Naomi and Andrew's Italian Adventure

Piediluco Spettaculo; a dramatic re-telling

2010-08-15T13:09:00.000-07:00

Alright, here goes, folks. This one has taken on a life of its own, a fitting fate for a tale we’d rather forget at times. It was hoped that telling the story in its entirety once and for all would help with this, but some of the quotes that have resurfaced are just too good to let go and will probably be used as source material for years to come.

Okay, here’s the situation: We are now back in Labro, it’s two weeks until a two-day festival at which we are the only scheduled entertainment and we’ve got a mountain of music to summit. On top of this, we’ve just agreed to do gig we know almost nothing about in one week’s time and our first rehearsal is today. We’re not going in totally blind; things we DO know include the following:

* A well-known Italian theater director has hired the Art Monastery band (including recent country-western diva Jennie Knaggs) to play music for a show.

* Well-known Italian theater director also wants Naomi to do a silks act.

* Naomi has spoken briefly with well-known Italian theater director and reports that he seems nice .

* Naomi also reports that well-known Italian theater director speaks little English.

* Gig takes place in the small lake town of Piediluco, which we can see from the top of the monastery. Few of us have actually been there, despite it being fifteen minutes’ drive away. Cloistered? You bet.

* The gig is an “Animazione” (animation) event, in which the audience will be led through a town scattered with small performances/happenings in various locations.

* We are one feature in a series of other amusements.

* At some point we will perform on a stage of some kind.

With these given circumstances, our heroes await an experience so ridiculous that nothing could have prepared them. We’ve been some days in preparation and are now happy to present our grand debut of Ivan and the Pediluco Spettaculo?!. A splendid time is guaranteed for all.

IVAN AND THE PIEDILUCO SPETTACULO?!

ACT ONE: The Monastery Theater

A BAND of young American musicians enters theater, sits, fidgets, waits for well-known Italian theater director. NAOMI is already in the theater warming up to perform on aerial silks. Instruments are tuned, Art Monastery artistic director CHRISTOPHER arrives to translate. BAND talks about upcoming country music festival, discusses arrangement ideas, congratulates selves on brilliance of aforementioned ideas.

Enter IVAN, well-known Italian theater director.

IVAN (pronounced EEE-van ) is a sprightly Italian man of about sixty. He has long white hair pulled into a high ponytail and his face is weathered, but his dark eyes twinkle like electrified marbles. He gesticulates wildly when he speaks and his voice has the breathy intensity of someone who has just yelled themselves hoarse at a football game. Virtually everything he says is prefaced by the Italian filler word “allora” (alright) and he dramatically escalates the intonation of his voice at the beginning of a sentence before half-mumbling the rest at great speed.

IVAN and CHRISTOPHER greet each other and exchange pleasantries. CHRISTOPHER introduces IVAN to BAND. IVAN turns to greet NAOMI, who is wearing a blue practice leotard and leg warmers. IVAN asks NAOMI to perform something for him and CHRISTOPHER interprets. NAOMI does a pretty silks act. IVAN asks her to do something more theatrical, asks if she can sing him a song whilst on silks. NAOMI climbs silks and sings “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” a song she has been working on for a Cirque du Soleil audition. IVAN, immediately dissatisfied, interrupts her by shouting something indecipherable in half-English. NAOMI, puzzled, returns to the ground, asks IVAN what he wants.

IVAN responds by performing a one-man show. Quiet at the start, his voice rides a rollercoaster of growing excitement as he declaims and his body expands and contracts dramatically as he flails back and forth in the center aisle. Five minutes later, IVAN finishes his story and turns expectantly to NAOMI. NAOMI, confused, asks CHRISTOPHER what just happened. CHRISTOPHER, also confused, believes that IVAN has just related the story of a dream that filmmaker Frederico Fellini once had, which may have something to do with exotic animals, a tree and a young boy watching the circus come to town. CHRISTOPHER is 85% certain that IVAN wants NAOMI to envision this dream as she climbs the silks. NAOMI gamely complies and after more shouting and adjustments by IVAN produces a satisfactory result.

NAOMI climbs the silks and begins to sing again. Halfway through the second verse IVAN starts shouting at BAND. Musicians, confused, discover that IVAN was expecting them to accompany NAOMI. BAND hasn’t ever played the song but pieces together enough accompaniment to repeat the scene. The beginning goes well, but at the top of the second chorus IVAN begins shouting at BAND again. Musicians, still confused, discover that IVAN expects them to sing background vocals as well. A quick vocal arrangement is constructed and BAND sings with NAOMI. IVAN shouts more instructions, makes more adjustments and eventually expresses satisfaction with the piece. BAND and NAOMI feel a sense of accomplishment but are uncertain as to what they have just accomplished. Two and a half hours have passed since IVAN’s arrival.

INTERMISSION

As you enter the lobby, take a moment to click the link below and listen to the song therein:

http://doublecouponday.blogspot.com/2009/07/bargain-day-half-off.html

You need to listen to this song because A) it’s fun and B) it’s important context for the second half of our show. Go ahead and click the link now: http://doublecouponday.blogspot.com/2009/07/bargain-day-half-off.html

Has “Bargain Day” fully seeped into your brain? Can you recall the tune?

You can? Excellent. Let’s continue.

