El Seed's Theatrical Revolution

Theatrical Politics

2007-12-10T00:59:00.000-06:00

The social climate in Des Moines is at a fever pitch. Right here, right now – the sense of being an American is so true. You can feel it on the street. The idea that in 3 weeks time the world will be looking at what you think of it, where your desires lie, and who you think best represents you.

I used to have a difficult time understanding which political candidate in any party for any race actually represent me. The artist is unrepresented in politics. And when we are, say, through some famous artist speaking out, we tend to be rejected by anyone who is not an artist. Now, while I will argue later that everyone is an artist, I can say that actually meeting the candidates, being able to stand in the same room as them, removes a great deal of their deity like structures. They seem more human and less royal. You can begin to decipher just who they are.

Plus – Des Moines is really cold in the winter. So any excuse to be inside is a bonus.

Been away from the old blog for a bit due to too many hours spent writing a 3500 word essay for The New York Theater Review which I had known about for 3 months, and only touched one week before it was due. I always work better under a deadline.

That and trying to buy this building.

Been some time since I’ve done an update on what exactly is happening in the world of The Des Moines Social Club. You can now view the entire plan at www.SubjectiveTheatre.org - and see just what it is I am up to.

Trying to plan the first not-for-profit that is normally a for-profit funding another not-for-profit. Wine and food paying for theatre. Should this be successful, this can serve as a model for all other not-for-profit structures. And this will aid in the way that so-called “non-artists” view us so-called “artists”. We will no longer be begging for money or relying upon a foundation structure whose rate will never catch up with that of new cultural institutions.

But I digress.

I have a few new allies in this grand fight for the greater of the goods. Both of these fine individuals work with me at The Embassy Club where I serve as Maitre d’, a title so medieval and morbid that it makes me nauseous at times.

Zach Prine and Chelsea Pickett. Servers at the club. Both possessing unnatural abilities to put their passion into words. Its what first drew me to them. Both unashamedly heroic in their quest to be who they are.

We have made many inroads, now that a team has been assembled. Our real-estate agent pro-bono sisters have teamed up to narrow down our building search to 1:

1408 Locust Street on Gateway Park in downtown Des Moines.
Pricetag: $1,590,000.00
Anyone who wants a great tax-deduction – apply here: ArtDir@SubjectiveTheatre.org
Space: 29,068 square feet on two floors
Architects: Undecided – currently being bid at by our two front-runners

Never done this before. Never had to hire an architect. And I find it a great deal like directing and finding a set designer. I have a very clear vision of what I want this thing to look like, and the architect has to be able to make this a reality.

This week is a big week. I have a meeting on Tuesday with the city of Des Moines. 2 weeks ago I met with Councilwoman Hensley who represents the district 1408 sits in. She went for the idea nearly instantly. Surprised, I was terribly pleased when she set up a meeting with the head of Economic Development for the City. That’s Tuesday.

I have no idea what this will bring. Could just be a good conversation about how the city wants this area to become a “cultural district”, or they could say “Hey – why don’t we buy the building for you…” and anything in between. I’m trying not to get caught up in thinking the latter.

But the social element here in Des Moines wants this. I feel it, and I hear it. At the bars at night, at the club during the day – ever since that New York Times article last week about Des Moines and how it is becoming “cool” mixed with every political junkie being stationed here – the sense of fulfillment of living in Des Moines is growing all around us and ready to burst.

An Update on the Iowa Caucuses from the Heart of it All: If the Caucuses Were in Vermont, America Would be Making Fuel Out of Maple Syrup

2007-11-10T13:35:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting at the 2007 Food and Family Farm Presidential Summit. The entire event is based on the policies of independent, private farmers represented by the state's Farmer's Union. Just met the guy who runs Niman Ranch, one of my favorite places to buy pork products from. Completely sustainable, just like all the farms represented here, everything is about organic foods created, packaged, bought, sold and enjoyed on your table LOCALLY. This is the Independent Farmers Network. Perhaps this should have headquarters with the Independent Artists Network of Iowa in my place.

Joe Biden is running late. I have a few minutes.

So far I've watched Obama, who was rather boring. All of the candidates speaking are essentially saying the same thing - (and they're all Democrats - although Ron Paul has a large booth set up behind me being the only Republican here) so you'd think each one would want to break out. Obama got up and spoke against Contained Animals, big corporations running everything, especially food and agriculture, and briefly alluded to how he is from our neighbor state and he knows Iowa, blah blah blah. Charlie Cook from the Cook Report was standing behind my table with the other press people, and I caught him saying: "Looks like the Senator's switch to decaf..."

Tonight is the big Jefferson Jackson dinner - the Democratic annual event when all the major players in the party come to Des Moines and listen to each other say the same things. I didn't get an invite to that, but I am here at this, and I'm rather enjoying myself.

