Monday, September 21, 2009

On the Hot Seat: The Pirate Guys

Back in 1994, while working on a show at Albany Civic Theatre, I met a couple of part-time pirates who would frequently slip into a swaggering piratey vernacular (basically saying “Arrr” a lot and calling each other “bilge rats.”) Years later, while flipping through Maxim magazine, whom should I see but those two scallywags staring back at me. Turns out, they’re still talking like pirates; only now, they have everyone else doing it too.

In fact, they’ve managed to turn it into an international holiday (talklikeapirate.com). They have official titles now too—Ol’ Chumbucket and Cap’n Slappy (on the right), otherwise known as John Baur and Mark Summers, respectively. In 2002, they released their first book, Pirattitude, and last year Ol’ Chumbucket and his wife Mad Sally, a.k.a. Tori Baur, appeared on the ABC show Wife Swap. The resounding success of Pirattitude was followed by two more books, A Li'l Pirate's ABSeas and The Pirates Life, the latter of which was released in 2008. With the advent of the Portland Pirate Festival—an event that brought a Guinness World Record-breaking number of would-be pirates to St. Johns Cathedral Park in 2009—it doesn’t look like their swashbuckling days will end anytime soon.

I spoke with them via email just before Ol' Chumbucket was about to pull up anchor and move his family to the Caribbean (seriously!).

HM: By golly heck, there sure are a lot of pirates these days. What’s the deal?
Cap’n: Playing pirate in these modern times allows a person to put his or her foot up on a rum barrel and show some bravado while keeping the other foot firmly planted in the pig poo of self-deprecation. It’s nerd-cool. It’s kind of like saying, “Yes, I am a dangerous person, but my sword is plastic!”
HM: I remember when this “talk like a pirate” thing was just a bunch of guys saying “Arr” all day. How’d it get so big?
Cap’n: We have to credit our close personal friend, Pulitzer Prize winner Dave Barry, for being the big gust of wind that took us to far-flung seas! His original article led to our starting talklikeapirate.com and the shenanigans that went with it! Now we have a book, Pirattitute, that is selling well all over and we hope to have anywhere from one to four new books out by next International Talk Like a Pirate Day!
HM: Do you ever get tired of being a pirate?
Chum: That’s like asking if I get tired of breathing.
HM: Pirates are supposed to have a nasty streak, but you seem like awfully nice guys. Are you sure you’re not secretly just sweet-natured sailors?
Cap’n: I can’t speak for Ol’ Chumbucket, but those who know me well know that I’m a nasty, ruthless horrible man who frightens children and small animals with nothing more than my startling man odor and expressive eyebrow movements.
HM: What exactly is “pirattitude”?
Cap’n: Pirattitude is simply the attitude of a pirate. Anyone can have it—even those prone to sea-sickness on their porch during a slight breeze. It’s a glint in the eye, a swagger in the step and a willingness to redefine all of your scars as “battle wounds.”
HM: Who’s got more pirattitude? Obama or Hillary?
Chum: Hillary. Doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll vote for her, but she definitely has more pirattitude.
HM: Spiderman or Batman?
Chum: Spidey.
Cap’n: Batman—it’s the black!
Chum: Are you insane? Batman has more pirattitude than Spidey??!? No freakin’ way, man! Batman’s all brooding and has this boring inner monologue going, moping about his dead parents. He’s got a damn valet who knows all his deepest inner feelings!! Pirates don’t have deep inner feelings. They have victims! A pirate wouldn’t brood—he’d act out! That’s Spidey all up and down. All sass and web slinging. If he were back in the 18th century, Batman would be a lord or earl or some damn thing, and if he went to sea he’d be an admiral sure as hell. Spidey’s got the whole “friggin’ in the riggin’” thing down. He’d be the pirate, that’s for sure. As for it being “the black,” that just proves my point. Who wears somber, muted clothes when he can sport a loud, colorful, boisterous wardrobe? Stuffy nobelmen. Pirates go for the color. Black clothes? Please, that’s for clergymen, not pirates. Sorry man, but I just can’t agree with you on this one.
HM: Geez, now I want a pirate name. Will you give me one?
Cap’n: I think “Constance Slashington the Terror o’ Tortuga!” suits you!
Chum: Mad McCollum. Yes, I know your last name has no U in it, and has two Os. What part of pirate didn’t you understand?