ACT TWO: The Monastery Courtyard

After a quick break, BAND and NAOMI join IVAN in the monastery courtyard for more rehearsal. CHRISTOPHER has departed for a meeting, leaving BAND with an AMERICAN FRIEND who speaks Italian to translate. IVAN asks BAND to play another song. BAND, unaware of what they are about to commit themselves to, plays several bars of “Bargain Day,” a cheeky country-western novelty tune they learned the previous day. IVAN declares the song an ideal leitmotif (enthusiastically pronounced, “Life Motive!”) for the show. The following rehearsal ensues:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxZmAh-sE10

After a short break, BAND begins rehearsing again. Half an hour later they still have no idea what they’re doing. After another short break IVAN leads BAND out of the courtyard once more and onto the front steps of the monastery. IVAN arranges BAND into a tableau with all the male musicians gazing adoringly at lead vocalist Jennie Knaggs. IVAN steps back, scowls, rotates Jennie’s shoulders fifteen degrees, steps back, scowls, repeats process several more times. IVAN directs NAOMI to dance in front of BAND as they play. NAOMI dances and IVAN immediately begins shouting. NAOMI stops dancing and IVAN commands her to dance “…like Charlie Chaplin, but NOT like Charlie Chaplin.” NAOMI blindly attempts to convey this and IVAN is satisfied.

IVAN calls rehearsal to a halt, asks BAND to show him their costumes. BAND puts on flamboyant country-western gear, which IVAN dismisses as “too normale.” ANDREW goes to his tent and returns wearing yellow striped bell bottoms, a frilly red tux shirt, a belt buckle the size of a tea saucer and a neon green bowler with a red feather. IVAN stares at ANDREW. Several seconds pass in awkward silence, then IVAN suddenly leaps out of his seat and tackles ANDREW with a forceful hug, nearly knocking him over. BAND laughs a few seconds too long. More outrageous costumes are approved, a follow-up rehearsal is scheduled and IVAN exits.

ACT THREE: THE PIEDILUCO SPETTACULO

SCENE ONE: Piediluco

On the day of the show BAND arrives in the small lake town of Piediluco for a 10:00 AM rehearsal. A large stage has been built in the piazza and NAOMI’s silks are hung between two nearby buildings in preparation for the impending Spettaculo. IVAN takes a break from shouting at the tech crew to explain the plan: the show will start on the stage with several Italian performers, then BAND will enter and lead the audience around the city to the various locations where performances will be staged. IVAN leads BAND and a number of Italian performers through the town, stopping frequently to arrange scenes and shout at people. BAND is given directions like, ”Make the music of love…NOW NOW NOW!” (what this refers to they have not been informed, so they improvise) and constantly exhorted to sing louder. After hours of running around in the Mediterranean sun, BAND begins to suspect that IVAN is making most of this up on the spot.

Toward the end of the route, BAND is arranged in a parking lot and instructed to play “Bargain Day.” BAND begins to play and IVAN abruptly walks away to get something, leaving them to their own devices. Bored and feeling a little snarky, the musicians begin to sing on the word “meow.” The following scene ensues:

BAND giggles though several choruses of "meowmeowmeow" while Molly films them. IVAN returns. The BAND, attempting to maintain some facade of professionalism, reverts back to the real lyrics of the song. IVAN shouts at all the other straggling performers, arranging them around the still playing BAND. IVAN realizes that the BAND is now singing words. IVAN yells at the BAND to go back to singing "meow." IVAN yells at the other performers to join in, singing "meow." This goes in the show.

AND!!! This entire thing was caught on tape for your viewing pleasure:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxaP_MtU8V0

Their rebellion codified, BAND is exhausted and utterly defeated by the time rehearsal ends. Sunburns have set in, fingers are raw, voices are hoarse, feet are sore (damn you, cute shoes) and stomachs are roaring with neglected displeasure. In addition to their improvisatory responses to IVAN’s unexpected musical requests, BAND has now been playing their Life Motive intermittently for nearly six hours without a break.

After rehearsal the musicians retire to the green room for the food they have been promised, but upon arrival, they discover that the performers will be fed in five hours, after the Spettaculo has concluded. BAND improvises, eats entire bag of peanuts, gets into hair and makeup and prepares for the show. The cast is called to order and takes their places.

SCENE TWO: The Spettaculo

PERFORMERS enter and walk single file to the stage, led by two tuxedoed men riding fanciful old bicycles. Several OPERA SINGERS perform, followed by BAND, who bursts onstage exuberantly dancing and trying to make “Bargain Day” heard to three hundred people without amplification. BAND dances offstage, still playing, and leads the audience down the street to the place where NAOMI’s silks are hung. BAND arranges themselves between two buildings and begins to play “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” NAOMI enters in a gold leotard, envisions something resembling the once-contents of Frederico Fellini’s subconscious mind, sings, performs a theatrical silks routine and exits. BAND comes down from their positions, stands in a line before the audience, and plays “Bargain Day.”

NAOMI returns in a peasant-girl costume and leads BAND down the street in a variety of marching formations. Audience follows, BAND continues to play “Bargain Day.” Halfway down the street, BAND turns around as directed and starts walking back toward their confused audience. BAND wades through the audience and down a set of stairs to a path along the lakeshore. BAND arranges themselves into a new tableaux and stops playing. An ITALIAN ACTRESS rises from the water. BAND makes the music of love,

which they have discovered to be in the key of G major. BAND stops playing as ACTRESS picks up two bowls of fire and dances with them hypnotically. ACTRESS finishes her dance in an uncommon moment of silence. The spell hangs in the air for a moment, and is promptly interrupted with “Bargain Day.”

BAND leads audience down the stairs and along the lakeshore and stops halfway along the path, where two VIOLINISTS play a brief piece on top of a torchlit bench. They finish and BAND leads audience out to a dock with the gossamer strains of “Bargain Day.” BAND, now joined by VIOLINISTS, stops on the dock facing the audience and continues playing as a rowboat approaches the shore with a tuxedoed man behind the oars. The music stops and an OPERA SINGER in a white dress sings an aria from the boat. The aria ends and the performers pause as they realize that the next cue was never given. An awkward silence, then a shout from the crowd: “LIFE MOTEEV!”

BAND begins to play and lead the audience to a dramatically lit medieval church. BAND climbs church steps, stands on precarious ledge, waits for audience and continues to play “Bargain Day.” The ITALIAN ACTRESS from before delivers a monologue at the top of the church steps and collapses dramatically at the end. The moment she hits the ground a beautiful ITALIAN DANCER emerges from the shadows artfully tangled in a flowing costume. She artfully untangles herself, performs a brief modern dance piece and finishes to applause. NAOMI gives the cue with her kazoo and BAND kicks into an inspired rendition of “Bargain Day.”

