The View From Here #163: Summer, 2014

I last left you, gentle reader, at the end of the Orlando Fringe Festival, and am happy to report that the final two performances of that run sold out!

Pre-show Selfie with Brian Sikorski and Orlando Audience

I was sad to see that some of the high school students who’d come out specially to see my show were not able to get in, particularly as the capacity of the theatre was understated, with always a few empty seats, even in the “sell-outs.” And yet, all in all, I was grateful for a successful premiere.

Keeping the show under the 60-minute limit was always a challenge, and I think I averaged 58:30 for most of the run, though one performance started off with a screw up of the slide show, which set me back about 45 seconds before I even started!

I got to hang out with lots of old and new friends, staying with the Pergande’s once again; this year, they were also putting up Winnie and Brittney from Denver’s “Dangerous Theatre,” (photo, left) and Winnie even set up an engagement for performances in Denver this September!

Young Sam's interpretation of my show...

One of the youngest attendees at the show drew his own interpretive description of his weekend at the theatre, which quotes me at some length… (that's my sword, leaning up against the chair...)

Hanging out with DE Guys...!

With the festival closed, I made a strategic withdrawal to my friend, Jen’s condo, south of Orlando. Jen had relocated to a new job in South Carolina, which gave me the place to myself while diving in on a writing project which would demand a lot of concentration, parked at a desk for perhaps 10 hours a day over the course of two weeks.  

I was going “radio silent,” not even posting stuff on Facebook, while exploring a new version of “The Servant of Two Masters,” a play by the great Italian Commedia author, Carlo Goldoni. Given that Goldoni is about as close as we can get to the style of Moliere, I have long dreamed of doing a “Mooneyized” variation of this script in my usual rhymed iambic pentameter. The folks at the Annapolis Shakespeare Company had indicated an interest in the play, and I wanted to see to see if the rhyming magic would still effectively “cross over” from Moliere to Goldoni.

Michael Windsor & Jackie Madejski in ASC's "Scapin"
Photo by Joshua McKerrow

You may recall that Annapolis Shakespeare did a terrific presentation of my “Tartuffe” last summer, and that they have been working on both my “Scapin” and my “Imaginary Invalid” this year. And while I grappled with my new project, a 5-star review of the Annapolis production of my “Scapin” appeared on the DCMetroArts website:

Returning for their second annual "Comedy in the Courtyard" series, Annapolis Shakespeare Company is back and bringing the laughter to theatergoers of Annapolis. Right in the back courtyard of Reynolds Tavern, The Schemings of Scapin, a Moliere classic comedy, has all the hallmarks of hilarity -- mistaken identities, schemes, high end physical farce and enough 'private' jokes to flood the whole of Annapolis Harbor. An excellent evening out, this production will have you in stitches as the adaptation by Timothy Mooney brings modern rhyming couplets loaded with innuendo into the mix. Directed by the company's Founding Artistic Director, Sally Boyett, the show is high-end hilarity for all who stumble into this zany show... A great production, a fanciful fun evening of laughing all around, this is a brilliant performance to attend when trying to get a giggle from theatre this summer.

Lauren Turchin & Tim Torre in "Scapin"
Photo by Phillip Greenwood

With the wind of this success at my heels, I plugged away, only barely hinting to Sally (the director) that I was putting some work in on the project… not wanting to promise, without knowing that the words would once again achieve their fanciful heights. I set ten-pages-a-day as my goal and forced myself to grind it out, only occasionally running off for groceries or pushing away from the desk to exercise. I occasionally managed to trade e-mails with my good friend, Marcus, from Croatia, who has done a number of the “collage” promos for “Lot o’ Shakespeare” and “The Greatest Speech of All Time.” He was working with the latest pictures from Tisse Mallon, taken at the Orlando Fringe, and ultimately came up with the photo at the top of this blog, as well as this varation:

Photos by Tisse Mallon; Treatment by Marcus Fernando
Presumed author in background...

Gradually, the mass of the project grew. Five days into the writing, the first act of the play had been completed, and the second and third acts fell in another four, and three days respectively. Pushing the limits of my tolerance to sit and sit for hours on end (pun intended), I was eager to finish the play before a trip northward to see “Scapin.” I even managed a quick proofread of the play, catching lots of uncoupled rhymes, and unrythmic lines.

A message came through from the folks at the American Association of Community Theatres. Four years ago, with their “WorldFest” coming up in Venice, Florida, they’d asked me to replace a theatre group from Zimbabwe that was unable to make it to United States to attend the festival, and I’d stepped in with last-minute performances of “Moliere than Thou” to fill the slot.

It seemed that lightning was about to strike twice, as they were asking if I might have a show to present this year as well…?

I sent them my recent reviews for “Shakespeare’s Histories.”

I printed up copies of “Servant of Two Masters” and hit the road, dropping in on my buddy, Jon Tuttle, in South Carolina, and pushing on up to Annapolis. With a performance of “Scapin” slated for that night, I popped in on Sally at the ASC office, where I more-or-less dropped the “Servant” script into her lap.

The Cast of Annapolis Shakespeare Co's 
"Schemings of Scapin"
Photo by Joshua McKerrow

I don’t know if Sally was entirely surprised, but she did jump into action rather quickly, running off copies of the script, organizing an impromptu reading for that night, following “Scapin.”

Meanwhile, I was getting the royal treatment in Annapolis, with a huge room at a lovely hotel (the O’Callaghan) , just a few blocks from the Reynolds Tavern, where the performance was happening. The hotel owner/manager was an enthusiastic theatre supporter, and was sending his employees out to see performances of the show. When I went to check in at the front desk, the clerk, who had seen the show the week before, was already singing the praises of the show, not even knowing that I was involved.

The show, itself, was a blast. My only disappointment was that, having played Scapin just a few months before, I didn’t get to play along with this terrific cast, myself.

First ever reading of the new "Servant of Two Masters"!

After the show, Sally gathered the cast to do a reading of my new show, and a bunch of the actors stuck around. I assigned out roles, reading in the role of the servant (“Truffuldino”) myself.

It was lots of fun, with enough laughs to assure me that the “magic” was still there, but by the time we’d finished off the first act, many of the actors were drifting off, and so the following day, Sally and I ended up finishing off the reading with just the two of us trading off between all of the roles.  

Next stop: Charlotte, North Carolina, where Shakespeare Carolina was producing my verion of “The Misanthrope.” My previous drop-in on their rehearsal also included an interview which by now had shown up on YouTube: 

The take on “Misanthope” was quite different, a contemporary setting, with lots of texting and social media in place of the intercepted missives that cause so much trouble in Moliere’s original. The fellow playing the central character, Alceste (which I’ve played twice, now), gave a brilliant performance, supported by another dozen or so committed and devoted actors. The critics liked it too.

Celebrating with Heather Busch, 
director of "The Misanthrope"

After the show, I joined the actors for a quick post-show visit to the bar, but called it an early night, given that I needed to race off early the next morning, getting back to Orlando by mid-afternoon.

The Breakthrough Theatre of Winter Park had offered me the opportunity to do three more performances of “Shakespeare’s Histories” in their venue, as an “extension” of my Orlando Fringe performances. The owner, Wade Hair, was a warm theatre devotee, who really seemed to enjoy my show all three nights of the run. While the attendance was minimal, I could always spot his grin and sense his appreciation from the back of the house, where he was running the lights. He seemed particularly appreciative when I occasionally improvised a spontaneous use of the odd configuration of the platforms that had been set up in the space for their next show.

My last day in Orlando, my friend, and favorite photographer, Tisse, managed to pry me away from work long enough to go for a boat tour of Winter Park. It was a perfect day for it, and we passed a tree, on what seems to be the worlds tiniest island, just as a bird was just taking off, and Tisse snapped a perfect picture.

Photo by Tisse Mallon

In Venice, Florida, the American Association of Community Theatre’s “WorldFest” was getting underway. This time I’d been put on alert that it looked like the troupe from Togo (in Africa) was unable to get visa clearance, and that I’d be going in for them. And yet, the festival folks wanted to play it close to the chest, not announcing the replacement untl the last possible moment.

