Logan Benedict is Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson ~ All Good News!

Sometime between October 11 and November 4th, I'll be on the train to Portland to see Logan in "Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson."

This morning, I received the following email: 

I was offered my first title role in the Portland Premiere of a new musical called “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.” This theatre attracts the best people in Portland, so it’s an honor to get the offer. It’s also exciting to know the whole cast is going to be great.

It’s almost impossible to explain what the show’s about without totally confusing you, so I’ve attached links to clips and features on the Broadway version. Artistically this is going to be an amazing character to portray and develop, so I couldn’t be more excited.

It’s a new and intimate theatre, but it gets tons of buzz and I’m certain this will be the most talked about show this fall. It’ll run 10/11-11/4 and has an option for a two week extension, which will happen most likely.

“Rent” starts rehearsals a week from Wednesday, and I’ll start “BBAJ” 9/11. Things are looking up! Enjoy the clips.

(I left the grandparents off this email due to the swearing . . . and general adultness of the show . .  . so I’ll inform them separately.)

Love,

Logan

http://www.loganbenedict.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F38kGsMr5s4

This is a seven minute piece that PBS did on the show. The writer talks about the how he shaped the characters. Probably the best video to explain the madness of this musical. Very cool.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRSlBjNhqjY
5 minutes of Jackson music. It’s basically like doing a drama, a comedy and a rock concert every night. GREAT music. Best example of what you’re going to see me do.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkKUuCRf55U
This clip has interviews from the writers and the original star with pics/vids from the show and discussions on parallels between Andrew Jackson and today’s politics.
http://portlandplayhouse.org/season-five-we-the-people
Theatre Site
http://theater.nytimes.com/2010/10/14/theater/reviews/14bloody.html?pagewanted=all
New York Times Review
http://www.portlandmonthlymag.com/arts-and-entertainment/articles/best-diversions-may-2012/
Voted Best Theatre
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Portland-Playhouse/117958841762
Theatre’s Facebook page. Some nice photos of past productions

Picnic in the Theater Lobby ~ Perfect!

                             

For several years, my friend Audrey has included me in tickets for a couple of shows at the Seattle Rep.

Here's the drill: I'd pick her up at the ferry terminal and then we'd decide what to do for a small dinner. Some times it was a wonderful wine bar near the theater. Or, other times, we'd cruise the deli aisle at Metropolitan Market up the street and eat in the small cafe near the deli.

The last few times, we packed a picnic and brought it to the theater lobby. I'm sure this breaks at least half a dozen laws, but . . .

It's a classic picnic. A baguette, a bottle of wine, some cheese and fruit. We bring a couple of linen napkins, two wine glasses, a cork screw and some spreaders.

Sure the lobby picnic has it's pitfalls. When we went to see I am my own wife, we ended up misplacing one of Audrey's napkins and my corkscrew. When she went to the next production, she stopped by the "Lost and Found" to retrieve the errant items. They barely even gave her "the eyebrow" when she picked them up.

Last night, we went to see Clybourne Park. And, our little (probably totally illegal) picnic went off without a hitch! I brought the baguette, the brie, the fresh strawberries, the oblong celadon plate, the spreaders, a bread knife and the linen napkins in a festive tote from my friend, Sally. Audrey brought the wine, the glasses, the cork screw and of course, the tickets and parking voucher.

Everything was just what you'd want in a picnic ~ perhaps, most astonishingly the strawberries. I'm always leery of store-bought strawberries ~ always in the winter, but especially at the beginning of the season. These were completely beautiful but . . . experience has shown that the more beautiful the strawberry, the more likely it is to be flavourless. Really beautiful but tasteless strawberries always remind me of a room full of 18 year old beauty queens. Beautiful but not much going on otherwise. Depressing, in a way.

But, these were not 18 year old beauty queens. They were not only beautiful but toothsome and delicious.

And, what a picnic. One woman stopped by to give us homemade oatmeal cookies. Another couple joined us at our little table. Very convivial. Very casual. Very perfect in every way. The production was stunning. A wonderful evening.

Day 30 Everyday Grateful ~

Talked with Audrey while walking 

to the REP about what

wonderful lives  we have and

how much we have to be grateful for.

True, all true . . .

Sunny

Happy

Excuse Me, Madame. Will You Come with Me, Please?

This is only funny because I didn't end up in jail.

So, in the late 80's, a friend of mine called me on a Sunday morning to say, "Round trip London from Seattle ~ $300. Let's go see the Phantom." It's wonderful when decisions are so easy. She, my sister and I bought tickets on Monday and traveled on Wednesday (Margaret Thatcher resigned on Thursday but, I don't think that had anything to do with our trip.)

