Good morning, Twilight

... Manchego says hello? Sorry, just wanted to jump on the Hair-bandwagon. I mean if Hill-Bill are on board, surely it's my time. And yes, I'm referring to the Clintons. And yes, that is second-hand knowledge, Laura, also known as my producing better half, sat near them Sunday night. I think she gave them a postcard.

Enough about other shows! I'm breaking my blogging silence and am here to let you know things about producing Twilight in Manchego. Like, there are a lot of spread sheets. Some numbers. Lots of papers to sign. And Yahoo groups.

All those things are aligning and working together now and we're in crunch mode. This means that Laura, Matt and I are scrambling for those last precious dollars, working on selling out every night (go! go buy more tickets! now!), working with WonderWoman (also known as Karen Marshall) on getting the press to come and write/talk about us and making sure that the right chalkboards get shipped for our set. Oh wait ...

All of these things are going well, for the most part. Productions, whether they are Disney or NYMF always need more money. My dream as a producer, aside from the obvious artistically rich, consistently sold-out shows, is to find the magic formula. The one that means your show is living in its means so to say. This may well prove to be a search for an illusive grail, but hey, Indiana Jones learned a lot in that movie, so I'm up for the journey.

In all seriousness though, one of my biggest concerns in a very general sense, is the relationship of money and the (live) arts. What gets money and where it gets money from can tell you a lot not just about the culture we're living/working in, but also about the artists and producers of other art and their relationship to that bigger structure of society. Laura and I have had many conversations about this and in deciding to begin a company and work on a show that are not-for-profits, we're choosing a relationship between ourselves and the artists we represent and money.

These conversations turned into a letter we've included in our donor and press packets, which invites our readers/audience into these conversations and a philosophy we've formed.

A lot of projects and companies go not-for-profit out of a necessity. We recognized these necessities (grants, tax-deductible donations primarily) but we also saw beyond them. Being a not-for-profit is like founding a town (we can call this town Manchego) - we have an infrastructure of a production board (and for a company, an actual board), but we also have unlimited growth potential. Everyone is invited to participate in whatever way they can, whether that's through financial support, in-kind donations, or skills. And, like a town, we can become independent, fluid and operate in a bigger picture. And very importantly, the "control" remains in the hands of the artists - the infrastructure. The bottom line is the producers' concerns, so that the company/project can operate as it has been proposed to do - not the other way around (the art doesn't play for a bottom line). Just like in a town, we pay taxes and work for things that are there to help us (schools, roads, etc). Taxes ensure that a school will provide the best education possible. The "control" of education is (ideally at least) in the hands of the teachers. Administrators ensure that the education happens. Working like a community, we become one. And there is nothing more appropriate for Twilight in Manchego as it makes its fully staged debut at NYMF and lays its foundations.

Well, spreadsheets call. Remember kids, Manchego is more than a damn tasty cheese.

Until next time,
Cheers,
Patrice

ps Twilight in Manchego opens in just 15 days!! That means you better hurray and get tickets before they sell out!

The Men Event! and our Road to NYMF (Part 1)

THE MEN EVENT!
Hey all! Twilight is still getting ready to kick it into high gear (we're in the latter half of the festival, and so getting pretty anxious waiting for rehearsals to start when so many of our fellow shows are already getting on their feet), but that doesn't mean we're not busy! Besides preparing for the production, our cast and crew have been making the rounds to a ton of events recently...



The Men of Manchego! (at the Men Event at Planet Hollywood August 18th, 2008) We have a super attractive team. From left to right, there's Paul Downs Colaizzo (Kenny), Adam Halpin (Esau), Alex Brightman (Geo), Matt Gould (Book/Music/Lyrics), Kevin Curtis (Mortimer) and Justin Hatchimonji (Musical Director).



Undoubtably the two youngest/prettiest/most amazingly dedicated and enthusiastic and capable producers a show could have - Laura Brandel and Patrice Miller.



Group shot! Alex Brightman (Geo), Matt Gould (Book/Music/Lyrics), Karen Marshall (Publicity), Patrice Miller (Co-Producer), Justin Hatchimonji (Musical Director), Adam Halpin (Esau) and Kevin Curtis (Mortimer). Laura's off shmoozing in the background, and Paul had left us to go see the A Tale of Two Cities invited dress. The unsung hero of all these photos is of course Michael DiRaimondo, our photographer, who is far too attractive to be kept off-camera. I'll take over once and get some shots of him for you.

THE ROAD TO NYMF
Twilight in Manchego is taking place this year in "The Road to NYMF," a video series documenting our production. The first segment is on YouTube now (and should be on BroadwayWorld.com soon!) and is all about our pre-production.



Can't wait for the next two segments! For the record, Laura would like to state that she doesn't even actually like Pinkberry. That's all me.

Buy your tickets!

Videos from The Bowery Poetry Club!

Last night, Matt (composer), Laura (co-producer), Patrice (co-producer), Michael (logo designer) and I (press/media) hit up Public Acts of Decency's mixer series at the Bowery Poetry Club. And since you probably didn't, here are Matt's segments on YouTube!

Matt singing "Same Old Story":


Matt singing "I Got a Secret":


Matt singing "You Won't Get Me Out!":


Those songs will be sung respectively by Adam Halpin, Jessica Phillips and Jenna Coker-Jones in the show, and I couldn't be more excited to hear them. If you wanna see this stuff live, we're hoping to drop in on Mostly Sondheim tonight (The Duplex, 11:30!), so come on by and get a demo!

Ghosts

It's so quiet where my paretns live in Virginia. You can see the stars at night and you can hear the sound of nothing. It reminds me of living in Africa--the quiet, the dark, the big dipper, the bugs slamming into my bare arms and my face and the feeling that in the darkness there is a monster force waiting to gobble me up. My imagination can spin me into a tizzy anywhere in the world. I can be a movie star or the victim of a murder in a split second. In New York City, I am an ice skating champion gliding down the street on my way to Olympic Gold. In LA I am a football player clearing a path toward a touchdown. But here, in Virginia, the place I come to write and think and be with my family, I am in a horror movie--a beautiful, bloody horror movie, like Silence of the Lambs. I breathe shallowly, on the verge of tears, waiting for something or someone to eat me. I am Agent Starling and it will be me or Buffalo Bill.

I thought I was sick for a long time. All of these neurotic, adolescent musings ought to have been outgrown by a 29 year old. Now I realize that my dark thoughts are born of the same impulses that make me write; the same instinct that lets me create imagininary worlds in music and on paper. If I try to squash them, or turn the light on, or turn up the volume, or scold my overdeveloped ego, I lose my ability and will to create.

The only other time I feel as erotically insane as I do when I am creating something is when I'm in love. Then, my world and my life hang in the balance of every word he speaks and every touch he shares and every note he sings or writes or whispers. Perhaps that is why in these creative times, I feel sadly alone. I miss the old boys. I miss the way they'd touch me and love me...or whatever it was that we did that we called love. I want to call them. I need them to save me now. But if I call, then I surely won't write.

So, tonight I pour my heart into another page, another song, another world. That is the only way to escape those ghosts and to ensure that I am like Jodi Foster at the end of Silence of the Lambs...and not Buffalo Bill.

love, peace, and all that cal.

matt g