jenniferblaine

There are a number of mobile ads for strip clubs that circulate throughout Philadelphia. Some are for the Penthouse Club, some are for Delilah’s Strip Club, some are on the sides of buses, some are actually vehicles with a designated billboard devoted to advertising the venue, but no matter how many times I see them, I am shocked.

It was one thing to see magazines on newsstands when I was an adolescent growing up in NYC. I might spy a woman, breasts on display, demanding I peek to see what else might be available. The fact that “woman as sexual object” was largely confined to the newsstand gave me some kind of comfort. Nowadays I am invaded by images of these women in their fantastically clad but still pornographic poses. There I am driving, thinking about some truly important problem, and along comes (no pun intended) the Penthouse truck, and I swear it hijacks my attention. It actually stops traffic, it causes children to point and ask premature questions, and most importantly as a woman artist it makes me lose my train of thought. I even start devoting a blog post to the Penthouse truck! I start to wonder, “Is that young woman in the picture getting paid well for having her image/ass paraded throughout Philly?” “Or is she paid a flat rate?” “Does her mother know she’s on the truck?” “Did she have to beat out a lot of other ‘girls’ for this job?” “Is she an actual stripper or just a model?”

And of course I think of my own child, and the fact that these women on the truck are gorgeous, and that my daughter, also gorgeous, loves fashion, seeing attractive women in pretty outfits, and has not yet asked what these images are all about. We sometimes pass the window display for a clothing store, and the grand gowns beckon her. “I love that Mommy,” she says “can’t you just see me in that?” I don’t want her to make the same leap when she sees the strip club ads, and gets the notion that that is what it’s like to be a beautiful woman. I know it’s just a matter of time before she brings up the Penthouse truck.

Apart from the fact that it feels like a gross invasion of public space, what really upsets me about the Penthouse truck? I wish there were images of women like Sonia Sotomayor, or Ruth Bader Ginsburg on the side of the truck. I wish we walked down the street and could learn about Elizabeth Caddy Stanton by reading the side of a bus. I wish we would hear the stories of what it took for these women to really achieve …… in the world, and could learn about the myriad paths women take to make a difference in the world. I want to hear and see the stories about women that are so beautiful in what they are DOING that I can’t stop staring at them and how beautiful they are. And so I guess I have to admit, that when it comes to these ads, I’m not really bothered by the nudity, it’s the narrowness of how it teaches us to look at women’s beauty, when the reality is we could never exhaust its true depth.

JENNIFER BLAINE PLAYS 8 REAL-LIFE ACTIVISTS IN TIMELY NEW SHOW DIRTY JOKE

World-premiere performance on November 30 at The Ethical Society

November 6, 2012 – Jennifer Blaine, Philadelphia’s acclaimed solo performer, comedienne and playwright “whose comic genius is like Lily Tomlin and Tracey Ullman” (Philadelphia Daily News), will debut her newest one-woman show “Dirty Joke” at 8 p.m. Friday, November 30 at The Ethical Society, 1906 Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia, Pa. Tickets are $20; for information and to purchase, call 215-546-1612 or visit www.jenniferblaine.com.

Jennifer Blaine has performed with the likes of Chris Rock and Joe Piscopo and brought her smart, irreverent humor to premier venues and festivals nationwide. “Dirty Joke” is particularly timely on the heels of the presidential election—when social and political issues are top of mind, and many people are craving some comedy, candor, and inspiration.

Jennifer is renowned for her extraordinary ability to shift between characters across age and ethnicity. “Dirty Joke” centers on one of Jennifer’s most popular characters: Ruth, an elderly Jewish woman with a penchant for off-color humor. As Ruth convenes “the first live superwoman conference” (which also happens to include a man), Jennifer portrays 8 real-life changemakers who have made a significant impact on our world:

• Madeleine Albright: The first female U.S. Secretary of State, who advocated for democracy and human rights;

• Arianna Huffington: President and editor-in-chief of the Huffington Post Media Group and author of 13 books—twice named to the Time 100;

• Caroline Casey: Blind Irish activist who rode 1,000 kilometers across India on an elephant to raise funds for Sightsavers;

• Kiran Bir Sethi: Pioneering Indian educator who founded the Riverside School in Ahmedabad, focused on engaging young people and making cities more child-friendly;

• Majora Carter: Founder of Sustainable South Bronx who coined the term “Green The Ghetto,” and the recipient of MacArthur “genius” Fellowship;

• Cindy Sheehan: American anti-war activist who protested outside of President George W. Bush’s Texas ranch after her son was killed during the Iraq War;

• Wangari Maathai: Nobel Prize-winning Kenyan activist who, as founder of the Green Belt Movement, planted millions of trees with women’s groups;

• Muhammad Yunus: “Banker to the poor” who established the Grameen Bank in Bangladesh, fueled by the belief that credit is a fundamental human right.

Beyond celebrating each individual’s incredible accomplishments, Jennifer brings to life their lesser-known and very relatable struggles, fears, and insights. As Jennifer explains, “When I craft a character, I start from an inner sense of who the person is and what motivates them. I study their history, listen to them speak and zero in on their gestures, posture and gait. Then there comes that shift from being just a snippet of a person into a living, breathing tribute.”

Inspired by one of Jennifer’s relatives, the character of Ruth challenges the audience’s expectations of what an elderly person will say or do. Ruth provides the throughline of comic relief because, as Jennifer explains, “Laughter is a gateway to talking and thinking about larger social justice issues.”

“Dirty Joke” marks Jennifer’s fourth collaboration with director and fellow Wesleyan University graduate Vashti Dubois — who most recently conceived of and produced the critically acclaimed 2012 Philly Fringe show “EvictionProof PeepShow Home.”

Explains Vashti, “’Dirty Joke’ allows us to see what Jennifer does best, which is inhabit the personalities and stories of ordinary and extraordinary people to connect all of us to some of the most interesting thinking that’s out there. And for me, working with Jennifer on ‘Dirty Joke’ is an opportunity to introduce people to Ruth’s ability to make sense of the world not just for her but for all of us.”

It’s no coincidence that Jennifer’s latest show features a “conference of superwomen.” In addition to keeping a busy schedule as a solo performer and comedienne, Jennifer is the founder of The 5,000 Women Festival — which has featured accomplished female artists of all disciplines for the past two years at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut. According to Jennifer, “The intention of the festival is to showcase the creativity of artists in all media and ultimately gather together 5,000 presenters to perform and share works, exchange ideas, and inspire change in our world.”

Because I’m an actress, when I mother, I often give Lily acting tips.

Once, when Lily was just 2 years old, I explained emoting as the feeling of really wanting something.

“In ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’,” I told her, “Stanley is so nuts about his wife he calls out for her ‘Stella! Stella! Do you understand what I mean?”

Without missing a beat Lily replied “Sure. That would be like me saying Elmo!!!! Elmo!!!!!'”

I’m always telling Lily I love her.

When I say “I love you,” she says “I already know that Mom.”

This week I asked “Do you know why I tell you I love you all the time?”

“No, why?” she replied.

“Because someday when I’m not here anymore you’ll be able to close your eyes and just feel that love still inside you.”

And she said, “Oh Mom. When you’re not here anymore, we could always just SKYPE!”