So… What do you do when you see a great actor, Blair Underwood, in San Diego for a limited engagement, for example, perform one of the world’s great plays? Well, IF you are Frau Kolb then you GO BACK and see it again. Of course!
The second time I saw Othello, last week, at San Diego’s Old Globe theatre, I had my children and a Mystery Muse in gentle tow. We floated into our seats, rather high and dead centre upon the stage action. When, I saw the production, two days earlier, we had third-tier seats closer to the musicians, which I loved because the musician closest to me was a pleasure to behold. He banged the big drum, tapped the silver cymbal and scratched the violin strings to create an appropriately throbbing and eerie sound, thereby supporting the cast in their Friday night rendition of the play. His golden red mop, flopping in time with the well chosen musical accompaniment.
With no further ado, two actors jump on stage and again, the cycle of intrigue and deception was springs again. Roderigo, storms in, brimming with frustration, accusing Iago:
“Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.”
I took it in as much as I could, without drowning, as the words washed over me. I was even further afloat. I was buoyant, buoyed by The Bard’s Words and I was lost. Castaway. The sea of meaning enveloped me and I lost my bearings. I forgot about my children. Fortunately, they were next to me, tucked into their costly seats for their very first experience of TRAGEDY, Comedy, Drama! Ah! We soared together touching the clouds,
visible above our heads, outside… an occasional horn honk.
I wish I could tell you that I arrived at t better understanding of the play having seen the same production with the same actors, TWICE in ONE WEEK. Yet, I can not say that. In fact, I’m more confused about the story and about Shakespeare’s intention. The lines that stung the first time, clung to me now like algae clings to those that intend to swim. Othello went by so fast the second time. Perhaps, I fainted! Perhaps I wasn’t there.
It was strange, but I remember more clearly, that...
We met a little early, as though by chance, in the
Garden before the Globe, and we strolled around
And into our seats we fell and were transported.
Oh Othello! What a pleasure to witness, Mr. Blair Underwood, chest exposed in crucial scenes, thrilling the audience with his mighty acting muscle. This was a play I had to have my children see. They had to witness Underwood, in his prime, strutting the glorious metal of a seasoned solider of the stage. He plays the military hero with August POMP, all blistering with hot pride and JOY at having captured Desdemona’s heart, he crumbles at the, powerful implanted by Iago, suggestion that she deceives him. Death ensues.
At THE END: “Not everybody died!” Said my daughter (Ever the optimistic).
My son, older, wiser, said, “Yes, but Iago, will have to live with his crime, alone, forever.”
How deep is that?
If you haven’t made time for Shakespeare, lately, get to it. It might remind you, how that the vital waters of eternal undoing rage without stopping to check with Time’s compass. Let the winds of curiosity whisk you from Caliban’s secret Isle to Othello’s marital demise.
Thank goodness for Underwood’s powerful performance which anchored my interest. The iron core of his skill maybe more than an onyx six-pack of charm, which motivated me, to take the children, A Mystery Muse, and myself to San Diego’s Globe Theatre, to see Underwood in Othello, Twice in ONE WEEK!
Incredible!
Frau Kolb
***Scroll down for more on OTHELLO in San Diego with Blair Underwood in the lead.
“Who’s NEXT?” A Barber Shop with Class in La Jolla, California.
You can judge the quality of a community by its Barber Shop(s). Take for example, actor Seymour Cassel’s, memorable rendition of the ideal Barber/Father to the young genius, Max Fisher, astutely played by Jason Schwartzman, in Wes Anderson’s brilliant film, Rushmore. In the film, Rushmore the Barbershop is portrayed as what is should always be, a place of comfort and paradoxically of stark revelation, transformation. It is where the beloved actor, Bill Murray, playing a whiskey drinking, divorce-bound Sad Dad, is transformed, redeemed, rescued by the honest embrace of a thickly padded Barber’s Chair, a pile steaming hot towels, and the razor’s ready edge.
In fact and fiction, good traditional Barber’s Shops are a refuge for men. Seeking this ideal experience we have, at times spent BIG MONEY. For example, there was a periods of years during, which we paid for Honey to have his haircut at The Shave in Beverly Hills. After a while, we stopped it because we realised we were being fleeced. A haircut for a half-bald Honey should not cost $$$$! No way! Yesterday, at “Who’s Next?” which is a welcoming little nest for shaggy fellas, we confirmed our experience. Hartmuth got a quick haircut. By a beyond efficient, masterful Barber. Haircuts with clippers, buzz cuts with stubbly edges, all the fuzzy feelings of joy that do with good grooming! We can all agree: men LOOK so Good, after a fresh haircut!