The entire event is being emceed by the President of the Farmer's Union, an unassuming man who looks like Brian Doyle Murray and sounds like a typical mid-western farmer; soft spoken and to the point. As the candidates are coming in and out, there is plenty of time to schmooze...I make my way around the tables and while I am schmoozing as well (haven't schmoozed like this since NYC) I am mostly listening in...mostly to the press, who are circling the rooms like rabid dogs. The most disturbing image was at the table in front of me when Chris Dodd was giving a rather great speech, I thought.....

The table in front of me is full of elder, typical looking Iowan farmers, kindly faces, rotund bellies, sipping lemonade. They are hear to listen to what the presidential candidates would do for them, especially important as this week the Farm Bill is going through the Senate to much grumbling - those pesky democrats are at it again - not doing what they said, etc...and here are these farmers sitting in their get-up at the Marriott in downtown DSM, and there is a cameraman shoving his giant camera in their faces as Dodd is telling one story or another - it looked as though they were being probed by some alien device - they seemed so incredibly uncomfortable, and you know the only reason they were being filmed in the first place was because the cameraman thought: "Ooo! I can get the reaction of REAL farmers up close and personal reacting to what Dodd is saying - this will look great for the news tonight!" all the while the farmers, impossibly polite, squirm in their little seats terribly uncomfortable but not saying a word.

That is America. Right there.

Meanwhile, the rest of the press corp is right behind me yammering away, not even paying attention to what Dodd is saying. They could care less. A bit of conversation I picked up on...from one reporter to another behind me...:

"Yeah, I covered Edwards in '04..." / "Me too - I thought you looked familiar..." / "Yeah, I don't think he really has a sense of humor. I mean, I like what he says, but if you don't have..." / "....A sense of humor..." / "Yeah...but he's got great hair!" / "That's for sure..."

They went on like this for about 20 minutes. I gave up listening when Edwards showed up. I gotta say, of all the candidate speeches I've seen in my life, this one was amazing. Here's the deal, and really this has nothing to do with the fact that I support Edwards, it was just a great speech. I've seen him give crappy ones before...

Stage is set. Dodd has just spoken. It was a good speech, he got to a lot of people, and he did what all of the candidates who are not Clinton, Obama or Edwards are doing - making jokes like "Yes, I'm running for President as well..." and "Give a little thought to me...." and he listed what he's accomplished in his life which I was surprised to hear, and he did make one really good joke when he said, as the father of a 2 and 4 year old that he "is the only candidate who gets mail from both AARP and Pampers..." and there was milling around, lunch was served consisting of, you guessed it, all local products, delicious squash soup! and as everyone is sitting there satiated, Edwards arrives, about 12:30pm.

First off - being an Edwards supporter, I get the e-mails. I knew that at 1pm there is an Edwards Rally at the Hotel Fort Des Moines (right next to my apartment) that he has to be at. It's 12:30, he has to give a speech, and get about 20 blocks away in a half hour.

Secondly - he doesn't come in from backstage as the other candidates had. He comes in through the front door, camera lights flashing, that giant Edwards smile, and immediately the crowd erupts. Literally. The other speeches were full of muted applause, even for Obama. Everyone is on their feet, Edwards shakes hands, leaps up to the stage, and just goes for it. Here are two short clips, not the best quality as I have just learned how to do this with my phone, and not the best clips from the speech, but just to get an idea - they appear below cause I don't know how to put them here...

He walked in, gave the shortest speech of the day, rocked the house, and exited. Perfection. I loved it. Not to mention that he was right about all that he said.

Biden is here. I like Biden a lot, but not to be President. He should be Secretary of State. He has more foreign relations experience than anyone running in either party, the only one who comes close is Richardson, who I also like. It's that community thing - I just wish that everyone running for the Dem's, save Hillary, could be in the cabinet of an Edwards Presidency. A boy can dream.

God bless Biden. He's the only person in the world who can take nuclear proliferation of Iran and somehow tie it into local Farming issues. Amazing. The man is so incredibly honest. He's running with this "I've got nothing to lose" attitude. I love it.

But the big theme of the day: ETHANOL. I swear, if the caucuses were in Vermont, America would be making fuel out of maple syrup.

Z

The Memberless Community

2007-10-27T12:36:00.000-05:00

This may be your story. It is certainly mine. Please let me know if you had a similar reaction.

The Community Dish. There's a link on the side here if you wanna check it out.

I founded this organization in late 2002. Shortly before this I was deported from England and thrown out of France and moved to the one place in the world that would still let me be me - New York City.

I was and am obsessed with the Beats - Kerouac, Ginsberg, Corso and the like. More so when I was 22. Having read almost every imaginable story by them, I arrived in NYC with a feeling of excitement and entitlement - that, due to all of my diligent research, I was due a membership in this grand community of degenerate artists. The romance got me, really.

After about 6 months in NYC, combing the streets for where this "downtown" community of artists, and more specifically, theatre people, met - I hit a wall. There were thousands upon thousands of theatre artists, most my age, living in this city - yet I never seemed to come in contact with any unless I actually went to a show. Being that I wanted so much to be
involved in this world, and did not know where to find it, I founded the Community Dish.

