What good is sitting alone in your room when you can come hear the music play?
Life is a cabaret, old chum, and tonight's, called "You're Gonna Hear from Me," featured the considerable talents of Billy Christopher Maupin. Having seen BC in cabaret mode before, I knew to get my butt in gear, walk the mile to Firehouse Theatre and get my name on the waiting list for the sold-out show.
Arriving early, the woman at the ticket desk informed me that tickets wouldn't be available until 7:00. Just then Firehouse's producing artistic director showed up, so she inquired if she could start selling tickets then. "Can you?" he asked. "This is Karen! Of course you can sell her a ticket. She's a VIP."
And there's the proof that the requirements for being a VIP have never been lower, although I was very happy to have gained entry. I wiled away the time before the house officially opened talking to a woman waiting for four friends to show up and complaining because, despite the fact that they're all ushers at multiple theaters around town, her friends have a tendency to show up five minutes before curtain time.
They should know better, she asserted. Someone needs parental guidance.
Once seated, I saw plenty of familiar faces: Byrd manager Todd came over to discuss last night's screening of "Vertigo," a fellow theater alliance panel member and her husband, a longtime member of the theater community I hadn't seen in eons and loads of local actors and dancers.
Best line overheard: "Distinguished character actors never go out of style!" said to, who else, a distinguished character actor.
The woman in front of me returned from the loo to praise the brand new bathroom to her daughter, who decided to go solely because her mother insisted she needed to see it. Daughter came back just as wowed, effectively leaving me no choice but to go see what all the fuss was about. I'll admit, I was impressed with the clean lines, spacious design and proximity.
When Joel came out to welcome the crowd and exhort us to visit the bar often, he, too, jumped on the bathroom bandwagon, suggesting we check out the new loos and perhaps, for nostalgia's sake, make the trek upstairs to look at the old bathrooms.
I made do with two trips to the new and called it a night.
BC arrived onstage to start the show in front of a red curtain in tight black pants, a black shirt and a white tie and barefoot, as he always is for these performances. Nearby was his fellow Campbellsville alumni Joshua Wortham on keyboard (and sly commentary) as they launched into "It's a Lovely Day."
"I feel like Norma Desmond!" he said dramatically when the song ended. Tonight or always, BC?
Since this wasn't my first rodeo, I knew that BC would make brilliant song choices, never more apparent than in the choice of "Nobody's Chasing Me" (which could have been my theme song from 2009 through 2018, but I digress) and his spirited delivery of it.
The breeze is chasing the zephyr
The moon is chasing the sea
The bull is chasing the heifer
But nobody's chasing me
The cook is chasing the chicken
The pea wakes up pee-wee-wee
The cat is taking a lickin'
But nobody's lickin' me
I mean, why go see a BC Maupin cabaret if you don't want to hear how he changes lyrics and chooses just the right songs to describe his life? We should all be so talented.
Between songs, he talked about moving back to Kentucky where he grew up and went to college ("I live in front of a farm now") and currently works a corporate job ("I don't fit in so well. Surprise!"). Then the guy whose favorite tag is #imakethingssometimes admitted, "I haven't made anything for a year and then this opportunity came up."
How's a boy supposed to resist that?
Alternating between standing in front of a mic stand and sitting on a stool, the evening unfolded as a series of songs interspersed with reminiscing about how he got to Richmond, his time in New York City (illustrated by singing Sondheim's "Another Hundred People"), his love life and his return to Richmond, always told with a healthy dose of self-deprecation and only occasionally, shaking hands.
Naturally, he managed to toss in a reference to having won an ARTSIE last year for having directed "Preludes" on the very stage on which he stood, hilariously following that with a casual mention of having previously won an ARTSIE for directing "Carrie."
"I may as well milk it while I'm in Richmond and people know what it means." Shout it to the rooftops, BC.
Calling dancer/choreographer Emily Berg-Poff Dandridge to the stage, the two of them became contestants on a game show with pianist Josh as the host. Using white boards to write their answers, they didn't manage to match even once, but their attempts were reliably funny. Asked if BC won the lottery what he would buy first, BC wrote "a theater." Emily wrote "booze, boys and Patti Lupone."
With enough lottery winnings, both seem achievable, they agreed.
After the game show portion ended, the two dueted on "Sisters" from "White Christmas," as unexpected a choice as it was charming. Their synchronized stool dancing was limited to leg crossing but the energy was high and the smiles were major wattage.
Explaining that everyone had told him that he couldn't put a cabaret together in two days, BC belted out Sondheim's "Everybody Says Don't" to refute that and then the emotional "I Was Here" before instructing us to use intermission to get a drink because it would make everything better.
Judging by the line at the bar, it was an obedient audience. Well, that and theater people love to drink.
For the second act, BC returned in the same ensemble except with his top button unbuttoned and a black tie, this time to sit at the keyboards and plink out a song before Josh seamlessly sat down to really play.
"It's nice to be back in Richmond," BC said, beaming at all the old friends in the audience. "I know that Virginia Rep is doing 'Chicago' next year, so here's my audition!" and launched into "When You're Good to Mama" with all the passion of a man who wants a role.
Finishing, he smiled devilishly at us and suggested, "Somebody call Nathaniel Shaw right now!" Too bad there wasn't a hot line to Virginia Rep.