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Things I Have Learned While Writing a Book

1. Having “all day” to work on writing means you have about 2 good solid hours.

2. The cable bill will come due on your deadline and you won’t be able to pay it because you went out drinking last night.

3. There IS such a thing as too much ccafffeinne.

4. It takes you three times as long to write about a person, subject or thing that you actually care about.

5. Doubt is your biggest enemy. The minute you think you aren’t up to the task; you aren’t. Vodka won’t change that. Sex won’t change it either.

6. No one will be as excited about your goal as you.

7. The concept of “the muse” as most writers use it confuses and irritates me. “The muse is an angel” “The muse is a parasite.” “The muse is a whore.” “The muse is a fickle friend.” I think we need to maintain a safe distance from that so-called entity that inspires us to write. What do we do if the muse doesn't show up? Our job as writers is to show up and write. Sometimes, we write brilliantly, sometimes (often) we don’t. The more we grow anxious about engaging the muse or “allowing” her into our lives, the less capable we are of simply showing up.

8. On that same note: If you think about the whole book or even a whole chapter, you will freak the hell out. That thing that E.L.Doctorow, the author of the book/play Ragtime said holds true, “Writing a book is like driving at night. You can only see as far as the headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” (Probably misquoted, but the general idea is there.)

9. Remember how everyone said they would help you? Edit when ever you want? Take you out for cocktails? Get photos for you? Yeah. They didn’t mean it. Don’t take it personally, they are busy, too. (See rule #6.)

10. Every now and then, you have to interact with real humans. In my case, I am actually writing about what real humans would presumably want to do, so it makes sense that I would understand what people might be interested in. But when I find myself sharing how excited I get about closing all my browser windows at the end of each task (seriously, so gratifying!) and look up to find everyone staring blankly back at me, I know it is time to turn off the computer and talk to someone who doesn’t limit me by 140 characters.

11. I am apparently a perfectionist. But I’ll elaborate more on that later. I don’t have enough time/head space right now to express everything I want to say on it right now. (Which, as I re-read this, is probably a testament to the fact, sheesh.)

12. Your editor is there for a reason. Don’t expect to be perfect. Try to spell correctly. Use the Oxford comma with grace and skill, but don’t spend an entire day looking up 14 alternatives to the word “good,” only to freak out and spend another day reading People magazine instead of writing because you are afraid you are a boring and amateurish writer who should never have gotten the job in the first place.

13. I’ll say it again. Your editor is there for a reason (and not because you are boring and amateurish. Stop it. Just stop it.) Your editor is there to make you better. When your editor does correct you, don’t beat yourself up for not thinking of it first. Embrace it.

14. Don’t make plans on the day of a deadline in hopes that you will be inspired to stay focused. Mistakes will be made.

15. Don’t forget why you’re doing it.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Time Management

It's been weeks now since I was given the task of announcing that PDX Magazine was folding. As I suspected, we didn't go out with a bang. It wasn't really a whisper either, more like a soft, unintentional fart.
But frankly, I am pleased with the way things ended. For a while I was worried that all our work would have been for naught. I was sad to see it end, but I think the timing was right.
We had our ups and downs over the years, sure. There were times when we weren't certain what to expect from the business side of things. But my colleagues and I stuck with it until the end because of a number of reasons:
1. We believed in the product. There were some that complained about the fact that we never wrote "anything negative." This is not because we were ruled by advertising, but because we had made a choice to only cover the places we liked. We billed ourselves as the "Where to go, what to do magazine" not the "what not to do" magazine. Plus, we figured the Willamette Week and The Mercury had that whole snarky thing down pat.
2. We felt that we had finally begun to separate ourselves from the others (The Mercury, Willamette Week, Portland Monthly, etc).
3. We (myself and my art director) had the distinct pleasure of having nearly-complete creative control.
4. We were getting paid. Sure, we were working long hours and wearing many, many hats, but we got paychecks (almost always before sundown on payday).
5. We love Portland. This city is so vibrant and enthusiastic. Writing about it for the last 3 and a half years was not only easy, it was fun.

