jenniferblaine

Today was a typical day in my life, 9 short days away from the FringeArts performances of “Dirty Joke:”

7am: Get my daughter to her first day of school.

8am: Coach my first client.

9am: Leave for an audition.

10am: Have audition at Voicebox.

10:45: Back to coach another session.

11:45 Pick up my daughter and enjoy play time during which we make each other laugh.

1-4pm: Rehearse my show “Dirty Joke.”

4-6m: Fun/Play time with Lily who insists on dancing one particular number from my show 33 times. I then make her, my husband and myself dinner.

6-8pm: Coach 2 more clients

8pm: Write this blog.

In the midst of this (4:48pm) my stepdaughter’s boyfriend asks “Jennifer, how do you stay positive all the time?” This really took me off guard because I don’t believe that I am positive all the time. When I admitted as much he said “Seriously, I would pull my hair out over just half the things I watch you go through every day.”

I received the recognition and explained “Well we have to give without expecting anything. If we do that it becomes about the giving and not the getting. And I know that it will probably require 4,788 actions for me to achieve just one of my goals. With that in mind, I proceed, knowing the smaller goal is to do just another thing on the roster and whittle that 4,788 things to do down to 4,787.  Sometimes I get freaked out that I don’t have enough time, so I just do my best to proceed, knowing I I may not be able to do anything to change it anyway.”

He said “Jennifer, I wish I could be like that. I wish I were patient about it all like you.” I told him, “Start collecting evidence for how you are all the things you wish you were. Get aware of how you already are patient. Notice how you are reliable right now. The biggest dirty joke we play on ourselves is thinking that someone else has what we ourselves wish we had. So, start affirming that you do indeed have it, and over time it will start to take root in you, and you won’t have to work so hard to see it inside yourself.”

I admitted that I also get a lot of energy from the fact that I am just 9 days away from my show at FringeArts. Today in rehearsal my director Vashti taught me how to speak “like a black girl who went to private school,” and I was able to pull it off.

Hope you can make it to my FringeArts show to see how I pull everything together. Tix at www.jenniferblaine.com

JENNIFER BLAINE PLAYS 1 WISECRACKING GRANDMA AND 8 FAMOUS ACTIVISTS IN TIMELY NEW SHOW DIRTY JOKE

July 24, 2013 – Jennifer Blaine, Philadelphia’s acclaimed solo performer, comedienne, and playwright “whose comic genius is like Lily Tomlin and Tracey Ullman” (Philadelphia Daily News) will perform her newest one-woman show “Dirty Joke” as part of the 2013 FringeArts festival. 

Performances will take place Saturday, September 14 (4 p.m.), Sunday, September 15 (5 p.m.) and Tuesday, September 17 (8 p.m.) at the Off Broad Street Theatre, 1636 Sansom Street, Philadelphia. Tickets are $20 and available at www.jenniferblaine.com, 

Jennifer Blaine has performed with the likes of Chris Rock, George Carlin, and Joe Piscopo, and has brought her smart, irreverent humor to premier venues and festivals nationwide. Jennifer is renowned for her extraordinary ability to shift between characters across age and ethnicity; her shows are a balm for those craving some comedy, candor, and inspiration.

“Dirty Joke” centers on one of Jennifer’s most popular characters: Ruth, an elderly Jewish woman with a penchant for off-color humor. Ruth sings, dances, tells jokes, and makes light out of the dark moment in which she finds herself — struggling to hold onto her apartment. 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: Nobel Prize-winning “banker to the poor” who established 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. Although she is deeply attached to her home and her intention to keep it, she willingly enters into other character’s worlds and worldviews. 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 conceived of and produced the critically acclaimed 2012 Philly Fringe show “EvictionProof PeepShow Home.” Vashti co-founded the Mumbo Jumbo Theatre Company in NYC in the 1980s, championing female artists of color such as actresses Lisa Gay Hamilton (Beloved) and Hazel Goodman (Deconstructing Harry), and playwrights Lynn Nottage and Adrienne Kennedy.

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.”

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 showcases the creativity of women artists in all media. In that spirit, for FringeArts, Jennifer and Vashti are employing as many women artists as possible including the set designer, publicist, make-up artist, stage manager, and costume designer.

Last summer I was invited to audition for a series of voiceovers for an Atlantic City casino (I won’t be naming names). It was during the worst heat wave of the summer, 98 degrees in the shade. But I was committed to getting there to audition, and I got permission for my daughter, 5, to accompany me because she is interested in learning about the business of acting.

I got the script and it was inventive and playful. I gave an initial read of the copy (an insider’s term for script), took feedback, and did my best to give the producers what they wanted. I looked at my daughter and her stuffed animal through the glass of the recording booth. She held up a thumb’s up. Everyone was really happy with my work. The studio kept me there, requesting various multiple reads. I felt great about my chances. It turns out I was the only person even asked to audition for the part.