NAOMI leads BAND down the street and stops them at a parking lot illuminated by giant projections of insects and flowers. The audience arrives, two VIOLINISTS play a brief piece and another OPERA SINGER performs. An IMPASSIVE WOMAN who has been seated in the center of the parking lot stands and walks to a small wooden chest several feet away. Pink Floyd begins blaring at top volume through a hidden PA system and the bug projections begin to cycle faster. Deadpan, the IMPASSIVE WOMAN opens the chest, takes out a floppy sun hat and puts it on. A shawl is produced, followed by a parasol. The projections reach a fevered pitch as she slowly opens the parasol, twirls it once and moves it in a circle. The projections begin to slow down and she returns the items to the chest, climbs inside and closes the lid top on herself. Music stops. Timid applause. “Bargain Day.”

BAND reaches another parking lot and arranges into formation with the other performers, all of whom begin to meow furiously. IVAN, lurking in the background, beams approval. Large fireworks strung over the parking lot are lit, producing a spectacular sparkling twenty-foot sheet of flame and a churning maelstrom of thick white smoke. Visibility drops to two feet and the musicians begin to hack and cough as the smoke consumes them. ANDREW, eyes and lungs burning, attempts to continue singing, chokes violently and fails. NAOMI clasps the hem of her dress over ANDREW’s face as he attempts to continue playing. ANDREW falls in love with her a little more. A second row of fireworks is lit, smoke gets thicker and audience also begins to cough violently. BAND makes the executive decision to lead the audience out before the smoke has dissipated and the people follow enthusiastically. BAND has not stopped playing “Bargain Day.”

The end is near. BAND leads the audience back towards the piazza, stopping to listen to another aria being delivered from a second-floor balcony. As directed, BAND watches the singer with exaggerated wonderment, perhaps a little more exaggerated than instructed. The aria ends and the “Bargain Day” commences in full ragged force as BAND plays the audience back to the stage for the finale. Though there is plenty of space in the piazza, the audience chooses to sit sixty feet away, leaving a gaping cobblestone hole in front of the stage. NAOMI, as requested, has climbed up into a large dramatically lit tree behind the stage. Her action has not been specified but she commits to being in the tree with such focus and dedication that no one questions why she is there. The finale begins. Several more arias are sung, a belly dance number is performed and Jennie Knaggs plays a solo tune during which the sound guy decides not to amplify her guitar. BAND then performs a rendition of “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” riveted by its novel inclusion of a third chord. The show concludes and the performers take a bow, followed by IVAN, who prances onstage for a deep curtsy and enthusiastic shouting.

The Spettaculo ends as a huge banner proclaiming something applause-worthy about Piediluco makes its way through the crowd, held aloft by a flotilla of industrial-strength balloons. A tuxedoed man lights some fireworks at the bottom, hefts the banner and launches it into the air in a shower of sparks. The banner soars across the obsidian lake, crosses the moon, and melts into the darkness as the last spark dies out.

BAND makes the music of silence.

Thwarted Cirque du Soleil audition video

2010-08-04T03:47:00.000-07:00

In the middle of our Amsterdam travels, Cirque du Soleil contacted Naomi and asked her to submit a video audition for a new show in LA. It included a singing, acting, and dancing section, with very specific requests. They wanted to see dancing "like Cyd Charisse, from movies like Singing in the Rain." So both of us decided to learn a Cyd Charisse/Fred Astaire dance from the movie "the Band Wagon."

Naomi learned the choreography from YouTube, and taught it to Andrew, who has less dance experience, but kept up marvelously. We spent several sweltering mornings in a borrowed dance studio with many windows, none of which opened, and no fans or air conditioning.

In the end, it turns out that Cirque du Soleil cast the role weeks before the deadline of July 15th that they gave Naomi, so the audition unfortunately did not happen. But we now have many videos of us trying to dance like Cyd Charisse and Fred Astaire in a dance studio in Rieti, Italy!

*note: please watch the original video after you watch this. not before. it will blow your mind.

Return to Labro

2010-08-03T07:17:00.000-07:00

After a month of romping about Europe we finally returned to Labro to rejoin the Art Monastery. It was cold and raining when we arrived, a bizarre reprieve from the heat wave that seared Umbria for the week prior to our return. Our housing situation had changed in the month we were gone, leaving our cozy room unavailable and other options scarce. Using what we had, we improvised some DIY sleeping quarters in the ground floor of the Art Monastery’s occupied staff apartment bedroom. (Which we later left in favor of a tent in the neighbor's yard.) Not a terribly comfortable way to resume our foray into Art Monasticism, but we made do.

The Art Monastery was buzzing like a nervous hornet on our first day back. A sizeable number of shows were on the horizon and the promotional engine was cranking at full speed to keep up. The load was so great that the Art Monastery staff requested a week of everyone’s time to pick up their slack and play administrative catch-up. Office work was not what we had come for, but with everyone else volunteering we agreed, against our better judgment, to help as well. Had we known that at this moment and many others we’d be expected to dedicate significant amounts of our work time to Art Monastery administrative/community responsibilities, perhaps we would have structured our arrangement a little differently. It’s hard to tell, but hey, Buyer Beware. Now we know.

Several days later the Art Monastery was graced by the arrival of one Miss Jennie Knaggs, self-described “sassy classy lassy” and country-western singer extraordinaire. Jennie had come from Detroit to be a featured headliner at a country music festival the Art Monastery was throwing in several weeks’ time. We and the other resident musicians were tapped to be Jennie’s backing band, though most of us had little or no experience playing country music. Andrew had played with Jennie at Burning Man several years earlier and was excited to work with her again, but the rest of the gang wasn’t entirely sure what they were about to do.