Have you ever had the pleasure of hanging out in a classic Barbershop?
Have you ever met a refined, sensitive, highly educated Barber? Well, meet Mr. D. He is the most friendly, competent, immediate confidant, trustworthy man with a sharp tools, I’ve ever met!
An excellent Barber listens, laughs, and, he treats each guest with the respect he clearly has for himself, if a perfectly groomed Barber is to be taken as proof of good training and self mastery. His easy, ernest conversation is a soothing example of how humans are supposed to connect and confide, confer and create bonds which sustain others and the self. After visiting, “Who’s Next?” one is left with a sense of excellence. In meeting a man that clearly values his connections to family and friends, his fiancé, his son who also clips the hair of men of others, part-time, as he prepares for college. In this way, father passes on to son, an honest trade which is always and forever in demand, thereby reveals the core of masculine strength, nobility, passed from one generation to the next, which inspires. Ah!
Return to the comfort of “Who’s Next?,” a quality barbershop in San Diego’s upscale paradise, La Jolla. It is a real place.
Small. Cosy. Friendly. Prompt. Service! I love good service.
former a Navy Man,* Florida native, happy San Diego transplant success, Mr. D. runs a tight ship. The shop is immaculate.
Two giant scissors decorate the wall, evoking crossed swords in a symbol of chivalry. In an informal interview Mr. D
revealed that “Who’s Next?” is a family business. He inherited the skills and the passion for creating a quiet,
manly retreat, from his uncle. He says, “My Uncle always knew that I would continue working with hair, that I liked it.”
Mr. D’s smile, speaks volumes about his standards of conduct. The great haircut my husband received proves that Mr. D. is a no-nonsense small business owner, the kind of man whose conduct and true character shine
brighter than the best and most sparkly, stiff, pomade.
*(Correction: in an earlier published draft I wrote that Mr. D was a Marine, not the case, I made that up. Sorry.)
Ah! To be transported to the living age-of-chivary, yesterday in a cute little barbershop, via good-old-fashioned slow and thoughtful conversation
we arrived at that place outside time, where everything slows down, allowing for a few ernest moments of sparkling laughter. Served fresh,
humour is the best medicine and laughter is the most potent health tonic.
Take time, My Friends, to connect, to arrive at the small pleasures. So… I advise you go get a haircut. Go to a neighbourhood spot, where you are recognised and treated like a close and cherished friend upon arrival. If you happen to be in San Diego, I highly recommend that you visit Mr. D. at “Who’s Next?”
Big hug,
Frau Kolb
For the LOVE of Underwood! Actor Rocks role of Othello in San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre, July 8th, 2014
Thank you, regular readers of Talkinggrid,
I can’t get over how happy I am, how much gratitude I feel for all those that continue supporting this wacky, homespun, and about to massively improve, alternative art news and cultural commentary web-site. In gratitude I will tell you of LAST NIGHT’S DELIGHTFUL theatrical experience. Yes! I will share with a fast glimpse, a peek into the pure pleasure witnessing actor, Blair Underwood rock the role of Othello in San Diego’s one-and-only Globe Theatre.
The hunky-super-handsome actor was beyond dreamy, in a driven and moving enactment of Shakespeare’s blackest of black comedies in three acts. Underwood embodied the most tragic of British Literature’s, arch tragic heroes, the-one-and-only, Othello . Underwood, a powerhouse actor was supported by a tight, vivid, and on-point performance by Richard Thomas as Iago, whose lucid demonstration of evil, calculating revenge, and pure malice evoked chills of recognition, fear, and excitement from the audience. The two lead actors pushed the story forward with their muscular acting talent. They delivered The Bard’s oft quoted lines with the light lips of a lover’s undying sincerity.