Calling up Katrinah Carol Lewis, the two took stools as BC told the story of them seeing Audra McDonald together at the Carpenter Stage, a major event for the uber-Audra fan Katrinah. They both marveled that Audra's glass of water stood untouched all evening as she sang her heart out. "She did not touch it," BC said, clearly amazed. "Just to mock us," Katrinah added.
During an audience singalong, Audra stopped to ask who the beautiful soprano voice belonged to, leading to a one on one conversation with Katrinah about what she sang. When she answered "Your songs," Audra told her that the world already had one of her and needed one of Katrinah, too.
"When I got home that night, I put that in my pipe and smoked it," Katrinah laughed.
The two went on to do a soul-stirring version of "C'mon Get Happy/Happy Days are Here Again" that could have gone on for another half hour without anyone in the room complaining. When Katrinah took a bow before leaving the stage, audience members begged for one more from the two strong voices.
Instead, BC did his third and final tribute as uber-fan to his idol, Patti Lupone.
Saying that he and Josh hadn't wanted to use too much from their last cabaret, BC admitted that they had "Frankensteined this song back together" and I could barely stay in my seat for what I was hoping was to come. That's right, he did "Wonderful Guy" from "South Pacific," which went seamlessly into "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered," which slid right into "I Wish I Were in Love Again" - modified to "The classic battle of him and him" - with a brief tangent for "My Funny Valentine" before ending up back with "Wonderful Guy."
Sigh. It was fabulous and brilliant, or, as BC himself would say, Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
While he said that he'd wanted to end the show with a Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney put-on-a-show-in-a-barn kind of vibe, he also admitted that it didn't feel right. "So I'm going to do a song by a tree," he announced, signaling the end was near.
Listening to BC sing us out into the night, I couldn't have been the only one struck by how fortunate we were that he'd made his way back to Richmond to make a thing for us again, like he does. Wouldn't it be wonderful to think that he's considering bringing his award-winning talent back to the city that's already acknowledged twice that we like him, we really like him?
If I had any recommendation for such a talented man, it would be to buy a lottery ticket. But only if he promises to schedule regular cabarets with boys, booze and Patti Lupone at his theater. A healthy does of Richard Rodgers would be nice, too.
It's only a cabaret, old chum
And I love a cabaret
Hey, if he can put a cabaret this wonderfully entertaining together in two days, the boy can do anything.
Showing posts with label joshua wortham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joshua wortham. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
Friday, November 16, 2018
That's What She Said
He: How do you take it? She: Anyway you give it.
That simple exchange could sum up the entire evening. It was a girls' night out for dinner and a play, but it was the equal opportunity offender of a cabaret that got us most jazzed.
Make no mistake, dinner at Peter Chang in Scott's Addition - somehow, unbelievably, Queen B's first visit there - was every bit as fresh and expertly cooked as it always is (anything eaten with two scallion bubble pancakes is automatically memorable), not to mention netting all three of us compliments on our hair.
On a cold, rainy night, what woman doesn't love hearing that?
When we got to Richmond Triangle Players for "Who's Holiday," a look at the later life of Cindy Lou Who of Whoville, we picked up our tickets and were told to fill out a card with our worst Christmas present ever (although mine wasn't my worst, just lame), which Pru and I dutifully did.
It was like a ransom. We had to bare our souls before we were allowed into the theater.
Set in Cindy Lou Who's dilapidated trailer somewhere in the snowy hills of Mt. Crumpit, the one-woman play utilized the multi-talented Kimberly Jones-Clark as Cindy Lou, explaining through rhyme and song how her life had gone south after meeting the Grinch. I don't want to spoil anything here, but let's just say it was a tale about diversity and how sometimes your parents don't want you to marry someone who looks different than they do, even if he impregnates you.
Prejudice is real, y'all.
Telling that sad tale of woe involved a rap song sung under a spotlight in a darkened room (complete with conclusion reached: a Grinch is always a Grinch) and hearing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" sung in a pitch-perfect Judy Garland voice by Cindy Lou in a green leather bustier and red capri pants.
Fortunately, it also involved Cindy Lou realizing that the years spent in jail for killing the Grinch allowed her to blossom as a person and even, at the very end, reunite with the love child she and the Grinch had produced before his nasty fall off the mountain.
So, at least there was redemption.
And, it's probably safe to say, the holiday season has been officially kicked off since this was clearly a Christmas offering to theater-goers. Can't say I'm happy about such a ridiculously early start to the most annoying of seasons, but sometimes a play is just a play.
After it ended, some in the audience left, but most merely milled about because our programs clearly invited us to stay for a special holiday cabaret featuring Georgia Rogers Farmer and Josh Worsham afterward. And with only a brief, one act play to start, it was still awfully early.
Staff moved around clearing empty wine and cocktail glasses, but when a guy made a move to clear Pru's coffee mug, she looked disappointed to be reminded it was empty of caffeine. He responded by offering to fetch her a fresh cup and she was so surprised and grateful, she uncharacteristically agreed to take it anyway he gave it.
Don't quote me on this, but that may be the first time those words ever left her lips.