As it turned out, working with Jennie was a dee-light. Not only an incredible musician and performer, Miss Knaggs has spent a decade of her young life becoming a comprehensive walking encyclopedia of western swing, old-time, honky-tonk and country-western music, which was about to come in very handy. The day after her arrival we learned that Jennie, now advertised in tandem with “her American Cowboys,” was the only act that had actually been booked for the upcoming two-day festival. How this happened is still mysterious, but we rolled with it, shifting the band’s focus from absorbing style and technique to learning large amounts of music as fast as possible. Fortunately, our high-ridin’ country-western chanteuse was up to the challenge and began cranking out leadsheets for what would eventually become a full three hours of material. Bless you, Jennie Knaggs.

Repertoire on the way, we began to assemble a heroic rehearsal schedule for the following three weeks. A major impediment stood in our way, however: our drummer Rob had no drums to play and there was nary a contrabass in sight for Andrew. Since our first month in Labro countless attempts had been made to rent or borrow instruments for the band; musicians, music stores, music schools, friends, friends-of-friends, former-roommates-of-friends-of-friends-that-we-met-that-one-time…the Art Monastery had tried them all, but to no avail. Rehearsals had to continue, so with a collection of sonorous pots and pans and Andrew’s trusty ukulele we forged onward. With Naomi on board, vocal arrangements came with astonishing speed and fury, but the instrument question loomed over our heads as the country festival drew nigh.

Work on building the festival lineup was still crawling along, so Naomi decided to pitch in. Part of the festival’s nebulous entertainments had been promoted as “Booze & Blues,” and Naomi seized the opportunity to assemble a blues set with the band, buying us another precious hour of music. Art Monastery affiliates Liz and Anna volunteered their services on vocals and soon we were rehearsing two bands back-to-back. Rehearsals were necessarily intense and options were limited, forcing longer and longer rehearsals as our deadline approached.

With time running out we were increasingly unable to accommodate additional demands on our time. Several folks at the Art Monastery kindly offered to cover the musicians’ weekly chores, which helped immensely. Despite this, we were completely unprepared for the next curveball. Two weeks before the festival we were told that a well-known Italian theater director was interested hiring us (particularly Naomi) for a gig the following weekend and wanted the following afternoon to rehearse with us. We were dubious. A gig is a gig, but we had a deadline coming – could we afford the time for another project? The Art Monastery staff felt that this connection would be a good networking opportunity, despite the additional time commitment, and finally persuaded us to take the gig.

We had no idea what we had just gotten ourselves into.

The string of events that followed were so bizarre, so sprawling, so full of mirth and ridiculousness that they need a separate post to relate. Hold onto to your unitard and sparkly hats – the infamous Piediluco Spettaculo is next!

Funny Signs Continued

2010-07-24T07:32:00.001-07:00

This is an addendum to the last funny signs post. We found more!

This one is quite old actually, from our first weekend in Italy on a day trip to Orvieto. Twilight popsicles. In Edward and Jacob flavors. Seriously?

Funny plant names at the Berlin Botanischer Garden

I don't have anything to say about this... I think it's a cleaning product.

Berlin!

2010-07-23T08:24:00.000-07:00

Greetings once more! We are out of the thicket of our last few gigs in Italy and are now able to post more regularly. There’s a few weeks of catch-up to do, so let’s begin.

After several fun days in Frankfurt we packed our belongings and hopped a bus to Berlin. We had been told that the bus was a cheaper option than taking a train and a cheaper option it was, albeit a tedious nine-hour trip. Sitting in a chair for a really long time can be surprisingly tiring, and our energy levels were very low by the time we got to the bus station. Stumbling slightly, we navigated our unwieldy gear through the maze of the Berlin subway system and finally emerged on Oranienburger Strasse for our final destination.

Our home-away-from-home in Berlin was KuLe, one of the oldest artist squats in Berlin. In America, taking over an abandoned building in a major city and making it your permanent home seems a little unusual, but there are a number of such places in Berlin. East Berlin and its people were in terrible shape after the Berlin Wall fell and their subsequent exodus to the West left abandoned buildings everywhere. Artists slowly began to occupy and develop these abandoned spaces, many of which are still around today.

Kule was one of these, an abandoned apartment building with no roof and a tarnished façade that belied its cavernous interior. A group of artists moved into the building in 1990 and were eventually able to get legal ownership of the place, all the while using their meager resources to turn the building into a beautiful arty paradise. And paradise it was; gorgeous murals in every stairwell (some with permanent sound installations) a floor-to-ceiling mosaic bathroom and no less than fifteen artists living communally in some of the coolest rooms you’ve ever seen. The Art Monastery’s director lived in Kule for a number of years and hooked us up with one of his old buddies who still lives there. For seven Euros a night we got our own fully-appointed corner in the attic with blanket walls and a skylight looking out across the city center. Gorgeous.

In Berlin we had once again been hooked up with free circus tickets (thank you Gregg!) but were at risk of missing the show due to our late bus. Upon arrival we threw on fancy clothes, got done up and sprinted out the door to make it to the show in record time. Yes, we could have just gone in our street clothes, but this is us we’re talking about and it’s the CIRCUS! Our destination was the Chamaleon, an ornate ballroom in the middle of Berlin that has been retrofitted for producing world-class variete shows. This was a more contemporary circus than the one we saw in Amsterdam, resplendent with nebulous themes of Resisting Conformity and the Struggles of Urban Living. Replace Cirque du Soleil’s mystical language and psychedelic bodysuits with high-decibel rock music and edgy urban fashion and you get the basic idea. Though not as engaging as Circus Roncalli, there were some cool acts, including a terrifying four-man Chinese Pole act. Imagine, if you will, four men climbing tall poles, hugging their knees around the poles in a tight fetal position, then releasing their grip to fall nearly twelve feet before tightening their grip and catching themselves inches above the floor. In unison. Wow.