Out in the theatre lobby, I was maintaining my vendor booth, this time promoting my books almost exclusively (given that I wasn’t planning to maintain the tour as actively), and quite a number of folks who’d remembered “Moliere Than Thou” four years prior, were coming up to ask if I was going to perform again this year. Caught between wanting to celebrate the good news, and the need to hold back on any actual announcement, I was left teasing them with a vague “could be...!”

With the Venice Theatre's Bartender...
We have a similar colorist...

It wasn’t until the day before my first performance that we made the official announcement, as the genial pre-show host of the events announced that “Shakespeare’s Histories” would be replacing the group from Togo for three performances, and I paraded onto the stage wearing my Shakespearean jester hat, waving to the crowd.

My show was the partner show to a group from Canada, and after they struck their large set, I would proceed to set up my chair, my projector and broadsword. I was performing in the theatre’s small 100-seat studio, and the shows were pretty much “sold out” for the run. That sell-out, however, was for the “block” of performances, featuring the Canadian show and my own. By the time I took the stage for the first performance, the attendance seemed to have dropped to below half. It seems that the audience, originally sold on the notion of going to a performance by those Togolese, were not entirely convinced that “Shakespeare’s Histories” would be that fun.

This trend lessened as the week progressed, and word circulated, but I was always chagrined to see empty seats.

On the upside, however, I was happy to note that my books were selling quite well. There was a time, in fact, that I may have been outselling the Dramatic Publishing booth, right next door to mine.

A portion of these sales stemmed from the “breakneck pace” of my performance. Given that I’d prepped the show to squeeze into a single hour, many of the facts and dates zipped past faster than the average audience could absorb them and, should they want to actually retain these details, the book would be a helpful guide.

Ben Vereen with some guy in a hat

The special guest at this event was the brilliant Ben Vereen, who performed at the opening ceremony, and could be spotted wandering among the crowd most of the week. At one point, I was upstairs visiting my friend, Lisa, at her booth on the theatre’s balcony, and I spotted Ben Vereen approaching my own booth on the theatre’s Mezzanine level. I raced down the stairs and caught up with him before he moved on. The festival’s pre-show host, who was escorting him about, introduced us, and before I got the chance to say it, myself, Mr. Vereen commented that he was “honored to make [my] acquaintance,” and graciously reported that he was looking forward to seeing my show. Of course, I immediately had to post on Facebook: “Ben Vereen told me he was looking forward to seeing my show!” (Which picked up about 150 “likes” almost immediately.)

Alas, he never did, actually, show up to my show, but I did, at least, catch a photo with him (above).

One of the adjudicators at this festival, by the way, was a fellow from Denmark, who was quite impressed with “Shakespeare’s Histories.” His only critique was that he wanted to see me focus on a single Shakespeare play (rather than ten in a single hour), so that I might dive further into the emotional content of the characters. “Well, which did he have in mind?” I asked.

“You know, being from Denmark, of course, I’m rather partial to ‘Hamlet.’”

“Hm. Actually, I had been thinking of King Lear…”

“That’s a good one, too.”

Becky, Ron & I recreate a pose from 4 years ago

We left the conversation there, but the more thought I gave to this, the more I realized that the 80-year-old “King Lear” was a role that I probably still had a few years to work on, but that, perhaps, the clock was ticking on my opportunities to play “Hamlet.”

The festival in Venice was lots of fun, with many late-night parties, though my need to rehearse the show repeatedly kept me from getting too carried away after dark. The organizers of the festival expressed much gratitude for my willingness to step in at the last second, though I have to admit being quite disappointed that there was no recognition of my contribution to the festival at the closing night ceremony.

From Venice, my friend Lisa and I swung down to Sanibel Island for a bit of fun at the beach, but the lack of functional wi-fi at the hotel, and my own obsession over the workload I was facing kept me from being able to enjoy the holiday, and the next day I raced back up Interstate 75, on a long two-day drive to Chicago.

Sanibel Island

I had about two weeks before I would need to head on to the Kansas City, and the Minnesota Fringe Festivals. I needed to update my flyers and my press releases, as well as the books, themselves, to feature quotes from my Orlando reviews. I finished up the third draft of “Servant of Two Masters,” and began to rework my plans for the coming Fall term.

I’d had just a couple of “nibbles” for faculty positions in the course of my applications, and one of these nibbles led me to question just how much I might actually want to land the position in question. The option that I was anticipating was a good school which had the unfortunate downside of being “in the middle of nowhere.” Given that such a commitment would likely run up to mid-May, 2015, I realized that it would be impossible for me to take an acting job that might go into rehearsal in April. I was awash in ambivalence.

A teaching gig would, of course, have a certain amount of security to it, but was this simply a way of putting off the career move that I actively wanted to throw all of my energy behind? Was I delaying the inevitable risk of surviving on my wits (and my art) alone?

Of course, I’ve mostly been surviving on that alone (with the assistance of colleagues, friends and family across the country), for the last thirteen years… but now I was cutting way back on the one solution that had gotten me as far as it had.

I drew up a new plan.

Sunset over Jimmy Johns

I plotted out one final tour for the fall, which, in my head, I had begun to think of as the “First and Last-Month’s Rent Tour.” (The schedule is below, if you want to book me!) All empty portions of my summer were now filling up with a last second e-mail campaign, offering my shows at a low, low price that I haven’t offered in about ten years! (Again, the schedule is below, if you want to book me!)

I already had some requests on hand for performances and workshops for the coming fall (The Georgia Theatre Conference and Valparaiso and DePaul Universities), but just one more lap out west could bolster my ability to maintain a home wherever I ultimately landed.

And where THAT would be remains an open question. For the moment, the pros and cons have had me leaning toward Chicago and occasionally toward the Baltimore/DC/Annapolis area. (Of course, this last lap could find me falling in love with a whole new place…!)

Meanwhile, I was playing around with Hamlet… current working title: “Something about Hamlet.”

Taking a cue from my favorite TV series, “Slings and Arrows,” I decided to start with the six major soliloquies. (As Geoffrey Tennant says, “You nail those, everybody goes home happy.”)

We generally assume that the soliloquies are the most honest moments of any character, and Hamlet is a particularly difficult nut to crack, given his “antic disposition,” and his tendency to hide his true thoughts from those around him. I might well be able to build an understanding of the character, and eventually, the play, from the inside, out.

I didn’t know where this exploration would take me, or what this might eventually look like as a one-man show, (if it would even be a one-man show), but as I began to absorb the soliloquies, they grew in depth and texture and dynamics. I began to notice trends, understand how they held together, and how individual words contributed to the through-line, or reveal glimmers of character. And, what surprises me almost every time, is that speeches that have bewildered me for years, as they are absorbed into my being, begin to develop a theatrical power, a climax, or even a goofy idea that strikes me as being just right for the moment.

For instance: Hamlet is famously reticent about avenging his father’s death, or even expressing his anger about it, but given the opportunity to articulate his perspective on the theatre, he goes way beyond the bounds of dispassionate aesthetic criticism, and may even “split the ears of the groundlings” and “saw the air with his hand” as he complains about the tendency of the clowns to improvise material that is not “set down for them.” By the end of the speech, I find myself almost roaring out “That’s villainous and shows a most pitiful ambition in he that uses it!”

I'm taller than her, now...

Just a couple days before hitting the road once more, I found myself back at my old grade school, St. James, in Arlington Heights, to attend their production of “Oliver!”, one of the very first shows I ever appeared in, also at St. James, back when I was in 6^th grade! Through a series of coincidences, it also happened that my First Grade Teacher (yipes!) was attending this same show! I was reunited with Sister John Marie, perhaps 48 years later!

Back to the tour! Kansas City was next up! Early signs were good, as “Shakespeare’s Histories” was listed in a feature article in the Kansas City Star as “a hit at the Orlando International Fringe Festival in Florida this year.” (Of course, the only way that they knew that was because I’d stressed that fact in my recent press release!) ((Fortunately, they took my word for it.))