At first it was a selfish desire to go crazy with other crazy people. And then it grew.

We began with 11 groups in December 2002. There are now over 100 members. However, numbers are ever deceiving.

In 2003 I did a study - to see just how many Off-Off groups produced work in NYC that year. The magic number I discovered - 1,019. Of that 1,019 there are maybe 100 who survive past the 3 year mark. Even less after 5. That means the other 919 groups are made up typically of recent college grads who, freshfaced, move to the city to start their own groups and seek out the fame of Wooster Group, Labryinth, Roundabout, The Public and others who started out in the dregs of downtown as no-name, obscure theatre companies. These 919 groups produce 1, maybe 2 shows, and die out due to lack of resources, funding, space, time or basic know-how of theatre production.

One could say - ok - basic Darwinism here - they weren't ready, so they tried and failed and hopefully will try again. Two BIG problems here:

1. Most of them do not try again, and before they even turn 25, walk away from theatre, their so called passion, to pursue a job that is "similar" in order to pay the bills once they realize the struggle of living in NYC.
2. Once they die, there are another 919 companies who show up next year to take their place and go through the same endless cycle.

I have repeated this argument many times to the annoyance of my old NYC peers who all say: "Yes - this is true, but what are ya gonna do...?"

There is a lot we can do.

But first - we have to ask ourselves a very basic question - are we peers?

The Dish is basically dead now as a meeting place, which is what is was intended to be - a PHYSICAL meeting place where we all knew we could at least see each other 6 times out of a year. Hardly anyone goes anymore, last I checked. But the Listserv is alive and grand. It's the most successful thing to come out of the Dish. First problem - we do LIVE theatre, yet we exist on a screen.

Second problem - the listserv is used to promote shows, ask for help with actors, set pieces, and most recently - apartment searching.

There was a letter sent to the Dish yesterday from a prominent theatre company who shall remain nameless. This group was advertising their 10th anniversary fundraiser. The letter was titled: "Starving Artist?" and began with "jokes" - a quote for you:

"... one thought keeps coming back to me - what were we thinking? I mean, it's a crazy idea, starting a not-for-profit theatre company in New York City, home of hundreds of other theatre companies, most of which fail in their first couple of years, with nothing more than a few small donations from a few close friends and family and the hard work and stubborn determination of three intrepid wanna-be theatre producing artists."

Reading this first paragraph enraged me. And it went on with chides like: "You are coming, aren't you?" and reminisced about the good old days at the Theatorium - the great old theatre which is now an empty shell on the corner of Stanton and Ridge - to talking about how they feel so comfy at their new digs at 59E59 (on 59th St.)

We don't fight to preserve what we once had, first off. But that's not what really upset me.

What worries me is that everything said in jest in the letter is actually true. And the subtle jokes of “You are coming, aren’t you?” are true. Without supreme attendance at this event they may not be able to have an 11th year. And so many other groups have the same problem. But we never meet in person, we never see each other’s shows – this person and I haven’t actually seen each other in person in well over 3 years. I don’t think he's ever seen a Subjective show, and the last show of his I saw was at least over 2 years ago. And I only came to see that because I knew one of the actors. We don’t hang out. We don’t do theatre together. We don’t even have friendly (or not so friendly) debates.

But we did when we first met at the Theatorium, o so many years ago.

So I ask a basic question – are we peers? Or are we actually competitors for the same grants, donations, space and audience members?

Because peers do not behave like this. The way that theatre people are behaving nowadays are like corporations - we are friendly to one another when we come in contact, but we don't promote each other and we fight for the same piece of the pie.

Is this art? Is this community? Is this family? What is this?

I am sorry to single out the writer of this letter, to be fair - it's not just him - it's all of us, myself included. We have let this situation get far out of control. My thoughts on symptoms are clear - over saturation and the fact that we all have to work 2 or 3 jobs just to keep our passion alive - so we don't have time to even see our "peers" work.

So let's be honest - we have a memberless community. Now let's fix it for godsakes.

And let's start with not charging $30 for "Starving Artists".

Siciliy, Chicago

2007-10-22T11:05:00.000-05:00

Been some time since I've been on here - my last week has been a whirlwind of political excitement, wine drinking debauchery and general misconduct glammed between NYC and Chicago.

I'm sitting in Chicago at the moment at my oldest friend's James Griffith's apartment. James, as some of you may remember from my former blog, is going for his doctorate in Continental Philosophy at DePaul. As I said before, he reads a lot. But I'm in Chicago not to read, but to attend a Sicilian wine tasting this afternoon down in the Loop. I am here for work, my job asked me to come, or rather - I went to them and told them I needed to and they shot me gas money.

Great to be back on the road - I'm taking full advantage of being in the mid-west - river-jumping from city to city.

As I said, there is much to report - new building, new job, new new new. And of course, what happened in NYC, unlike Vegas, does not stay in NYC. More on all of that soon once I return to DSM. Right now I have to go drink wine. It's 11am. Gonna be a long, wonderful day here in Chicago.