We went without any lodging accommodations but, a friend said, "Don't worry. Tell the cabbie to take you to Russell Square and go from house to house until you find a B&B you like." And, so, we did. As we got into the cab, the driver said, "Russell Square, eh? You yanks really like it. It's cheap and cheery."

So, I have this romantic idea of travel. Pack light! I had my Ghurka Express No. 2 that I bought at Nordstrom for many, many hundreds less than it's selling for now. I packed a couple of black Danskin long sleeved scoop necked tops, a couple pair of black cotton cargo pants, black ballet flats, a pashmina shawl, some undies, mascara (hey, I grew up in the 60's. I believe it is impossible to wear too much mascara.) and, my Calvin Klein trenchcoat. Room to spare in my little Ghurka.

I'd never been to London before. My friend, Barb, said, "You must go to the silver vaults."

The first night we were there, we went immediately to buy tickets to the Phantom. Wow, should we go tonight? But, of course! That's why we're here, isn't it?

OK, OK, I admit it. I'm one of those people who is really affected by jetlag. I think I saw the Phantom. There was this little pole in exactly the center of my vision. Not very big, mind you, but, it did bisect the stage perfectly. What I do know is that my friend, Audrey, kept jabbing me in the ribs with her very bony elbow every time my head dipped an inch out of plumb.

A good time was had by all. We went to the theater nearly every night. We museumed, galleried, fished and chipped. And, silver vaulted.

Oh, The Silver Vaults! Be still my heart.

Three or four floors down in the basement of a building on Chancery Lane. It really is vaults. One right after the other of the most amazing antique shops filled with just about every kind of sterling silver, silverplate imaginable. Punch bowls large enough to bathe your six year old. Goblets. Plates. Chandeliers. Letter openers. Desk accessories. Service for 24 with every single possible implement. And, on and on. Wonderful. A feast for the eyes, but, oh, the prices. Too much for this cowgirl. So, I started thinking small. Very small. Butter knives. Certainly silverplate ~ sterling was out of the question. And, I did find the most darling butter knife with a pearl handle carved in a spiral. Sold. Then, I found a really well-priced fish knife and fork set. Oooh, not expensive and very pretty. Sold.

Finally, our wonderful trip was over and we headed to Heathrow and home. As we were standing in line, a lovely man tapped me on the arm and said, "Excuse me, madame. Will you come with me, please? Here, I'll take your bag." How nice, I thought. It was sort of like when the checker at QFC pulls you out of the slow line and you breeze through while everyone else hangs out in the slow lane.

But, wait! I really don't like this line. I turned to see my sister and Audrey. They shrugged their shoulders. They didn't know either. As I got closer to my new line, one thing was perfectly clear. All the terrorists at Heathrow were in this line. It looked like a central casting call. Terrorists of all nationalities, races, colours and creeds. The only thing missing was one with an eye patch and maybe a parrot on his shoulder or perhaps a dueling scar. Merde! What the hell? I don't belong here, I thought, I'm wearing an eight hundred dollar Calvin Klein trenchcoat! The line began to move. As I approached the agent, I noticed the man in front of me was standing impassively as the agent took out a razor blade and slit the lining of his carry-on to shreds. Jesus! He's wearing a trenchcoat, too! He didn't move a muscle or clench a jaw. He just watched the customs agent reduce his once really beautiful satchel to ruin.

Oh God! Nightmare! Finally, the man with the formerly beautiful attaché gathered up all the pieces, tucked them under his arm and, not looking back, walked off to get on his plane.

Oh, dear! Oh, dear! My beautiful Ghurka bag!

The agent signaled me to come forward. I guess he could tell I swung between terrified and deeply puzzled. He reached down, picked up my bag and placed it on the table. "Is this your bag?" Yes, I said. "Would you mind opening it for me?" Of course, I said. I unzipped my bag and there on top of all my clothes? My 9" long fish knife! Oh, Christ! I thought. I'm going to throw up ~ and, then I'm going to jail! We locked eyes. And, he smiled. "I don't think you are going to hijack the plane with a fish knife, but, how about if I wrap it and the butter knife back up, give it to the steward and you can pick it up in Seattle?"

Oh, yes. Thank you. That would be lovely, I said. And, with a deep sigh of relief, I gathered up my beautiful Ghurka and went off to get on my plane.

There's a lesson here, but, you know what it is . . .

http://www.thesilvervaults.com/

http://www.ghurka.com/EXPRESS%7C%7CKhaki%20Twill

Day 18 Everyday Grateful ~ Sunny!

Walked around the newly planted pots. Heaven!
Planted basil from Trader Joe's in my little kitchen garden.
Happy!

