Friday, July 24, 2009

So Far I'd Give This Summer 3 out of 5 stars

It's been a semi-productive summer so far. I managed to get my website up, get registered for classes, and get a few samples out on Twitter and Facebook. (Although I woke up this morning and discovered I'd lost 10 followers (hate that term) and 3 people I was following. Hope it's just a glitch.) My latest sample (below) is a tone poem, a melancholy yet pretty piano piece I intend to put into my playing repertoire. 

No bites as far as jobs, but I am working on an updated version of Twelve Angry Men with a director at Columbia. She's young, feisty, seems to have it together, and the reading I did with her actors on Monday was great. Really intelligent, thoughtful group who seemed enthusiastic about the play and what it says. Apparently there were not enough people, as I had to read a couple of parts. I managed to do it competently until I had a beer. I just can't seem to build any tolerance when it comes to beer. *shakes head* 

As I was re-reading the play yesterday, marking transitional areas and places where I think music would heighten the drama, I thought of an adaptation: someday I want to do Twelve Angry Men as an alien vs. human play. Yes, you read that right. 

On a more personal, less productive note, thanks to EE I've become obsessed with Gordon Ramsay reality shows—especially those on the BBC. I work out to them, and I was surprised they capture my attention for a longer period of time than shows like 24. Have you seen Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares? In this one, he goes around trying to save failing restaurants. So far, in the eps I've seen, I think he's 1 for 4 because no matter how much he curses and no matter how straight he is, he can't always get past the owners' egos. 

The drill starts off with Mr. Ramsay being served in the failing restaurant. In one, where he helped a 26-year-old restauranteur, the young man in question had a quirky, too-clever menu. I'm still laughing over Ramsay's facial expression when a steak kabob was served to him hanging from some kind of metal contraption, swinging like a donkey's schlong in front of his face.


Sarah Laurenson said...

I like The F Word, but I've seen all the Kitchen Nightmare ones already, including the set they did in the US.

If you're watching the BBC channel, I also like How Clean Is Your House and You Are What You Eat. Not as exciting as Ramsey, but they can be very interesting. I've never seen someone seriously discuss poo and what's in it before.

stacy said...

I haven't seen all the Kitchen Nightmares yet, but the ones I've seen have been hilarious. I'm going to stick with the ones on the BBC for now.

I also like You Are What You Eat, but I tend to get a little squeamish during the poo bits. Haven't seen the house cleaning one.

There was one really funny one a while ago that was called something like Ladettes to Ladies, where a bunch of lower middle-class young women aimed to cure their wild ways by being trained to become true ladies. While I agreed many of their lifestyle choices were a bit unhealthy, the result of them—well, one of them, anyway—turning into Barbies didn't bode well for feminism. Still, it was hilarious to watch the girls rebel. They did so in increasingly creative ways.

McKoala said...

I shall miss Freddie.

On the other hand, Winefred, I was almost named Harriet. Wouldn't we have made a fine pair in a cozy?

Glad to have found you agin!

McKoala said...

Ladette to Lady - pure gold. There's an Aussie version now. Even better.

stacy said...

Really! Wish there was a way I could see it!

Robin S. said...

Winifred and Harriet, my! i'm grinning like a nut now, thinking about that.

Yeah- EE screwed me up, too, Stacy, with the Ramsay stuff. I love the BBC America Nightmares ones - less staged.

Cool about the play and thinking about areas where music would bring more to it. Very cool,indeed!

stacy said...

Oh wait a minute. There's always YouTube.

Yeah, Robin! Although I'm a little pissed that his shows are in such heavy rotation at the moment. Really makes it hard to tear myself away.