On a more personal level, I am taking this opportunity to focus on finishing the Moon Travel Guide for the city of Portland. (The completed book is due in August.) I had set my mind on the fact that I would be able to soar through the rest of the chapters with ease now that my schedule had opened up, but that hasn't exactly been the case. Budgeting my time has been a challenge and some things have gotten in the way of my productivity.

This week, I am trying a new tactic. I get up early, make coffee, take a shower and "commute" back upstairs where I proceed to work on writing for at least 2 hours before I allow myself to get distracted or consumed by anything else. It's going well today, but hey, if any of you have tips for being more productive while working from home, I would welcome them!

Monday, June 15, 2009

Thanks for the memories, PDX!

It is with a heavy heart that I announce the end of PDX Magazine. Since October of 2005, we've had the pleasure of writing about one of the greatest cities in the world; and we consider it a privilege to have shared some of our favorite elements of it with you.

Our operation has always been quite small (usually a core group of 4-5 people assembling content/writing/editing/designing), and of late that has been to our benefit. When things got tough, we got creative. We buckled down. We worked harder and longer and we made sacrifices wherever we could. Sadly, the challenges of creating a high-quality print publication every month outweigh the practicalities of sustaining it any longer.

Thank you for your readership and support throughout these past years. It has been a rough-and-tumble, but glorious ride.

-Hollyanna McCollom
Editor-in-Chief

Sunday, May 10, 2009

On the Hot Seat: Storm Large and Sam Adams

They are both known for their vibrant personalities and strong presence in the community, but what do a local rock star and a city mayor have in common? Well, for one thing, they are both dynamic, passionate people who are fiercely in love with Portland; for another, they are both working hard to repair the damaged arts education programs in our schools and to make the city an energetic place for artists (and art lovers) to not only grow, but thrive.