Fed Up With My Second Life

2007-10-12T11:08:00.000-05:00

Let's continue to debate, Mr. Huttler, shall we?

http://www.fracturedatlas.org/site/blogs/post/adamthehutt/4667775802422093639

Second Life, huh? Buying an arts complex for a few "virtual" dollars. Couldn't help but think that was not a slight allusion towards the complex I am trying to open, and of course the dream complexes every artist dreams of.

Here's the deal, first as a spirited anti-capitalist (and btw Adam - how does someone call himself a capitalist when he is the founder and director of one of the most fabulous organizations on the planet that proposes to: "Most of what Fractured Atlas does is about leveling the playing field for artists and arts organizations." I love you) I have to jump in here on two fronts.

First off - a large part of the arts is to bring people together and create community, much like the other blog debate we are having. And I believe that bringing people together needs to be done PHYSICALLY, not online, and certainly not by taking a huge step past that and creating an entirely fictitious life online to live out the dreams you have in your real life.

We should be encouraging artists to get their dream complexes and whatever else in their REAL lives.

And to sound extremely old school, theatre is live and needs to remain live. Even film, which could be seen as the prevalent art form in one's virtual life, still does not exist without an audience. For the 21st century, let's make sure that audiences for film, theatre and all other art forms remains LIVE. Otherwise we may find ourselves increasingly giving up on the dreams of our waking life, and focusing only on the dreams of our "second life".

Is Community an Enemy of Creativity? Ask your Parents.

2007-10-11T15:00:00.000-05:00

In response to Adam Huttler's: http://www.fracturedatlas.org/site/blogs/post/adamthehutt/6621507214327300834

I believe this goes to the root of the problem which is: Can you be active in a community and retain your full-blooded individuality at the same time? Kierkegaard touched upon this again and again in The Present Age, but he never really answered the question.

I don't know either. But I'm seeking to figure it out. And I don't think it's place that causes any of this, it's people who make up the place. The larger cities attract more people due to their largeness, and therefore there is more competition, even in the arts, and therefore there are more losers, and therefore there are more unhappy, potentially lonely people.

In Des Moines there is a population of roughly 200,000 and growing. There is little to no competition here, unless you consider the fact that this is the Insurance capital of the world (sorry Hartford). Not surprisingly, among the arts, there is a sort of harmonious community, albeit small, but it does exist - mostly live music. There is great support for fellow artists here, unlike NYC. In NYC it's not as if we don't want to support each other (well, sometimes, I mean, it is NYC and you have to be cutthroat which is disgusting but true) but we don't have TIME to support each other. We're all working 2 or 3 jobs in order to keep making art and paying rent.

In Des Moines that is not the case. Once I get my theatre going it will be self-sufficient, and I won't have to work at another job. Now I could go the route of charging for theatre, but again, I don't believe art should cost money. And I don't want anyone to give their money either through grant or personal donation (at the beginning this is necessary, but once my startup is over, no more handouts - there's my disclaimer).

But to answer Mr. Huttler's existential question - no. Community is not the enemy of Creativity. The problem is seeking out the CORRECT community in order to inspire creativity. Some communities just aren't cut out for this and die off - like the 1960's, for instance. That grand community served its purpose, and died. Should it have lasted? I don't know. Ask your parents.

Lofts Are the New Brechtian Device - and PICS!

2007-10-08T22:27:00.000-05:00

Lofts are the new Brechtian device.

This morning I woke after 2 hours of no sleep and stumbled my way into a meeting I had no business being at. I had business to conduct, after all, but I'm a bad negotiater. The most expensive thing I've ever bough was a used Hyundai. Never a $1.6 million building.

Now - for those in NYC - imagine what $1.6 million gets you? A nice 1-bedroom in the village. Here - 29,000 sq. feet. I like Des Moines.

But as I said, I'm a bad negotiater. I like most everyone I meet. I don't know how to play "hard ball". I genuinely avoid conflict unless it has to do with ideological discourse, other than that I'm a pretty nice guy.

Lucky for me the owner of this building is also the Assistant Majority Leader in the Iowa State Senate and a very nice guy himself, Jack Hatch, Democrat. I feel it's important to point out that he is a democrat. Which is ridiculous, as it does not fit in with my whole non-titling conceptual mess I have been in since 2004 when I gave up on parties all together and believe that we need to move to a Parliamentary system. But that has nothing to do with buying this building. Or rather, if it does, it has not made itself evident as yet.

I have two options - as there are two buildings, both next to each other, and both owned by Hatch's development company. One is for sale as I mentioned above, the other is for lease - but not the entire building.

The one for lease is a historic landmark, only so far as the front phasod has been kept in tact, which means tax deductions on property tax. The other only qualified for 10% historical tax abatement, as the phasod is, well, gone.

I learned a great deal this morning. First and foremost, I got a taste of what it's like to negotiate the purchase of a building. But more importantly, I got a little history lesson of Des Moines.