From the first performance, ticket sales in Kansas City were brisk. Pitch Magazine, which had given me a very nice review last year, was back again with a summary of the festival which included a review of my show that fit into a single parenthetical remark:

(Speaking of Shakespeare, are you Shakespeare-phobic or lacking background on England's royal past or maybe just forever hungry for the Bard? In Timothy Mooney's Shakespeare's Histories: Ten Epic Plays at a Breakneck Pace, seen Monday, his colorful and concise monologues on the historical plays combine famous Shakespeare text with an animated CliffsNotes take on English royal lineage that transfix, leaving you entertained and feeling smarter.) Liz Cook & Deborah Hirsch, The Pitch.com

And one of the most enthusiastic responders to last year’s “Greatest Speech of All Time” was back to review “Histories” for KCMetropolis.org. 

Is it possible to experience five centuries of history, literature, and drama in less than an hour? Turns out it’s not only possible, but entertaining and educational to boot. Mooney connects the dots between the plays, reveals the author’s liberties with factual events, and his penchant for having his reality-based characters wildly prophesying on anything and everything. Pillar of the English language and renowned dramatist, yes. Reliable historian? Not so much, but Mooney helps make it clear Shakespeare was trying to provide entertainment and social commentary with his English history plays more than an accurate telling. Mooney [points] out ironies and discrepancies with enthusiasm and determination… delivered with confidence and personality. He slips between narrator and character without missing a beat... There is a staggering amount of material packed into this mere 60 minutes—war, murder, deception, banishment, conquests, family drama, and much more. Mooney respects the audience in that he doesn’t dumb down Shakespeare, but makes it accessible, enjoyable, and fun.  – Kristin Shafel Omiccioli, KCMetropolis.org

And, an old friend, and fellow fringer, Robert Hubbard, provided one of my favorite reviews on KCStage.com: 

“I have seen a medicine/That's able to breathe life into a stone” [Although] this Shakespeare quotation would be more appropriate if it came from a history play, it effectively captures the magical alchemy taking place at the Westport Coffee House… Tim Mooney prescribes a sweet-tasting medicine that resuscitates some majestic old stones… breathing new life into some of the best set speeches in the history of theatre…. One of the most experienced solo performers around, Mooney’s performance soars along at an engaging and thrilling pace… It’s a great show. See it. Robert Hubbard, KCStage.com

As always, I had loads of fun at the KC Fringe, where my good friends, Allan and Sandy, put me up for the course of the fringe. My friend, Cat, a lighting designer, donated some fabric to cover the “throne” for my show (a wing-backed chair). I enjoyed the late-night arts bar gatherings, and was asked to host the late-night show for a couple of nights, the prospect of which used to intimidate me somewhat, but now I just recruit a few performers and sit back and enjoy the conversation.

All in all, my show averaged about 45 in attendance for each performance, which was a definite step up for the KC Fringe Festival, due, perhaps equally, to this being my fourth return to the festival (with good publicity and reviews) as to the festival taking a significant step up in exposure this year.

On to Minnesota! The Minnesota Fringe has likewise been a favorite of mine, and once again I was back at the Bryant-Lake Bowl.

While the atmosphere of the “BLB” is really fun, with the audience able to bring their beer (or their dinner) in to the theatre, there’s a funny shape to the auditorium, which places some of the audience perhaps as far as 30 feet away from the stage, while the bulk of floor-level seats are all within about 15 feet. Every once in a while, the loud air conditioning unit will kick on, or a bus or motorcycle can be heard passing by (the street is immediately behind the back wall of the stage). And, every now and then you can, of course, hear a pin drop… from the adjacent bowling alley.

This was the one venue which, all summer long, has had me concerned about timing. Between the distance of the audience, the audio interference, and the anticipated crowd reaction, I was apprehensive about being able to bring the show in under the required 60 minutes. After the KC shows were done, I combed back over the script once more, finding new cuts that I might make into the dialogue: removing twenty seconds of material from two speeches, and another ten seconds out of another… beautiful language, but perhaps repeating or reframing points that had already been made.

I was caught off-guard when my first performance, a 7:00 show on the opening night of the festival, was met by a small audience of only about 15 or so. (Even my opening night Kansas City show had over 40.)

It was hard to get the “pulse” of this particular crowd. Their scattered placement made them less unified in their reaction as the Orlando or Kansas City audiences had been. The one fellow that I was pretty sure was a reviewer seemed to be in a dour mood, and the laughs felt fewer and further between. Having amped myself up to perform to a packed house of perhaps 80, I was “pushing” in ways to which the crowd was not responding.

And yet, the first two reviews that showed up almost immediately, with the Pioneer Press, and with Aisle Say, were extremely good:

If only cramming for an exam were as enjoyable as Timothy Mooney's rapid-fire tour through five centuries of English history. It's an epic in an hour as the Chicago-based actor squeezes together 10 plays about seven kings and creates 23 distinct characters, each employing Shakespeare's sumptuously poetic words. PowerPoint helps with succession charts, but it's best when the exhaustingly energetic Mooney introduces you to rich, complex characters like the existentially conflicted Richard II or Joan of Arc as seen through Elizabethan eyes (the little witch). Mooney brings welcome clarity to what all those wars and words were about. -- Rob Hubbard, Pioneer Press (An entirely different Rob Hubbard from the one who reviewed my show in Kansas City!)

Timothy Mooney is a joy to watch in this one-man show, as he flies through the history of the English monarchy from 1066-1533 AD as explained through Shakespeare. It is an awesome thing to see, in the sense that it will fill you with awe -- awe that one person can not only remember all those names, dates, and details, but that he can also remember all those Shakespearean speeches, the different mannerisms and voices for each character, and make it all interesting... Timothy Mooney makes some sharp, witty insights into Shakespeare's choices in writing up his version of English history, and he truly brings the stories to life... If history and Shakespeare are two of your least favourite things, this obviously isn't the thing for you, but if you're even a little bit into either or both, do yourself a favour and go see this show, if only to marvel at Mooney's outstanding performance. -- Liz Byron, Aisle Say, Twin Cities 

Audience reviews were just as good, all four and five stars, with only one 2-star (“A derivitave Reduced Shakespeare Company-esque romp”) and one 3-star review (“There wasn’t enough difference in the presentation of the different characters.”).

My favorite comments:

• “Cliff Notes on Steroids,”
• “I’ve never come away disappointed from a Tim Mooney performance, and I surely did not from this one.”
• “Definitely will be in my top 5 (of the 52 I’ll see…),”
• “The history teacher you wish you had had in school”
• “The consummate theater nerd.”

To top things off, I just now noticed that Matthew Everett, who I’ve been promoting my material to since my very first time out to the Minnesota Fringe (in 2004?), did a quick review of the show on his Facebook page:

Shakespeare's Histories - finally saw a Tim Mooney show, and I might finally understand the context of the history plays, 5 stars. -- Matthew Everett

With Doug and Beth Rusk!

As always, I had loads of fun in Minnesota, visiting with people, some of whom had been back to see me for eight different shows by now (such as Nick of the now-famous Nick & Carolyn… a couple who met at the Fringe, now married with a small child)! My old college friends, Doug and Beth Rusk, who I haven't seen in ... many years, came out to see the show! It was great getting to know the new fringe staff led by Executive Director, Jeff Larson, and to hang out at Fringe Central and visit. (Following my 5-days-into-the-Fringe spontaneous addition to the line up last year, I felt that the warmth of the welcome I was getting had grown... or perhaps it’s just a sense of respect for someone who is badass enough to mount a show on a single day’s notice.)

Tim & Bill

My old friends Bill and Susan Wilkinson, who’d followed me ever since I hit the road back in 2002, drove in from Wisconsin to see the show. And my playwright-friend, Claudia Haas posted, “Ending MN Fringe with Tim Mooney because he is fearless and if you’re doing Shakespeare’s histories – you should be! Meanwhile, during the day I was pretty obsessed with running lines. (This time, the performances were averaging 59:30.)