HM: So Sam, you had a chance to see Storm’s show. What did you think?
SA: I thought it was fantastic. I thought it was a roller coaster ride…equal parts raw vulnerability combined with huge talent, incredibly compelling entertainment.
SL: (blushing) Thank you.
SA: It’s gutsy, you know. As someone else in the public eye, [I know] it’s gutsy to get up there and say a) “Look at me,” and b) “Look at my nasty, dark, difficult days.” For you to be so up front about it, but to do it in a way that is so genuine, while never asking for redemption nor trying to glamorize it. You were really good about talking about it and sharing what you learned from it in the least preachy way I’ve seen in my life. Whatever the opposite of preachy is, that’s what Storm did.
HM: Do you think it’s important for her to build a show like that here in Portland? How does it play into the fabric of the arts community?
SA: Well, I think that it’s important in terms of inspiring other artists to do authentic work that stretches the bounds of what is commercial. If you bring a Broadway show to Portland, on the road you are going to sell out. If you create a show here and you do it on your own terms; that’s harder. It’s hard anywhere, but I think it is harder here. To do it with the production values available and to exceed what people will see anywhere else in the United States is hard. You know, Storm doesn’t like to talk about it, but Storm works her ass off to make a living at it, in a city where it’s difficult for an artist to make a full time wage.
HM: That’s a good point. Storm, why do you choose to make your life and your living here?
SL: Because I used to live in San Francisco when I started my music career and I toured the country many times, and every time I came to Portland, I felt like I could breathe a little better. Something about it just called to me. I loved it. I loved the people I would encounter here. And unlike California, which is known for its famous artists and its glamor and glitz…and San Francisco is a physically stunning city, but it wasn’t very supportive of its artists. And that’s kind of where I started to get involved with politics because [Willie] Brown was mayor and Gavin Newsom was councilman when the building commissioners changed the zoning–¬unbeknownst to the voters¬¬–in this corridor on South of Market which housed a lot of rock clubs…changed it from light industrial to mixed use. So all of a sudden there are these million dollar lofts springing up on top of nightclubs and they are calling the police every time I would play or whenever any band would turn up the volume past a certain decibel. So, the clubs were getting closed down, even though they had been there and established forever. So, I went to city hall with Gavin Newsom and a bunch of other artists, bartenders and bar backs and said, “What are you doing? You are destroying what makes San Francisco kind of cool.” But they were making so much money on real estate–this was during the dot com boom–that they wouldn’t even listen to us. Joe Donahue screamed in my face that what I was doing was not work. He said, “That’s not work that you do. You’re just partying.” And I said, “Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be a musician and to try and make a living at it?” He said, “You’re trying to take food out of my kids’ mouths!” And I said, “I have no idea what you are talking about, but you look like you are doing okay. I had to walk here.”
So San Francisco kind of turned its back on its artists. I don’t know if it’s any different now because I have been living in Portland for seven years. But one thing that struck me about Portland was First Thursdays. A huge, city-wide celebration of its creative population just staggered me. I couldn’t believe it. I said, “This must be some kind of ‘Art Day’” Oh, no they do that every month. Every month?!?
When I started playing here, people from other bands would come and they would tell me they thought I was great, and I was like, “Are you kidding?” It was such a competitive scene in San Francisco. Here it just seemed like DJs, rappers, cover bands, fire eaters, strippers, we all support eachother’s business and get inspired by eachother’s business. I mean, there is healthy competition here, but there is room for everybody and Portland understands as an entity what makes it so wonderful to live here: Its natural beauty, its emphasis on small business, independent thinking and creative culture. I can’t imagine living anywhere else in the United States. I have been all over this country and most of the parts of the world and, seriously, I have never felt more at home anywhere. I’m a big, bad freak-a-zoid and I belong here.
SA: Amen.
HM: It seems like we seem to get it within the community as far as the theatre people tend to understand that “theatre begets theatre.” I assume it is the same in the music industry and in visual arts. We understand that art begets art, but do you feel the general citizenry sees and understands what’s going on?
SA: Well, over the last three years, we’ve done a lot of public opinion research about these issues. What the research shows is that folks in the Portland region prioritize arts and culture as a key attribute to the reasons that they live here. But they are really unaware of how it works financially. You know, they go to events, the ticket sales are great, so things seem good, despite the fact that ticket sales are but a small percentage for any arts and culture organization here in Portland as far as their financial sustainability. So, they embrace it and they especially value arts education which we have cut the heart out of–
SL: It’s awful.
SA: It is. And we have been working on the creative capacity for art, which we will roll out this week. We’ll have a town hall meeting here on Monday [April 13]. So, we have done our homework to figure out how we can manifest that big, overwhelming support for arts and culture into more public funding for arts and culture. We have per capita–we fund about half as much as Seattle? In Seattle it’s about $7.52 per person that they contribute to the arts every year and here it is $2.47 and if you go back and forth between the venues that are based out of Seattle and based out of Portland, you know, we rock! We’re just not providing enough funding to sustain it.
HM: So, Storm, how could it be different for you as an artist trying to create new work? What would you need? Financial support? More programs?