The area these buildings are in is downtown, about 4 blocks west of the skyscrapers. To give you a good sense of this, the downtown skyscraper area of Des Moines is about a 15 block radius. Then you have the outer lining circle of old warehouses either bought and fixed up into, normally, lofts - or about to be. And then it's trees and houses and sparkling suburbia. And finally, finally, at least 30 miles out - corn.

All of this is easily seen from my perch on the 41st floor at the epicenter of all of this explosion. Des Moines is about to become something. O Des Moines.

When I was little, and older still, I used to wonder what brought my parents to tiny Holland, Pennsylvania when both of them were from NYC.

But back to the case at hand - these buildings. I have some decisions to make. And LOTS of money to raise.

The area where these buildings are situated next to one another is directly across the street from Gateway Park, a park, I learned, which has only been around for a few years, the area that used to occupy the park was dilapidated and vacant warehouses. Those were destroyed, and the buildings that remained were salvagable. Two of those salvagable buildings are the ones I am considering.

Once I answered the inveibtable question "What the hell did you move to Des Moines for?" which, I should have expected, everyone who I encounter has asked me, one of Hatch's assistants said: "Yeah, a few years ago, if you were driving through Des Moines, you wouldn't have stopped. That area was terrible, and most of Des Moines just went about their business, thinking, well, that's the way it has always been and the way it always will be. It drove people out of the city."

So that's what the land used to be.

Now - Gateway Park is about to change even more. There is a gentlemen in town named Pappajohn (no, not of pizza fame, I asked) and he has bought up a lot of land and turned it into wonderful things, mostly modern school classrooms for the over populated DMACC (Des Moines Area Community College) and other local schools. He is now turning the grassy area directly across the street from my building into a sculpture garden. Could this be any better?

The Pics above, as I have no idea how to post photos properly:

View from my dining room (Yes - it's a real city!) This is the 41st floor - that's the Des Moines River and Raccoon River intersecting - don't mind the glare of the floating lights)
Gateway Park and Downtown Des Moines
Gateway Park
Building for Lease
Building for Sale

Tomorrow I leave for NYC for a wedding and to meet with potential "Investors". O how that word frightens me.

Raise a glass and cheer to the hope that I return after my weekend rundown of old NYC.

Seeking a Building with a Dry Basement

2007-10-08T03:06:00.001-05:00

I missed the rain twice today. Sat in a chair most of the afternoon going through wine portfolios creating a new list for work. Both times that I went outside to give into the ever surmounting urge of a cigarette the earth was wet. Though I never actually saw it rain.

Did I miss the rain or did it miss me?

Reinventing myself is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I've had to do it before, but these the most extreme of circumstances. Every other time I knew I would be returning to those I love, or I was with someone I loved. This time, neither. This time, it's just me.

Now. I could sink into depression. But that would be easy. How lovely the scent of depression smells in a room filled with dust.

I will not let that occur.

Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with a man who owns a building I would like to buy. I toured the building last week - and it's wonderful. It has the potential to hold all that I want to fill it with. I have to make my dreams take place. There is no other course of action.

This will not be the last building I see. Or it could be, if it all works out. But I have to keep reminding myself why I came here, what I came here for, to do, to work, to love, to play, to learn. I am getting some of that now.

New models. New people. New place. New new new. New used to excite me. And it does, at times. Currently it's the most frightening thing I've ever faced.

Perhaps I am getting old. I feel old. I don't feel like moving. I felt this way at the end of NYC as well. I thought what I needed was a change, what I needed for me, besides the greater good. I thought once I got here, I would be so motivated because of all the new stimulus around me - like how I felt when I moved to Chicago, to London, to Amsterdam, to New York. I don't feel that way now. I get twinges of it. And the only reasoning I can come up with is that I have aged.

I must find a way to channel this age into something positive. I don't mind aging - I mean really - what's the point in that? It cannot be stopped. So why worry about that? But I do find myself worrying about where I am in my life. Not money, or job, or status, or my creativity. But me. Sometimes I feel like this is not me at all, that I am watching myself go through all of this, that I am somewhere else, somewhere distant. Sometimes I imagine that I am back in New York reading what I am typing at the moment. And when I read it, I say: "Get up off your ass and be productive for godsakes! Do something!" And in those moments I feel reconnected with myself. And I know that I am here. And I know that I never want to miss the rain again.

God Says You Should Work on Sundays

2007-10-07T02:59:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I wake up I have nothing to do.

Nothing - if you consider that my JOB is closed tomorrow, so I don't have to go to work.

I don't have a family.

I don't have a girl (at the moment - this should be remedied straight away)

And I have some friends here in Des Moines now, but none of them have called upon me to hang out tomorrow.

So - in all actuality, all I have to do tomorrow is...nothing.

I can wake up, get drunk, and go back to sleep again if I please.

And there are many who, in this situation, would do just that.