Last in line in the ladies' room, I overheard several women discussing how the theater will be building more bathrooms, a very good thing given that two stalls is never enough at intermission. Meanwhile, those of us in line marveled at all the dialog Clark had had to memorize to carry the entire play, an impressive feat. A woman washing her hands polled us all, asking who was staying for the cabaret.
Well, duh.
Pru and I knew what a treat we were in for, having seen Georgia on multiple occasions and being well aware of her double threat status when it comes to comedy and music. Her ensemble tonight was black pants, a black t-shirt printed with a tuxedo front, black Chuck Taylors (low tops) and shoulder-dusting rhinestone earrings for pizzaz.
She was accompanied by Josh Worsham, clad appropriately in a red holiday sweater that read, "Baaa humbug," and asking the crowd, "Are you drunk yet? You're going to wanna be!"
With their tongues planted firmly in cheeks, these two were primed to deliver the ideal holiday music for a heathen.
I'm talking about their song choices, beginning with "Text Me Merry Christmas (a smiley face will do)," a modern day ode to keeping your phone charged when your loved one is off celebrating with their family and you want to reach out.
Georgia cooed "Santa, Baby," walking through the room as she did so, and noting, "Everyone looks scared!" as she approached them. She must not have been able to smell fear on me because she stopped to sing a few lines to my face.
Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some decorations bought at Tiffany
I really do believe in you
Let's see if you believe in me
Josh did an extremely clever revision of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" called "The Restroom Door Said Gentlemen," replacing the traditional lyrics with more topical ones about the male and female signs being switched on public bathrooms and the problems that caused once he found himself in the ladies' loo.
The next song was introduced as for "our Jewish friends," resulting in Georgia singing "Shalom" to the tune of Adele's "Hello." With references to latkes ("We need more apple sauce!") and dreidels, their ode to the Chosen People had the audience dying laughing.
After putting on a scarf with a keyboard pattern, Josh announced, "This is a holiday favorite and, to be honest, I'm not sure why." The duo launched into "Baby, It's Cold Outside," with Georgia playing the part of the aggressor, feeding Josh drinks, rubbing her body parts on him and barring the door to punctuate the song's suggestive words. At one point, she lashed him to the couch so he had to spend the night at her place.
"Nothing like a politically incorrect song tonight!" an audience member seated next to Queen B called out about the very improper tune. But Georgia was quick, immediately calling back, "That's why we're here!"
To compensate, Georgia promised us a "sweet one" next, doing "I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus," eventually seeing Daddy hugging, fondling and finally undressing Santa before it was all over. What's sweeter than that?
I know, Josh's next song - "Coming Out This Christmas" was even more saccharine, with lines like, "Here's your Christmas present, Mom and Dad. I'm gay!" Meanwhile, Georgia draped a yellow and orange boa around his neck as he sang to drive the point home.
Not every song skewered tradition. There was a singalong to "Rudolph" and a straight version of "The Christmas Song," but all that was just prelude to the big number. When you've got a voice like Georgia's that spans octaves and the comedic timing of a pro, of course your slam bang winner is going to be "The Twelve Days of Christmas."
Except that instead of all that crap about turtle doves and marchers marching, Georgia was using the cards we'd filled out with our worst Christmas presents ever written on them. So, we got two "coupons for a free hug" and one pair of "used underwear from my Grandmama," that kind of thing. My personal favorite was the five "diabetic socks and I was only 45," for the way Georgia got all those syllables to work in that one line.
Although she sang through blocks of cement, MAGA hats, Chlamydia, electric curlers and fire extinguishers with no problem, she paused when she sang "half whistle bowtie" because, as Josh informed everyone, "For those who don't know, Georgia makes half whistle bowties."
Are you kidding? Beau is the bowtie king, so we know all about her talent.
But the best submission of all came directly from Pru, so we heard Georgia sing about 12 "home colonoscopy test kits," a line that cracked up the entire audience for its ridiculousness and had Pru calling out, "Thanks, Dad!" Queen B and I already knew about the test kits because Pru's Dad had gifted not just her but Queen B as well, even going so far as to try to explain how they worked before Pru shut him down.
Once the song ended, Josh called out to the crowd, asking who wanted to claim their entry and Pru raised her hand. Her worst gift offering had gotten the biggest laugh, by far, so why not be recognized for it? When Georgia saw her hand, she squinted at Pru and observed, "I thought sure you were the chlamydia!"
For submitting the finest worst present, Pru was awarded a limited edition ornament of Georgia and Josh, a holiday keeper the likes of which Hallmark only wishes they put it out first.
This most sacrilegious of holiday cabarets closed out with the Barbra Streisand arrangement for "Jingle Bells," chosen because it was what Josh's mother used to play while they decorated the Christmas tree.
My only question is, do you even have to come out to your parents if your Mom is already playing Babs for you? Doesn't she kind of know?
Personally, I've long been a fan of that album for all the unusual arrangements and offbeat timing on it, not to mention the woman's voice, a mainstay in my life since the Bicentennial. Because of that longevity, when we got to the line, "The horse was lean and lank. Misfortune seemed his lot. We got into a drifted bank and then we got upsot," I knew the proper response was, "Upsot?" and was one of a few who called it out.
That's how I take my doses of the holidays: with irreverence, bathroom humor and the occasional comedic bit from the queen of the Chosen People. Only latkes could have made it better.
