“nor do i demand aught of sacrifice/ for i am the mother of all things, and my love is poured out upon the earth” - doreen valiente, 1953(?)
Hey Hartlist,
Had a good time with you on Sunday for Chrysalis 49: FIRE FESTIVAL, the May Day/Beltane show, which you can catch up on here. (Songs by blue oyster cult, woody guthrie/billy bragg, 17th century smartass Tom d’Urfey, and ME.) It was a bit of a walk down memory lane as I resurrected one of my first band’s most joyful springtime rock songs from way back when, and read a bit from the prologue to the book (?) I seem to be writing, about the Tarot and How I Do it and Why. I read a passage about my early days of reading cards ‘professionally’, which happen to coincide with my early days of fronting a band. It’s a bittersweet mix of memories: I remember my young rocker/magician self both as someone on fire with confidence and pride in her voice AND as someone unfortunately hobbled by low self-esteem, constantly giving away her power and making poor choices. I am happy to share her with you, though, in the way that I’ve always been happy to share with you both what gives me joy and what hurts… in music, in text, onstage, however, wherever. I’m thinking about taking a bit of a break after #50 and maybe trying out a new form/schedule for The Chrysalis as the world begins to, well, open. I want to say thank you to everyone who’s been listening, and who’s ever come to listen to me over the years.
This Sunday 4PM EDT May 9: THE CHRYSALIS 50: THE MOTHER OF ALL THINGS (the mother’s day show), on FB and YT, posted later to IG.
ALSO I WILL SEE SOME OF YOU SATURDAY NIGHT for a small *live* gig at the Kraine. Also the band has its FIRST REHEARSAL TONIGHT, keep an eye out for gigs, definitely something on JUNE 8 in NYC. Also, speaking of motherhood, my opera ‘the barren(s)’ will be available to stream live on the Kennedy Center website JUNE 1.
The tone of this newsletter might be coming over all emotional (for more of this, see HIGH DRAMA from two weeks ago), and that’s because I just listened to this episode of This American Life called “Mind Games” that really knocked me flat in a way that I don’t entirely understand. The gist was: a wacky oh so hilarious “theatre” company called Improv Everywhere stages immersive and unexpected ‘events’ and scenes in public places for unwitting audiences (who are also sometimes unconsenting characters). Now, I am a sensitive introvert and I hate the very idea of pranks with a passion, but in particular this one stunt they pulled called “Best Gig Ever” where they looked up a new and unknown rock band, memorized their demos, went to their show, and pretended to be rabid fans. Of course, later, the band found out, because the company posted their “great event” to their website, and was not only humiliated but the target of abusive ridicule online. Friends: my heart hurt so bitterly listening to this that I actually went straight to instagram and posted what I believe the kids call a “rant”.
It is so hard (or can be) to be a band (or a musician, or an actor). It’s not that other things aren’t hard, but this is something I know about. Mostly our culture both idealizes/envies and mocks/abuses the F out of artists, and definitely anyone who’s so “ridiculous” as to think they can play rock and roll. All we want as young (and old) artists is to feel heard and appreciated (and yeah, be paid for our work, which is a different post (but also not). ALL we want as a band - particularly at the start - is a room full of cheering people who know our songs. But we want it for real, and for what it actually means. This may be corny but it is true. Rock (and rock-adjacent) musicians are not (always) stupid narcissists. Please do not fuck with us. Please especially do not fuck with our young.
ok. Well that part obviously isn’t to YOU, oh subscriber. This is honestly my way of saying thank you for every bit of sincere appreciation you have given me & my collaborators. Let’s keep doing it.
Also: pranks are not theatre, theatre involves consent, k bye.
love,
a band/an actor/a person/me