that girl allison

I'm Allison. I see a ton of theatre. I'm a fan of Green Day, Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, Weezer, Oasis, Adam Rapp, Emily Giffin, and Shakespeare. I run sometimes, and do yoga always.

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thatgirlallison08 at gmail dot com

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I would like to hashtag this non-riot as #whitepeoplerioting. My brother goes to Keene and wasn’t involved in this at all (as who gives a fuck about protesting a pumpkin festival?), but if I’d been there, I would totally have been taking photos from the sidelines. But that’s me

But can we all just admit that this wasn’t really a riot? This is a party that got out of hand. In a tiny town, as the article states, where partying is a large activity on campus. When you add 10,000 other people and college students into the mix? I’m not sure what they expected to happen. 

Also: There were maybe 40 cops there, with paint balls as ammunition, not bullets. If Keene wasn’t blindingly white, somebody would’ve been shot (probably many somebodies) and things would’ve been a lot worse. They would’ve had actual bullets in their guns for starters. 

But they weren’t. I watched many videos of the “action” online today and it was just drunk bros in the street, knocking over the occasional street sign, and yelling. Oh, and some really douchey douches flipped over a car or two (and that sucks, yes, but sports fans have done the same thing in the past). And they lit some trash on fire. They didn’t light a house or a person on fire. 

I believe that this is just an example of what happens when you don’t teach your 18-year-old off-to-college offspring how to drink socially and not to excess. This is what happens when you demonize alcohol and then send your kid to a school that’s pretty into partying (that’s probably all schools, though) where there’s not a whole lot to do.

You end up with a White People “Riot” over pumpkins. 

Sunday Funday

Today was good. After working on my apartment all day yesterday with my parents, I spent a bunch of hours today packing, punctuated by a trip with Ben down to the New York Indie Film Festival to see “Tom’s Restaurant - a Document About Everything.”

I’ve never watched Seinfeld, but I wanted to see this because I’m moving into an apartment a few blocks away and this was more about the neighborhood than Seinfeld. I enjoyed it, but it was long, and the regulars they interviewed went off on tangents a lot.

Afterwards we went to eat at the actual Tom’s Restaurant on 112th and Broadway (my appetizers were eh, but his burger was really good, and the milkshake was really good too). It was quiet and just a bunch of neighborhood people - with the occasional tourist to take a photo of the outside or the photos inside.

Afterward I showed him my apartment and then I came home to marathon a bunch of Law and Order SVU episodes while packing. Sunday funday, indeed. 

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I am packing up my apartment to move and the last things on my shelves are my Playbills. I have so much shit. The movers are now allowed near these though. These I will be moving these in my parent’s car, along with my guitars and my camera. 

So many Playbills. 


(via endotique)

I found out I was getting laid off about six weeks ago. It wasn’t something that was totally unexpected, but my bosses admitted that they’d made a mistake and needed to hire somebody with more experience who they didn’t need to teach advanced digital marketing to. They were eliminating my position entirely. Okay, fine. I got it and I was kind of relieved. I’d been stressed out and working my ass off to try to get to the level they needed.

Then I freaked out. The first thought was: I needed to find another job, and quickly. The second thought to pop into my head: do I really want to stay working in theatre? I wasn’t positive, but part of me was saying no. I was tired of working for what felt like zero dollars and feeling like the whole world was crashing down around my colleagues and I whenever the smallest mistake was made. To be blunt: there was never an instance where what we were doing was saving lives. Ever. Period. Yet I always found myself being stressed as fuck about my work load. (As per usual in theatre, we had about 14 times as much work as we could handle.) 

We were selling tickets to Broadway shows. That’s IT. I thought about why I worked in theatre and it was because I liked the fun work environment and the free tickets. But the more I thought about it I admitted that the work environment wasn’t that fun and I could afford to buy TDF tickets to shows (and I still have a valid student ID too!) if I had a job that paid me what I was worth. And while it’s fun to get comps to shows, it’s more fun to love your job and be good at it.

But just for the hell of it, I still applied for a few theatre jobs here and there. Through a reference I got an interview right away at a very small general management company who needed a new bookkeeper. The woman I interviewed with was disheveled and said she thought her current bookkeeper was an idiot because she asked questions. I knew right there that this wasn’t the boss for me. She also looked at my address on my resume and asked, “Whoa. Are you rich?” Excuse me?. She said she paid her current bookkeeper $30k but could maybe offer me $35k but no benefits. HAHA. Nope. Sorry. Like I said, I was done undervaluing myself and this woman was batshit insane.