Tomorrow is Sunday. No matter what this blog post tells you. Yes - technically, today is Sunday, but I subscribe to what Tom Waits once said - "It's never the next day, until you've gone to sleep and wake back up again." And if this is true - I am 9 years old.

But what I'm getting at, in a round-about way, is that yes, God rested on the 7th day, and why should not I? For one reason and one reason only - when God made the world, it was perfect. What was not to be perfect at that time? It was the beginning of everything. We have yet to see perfection since then.

So - if the world was perfect, I too would rest on the 7th day. But the world is not perfect. Far from it. There is much work to be done. So no 7th day resting for me.

Tomorrow I will do many things. I will get in further touch with the Edwards campaign. I will write the manifesto I've been meaning to write to the 12 theatre companies across the nation who will make up the National Independent Theatre Community. I will try to find out why I have to pay the parking ticket I got last week. And I will write to you - the real democracy, the ones who exists to help yourself at the same time as helping others. The ones who understand the value of a day.

So - tomorrow - and every Sunday - we will work to make the world a better place. And once it is, we shall rest. And finally watch the Philadelphia Eagles win something meaningful, thank God.

The Triangle of Unsanitary Mouthwash

2007-10-04T21:46:00.000-05:00

Two nights ago, during a particularly hard fought bought with loneliness mixed into ecstasy of new place blues I went out drinking. Surprise surprise.

All of downtown Des Moines is awash in lofts - lofts Lofts LOFTS! To the sunlit sky roof of lofts! I read the papers. It's a renters market. Ain't no one living in most of these lofts. Now there are two buildings where they used to build old cars down on 10th and Cherry called the 10th Street Lofts. They rent out. It is here, in #108, where I reside. Send me things.

10th Street Lofts are nestled between three rather incriminating and debaucherous institutions. First, it must be made clear, that downtown DM is a mini-NYC. You've got your shiny tall buildings (skyscrapers, they call them out here, the tallest of which I work in at the top top floor and I've been told this is the tallest building between Chicago and Denver) and then smack up against them you've got warehouses, vacant, some not (the vacant ones I came out here to jump into). And it's wonderful! These old buildings crumble into bohemian sinkholes - exposed brick and air ducts! Morgan Ave butting its way into the Empire State. I walk to work.

But these three institutions - to the east - an overnight penitentiary for DUI's, to the south, an all night porn-shop aptly named The Gallery where they charge you $1 to even walk in the door, and to the north Raccoon River Brewery. A man can get into a lot of trouble in this little triangle of unsanitary mouthwash.

It was here at Raccoon where they have a beautiful bar I have been spending many of my evenings. I've apparently been here long enough to be entered into the regular club - the kind where you tell them you're in the business and you tip real well and are rewarded with prompt service and drinks that you know you drank which have mysteriously disappeared from your bill.

And so two nights ago I stumbled the 40 feet home and onto my air mattress I fell. I remember pulling my computer out and the NY Times website was on the homepage. And then I fell asleep.

This morning I woke up and opened the NY Times and went about my reading/coffee/trying not to smoke ritual. And there on the letters page was my name. Below a letter. That it said I wrote:

www.nytimes.com/2007/10/04/opinion/lweb04brooks.html?_r=1&ref=opinion&oref=slogin

Second letter down.

Unpacking to Begin

2007-10-04T01:12:00.001-05:00

So sad this unpacking. So sad and deliciously misunderstood.

Took me over 2 weeks to be reunited with my stuff. Really, I haven't seen any of it since mid-May, but I didn't expect to. The Moving Experts weren't so expert in their on time delivery. But little to the point. Unpacking. Sad. Just as any unpacking or packing can be. Reverting through all of the old things...o o O how you read this and think: "Yes, I've packed and unpacked, yes it's sad, yes looking at all of the old pictures, mementos, STUFF, yes yes yes..." and so I rest my case.

New city. New life.

What gets me is that I didn't take anyone I knew. I only took my stuff. Does this mean that all of my people are really this stuff? Is that sad or enlightening? Both, perhaps? You tell me.

And my dependence upon material items is not sad. I don't own anything specific. Or rather, I don't own anything that anyone would want. I own memories of my life. Who would want that but me? It's not worth anything. Museums can't charge admission to see it. So what is all of this stuff?

It is the unraveled me. If I could stretch my intestines for miles and add my heart and mind into the center along with a few metacarpals, you'd have me made up on paper. If a butcher were so kind to lend me his services on both fronts.

The feeling of liberation was so strong. For months, nothing. No stuff. Just me, my car, 2 bags of clothes and my laptop. And that tent. That evil evil tent.

And now. Liberation? I've lived without these 14 boxes of books, couch, desk, bed, table and wine fridges (ok, the wine fridges are important) for well over 3 months now. And I felt no desire of need for them. Nothing. And yet here they all are. What do I do with them now?