Going to the circus together is a special experience for the two of us and usually results in endless postshow scheming about developing fantastic new acts. After shows we also tend to scheme about running off with the circus and this was no exception. Know someone who runs a traveling circus? Drop us a line. Have van, will travel.

The following day took us to the Tiergarten, the Berlin equivalent of Central Park. We had high hopes for a peaceful day of lounging in the grass, but Berlin had other plans for us. We had been told there was a game that day, and figured that this meant that places like public parks would be deserted in favor of bars and public viewing squares. Hundreds of rowdy German soccer fans thought otherwise. The Berlin public viewing is so well attended that the only place they can hold it is IN THE TIERGARTEN. You can refer to our first Frankfurt post for an overview of German soccer culture, but for now it will suffice to say this was the biggest frat party we had ever seen, complete with the requisite indecipherable group yelling and assertive vomiting. We had fun nonetheless and enjoyed being outdoors so much that we decided to visit Berlin’s botanical gardens the following day.

As with soccer, the Botanischer Garten was even more intense than its Frankfurt counterpart. If you’re ever in Berlin, check it out – just take the subway to the Botanischer Garten stop, take a right at the giant strawberry and you’re right there. (Incidentally, the German word for strawberry is “erdbeer,” which for some reason provided us with hours of chuckles.) The Botanischer Garten’s breathtaking greenhouses and seductive paths were alone worth the price of admission (no, we didn’t hop the fence this time), but it was the pack of feral children playing on the lawn that made it an afternoon to remember. When was the last time a naked two-foot elf appeared out of nowhere to stare you down for the duration of your ice cream cone?

After Berlin it was back on the plane for the next installation of our saga…the Triumphant Return To Labro is next.

Amsterdam to Germany, being pampered by real adults.

2010-07-12T04:03:00.000-07:00

The second half of the second half of our Amsterdam odyssey found us quartered in the home of Marije Nie, Art Monastery associate and tapdancer extraordinaire. That's her to the right, wearing the fake paper moustache, clearly the most adorable person in the world. We had met Marije a week previous and talked with her about putting some kind of performance together during our final days in Amsterdam. When we returned from Belgium she and her boyfriend Erik not only offered to house ourselves and Art Monastery bandmate Charles for five days (a long time to have three musicians in your home) but had gotten the four of us a gig at her cousin’s wedding the following weekend. We spent several days rehearsing for the show and put together some material that we will likely continue to work on when Marije visits the Art Monastery in July. Marije drove us around, introduced us to her Amsterdam musician friends, fed us, found us rehearsal spaces, borrowed us gear, educated us on the Dutch arts scene and rocked some crazy foot percussion to boot. Very cool woman; check her out at http://tapdanser.ne.

While in Amsterdam we discovered that we would not be needed at the Art Monastery until a week after our projected June 13th arrival date. A quick inventory revealed a disproportionate number of connections and resources in Germany, so we threw some travel plans together and shortly found ourselves bound for another strange and wonderful adventure.

Naomi’s father Jeff attended high school in Germany for a year, where he still has many friends that were connected with several during our stay, the first being Jeff’s friend Gabi, who met us at the Frankfurt train station, tended to our weary souls and got us situated in her daughter’s apartment in downtown Frankfurt. There were several public viewings of the Germany vs. Australia World Cup game that night, so we decided to go check one out for ourselves. We had no idea what we were in for.

We followed a flood of rowdy soccer fans into a large fenced outdoor square containing a huge TV screen. Though it was still two hours before the game, the place was packed with thousands of people consuming gallons of beer while blowing air horns and chanting “DEUTSCHLAND!” in varying stages of coherency. It soon became clear, however, that we were only in the overflow lot. The primary lot was even bigger and packed so full of people that the fences could barely contain the flag-waving tide of red, yellow and black. We watched the game for awhile but had much more fun watching the sea of fans, who would transform from typical spectators into a deafening mob for several minutes anytime a goal was scored. We left before the game ended and walked home through abandoned streets, the lone atheists at the prayer meeting.

Our Frankfurt adventures also included a visit to Marburg to see Jeff's friend Andreas. The picture to the left is Naomi with Andreas and Gabriella (Andreas' wife) and Gabi. This was the closest to everyone actually looking at the camera that we managed to get. I think the dog was doing something funny.

While in Marburg we visited a store that only sold gummi candies (85 varieties), ate a delicious homecooked meal with Andreas and had the most amazing ice cream of our lives. The establishment will remain unnamed so as to keep the spot from blowing up, but if you ever happen to be in Marburg, ask a local for directions to the best frozen treats in town and go for the coconut, two scoops for a Euro fifty.

The castle that Naomi's dad lived in (well next to...) in high school!

The following day we returned to Frankfurt and wandered around until we stumbled on the Palmgarten, a large botanical garden in the center of town. We spent the day ogling magical plants from the world over, many of which can be seen in the photo from a few weeks ago. In the evening we stopped at the supermarket for our new favorite edible: green sauce. Green sauce is a Frankfurt specialty consisting of seven different herbs in a yogurt-like base with the consistency of salad dressing. We know for sure that it’s got dill and sweet relish in it, but the rest is still unknown. What is clear, however, is that this is the most delicious sauce ever. We ate nothing but potatoes and green sauce for an entire day an were happy as clams – go to Frankfurt, get some, get your mind blown.

Our last day in Frankfurt was spent with Gert and Ula, two very distant relatives (like, twelfth cousins) of Naomi’s dad. Their beautiful house in the country was a welcome break from city living, as were their amazing hospitality and functional washing machine. We mentioned an interest in cycling before we went to bed and awoke the next day to discover that a guided 35-kilometer bike tour had been arranged for us. Wow, German hospitality. Wow.

