Andrew sent me an email from work this afternoon linking me to an interview with a guy he'd gone to theater school with (he actually was a year or so ahead of him, but anyhow...) in Montreal. The interview was conducted by someone at Praxis Theatre in Toronto. It's a company he references from time to time as one of those companies we'd love to work for some day, who dedicate their hours and dollars toward developing interesting original work. Some of their posters are above.
Anyway, the interview is with actor Lwam Ghebrehariat and he goes into why it is certain theater school "success rates" reflect standard acceptance procedures, how maybe we should re-evaluate the way an actor might look at the future of his or her career, and how we should maybe consider mandating a minimum age-requirement for admittance to theatre school. Many of his sentiments I recall sharing during my years of study, so it's interesting to hear it all tied up in a sweet little Lwam package. Indeed, in regard to the age thing, I remember being 18 in a New York City theatre school thinking I was the bees knees, certainly the lucky duck who will be successful while the others waited tables. If I'd gone today instead of back then, I'd have buckled down and faced reality, worked differently, known things I know now but didn't back then. The rose-colored glasses having been removed, you know?
That stuff aside, it's Lwam's current "career" that I find most appealing, as he finishes up Law School, still occasionally performing on the side. His approach is exactly what we've had in mind for ourselves for Goodness knows how long. As we start looking at school again for A, it helps to have this little article as a morale booster, whispering "it's possible, it's possible," in our wretched little ears.
You can play a soundbyte and read the mini-article about him here:
By now maybe we've all seen Jon Rafman's photo-series blog 9-Eyes, compiled from his undoubtedly many, many hours of combing through Google Street View. When looking at some of the images, it's hard to imagine their not being staged and set.
Some are funny, absurd, questionable. Some are weird, some are vacant, some are sort of bland and obvious. Some are visual comments on life as we know it, encapsulating everything in a flash moment that we're ashamed of or afraid to look at. Many show us the sorry state of things. Or the blissful state of things. Whichever. A lot of them terrify me. And some of them are just aesthetically and compositionally beautiful no matter what.
Whatever they are, Rafman is another patient mind reminding us that the beauty is still in the everyday, the mundane.
If you've been on Etsy this week you know about Erin Tyner. With good reason, too. I love these prints, so to my friends and family: if you're wondering what you can get me for my birthday or mother's day, here's a big fat hint.
"My process consists of the following: 1. Conceptualize, 2. Storyboard, 3. Prepare, and 4. Execute. The conceptualizing stage is sometimes based on a highly specific idea but may also be driven by a light bulb moment later in the process. After developing a concept, I often storyboard an idea by photographing crude mock-ups and using them to digitally sketch the desired result. Preparation involves a number of activities from gathering and testing materials to choosing elements like perspective and lighting. Execution occurs when I have decided on the components to make up the photo. On paper, this looks like a linear process. In reality, it rarely progresses as orderly and includes a generous dose of trial and error plus room for happy accidents."