There was a moment a week ago where I could have lived with nothing but this computer. And then, once I begin making contact with others, this computer would become null and void. So I needed only a bag of clothes and a place to lay down. This is so hobo, yes, and romanticized, yes, and deeply deeply cliched, but it was the truth. I had nothing but that. And yet I still breathed. And ate. And loved. So really - what's with all this stuff?

Unpacking my mind is easier to do than unpacking 3 month old boxes.

Capitalism vs. Art - The Struggle Continues

2007-10-01T23:07:00.000-05:00

Des Moines, 2007. The true beating heart of America. Of the world. You want a place where people get along? Come to Des Moines. The diversity may not be here. The population may not be here. But people co-exist, amongst each other, devoid of competition, at least as devoid as they can be. This is where I’ve always belonged. It has taken me 30 years to find. And the finality is so terribly far away.

My generation.

My American generation chooses one of two paths. Both are easy. The first, live your life, make money in the system that is provided, conform all that you can, provide for your family, and then die leaving behind life lessons, life insurance and an inheritance to those still alive who share your blood.

The other – reject all that this country and this life have offered you, and flee to another country or frame of mind, fight the system from the comfort of your treehouse.

Both of the paths before us are devoid of the other. The first path does not come in contact with the artist. The second path does not come in contact with the regular person. Without knowledge of both worlds we will never achieve the same world, and that is the ultimate goal. All of us are artists. All of us are regular people. Yet without the understanding of the other, we will never form into one.

Protest.

Protest is boring. Protest does not solve anything, anymore. Here is what protest says to those who you are protesting: “Look at all of those people. They’re not worth a damn. They will never influence votes. They will never influence my cash flow. They will never amount to anything. Fuck em.” And the scary part is, they are correct.

At some point between 1952 and now we forgot the middle ground. We forgot that the entire point, on both sides, was to converse, to decide together what the outcome of such and such an event should be. But instead we shout at each other in our own ways. The protesters shout, mount performance art calling it theatre, create great gangs of likeminded shouters to shout down an enemy who is not listening. The leaders hide in their buildings, knowing that the protesters don’t matter, and continuing on with their day’s events.

I just got an e-mail from Toxic Pop, a newsletter outlining the weeks underground events in NYC. Who’s heard of it?

Discourse.

The entire point of art is to create discourse to lead to a conclusion. Art is not a conclusion. It is the catalyst.

The entire point of money is to have the most in order to live a better life. Money is the conclusion, only so far as it affords you the opportunity to shut the rest of the world away.

The artist is correct.

But the artist is just as selfish as the capitalist.

The artist wants all to see his art so that the world will pay attention and heed the answers.

The artist does not understand that he does not have the answers.

The audience has the answers. And the audience is made up of the capitalists, because they are the only ones who can afford the art the artist creates.

Those in the middle. Those in Des Moines. They do not have a say. This is exactly why this is the proper place to be.

For the people of Des Moines have more of a say than anyone on the planet.

You could get fed up with this country, and move on. Move to Europe, Canada, as most do. Say “Fuck it!” to your home country. The sad part is, this is seen as admirable these days. I see this as giving up.

Stay. Fix the problem. But don’t do it in New York City. Don’t do it in LA. Don’t do it in Chicago, Boston, DC, Seattle. Do it in Des Moines. Do it where Presidents are made. Do it where you will have the most impact. Obey the very basic rule of capitalism – if it ain’t there, make it. Why create the same thing where it already exists?

The only way to fix the problems of the world are to fight them from within. Use Capitalism, understand it, defeat it. Run for office, win, change the world. Create a show for those who have never seen your point of view before. And speak with them post. There is nothing wrong with Democracy. Unless it comes in contact with Capitalism. Go to the heart of the country and meet the people there. Work with them. Understand them. Let them understand you. And together, your world and theirs will become the middle ground. And the world shall be fixed. Once and for all.

What follows will be ideas to change the world. I await your response.

Introduction

2007-09-30T10:59:00.000-05:00

September 30, 2007

Dear Reader-

New York has become a clogged artery. So has every other major city in America. The time has come to re-invent the Little Theatre Movement of the 1920’s. Only this time it’s not just theatre. Two of each of every art will board our ark. And this ark sails to the most remote places possible.

My name is Zachary Mannheimer, and I have just fled from NYC. And I am o so much happier for it. My time in NYC was wonderful, and filled with unbelievable artistic creations, people and too many drunken nights to count. I am sure yours are the same. I founded The Subjective Theatre Company www.SubjectiveTheatre.org and The Community Dish www.CommunityDish.org several years ago. Both continue to operate and thrive in my absence. Nothing makes me happier.

What you will read here is an account of what I am up to in the exotic locale of Des Moines, Iowa, my new home. No, I am not from here. No, I don’t know a single person here. To see how I got here, go to this link www.zacksblog.subjectivetheatre.org - this is an account of the road-trip I took this summer over 8 weeks, traveling to 22 cities and interviewing 47 theatre companies. I was driving to find where I would end up. And here I am, in Des Moines. I have been here since September 18th.