When I wasn’t running lines during the day, I was promoting my late-announced tour.

The very last performance of the run in Minnesota may have been the best. Though not a packed house by any means, they were responding very actively. My opening speech from King John found me speaking to a “Hubert” perhaps two rows into the audience, shaking his hand while making it clear that he is to assassinate the 15 year-old Prince Arthur. And while I usually pick some helpless victim out of the audience to nod towards as the target of this intended murder, there were two boys, perhaps 10 and 12 years old in the front row, and, nodding in their direction, the horrifying weight of King John’s cruel intentions resonated through the audience, a shock which gave way to a macabre laugh.

Toward the end of the play, when Richard III informs Queen Elizabeth that he intends to wed her young daughter, and that she should “Make bold her bashful years with your… experience,” the woman that I directed the speech towards in the front row got so creeped out that she was writhing in disgust. In fact, she tried to squirm her way behind the pole that she was sitting next to.

Somewhere in there, the Annapolis Shakespeare Company production of my “Imaginary Invalid” opened, and got 4 ½ stars in DCMetrotheaterarts.com 

Back in Chicago, I was delighted to see that my friend and mentor Sue Paige had finally released her terrific "self-help" book, "Paiges of Wisdom." I'm a little prejudiced on this one, since I helped Sue design the cover and wrote a blub for the back of the book, but I highly recommend picking up a copy! Sue is the founder of Pathways, the group that has given me so much inspiration over the years. If you want a taste of what Pathways is about, this is a great place to start.

With the vast e-mail campaign now largely behind me (and at least ten bookings on the schedule for the coming fall), my point-of-focus shifted, in what felt like a subtle, but profound manner.

As ever, I have about a dozen projects either in immediate development, or planned for some time in the future, but rather than envisioning the endless chase of bookings as my immediate challenge (a black hole that never seems to fill to any satisfaction), I was starting to see my creative work as the end-in-and-of-itself.

These days, I find myself waking up in the morning and asking myself (or the voices in my head), “What do you want to work on today?”

In the audience at "The Schemings of Scapin"

And usually, my head, or my voices, have an answer.

And while much of most days is still filled with memorization (I’ve scheduled six entirely different one-man shows over the course of the coming fall!), I find myself challenged in other directions every day. 

Projects currently on my itinerary (some of which I have yet to get into gear on), include:

• Improving my voiceover production quality, reading “The Encyclopedia of Voiceover” by Kate McClanahan, and “ivoiceover” by Erik J. Martin.
• Creating a mini-voiceover studio, through an ingenious arrangement of foam baffling in a box.
• Rereading Stanislavsky… (Still seeking out his passage on Richard’s “I can change colors with the chameleon…” from “Henry VI, Part III.”)
• Writing/editing “How do you Remember All Those Lines?”
• Chasing down a literary agent.
• Scoping out the audition resources in Chicago.
• Memorizing “Hamlet”. (Ten major speeches memorized already!)
• Compiling a new “Shakespeare’s Histories” promo video. (NOW CREATED, SEE BELOW)
• Doing the “Audiobook” version of “Acting at the Speed of Life; Conquering Theatrical Style”
• Doing the “Audiobook” version of “Shakespeare’s Histories; Ten Epic Plays at a Breakneck Pace!” (My attempts to record a “live” version during the KC Fringe Festival suffered from technical breakdown.)
• Doing “Kindle” versions of all of my books.
• Sending out resumes to the major Chicago theatres.
• Re-introducing myself to the Standardized Patient community. (Actors who play patients in med schools.)
• Doing the next draft of “Currency”  (My self-help book)
• Doing the next draft of “Servant of Two Masters.”

What this represents to me is the beginning of taking these projects as ends in themselves. And, perhaps concordantly, of their value to the universe in-and-of their own right. In other words, the book promotion is not simply a kabuki dance to enhance my cred to increase my bookings (though it may well do that), but it could, and should, be a major income source. Especially with “Shakespeare’s Histories,” I think I’ve created something that can be a major contribution to our cultural understanding of some of our most important literary works.

Now it’s up to me to make that case.

"The Schemings of Scapin" in the Reynolds Tavern Courtyard
Photo by Joshua McKerrow

Temperature: Gradually descending into the 70s after a summer of 80s and 90s, with the sun going down earlier and earlier.

On Netflix: “Firefly” and “Serenity”.

On the I-pod: Anything by Caro Emerald, and “Everything is Awesome”

Ashlyn Thompson & Briana Manente in ASC's "Imaginary Invalid
Photo by Joshua McKerrow

Discoveries:  The “magic” is still there, when I take the risk to invoke its return. * Whether or not I have a show to push, just selling my books at conferences and festivals is worth the effort. * It helps that I’ve fashioned the perfect show for post-show book sales. * In chasing down “security,” am I simply putting off the career risk that I know that I need to take? * However bewildering or intimidating a project might seem to be, the very process of memorizing and absorbing it shows me the path for bringing it to theatrical life. And, thereby, perhaps the farther I stick my neck out in attempting impossible projects, the greater the upside when I find that life. * However certain I might be that the show is not going over with a given audience, I’m usually wrong. (The reverse is also true.) * Mounting a show with a single day’s notice is a kind of a badass thing to do. * All this creative work might well be an end in itself. And, perhaps, my most effective choice is to chase the thing that inspires me on any given day.

Next performance: At the Dangerous Theatre in Denver, September 5-13.

Timothy Mooney Repertory Theatre Tour Schedule

(Available dates in CAPITAL LETTERS; Already-booked dates in GREEN; Pending bookings in BLUE; Festival opportunities in RED)

MTT = “Moliere than Thou”; LoS = “Lot o’ Shakespeare; GSAT = “Greatest Speech of All Time”

FALL, 2014

9/2-3    IOWA / NEBRASKA

9/4       COLORADO

9/5-6    Dangerous Theatre, Denver, CO (LoS)

9/8-10  WYOMING / NEBRASKA / KANSAS / NEW MEXICO / UTAH

9/11-13 Dangerous Theatre, Denver, CO (LoS)

9/14-15 COLORADO

9/16-20 IDAHO

9/21-23 WASHINGTON

9/24-26 OREGON

9/27     Linfield College, McMinville, OR (Shakespeare’s Histories)

9/28-29 CALIFORNIA / NEVADA

9/30     Verde Valley School, Sedona, AZ (Workshops: Classical Acting/Life of Moliere)

10/1-2  TEXAS / NEW MEXICO

10/3     Texas Wesleyan University, Fort Worth, TX (Shakespeare’s Histories)

10/4-5  TEXAS / OKLAHOMA

10/6     John Brown University, Siloam Springs, AR

10/7-8  ALABAMA / GEORGIA / TENNESSEE

10/9-11 Georgia Theatre Conference, Columbus, GA (Criteria)

10/13   Valparaiso University, Valparaiso, IN (LoS)

10/14-15 INDIANA / ILLINOIS / MICHIGAN

10/16   DePaul University, Chicago, IL (MTT)

10/17-18  ILLINOIS / WISCONSIN

10/19-20  MINNESOTA

10/21   Central Lakes College, Brainerd, MN (GSAT)

10/22   ILLINOIS

10/23   INDIANA / MICHIGAN

10/24-26 MICHIGAN / OHIO

10/27-28 KENTUCKY / WEST VIRGINIA

10/28-29 St. Ann’s, Virginia

10/30  PENNSYLVANIA / VIRGINIA

10/31-11/4 MARYLAND

11/5     DELAWARE

11/6     NEW JERSEY

11/7     PENNSYLVANIA

11/8-11 NEW YORK

11/12-14  NEW ENGLAND

11/13   AATF-Connecticut, Southbury, CT

11/15-16  MARYLAND

11/17   VIRGINIA

11/18   NORTH CAROLINA

11/19   SOUTH CAROLINA

11/20   GEORGIA

11/21-23  FLORIDA

11/24   GEORGIA

11/25   TENNESSEE

The View From Here #162: Winter/Spring, 2014

Photo by Brian McConkey, Caption: Marcus Fernando

Yes, another chapter of “My Fab Life on the Road…!” Will it be the last?

