Last chance to see EINSTEIN/TAGORE: SEASHORE OF ENDLESS WORLDS. With officially only a 20-seat storefront house, all 3 shows last weekend were sellouts: 31 people Friday night, 27 Saturday night, even the Sunday matinee was a sellout at 23. We have 3 shows left starting tonight. As of this morning the Saturday show is sold out, the Friday show has only 3 seats left, but tonight’s show remains open so if you’d like to see it then tonight is probably your best bet.
Thank you so much for coming to our 2012 Philly Fringe show EINSTEIN/TAGORE: SEASHORE OF ENDLESS WORLDS. As Shiva3 Productions (which started as a lark in last year’s Philly Fringe show and then turned into something real) I’ve served as the behind-the-scenes producer, marketer and graphic designer as well as the script consultant for Einstein and Tagore’s adapted conversations recited during the show. We’ve been truly humbled by the unexpectedly large numbers in attendance for our modest-sized art gallery space. It’s been a thrill for us. The Philly Fringe is primarily theatre-centric, so here we are off to the side in the dance category, and within that we’re something apparently called “ethnic dance” which further reduced our audience expectations, and in a storefront art gallery instead of a theatre. This show was purely art for art’s sake. You have blown our assumptions about Philadelphia out of the water.
With officially only a 20-seat house, 5 out of 6 shows were sellouts hovering around an audience of 30, and we were literally turning more people away at the door. If and when the show returns we promise a larger venue with better sightlines. In the meantime please enjoy ourrave review in the City Paper.
Rave review of EINSTEIN/TAGORE: Seashore of Endless Worlds
by Josh Middleton, Philadelphia City Paper
Taking place in the intimate front room of Twelve Gates Arts gallery in Old City, producer/choreographer/director/dancer Leslie Elkins and Jodi Obeid star in this diamond-in-the-Fringe-rough show…the dancing is why you should put this on your Fringe itinerary. The dancer is a force…this little must-see will take you on a mesmerizing cultural journey you’ll want to take again and again.
“Taking place in the intimate front room of Twelve Gates Arts gallery in Old City, producer/choreographer/director/dancer Leslie Elkins and Jodi Obeid star in this diamond-in-the-Fringe-rough show inspired by the well-documented religion-versus-science discussions between Einstein and Tagore. Though there is some dialog — the dance routines are interspersed with quick, straight-from-the-script readings by Elkins and Obeid — the dancing is why you should put this on your Fringe itinerary. Dasgupta, decked out in gorgeous, traditional Indian garb, is a force, engaging every ounce of her being in routines that run the gamut from energetic and attention-demanding (“Mangalam: Honoring the Elements”) to rip-your-heart-out passionate (“Trance”). Elkins and Obeid, both with backgrounds in contemporary dance, join in on a few numbers, too, most notably the final performance to Bikram Ghosh’s refreshingly funky “Rhythm Speaks.” It doesn’t have the high-flying acrobatics you might find in some of the more-hyped Live Arts dance shows, but this little must-see will take you on a mesmerizing cultural journey you’ll want to take again and again.” Full listing and review at http://www.citypaper.net/authors/josh_middleton/FRINGE-REVIEW-EinsteinTagore-Seashore-of-Endless-Worlds.html
Allow me to take a moment to drop the self-aggrandizing persona that’s part and parcel of our show and break character as it were (even though I was playing myself so try and make sense of that). Even with a one-man show there’s no such thing as a one-man show. Part of the joy of producing theatre is that it’s a collaborative medium that requires teamwork.
First I’d like to thank my superbly imaginative supergenius director Daniel Student who elevated our show from a mere monologue or storytelling session into a true theatrical experience. Our show got great press but rarely is the director mentioned in the chaotic coverage of a fringe festival. So, many thanks to Dan for bringing our show to life while staying true to my vision for the show and to its themes.
Then there’s Randy Dalton, the sculptor behind the Blue Grotto, a lost gem in Philly’s art scene into which I was thrilled to help breathe new life. The Grotto is Randy’s baby but he was extremely welcoming and accommodating, letting us remove or relocate certain objects to improve sightlines, letting us come and go as we pleased at all hours, letting me summon the dead and offer them a new place to live, and even letting us replace some of his blue bulbs with white light to add a high contrast, flashlight-under-the-face, campfire ghost story mood when I stepped into certain areas.
Also I must thank CEC Executive Director Terri Shockley and Building Manager Scott NAME for their assistance, flexibility and curiosity about our show.
