Spoletto, Day 5

Well, here I am at Day 5 in Charleston, SC, at the Piccolo Spoletto Theatre Festival. I tell you, I never thought that I would spend so much time in South Carolina. When I was in college and we would head to Florida for Spring Break, the Carolinas and Georgia were something to figuratively hold my breath through. Be still and focused on travelling. Don't stop unless you have to and soon they'll be over.

The South has always held a mythic aura of evil for me. I've attributed some of this to having grown up in Cincinnati with its emancipation/liberation heritage. Crossing the Ohio River from Kentucky meant crossing from the Land of Slavery into Freedom. There's that scene in Uncle Tom's Cabin where I think Little Eva does that, jumping from ice flow to ice flow in the winter ... not that I remember having seen any ice flows on the Ohio when growing up. Down there was a legacy of Jim Crow and up where I was was civilization, where people might not have you over for dinner or let you marry their daughters but where they weren't likely to abduct you, string you up, beat you, and then burn you alive for not knowing your place.

South Carolina in particular has resonated keenly in my imagination as it was the first to secede. There ought to be a term for this area. It's not "The Deep South" - Alabama, Mississppi, Louisiana (That certainly holds its own nefarious glow for me.) but it's different from, say, Virginia, Kentucky, and North Carolina ... at least mythically.

In actuality, Charleston, so far, is a very nice city. As I said before, it's an old city with small streets and that Southern, historic brick feel. There's new money and old money. Back in the Revolutionary days, I believe the colonies held only three cities of note: New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston. Charleston holds the first museum in America as well as the Dock Street Theatre, the first theatre. It's humid as all get out, but the people have been very pleasant. Everyone smiles and nods and says hello as you pass them on the street except for those who stare in disgust and/or horror at the lumbering, panting, sweating mass of blubber that is me, lurching my way to my next rendez-vous. ("Esmerelda! Sanctuary!") And it's not just a general "Hello" but more the African American "What's up?" "How's it going, man?" "What's up, big man?" coming from White as well as Black. Not getting much love from my Asian and Brown brothers and sisters, of which there are quite a few. (C'mon, people! Where you at? Increase the Peace, why doncha'?) The city is pretty with loads of restaurants and bars and loads of beautiful young people walking around in light summer clothing ... staring in disgust and/or horror at any lumbering, panting, sweating masses of blubber that stumble across their paths ... of which there is one ... that is ... me.

But like I said, it's pretty and happening. It's a college and tourist town in the summer. What else do you want? Saturday night, I was sitting by the fountain at Marion Square on the corner of King Street and Calhoun Street, resting my back on my way home to our lodging. It was after 2 a.m. and I just started to people watch. I must have been there for an hour (enjoying something that was auditioning to be a breeze) watching the young people bustle back and forth. Two or three in the morning on a beautiful night, palmetto trees hushing above me, and the pace never slacked. You know, it's strange. Apart from the history and legacy of pathologically cruel social and political oppression, I think I quite like the South.

Performances are going well even if audience attendance is on and off. The last two days we did matinee shows as well as evening shows. The matinees were better attended, but we still haven't filled half of our house yet (a little over 100 seats). I have both seen and performed some of my favorite No Shame pieces. It's really a treat ... for anyone not tempted to see Second City's traveling troupe ... or Baby Wants Candy ... or Savion Glover ... or Mabou Mines's production of A Doll's House with dwarves in the men's roles ... I kid you not ... or any of the scores of rehearsed, polished, "legitimate" theatre that is going on around here. It's not that I think we suck in comparison with everything else. It's just that I think we're a very different theatrical experience, and it's a bold and strange move to have us here among all these more conventional shows. But as it is with No Shame, the people who have come to see us have liked us ... we just wish more people would come to see us. [Sigh!] Why couldn't I have had an affinity for and interest in building construction ... or arms development?

So today is our first of three days off. It's almost 3:00 p.m. and I haven't left my room yet. I'll end this obnoxiously long blog before my roommate returns and wants his laptop back and I'll probably wander out and take my third stab at getting schedules for their failing bus system. (They don't even seem to have one schedule, just individual schedules for their individual routes.) Maybe then I can make my way to this market I've heard about. Then I'll get to buy some detergeant and juice and other basic stuff. Ah, the life of an artist.