDER TICKETS TODAY


Thanks for your help and

please forward this email to any friends in the Bay Area

MORE INFO ON HICK, THE PLAY & THE PERSON



Bloggelinis: Can you imagine writing 2336 letters to one person?!? And Eleanor Roosevelt wasn't exactly spending her days lying around eating bonbons and dashing off lovelorn missives! She was actually MOCKED for how hard she worked. Of course, the letters that weren't about their love could be dictated to her secretary. But the special ones she had to write herself. Actually, there were MORE than 2336 letters. Hick did two major letter burnings. The first was with her sister. The second was with ER's daughter, who Hick remained close to, even after ER died. I guess she couldn't face throwing ER's letters in the fire without moral support. Were the incinerated letters even more explicitly sexual than the ones that survive? We'll never know. Terry


Friday, February 23, 2024

POLKA-DOTS UNLEASHED!

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February 20, 2024


POLKA-DOTS UNLEASHED!


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I visited the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art to see the exhibit of the art of Yayoi Kusama, who I learned from Google is "The Princess of Polka-Dots." Although the title is certainly a lovely alliteration of P's, quite frankly I find it belittling. Clearly, she is the queen of Polk-Dots! I, as the Polka-Dot Fool, bow before her has the reigning monarch of polka-dots, not just the heir apparent to the throne.


The exhibit has been extended through March. Tickets to see Yayoi's two Infinity Rooms must be reserved in advance, because Yayoi is incredibly popular.


TO MAKE A RESERVATION

TO SEE THE ART OF THE QUEEN OF POLKA-DOTS,

CLICK HERE.

Above, you see Yayoi going dotty herself. Now 94 years old, she always wears a red wig and a polka-dot dress for her rare public appearances.


I want to make it very clear that I did not buy anything especially for my visit to the Polka-Dot Queen. No, no, no. I already had every single blessed dot you see on my body. And quite a few more, as a matter of fact. But really, wearing three polka-dot scarves would be excessive, I'm sure you would agree, even on a visit to the Queen.


Now that I'm sitting here writing this, I'm thinking why oh why didn't I adorn myself with all my polka-dot scarves?!? If I'm going to be excessive, why not take it to the max? My Buddhist practice is supposed to liberate me to be my full and total self. I can see that I've got a lot more practicing to do. And shopping. Clearly I must have polka-dot pants, polka-dot shoes & a polka-dot hat!



ABOUT THE ARTIST


My deep plunge into Google reveals:


  • In the '60s, Kusama often covered her body with polka dots in naked demonstrations that protested the Vietnam War. Covered in the abstract pattern, she urged the public: “Obliterate your personality with polka dots. Become one with eternity. Become part of your environment."


And furthermore:

  • "Our earth is only one polka dot among a million stars in the cosmos. Polka dots are a way to infinity."



PUMPKINS FOREVER!


Here's me and Jessica, standing in the Hirschhorn Sculpture Garden in D.C. in front of Yayoi's other magnificent obsession:

The genesis of the Pumpkin theme is this: Born in 1929 in Japan, Yayoi grew up during World War II and the post-war years, times of terrible economic hardship. Sometimes the only thing they had to eat were pumpkins.


Now, most people, who are forced to eat a particular food in great quantities, develop a deep loathing for that food. I had a friend in Amsterdam who grew up in an orphanage with a peach orchard. During the summer, the children were condemned to eat peach after peach after peach, so that the harvest didn't go to waste. Even the sight of a peach now makes Maria nauseous.


And that was peaches, one of the most delectable foods known to humans. Imagine if your trauma food was pumpkins!! But that's Yayoi's modus operandi:


"I transform my trauma into art."


HER CHILDHOOD

And Yayoi did not experience just poverty and hunger. She started experiencing hallucinations as a child.


From Psychiatric News:

  • Around age 7, Kusama began hearing pumpkins, violets, and dogs talking to her. She often saw auras around objects and bursts of radiance along the mountainous skyline that made objects around her flash and glitter. “Whenever things like this happened, I would hurry back home and draw what I had just seen in my sketchbook,” she recalled in her autobiography. “Recording them helped to ease the shock and fear of the episodes. That is the origin of my pictures.


  • "Psychiatry was not as accepted in my youth as it is now,” she added, “and I had to struggle on my own with the anxiety, to say nothing of the visions and hallucinations that at times overwhelmed me."




TWO FRIENDS ALONG THE WAY

Yayoi had her first gallery show at 23 in 1952. One visitor was Dr. Nishimaru, a professor of psychiatry, who befriended her. He presented a paper at a conference, "Genius Woman Artist with Schizophrenic Tendency." Dr. Nishimaru urged her to move out of her parents' house. Being beaten and having her art destroyed by her mother had been a constant in the artist's life.


But it wasn't until the next year, 1953, that Yayoi made the connection that led her to the U.S. She was inspired by a book of Georgia O'Keefe's paintings -- so inspired that she sent O'Keefe 14 watercolors. O'Keefe forwarded Yayoi's art to several gallery owners, with her recommendation. And she told Yayoi she really needed to experience the art scene in New York City.



NEW YORK CITY

Based on the work received from O'Keefe, a gallery in Seattle offered Yayoi a solo show in 1954. She came to the U.S., spent a few months in Seattle and then moved to New York. It was there that she started doing performance art, becoming part of the artistic and political scene -- and where she started painting her iconic polka-dots. They reminded her of the thousands of white pebbles in the stream near her childhood home.