I must also thank Shiva3 Productions and Iggy Rocketboy, a fellow newcomer (even newer than me) to Philly. This young man’s unorthodox approach to publicity and marketing put us in the limelight — no easy feat when competing against literally dozens of other fringe shows on any given night. The Rep Radio interview, and coverage by philly2philly.com, the City Paper, the West Philly Review, the Daily Pennsylvanian (who named us one of their 5 Must See shows) and the Philly Daily News all happened largely due to iRock’s quirky machinations and tendency to write his own playbook as went along, delighting in breaking nearly every rule of what passes for professional theatrical PR in this town.
I am deeply indebted and grateful also to my beautiful rocket scientist superwife Pia whose patience and willingness to let me disappear night after night to rehearse and to perform, her willingness even to curtail our summer vacation plans for the show, and her eagerness to sit in on dress rehearsals and offer feedback, went stratospherically above and beyond the call of spousal duty.
And lastly there are my eternally beloved guest stars who shared the stage with me night after night on extremely short notice — SHALEE, DAVID, MALA, F.R.A., “NAMAZ,” “KHEF” and all the other nameless souls. God bless them all and may they find peace, wherever and whatever they are.
* Allow me to take a moment to drop the self-aggrandizing persona that’s part and parcel of our show and break character (I know; even though I was playing myself). Even with a one-man show there’s no such thing as a one-man show. Part of the joy of producing theatre is that it’s a collaborative medium that requires teamwork.
I must thank my superbly imaginative supergenius director Daniel Student who elevated our show from a mere monologue or storytelling session into a truly theatrical experience. Our show got great press but rarely is the director mentioned in the chaotic coverage of a fringe festival. So, many thanks to Dan for reading my mind, for bringing our show to life while staying true to my vision for the show, and for helping me stay true to its themes.
Then there’s Randy Dalton, the sculptor behind the Blue Grotto, a lost gem in Philly’s visual art scene into which I was thrilled to help breathe new life. The Grotto is Randy’s baby but he was extremely welcoming and accommodating, letting us remove or relocate certain objects to improve sightlines, letting us come and go as we pleased at all hours, letting me summon the dead and offer them a new place to live, and even letting us replace some of his cherished blue bulbs with white ones to add a high contrast, flashlight-under-the-face, campfire ghost story mood when I stepped into certain areas.
Also I must thank CEC Executive Director Terri Shockley and Building Manager Scott Maits for their assistance, flexibility and curiosity about our show.
And I must thank Shiva3 Productions and Iggy Rocketboy, a fellow newcomer (even newer than me) to Philly. This phantasmal young man’s unorthodox approach to publicity and marketing put us in the limelight — no easy feat when competing against literally dozens of other fringe shows on any given night. The Rep Radio interview, the coverage by philly2philly.com, the City Paper, the Daily Pennsylvanian (who named us one of their 5 Must See shows, I might add) and the Philly Daily News all happened largely due to iRock’s quirky machinations and tendency to write his own playbook as went along (how many plays have a jingle?), delighting in breaking nearly every rule of what passes for professional theatrical PR. It was also Iggy’s idea to give every audience member two free gifts; a ouija board homemade by Jeff and a copy of one of Jack Chick’s fundamentalist Christian comic book tracts, Bewitched? because of its thematic relevance to the show.
I am deeply indebted and grateful also to my arts-loving, beautiful, rocket scientist superwife Pia whose patience and willingness to let me disappear night after night to rehearse and to perform a dark, diabolical (some would say profane) show, her willingness even to curtail our summer vacation plans so I could make martinis and play with ouija boards, and her eagerness to sit in on dress rehearsals and offer feedback, went stratospherically above and beyond the call of spousal duty.
Jeffrey Stanley in Beautiful Zion: A Book of the Dead. Photos by Steve Kelly.
Egypt and Israel Dominate Talks
The closing night show was so overwhelming it’s taken me an extra day to calm down enough to write about the Ouija session with some clarity. After 7 evenings of supernatural dissatisfaction for me personally during the brief run of the show and having to close every evening using the nuclear option I was about ready to give up on the spirit world as being able to reach out directly to anyone.
Enter M.
M. was an eager audience member in the final show who joined in with audience volunteer S. to person the Ouija board. They were escorted away and left alone for awhile as usual to try their hands at the board, reaching out to the netherworld in the Hell Room before I returned with the rest of the audience to rejoin them and see if they’d tuned into anything. Here is the main highlight that left us all haunted, especially M:
QUESTIONER (M) (to Jeff): I’m really freaked out right now. I have goose bumps and my hair’s standing on end.
JEFF: That’s normal when you’ve brought someone into the room. Something’s here with us. Do you want to quit?