That simple exchange could sum up the entire evening. It was a girls' night out for dinner and a play, but it was the equal opportunity offender of a cabaret that got us most jazzed.
Make no mistake, dinner at Peter Chang in Scott's Addition - somehow, unbelievably, Queen B's first visit there - was every bit as fresh and expertly cooked as it always is (anything eaten with two scallion bubble pancakes is automatically memorable), not to mention netting all three of us compliments on our hair.
On a cold, rainy night, what woman doesn't love hearing that?
When we got to Richmond Triangle Players for "Who's Holiday," a look at the later life of Cindy Lou Who of Whoville, we picked up our tickets and were told to fill out a card with our worst Christmas present ever (although mine wasn't my worst, just lame), which Pru and I dutifully did.
It was like a ransom. We had to bare our souls before we were allowed into the theater.
Set in Cindy Lou Who's dilapidated trailer somewhere in the snowy hills of Mt. Crumpit, the one-woman play utilized the multi-talented Kimberly Jones-Clark as Cindy Lou, explaining through rhyme and song how her life had gone south after meeting the Grinch. I don't want to spoil anything here, but let's just say it was a tale about diversity and how sometimes your parents don't want you to marry someone who looks different than they do, even if he impregnates you.
Prejudice is real, y'all.
Telling that sad tale of woe involved a rap song sung under a spotlight in a darkened room (complete with conclusion reached: a Grinch is always a Grinch) and hearing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" sung in a pitch-perfect Judy Garland voice by Cindy Lou in a green leather bustier and red capri pants.
Fortunately, it also involved Cindy Lou realizing that the years spent in jail for killing the Grinch allowed her to blossom as a person and even, at the very end, reunite with the love child she and the Grinch had produced before his nasty fall off the mountain.
So, at least there was redemption.
And, it's probably safe to say, the holiday season has been officially kicked off since this was clearly a Christmas offering to theater-goers. Can't say I'm happy about such a ridiculously early start to the most annoying of seasons, but sometimes a play is just a play.
After it ended, some in the audience left, but most merely milled about because our programs clearly invited us to stay for a special holiday cabaret featuring Georgia Rogers Farmer and Josh Worsham afterward. And with only a brief, one act play to start, it was still awfully early.
Staff moved around clearing empty wine and cocktail glasses, but when a guy made a move to clear Pru's coffee mug, she looked disappointed to be reminded it was empty of caffeine. He responded by offering to fetch her a fresh cup and she was so surprised and grateful, she uncharacteristically agreed to take it anyway he gave it.
Don't quote me on this, but that may be the first time those words ever left her lips.
Last in line in the ladies' room, I overheard several women discussing how the theater will be building more bathrooms, a very good thing given that two stalls is never enough at intermission. Meanwhile, those of us in line marveled at all the dialog Clark had had to memorize to carry the entire play, an impressive feat. A woman washing her hands polled us all, asking who was staying for the cabaret.
Well, duh.
Pru and I knew what a treat we were in for, having seen Georgia on multiple occasions and being well aware of her double threat status when it comes to comedy and music. Her ensemble tonight was black pants, a black t-shirt printed with a tuxedo front, black Chuck Taylors (low tops) and shoulder-dusting rhinestone earrings for pizzaz.
She was accompanied by Josh Worsham, clad appropriately in a red holiday sweater that read, "Baaa humbug," and asking the crowd, "Are you drunk yet? You're going to wanna be!"
With their tongues planted firmly in cheeks, these two were primed to deliver the ideal holiday music for a heathen.
I'm talking about their song choices, beginning with "Text Me Merry Christmas (a smiley face will do)," a modern day ode to keeping your phone charged when your loved one is off celebrating with their family and you want to reach out.
Georgia cooed "Santa, Baby," walking through the room as she did so, and noting, "Everyone looks scared!" as she approached them. She must not have been able to smell fear on me because she stopped to sing a few lines to my face.
Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some decorations bought at Tiffany
I really do believe in you
Let's see if you believe in me
Josh did an extremely clever revision of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" called "The Restroom Door Said Gentlemen," replacing the traditional lyrics with more topical ones about the male and female signs being switched on public bathrooms and the problems that caused once he found himself in the ladies' loo.
The next song was introduced as for "our Jewish friends," resulting in Georgia singing "Shalom" to the tune of Adele's "Hello." With references to latkes ("We need more apple sauce!") and dreidels, their ode to the Chosen People had the audience dying laughing.
After putting on a scarf with a keyboard pattern, Josh announced, "This is a holiday favorite and, to be honest, I'm not sure why." The duo launched into "Baby, It's Cold Outside," with Georgia playing the part of the aggressor, feeding Josh drinks, rubbing her body parts on him and barring the door to punctuate the song's suggestive words. At one point, she lashed him to the couch so he had to spend the night at her place.
"Nothing like a politically incorrect song tonight!" an audience member seated next to Queen B called out about the very improper tune. But Georgia was quick, immediately calling back, "That's why we're here!"
To compensate, Georgia promised us a "sweet one" next, doing "I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus," eventually seeing Daddy hugging, fondling and finally undressing Santa before it was all over. What's sweeter than that?