As you can imagine, life for a young Japanese woman in the (almost) totally male art scene in New York was not easy. Yayoi experienced again and again displaying innovative ideas in galleries, and having them copied by male artists -- who then got credit for something new and original.


As recorded in an article by Amelie Pascutto in Daily Art Magazine, :

  • Yayoi displayed an armchair covered in stuffed fabric penises in a group show. Claes Oldenburg. also part of the show, then immediately made a giant fabric piece of cake and was acclaimed for having invented stuffed fabric art.
  • Yayoi exhibited a room walled entirely with mirrors, reflecting the art on the floor and hanging from the ceiling (the first of her iconic "infinity rooms") -- and Lucas Samaras promptly did the same, and got oodles of attention for his brilliant new idea.
  • Then Andy Warhol made a room wallpapered with one repetitive image -- after he saw Yayoi's creation of the same thing. You'll never guess what happened: The world responded with great acclaim to Warhol's inspiration.


To be clear: There is nothing wrong with artists copying other artists' ideas. It would be difficult to imagine the history of art without this going on constantly. But to come up with radically new ways of creating art again and again -- and seeing other artists, all men, copy your ideas and being credited as innovators and pioneers again and again -- It must be more than a tad irritating.


BACK TO JAPAN

So, In 1977, Yayoi returned to Japan.


She voluntarily committed herself to a mental hospital in Tokyo. She lives there to this day, across the street from her studio.


From her autobiography, Infinity Net:

  • “Life in the hospital follows a fixed schedule. I retire at nine o’clock at night and wake up the next morning in time for a blood test at seven. At ten o’clock each morning I go to my studio and work until six or seven in the evening. In the evening, I write. These days I am able to concentrate fully on my work, with the result that since moving to Tokyo I have been extremely prolific.”


I am deeply moved by Yoyoi's courage. And I am grateful to the art-loving psychiatrist and our own Georgia O'Keefe, both of whom recognized her strange genius, and helped her along her path.


“I fight pain, anxiety, and fear every day,

and the only method I have found

that relieves my illness is to keep creating art.

I followed the thread of art

and somehow discovered a path

that would allow me to live."

What a remarkable life journey.

Out of the torment of mental illness

& childhood abuse,

she has created a playful art

that has given joy to millions.

Yayoi Kusama, I salute you!



Bloggelinis: If you go to the exhibit at SFMOMA, you won't find any mention of the artist's personal travails. I think that's a mistake, because her ability to transform trauma into art is truly inspiring. And I love her first name. Maybe her parents gave her a terrible childhood, but they gave her a great name. Yayoi. The mouth wants to say Yayoi. All for now. Terry

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

V-Day Thoughts from an Old Friend

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February 1, 2024



V-Day Thoughts from an Old Friend


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I sent my old friend Wilson this postcard from a Crackpot Crones show, as a Valentine's Day card. (Fabulous design by Melissa Walker). Wilson and I have been friends since we taught at Collegiate School in Manhattan in 1972. He taught English and I taught theater. It was THE ritzy day school for the male progeny of the rich and powerful. John Kennedy Jr., was a student. I loved teaching at Collegiate, thought I would stay there for the rest of my life. But they soon fired me for opening my big mouth once too often. Or was it three times too often? Let me just say: If the son of Seagrams's Liquor wants you to do a certain play and you want to keep your job -- DO THAT PLAY!


But that's another blog.


ANYHOW, Wilson responded with this rather stunning meditation on this cursed day, which has caused so much pain to so many:


Valentine?


I’ve never really understood St. Valentine’s Day. A confusing notion from the beginning. Introduced to it in 3rd grade, we (boys and girls) were set by Mrs. Hritz to the task of cutting out heart-shapes from colored paper and paper lace doilies and pasting them together into greeting cards. Then we wrote (copied from the blackboard) messages on the cards -- Be My Valentine or Please Be My Valentine or I Want You to Be My Valentine. The next step was to look around at the other kids and decide who to send this message to (boys to choose girls, girls to choose boys). On Valentine’s Day it would be a surprise – this was how we’d know who wanted us to be their Valentine. And we were supposed to want to be a Valentine ourselves, chosen as the object of someone’s desire.


But what were these Valentines? Not religious, we were told, but there were overtones because this notion of hearts and “love” was some kind of celebration of a guy called Saint Valentine. The Day was to be a pleasurable event, but what if nobody picked me to be their Valentine? Or what if somebody I thought was awful did?


The whole project and the uncomfortable exchange day in class were for many of us our introduction to the confusing notion of romantic love, since this (1953) was before TV sets were in every home, and the relatively few depictions of romance we had seen were at the movies. Thereafter (in the next years) came a slippery slope: cards turned into little and then bigger gifts, and the task became how to get someone to want us, and then … what if someone did? How would this work?


What have the sainted Valentine and his enablers gotten us into? Don’t they care about the ache of inevitable disappointments? Starting in third grade, it’s been a sort of continuing cultural indoctrination that we should hope for and expect, as our due, romantic fulfillment.


I do now sing along with the lyrics and enjoy the seduction of (the Right Reverend!) Al Green’s “Love and Happiness.” Although Mrs. Hritz (quite unintentionally, I’m sure) did set us up for bruises to come, I forgive because without it I might not have come to hear the truth of the blues, the reality that so often follows the Valentines.  I might have missed the experience of Ella Fitzgerald’s “You Don’t Know What Love Is,” and how about the short film of Bessie Smith delivering “Saint Louis Blues”?


So about all that early indoctrination I have no hard feelings … though we should mind the pitfalls when Valentine’s Day is near.