SL: For me, I am in a very fortunate position because I have established myself fairly well. So, for a show like this [Crazy Enough], the amount of money it takes to put a show on is a large percentage of what anyone is going to end up making. However, I live very simply. I am not rich at all. I do all right. I live well. I sell records. I do shows and I can make enough money to survive. So, it’s not so much for me, but I think it’s really important for music education, definitely. I don’t think I could name the statistics…of what a difference it makes in kids’ lives in terms of learning and emphasizing their creative selves instead of just being a freaking number.
SA: And if I could interject, empirical analysis shows that for elementary students, when as part of the curriculum they have culture, music, visual arts, performing arts, they do better in all other subjects as well. It is one of the best ways…I mean, it gets the creative, critical thinking parts of them–
SL: Both sides of the brain start juicing up…in their sweet, young, curly, delicious brains. [laughs] So, I think for arts education, it’s dire, because our schools have suffered so, so much over the last few years. And I think it’s important for developing venues and other artists who have a lot to say but can’t make ends meet. But I think it is also important to educate people who are not artists, those who appreciate and patronage the arts. It’s good to educate them. You know people might come to see the show and think, “Oh she’s a rock star. She must have tons of money and live in a mansion with lines of cocaine on the table.” I think it would be interesting to have people understand what it takes financially to put on a show that costs 20 bucks to get into. It’s a lot of work on behalf of a lot of people and those people need to get paid.
HM: Do you think the city understands the costs?
SL: No, I don’t think so. I’m not saying that it’s ignorance or that people don’t care. People may not be interested, but they may be interested to know that it isn’t just a situation where these creative show up and then people pay money to see them. There is a whole network and community of people behind the scenes. There are jobs–tons and tons of jobs–that we are losing because of the current financial situation. All these jobs that it takes to put on these shows that give the city so much juice. Those people, the techs, the electricians, the light people, the sound people, ticket sales…the box office people are the liaison between the theatre and the community. Those are very valuable jobs that we are losing and that’s all arts funding as well.
SA: And in this day and age, a city has to be highly innovative to compete and grow and its people have to be the most innovative to succeed in this new global reality. You know, Portland, we don’t want to be the biggest; we just want to be the best. Portland cannot be an innovative city if it does not have a robust creative capacity. We can’t have a robust creative capacity if the public funding for the arts is a third of what it is in Seattle. We will decline. It’s as simple as that.
HM: Do you think that Portland has a distinctive flavor when it comes to the arts scene here?
SL: I kind of do. I think we’re more DIY than anywhere that I have ever been. We’re scrappier. We are more resourceful. We’re scrappier, more resourceful, more innovative and there’s just more of it. There are more creative people here…in the food industry, in the writing community, in the print industry, in painting and dance and theatre and music. All walks of life here seem to be touched by a creative hand. And, God, it’s awesome!
HM: Well, we’ve been getting a lot of attention in the national media, the New York Times, etc. They seem to love us–
SL: Yeah, but they called us sad, didn’t they? Didn’t they say were the saddest little city? And recently said that we were evocative of what was wrong with the economy, and yet our median house prices compared to New York’s have stayed fairly regular and New York’s have gone [blows raspberry]. You know, we’re just as touched by the economic crisis as anyone else.
HM: Is there some merit to drawing attention to the kind of art we have here as far as getting national attention? Is there hope in that?
SA: I agree, well my view of the arts community here in Portland is similar to Storm’s in that Portland seems to be a place where it’s not only do-it-yourself, it’s also “be yourself.” We’re not a movement of any particular theme, but we are an open artistic community in terms of bringing your own ideas. There’s a pretty open field in which to make a go of it. From a marketing point of view, in terms of the output, that’s kind of hard, other than the fact that Portland is a place where you can get interesting, fresh take on things from a creative perspective. Another thing that I would add as far as what we need to do with our public funding is because we are a relatively small city in a relatively small region, for our artists to succeed, we need to promote them worldwide. There are cities in the world, like Melbourne, that do a really good job, not only with their visual artists, but with their performing artists as well. Their arts and culture community is a traded sector, meaning that they know that they are a relatively small community as well, so they make sure that their artists have the opportunity to go to some kind of performance gathering, they make sure that they are there to help the performers get out there–
SL: That’s why Sam’s going to drive me to New York.
SA: Got the car gassed up right now.
SL: I’ve got snacks!
SA: Ooh, Cheetos!
HM: Is that something we see a lot, where artists will build something here, create something and have a tremendous amount of success in this community and then feel the need to move on?
SA: I’ll let her answer that from the artistic point of view, but in my opinion, I want to help them export that and keep them here, keep them based here. But just like we underwrite the cost and provide subsidies to a lot of other economic endeavors within this city and state, we need to do the same thing for artists. Because if Storm takes her show on the road, she is still based here. Eventually, the money flows back here. Hopefully, she will get a chance to take her show on the road and it will promote Portland as well. People will think, “Wow! This really cool show was conceived of in Portland.”