Guess what?

I did not get the part. No one did. If you visit the website you can see an infomercial which features gorgeous models shopping, going to the spa, gambling, and getting into bed, along with fun upbeat music. But there is no voice to read the fabulous copy I used at the audition.

So what lesson can I take from this ego-bruising experience?

Sometimes we do our best and it doesn’t pan out. That is part of the process. I think the word process is key here. The universe sometimes puts events in our lives to just see whether we are only committed to getting results, or if we are committed to continuing to show up and be in the process, no matter what. If I look at it in terms of process, I am honored to have been able to audition at all. I am glad I got to take my daughter to work. And I am grateful for the opportunity to lend my voice, be part of a creative process.

Sometimes the reward is just showing up and giving. If we do that with grace we develop the tenacity to be able to stay in the creative process for the long haul.

I am a fan of The National Theater in London. Laurence Olivier was the first artistic director and its main stage is named in his honor. Productions at The National are unrivaled for classic, modern, and avant garde theater. In the summer of 1989 I was watching a production of The Misanthrope by Moliere, a particularly astounding performance. The air-conditioning unit rattled mid-performance, and the actors pressed on, improvising new verses, such as an ode to the air conditioner, so as not to break the reality of the play, but rather to incorporate the distraction. The result was that the play extended out beyond the confines of the stage. I was impressed with one of the actor’s ability to keep the audience focused, even as he struggled to maintain his own.

When the curtain came down, the audience began to applaud. The actor held up his hand to halt it. He said, “We have just learned that Sir Laurence Olivier has died. Please join us in a minute of silence.” We all sat there in the place Olivier had created, appreciating the magic of these actors. It was only later that we discovered they had learned Olivier had died during the intermission. They had to focus and perform, all the while knowing that the person who had made this production, and perhaps even their life paths possible, had just died.

We need to focus as actors as if performing our material is a matter of life or death. I marvel that these artists could do that whether it was in fact a matter of life or death or just a rattling air-conditioner.

Okay. I’m going to declare it here on January 30, 2013. It’s a new year, and I really do have a resolution. I had a great premiere of my new show, DIRTY JOKE, at the end of 2012. I was pleased that the audience “got” the show. They enjoyed Ruth telling dirty jokes, as well as the real-life sheroes whose stories were featured in the play. But once the smoke cleared, I knew that I would have to do all kinds of re-writing and reconceiving in order to make the show what Vashti Dubois (my director) and I believe it could be: the show that best represents my work as a one-woman show, one that combines comedy, diverse characters, and social justice into a perfect Jennifer Blaine cocktail.

So, what is the resolution? The resolution is to make the show ready for prime time. I am embarking on the journey to take this show to NYC for an extended run.

NYC is my original home. I grew up on the theater in NYC. Vashti Dubois also grew up on NYC theatre. We are both from Brooklyn, and although we have made our homes in Philadelphia, we still speak Brooklyn. Having our work of art run in New York City is our grand vision. This is the big dream, and we are moving toward it.

Over the next months, and perhaps years, I will be updating everyone on my progress on this journey. So far, I am immersed in taking the show apart and completely re-writing it with Ruth’s story woven into the text. As Vashti commented, “up until now Ruth has hidden behind her jokes. No more of that.” There is now an additional storyline I am integrating into the play, as well as including whatever else Ruth wants the world to know.

I had originally wanted to take the show to NYC this year, but my publicist Karen Gross cautioned me to be really ready before doing so, so I decided to focus on re-writing, then perhaps performing it for an invitation-only-audience in the late Spring, and then in the Fall rolling it out for a proper Philadelphia run at the Philadelphia Fringe Festival. I thought if I do all that, then perhaps I will see whether the show is really ready or may need some further tinkering and touring to get the kinks out.

But guess what? Last Friday, as I drove my daughter to an all-day camp so I would have a writing day to work on the show, I received a call from Vashti that “Dirty Joke” was being considered for The Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts. I hunkered down and wrote my proposal and hours later I was confirmed as having a place in this prestigious festival hosted by The Kimmel Center. I felt like I was back in the saddle. Prior to having my daughter almost 6 years ago, I would tour and partake in festivals. I can feel that old self coming back to meet me, like a friend who is ready to walk the same path together after being separated for so long. I will write more about the performance and workshop as it approaches.

I am not sure how this goal will ultimately resolve itself, but I will keep sharing the process. So far, so good. If all goes as planned, perhaps at the end of the winter, this caterpillar will emerge from its cocoon, holding her show with one wing, marketing materials in the other, and be ready to fly — though in a form she might not recognize herself.

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.