Last January’s book release party went forward SANS book. While I had a couple copies of the final proof in hand, the book itself did not arrive until the day AFTER the performance, and I proceeded to drive copies around the Chicago area. 

Shakespeare's Histories! The first published copies!

The reviews showing up on Amazon included these terrific comments (have you posted yours yet?):

"This book is a must. Tim Mooney’s dazzling, encapsulated renditions of Shakespeare’s plays are robust, dedicated, and nothing short of brilliant artistry. Tim's knowledge and understanding of the work of William Shakespeare, and easily understood dissemination of same, are, for me, comparable to Carl Sagan's interpretation of the Cosmos. Only faster, and funnier." (Eduardo Santiago, award-winning author of “Midnight Rumba”)

 "This book and the performance based upon it do an outstanding job of explaining the larger context of Shakespeare's history plays in a manner that is detailed (but not overwhelmingly so), easy to understand (even for those less acquainted with the material), and above all, great fun. It should be required reading in classical theatre classes, and will be a welcome addition to the libraries of longtime Shakespeare aficionados, those newly enchanted with The Bard, and even those who may not have an interest in Shakespeare works per se (perish the thought), but who simply have an interest in history, and an appreciation of excellent history teachers." ("Lisaie")

"I just ordered the book after watching Tim Mooney perform the live version of “Shakespeare's Histories.” Breathtaking, mindblowing, fascinating, and witty (both Tim and Shakespeare.). I hope Tim willl do an audiobook so everyone can feel his knowledge, passion and humor. In the meantime, read the book or find his traveling shows! Bravo Tim, actor and author!!" (Bruce Bloom)

"Centuries of historical detail and drama strung together in a breathtaking journey! Gives a great bird's-eye view, and as the author says, 'now you know enough to learn all the rest...'" ("ALC")

"After seeing Mooney perform this compilation in an hour, I wanted nothing more than to download these plays to my Kindle and read them. High praise, considering that my prior familiarity with the histories was mostly confined to Henry V's Agincourt speech and "my kingdom for a horse." This book is both a playable script (for someone with genius memorization skills and excellent acting chops) and a handy guide to an important segment of Shakespeare's works. In an era of power grabs, class struggle and corruption, these histories are eminently relevant. Stop letting confusion about rose colors, royals, bastards and battles keep you away. Let Mooney's distilled histories, augmented with photos and helpful family trees, lead you once more into the breach, dear friends." (Julie S. Higginbotham)

The next day, I was back on the road again! I headed west to visit my long-time friends, Jeff and Karen Barker at Northwestern College in Iowa, where I performed “The Greatest Speech of All Time” to perhaps the largest, most appreciative group this show has seen, who were very caught up in the delicate, nuanced moral struggles that each of the characters were engaged in. As they went off to tally the hundred or so “ballots” from this very large crowd at the end of the play, I took a couple of questions, and one of the questions from this predominantly Christian crowd was, “Why didn’t I include a speech from Jesus as being one of the ‘Greatest speeches of all time?’” 

I quipped, “Well, He had an unfair advantage.” The audience laughed and we left it at that.

Checking the “ballots,” my favorite comment, left by the viewers was: “I felt like I was time travelling.”

I headed far, far south, to Laredo, Texas, where the college there was hosting me for performances of “Lot o’ Shakespeare” and “The Greatest Speech of All Time,” almost exactly a year to the day following last year's “Moliere than Thou” booking. These were both well-received, and I also gave an acting workshop, sponsored by the local community theatre.

Usually, I figure that it’s safe to schedule travel in Texas in January, but when the temperature dips below freezing in San Antonio, they freak out and close the highways that have overpasses, so the return trip north hit a major slowdown. Along the way, I got word from the anticipated next-show at Valparaiso University that, due to the extreme cold, school had been cancelled for the date of my show. (Curses!)

Carbondale, looking south on Highway 51

I did manage to pass through Carbondale, Illinois on my way back north, where I caught this sunset photo…!

With Rick Plummer

Speaking of Carbondale, I continued to Ludington, Michigan where my former SIU undergrad acting and voice teacher, Rick Plummer, was holding auditions for my “The Schemings of Scapin” at Westshore Community College. (Rick had already cast me as Scapin, but I wouldn’t be joining rehearsals for a couple of weeks yet.) He got just the number of actors that he needed to make the show work, partially by making his lovely and talented daughter, Emma, take the role of Zerbinette. 

With a brief break, I finally found the time to switch my computer BACK to the system that it had been using last summer. While Apple had promised that with “Mountain Lion” and the subsequent “Mavericks” would be significant improvements to “Snow Leopard,” I found my computer slowing to a crawl, and freezing up several times a day. It took a day or two to convince the tech support guy to help me restore the old system, but as soon as it was installed, my computer went back to working flawlessly. 

Trees outside of Westshore Community College

Heading east, Newman University (near Philadelphia) hosted me for a couple of very fun workshops: “The Life of Moliere” and “Shakespeare Spaghetti.” From there, I spent a long weekend visiting Maureen and Tim in Claiborne, from which they were now getting ready to relocate. Their home, which was perfect in fair weather, was suffering through a thoroughly frigid winter, with extremely little insulation. 

I managed to get in a visit with the charming and innovative Sally Boyette, the Artistic Director of the Annapolis Shakespeare Company, which had produced my “Tartuffe” last summer to terrific response. This summer, they are planning yet another production of “Scapin,” and we shared thoughts about that one, as well as other Moliere adaptations she was considering for the coming summer. 

From there, I headed on to Washington, DC, with two workshops and a performance at the Bullis School, before heading back to Michigan.

Isaac and I

I stopped in Ann Arbor a couple of days in advance of Isaac’s 20^th birthday. This semester, he started as an RA at the University of Michigan, with a very large apartment to himself, perhaps four or five times the size of the previous (shared) dorm room.

Back in Ludington (technically, Scottville, Michigan, though everyone seems to reference it as being Ludington), “Scapin” rehearsals were only barely underway, as conflicts and school closings had limited the early blocking work. Working on my lines, I was amazed at how quickly they were coming back. I hadn’t played the role since 1999, but they were still there, tucked away in the back of my head, waiting to reawaken. This phenomena of memorization was beginning to inspire me to launch my long-contemplated book on memorization, which I now decided to title, “How Do You Remember All Those Lines?” (The most oft-asked first question in any post-show Q&A.)

Word came to me that a scene from my “Imaginary Invalid” (as presented by East Central University) was invited to the ACTF Region 6 Conference, while my “Misanthrope” took first place in the Richmond Area High School theatre festival. I discovered that I was “in” at the Kansas City Fringe Festival and the Minnesota Fringe Festival (where I’ll be presenting “Shakespeare’s Histories; Ten Epic Plays at a Breakneck Pace!”). AND… my YouTube channel passed 200,000 views!

A friend at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, who was celebrating her birthday, challenged her friends to create flash-mob dance performances of the song “Happy,” to post to their you-tube sites. I didn’t have any flash mobs to work with, and it was freezing outside, so I created a “face dance” from my position at my chair. Just in case you aren’t thoroughly sick of that song yet, here it is again:

This video was shot, by the way, at a lovely bed and breakfast I was staying in while in Ludington: The Lamplighter Inn. The charming couple that runs it couldn’t have been more helpful throughout my stay, especially as the snow and the plunging temperatures led to my car’s battery freezing up a couple of times!  

Rehearsals plugged along at Westshore Community College, and I found myself drilling my lines three times a day in preparation for the show’s opening. I have taken to timing the run of my lines as a measure of how well they’ve been absorbed in my head. 