Last night, I shared a blanket with my best friend, near the orchestra pit. I watched the skilful musicians beat out the rhythm of Shakespeare. I let the music of the words sink into my soul and the stars above added the needed sense of connection to a larger world, placing this FEMALE FORWARD reading of Othello in the world of today. Every act, played upon the other, and led brilliantly to the inevitable demise of the protagonist and his intimates. Yet, actresses really brought the play home with a smashing, intensely womanly understanding of what it is to submit to, and what it is to resist, male domination. Kristen Connolly plays a striking Desdemona, no cowering flower, she faces scandal, paternal wrath, and death with chiseled dignity. Yet, it was Angela Reed as Emilia that most intensely captured the voice of the abused and betrayed woman. She dies for and with her mistress in a visceral representation of loyalty, delivering her final speech with the fearless passion of total understanding.
Barry Edelstein’s Othello is refreshing and inviting into a renewed intimacy with the simple mechanical and emotional perfection that is Shakespeare’s later work. Edelstein, author of two books on Shakespeare, has succeeded in creating a memorable departure from prior stagings and to arrive at a noteworthy addition to the world’s perpetual fascination with the violence, the passion, and the innocence that Othello ensures.
In short, Bravo!
Special thanks, to the wonderful staff at the Globe Theatre and even more special WARM & FUZZY Thank you to E. and her Crew of Lovely Ladies.
AND, a GIGANTIC THANK YOU to ACTOR, Blair Underwood, for allowing us to take his picture, signing a birthday autograph, and assisting celebrating my best friend’s keynote birthday! His warmth and open hearted, easily approachable demeanour, made it a snap to create a little memorabilia of the marvellous evening. Visiting the theatre was never more meaningful, than last night surrounded by my friend and her friends, which are now, thanks to the bonding experience of seeing and meeting such a marvellous specimen of human perform, are my friends, too. But more than anything, thank you, to all that have gone to hell and back, to bring to life the glorious Othello.
"Positive Addictions,” Time for a NEW Attitude Toward Being
Darlings, Lovely Humans,
Thank you for continuing to visit this lowly wayward self-spun masterpiece of self discovery: Talkinggrid. Years ago, Frau Kolb changed her personal art web-site into this wordy mess you keep returning to, a feast for some word hungry souls, requiring contact with another ravenous appetite. I understand, because I’m addicted to blogging. It is true that I have neglected to sleep, at times in my bunny’s desire to hop to it and write-right-now!
The intense need to express one’s self, as an artist (painter/music player/noise maker/performer) renders communication the unwavering focus. We read. Often we write. Many of my best friends have their own blogs which I support. Yet, my entire life, I’ve preferred the small-homespun look of transition and unfinished experimentation. I shun much of what is POPULAR Culture today. The slick hard look of music makers, their tattoos all in order and SHINY… Yuck. Sorry, but commercial television, mainstream Hollywood films, junk foods, and other less than wholesome advertising rich sources of spiritual pollution leave me looking for the bookstores, the good museums, off beat and curious art galleries, the analogue, the antique, the unchanging enduring SILENCE which is the core of enjoying life in the long term. Ah!
Yesterday, one of my on-line buddies made a comment that hit home. He said that gardening is a “positive addiction.” Well… I like that. I have a number of “positive addictions,” which make my life sweet. I dig walking, talking, reading, writing, laughing, loving, learning, music, and DANCE.
I love the movement of the sea. I am “positively addicted," to life near the ocean, the beach, the sand. Of course
Loving LIFE is my hobby and I’m becoming an Expert on being at ease in the turbulent crunch of TODAY.
Merci,
Frau K.
Re-Thinking Talkinggrid
Dearest Readers, Contributors, and Supporters,
I’d like to thank you for your attention and donations. You have given me reason to write and get out looking for art adventures on which to report.
You have shared the links and sent in money. You comment and you help me edit this blog. I appreciate your help very much and really you have encouraged me. I’ve become a person that writes, regularly, fluidly, thanks to the knowing that you might read what I wrote today. I find that prospect alone very exciting. Moreover, when you click the DONATE button on the side bar you send Frau Kolb soaring, literally! I’m always planning my next trip, the NEXT big art adventure!
I confess: I am an ambitious woman. Yet, my goals are private, personal. I don’t want to be a politician or an attorney. I don’t want to be a judge. I’m happy doing what I do best which is caring, loving, and living in awe of all that is. I’m lucky that I can see the sunlight and feel its warmth on my skin. I’m blessed that I can read and write and share with you some of my quirky ideas and perspective. You inspire me.
Thank you for reading and please be aware that I’ve a long term vision for Talkinggrid and that your donations, contributions, comments, LIKES, and shares all give Talkinggrid reason and the means to continue.
