Curtain Up

Welcome to my blog, an eye on the world from deep in the depths of rural Ohio, where I remain one of the select mad few who persist in trying to stage high art in a farm town just because we know how desperately valuable a breath of clean, creative air is to those who want something more out of life than mere survival. New York or London may jadedly toast the flavor of the season in the arts, but out here amongst the fields of corn, art is no affectation. Art is for survival of the soul in these parts.

The territory to be covered here:

• Theatre. I am a playwright, actor, director and producer. Theatre compresses and heightens stories in a way that can shake you to your bones, whether comedically or passionately or murderously. Those who are willing to try a little live theatre (and can endure the fact that a lot of theatrical productions misfire) are in for rich rewards.
  
• Poetry. I am a poet publishing my first chapbook in 2010 after years of writing. Verbal chant has been the lifeblood of humanity for at least several thousand years. No reason it should stop now.
  
• History. Yeah, yeah, Santayana and all that. But I'm talking human stories, not lists of dates and names of documents. History haunts all human life.
• Literature. Cultivated writing still strikes me as the one of the most astonishing artforms ever created. A good prose writer can capture the experience of a situation better than a photographer, musician, painter, dancer, or anyone.
• Music. Music is the most elusive art, the only one that can capture the emotions and experiences that fall between our blunt words and dim images. All love all music, with the exception of musics blatantly written for profit. And sometimes even they are good.
• Classical Music. Educated people who know Whitman, Van Gogh, and Tolstoy ought to know Handel, Mahler, and Shostakovich. It is a mistake to leave classical music to the elites. It is the cream of the human experience, and can be claimed by anyone. I can't speak for anyone else, but I know that I need every clue, every insight to life that I can find, and the geniuses of classical music had many. Lots of dead European white guys? For a while they were. So? Today's geniuses coming out of that tradition are from all countries, of all colors, and all genders. Every wave starts somewhere. What matters is where it ends up.

So welcome to my hilltop in rural Gambier, Ohio, where I sit overlooking the cornfields that feed the nation and summon dreams.