Gregory Marcus, LeAnna Engwall, and I in "The Schemings of Scapin" 

Working with Rick again was a real pleasure, and the cast was incredibly dedicated. I made a point of coming to rehearsal an hour early every night, and before long, more than half of the cast would also turn up early as well. This production broke my personal tradition of not performing Moliere in “commedia masks,” and Rick was giving me extremely free rein to improvise and create new “lazzi.” 

I particularly enjoyed adding new audience interaction bits, and embellishing on the routine in which Scapin flips back and forth, between playing himself and playing a series of supposed villains who have come to beat up Geronte, who is now hiding inside of a sack. At one point, these two characters started articulating their “t’s” in such a way as to spit in each others’ eyes. Which is hilariously absurd when you consider that it is the same character switching roles and somehow spitting in his own eye. Now and then I come up with a piece of schtick, assuming that the audience will never pick it up, but this time found myself delighted to hear that the cast (on stage the whole time), is finding it hysterical. 

The play was very well received, with “big laughs and spontaneous applause.” The print version of the feature story in the local paper was a bit more elaborate than the on-line verison, as it highlighted the point that this play was definitely “not boring.” (I think they had “Not Boring” as a bold sub-heading.)

It was a bittersweet goodbye to my new friends in Ludington, pushing on to my next engagement, but I was due to perform BOTH “Lot o’ Shakespeare” and “Moliere than Thou” at Alma College, in Alma, Michigan the very day after “Scapin” closed. Which meant that I would be performing six shows in the course of five days! My final days in Ludington were filled with drills of the two one-man shows in my head, while maintaining “Scapin's” performance-readiness. The Alma performances were just as successful as the Ludington shows, with a standing ovation at the end of “Lot o’ Shakespeare”!

Along with the bitter cold in Michigan, there was a ton of snow. When people use the phrase “lake effect snow,” Ludington, Michigan is exactly what they have in mind. It seemed to snow some six-to-ten inches every other day. I stayed indoors a lot, applying for more jobs.

And while there were a lot of applications going out, there was very little coming back in. I have a coterie of “recommenders” who have been writing some brilliant recommendations for me, but of the 40 or so applications, I’ve only received one noticeable “nibble” so far.

Which got me thinking.

Would it be so bad, if I didn’t get a “regular” job?

Might it not be great if I didn't get a regular job?

I started thinking about all of the things I might be available to do: audition, voiceover, local one-man performances (wherever “local” was). I could focus on getting an agent and promoting the new Shakespeare book, which I am increasingly convinced has a big audience out there, waiting.

And, so, IF I were to get back into the swing of life (as I left it, prior to setting off on the “big tour”), what steps ought I be taking?

I made an appointment to get new headshots done. 

I hadn’t done new headshots since prior to “the big tour…” some thirteen years ago. And not only had I grown a few more grey hairs, the nature of headshots had also changed, as color photos had nudged the traditional b&w shots out of the way.

I tried to drop a couple of the excess pounds I’d put on to survive the cold winter, and the pics that Brian McConkey created were really terrific. One Facebook friend, noting how very young I looked, remarked “I’ll have what he’s having!” To which I responded: “Try the Photoshop; it’s delicious.”

Photos by Brian McConkey

Back in Chicago, the weather finally warmed up enough to find the keys that I’d thought I’d lost in a snow-pile. It turned out that I’d actually lost them in a neighbor’s yard, when I paused to help her with her snow blower! (The car key doesn’t work any more.) 

On the road, I headed for Texas, once again, with shows and workshops in El Paso! My host had arranged events for me while he was traveling internationally, and I ended up shuttling to a bunch of high schools and colleges around the city, which had not quite been the original plan. My performances were at the Chamizal National Memorial, which seemed to have a really elaborate list of rules, most of which were fairly irrelevant to a one-man show, though they were quick to remind me of the great privilege to be performing at a National Memorial.

The first half of the performance, “Lot o’ Shakespeare,” featured some of my best stuff: “Hamlet,” “Julius Ceasar,” “Twelfth Night,” etc., but it was the second half of the show which seemed to make the biggest impression, as I returned to perform all of “Shakespeare’s Histories” for the group. (It was a small group, but most of them seemed to be Shakespeare afficionadoes.) I was much enthused for the performances of “Histories” that I’d be giving this summer on the fringe circuit, and very relieved that I made it through the many events of this visit without ripping out my voice in the dry El Paso air.

 
I visited with my new friend, Kate Mura, in Albuquerque (during which we discovered that I’d seen her in a show back in Chicago about a dozen years ago), passing through Flagstaff, and stopping in Las Vegas for a couple of days (where it turned out that Marcus and Shauna, a couple of my new friends from Ludington, just happened to be spending spring break).

I got back to Betty’s house in Idylwild, CA, where she was hosting a presentation of “Criteria, a One-Man Comic Sci-Fi Thriller”. This one was a favorite of Betty's from back when we first met, about ten years ago in Orlando. I hadn’t performed "Criteria" in perhaps two years, but spent the trip from El Paso “waking it back up” in my head. Again, Betty’s friends were very receptive. Between promotional efforts from Betty in California, and my sister, Maureen in Maryland, I have a couple of groupings of “fans” who come out in increasing numbers to catch these very informal performances. Given that “Criteria” was “awake” in my head again, I was looking forward to bringing this one back to Maryland.

Betty’s friends were kind enough to buy copies “Criteria” (the book), and two new reviews got posted to Amazon, as L.F. Salter called it:

“…A 5-star evening of gripping, thought provoking material. Written in 2002, the metaphor is stunningly timely for today...The story is funny, profound, tense, and a great read! …Tim's one-man performance of this (if one is lucky enough to see one) is a breathtakingly energetic and astonishing… His performance-insights and writing mastery will draw the reader into his arena with rapt empathy... You will laugh deeply, ponder profoundly, and wince knowingly! His presentational presence comes across even in his writing and will linger with you for days after the reading (or nag you into wanting to quote him at smug cocktail parties)!... For those of you who cannot witness Mr. Mooney's performance, his thin book is an engrossing page-turner!”

Meanwhile, another anonymous writer, “Prowler,” posted: 

“I recently saw Mr. Mooney perform "Criteria: A One-Man, Comic, Sci-Fi Thriller!" I was eager to see it, but I also must confess, I wondered whether the material would hold up more than a decade after the piece was written in the wake of the 9/11 attack on New York. I was delighted to have my fears punctured and put to rest. A really engaging piece that manages very quickly and succinctly and entertainingly bring the audience up to speed in a history lesson of the future and to place the audience solidly in its own world. Like the most deft of sci-fi writers, Mooney uses the genre not as a tool to talk about laser guns and spaceships, but as an opportunity to explore big and small questions of our lives today. He does so by focusing on the small things -- does humankind ever really change that much? And while we focus on the small things, thoughts of the bigger issues slip into our heads.”

I stopped for several days in Valencia to visit with Kirsten, while catching up on upkeep issues: getting the car emission vapor lock fixed (very expensive), and getting new eyeglasses (also very expensive). It seems that every time I get a nice paycheck from my publisher (royalties from productions of one of my Moliere plays), I have a corresponding breakdown of car/computer/eyeglasses… 

Is it that all of my good news comes with bad news attached to it, or that all of my bad news comes with good news to mitigate it? (I'm guessing this is the eternal half-full/half-empty conundrum.)

Mt. Shasta

I began serious progress on “How Do You Remember All Those Lines?” while working a bit more with Kirsten on her show, “Firecracker”.

