1. small but passionate band of artists form company in 1995
2. entire company sucks it up/busts hump to help build amazing reputation/following
3. reputation/following grows
4. reputation/following grows
5. reputation/following grows
6. heartless capitalist landlord gives band of artists the heave-ho
7. awesome (loaded) members of company contribute huge sums of money, buying the theater a home to live in
8. awesome (not-loaded) member of company contributes huge amounts of sweat equity and genius to create sterling reputation in local theater community to raise the theater’s profile
9. entire company sucks it up/busts hump to help build amazing reputation/following
10. reputation/following grows
11. reputation/following grows
12. reputation/following grows
13. grumbling in the ranks about too much sucking it up/hump-busting, particularly as regards being cast in plays
14. outright denial of unfair treatment by management
15. miscommunication builds
16. miscommunication builds
17. miscommunication builds
18. sides are taken
19. loaded members take ball and go home
20. not-loaded members take mailing list and go live out of (metaphorical) shopping cart
21. website mysteriously vanishes
22. former member/webmistress/general design lackey comes out of hiding to save “vanished” website, purchasing new URL, redirecting to new server
23. former member/webmistress/general design lackey, peeved over having to spend time needlessly recreating work because of childish vendetta, propagates new URL all over the intertubes to get Google rank back up, then shamelessly requests others to come to her aid and do same

xxx
c

P.S. The new home of the ER online is evidenceroomtheater.com. Pass it on…

TOPICS: evidence room, List-o-rama!, Los Angeles, Theater.

Bart. Alicia. Jason. Ames.

I remember what I thought after seeing my first evidEnce room show back in 1995, a production of Harry Kondeleon’s The Houseguests: how do they do it?

Kirk. Dorie. Lauren.
Rand, Colleen, Nick, Megan.

It was the same question I felt after seeing the next few shows: how do they do it? Find these great plays? Produce them like off-Broadway shows on no money? Get to work in this unbelievably cool space? Soon enough, it was replaced by another question: how can I do it with them?

John, Ann, Leo.
Ignacia, Lori, Don, Katie, Burr, Sissy.

My friend, Tom, a longtime company member, called one day and said they were looking for an understudy to cover performances for the formidable Pamela Gordon, who had just been cast in a recurring role on Buddy Faro. The part—half of a wealthy couple quarantined in their London home duing the last great plague—was enormous and way beyond my capabilities at the time, but the dress was teeny-tiny and already rented for the run.

I was in…sort of. It took years of scrabbling along in tiny parts before I felt like I got any kind of a foothold. Even then, I would alternately burst with pride over being part of such a prestigious company and fester with fury over my lowly status within it. Why was I not front and center? Why were my career and stature not improving, clusters of awards not accumulating, sonnets not being written in my name?

Dylan, O-Lan, Tad.
Ken. Johnny Z.
Liz, Alex, Alain, Uma, Ryan.

But a funny thing happened somewhere along the way: these people who had started out as—let’s be honest—the means to an end became the end, in and of themselves. I found myself caring less about being in the shows and more about being with the wonderful people who made them, both at the theater and outside of it. As a delightful and wholly unexpected bonus, the flyers I’d initially created semi-grudgingly as my contribution to the company somehow turned me into a graphic designer. A good one. A happy one.

Jessica. Michael. Lisa.

The adage has it that you shouldn’t be an actor unless you have to be. It seems like I don’t need it like I used to, and, accordingly, am letting it go, bit by bit: the search for a theatrical agent; the hustling for TV and film work; the constant cycle of rehearsal/perform/repeat.

Toby. Barbara. Beth. Wendy, Justin, Travis, Tommy.

I know that the hardest thing to let go of is going to be the Evidence Room; I also know it’s as inevitable as change itself that someday, I will.

With great sorrow. With a wee bit of wondering if I might have done things better.

But mostly, with a gratitude I never knew possible.

xxx
c

TOPICS: change, Daily Cosmic Shoutout, evidence room, self-development.

My theater company, Evidence Room, turned 10 this year. We’re celebrating with a kick-ass event/show/party tonight, tomorrow and Sunday: a live radio-concert restaging of our hit pulp/noir classic, No Orchids for Miss Blandish, by James Hadley Chase.

Lots of cocktails, live music and aforementioned hot chicks/cool cats (theater company + L.A. = lots of good-looking people) and a killer show.

And in case you’re not a regular, we also lay claim to the coolest party space in Los Angeles. No lie, Cy.

I’ll be there tonight, with bells on. And heels. And a private stash, if you know the secret password…

xxx
c

evidEnce room presents
a speakeasy radio-play concert celebration:
NO ORCHIDS FOR MISS BLANDISH
by James Hadley Chase
Fri - Sun, Feb 11-13 @ 8pm
at evidEnce room
2220 Beverly Blvd (at Alvarado)
Tickets $20
Info/Reservations: (213) 381-7118

TOPICS: evidence room, Los Angeles, Shameless plugs, Theater.

One of the 99¢ show’s Weird Family was out with strep throat tonight, so a longtime friend of and dramaturg for Orphean Circus gamely stepped in for him tonight at a moment’s notice. (I swear, they’re dropping like flies—it’s starting to sound like a TB ward in that dressing room.)

We were all a bit worried for Michael during the early show; it was already a hairy night for other reasons, and while he was more than familiar with the script and production, it’s quite a different thing when you’re on the other side of the footlights. Especially for the very first time.

But we needn’t have worried. Not only did he do a bang-up job delivering his lines and not bumping into the furniture (who was it who said that about acting, anyway—Spencer Tracy?), our budding superstar totally grabbed the spotlight and ripped his second act solo to shreds. Barbra Streisand, look out.

As we discussed in the lobby aprés, after your first show, you wonder why anyone wants to do this; after your second show, you wonder why anyone would want to do anything else.

xxx
c

TOPICS: evidence room, Los Angeles, Shameless plugs, Theater.

Upside of being in Peace Squad Goes 99: The Greatest 99¢ Only Story Ever Told…Ever!: you will, apparently, play to packed houses full of cheering audience members who throw the love at you across the footlights in overwhelming waves.

Downside: 3.5 hours/night strapped into plastic clothing with packing tape.

You just have no idea how wet underclothes can get until you have done back-to-back perfs of a 99¢ show.

Four weeks only, my babies. Reserve your seat now. You’ll kick yourself if you miss it.

xxx
c 

TOPICS: 99-cent show, communicatrix, evidence room, Ken Roht, Orphean Circus, Peace Squad, Shameless plugs.