SL: And that’s the hope. You know, when I went to L.A. to do the TV show [Rockstar: Supernova], I was living there for about a year and I had an apartment there, but I never had any intentions to relocate. You know, I am a touring musician. I have been touring for almost 20 years and travel is part of your economic reality, but I don’t have any plans to relocate permanently. I would take this show to New York or to Chicago, because you go where the money is, but then you always come home. You always come home. That’s why I live here. I can travel, but there’s no place like home.
HM: Well, Sam, what can we as a community be doing to help people like Storm continue to grow artistically?
SA: It isn’t all about money, but it’s a lot about money. Folks like to get together in the creative community and say, “Oh, if we only had more affordable performance space and if we only had more affordable places to live where we could practice our craft…if I only had health insurance–
SL: Oh, yeah, that’s a big one!
SA: These are all good, basic things and they all lead back to money. So, it isn’t all about money, but it’s my job as a lover of the arts and as mayor of this city who thinks that we need to be a very innovative place to succeed. It’s a very good investment. [If we have] more public investment in culture, we will get dividends back from it that far exceed whatever increased investments we make. It will come back to us in terms of creating a better place to live, in terms of being a smarter, more innovative community. It will come back to us in terms of more prosperity.
HM: What can the typical “starving artist” do to contribute to that?
SA: Well, asking a starving artist to contribute money is tough, but asking them to contribute their time…there is no excuse. Everyone can carve out one day a year, two days a year, maybe four hours twice a year to do the kind of advocacy that is necessary. The Arts Can is an advocacy network that we have started. It’s initial focus was to make sure that the city council does not cut back on the funding that we have been able to achieve over the last few years. It holds the line, no cuts. It’s not a lot of money and any cuts would be devastating. So that network is getting involved for the first time ever–and Storm was there and Jennifer Yocum, our Director of Arts and Culture for the city of Portland–and we are working together to organize the community. Part of the responsibility locally, part of the reason that funding for the arts is so anemic is that the arts and culture community has been really poorly organized and has not delivered the kind of advocacy that other causes in the community have. We can’t afford that kind of advocacy. Over the next few years, we are going to be going to the ballot to get funding for the arts and we are going to try to break the top ten per capita. Not for the privilege to pound our chests and say, “this is good” but because that’s what we need to be a successful city.
SL: Are we allowed to talk about the tax thing?
SA: …Yeah, you can talk about that. Oh, this is bullshit. The thing she’s about to talk about...the problem is bullshit.
SL: Well, I am very fortunate because I make a decent living doing what I love to do here in Portland. So, I have no problem volunteering my time as a singer, as an entity, as a celebrity, as a host, or whatever. I did the math and I probably donated about 100 hours last year and raised $80,000 for a bunch of different charities. I probably grossed about $17,000 for myself. Now, my taxes are going to be fine, but I cannot write off my volunteerism as an artist. You know, I tried to write off my breast implants, but that didn’t go so well either.
SA: You mean they’re not real?
SL: They are now!
SA: Now I’m blushing.
SL: No, but I think volunteering, advocacy and artists feeling like their time is worth something other than what they get for a painting or what they get for singing a song, I think it would improve the city’s creative self-esteem, because coming up as an artist, I felt that in America, unless you were a rock star or super famous, you were kind of a bum. “Oh, you’re a singer? Great, but what’s your job? What do you do, really?” It’s like saying that art isn’t important. So, I think that if there were some kind of tax incentive, you could write off your time, call it eight dollars an hour even, just the minimum, you know, minimum wage. There would be a larger number of people advocating themselves as artists and having a little more pride in being a creative person as a career, as a valuable member of this community.
SA: So, it’s like, Exxon gets to write off a donation to the Guggenheim on their taxes, but Storm Large–I was at an event where she donated a painting for a worthy cause–
SL: The Children’s Cancer Network.
SA: So she donates this painting to a nonprofit organization trying to fight cancer in children and she can’t write that off. Why would a big oil company get to write that off when Storm Large can’t? We are advocating on a federal level for a change in the tax code to allow artists to write off the donations they make.
SL: That painting took three or four days, and it’s awesome!
SA: It is awesome.
SL: Are you going to buy it.
SA: Um, yes. It it’s the right price. It’s a live auction and I usually get priced out of after the third bid.
SL: Because he’s cheap!
SA: No, no, it’s because Storm Large is expensive!
HM: Do you think Portland is in a place to be a leader nationally when it comes to advocating for the arts?
SA: Yes. That’s the venue, the platform, the pulpit that I had with the U.S. conference of mayors within the national league of cities where we have already begun to promote these issues on the federal level, I got on the agenda that we needed to change the federal tax code and that is a relatively simple and inexpensive thing that the federal government can do to help artists.
SL: And it would result in increased revenue for the city. If people had better incentive, you know, if they are saving more, they will spend more. It builds revenue.
HM: Do you both see Portland as becoming a destination spot for the arts?
SL: It already is. Well, it already is for creative people and if we can back that up with the financial realities that we are talking about it’s just going to kick some ass.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Crazy Enough: Storm Large takes PCS by...well...storm

