Learning a Few Lessons From Making Yourself Happy

I loved writing this piece for work. Donna Lynne Champlin is an amazing singer and actress and so much fun to sit down and chat with. The lessons she's learned from making herself artistically happy taught me a lot about ways of approaching my own career and structuring my work as a writer.


Recording a solo album on a "Trading Spaces" budget does not sound like a Broadway star's groundbreaking personal project. Yet when Donna Lynne Champlin fractured her ankle in "Billy Elliott," that is exactly what she did. The result—"Old Friends," which dropped Dec. 1—challenges the traditional recording system and makes Champlin almost as happy as the hours spent singing in her bathroom and agonizingly mastering tracks did. She set out to prove that it she could accomplish a professional-sounding labor of love one a budget of $1000. But the experience also served as a lesson in making a profit by making herself happy.


Check out the rest of the story at Back Stage

The Reporting Life: One-on-Ones and One-on-Many

I've recently been covering David Mamet's new play "Race" for my job. Given the opportunity to attend the first press event in late October, I dashed over to Playwrights Horizons to meet and interview the four person cast in brief one-on-ones (or one-on-a few...s when I had to share celebrities with another reporter or three).

The cast is remarkably talented and--more impressive to me, personally--smart. Mamet slipped away as we (the motley group of reporters for various entertainment publications, websites, and stations) entered the room--wiley, horn-rimmed man. Not much of a surprise, though. He isn't a often big fan of the press, and especially not with this show. In fact, he's demanded everyone associated, from the actors to the PR team, maintain a strict veil of virtual silence about the plot. This only made the event more interesting: watching seasoned reporters try to grasp and adapt to the challenge is both amusing and insightful. They can't quite intimidate information out of David Alan Grier, Kerry Washington, James Spader, or Richard Thomas as easily as they might with some other sources... At least, not without notable consequences.

While I could write volumes about the experience itself or the information I got for my piece, the story will be up elsewhere. Part of what really got to me, though, was how I felt not as a fan or the youngest reporter there. It's that I was the only strictly-print person there for most of the afternoon!

Being the only print reporter in a room full of photographers and videographers at a press event is like being the smart kid with no friends at a new school. It's awkward, it's kind of lonely, and it's a bit depressing! It's fascinating, though, that such a scenario could happen. Other print reporters showed up later, though many were joining the photographers already present. Graphics are becoming increasingly ubiquitous. I took heart in being joined in my role of parking it at a table waiting for the talent to free up from the photos and video interviews, but not just because I felt out of place. It was also that I was reassured I wasn't one of a breed bordering on extinction.

As a bonus, I'm including an exclusive picture of the cast here. I got a bit bored waiting for all the photos. What the hell? I thought. So I took one on my BlackBerry, reaching above the line of photographers' heads for a slightly blurry memento. And a reminder for the smart kids who find themselves in the same position.

Red Sea Fish: A Play That Drowned

On assignment for work, I went to review a show shipped straight from England as part of an annual special engagement, Brits Off Broadway. I've been reviewing a number of shows over the last month or so and finally getting a "plus one" for this show was an exciting development--until the guilt set in quickly at signing my friend up for two hours seeing this show in a truly claustrophobic theater. One of the hardest things to do is write a good review that doesn't sound dumb. Fortunately, they saved me that concern. Harsh reviews can also be quite hard to write, though, when there's little to point to as being "good" about a show. Not to mention, reliving the pain is pretty rough.

Here's my attempt to be fair, also available in its published form online.


Matt Wilkinson's new play is a complex exploration of family relationships and the imagination of the human mind, and it's been shipped here straight from Brighton. The show's British cast has kept the original staging intact, and the script paints a realistic portrait of a complex father-son relationship punctuated by moments of insight. Ultimately, though, "Red Sea Fish" fails to tell a coherent, meaningful story.

The play takes place in the apartment of Ray and his devoted caretaker and son, Terry, on the south coast of England. Over the course of 48 hours, the pair's relationship and their perceptions of reality and the power of imagination fundamentally change, thanks to the introduction of a third party. As Ray suffers from a rare skin condition, father and son live largely confined to their home. Thus, when Terry invites Karen, a young runaway and the object of his budding affections, into the apartment, she provokes both men and brings out long-buried truths about their respective notions of past, present, and future.

Tim Blissett shows skill and versatility in his portrayal of Ray, an aging invalid who largely lives in the world of his own stories, content to be sealed off from the world below his apartment. His routines and mannerisms come across clearly, painting the picture of a realistic and endearing character. Matt Houghton's Terry feels genuinely connected to his father, sealed in the role of a dutiful son locked away to see to his father's needs.

Janna Fox's emotions as Karen, however, are as absent as her distractingly missing eyebrows. In fact, both were so lacking that numerous audible comments were whispered among the small audience, drawing a few laughs that had nothing to do with the attempts at dark humor in the script. At times Karen's lack of depth appears to imply either a hint of mental illness or perhaps an aloof response to the confusing conditions within the apartment. Neither seems to be the intention, however, so the role—which poses the plot's turning point and is responsible for the script's evolutionary drive—falls utterly flat. What's more, in the small theater, the actors' sincere attempts to make the show work are evident in compensatory overacting, with Fox and Houghton visibly struggling to convey emotion and depth.

While Wilkinson's work aims high and attempts to address interesting ideas, its execution fails to thrive like fish in the titular sea; rather, it feels as if we're watching laborious attempts to keep from drowning.

New York Musical Theatre Festival: 'Street Lights' Clip

For those who have seen, have heard of, or want to hear of the New York Musical Theatre Festival's new musical "Street Lights," here's a song from the new recording, available online and at shows. The show is already slated for a professional staging at the Old Globe in San Diego this February and future possibilites hover on the horizon.

I've been listening to the soundtrack thanks to my job. This number, "Stand Clear," performed by Krystal Brown, Desiree Rodriguez, Chad Carstarphen, and the Street Lights Singers, utilizes sounds recorded from the New York City subway to further the realistic, urban feeling of both the song and the show. Joe Drymala, who recorded the album and wrote the music, lyrics, and book, said, "I feel like the music is what has been selling this show. It sounds like normal radio pop music that can even stand on its own." Take a listen and see if you agree.