Passing beautiful Mt. Shasta, I continued on up to Oregon where I dropped in on the Oregon Shakespeare Festival “Tudor Gift Shop.” You may recall that the woman at this shop (which also carries “Acting at the Speed of Life,” and “The Big Book of Moliere Monologues”) gave me the idea to publish “Shakespeare’s Histories.” When I showed her the now-published book, she was initially excited by it, until she heard the retail price was $19.95. I explained that the color illustrations made the increased price necessary, and she grudgingly took five copies for her store. Overnight, however, having read the book, she turned around and ordered ten more. It’s now available on their website, where she declares: 

“’Shakespeare's Histories; Ten Epic Plays at a Breakneck Pace!’ is a slim volume of clear, accessible explanations of the history behind Shakespeare's plays. Added to that is a dizzying performance text summarizing the plays, designed to be delivered in one hour-bet you can't do it! This is the most fun you'll ever have preparing for ‘Richard III’.” (Eileen Polk)

With Bill Luce

I dropped in on my brother Pat (and Kathy and Ryan), swung out to visit with William (“Belle of Amherst”) Luce, and continued on to Mount Hood Community College, where they were hosting “The Greatest Speech of All Time” and “Moliere than Thou.” My web-guy, Bruce, got a chance to see “Greatest Speech” for the first time (amid an audience of about 10 people), and I also got a chance to visit with my Oregon-theatre friend, Jo Strom Lane, who introduced me to Michael O’Neill, another hopeful touring-Shakespeare artist. 

Pushing eastward once more! I stopped in to say hello at Meridian High School (site of last fall’s surprise “Misanthrope” visit) on my way to Twin Falls, Idaho, and enjoyed a brief visit with Brenda Larsen in Twin Falls, who continues to work on new ways to present Homer's "Iliad" to her students. (She wants to do with Homer something akin to what I’ve been doing with Shakespeare and Moliere.) 

McCook Marquee

Continuing east, I pulled up in Laramie, Wyoming for a couple of days (where I noticed my allergies springing to life), before descending on McCook, Nebraska, where Clay Grizzle (who had previously booked me in Texas) was now booking me for his new school, Midlands Community College. It was nearing Shakespeare’s 450th birthday, and Clay was gearing up for a production of “The Complete Works… Abridged,” and so he booked “Lot o’ Shakespeare” and a workshop. 

It was an early evening performance in McCook (finishing with an enthusiastic standing ovation), and I made the 5-hour drive to Colorado Springs AFTER the show. (I pulled into Colorado Springs at about one in the morning!) I was, however, revived in time for a Moliere workshop at Colorado College, where the French teacher, hosting me for the second time, threw a lovely reception for me after that evening's performance.

The old homestead-now-McMansion

Racing on to Omaha, I got to visit with the staff of the Nebraska Shakespeare Festival folks once again, this time on Shakespeare’s birthday, where I won the “Shakespeare’s Birthday Pub Quiz” (which meant my bar tab was paid for for the night).

Working my way back to Chicago, I made a stop north of Milwaukee to visit my dear friend, Lisa, whose mother had recently passed away, and on back to Arlington Heights, where the old homestead, which, when we last visited, had been torn down, was now being built up into a McMansion.

TV hidden behind the painting

I had a performance of “Lot o’ Shakespeare” at the University of Cumberlands in Western Kentucky, followed quickly by both “Moliere than Thou” and “Lot o’ Shakespeare” at Seven Hills School in Cincinnati. The Seven Hills folks put me up in a really amazing hotel in Mariemont, Ohio, which was chock full of Tudor furnishings, and which even hid the flat-screen TV behind a painting!

End-of-semester activities dampened attendance at the Seven Hills event, and I ended up workshopping and performing to tiny audiences, though my host seemed greatly enthused, and one of the teachers (Barbara Karol) wrote to say “I was affected profoundly, loved every minute of seeing classics (even if tidbits) that I don't get to see very often.  I spoke to others who were there that night and they all loved your performance, too.”

Finally, I continued on to Clarion, Pennsylvania, where Clarion University (which had booked me to perform Moliere back in 2004 or so) was bringing me back for a long-awaited performance of “Lot o’ Shakespeare.” Clarion University is my late-cousin Mary’s alma mater, and it was great to hang out with the faculty that I’d gotten to know a decade prior, when they’d produced my “Tartuffe.”

And therein did the long National School Tour, finally come to an end. 

The View From Maureen's Porch

Which doesn’t mean that I am done with performing on the road…! I continued the next day on to visit Maureen and Tim, at their beautiful new home in St. Michael’s, this time working “Criteria” back up into readiness.

Experimentation with “Scapin” and with “Shakespeare’s Histories” has alerted me that three run-throughs of a given show in a single day is my magic number. Less than that, and I might struggle with remembering the exact word at the exact moment that I need it; more than that and the words become a little too rote, and I may actually forget whether or not I have already spoken a given line in performance. But over the course of three run-throughs, I may see the time that a particular play takes to recite descend from, say, 62 minutes, to 59 minutes to 56 minutes. (A fourth rehearsal may well creep back up to 60 minutes.)

Repetition is actually more impactful than study. The muscle memory of the speaking gives me the confidence that I am moving smoothly from the shaping of one word to another, without beginning to form odd, uncertain consonants along the way. (Just like the pianist who works endlessly on his or her scales, I continue to work the muscles needed to create my art.)

Outside the Claiborne Village Hall

I realize, hearing an actor proclaim something as "my art" always sounds pretentious. But at some point, we must actually establish that "art" is what we are about, or else we will ever consign ourselves to self-deprecating assessments of "luck" or "hackery."

Two days of 3-rehearsals-a-day worked “Criteria” back up in my head, and I performed the show at the Claiborne Village Hall once again. I’ve now performed for these folks five times, and each time the attendance has increased. This time, following a potluck and a town meeting, there were perhaps fifty in attendance. 

This show was also very generously received (lots of money in the tip jar!), followed by a brief intermission, a few Shakespeare monologues and a party.

A few days later, I traveled in to Annapolis to visit with the director and cast of “Scapin” at the Annapolis Shakespeare Company. Plans had shifted slightly since my last visit, and while ASC had previously intended to open the show on May 6 (which would've enabled me to be there for opening night) medical issues had backed up the opening night to May 20 (tonight, as I type this!). In addition, however, they have slated yet ANOTHER of my Moliere adaptations (“Imaginary Invalid”) for later in the summer, and are hinting that they’d like me to try my hand at a new adaptation: Goldoni’s “The Servant of Two Masters!”

The cast of "The Schemings of Scapin" in Annapolis

I caught lunch with Sally, the director, before the rehearsal, and got to hear these new actors trying out the lines from this now very-familiar play. Sally’s notes to the actors after the read-through gave me confidence that they’d emphasize the words with the kind of value that they apply to their Shakespearean work. She turned the floor over to me, and, having just performed this show, I shared my thoughts about interpretation, with some clues on the intended delivery and some of the psychological nuance surrounding the action. And then we went out for drinks.

The Cast of "The Misanthrope" in Charlotte

A couple of days later, I was on the way south, stopping to visit Shakespeare Carolina, which was ALSO in rehearsal with one of my plays: “The Misanthrope.” They put me up in a hotel for a couple of days, while I dropped in on a rehearsal, running through my acting workshop with them, and performing a couple of monologues. They gave me a “Shakespeare Carolina” t-shirt, we also went out for drinks afterwards and had a terrific visit. The next day, one of the actresses posted the following via the hashtag #MoliereIsMyHomeboy: “What an honor to get to meet our plays adapter, the ever talented Tim Mooney last night! Even more of a privilege to workshop with him! Theatre has stolen my [heart] once again!"

While I was there, a videographer captured some of the workshop and an interview as well (above)...

I shifted to working all “Shakespeare’s Histories” all the time. I was reciting the lines three times a day, and was easily getting my run-throughs under 55 minutes. I did a test performance for my friend, Jenn, in South Carolina, and even with this audience (of one), the performance clocked in under 58 minutes (audience usually adds at least 5 minutes). I was newly hopeful that the show would not get cut off in the waning moments by a technician eager to maintain Fringe regulations. I also found an app for my phone which would provide me with a digital timer big enough to read from about 15 feet away. I was running this with each successive run-through, and it was keeping me on track.

The new, green illustration!

Finally arrived in Orlando, I started coordinating my posters, flyers and “yard signs,” while drilling the lines, out by the pool in Al’s back yard. (Al and Gale are my “billets” in Orlando.) 