Best regards,
Frau Kolb
ON Time and OUT of Bed! Getting a Day off to a Good Start
How do you slice up your day? What do you put first? What do you do when you first get up? How does your day unfold from there? Does it vary from day to day, or are you a machine of routine, a mountain of repeating rituals?
Time, I am aware of as a flexible construct. To me, TIME is a foreign concept. It is an Swiss idea, made law by Northern Europeans desperate for a means of controlling the harsh realities of their ancestral weather and the need to parse out moments into useful chucks for agriculture. Farming, planting, and harvesting within the narrow band of spring, summer, and WOOPS you better get moving, because it is HARVEST time, autumn or fall arrives with merciless winds on its tail.
Time is a sand dial in the face of absurdity, a trickling remnant of the industrial revolution. Time is a horn, telling you what to do. Time is the LUNCH bell. Time is all those intrusive little blings and noises our “Smart Phones,” make. Reminding us that we must GO! GO! GO! Time is the slave master and his or her whip. We must run, before traffic, before the tourists arrive in swarms.
Despite our rushing, due to the fact that reality happens on its own schedule, TIME remains pretty flexible.
It stops. Time just stops, runs real slow, sometimes… when you are waiting for a boring lecture to finish, for example. Then it speeds up when you spend time with a best friend and LOOK you are gotta go. Time OVER. Done. How did that happen?
I sometimes get lost in projects. Time flies out the window, when I’m really writing, reading, painting, and/or complaining about not getting to do what I must. Interviewing, hiring, and firing eats up moments that might be spent, elsewhere. Yet, Chronos doesn’t control me because… I often ignore the old child-eating monster. I live by my own internal clock, thank goodness. I get up way early, because that works for me. I write best before distractions take over the day. I write best when the silence of the purple pre-dawn etches its name on my windowsill.
Then there is breakfast. I LOVE making breakfast for my family. I do. I’m big on it being the most important meal. Thus, I start with tea. I like mine milky, with stars in it, like a photograph by Ed Valfre, it goes down smooth. I make a big pot and pour some for my family. The sizzle of the skillet wakes me up further and tofu sausages are not out of the question. It varies, what we eat, but I always turn on the stove.
This week we had:
Sushi Rice Pudding with Coconut
Rollmops with Eggs and Salmon Caviar, the day before.
Organic almond milk, papaya, kale, goji-berry, raw cacao, and vanilla vegan Smoothy
Schwartzbrot mit Nutella and heaping cups of jersey cow yogurt and blueberries.
I cook, which takes time, but is so much better than exposing myself to the horrors of FAST FOOD, which is not so fast… if you consider how much it slows you down when you are fifty pounds overweight. (I’m sorry, but, I’ve not arrived at the point when ordering a seat belt extension is OK. Come on, people… stop it with the brand name garbage food! Invest time in eating foods that are minimally processed and LOOK for the organics, demand them for your family) If you are determined you can and will find a way to increase your intake of health food.
Eating enough organic kale, a box of it is less expensive than what ever budget meal you fork over a fortune for. Seven dollars, or less will buy you, rice, kale, and tofu for a homemade lunch *add a little garlic and salt, olive oil and KABOOM you are eating like a healthy California surfer DUDE!
Party ON!
An investment of time, which will pay in dividends and appreciation, is looking for organic food to eat with your family.
The day proceeds from there and it marches on in style when you have started it right. Meditation in the morning. Prayer. Sending love to the sick people. Making sure you get out of bed slowly or quickly enough to launch a lovely day is an art form. Guten morgen, Baby! Rise and get out there with a willingness to make today a worthwhile addition to a string of good days.
It really makes a difference, what you do in the morning. It sets the tone for the rest of the day.
So, make time for breakfast, pretty please!
Even when the clock which ticks to is own beat is out of sync with all other clocks it still operates as a drum would in battle. It keeps movement flowing at a rhythm in step with fate. Ah, Fortuna! You! There is a slim chance that you encounter life as a series of staccato beats, reasons to run from one job to the next gig, a life sprinkled with inhales and the end made elegant by a deep exhale into the mud.
IF so… keep to it, fighter. Yet, you are not to be picked for the Frau Kolb & The Talkinggrid, winning team, while snoring on the battlefield of an eternal rush-hour.