I know, Josh's next song - "Coming Out This Christmas" was even more saccharine, with lines like, "Here's your Christmas present, Mom and Dad. I'm gay!" Meanwhile, Georgia draped a yellow and orange boa around his neck as he sang to drive the point home.
Not every song skewered tradition. There was a singalong to "Rudolph" and a straight version of "The Christmas Song," but all that was just prelude to the big number. When you've got a voice like Georgia's that spans octaves and the comedic timing of a pro, of course your slam bang winner is going to be "The Twelve Days of Christmas."
Except that instead of all that crap about turtle doves and marchers marching, Georgia was using the cards we'd filled out with our worst Christmas presents ever written on them. So, we got two "coupons for a free hug" and one pair of "used underwear from my Grandmama," that kind of thing. My personal favorite was the five "diabetic socks and I was only 45," for the way Georgia got all those syllables to work in that one line.
Although she sang through blocks of cement, MAGA hats, Chlamydia, electric curlers and fire extinguishers with no problem, she paused when she sang "half whistle bowtie" because, as Josh informed everyone, "For those who don't know, Georgia makes half whistle bowties."
Are you kidding? Beau is the bowtie king, so we know all about her talent.
But the best submission of all came directly from Pru, so we heard Georgia sing about 12 "home colonoscopy test kits," a line that cracked up the entire audience for its ridiculousness and had Pru calling out, "Thanks, Dad!" Queen B and I already knew about the test kits because Pru's Dad had gifted not just her but Queen B as well, even going so far as to try to explain how they worked before Pru shut him down.
Once the song ended, Josh called out to the crowd, asking who wanted to claim their entry and Pru raised her hand. Her worst gift offering had gotten the biggest laugh, by far, so why not be recognized for it? When Georgia saw her hand, she squinted at Pru and observed, "I thought sure you were the chlamydia!"
For submitting the finest worst present, Pru was awarded a limited edition ornament of Georgia and Josh, a holiday keeper the likes of which Hallmark only wishes they put it out first.
This most sacrilegious of holiday cabarets closed out with the Barbra Streisand arrangement for "Jingle Bells," chosen because it was what Josh's mother used to play while they decorated the Christmas tree.
My only question is, do you even have to come out to your parents if your Mom is already playing Babs for you? Doesn't she kind of know?
Personally, I've long been a fan of that album for all the unusual arrangements and offbeat timing on it, not to mention the woman's voice, a mainstay in my life since the Bicentennial. Because of that longevity, when we got to the line, "The horse was lean and lank. Misfortune seemed his lot. We got into a drifted bank and then we got upsot," I knew the proper response was, "Upsot?" and was one of a few who called it out.
That's how I take my doses of the holidays: with irreverence, bathroom humor and the occasional comedic bit from the queen of the Chosen People. Only latkes could have made it better.
Monday, August 22, 2016
Moment of Truth
You know how it feels when you lose somebody you cared about deeply, someone you thought was the one?
Yea, well, Billy Christopher Maupin knows that feeling, too, only he's got a far better singing voice than you do and he's a whiz at mining soundtracks for musical gems to tell the highs and lows of trying to navigate the world once you've been smitten.
So quit yer whining.
The Camel was the setting for his cabaret, "This Fish Needs a Bicycle," an evening of history ("I was a virgin until I was 19"), self-reflection (resolving to be okay with being single) and observation ("I'm always hitting on straight guys"), accompanied by Tristan on guitar and Joshua on keyboards, punctuated by show tunes and obscure character-driven songs.
Occasionally a random dancer appeared to great effect, like when long-legged Emily began shimmying to "Sister Kate" right up the aisles between the tables to the stage.
As long as they were songs about missin' a feller, lovin' a man or muddlin' through heartache, he was all over it while nattily clad in a red blazer, black shirt and cuffed pants.
Barefoot, naturally.
From Oklahoma's "I Can't Say No" to a torch song such as "The Man I Love" to "Down With Love," with a Cher imitation (not just voice, but hair flipping as well) smack dab in the middle of a killer medley, it was pretty easy to see where this boy had channeled his feelings after his last big romance had ended.
Acknowledging his constant companion, stage fright, he promised to do one more song before the break, during which we were instructed to get a drink, order some dessert and avail ourselves of the bathroom, which he also planned to do.
Just as he was about to hop off the stage, he realized his error, sheepishly saying, "Oh, yea, the song."
Of course he'd told us about the romance that had spawned the evening earlier, because that's what lovesick people do after they call the whole thing off.
But their heart will go on, and in this case that meant the trio returned after a break (BC in a different blazer) only to start, stop and restart a song before realizing that their juju was off. "Okay, I'm just gonna go out and come in again," he said and once he did, all was well in the world of sung emotions.
BC brought up acoustic guitarist Psalm Swarr because at his request, she'd written a song about his breakup, telling him if he didn't want it, she'd sing it herself. Between Tristan's slide guitar and his harmonizing with Psalm and Emily, the heartbreaking song was rendered achingly.
There were songs about why people fall in love (can you say hormones? how about convenience?), future chances and endless optimism.
Things got a little emotional when he talked about getting really good at "hiding from life," but he also shared his attack plan: (F*ck that!" with enthusiasm), simultaneously citing Auntie Mame's advice abut life being a banquet while letting drop that Mame was one of his dream roles.