Meanwhile, I have received updated art for the “Shakespeare’s Histories” illustration from Lee Rushton. This time around, the sea is in GREEN, and it loses the “heaviness” that the previous black-sea illustration carried.

My three-hour tech rehearsal was also serving as a preview performance, and we took one hour to work through the cues and laptop/projection issues, another hour to race through the performance once, and the third hour with an invited audience. (In other words, I performed two full hours back-to-back.) There were at least three reviewers in the audience, along with some old friends who have seen just about everything I’ve performed in Orlando over the course of my seven or eight fringes here.

I had just one glitch. Somewhere in the middle of the Henry V “Saint Crispin’s Day” speech, my mind wandered off and I lost my place. A couple of blurting attempts failed to re-ignite the next line and I called to the technician for a cue. After a few odd seconds she spoke a phrase that launched me immediately back into the thick of the action, and the crowd let out a cheer. I had only probably been delayed by about 15 seconds, and I reinvigorated my attack through the remainder of the speech.

I was thrilled to hear some of the snide jokes that I had written (a whole year ago!) now getting big laughs, and I’m always gratified that things that strike me as particular funny also strike a chord with an audience, like describing the way that Queen Margaret forces the Duke of York to dry his tears with a handkerchief drenched in the blood of his dead son as “generally considered to be bad form.” 

The show checked in at around 57:30, and I was immediately off to the races again, this time readying a two-minute preview performance for the out-of-towners showcase that evening. I’d selected and decided against about a half-dozen sequences in short order, and when my technician asked what portion of the show I was going to do for the preview, I asked “What part do YOU think I should do?”

“I like the part where everybody stabs Prince Edward.”

“Great. That’s what I’ll do.”

In the midst of the chaos around the preview event (35 different acts, all nervously hanging out backstage), I figured out where I needed to start the performance so that it would climax with the stabbing scene, and still come in under the requisite two minutes. I transcribed the scene on my notebook, to remind myself of the very specific section that I was going to do, and then ran those lines about twenty times. I wasn’t scheduled to come on until late in the evening (I was 27^th), and so I took that time to drill that section again and again. (Which couldn’t help but improve that part of the show, anyway.) 

The performance went even better than hoped, with big laughs, as Prince Edward calls Richard III “mis-shapen Dick!” and even bigger laughs as I describe the three brothers killing Prince Edward, with the last, George, doing it “Perhaps out of peer pressure.” And as the audience filed out of the auditorium, nearly all of them willingly took the promotional postcards I was handing out.

The next day, the reviews started showing up on-line. Carl F. Gauze noted the special challenges of knowing the necessary history to appreciate the plots of these ten plays:

“…Mr. Mooney set out to clear all this up for us. He’s well equipped for the battle, there’s a PowerPoint presentation with org charts and performance reviews and color coded maps, the detail of medieval romantic politics are explored, and we run across all sorts of interesting women from Joan of Arc to Margaret of Anjou. Armed with a sword and defended by a slit-sleeved doublet, Mooney is the English teacher you always wish you had. His speeches are delivered with a fury that will rally the troops, and I think Shakespeare’s politics are beginning to invade my 20th century skull. You may well be exhausted by the end of the hour, and all you need do is sit still and clap. Yes, this is all the stuff that would be 3 credit hours in an English lit program, but this show is quicker, more fun, and doesn’t have that nasty midterm theme paper due.”

Later that day, some terrific new photos, taken by Tisse Haven at the preview performance (above and below) also appeared on-line. 

The next day, two MORE reviews showed up: first, from the Orlando Sentinel:

"Mooney nicely lays the groundwork for each speech he gives, with family tree diagrams, photos and boundless enthusiasm. I especially liked the segment on Shakespeare's "King John," in which the king urges a henchman to kill a rival — and then passes the blame onto him. The breakneck speed occasionally gets in the way of fully savoring Shakespeare's words — a dramatic pause or two would provide a bit more emotional variation. But such is Mooney's likeability that when he bobbles the St. Crispin's Day speech from "Henry V," as he did in a preview, the audience members cheer him when he recovers. They are, of course, cheering both for Mooney and for Shakespeare's glorious words that are too rarely heard." (Matt Palm)

And later that day, an even better one from the Orlando Weekly, that I can’t resist quoting at length:

"Clad in doublet, breeches and hose, Timothy Mooney goes HAM on the 10 history plays attributed to William Shakespeare, rapidly and deftly explicating the historical and geopolitical background of each play, then delivering choice bits of speeches from the relevant characters. His embodiment of figures from portly fun guy Falstaff to twisted creeper Richard III, from a horridly witchy Joan of Arc to a nastily lisping French Dauphin (oooh, that tennis-ball speech! It made my blood boil), is spookily impressive. Mooney has two settings: loud/fast and louder/faster. I don’t mean that to imply that he’s just shouting all over the place; his control over the material and his delivery of it is almost unbelievable. (Toward the end of the preview I attended, a patron behind me muttered, 'That’s insane,' in awe.) Watching SHAKESPEARE’S HISTORIES is somewhat like attending one of the most entertaining college-level English lectures ever; this is a man imparting a torrent of knowledge upon you, and it’s up to you to drink from the firehose.

"...If you are not an active hater of Shakespeare or of Elizabethan language (and fie upon you, if you are), I’d have to call this a do-not-miss show. Mooney’s rendition of two well-known battlefield speeches from Henry V — from Act 3, “Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood … Cry God for Harry, England and St. George!” and the St. Crispin’s Day speech, from the next act (“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers”) will stiffen your sinews and summon up your blood. What better way to leave a Fringe show than with the hair standing up on the back of your neck? And, program in hand, once more unto the breach, dear friends …" (Jessica Bryce Young)

The audiences have been great. With four performances under my belt, I'm starting to get the sense of what's really funny, and where the slightest pause, or bit of exaggeration will confirm to the audience that it is "safe to laugh." I’m doing an outdoor stage appearance tonight, doing Shakespeare Monologues By Request. Rumor has it that "Scapin" got great response Tuesday night (no sign of a review quite yet)…

"Scapin" in Annapolis

And so, it begins again. The Nationwide School Tour is done, though I’m still fielding requests to come out to perform here and there. (If you have a request for a residency or a performance visit, I'm carving out the time now!) I have a new play in hand ("Shakespeare's Histories") that’s getting universally positive response. There are concerns about the information going by too fast, but those issues are pretty-much baked-into-the-cake for now. I’ve got a summer of performing and promoting this show ahead of me, while looking for work, and getting more writing projects underway. 

The future is less defined for me than it has been in living memory, but perhaps that’s because I seem to have climaxed what has been and am ready to transform into what will be. I expect I’ll continue to recount my adventures here, but perhaps this is a conclusion, of sorts. See you on the other side.

Love,
Tim

Miles on the Escape: 197,000 (Total for the tour: 541,000 est.)

Temperature: 86 in Orlando

On the I-Pod: (The I-pod remains stolen; actually “on the I-tunes on my computer): Lonely Avenue (Ben Folds and Nick Hornby) and Pomplamoose.

On Netflix: Second pass through “Breaking Bad!”

Discoveries: However faintly and vaguely, once you memorize something, it remains in your head, perhaps for the rest of your life, waiting to be reawakened. * The quality of your connection to your lines can be reflected in the time that it takes you to recite them. * Never assume those little extra “finishing touches” you add to your character go unappreciated. * Am I chasing after “success” or "security?" * Is it that all of my good news comes with bad news attached to it, or that all of my bad news comes with good news to mitigate it? * Three run-throughs of a show on a given day is the magic number. * Just like the pianist who works endlessly on his or her scales, I continue to work the muscles needed to create my art. * Let someone else choose your preview scene! *
at some point, we must actually establish that "art" is what we are about, or else we will ever consign ourselves to self-deprecating assessments of "luck" or "hackery."

Next Performances: Sat & Sunday (May 24 & 25) in Orlando; July 17-27 at the KC Fringe and July 31-Aug 12 at the MN Fringe.