M: No. I’m just letting you know that I’m freaked. My hands are shaking, I’m afraid I’ll mess up with the planchette.
JEFF: Why don’t you stop? I can take your place.
The power of theatre commands demons up from Hell and Angels down from Zion.
M: No, I want to keep going.
JEFF (to Ouija board): What’s your name?
SPIRIT (or subconscious ideomotor impulse depending on your beliefs): KHEF
JEFF: Khef? I bet that turns out to be Arabic or Hindi (why I thought so). I’ve seen a lot this week so let’s assume it’s a real language and not gibberish. Are you Khef?
SPIRIT: NO
JEFF: Oh. Well, do you know what’s taped to the back of the grave photo?
SPIRIT: NO
M: Do you know anyone here?
SPIRIT: YES
M: Who?
SPIRIT: M—- (spelling out M’s name)
M: Oh wow. Do you want to tell me something?
Stanley seated before the everyouija.
At that the planchette shot down at breakneck speed to GOODBYE and refused to budge for anyone. Game over. We ended the session and all returned to the Blue Grotto and I wrapped up the show as usual, using the nuclear option — a personal disappointment for me but a fun way to end a show about Ouija boards.
Afterward M. stuck around as I began to strike the set for the last time, eager to talk to me at length about her first mind-blowing experience on a Ouija board this evening. She needed to unburden herself; I’ve been there, I know what that’s like so I stopped my work and listened. She was highly unsettled. She explained to me that she’s Jewish and said that in the Jewish tradition it’s strictly forbidden to contact the dead. I asked why she did it and — bless her heart — she said she did it to help me find the closure that I need. That was selfless of her but I hated that the experience had left her freaked out. In the end it’s only a show and not worth the trauma.
She said she has immediate ancestors who died tortuous deaths in the Holocaust and that she’d always been afraid to think about how they’d perished. Facing their cruel fate is her worst nightmare, and the thought of hearing directly from them about how they suffered has always been more than she could bear.
“Maybe it appeared to let you know they’re there, but went to Goodbye so quickly to avoid having to tell you what it knows you don’t want to hear, ” I suggested, “to spare you the pain.”
M: That’s exactly what it did. That’s what I’m telling you.
Then I get home and find out that KHEF isn’t Arabic, Hindi or even Urdu. It’s Egyptian. It’s the name of an ancient Egyptian hieroglyph that means “to be laid waste or destroyed.” A reference to the Holocaust in our case? And this hieroglyph appears on the Israel Stele of all things, so-called by archaeologists because it’s the only ancient Egyptian document mentioning Israel by name. And if you don’t know, a stele is a monument to the dead… Yeah. You tell me.
WORST OUIJA CHAT EVER. Very little action last night. I’m not even going to bother alerting my press list on this one, especially not SR at The Daily Pennsylvanian despite her colleagues’ apparent love for my show, for which we are grateful. The only highlight if you want to call it that was —
JEFF: Do you know what’s taped to the back of the grave photo?
SPIRIT: YES
JEFF: What is it?
SPIRIT: HABIB
JEFF: Um, no. There is not a “habib” taped to the back of the photo (boy was I wrong; see below). Is Habib your name?
SPIRIT: NO
...American culture en route to Mars.
Mind you I’m not touching the board during these conversations. It’s always being operated by two audience volunteers other than at a few brief times between chats when I get on the board to warm it up, if you will. I know of course that Habib is an Arabic male name but I looked up its actual meaning and it’s “beloved” or “loved one” which in that case makes it similar to the 9/10 transcript when DAVID told us that HOME was taped to the back and it put a lump in my throat.
Had I known last night that a habib was a loved one and that the board was again speaking to me in Arabic I’d have been a little less dismissive. This would mark the 4th time out of 7 sessions that a directly Islamic or at least South Asian presence has been on the board — there was also the 9/14 session when it kept telling us NAMAZ, NAMAZ (pray, pray in Arabic), then there was the South Asian 5-year-old girl named MALA on 9/15 and SHALEE on 9/8.
All fascinating but surprising because given our geographical locus I was expecting a lot of old Philadelphia Quakers with names like Rachel or Zebulon or Nehemiah or at least some Johns or Williams or Marys. Yes there was David but he died in 1976 and lives in LA so he doesn’t count.
Lesson learned: never make assumptions about the spirit world/human subconscious.
Only 1 show left and it’s tonight and it’s the final Paranormal Psaturday – the first three ticket holders to show me a convincing photograph or smartphone video clip of authentic-looking paranormal activity in their homes will be given a $10.00 Starbucks gift certificate. Full details and ticket info.