It never hurts to let people know what you want, said every kvetching mother ever.
When he came back for an encore, he asked the sell-out crowd, "One more?" and someone yelled out, "Ten more!" just before someone else laughing instructed, "Calm down there!"
Reaching in for a prime nugget with which to close the well-sung show, he pulled out Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Something Good" from "Sound of Music" and performed it like his life depended upon it.
Or at least his heart. The good news, he'd already sung, is that love is going around, heck, it's practically in the air.
Best to keep your resistance low.
Yea, well, Billy Christopher Maupin knows that feeling, too, only he's got a far better singing voice than you do and he's a whiz at mining soundtracks for musical gems to tell the highs and lows of trying to navigate the world once you've been smitten.
So quit yer whining.
The Camel was the setting for his cabaret, "This Fish Needs a Bicycle," an evening of history ("I was a virgin until I was 19"), self-reflection (resolving to be okay with being single) and observation ("I'm always hitting on straight guys"), accompanied by Tristan on guitar and Joshua on keyboards, punctuated by show tunes and obscure character-driven songs.
Occasionally a random dancer appeared to great effect, like when long-legged Emily began shimmying to "Sister Kate" right up the aisles between the tables to the stage.
As long as they were songs about missin' a feller, lovin' a man or muddlin' through heartache, he was all over it while nattily clad in a red blazer, black shirt and cuffed pants.
Barefoot, naturally.
From Oklahoma's "I Can't Say No" to a torch song such as "The Man I Love" to "Down With Love," with a Cher imitation (not just voice, but hair flipping as well) smack dab in the middle of a killer medley, it was pretty easy to see where this boy had channeled his feelings after his last big romance had ended.
Acknowledging his constant companion, stage fright, he promised to do one more song before the break, during which we were instructed to get a drink, order some dessert and avail ourselves of the bathroom, which he also planned to do.
Just as he was about to hop off the stage, he realized his error, sheepishly saying, "Oh, yea, the song."
Of course he'd told us about the romance that had spawned the evening earlier, because that's what lovesick people do after they call the whole thing off.
But their heart will go on, and in this case that meant the trio returned after a break (BC in a different blazer) only to start, stop and restart a song before realizing that their juju was off. "Okay, I'm just gonna go out and come in again," he said and once he did, all was well in the world of sung emotions.
BC brought up acoustic guitarist Psalm Swarr because at his request, she'd written a song about his breakup, telling him if he didn't want it, she'd sing it herself. Between Tristan's slide guitar and his harmonizing with Psalm and Emily, the heartbreaking song was rendered achingly.
There were songs about why people fall in love (can you say hormones? how about convenience?), future chances and endless optimism.
Things got a little emotional when he talked about getting really good at "hiding from life," but he also shared his attack plan: (F*ck that!" with enthusiasm), simultaneously citing Auntie Mame's advice abut life being a banquet while letting drop that Mame was one of his dream roles.
It never hurts to let people know what you want, said every kvetching mother ever.
When he came back for an encore, he asked the sell-out crowd, "One more?" and someone yelled out, "Ten more!" just before someone else laughing instructed, "Calm down there!"
Reaching in for a prime nugget with which to close the well-sung show, he pulled out Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Something Good" from "Sound of Music" and performed it like his life depended upon it.
Or at least his heart. The good news, he'd already sung, is that love is going around, heck, it's practically in the air.
Best to keep your resistance low.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Love is a Grand and a Beautiful Thing
So there goes the title of my autobiography.
"Still Mad About the Boys" had been appropriated by Billy Christopher Maupin for an evening of cabaret.
The fun was to be at Richmond Triangle Players, so I invited my favorite theater-lover to join me.
Knowing that songs, stories and a bar were in our future, we stopped at Lunch for a nosh first.
Within fifteen minutes, the restaurant was full of people I recognized from going to the theater.
A one-block proximity is hard to resist.
Inquiring of our soon-to-be harried server what Rose they had, she checked and responded, "The Seeker," a Rose Prudence and I had discovered on the Rose crawl two weeks ago.
"The Seeker?" we gasped in unison. Yes, please.
Dinner was a shared bowl of brown sugar bacon chili and corn griddle cakes with pulled pork and cole slaw.
I don't know that I've ever eaten lightly at Lunch, but then that's the pleasure of it.
Leaving the Cure blaring and the other theater-goers finishing up, we headed over to Richmond Triangle Players.
There we found a room full of actors, directors, dancers and a few people like us, mere theater-goers with no actual talent beyond fandom.
Our seats were separated by a table, just the place for a bottle of Sciarpa Pinot Grigio.
We saw a guy in the shiniest of jackets and asked if we could touch him (he said yes), only to find it was a brushed fabric, almost velvet-like, but shiny silver with thin black stripes.
He even took it off for us, looking for a fabric tag (there was none) and sharing the story of how he'd arrived in Rome but his baggage hadn't, so he'd headed down the Spanish Steps and found a shop open.
There he'd bought this beautiful Versace blazer ("Back when Versace was alive," he clarified, so pre-1997) which we were now stroking.
Ah, the pleasures of a theater crowd.
The reason for the evening, Billy Christopher, I'd seen act, direct and sing at the Ghost Light afterparty.