The next gem of a person that I ran into at an interview was a woman that couldn’t even be bothered to meet me in person. She was a seasoned talent agent who was striking out on her own and she needed an assistant. We were on a phone call and towards the end when I asked about benefits, she said, “Oh no, I don’t. There are a lot of people out there who would really want this job and they’re on Obamacare. I have to run my business as I feel comfortable.” This is also known as an internship, or slave labor. 

This is common practice on Broadway. There are so many people wanting to work for these companies that they don’t need to offer benefits or a livable salary. During my hunt, I was talking to a good friend who’s a pretty successful company manager, and occasional general manager, and he said, “You know I used to think that people who left working in theatre couldn’t hack it but then I just realized they’d just smartened up to it.” And another friend who occasionally raises money for shows told me, “Broadway will always be there. You can always go back.”

In the end I found a company that really excites me and a role within that company that utilizes my skill set. It’s not theatre, but it’s all about promoting culture in the city. The workspace and people are awesome. And I’m making a way better salary than I would’ve been elsewhere. The photo above is the view right behind where I sit. Not too shabby.

So I’d love to hear about your experiences working in theatre. Let me know!?

I got really lucky and I was able to see Andrew Rannells in Hedwig and the Angry Inch at his second to last performance yesterday. I hadn’t see Hedwig since it was in previews in April and I was stoked to go back. I was administering a survey for The Broadway League and we talked to the House Manager for a bit beforehand and she is by far the coolest House Manager on Broadway. She has a long history with Hedwig, to the point where she begged to manage the Belasco when it was returning, and loves it just as much as anyone. We had to stand as the show was sold out but I was fine with that since I never really stop moving during the show and it’s probably really annoying to sit next to. (Sorry, not sorry.)

Andrew added a bunch of little things that Neil Patrick Harris hadn’t, but he was also really, really buff. I thought that NPH looked better as Hedwig, but Andrew probably sang and acted it better. He got down to the heart of the character, deeper than NPH. Lena Hall rocked it, duh. As did The Angry Inch band members. 

Hedwig is just an incredible show, an incredible journey to go on, with a kick-ass, skull-rattling score. I will never tire of it. Best of luck to Michael C. Hall, who has big shoes to fill. 

I was invited by a colleague to see Malcolm Gladwell speak at the SVA Theatre yesterday as part of the New Yorker Festival. I got there a little late but it was still fascinating. I’ve read all of Gladwell’s books in the last year so this was a big deal for me. This is the most interesting man in any room, as far as I’m concerned, and I could read a 400 page book about the telephone book if he decided to write one.

His lecture yesterday was about our “default to truth,” and how we can spot liars. He used the Bernie Madoff case and Harry Markopolos. He determined at the end, that he would rather have a world full of Bernie Madoff’s than a world full of whistle blowers like Harry Markopolos.

He took questions from the audience, some good, some not so good. It was ninety minutes, but it was thrilling. I could listen to him talk for hours. If you ever have the opportunity, go see him speak.  

The Country House, by Donald Margulies, opened a couple of weeks ago to stellar reviews at the Samuel Friedman Theatre. It was about a bunch of actors (a family, multiple generations) who gather at their summer home to honor the death of the mother of the family who passed the year before. 

There were tons of funny and meaningful one-liners in the first act, but the first act ended with a cliche moment that was only meant to give the playwright a reason to write a second act.  While I enjoyed the first act a lot, it was obvious Margulies had no idea where to go in the second act. It had a few moments, but it was pretty pointless.

The performances were great though: Blythe Danner was wonderful as the famous dame of the family, Daniel Sunjata was wonderful and a bit sleazy as Michael Astor (the famous TV actor who needed a place to stay), and Sarah Steele was probably my favorite, as the Danner’s granddaughter, and the only one in the family who wasn’t in show business, Susie. I’ve seen her in many shows and she’s always fabulous and this performance was no different. Kate Jennings Grant was also endearing as the new wife to Walter (the funny David Rasche), who was obviously a little uncomfortable being there.

Although it had it’s moments, MTC has produced more focused work in the past and I can’t wait to see what they have in store next. 

I saw Booty Candy at Playwrights Horizons last Sunday night and it had it’s hilarious moments, but I can’t say I really got it. It was a series of ridiculous skits and the first and second act skits were related somehow. 

While it probably had something to say, I’ve seen better things at Playwrights Horizons. 

This is my future cat. Except not white. 

(via marleypavel)