Our tour of the countryside terminated at another delicious ice cream parlor, where we marveled a new and bizarre culinary creation: spaghetti ice. This frozen confection consists of vanilla ice cream squeezed through a giant garlic press, producing a pile of what looks like…you guessed it! Spaghetti. The frosty faux noodles are then topped with strawberry “marinara” and white chocolate “parmesan” flakes. Other iterations of this concept can involve anything from lime-green kiwi sauce to reddish-brown chocolate meatballs and ambiguously lumpy white “alfredo.” How someone came up with this in a country known for sausage and sauerkraut is still a mystery.

Next up: a tale of falafel, futbol, circus and bohemian living in the “poor, yet sexy” hub of contemporary German culture. Stay tuned…Berlin is next.

Auf Wiedersehen!

More to come...

2010-07-12T03:52:00.001-07:00

So we have been insanely busy here at the Art Monastery! Also, we had no internet at all for most of a week, so we're VERY behind on blogs. They're sitting on our computers waiting to be posted, and it will happen, never fear! So keep eyes open for more amusement to come. At some point.

Humorous European Signage. (It's not just in Japan anymore, folks.)

2010-06-29T00:44:00.000-07:00

no explanation needed.

Nude In Box? For only 3.50? wow! In the US, I can only find Nude On Plate, and it's like 10 bucks.

Don't name your menswear store this. just don't.

In a cult? Thinking of proposing? Have a thing for unfortunate names? Shop at Udo Binsack!

This name manages to be cute and disturbing at the same time.

A word of advice to advertisers: including the word "rot" anywhere on the packaging of a food product is not advised.

This store sells only cat accessories. Like this cat chessboard. Also notice the one canine representation: a needlepoint pillow of a pug wearing a high collared army jacket.

There is a butt in this window display of a photo studio.

For some reason, I do not have a burning desire to be on this team...

The emolife emo foundation called. They're picking up donations of eyeliner and skinny jeans on Thursday, just put the box on the porch.

I'm not entirely sure what it is that is funny about this sign, but I do know that it is hilarious.

Feeling too relaxed? Need a dose of panic? A little extra anxiety in your day? Shop at STRESS!

Yep.

Nutroma: just what I wanted in my coffee this morning.

Parents & Co: in case you were wondering why any packages take weeks longer that expected to arrive - this 3x6 inch CHALKBOARD is the "address" on the outside of the monastery.

American Danceband Video

2010-06-28T03:42:00.000-07:00

Here's the link to the promo video for our Art Monastery band. Check it out!

http://www.youtube.com/user/ArtMonastery#p/u/0/dFNlMCPfH7A

Day at the Frankfurt Palmgarten

2010-06-19T10:23:00.000-07:00

Here are a selection of pictures from our adventure at the Palmgarten in Frankfurt- a beautiful park with lots of greenhouses full of strange and exotic flowers and cacti and trees, a rose garden and a lot more that we didn't even get a chance to see. (we may or may not have climbed over the fence to get in... )

Enjoy!

weird spiky tree trunk. It looks like an evil alien rose stem on steroids.

We thought that these flowers looked like something from Avatar

examining the flowers

That's right: the mangrove. Where they grow men.

We are so totally not supposed to be climbing the bamboo, but with our superior upper body strength, we couldn't resist it.

Naomi ninja kick-in-the-face!

Taking over Amsterdam

2010-06-10T08:06:00.000-07:00

Being tourists at Waterloo!

The adventure continues! Since we checked in last we’ve been all over the place. There are several updates on the way, so hang on and enjoy the vicarious ride.

After our first stay in Amsterdam we took off to Brussels, where one of Andrew’s Belgian cousins was graduating from high school. This particular high school is a well-funded international school attended by the children of multiple ambassadors and diplomats. It showed. In addition to a staffed entry

gate, tall fences, a large security crew and discreetly lurking bodyguards, a massive computerized light/audio rig had been installed in the gym for the event, with multiple techies dashing around to keep things running smoothly. The reception afterward was fully catered and had four different buffets, each with its own ethnic concept. The Mexican and Asian tables were particularly welcome to us Seattle-to-SF transplants, though in true European form, each exotic buffet began and ended with a giant basket of plain bread.

After a few lovely days spent with Andrew’s family we headed back to Amsterdam for the second leg of our stay. We were better connected this time around and Naomi was able to find a free place to stay for several nights through Couchsurfing.

Her host was Paul, a Dutch Burning Man guy who is really really really into hula hooping and photography. During the stay, he taught Naomi some basic hoop tricks. They also took a evening to go to one of the local circus studios and shoot some pictures of Naomi doing her thing. After an hour or so, this turned into an aerial hooping experimentation session where Naomi tested out her new skills while hanging from the trapeze. A few connections with local aerialists brought Naomi an invitation to do an aerial workshop with some local circus performers, which was wildly successful.

The biggest bonus, however, came through one of the workshop attendees, a Dutch magician named Igor. This prestidigitator knew several of the performers in Circus Roncalli (a big German circus performing in Amsterdam this month) and invited Naomi to the Roncalli lot to meet his performer friends in an attempt to score free tickets. Upon arrival, however, the performers were nowhere to be seen. Resourceful as ever, Naomi and Igor marched up to the ticket office, told the woman at the counter that they were circus performers and asked if they could have free tickets.

It actually worked.

We didn’t just get free tickets, though. We got GOOD free tickets. Front-row box-seat tickets. Velvet-cushioned, smell-the-performers, get-sawdust-up-your-nose tickets. Roncalli is a truly traditional European one-ring circus the likes of which we had never seen live; gilded caravans, equestrian acts, ringmaster in tails and black boots, the whole shebang. The show was totally magical and we left the lot in a gleeful daze, scheming madly about the day we will run off in Andrew’s camper van to join the circus. It will happen. Oh, yes. It will happen.