I have come to Des Moines to buy a building (you have no idea how cheap it is out here!) and open a restaurant, a theatre, and a program for kids who never got their high school diploma. A new model is being invented here – if we are to live in a capitalistic society, clearly we need to sell something. Let that something NOT be our art. Let’s sell something else to support our art, so we don’t have to go begging for money from those who don’t want to give it to us. Let us create free art, paid for by our other products, in this case, food and wine. But any product will do. Once we become self-sufficient, our art can take hold and begin to tear at the fabric that is capitalism. To see how all of this will work, please read the first post of the travel blog above. And the first post of this blog.

My good friend Adam Huttler, whom I am sure most of you know, has asked me, as Co-Chairman of FA’s Artistic Advisory Board, to blog about how I create this beast. I thank him for his patience with my insanity, and his guidance for my good ideas that would never become action without his heavenly hand. Check this page weekly for updates. So, if you don’t like any of this – blame Adam.

There is much more you will find out about my past through reading this. For those of you interested, my bio appears below. What you do need to know, though, is this – what I am doing is the next experiment in American theatre. It may work, it may fail, but it is what is needed. I hope you will feel the same.

This first, following post, is most dramatic. It is meant to be. I promise humor and more colloquial conversation will follow. If you don’t believe me, see my blog…

Enjoy. And send me comments. Please. If you disagree, agree, whatever, I love a good discussion/argument. Both please me just the same. Preferably over some sort of alcoholic beverage.
Z

Zachary R. Mannheimer
ArtDir@SubjectiveTheatre.org

For The Subjective Theatre Company: Directed/Co-Wrote Party Discipline: A Political Transformation Seminar (2006 at The Ohio Theatre, 2007at the AAWW), Directed Karel Capek's The White Plague and co-produced The UnConvention (2004), Directed Jesse Alick's Sleep Awake (2003), John Osborne's Look Back in Anger (2002), Eugene Ionesco's Victims of Duty (2001, 2002 OOBR Award for Overall Excellence), Set Design for John Patrick Shanley's The Big Funk (2003), Producer of Mac Wellman's 7 Blowjobs (2005) and Co-Wrote and Directed Burt Reynolds' Amazing Napalm Powered Oven and Other Paid Programming for 2001 NYC Fringe Festival. Zachary created and directs STC's Busking Bonanza. Zachary is the Producing Artistic Director and a Founder of The Subjective Theatre Company www.SubjectiveTheatre.org.

Other credits as a director include Jim Cartwright's Road (2001), Ionesco's The Bald Soprano (2000), Harold Pinter's The Dumb Waiter (1999), his own work Madagascar for the New Hope Arts Commission (2000), and Assistant Director for Eugene O'Neill's The Moon of the Caribbees for the Bat Theater Company (2001). As a writer, his play Material was workshopped for The Royal Court's Young Writer's Programme in London, England (2000).

Zachary has been an intern with New Georges, The Bat Theater Company and The Present Company. He was the director of Fringe Al Fresco, the 100% outdoor version of the NYC International Fringe Festival (2001-2002). Zachary has taught and lectured at Wagner College, Muhlenberg College, The East Harlem Development Association, and St. Margaret's in Ascot, England.

Zachary has been the Manager and Sommelier at Tempo Restaurant and Wine Bar in Brooklyn and has served as Corporate Sponsorship Associate for HERE Arts Center. Zachary previously served as the Managing Director for East Coast Artists, a 10-year old not-for-profit theatre company producing adaptations of classic works under the Artistic Direction of Richard Schechner from 2003-2004. Additionally, Zachary was the Administrator of New York Dance Affinity (2003) and founded the short lived Public Works Project (2001-2002), a street-theatre activist group comprised of five Independent NYC theatre companies. There he produced the activist events Pig-Snout Subway and Chain-Gang Subway on NYC subways, and White Trash Story, a 10-minute rendition of West Side Story at the TKTS booth in Times Square, as well as publishing the theatrical newsletter The Geek.

Zachary is the founder and current president of The Community Dish, a consortium of over 60 NYC Independent Theatre Companies who meet bi-monthly to share a meal and ideas: www.CommunityDish.org.

Zachary has received training from The Second City in Chicago, Goldsmiths College at University of London and studied under playwrights Maria Irene Fornes, James Ryan, Erik Ehn, Mac Wellman and directors Richard Schechner and John Clancy. He has previously held positions at Samuel French London, The Royal Court, and Tribeca Performing Arts Center. He holds a dual BA in Theatre Arts and Philosophy from Muhlenberg College in Allentown, Pennsylvania.

Zachary currently serves as a board member for Modest Needs, an incredibly altruistic financial granting not-for-profit www.ModestNeeds.org as well as the Co-Chairman of Fractured Atlas’ Artists Advisory Board www.FractruedAtlas.org.

Currently Zachary is the Maitre d’ at The Des Moines Embassy Club as well as a Precinct Director for John Edwards for President in Des Moines, IA. He hopes to change the world.