Last week at Portland Center Stage, things were a bit bittersweet. Just as news leaked out that they had “let go” their entire literary department (including Literary Manager Mead Hunter), Storm Large’s one-woman autobiographical show Crazy Enough was finally premiering in the Ellen Bye Studio. And while many within the Portland theatre scene were worried, angry or frustrated about the former, the latter was an occasion that left many of us feeling like Christmas had come early.
After months of workshops, re-writes and rehearsals, Large took the stage Friday night in a surprisingly stripped-down fashion. No booming announcement, no dress-cut-down-to-there, no drum roll. Just Storm.
Those of us who have watched Large rise from a cult star in the Portland clubs to a household name on reality TV’s Rockstar: Supernova know that she is a consummate entertainer. She’s brassy, sexy, and funny and oh yeah, the girl’s got pipes. The funny thing is, whether she’s playing to a packed house at Dante’s or to a sea of fans standing shoulder to shoulder in a warehouse, she somehow makes you feel as if she is sitting in your lap, tickling your ear with her breath. She’s engaging, yes, but it’s more than just that. Storm is like the opening riff of “Foxy Lady.” She’s the burlesque piano line in David Bowie’s “Time.” She is the bassline in “Come As You Are.” When she’s on the mic, she is everything you want her to be: Vulnerable, flirtatious and unabashed. It’s just that most of us never questioned why.
Crazy Enough is an impressive, funny and sad glimpse into the life that made Large so much larger than life. The songs that are sprinkled throughout the two-act show (co-written by Large and The Balls band member James Beaton) are delivered with the chanteuse’s signature panache. Some of them are bawdy, rock-heavy nods to her career of late; some of them are so heartbreakingly tender, you forget that she’s known for the hits “What The F*ck is Ladylike?” and “Where is My Mind?”.
Much of the show focuses on Large’s troubled relationship with her mentally ill mother, like the moment when she recalls her five-year-old fear of having a caused a relapse in her mother’s psychiatric health by being “too loud,” and makes a pact to be as silent as possible. Always more of a shrieking violet than a shrinking one, Large was a kid who probably thrived on noise and kinetic energy. So, your heart breaks when she then recalls driving her mother to tears and sobs of, “Stormy hates me!” because instead of greeting her with the usual flurry of screams and excitement, she twitches quietly in the corner, wanting to cry out, but terrified of crashing through her mother’s tenuous moments of sanity.