Guess Who Is Playing "Benny" in Rent?

This summer, my son, Logan will play "Benny" in Seattle's 5th Avenue Theater production of Rent. The show is a new staging of this award-winning play and features an "exciting cast of young Seattle musical theater stars."

What a long and thrilling road it's been.




Now, keep in mind, this is a mother speaking . . . at 6'4", Logan is definitely tall, dark and handsome which works very well when you are, say, 20 years old; not so well, when you are, say, 9 years old.

When Logan was little, he was utterly self-composed. He wasn't shy, but, he was not interested in small talk or useless banter, either. In the spring of third grade, he wanted to try out for the local youth theater production of The Wizard of Oz. (Don't ask me. I don't know why. It's a mystery.) After the preliminary audition, Logan got a call-back. We arrived that Saturday for call-backs and found a gym full of dozens of other children and many "stage" parents (think the owners in Best in Show but parents of kids. Yikes! Terrifying.) At the end of the audition, the director said, "We will let you know by 9:00pm on Monday if you are in the show. If you do not receive a call by 9:00, thank you very much. Please try again next year."

On Monday night, Logan was pacing and pacing around the house. It took me a while to tumble to what was bothering him. Around 8:45pm, he asked me what time it was. Oh, no! I thought. "It's not 9:00 o'clock yet, Dear," I said. Now, I was angst ridden. A while later, he asked for the time again. I turned and looked at the clock. Oh, God, no! "Oh, Logan, I'm so sorry. It's 9:03."

His eyelids fell. His head dropped to his chest. His shoulders rounded and slumped. Desolation. Utter, abject despair. "Good night," he said, softly. Then, slowly he turned and trudged off to bed. Talk about rip-your-heart-out!

The next day, when I picked him up from school, he sat in the front seat, his head turned to the window. "Did you have a good day, Dear?" I asked. His head moved slowly from side to side. "Did something happen?" He put his head back on the headrest and with an anguished, heart-rending wail, he said, "My friend gets to be a monkey!" Then, between gulps of tears ~ "Can I take acting lessons?"

Thus, began the musical theater career of Logan Benedict. For the first seven or so years, he was too tall to play the kid and too young to play the hero. Mostly, he played tall things. Not quite trees, mind you, but definitely an actor looking for his place. I think his first "break" was the Gene Kelley role in Brigadoon. At the end of the first week of rehearsals, he came home in a funk. "I stink. They don't think I can sing." Oh, I thought, thank God, we live in the suburbs. "Don't worry, Dear." I got out the yellow pages (what can I say, it was preInternet.) and called every single voice teacher listed in the Seattle area. My voicemail went something like this: "Hi, this is Heidi Benedict, my son needs to start voice lessons tomorrow morning, say, 10:00? Please call me back if you are available."

Gawd, it's times like this when I love the suburbs. Of course, I got a call back. Of course, Logan started voice lessons at 10:00 that Saturday morning. And, while the rest isn't quite history, it was forward momentum.

Then, my husband died the week before Logan was to start high school. Shattering. Painful. Heartbreaking. Three weeks later, Logan was on stage starring in another youth theater production. He was so brave and luminous. We all sat in the audience weeping through the whole show.

High school was difficult. Logan was grieving and I was urging him to keep his grades up. Yes, he continued to get the leads in the local youth theater productions, but, a lot of the spark had gone out. His clown spirit was broken.

In the middle of his Junior year, I sat down with him and said, "I don't want to be the mother who is constantly on you about school. I think it's affecting our relationship. So, I'll leave your studies to you. You can take care of this yourself."

When Logan puts an plan into action, he is relentless. Obstacles know better than to stand in his way. Even now looking back, it's clear, he worked. And, how! Between rowing practice every day after school, studying for his school classes and participating in the school's elite music group, I hardly saw him.

That fall, when he sent out his college applications, he was accepted at his first choice ~ The Boston Conservatory. The perfect place for this young man to shine. And, he did.

From regional theater to regional theater, he's come up through the ranks. Playing Smudge in Forever Plaid in Boston to Harold Hill in The Music Man, to Gaston in Beauty and the Beast in Seattle, to working at Disney World to Lancelot in Camelot to Frank Butler in Annie Get Your Gun in Portland to Rapunzel's Prince at Seattle's 5th Avenue in Into the Woods and,

now, in Seattle at the 5th Avenue Theater ~ Benny in Rent!

 

Starting this summer on July 21st,

I, of course, will be sitting in the audience ~

with my box of Kleenex.

I'll keep you posted.

www.loganbenedict.com

http://www.5thavenue.org/

Day 2 Everyday Grateful ~ for my lovely son.