Circus Roncalli tent at night

While Naomi was hanging with hula hoopers and teaching circus, Andrew was staying at our hostel and pounding the pavement on a series of epic street performing missions. The search for the Perfect Amsterdam Busking Spot led at last to a series of performances at the Bloemenmarket, Amsterdam’s massive outdoor flower emporium. In the face of inclement weather and crabby shopkeepers Andrew and his sparkly hat persevered, banging out several hours of ridiculous tunes for the passers-by. Some of them even defied Dutch stereotypes by tipping!

Andrew took copious notes and observations during these solo days in the hopes of writing a coherent narrative about them, but a through-line never materialized. Instead, here is a selection of observations from Andrew’s notebook to give you a glimpse inside the daily experience of an American busker in Holland:

DAILY LOG: June 8^th, 2010

I accidentally bought some salted Dutch licorice at the supermarket and have been trying really hard to like it. Early attempts unsuccessful.

After two weeks of living in a hostel in Amsterdam I have discovered that the Dutch speak better English than many native speakers from the UK. Especially Scottish people.

Ordering fries with ketchup in Holland pegs you instantly as an American.

A common Dutch breakfast for adults and children alike is a piece of buttered bread smothered in chocolate sprinkles. The fact that the sprinkles are called “hagelslag” only makes this more awesome.

The word for “no” in Dutch is “nee,” pronounced “nay.” This makes sound like some conversations are being held in the Middle Ages. “Nay, sire! The queen’s hagelslag did not arrive today.Would Her Grace settle for fries with ketchup?”

The Dutch really like Michael Jackson.

The Dutch really do not like Britney Spears.

While in Amsterdam I have to constantly remind myself that half of every sidewalk is actually a lane for bicycles and scooters. I have nearly died several times because of this.

I just forgot about the bike lane again and just stepped into the middle of another one.

Some walk lights in Amsterdam give you a 60-second countdown before they turn red.

While walking around Amsterdam I saw a wrinkly old woman in a muu muu shuffling down the street with a full head of neon hair extensions.

The tour boats that patrol the canals look like giant crocodile heads at night.

An entertaining feature of the Dutch language is the palatal “chh” sound, which sounds like you’re quickly clearing your throat. When words are drawn out for dramatic emphasis in conversation this sound is sometimes extended for a hilariously long time. Note to self: Learn Dutch and do this.

Conversation overheard in hostel kitchen:

Young American #1: “I can’t wait to get out of the city away from all these damn people.”

Young American #2: “I can’t wait to drink a Busch Light and shoot things.”

Young American #1: “Blow some shit up?”

Young American #2: “Yep.”

Good all-purpose Dutch word: Lekker. It means good, tasty, delicious, awesome, satisfied and several other things.

Other Dutch Words I Like:

Genoodzaakt

Liggen

Stuk

Vervlakking

Twee

Werf

Hoogstwaarschijnlijk

That’s all for now!

2010-05-30T08:34:00.000-07:00

Hello from Holland! We're currently on a brief break from our Art Monastery work and are enjoying a well-deserved week off. It's unusually rainy and cold for this time of year, but the Amsterdammers are still whirling around the city in full force. Except for the phonetic throat-clearing that happens every few seconds in a Dutch conversation, it feels just like home sweet Seattle.After a month in Italy it is safe to say that entertaining Italians on a very small budget has been an unusual and challenging endeavor. Our first "Debutto" performance in Labro was so successful that we were asked to do it again a week later for a new group of dignitaries. What? An encore debut performance? Half of the first Debutto cast had left by this point, which meant that we had to put together a totally new show. Naomi sang, cavorted onstage with an Italian accordion virtuoso and performed a new silks act to David Bowie's "Space Oddity," complete with upside-down kazoo solo. Andrew played bass, sang and impersonated Elvis Presley in a comedy sketch wherein Pavarotti and the King reconcile their musical differences over a shared love of Italian cuisine. Though we had very little in the way of tech support or rehearsal, it came together at the last minute and actually seemed to impress some Italians. A notable audience quote: "When you play Portishead, you make me cry."

Who knew?

Incidentally, the Italian word "debutto" (debut) with TWO t's is nearly identical to the word "debuto" with ONE t, which has a totally different meaning, something closer to "one's entry into the adult entertainment industry." A subtle difference easily overlooked by non-native Italian speakers, this misspelling accidentally made its way onto the headline of a hundred flyers advertising one of our shows. Most of the flyers were distributed before the error was found, leaving us to only hope that nobody would notice. We weren't completely sure, however, so as a litmus test we handed one of our hotel waitresses a flyer and asked if she saw anything wrong with it. She read it down and seemed about to say that everything was fine until her eyes wandered back to the top of the page and a beet-red expression of amused horror crossed her face. She tried to cover it up and assure us it wasn't that bad, but we were already cracking up to notice.

Ah, cultural exchange.

After Debutto v2.0 we had a day to prepare for our three-week trip to Belgium and the Netherlands. This time was mostly used for packing luggage and washing clothes in the sink with hand soap, which seemed to have its own selective ideas about where dirt should be removed. Intermittent rain of astonishing force was a constant threat, providing a nice workout as we sprinted to get our drying clothes inside several times throughout the day. Busking costumes were finished, travel plans were laid, and soon we were stumbling out of bed at 4:45 AM to fly to Amsterdam. A word of advice to any and all people reading this: NEVER book a flight on Alitalia. Italy's largest airline has a very professional-looking website, but that's as far as it goes. The story is too long to relate, but the lesson learned is that behind Italy's world-famous food and fashion lurks an inefficient and fragmented infrastructure the likes of which one would expect in a country like Djibouti.

This was especially apparent when we arrived in Amsterdam. Wow, culture shock. You know you've been cloistered on an Italian mountain when clean trains, English signage and fresh vegetables seem alien.

We were inspired to action by our new surroundings and had a full day of stere

otypical sightseeing: walking along beautiful canals, constant consumption of frites and chocolate, and yes, Heineken.