Little by little, you begin to understand how little Stormy grew into what she is today. She is never maudlin as she explains how pain, heartache and fear were pushed aside for sex, drugs, gallows humor and (eventually) rock and roll. The show never feels heavy handed or preachy, despite the fact that the message of survival is clear.
In one of the songs most popular (and infectious) songs, “8 Miles Wide,” she sings, “I am enormous. Get used to it. Everyone tells me I’m too much. Maybe its just you’re not enough.”
Large has knocked it out of the park here, finally crushing any post-TV whispers of her being just a flash-in-the-pan. With all the bawdiness, talent and charisma of a young Bette Midler and a personality that is both unapologetic and endearing, Large proves that she is destined to be one of the most electrifying performers of her time.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Red Alert: Portland's Biggest Bash Heats Up Once Again

If you are new to Portland (or have perhaps been living under a rock) you may not know about the annual Red Dress Party, an event that is arguably one of the most fun (and well-attended) fundraisers in town. Call it a rave (it’s not); call it a block party (that’s closer), or call it “My Big Fat Gay Prom,” Red Dress is the event where Portlanders of all walks kick up their pretty red heels and party all night long in support of local charities.
Last year’s bash saw nearly 2,000 revelers and raised $35,000 for Esther's Pantry, SHARE and Outside In. Partygoers sipped hosted cocktails in the “Red Sea” themed warehouse while dancing and listening to a performance by Storm and the Balls. Midway through the evening, whispers skittered up through the crowd. “Chelsea Clinton is here,” screamed a pretty boy in a bright red Mad Men-style skirt suit, “Omigod! I just saw her!” “Really, darling?” sighed a sequin-speckled drag queen languishing on the couches, “Was she wearing a red dress?” Sadly, she was not.
While Red Dress is a party not to be missed, there is one very simple, but very strict rule. Everyone (and they mean everyone except Chelsea Clinton) must wear a red dress to gain admittance. Manly men who felt threatened by the idea of donning a red frock have tried in vain to wear kilts, culottes and shorts only to be turned away by the divas at the door (usually the perfectly turned out Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence).
This year, they are hoping to raise even more for charitable organizations that support gay youth and those that support the many folks living with HIV/AIDS and other serious diseases. The theme, “Red Eye,” will feature “in-flight entertainment” from Poison Waters, VJ Dantronix, DJ Harmonix, DJ Tronic, and Peach the Fire Spinner, as well as Storm and the Balls. Those lucky enough to snap up some First-Class tickets have the advantage of early admittance, premium cocktails and a performance by Tahoe Jackson.
Tickets get snapped up quickly for this event, but those red dresses go even quicker. At thrift stores, vintage shops and Goodwills across the city, shopping for a dress in the last two weeks before the party is a bit like trying to find a date at your grandmother’s church (i.e. all the good ones are taken and the ones that are left reek of cabbage and baby powder).
Fortunately, there are still a few viable options. On Wednesday, April 8, Zaytoon Bar (2235 NE Alberta Street, 284-1168) will host a Red Dress Exchange party wherein guests can bring an old frock and exchange it for something new and fabulous. On the 16th, there will be a fashion show and fundraiser entitled “Red Threads for Model Citizens” featuring many local celebs (like Sam Adams, Marc Acito and Byron Beck) strutting their stuff in red dresses from local boutiques. Tickets for the event are $75 and include drinks at the New Deal Vodka Bar, food and swag bags.
If you miss those events, you won’t want to miss bingo with the aforementioned Sisters. Every second Sunday of the month, the sisters are pulling balls for cash at the Portland Police Athletic Association Hall (618 SE Alder, portlandsisters.net). But on Sunday, April 19, they will also host a dress exchange in anticipation of the big affair. Doors open at 4pm.
If all that fails you, get creative. Embrace your inner ballerina and make a no-sew tutu. Head to Office Depot for supplies and then whip together a fabulous paper dress. Grab an old t-shirt and make a rocker-chic halter. Or, if nothing else, find a fun cotton dress or lightweight slip and discover the wonders of Rit Dye #5.
That being said, with almost a month until the event, there is still time to hit up those second hand stores. Red Light Clothing Exchange (3590 SE Hawthorne Blvd) has an entire rack of dresses pulled aside just for this shindig. Goodwill (1943 SE Sixth Avenue) and Buffalo Exchange (1036 SW Burnside) both offer a great opportunity to find that one-of-a-kind treasure; and Lord knows Portland has a plethora of great vintage stores to choose from like Magpie (520 SW 9th), Hattie’s (729 E Burnside St # 101).
One last tip: If you decide to shop vintage, do yourself a favor and measure your waist, chest and hips before going in. Those frocks are older than you, baby and chances are, the girls were built just a little bit different back then.
For more information on the Red Dress Party, go to www.reddresspdx.com.

UPDATE:
Red Threads for Model Citizens has been canceled due to low ticket sales. Boo! Make sure you don't miss the big event!