Tonight he walked onstage in a black shirt, jeans and barefoot and proceeded to sing a well-chosen program interspersed with the moving story of his coming out and love life.
It was nothing short of extraordinary.
"It's just you and us," he said gesturing at his two musicians. "For the next hour and a half. I think I just peed in my pants."
That was the beginning of the self-deprecating humor that pervaded the evening.
He said he'd last done a solo cabaret in 2008. "I've become much more terrified as a performer since then," he admitted before breaking into song.
After introducing his pianist Joshua and his guitarist Tristan, he spoke about his upbringing and college years in his hometown of Campbellsville, Kentucky.
It is apparently a school where homosexual acts were punishable by expulsion when he went there and are now punishable by mere suspension. A hard place for a gay kid to go to school, in other words.
Luckily there was a mall an hour away and on his first visit to Hot Topic, he locked eyes with a blue-eyed boy who became his first boyfriend. The rest was personal history, as we heard tonight.
He spoke about his farmer father, a simple man very different than himself, and one he clearly adores, saying, "Dad is possibly the boy I'm most mad about."
BC did a beautiful version "I'm Beginning to See the Light" before talking about his "forever fiancee" Jackie Jones and how their relationship had developed.
His best tribute to her was singing her standard audition song, an hysterical one about Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's seafaring, salty dog of a husband.
Getting everyone going with "Bring On the Men" from "Jekyll and Hyde," he couldn't resist playing the ham, running his hands through Tristan's thick hair or stroking Joshua's back as he sang.
So let's bring on the men
And let the fun begin
Another touch of sin
Why wait another minute?
There was nowhere to go from there but to intermission.
Starting the second act, he put on the sandals of a woman in the front row (marveling that they fit) and sang "Mad About the Boy."
That was followed by a monologue that began with, "I really hate camping."
I feel your pain, BC.
This was an introduction to a story about camping with a former boyfriend in Crabtree Falls, where he was promised a hike, a waterfall and an air mattress.
After explaining how the air mattress deflated and he ended up on vinyl over twigs (his worst fear), he sang the perfect song, "Good Thing He Can't Read My Mind," a feeling anyone in a relationship has probably experienced.
The song about suffering along to the opera ("I don't understand a word, even when it's in English"), skiing ("There's no exhilaration, I'm only feeling terrified") and sushi ("I'm poking with a chopstick at a living, breathing fish stick") was laugh-out-loud funny and we did.
From those hi-jinks, he moved on to telling us about the only man he'd ever called "partner" and how once they acknowledged their feelings, "I never slept in my bed again."
As we all have learned, even the best relationships sometimes end, but his acceptance and memory of the relationship was touching, to say the least.
"That was perfect and I'll never have that again and that's okay," he said and sang "Once Upon a Time."
Just as we were all ready to cry, he lifted us back up again, saying, "Every act has a great medley. I made that up because we have a medley."
And not just any medley, but a reconstruction of a reconstruction of a medley from his first solo cabaret.
Even better, it was a Richard Rodgers medley.
By this time, I thought I was going to explode out of my seat, except the woman next to me was even more crazed than I was about it, whistling and yelling.
BC kicked off with "Wonderful Guy" from "South Pacific," went on to "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" from "Pal Joey," and then did "I Wish I Were in Love Again" and "My Funny Valentine," both from "Babes in Arms."
The crowd was hooting and hollering with delight at his renditions.
"Tonight's been about love for me," he said to wind up the show. "I challenge you each to love someone or everyone. Why not?"
His last song was "The Rose," achingly sung and the perfect finale to an evening of soul-baring and classic song-singing.
To take it over the top, certain appointed people in the audience rose one by one and joined him, singing harmony or background and giving the rest of us chills.
One guy even lit his lighter in tribute.
After a standing ovation for both him, Joshua and Tristan, who had added immeasurably to every song, BC bounded back to inquire if we wanted an encore.
Why, yes, we did as a matter of fact.
Could there be a better way to end a cabaret than with a song from "Cabaret"?
"Maybe This Time," with its hopeful and poignant lyrics sung with every ounce of his heart and soul brought the house down.
Maybe this time I'll be lucky
Maybe this time, he'll stay
Maybe this time for the first time
Love won't hurry away
There's nothing like hearing someone sing it like they mean it.
I do hope Billy Christopher is lucky.
I know very single one of us in the audience felt that way by the time he finished with us.
"Still Mad About the Boys" had been appropriated by Billy Christopher Maupin for an evening of cabaret.
The fun was to be at Richmond Triangle Players, so I invited my favorite theater-lover to join me.
Knowing that songs, stories and a bar were in our future, we stopped at Lunch for a nosh first.
Within fifteen minutes, the restaurant was full of people I recognized from going to the theater.
A one-block proximity is hard to resist.
Inquiring of our soon-to-be harried server what Rose they had, she checked and responded, "The Seeker," a Rose Prudence and I had discovered on the Rose crawl two weeks ago.
"The Seeker?" we gasped in unison. Yes, please.
Dinner was a shared bowl of brown sugar bacon chili and corn griddle cakes with pulled pork and cole slaw.
I don't know that I've ever eaten lightly at Lunch, but then that's the pleasure of it.
Leaving the Cure blaring and the other theater-goers finishing up, we headed over to Richmond Triangle Players.