We've been here several days and have already been to a comedy show, seen some sights, met some cool people and attended the Tong Tong Fair, the largest gathering of Indonesian people outside of Indonesia. The fair wasn't terribly interesting, but boy, can we recommend the deep-fried bananas.

We also somehow ended up playing at an art opening on the NDSM Werf, a huge complex of shipyards-turned-artist-lofts on the edge of the city.

This gig, which we got through a friend of a friend of a friend, involved playing ridiculous cover tunes next to a shipping container with a single glass wall that revealed a tableau of found objects being observed by a rabbit figurine. We played a half-hour set prior to the opening ceremony, which started out fairly normally but slowly became more and more bizarre as the proceedings unfolded. The ceremony began with the placement of a large brass lamp stand with a microphone where the bulb would have been, into which was delivered a short but theatrical speech by two men in gladiator helmets and matching black-and-red tuxedos. The speech concluded to enthusiastic applause as a massive piece of white paper was placed on the ground in front of the shipping container. A Vespa was driven onto the paper and began to rev the engine at top speed. The tiny engine roared as two men in goggles and safety gear walked up and began to throw a continuous stream of strike-on-box firecrackers at the paper. The paper began to explode as if strafed by a machine gun, flinging a light snowfall of confetti onto the assembled spectators. This firework-throwing/scooter-revving demonstration continued for five minutes without interruption, during which time one of the caterers was so surprised by a particular explosion that she spilled an full tray of champagne flutes on herself, creating an equally captivating scene several yards away. The explosions concluded just as the last of the champagne was mopped up, followed by a brief moment of silence as people contemplated the piles of shredded paper and broken glass on the ground. Pancakes and beer were then served.

Commedia rehearsal video

2010-05-27T03:10:00.000-07:00

Check out the video from the rehearsal for the Commedia piece performed for our second performance in Labro!

Labro Debutto Pictures

2010-05-16T01:30:00.001-07:00

A week ago, the Art Monastery Project had its Debutto ("debut") performance at Colle di Costa, where we are staying. It was a presentation of the vision of the project to the community of Labro, along with several local speakers, a video, and performances by Art Monastery artists. The wonderful Marco Ventimiglia took some fantastic pictures of the evening, and we thought you would enjoy them.

impromptu band performance during aperitivo in

the courtyard

Naomi taking a kazoo solo

Betsy and Christopher introduce the

project

Naomi's Silks act, view from underneath

Jazz set during dinner

Ciao for now!

First week in Italy

2010-05-11T02:28:00.000-07:00

Hello friends! We have survived our first week at the Art Monastery, and boy, has it been an adventure.

Where to start…

First, our home. We had seen a few pictures prior to our arrival, but nothing could have prepared us for this. We are out in the middle of beautiful nowhere in the mountain village of Labro, which was founded around 900 AD and strongly resembles Minas Tirith from the Lord of the Rings movies. We live across the valley from this medieval wonderland in the Colle di Costa, a 14th-century monastery that has been partially converted into a hotel. Most of the original structure and adjacent church have been preserved, and the contemporary additions give the place a very cool feel. The modern additions include conference rooms, a restaurant and a small theater that has housed most of our creative endeavors. It’s so quiet that the neighborhood birds form a thunderous morning chorus, and the view from the belltower is breathtaking.

Our days begin at 8:00 AM with a chilly jog across the valley to Labro, where Naomi leads the assembled Artmonks in a rigorous physical training regimen. Such things are far less common in Italy and the locals who have wandered by regard us with a mixture of confusion and amusement. We then retire to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, which in Italy means coffee, juice, cake and six kinds of cookies. Not just tea biscuits, mind you, but cookies specifically designed and advertised for breakfast consumption. Needless to say, this is a little challenging for a health-conscious vegetarian/gluten intolerant pair like ourselves, but we’ve found some delicious ways around this little hitch. Lunch is at 1:00, followed by individual training and projects until dinner at 8:00. After dinner we gather in the monastery’s church to do a compline service, a twenty-minute segment of Gregorian chant and meditation that winds us down at the close of the day. The rest of our schedule will be in flux for the rest of the summer, but here’s a brief overview of our recent activities

For the last week we have spent our mornings doing a Gregorian chant intensive and are now in full-on Artmonk mode. Our instructor is a jolly old Belgian man named Eugeen (pronounced OY-gen), who we simply refer to as “The Boss.” He has been studying Gregorian chant for over twenty years and is a very knowledgeable (albeit demanding) authority on this esoteric subject. Despite the fact that this music is sung in unison over a range of less than an octave, it turns out that Gregorian chant is very hard to do. It is even harder to learn, as it is written using an archaic notation system that implies no meter and delineates a variety of almost-imperceptibly different dynamics and articulations using one of about twenty kinds of squiggles. Virtually every rule has multiple contextual exceptions, melody lines change without notation or textual warning and most melodies must be constantly modified to fit lyrics which never repeat and are written independently from the actual music. Did we mention that this is all done in Latin?

We’ve also done several performances for the folks of Labro, including a grand debut/presentation of the Art Monastery Project to the community. Andrew melted faces with beatboxing, jazz and a straitjacket escape, while Naomi blew Italian minds with a smoking aerial silks act and several sultry vocal numbers.

We’ve done several Gregorian chant performances this weekend. One was performed with an actual Bishop (!) in the beautiful town of Orvieto. If you are not aware (We weren't), Orvieto is the home of a beautiful cathedral, the Duomo, that was built to house the bloody altar cloth miracle thingie of Corpus Christie (something something Christian important something...) and has a stunningly ornate exterior. We didn't go inside cause it cost three Euros. But we strolled around the lovely, if very touristy town, tried four different flavors of gelato, and threw a paper airplane off a cliff.

This next week brings us an experimental music project in which we will start to pull apart our chant work and reassemble it to produce a number of new pieces. With luck we’ll have some recordings to play for you shortly, so stay posted!

Ciao!

~Naomi & Andrew