There we found a room full of actors, directors, dancers and a few people like us, mere theater-goers with no actual talent beyond fandom.
Our seats were separated by a table, just the place for a bottle of Sciarpa Pinot Grigio.
We saw a guy in the shiniest of jackets and asked if we could touch him (he said yes), only to find it was a brushed fabric, almost velvet-like, but shiny silver with thin black stripes.
He even took it off for us, looking for a fabric tag (there was none) and sharing the story of how he'd arrived in Rome but his baggage hadn't, so he'd headed down the Spanish Steps and found a shop open.
There he'd bought this beautiful Versace blazer ("Back when Versace was alive," he clarified, so pre-1997) which we were now stroking.
Ah, the pleasures of a theater crowd.
The reason for the evening, Billy Christopher, I'd seen act, direct and sing at the Ghost Light afterparty.
Tonight he walked onstage in a black shirt, jeans and barefoot and proceeded to sing a well-chosen program interspersed with the moving story of his coming out and love life.
It was nothing short of extraordinary.
"It's just you and us," he said gesturing at his two musicians. "For the next hour and a half. I think I just peed in my pants."
That was the beginning of the self-deprecating humor that pervaded the evening.
He said he'd last done a solo cabaret in 2008. "I've become much more terrified as a performer since then," he admitted before breaking into song.
After introducing his pianist Joshua and his guitarist Tristan, he spoke about his upbringing and college years in his hometown of Campbellsville, Kentucky.
It is apparently a school where homosexual acts were punishable by expulsion when he went there and are now punishable by mere suspension. A hard place for a gay kid to go to school, in other words.
Luckily there was a mall an hour away and on his first visit to Hot Topic, he locked eyes with a blue-eyed boy who became his first boyfriend. The rest was personal history, as we heard tonight.
He spoke about his farmer father, a simple man very different than himself, and one he clearly adores, saying, "Dad is possibly the boy I'm most mad about."
BC did a beautiful version "I'm Beginning to See the Light" before talking about his "forever fiancee" Jackie Jones and how their relationship had developed.
His best tribute to her was singing her standard audition song, an hysterical one about Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's seafaring, salty dog of a husband.
Getting everyone going with "Bring On the Men" from "Jekyll and Hyde," he couldn't resist playing the ham, running his hands through Tristan's thick hair or stroking Joshua's back as he sang.
So let's bring on the men
And let the fun begin
Another touch of sin
Why wait another minute?
There was nowhere to go from there but to intermission.
Starting the second act, he put on the sandals of a woman in the front row (marveling that they fit) and sang "Mad About the Boy."
That was followed by a monologue that began with, "I really hate camping."
I feel your pain, BC.
This was an introduction to a story about camping with a former boyfriend in Crabtree Falls, where he was promised a hike, a waterfall and an air mattress.
After explaining how the air mattress deflated and he ended up on vinyl over twigs (his worst fear), he sang the perfect song, "Good Thing He Can't Read My Mind," a feeling anyone in a relationship has probably experienced.
The song about suffering along to the opera ("I don't understand a word, even when it's in English"), skiing ("There's no exhilaration, I'm only feeling terrified") and sushi ("I'm poking with a chopstick at a living, breathing fish stick") was laugh-out-loud funny and we did.
From those hi-jinks, he moved on to telling us about the only man he'd ever called "partner" and how once they acknowledged their feelings, "I never slept in my bed again."
As we all have learned, even the best relationships sometimes end, but his acceptance and memory of the relationship was touching, to say the least.
"That was perfect and I'll never have that again and that's okay," he said and sang "Once Upon a Time."
Just as we were all ready to cry, he lifted us back up again, saying, "Every act has a great medley. I made that up because we have a medley."
And not just any medley, but a reconstruction of a reconstruction of a medley from his first solo cabaret.
Even better, it was a Richard Rodgers medley.
By this time, I thought I was going to explode out of my seat, except the woman next to me was even more crazed than I was about it, whistling and yelling.
BC kicked off with "Wonderful Guy" from "South Pacific," went on to "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" from "Pal Joey," and then did "I Wish I Were in Love Again" and "My Funny Valentine," both from "Babes in Arms."
The crowd was hooting and hollering with delight at his renditions.
"Tonight's been about love for me," he said to wind up the show. "I challenge you each to love someone or everyone. Why not?"
His last song was "The Rose," achingly sung and the perfect finale to an evening of soul-baring and classic song-singing.
To take it over the top, certain appointed people in the audience rose one by one and joined him, singing harmony or background and giving the rest of us chills.
One guy even lit his lighter in tribute.
After a standing ovation for both him, Joshua and Tristan, who had added immeasurably to every song, BC bounded back to inquire if we wanted an encore.
Why, yes, we did as a matter of fact.
Could there be a better way to end a cabaret than with a song from "Cabaret"?
"Maybe This Time," with its hopeful and poignant lyrics sung with every ounce of his heart and soul brought the house down.
Maybe this time I'll be lucky
Maybe this time, he'll stay
Maybe this time for the first time
Love won't hurry away
There's nothing like hearing someone sing it like they mean it.
I do hope Billy Christopher is lucky.
I know very single one of us in the audience felt that way by the time he finished with us.
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